A Taste for Blood Diana Lee

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A Taste for Blood

Diana Lee

1

Prey

Carissa let her mount have its lead as it cantered along the well-known path through the deep forest. The fall of
1876 was a stormy season, and the weather was wildly unpredictable from hour to hour. That night, the
thunderheads massed along the horizon were shepherded by strong winds. Above, the clouds sailed across the
moon, throwing deep shadows across the path, but horse and rider had come this way for five years now, and
every clip and rise was familiar to them.

The horse no longer reared when the tall, dark woman stepped from the shadows to greet Carissa. Ryan
wrapped Carissa in her arms, engulfing her in the long black cape she wore. A groom led the horse away as the
two women embraced and then slipped into the house.

"It will be a wild night. Perhaps you should not have come. The ride home will be very difficult," Ryan said as
she poured two goblets of deep red wine. This had become a ritual: the moments they spent together in front of
the fire sipping the wine while Carissa told Ryan of all her doings.

"Then I will stay the night," Carissa shrugged. "The storm should clear by morning. It will be safe enough to
return then."

"Your parents won't miss you?"

Carissa looked away. "I'm not really sure if I care anymore." Then, in a much softer voice, "I'm not sure I ever
want to go back."

Ryan handed Carissa her glass, her fingers caressing her lover's hand. "Has something happened?"

"They… they are planning to announce my engagement at the first hunt ball next weekend."

"I see," Ryan said through stiff lips. "I was not aware that you were engaged. Who is the lucky man?"

"John McDermott."

"Your father's partner's son. How convenient. When did you accept his suit?" Carissa could hear the dangerous
quiet in Ryan's voice. Ryan never lost her temper, never raged, but her voice could cut to the flesh.

"I never did. The first I knew about the engagement was this morning when my mother took me to be fitted for
a new gown for the ball. She and the seamstress decided on the design for my wedding gown. Apparently that
is another thing for which they do not require my consent."

Ryan let out a deep breath. "This had to come eventually. They certainly do not approve of me in any way, and

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you are sole heir to your family's fortune. You have resisted every suitor they have put forth for the past five
years, so now they have taken matters from your hands."

"I won't be sold!" Carissa exclaimed. She got up and strode to the fire, giving the andirons a savage kick that
sent sparks flying up the chimney. "I won't be forced into marriage with John… with any man!"

Ryan smiled over her glass as she watched Carissa rage. She loved the spirit of this woman: the raw emotions
that lived in the heart of such a sweet-looking exterior, as well as the deep sexual passion that Ryan herself had
awakened.

"Ryan, I don't want to go back." Carissa turned to look at the dark-clad woman. "I want to stay with you. I… I
want you to make me what you are."

Ryan sighed. "You don't know what you are asking, Carissa."

"I do know. I've known you, loved you, for five years now. I want to be with you."

"You are welcome here, my dear. If you wish to stay with me you may, but I will not make you."

"And when I grow old? Will you still want me then? Will you want me as I turn into a wrinkled old crone and
you stay young forever?"

"So, it is your vanity you would serve? You wish to have the bloom of youth forever?" There was scorn in
Ryan's voice now. "I thought better of you than that. I thought you were more than the pretty clothes you wear.
Go to your fiance, to your ordered life of balls and soirees. If I want unchanging beauty, I will commission a
painting or a sculpture." The words were deliberately cruel, driving Carissa back.

"I love you. I want to spend… If I were like you, we could spend lifetimes together. We could love each other
through the centuries."

"Vampires do not love!" Ryan shouted, raising her voice for the first time since Carissa had known her.

Carissa turned away, looking blindly into the embers of the fire. Her tears seemed to burn as hot as the coals.
"Then I am just a convenient meal to you? One you don't have to bother hunting? A tumble among the sheets?
Am I… am I at least a good lay?"

Ryan watched her lover cry, making no move to touch her. "After all the centuries the heart becomes a thing of
ice. Watching friends and family grow old and die. Only being able to see them from a distance, spying on
them because you have become something cursed, something they would never let in their homes. Drowning
the pain in blood because the anger, the rage, threatens to drive you mad, does drive you mad, until you learn
to control the hunger. Do you know what my first meal was? My six-year-old niece. I woke from that first
sleep, and she was there next to me, and I took her in my hunger and drained her dead. Over the years, you
learn to put armor over those wounds, until you have no heart left, until you are cold and empty, and all that
exists is the hunt."

"And I was your prey." It was not a question.

Ryan smiled. "Remember the first night we met? You almost rode me down on that gray whirlwind of yours.

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You were so innocent then."

"I was so spoiled then, so full of myself."

Ryan laughed. "That too. So headstrong and full of the courage of youth. You took my breath away; you were
so lovely. Like a spirit of the forest mounted on a wisp of fog. And arrogant, so arrogant in assuming your right
to go anywhere you wished. Invulnerable to danger."

"Why didn't you take me that night?"

"You were like someone from out of a dream. I didn't want to spoil it."

"Did I remind you of someone you knew before?"

"Yes… but you are, and have always been, only yourself, my dear."

This mist swirled among the trees like dancers weaving a ballet on the breeze. The night sounds were muffled,
but above, the moon shone almost full. Another night or two and the forest would be shaken by howls, but for
now the insects made a counterpoint to the soft thud of hoofbeats on the path. Ryan waited, knowing that the
rider would come this way. There was a touch of hunger, but not enough to make her wish to hunt. Still, if a
meal trotted into her arms, how could she refuse? She stepped back into the shadows and waited.

The horse was the color of mist itself. It looked as if a tendril had risen in a curve to form the proud neck and
well-proportioned head. The rider sat on the gray beast as if they were one: a lovely young centaur cresting the
waves of night. Horses were the gift of Poseidon, and it was fitting that this stallion rode the waves of fog like a
ship cresting the tide.

Time seemed to halt as Ryan stood in admiration, watching the two animals move as one. Then a stray
moonbeam caught the rider's face, and Ryan knew that the appointed hour had come. She stepped from the
shadows, and the horse reared, whinnying in fear. It would have bolted, but the young woman's hands were
sure on the reins. She forced the stallion down in a circle. It pranced as if the ground burned its hooves, snorting
almost like a dragon, but it stood to her command.

"That was foolish," the girl said. "Nightshade could have run you down."

Ryan suppressed a smile and bowed low. "Forgive me, but you took me by surprise. I don't often have
company such as yours on my evening strolls."

In the moonlight Ryan's skin was almost pure white. Her dark hair had been cropped close, but despite all her
attempts at taming it, it waved back from her forehead in soft, black curls. She wore black: leather trousers that
outlined her muscular legs and a tunic that seemed to absorb light in its blackness. It was belted around her
waist, and the only ornament she wore was the platinum wolfs head that formed the buckle of her belt. The
young woman sat in the saddle, examining her almost impudently. The face she saw was long, with features
that were rather strong for a woman: a square chin and a long, aquiline nose with high cheekbones that lent the
face its only curves. The eyes were deeply hooded, but a spark there seemed to glow with its own light. As if
reassured with what she saw, the young woman slid off her mount in a single motion.

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"How do you do?" she said holding out her hand. "My name is Carissa de Moire."

Ryan caught Carissa's eyes, allowing her to see past the illusion of masculinity that she maintained with most
people. She bowed over the girl's hand, kissing the fingers softly. She heard Carissa gasp and smiled, knowing
that the girl did not expect such behavior from another woman.

"I am Ryan, Lord Wolf."

"Lord?" Carissa asked, confused.

"Yes. In my country a woman can inherit land and title, if she is the last of her line."

"Oh. Are you a visitor then? I haven't met you before, and I know almost everyone in the neighborhood."

"I have a house here in the forest, but I am generally not invited to the local parties and balls."

"Why not, my lord? Usually people are dying to have someone with a title attend their parties," asked Carissa.
They had started strolling together, and Carissa kept having to pull hard on Nightshade's reins. The horse
didn't want to get too close to Lord Wolf and kept pulling away. Finally, Carissa stopped and tied the reins to a
branch. Lord Wolf swept off the short cloak she was wearing and laid it over a fallen tree, seating Carissa
gallantly.

"I don't suppose most people around here approve of me, Miss de Moire."

"Oh, please call me Carissa, my lord. Why don't they approve of you?"

"Perhaps people think a lady laird to be dangerous. It might give the women notions beyond their ladylike
abilities. Or perhaps they think I will subvert the ladies and teach them to enjoy forbidden fruits."

"You mean you would seduce them?" Carissa asked rather boldly. She was blushing hotly but hoped that Lord
Wolf could not see her blood rising in the moonlight. She could not have known that Ryan could not only see
but also feel the heat of her blood.

"Only the pretty ones," Ryan answered.

"Are you going to seduce me?"

Ryan laughed full-throated. "I only seduce women, not girls."

"I am a woman. I'm eighteen years old, or at least I shall be day after tomorrow. Will you come to my birthday
party?"

"I don't think your parents would approve, Carissa."

"It is my party. I should be able to invite anyone I choose. Please say you will come. Please?"

"How can I disappoint one so lovely? Yes, I will come to your party."

Carissa blushed even more deeply. "Thank you, my lord. I look forward to your company. If you will excuse

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me now, I had better get home before my parents begin to worry."

Lord Wolf stood and offered the girl her hand. "I am surprised that they allow you to ride in the forest at all,
much less at night."

"Well, they don't exactly know I'm here, but I do get so tired of riding in the meadow near my home."

"There are dangers in the forest. Wolves prowl here at times, as well as other predators. I don't think it is safe for
you to be riding alone here. Perhaps you had better listen to your parents."

"Wolves," Carissa said scornfully. "Nightshade can outrun any wolf that was ever born. And I can take care of
myself, but thank you for your concern, my lord. Until Wednesday night then?"

Lord Wolf bowed over Carissa's hand once more, this time dropping a kiss in her palm. She helped Carissa
mount and then watched her trot off into the mist.

"You know, I followed you home that night to make sure you were safe."

"I didn't know. But then I didn't know what dangers there were back then."

"Especially me."

Carissa looked away once more. "Especially you. You knew, didn't you? You knew once you had awakened
me, I would come to you again and again."

"Yes, I knew. That night, at your party, I took you very deliberately. You were a woman then, and I reached
inside you and made you aware of your passion, your need."

"What? Morals from a vampire? You waited till I was of age?" There was no scorn in Carissa's voice, only pain.

"Morals had nothing to do with it my dear, as you well know. I could have taken you that night in the forest,
but it suited my fancy to wait and take you in your parents' home. The home you had opened to me with your
invitation. But, yes, you had to be a woman before I could seduce you."

"Why?"

"Your blood called to me."

"So, if it had not been my time, you would have never found me that night in the forest. We would have never
met? Is that it?"

"We would have met, then or another night. For a vampire the most enticing smell is blood. It rouses the
hunter's instinct and unleashes the hunger. But a woman's blood, that scent rouses something else, my dear.
That rouses our passion. You seduced me just as much as I did you, even if you did not know it."

The garden was lit with hundreds of lanterns: fairy lights burning softly among the branches of the trees. The

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weather still held warm, and the foliage was still full, so there were ample shadows for Lord Wolf to use. No
matter that she had been invited, she didn't put it past Carissa's parents to have her seen off their property. Not
that they could keep her from coming back now that the invitation had been issued, but she did not want to
wait. She was hungry tonight. She had put off hunting, knowing what awaited her. From her vantage in the
shadows she watched the figures dancing, but her eyes kept straying to the young woman dressed in white.

Carissa wore a gown of satin and lace. The skirt bowed out over her petticoats, but the bodice and sleeves were
tight, accentuating her beautifully formed breasts. Her father had almost had apoplexy when he saw her in the
gown. It was almost indecent, he raged, but in truth, it was more conservatively cut then many of the gowns
that Carissa's mother's friends wore. What made it so daring was the woman wearing it: the contrast between
the purity of the fabric and the budding womanhood garbed within it. Carissa was flushed with the first
awareness of her sexuality. It showed in the blush of her cheeks and the sparkle of her eyes. Her long, dark hair
framed her oval face and fell down over her plump shoulders like a fall of gossamer. Her face was still sweet
with the soft curves of youth, but the fine bones beneath were beginning to give her features the form of
beauty. Her body was fuller than was the fashion, but she moved with grace and sureness, and every man,
young or old, had eyes for her that night.

The rest of the women swirled in colors from deep burgundy to rich aquamarine. Their necks glittered with
gems, and as they danced, they looked like dew-speckled flowers twirling to the music that floated on the night
air. Yet, in spite of all the rich colors, or perhaps because of them, the eye was drawn to the one woman who
was dressed in the simplest purity. A long line of young, and not so young, men waited to dance with her, and
she had been kept moving all evening.

Carissa laughingly avoided her newest partner and slipped out onto the terrace. Her feet were beginning to
ache, and the high of the evening was fading to fatigue. She had looked forward to this party, to this birthday,
for months, but now that it was here, her happiness was tinged with disappointment that Lord Wolf had not
come. She slipped into the shadows and collapsed on a sheltered bench to rest her feet and catch her breath.

"Did you not save even one dance for me this evening?"

Carissa jumped, as Ryan seemed to solidify from the shadows. "You did come," she smiled. "Of course I saved a
dance for you."

Lord Wolf bowed and offered Carissa her hand. She swept the young woman into her arms, and they began a
waltz. It seemed to Carissa that her feet never touched the ground as they swirled deeper and deeper into the
garden. The bushes seemed to lift their branches to let them pass, and the music followed them like a trained
hound. When at last the waltz ended, Carissa pulled away to lean breathlessly against the smooth bole of a
birch. Her heart was pounding, and she could feel the blood singing in her ears.

"I'm glad you came," Carissa said.

"Thank you for inviting me. I had forgotten how much I enjoy dancing."

"Well, perhaps until you have had your feet stepped on for the hundredth time in one evening."

Ryan laughed. "I promise not to step on your toes, but perhaps you would rather sit for a while. I think you
came out here to rest."

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"Somehow, my lord, I find myself completely rested."

Ryan smiled and pulled Carissa into her arms. They danced again, this time more slowly. Carissa felt sensitized.
Each time the fabric brushed across her breasts she moaned. She wasn't aware of being drawn closer into
Ryan's embrace, but by the end of the dance, she was clinging to her. Again, she stepped back when the music
ended, but this time she leaned against a tree because she was not sure that her knees would support her. She
had flirted before with the young men whom her parents found acceptable to court her, but nothing in her
experience prepared her for the arousal that flowed like new wine through her veins. She had no breath left for
words. She only looked at Ryan expectantly.

"I brought you a gift, Carissa, to commemorate this night."

"Oh, you didn't have to, but thank you so much."

Ryan took a slender jewel box from inside her jacket and opened it. Inside was a plain platinum chain with a
small pendant. Carissa lifted the necklace out of the box and held it, looking at the pendant.

"It's beautiful, my lord." The pendant was the circle of the full moon with a wolf running across it. A single
small emerald glinted from the wolfs eye. "Please help me put it on."

Ryan took the necklace from Carissa and put the chain around her neck, closing the clasp. She lifted her
abundant hair and the pendant settled over the cleft of Carissa's breasts. Ryan ran her fingers through Carissa's
hair and then kissed her deeply. The victim was chained and marked with Ryan's sign.

Ryan lifted Carissa and carried her deeper into the shadows. The young woman's eyes were dark with need
now. Ryan could have mesmerized her, she could have put her deep into a trance, but there was no need. The
victim came willingly, as she always had and always would. The soft moss cradled Carissa as Ryan laid her in
the spot she had prepared. Again they kissed, and Carissa arched up against Ryan. The vampire grasped
Carissa's wrists, pinning them to the ground. Her lips moved over Carissa's face, her tongue flicking along the
curve of her cheek, her brow, her jawline.

Carissa bared her throat in invitation, not knowing how much she was offering. The soft lips caressing her
vulnerable throat made her shiver with pleasure. Her body burned, and yet she wanted the flame to rage
higher. She did not know what to do, what to expect next, so she surrendered to her knowledgeable
companion. There was only the briefest moment of panic when the sharp teeth closed on the tender flesh of her
neck. A quick flash of pain, and then she was beyond any reasonable thought as the pain and pleasure melded
and she gave herself over to the purest of passions.

The first scent of blood was almost overwhelming to Ryan, the taste like liquid sensuality. As always, the
hunger took her completely for long moments while she felt the heat of new blood filling her, running through
her icy body and filling her with fire. It was so easy to give into this lust, so seductive, but Ryan had learned
self-control centuries ago. There was no need to kill so sweet a victim. She took enough to assuage her first
hunger, then, with the brief struggle that had come to feel like its own kind of pleasure, she pulled back.

Carissa laid back, her eyes glazed over. She was conscious but not really aware. She had gone to her own place
of pleasure, and Ryan intended to waken the rest of her desires that night. She leaned forward once more and
licked the last drop of blood from Carissa's neck. For a moment she simply savored the taste. Then she lifted the
young woman's skirts and tore her undergarments from her body. It took no effort. Strength was humming

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along Ryan's nerves. She stroked Carissa's thighs, and obediently, the young woman spread her legs.

Ryan leaned forward and kissed Carissa's lower lips. She ran her tongue between them, tasting the salty
sweetness of Carissa's arousal. She heard the maiden moan and smiled to herself. Ryan began stroking Carissa's
labia, her fingers never quite touching the clit. She waited until Carissa began to writhe with pleasure, and then
she reached up and cupped both breasts, squeezing hard enough to make Carissa squeal. When she had
Carissa's full attention, Ryan leaned back on her heels. Very deliberately, she unlaced her trousers, freeing the
shaft that had made her pants bulge almost obscenely.

Carissa was too inexperienced to know what she was seeing. The complete trust in her eyes was like a narcotic
to Ryan. The vampire growled softly and then leaned forward to bite Carissa's neck again. This time she did not
draw blood but left a purple bruise on the fair flesh. It was a test of submission, and Carissa gave without
hesitation. Ryan found Carissa's maidenhead and thrust hard against the barrier. Carissa's scream was muffled
against Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan filled Carissa over and over. Carissa's moans were soft music on the night air, her body covered in a sheen
of sweat. She rose to meet Ryan each time the vampire plunged into her. This was pleasure like none she had
ever imagined. There was only now, this moment, as they rocked together, rode the waves of their passion, and
crested together.

Carissa had collapsed back against the ground. Her heart was racing, and she was gasping, trying to control
her breathing. She looked up at Ryan expecting… She didn't know what to expect: endearments or words of
love. She expected to be gathered against Ryan's chest, but Ryan was not yet done. Fresh blood had been
spilled, and it mingled with the most enticing wine of all.

Ryan moved lower, pressing Carissa's thighs apart again. Carissa moaned a protest, but Ryan did not even hear
it. She bent to taste the intoxicating mixture, her tongue curling around Carissa's clit and stroking along the soft
folds of flesh. The virgin's blood mixed with her cum, the finest vintage of all. Ryan savored each drop, not
noticing or even caring that Carissa's pleasure grew again and peaked. It was only when a fresh gush of cum
leaked from her cunt that Ryan noticed the effect she was having. She chuckled deep in her throat and drank
the latest offering of her victim. When she finally sat back and wiped her mouth, Carissa was unconscious.
Ryan had taken all the young woman could give… this time.

Ryan took the ruined shreds of Carissa's undergarments and used them to wipe the ivory cock she wore
strapped to her body before tucking it back into her trousers. There would be other times, she knew. It was so
much better this way; so much better to find one very special victim and train her to Ryan's tastes.

"I always meant to ask you how I came to be in my own bed that night."

"I carried you there and tucked you into your bed. It wouldn't have done for your parents to have found you
ravished in the garden."

"I guess not. Questions would have been asked, and they might have taken me away."

"Yes. I'll call William now to get the carriage out to take you home. You can't ride in this storm."

"I'm not going home. You said I could stay." Carissa tried to look defiant, but there was pleading in her eyes.

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"You still want to stay? Why?"

"How, how can I go back? There is no going back to being that innocent girl. How could I accept the life my
parents have planned for me when you have shown me so much more?"

"Other women have gone on. They have tasted this and then gone on to be wives and mothers, to live solid lives
after their little adventure."

"There is no man, no mortal who could give me what you do. If you cannot give me love, you do give me
honest passion."

"And you will settle for that?"

"Better that than neither. I will always love you. I cannot help that. And if you tire of me someday…" Carissa
could not go on. She had expected Ryan to be glad when she had asked to be made into a vampire. She did not
know where to go from here, but she knew she could not go back to live a tame and timid life.

Ryan came and lifted Carissa's chin. The vampire looked deep into her eyes. There was power in Ryan's eyes,
and command, and Carissa knew that Ryan could turn the past five years into a scarcely remembered dream.
Ryan could take her memories as easily as she drank her blood, and there was no way that Carissa could stop
her.

"There is no going back from this, my dear."

"There never was, Ryan. I was yours from the moment I first met you, and we both know it."

Ryan smiled. She lifted Carissa in her arms and started for the staircase. "Do you know what I adore about you
the most, my love? I adore that I own you, yet I have never tamed you. You would be wasted on John
McDermott."

2

The Making

Carissa woke suddenly from a dark dream of a violent storm in which thunderbolts shook the ground and the
raw, gaping earth clutched at her with cold, moist fingers. She shivered and drew deep gulps of air. Her eyes
became adjusted to the darkness, and for a moment she thought she was interred in her sepulcher. Then she
moved her head and saw Ryan sitting across from her on a leather upholstered bench. The ground was still
shaking, but it took Carissa only a few moments to realize she was traveling in Ryan's carriage. The vehicle had
thick, dark glass in the windows and even these were heavily curtained so that Ryan could travel during the
day. Normally a pair of oil lamps would be lit when Carissa used the carriage, but all was in darkness now.

"Ah, good, you are awake." Ryan reached and took Carissa's hand and kissed it.

"Where… You… You made me! I thought… What made you change your mind?"

Ryan helped Carissa sit. She felt dizzy and weak, and she held on to Ryan, resting her head against Ryan's

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shoulder.

"You made me realize what a waste it would be if I let you go. You were right: I could not hold you as a mortal.
In time, you would have wanted those things a mortal woman wants: a home, children, a purpose in life. I hope
you never regret the choice you made, Carissa, for there truly is no going back."

"I know, beloved, but as long as I am with you, I will not miss any of that." Carissa nuzzled against Ryan's neck
and sighed happily, but Ryan snorted a bit cynically. She would see how long this undying love would last;
meanwhile, she had a very pleasant companion. There was no guilt left in Ryan after so long, over seven
hundred years, but she would regret it if Carissa became as Ryan had seen so many other vampires become:
creatures who lived for the petty squabbles of power spiced liberally with the hunt.

"Where are we going?" Carissa asked.

"To Edinburgh. I have a house outside of the city, and it has been many years since I've been there. I think you
will like it."

"I will miss your old house. It was filled with such memories."

"We could not stay. Your parents would look there first. They knew enough to know you would come to me.
They will be hunting for you, and a confrontation would have served no purpose. When we reach the port, you
will write them, and I will have the letter delivered in a roundabout way. It may not completely put their minds
at ease, but it is better than leaving them wondering if you came to harm."

"Thank you. You are right. As angry as I was with them, I do not want them to worry. Although, in some
ways, I think they would prefer to let their friends think me dead than to face the scandal of me running away
like this."

Ryan shrugged. She had made her plans taking into consideration Carissa's sensibilities, but she herself didn't
really care how Carissa's parents reacted. She had developed a rather strong dislike for Carissa's father, who
was the worst of hypocrites. He would put the best face possible on the matter, and aside from his anger at
Carissa defying him successfully, he would not much care what happened to his daughter. It was John
McDermott who would hunt for his errant bride. Ryan did not tell Carissa of the plans she had made to lead
McDermott to think they had fled to France. Let him scour the continent looking for his bride. In time his ardor
would cool, and he would find another woman, one more tame. He was the kind of man who could not live
with a woman who had more strength of character than he. He would have broken Carissa's spirit. Ryan may
have used Carissa's body hard, driving her into the depths of pain and pleasure, but she had taken care never to
bruise her spirit. It had nothing to do with kindness; vampires could not create, yet Ryan considered Carissa a
work of art. Her physical beauty she had been born with. Her strength of character she had developed over the
years, but Ryan had taken the strong-willed girl and taught her to free her passion. She was strong now, even
though she belonged body and mind to Ryan, for Ryan had never once coerced her. She had taken only what
was freely offered. It was all the more sweet that way.

"Tell me what you remember of your making," Ryan commanded.

"Last night was a wild night, and you were wild as well, my lord."

Ryan laughed. "I was wild? What of you, my dove? I have eight long scratches down my back, and you

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shredded my favorite silk shirt."

If Carissa could have blushed, she would have been scarlet. She laughed at Ryan's obvious pleasure. "Well, we
were both wild. I don't think I have ever wanted you so much. You carried me up the stairs to your
bedchamber…"

The room was lit with a dozen candles, and the soft light nickered on the rich red brocades. The furniture was
heavy, as was the fashion, but the chamber was so large, there was still a feeling of openness about the room.
The bed dominated the center of the room. It had no hangings; Ryan had never been concerned with keeping
drafts out, but it did have heavy posts at the head and feet. The candles threw most of their light on the bed,
and the rest of the room was lost in shadows. The curtains were drawn, as always, but the lightning flashed so
vividly that even the thick draperies could not shut out the light completely. Thunder broke over them, and the
rain drummed on the roof like hoofbeats.

Ryan threw Carissa on the bed and tore the clothing from her. The vampire's eyes were as wild as the storm
raging outside. Her hands were hard on her lover, shredding the clothing and mauling her breasts. Yet Carissa
was equally wild with passion. She tried to draw her lover down to her but succeeded only in tearing Ryan's
shirt.

Ryan grabbed Carissa's wrists and held them easily in one hand. She tangled her other hand in Carissa's mane
and pulled her lover's head back until her neck was exposed. She ran her tongue up and down the exposed
throat, her sharp teeth just grazing the flesh. Carissa struggled and fought like a wild woman, but she was not
trying to push Ryan away. She wound her bare legs around Ryan's waist and tried to push her throbbing cunt
against a leather-clad thigh. Ryan laughed and moved to pin Carissa's legs with her own. In spite of her
superior strength, it took long moments of pleasurable struggle to pin her victim. Now Carissa tried to twist
under her, cursing with words she had never learned in her parents' house.

Ryan laughed again. "Hungry for it, aren't you, my little slut? But you know the rules. You have to wait for it."

Ryan ground her knee against Carissa's crotch, and the woman writhed against it, screaming with frustration
when Ryan pulled it away. The vampire licked her lips, studying her struggling prey. Almost delicately, she
bent and took one nipple in her mouth. She sucked it in deeply, and Carissa moaned, arching up against her
lover's mouth. Ryan bit slowly, deliberately prolonging the pain, the anticipation, and when the sweet blood
flowed into her mouth, her groan was a deeper harmony to Carissa's scream. The blood flowed slower here, less
deep than in the throat, but it was an exquisite pleasure to feed so. Carissa remained aware throughout the slow
minutes while Ryan sucked the sweet blood from her. It drove her wild with need, and she was sobbing by the
time Ryan finished.

"Please!" Carissa demanded more then begged. She freed one leg and tried to wrap it around Ryan again. Her
cunt ached, throbbing with a deeper pain then her mangled breast.

"Is that any way to ask? Haven't I taught you better manners than that?" Ryan taunted her lover, running one
finger lightly over her swollen labia. The scent of Carissa's arousal was almost more intoxicating then the scent
of blood.

"Damn you, fuck me!" Carissa screamed, but Ryan only laughed and bent to the other nipple. She had to be
careful. She did not want to weaken Carissa too much. She bit deep into the areola, her fangs gouging deep

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into the flesh, and Carissa screamed, the sweet sound that made Ryan's own cunt spasm with pleasure as she
drank hungrily of her lover's blood.

When Ryan released the nipple, Carissa fell back on the bed sobbing. Ryan slowly kissed between her breasts
and up to her throat, finally covering her mouth in a deep passionate kiss. She probed with her tongue, and
Carissa opened to her, as she always did, but this time, the taste of blood was on Ryan's lips. Carissa's eyes
opened wide with surprise.

Ryan sat back on her heels looking down at her victim, her lover. Slowly, she undid the laces of her trousers,
freeing her cock. This too was a ritual, and she smiled as Carissa moaned with pleasure. The young woman had
learned quickly what this meant. She spread her legs wider for Ryan, but the vampire was not yet finished.

Ryan took a pearl-handled dagger from her boot. The pommel matched the wolf on the pendant Carissa
always wore around her neck. The emerald eyes glinted in the candlelight as Ryan drew the dagger in a single,
hard stroke across her palm.

Ryan held her hand up in front of Carissa's eyes. The blood flowed slowly, almost reluctantly. Three drops
formed along Ryan's palm. They were a deep red, so dark as to be almost black. Ryan held her hand to
Carissa's mouth. For a moment, Carissa was too stunned to move. She looked into Ryan's eyes and saw the
command there. She licked the blood from Ryan's hand in one stroke of her tongue. The taste was so different
from her own blood: so much richer and intoxicating. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste, and thus did not
see that, where her tongue had stroked Ryan's palm, the cut had healed.

Carissa felt Ryan move down between her thighs. She ran her hands up Ryan's arms, stroking her shoulders as
Ryan began to tease her clit with her tongue. The long strokes drew Carissa's hips up. She arched and rocked to
Ryan's rhythm. She had been wild with lust and passion many times at Ryan's hands, but she had never
reached this place before. It was not that the pleasure was so much greater but that her whole body resonated
with each stroke. All of her nerves were on fire with lust. Her fingers curled into claws, and she raked Ryan's
shoulders, shredding her shirt as the vampire slowly sank her teeth into Carissa's clit.

A single drop of blood bloomed red in the center of the flower of Carissa's labia. Ryan leaned back a moment to
watch as Carissa's cum flowed in a tide that almost swamped the drop of blood. She rescued it with her tongue,
drinking deeply of the cream as well as the blood. Beneath her, Carissa writhed in orgasm as her cunt spasmed
over and over. Ryan took her time, drinking all of her lover's sweet offering. It was a taste she never tired of, a
taste that made her body alive with pleasure.

Carissa lay back on the bed, almost spent. She closed her eyes and felt Ryan's lips on her own. She smiled and
kissed her lover deeply, wrapping her arms around Ryan. She wanted to feel her lover's weight on her before
she slept. She looked into Ryan's eyes with love and trust.

"I love you," Carissa whispered.

Ryan didn't answer. She grabbed a handful of Carissa's hair and pulled her head back, once more exposing her
throat. At the same moment, Ryan sank her teeth into the soft flesh and drove her cock into Carissa's
welcoming cunt. Carissa screamed with both pain and pleasure. She rocked beneath Ryan as her lover thrust
savagely again and again, bruising her with the power of her thrusts. The blood flowed into Ryan's mouth, and
she sucked hard. Never before had she used a woman this way letting her demon hunger feed without restraint
while her passion peaked. After centuries of iron control, she let her lust for blood and sex run together

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unchecked. Only in her fantasies had she dreamed of this ultimate taking. She plunged deeper and deeper,
sucking the life out of Carissa. Ryan was in an ecstasy beyond orgasm. This time she took more then Carissa
could give. She plunged in over and over, and the blood lust overcame her, as she had not allowed in over six
hundred years.

Several moments later, Ryan came to herself, slowly swimming up from the depths of her pleasure. She
groaned and stretched and pushed herself onto her knees. She looked down at her dead lover and smiled.
Taking the ruins of Carissa's riding habit, Ryan cleaned her cock and tucked it back in her trousers. Then she
went to wake her servants and order them to pack. By dawn they would be many miles away.

"You killed me," Carissa said with shock.

"Of course, my dove. You cannot become the undead unless you are first dead."

"Now listen, my dear, there are many things you have to learn to survive in your present state. The first few
months are the hardest. Your body is changing, and right now you are very weak. You need to feed, tonight if
possible." Carissa nodded. "I will subdue someone for you to feed on until you learn to control your new
abilities. It will take many years before you gain the physical strength I have, but there are other ways to
subdue prey, and I am sure you will have no trouble enticing either men or women to look into your lovely
eyes."

"Do we have to? Don't your servants allow you to feed from them? Couldn't I just—"

"No. They have given me their loyalty, and in return I have pledged them that neither they nor any of their
families shall fall victim to me or my kind. It is a powerful pact, and some of these families have served me for
generations. I will not risk breaking my bargain with them until I am sure you can control your hunger."

"Then am I doomed to become a killer?"

"That is up to you, my dear. You are very strong, very strong-willed. If you can exert enough self-control, then
you never need kill any of your victims. Just be sure never to choose someone ill or weak, or a child."

"I would never harm a child," Carissa interrupted, aghast.

"I did. My own niece. When the hunger is on you, you take what you can get. Carissa, I know you. I know how
it would hurt you if you had to become a killer, and I will help you all I can, but in the end it will be up to you."

Carissa nodded, feeling more frightened now than she had been when she had realized her lover was a
vampire. She took deep breaths to steady herself, wondering what changes her body had undergone. For a
while, they rode in silence, each lost in her own thoughts. Then the carriage began to slow.

The inn was moderately busy. Ryan's carriage and wagon pulled into the yard, and immediately grooms were
there to take the horses. The innkeeper himself led them to the rooms Ryan's servant had arranged for them.
There was even a steaming tub standing in an alcove, and Ryan assured the innkeeper that everything was
satisfactory and gently got rid of him.

Carissa looked at the hot water and then at Ryan. "Go ahead, my dear. I bathed this morning before we left the

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last inn."

"This morning? How long was I asleep?" Carissa wasted no time shedding her clothing, and Ryan lounged
back in her seat watching her. She never tired of looking at that lovely body.

"Asleep? Four days. Not all that long really, but I expect you are starving." Ryan had a smile on her face that
Carissa wasn't sure how to interpret. She scrubbed herself quickly, noting that all of the damage Ryan had
done had healed completely. The only scar on Carissa's body was from a cut she had received on her knee
when she was twelve years old. She would have liked to take the time to examine her new body more closely,
but something was driving her to hurry. She was in and out of the tub in just a few minutes, and Ryan
indicated a bag that held some clothing for her. She changed into a simple dress, Ryan buttoning it for her.
There had been petticoats in the bag but no bloomers. Carissa suspected this was a deliberate omission, but she
said nothing. Right now her need was overwhelming.

There was a knock at the door, and two maids brought in a rich dinner for the travelers. It would not go to
waste; Ryan's servants would eat it with pleasure while Ryan and Carissa hunted. Ryan could see how Carissa
eyed the two girls, almost salivating over them, but Ryan knew they could not afford to feed on these two. They
would be missed all too soon from the kitchen, and then questions would be asked. As soon as the girls left,
Ryan admitted her coachmen and groom. She took Carissa's arm and led her out of the inn, taking the back
way the groom had scouted out for her.

It was still too busy in the inn yard to hunt, so Ryan led Carissa out along the cliffs. Below them the ocean beat
on the rocks with a steady rhythm. It was the dark of the moon, but they had no trouble seeing their way. The
night was cold with a stiff north wind, but the cold never bothered Ryan. Carissa was still human enough to
shiver, but she strode along restlessly, little growls escaping her from time to time. Ryan did not try to talk to
her. She knew from experience how consuming this first hunger was. They finally reached a premonitory and
could go no farther. The sky was a blue-black tapestry studded with white fire. The salt smell of the sea
combined with its music to set a most romantic scene, yet Ryan knew if she took Carissa in her arms, the young
woman would only snarl at her. Romance was not on her mind tonight. Carissa stood with her fists clenched so
tightly that Ryan was afraid she would draw blood with her nails. Ryan took her arm and gently turned her
back the way they had come.

The inn was quiet now, all the windows dark. In the stable yard there were the soft sounds of horses stamping
occasionally in their stalls. Ryan knew there would be stable boys sleeping in the loft, but the one she wanted
was the head groom. He was a strong, large man who could afford to lose a lot of blood with no danger. He
would sleep in the small shed next to the stable. Ryan signaled Carissa to wait as she deftly slipped the blade of
her dagger under the latch. Ryan could have made a very good thief if she wanted to, but there was no longer
any need for her to make her fortune that way. She entered the small building and pulled the man up from his
bed effortlessly. He was awake now, but fear closed his throat so he could only whimper.

Carissa followed Ryan into the windowless shed. Inside it was almost completely dark, yet she could see her
victim clearly. His blood fairly pulsed with iridescent reds in his veins. She walked up to him and took his face
in her hands. He started to struggle, and Ryan's grip tightened, but Carissa looked him directly in the eyes. He
froze like a rabbit, and she pulled his head back the way Ryan had pulled hers so many times: by his hair.
There was nothing sensual about this feeding. She bit him hard and drank. His blood was like liquid fire filling
her with power. The dizziness she had felt since she had woken left her, and she felt new strength in all her
limbs. The smell of his blood, the taste, filled all her senses, and she gorged as the hunger consumed her

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completely.

Carissa became aware of pain. Ryan was calling her name, telling her to stop, but she ignored her. Her senses
were overwhelmed with the pleasure of her feeding. Ryan wound Carissa's hair around her hand and pulled
hard. "Stop. That is enough. You will kill him."

Carissa loosened her bite, and immediately Ryan let the man sag to the floor. Carissa snarled at Ryan, her
hands curled into claws, infuriated that someone should come between her and her prey. The smell of blood
was heavy on the air. There was rage in Carissa's eyes as she lunged at Ryan, but Ryan caught her and held
her. It would be years, she had been told, years before she could match Ryan's physical strength. With that
thought, sanity returned. Carissa looked down in horror at the fallen man.

"Did… did I kill him?"

"No. He will be weak for a few days, but he will recover." Ryan lifted the man and put him back on the bed,
covering him with the blanket.

"If you hadn't been with me, I would have killed him." Carissa looked up. "I'm not sure I can live this way. I'm
not sure I can live with myself if… if I become a monster."

"Am I a monster?"

"No! No, you never take more than is offered. You never hurt anyone," Carissa smiled, "at least no more than
they wish to be hurt."

"It took me many years to gain control over my instincts. For almost a century I was a monster, a demon. And
for a long time I couldn't see any reason not to be. Control will come with time. I would not have made you if I
did not believe that."

"Will it take me a hundred years?" Carissa asked wistfully.

"No, because you have me to teach you, to help you. I had no one, and I started in the worst possible way. Guilt
is not a good way to learn control. It erodes the soul, presuming vampires have a soul. The first few weeks will
be the hardest, my dove. I drained you completely, so your hunger is very great. You will need to hunt at least
every other day for a time, but after that once a week should be sufficient."

Carissa shivered. "I take it then you don't need to hunt tonight."

"Not for some time after what I took from you."

"Did you have to drain me so completely?" Carissa asked, only half complaining.

"It was better that I did. The transformation will be smoother for you this way and will go more quickly. I have
heard that some suffer tremendous pain or can't even take nourishment for months after they are made
because there is some sort of rejection of the new body by the old. Somehow if the blood is gone there is no such
rejection."

Carissa nodded. "I suppose you have lots of experience with making vampires."

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"No. Actually, you are only the second person I have ever made." Carissa looked surprised. "I do not need to
litter the countryside with monuments to my ego, my dear."

"I just thought, after all those years…"

"Maybe I just never had much of a parental instinct. Some see this as a way to have the child that they cannot
bear."

Ryan put her arm around Carissa and drew her toward the inn. "My dear, I do not need to hunt myself, but
watching you has whetted a different kind of appetite."

Carissa laughed softly, and together they slipped back into the inn, leaving the night safer behind them.

3

Hunting

Hull was a busy seaport for most of the year. Only the worst of winter storms would close the North Sea port
and drive the adventurous captains to harbor. It was still early in the fall, so ships were constantly loading and
unloading at the docks. The trade here was not as brisk as in London or Dover; the great clippers that plied the
China trade did not come this far north, but still ships sailed north to Scotland, Denmark, Norway, and even
Russia as well as east to Belgium and Holland. Most of the ships were freighters, but passage could be found to
all points north from Hull.

Ryan had chosen to travel by ship rather then carriage or rail for many reasons. She wanted to send a false trail
to Europe, and she had found a couple who was more than willing to dress in rich clothing and travel first class
to France using Ryan's and Carissa's names. Then, too, Carissa could send a letter to her parents that would first
travel south by ship to Dover and then be sent inland by regular post. It would be almost ten days before Ryan
and Carissa could board a ship north to Edinburgh, but the time was better spent in a secure house than
traveling in the blacked-out carriage by day. It would take being stopped only once, having the door to the
carriage opened only one time, for Carissa to be reduced to a pile of ash. Ryan was much older and over the
years had acquired some resistance to the effects of the sun, but even she could not face a sunny day. The train
would have been somewhat less dangerous than the carriage, but Ryan suspected that Carissa's family would
check the rail stations first, so Ryan had risked the three-day journey by carriage to Hull.

The house Ryan had hired was not in the best of neighborhoods, but that was all the better. When night fell and
the fog rolled in, Ryan took Carissa out to hunt. There would be no hunting aboard ship; in a closed
community with so few people it would not be wise to risk a mysterious illness that left sailors or passengers
strangely weak or, if Carissa's self-control should fail, dead. In the next ten days, Ryan would take Carissa
hunting almost nightly until her appetite was completely sated.

Ryan's servants had tacked thick felt over the bedroom windows. The room was furnished adequately, if
cheaply, with old furniture but a fairly new bed. Carissa wondered if Ryan had had a new bed brought in by
her servants before they arrived. The very best thing about the house was a bathroom with a real tub. True, the
hot water had to be brought up from the kitchen, but both Carissa and Ryan enjoyed a good long soak after a
night of hunting.

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Carissa lay back now in Ryan's arms. The water lapped around the two women as they relaxed just before
dawn. Ryan's fingers played with Carissa's nipples, and Carissa leaned back, exposing her throat to her lover.
Ryan kissed the smooth skin, but both women had fed well that night. The lovemaking that was becoming a
ritual after the hunt left both feeling languorous. In some ways, Carissa's second hunt had been even harder
than her first. Her hunger was still overwhelming, but she was determined not to have any lives on her
conscience.

When Ryan and Carissa had arrived at the house in Hull, a surprise awaited Carissa. She entered the somewhat
shabby master bedroom to find two trunks waiting for her. One of them contained many of her favorite dresses
and gowns. The other contained undergarments, although there were still no bloomers among the petticoats
and camisoles. Carissa laughed softly at the omission. She was coming to enjoy Ryan slipping a hand or a
booted foot under her skirts and caressing her bare thighs. She did not mind at all the implication that she
always be available to her lover.

Carissa opened the top drawer of the second trunk and found her jewel case safely stored there. She opened it
and found not only the jewelry she kept on her dressing table but also the much more expensive jewelry that
her father kept locked in his safe.

"Ryan, when did you collect my jewelry?"

"That first night while my servants made ready to travel. I went to your house and collected a few things for
you."

"Thank you, beloved, but you really didn't need to bother with half these things. I am not so fond of my
grandmother's jewels. You need not have bothered with my father's safe."

"Why should he be allowed to keep your inheritance? You will not get anything from him. Why should he get
anything from you?"

"I see your point, but was it worth the risk for something I am not likely ever to wear?"

"Believe me, my dear, when I tell you that there was no risk. I can move like a shadow when I choose. I spent a
good hour in your father's house and not even the mice knew I was there. Actually, I intended that you sell
some, if not all, of your jewelry. I will teach you how to invest your money so that you will always have the
funds to live as you wish." Ryan smiled at the look of surprise on Carissa's face. "It is not that I will not give you
a home, my dove, nor that I will begrudge you what you desire, but would you not feel better knowing you
had funds under your own control?"

"I hadn't thought of that. Ryan, are you doing this because you think that I will leave you one day? Or that you
might tire of me?"

Ryan took a deep breath. "I am older than you know how to imagine, Carissa. There may come a time when I
tire of this existence. There may come a time when you seek a younger companion." Ryan held up her hand to
stop Carissa's protest. "Eternity is a very long time, and I want you to be prepared for the future. But that is
only part of my purpose. In the world you come from women are not expected to know anything of the wider
world. Money is considered dirty, but that is simply because men do not wish women to have the power of their
own property, their own fortunes. Perhaps a mortal woman can afford to live like that, but we cannot. You
need to be in control of your life because not to be means your destruction."

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"How long would my servants be loyal to me if I did not pay them handsomely? Yes, I know, some of them like
me, but they cannot eat my gratitude," Ryan said sardonically. "It is possible to live as a poor vampire; I did it
for enough centuries. But it is much more pleasant to have a safe haven and a hot bath to retire to each
morning. I could give you that, and you would be safe with me, perhaps for as long as we both exist, but you
would not learn how to care for yourself. You would not learn to think as an independent person, and someday
that could cost you your existence."

Carissa nodded. "If I sold these, how long could I live on the money?"

"It depends on what you mean by live on. If you were willing to live in a house like this with one or two
servants, you could probably live out what would have been the rest of your mortal life on the sale of this one
necklace. If you want to keep a house such as your parents do, then this same necklace would last you maybe
five years."

"Oh. I hadn't thought how very valuable these were or how very expensive my family's lifestyle was."

"In terms of human life, one of these could feed the entire village you lived in for a year or more. But if you gave
all you owned to feed the poor, it would be as a drop in the sea."

"Does that mean we should not try to help? Or do you believe like my father does that the poor are poor
because they are lazy or unfit?"

"If you give food to the poor, they just breed more poor."

"Ryan!"

"It is the truth, my dear. I don't suppose your father would let you read Darwin or Malthus, but just giving food
to the poor does not help in the long run because they will just breed more."

"So allowing children to starve to death is a good thing?"

"Until society gives not only food but also jobs and education to the poor, it is a good thing, or eventually
everyone would die of hunger. We can produce only so much food, my dear. Already the population of
England has grown so over the past fifty years that we strain our resources. The poor must be given not only
the opportunity to produce their own food but also the education and means to control their breeding."

Carissa was deeply embarrassed now. Even the frank conversations she had had with Ryan before had not
prepared her to talk so openly of things no woman in polite society would even refer to obliquely. "Is… is there
a way…" Carissa stammered.

"You mean other then not having intercourse?" Ryan smiled as Carissa looked down. Vampires couldn't blush,
but Ryan could read Carissa's body language very well. "Yes, there is a way. Actually more than one way, but
only the rich have access to the doctors who teach about birth control. If we tried to teach the poor, the churches
would be appalled. They would claim such knowledge would be encouraging the poor to behave in a licentious
manner. That, my dear, is reserved for the rich."

"That still doesn't mean that we shouldn't try to help."

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Ryan sighed. "Those who are in my employ, who belong to me, I treat well and make sure they earn a good
wage. That is a great deal more then your father does."

"What do you mean? Our servants were always well treated and cared for."

"Really? Do you have any idea how much your servants are paid? Or how much work each one does?
Although your mother is a good woman and does indeed treat her servants much better than is normal, I was
talking about the people who work in your father's factories. The children, I should say. Children do not have to
be paid the same wage as an adult but can be beaten and bullied into working twelve hours a day for a
pittance. Your father's mills run on child labor, and the food you ate, the clothing on your back, they all were
paid for by those children."

"I didn't know, Ryan." Carissa looked appalled.

"No, and neither does your mother. I think most women don't want to know. They'd rather live their narrow
lives and leave all the sordid details to their husbands, who in turn hire managers so that they too are insulated
from the knowledge of where the money comes from."

"I do want to know. Ryan, if I sell the jewelry then How can I invest in companies who treat children like
slaves?"

"You don't. I own several mines and mills in Scotland. I employ only adults and pay them enough that they
and their families are well fed and clothed. And when I do take apprentice lads in the mines or mills, they are
not worked to death to support their brothers and sisters. There are those who believe that it is impossible to
make a profit my way, but they are wrong. I may not earn as much from my mines as I could, but I earn
enough to suit me."

"I thought you didn't care Ryan. I thought you said vampires couldn't love. Why then do you treat your people
better?"

"Because they are my people. I don't have to love them, Carissa, to know they serve me better if they are well
cared for. How much wool will a flock produce if it is pastured on stony ground?"

"Is that all it is then? Common sense?"

"You keep looking for noble motives in me, my dear." Ryan smiled. "Why should it be more than common
sense? That, and perhaps that I have learned to take a much longer view than mortals. After all, I will still need
my mills and mines to produce for me two hundred years from now. The common man need worry about only
the next fifty years, if that."

Carissa nodded. She laid the necklaces and bracelets, the rings and earrings, on the bed.

"Which will you keep?"

"I like the amethyst best. I will keep those."

"Keep the rubies as well. I will have them reset for you."

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"You do love red, my lord."

"It is my nature." Ryan laughed. "And the rest? What will you do with them?"

"Sell them and invest in your mills and mines. And when I have a good enough income, well, I will see then
what I can do. Or do you think I will lose sight of charity as I become less and less human?"

"I don't know, Carissa. Perhaps I lost my humanity because I never had all that much to begin with. Now, put
those pretty baubles away and let us go hunt."

It was completely dark when Ryan and Carissa left the house, but it was still too early to hunt. Ryan was
dressed all in black, but not in the normal clothing she wore. Instead, she had dressed as a mate from a ship
might dress to better fit in with the crowds of sailors who overflowed the taverns and pubs. The dress that
Carissa wore was not one that her mother had ordered for her. It was scandalously short and very low cut. The
fabric was a bit flashy, and Carissa realized that she could be mistaken for a streetwalker in the dress. When
she had modeled the dress for Ryan, she had not protested but had asked rather archly if she was to be the bait
that night. Ryan had only smiled and kissed her roughly.

The first tavern they had stopped in was full of smoke and laughter and warmth. Carissa was fascinated. No
woman of her class would ever go to such a place. Indeed, no respectable woman of any class would. There
were women in the tavern, most dressed more or less like Carissa, but mostly the place was filled with men
drinking and flirting. Ryan kept a proprietary arm around Carissa, and some of the girls looked at her with
envy that she should have snagged someone who was obviously an officer.

It was Carissa's first taste of beer, and she rather liked it. She also liked the informality of the place. She knew
enough not to talk much, for her accent would give her away, but Ryan spoke in accents and words that
Carissa could barely understand. Mostly she smiled a lot and kept her comments to one or two words. In time,
she would pick up the accents and dialects, but for now she just observed.

Ryan seemed to know the names of many of the ships in port and who sailed them. She traded gossip with the
sailors, but what information she was after, Carissa could not guess. While they were in with crowds of people
sharing the warmth and noise, Carissa's hunger lay in abeyance. But once they left the light, she began to feel
its incessant call. She willed herself to breathe deeply, to stroll along slowly with Ryan. They began to walk the
less-frequented streets, making their way to the docks. Once Carissa felt fingers at her pocket, and Ryan turned
to growl at a street urchin who was trying to rob them. The boy ran off with an impudent laugh, and Ryan
chuckled softly. But Carissa felt a tug to chase after him, to run him down, and to corner him helplessly and
feed. She had to stop to control the trembling in her legs as the urge to hunt all but overwhelmed her. Ryan
stood next to her, allowing her to take control of her own instincts.

"I did not realize it would be like this," Carissa whispered.

"We are predators, my dear. We feel not only the hunger for blood but the hunger for the chase as well."

"I could never understand why so many of our friends loved fox hunting. I loved riding Nightshade in the hunt,
but I never wanted to catch the poor fox or felt any thrill in chasing it. I suppose I understand now."

"No, this is not the same at all. Twenty or thirty hunters, not to mention hounds, chasing a single fox is no
hunt." There was scorn in Ryan's voice. "Hunting any animal is nothing like this, for they do not share what

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makes humans the most dangerous prey of all."

"Intelligence?"

"I was thinking more of cruelty, my dear. The cunning fox can outsmart the hunters. Only humans can turn
the hunt around and make us the prey. Never underestimate the power of the mob. If the hue and cry is raised,
humans will act unthinkingly to destroy us."

"But vampires are stronger, have more powers than humans. Surely a vampire must win any struggle?"

"Whatever gave you that idea? True, I am physically stronger than any one man, or two, or perhaps three men,
but I could not withstand a mob, and you are still as weak as you were before the change. A vampire's physical
strength is an outgrowth of her strength of will. Learning to focus that will, learning to overcome the hunger in
order to work your will, that takes great practice. Not all those who are made survive long after their change.
Many are unmade within the first year or two. Which is all to the good, or the hunters might outnumber the
prey one day."

They had reached a deserted area near the docks. Large warehouses lined the streets, and at this time of night
all was in darkness. Ryan drew Carissa deep into the shadows. They crept along the side of a building. Near the
front Carissa could make out the prow of a ship. The warehouse abutted directly on the dock for ease of loading
and unloading. The night was fairly clear, and Carissa could hear the water lapping against the pilings. She
could also hear the sound of a man muttering softly to himself. She began to feel the power thrumming along
her nerves and to feel the heat of his blood calling her.

They stopped at the edge of the building. Carissa had eyes only for her prey. He was a large man, armed with a
billet. He was there to guard the goods that were still stacked on the pier. She started forward, but Ryan held
her back. Ryan was searching the night to see if the guard had a companion. Ryan could feel Carissa trembling
with eagerness, but she held tight to the inexperienced hunter until she was sure there was no one else nearby.

"Listen, my dove. He is much stronger than you, and though he could not kill you with that piece of wood, he
could hurt you badly." Ryan's whisper was so soft in her ear that, even with her hunter's senses, Carissa had to
strain to hear her.

"You cannot overpower him, nor do you have enough skill to mesmerize him. I could help you again, and if
you wish me to, I will, but you must learn to do this yourself. In any case, I will be close by to help, if you
should need it."

"How?" Carissa whispered with almost no sound.

"You are beautiful, my dear. Let that be your weapon. It is a formidable one." Carissa started to protest, but
Ryan gave her a little push toward the guard. Carissa felt something pressed into her hand, but when she
looked over her shoulder, Ryan was gone. She cursed softly to herself and then saw that the guard had heard
some noise. He had risen and was holding the billet ready in his hand.

Before the man could call the alarm, Carissa stepped boldly out of the shadows. She let her shawl slip down her
shoulders, and the moonlight fell on the white mounds of her breasts as they crested over her dress. She looked
quickly at the silver gleam in her hand and smiled when she saw it was a flask. Now she felt the thrill of the
hunt, and all other thoughts left her mind. This was her prey alone, and it would be her skill that took him. She

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sauntered forward confidently, feeling her skirt swirl about her calves as she moved her hips in the rhythm of
her stride.

"Hey, sweet thing, what are you doing clown here?" the man called out softly.

"I got lonely," Carissa pouted. She came closer until she stood warmed by the soft light of the man's lantern. It
gave her white skin a golden glow and glinted sparks from her amber eyes. She stopped so the man could get a
good look at her.

"Yer all alone?" the man asked suspiciously. He was smart enough to realize that she might be a decoy for
some thieves.

"Unfortunately," Carissa sighed. "He drank too much and passed out, leaving me all alone. And I don't want to
be alone tonight."

The guard cleared his throat as she came closer. He was staring at her breasts, licking his lips unconsciously.
"Wait here," he ordered.

Carissa watched while he lifted his lantern and searched the shadows. She was confident Ryan would not be
detected. Part of her wanted to jump snarling on the man's back and take him just like that, but she knew she
was not strong enough. Besides, he would bellow with alarm, and there were probably other men sleeping on
the ship or in the warehouse. She watched him search, and she realized he was too tall for her to reach his neck
if he stood. She looked around and found a pile of sacking next to the door of the warehouse. Carissa moved to
the sacks and spread them into a nest. Then she settled down on them, letting her skirt ride up above her knees.
When the guard returned, she waved him over.

The guard satisfied himself that no gang of thugs was waiting to jump him while the streetwalker distracted
him. He was still confused. Women of her quality didn't usually work the docks. He could see she was
unmarked by the pox and so young that her flesh was firm and supple. He licked his lips again as he looked
down at her. She held up the flask and then waved him closer.

"Is it silver?" he asked.

Carissa shrugged. "I suppose so."

"You steal it?"

Carissa laughed. "Just borrowed it. He'd had more than enough to drink, and he won't miss it till morning.
Want some?"

The guard sat down next to Carissa and took the flask from her. It was filled with fine brandy, not the cheap
rum he was used to, and he smacked his lips with appreciation.

"How much?"

Carissa turned and posed for him, her breasts straining against the fabric. She shrugged, and her sleeve slid
down to reveal a white shoulder. "How much am I worth to you?"

The guard wiped his lips. He could not afford such a whore, and he knew that. But he also knew she must

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know it. Perhaps she just wanted a real man after the rich drunks who were probably her usual customers. He
reached in his pocket and found a silver coin. He took it out and offered it to her. He was relieved to see her
smile and pocket it. She hadn't been insulted. Good.

"Finish the brandy," Carissa suggested. He smiled at her, almost shyly, and took a long pull at the flask. Then
he lay back next to her, running one hand up her leg. In a moment, he would discover that Carissa wore
nothing under her skirts. She leaned up on her elbow and pushed him down flat. When she bent to kiss his
neck, he chuckled.

"Eager for it, aren't you?" he whispered.

Carissa bit his neck, feeling the blood well into her mouth. He uttered one gasp of surprise and then lay still
succumbing to the narcotic that was part of a vampire's bite. He moaned softly as she fed. The hunger had her
now. All that mattered was the taste and scent of blood. She let it fill her completely, her eyes swam with the
vision of red that was the blood still swirling in his veins. She felt heat building along her limbs, and the
excitement of her victory over this man combined with her hunger to drive her to the heights of intoxication.
Time stopped while she fed, and her whole world contracted to a red haze of heat and power and blood.

Carissa sensed a difference in color. The red was not so bright, and heat of the man was cooling. She heard
Ryan calling her name, and she snarled. This was her prey, her victim. She had taken him all by herself. She
would not give any part of him to another. When she turned to face Ryan, combat was in her eyes. She jumped
up into a crouch, and it was the stance of one predator protecting its prey from another. She was filled with
such rage that it overwhelmed even her hunger. But Ryan just sat there squatting on her heels making no move
at all.

At last Carissa closed her eyes. She got up abruptly and stalked off into the night. Ryan stopped only to take
back her flask, and then she followed Carissa to the far side of the pier.

Carissa stood looking down into the water, her hands clenched at her sides.

"If I could vomit, I would." Carissa's voice was tight with self-disgust.

"Why? You succeeded admirably. You even stopped before you took too much. He will wake whole and well in
a few hours."

"I let him touch me! I let a man…" Carissa's voice was soft but full of intensity. "He even paid me! And Ryan, I
enjoyed it. I loved feeling that power over him. You know… you know I don't feel that way about men. But I let
him…"

"Carissa, why do you think any woman becomes a streetwalker? Do you think she does it because she likes to
lay with men?"

"I…"

"I know, gently brought up women aren't even supposed to know there are such women, or if there are, they
are all wicked. Tell me, did the women in the tavern seem wicked to you?"

"No."

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"Well, then, why do they do it?"

"I suppose… I suppose they have to eat."

"Exactly. Some of them have children to support and no other way to feed them. Even if they do like men, I
doubt very much they enjoy lying with most of their customers, but they have no choice. Society gives them
none."

"So now I am a whore?" Carissa asked, deliberately using the harshest word she knew.

"You do what you have to to survive. Frankly, I would rather be a whore then a hypocrite like your father who
earns his money from the labor of children. At least whores give honest pleasure for the money they receive. To
me, that is a great deal more honorable then being a procurer like your father."

"But I didn't exactly live up to my side of the bargain, Ryan." Carissa held out the coin the guard had given her.
"I should give it back, since I did not give him what he paid for."

Ryan smiled. "He valued you highly. That is half a week's wages for a man like that." Carissa gasped. "I don't
think he will rue his bargain in the morning, my dove. He won't remember exactly what happened. He will
remember a beautiful woman who came to him, and the wonderful pleasure that followed."

"Pleasure?"

"Don't you find it pleasurable when I take you, my dear?"

"Yes… but I thought… I mean, you make love to me when you…"

Ryan smiled. "Oh yes, there are other kinds of pleasure as well. But that is in part because I bring you out of the
pleasure spell feeding itself brings. Some vampires do take their victims in terror and pain. They like the taste of
the blood better that way. Myself, I find it rather bitter. Carissa, I don't know how the magic works, but you do
know that as long as the victim is not killed all the wounds inflicted heal, usually before morning. It is part of
the same mechanism. When we take blood, we give something; I've heard it likened to opium. It gives great
pleasure to the victim. Your guard will wake up happy. You have not cheated him."

"I guess I really didn't understand what I was asking for, Ryan. I thought once I learned how to control my
feeding, then it would not matter. I could live this way and still be myself."

"I can physically overpower my victims, or I can control them with the strength of my will. Is that really better
than seducing them?"

"You… you did seduce me."

"Yes, and I enjoyed it enormously. Carissa, as you become stronger, you will be able to choose How you take
your victims, but make no mistake: you will always be the predator and they the prey. There are no moral
grays to that distinction."

"Unless the prey comes willingly, like I did."

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"Ahhh, but there are those who would count that the greatest crime of all: I seduced a young, innocent girl into
my licentious ways. Many, your parents included, would think this a worse crime than had I raped and killed
you. At least then your soul would have remained innocent. Tell me, do you feel I have cheated you? That I
have taken something precious from you?"

"No. From the first time I met you, before you ever touched me, I felt something. And when you made love to
me that first night, I wanted it as much as you did."

"Well, you are honest at least, my dove. Tonight, that man wanted you. Never mind that you did not, would
never, want him in the same way. You gave him something he will cherish: a memory of something that really
did not happen, but still a precious memory for him. And if you took something he did not bargain for, well,
that is the nature of our existence. Some would call it evil. It just is."

Carissa nodded. "It will be daylight in a couple of hours. We should go back to the house. Unless you need to
hunt?"

"Tomorrow night."

Ryan put her arm around Carissa and began leading her home. She was pleased with her little pet. She had
done well that night. That she felt horror at what she had done was not a bad thing, for it was the ones who
took with no shame at all that became the true monsters. There had to be a balance in the mind. For Ryan, it
was pragmatism that dictated How and whom she fed on, or at least that is how she rationalized it. For Carissa,
well, Ryan would just have to watch her grow and change. It would make for an interesting diversion. After so
many years life did have a lot of sameness to it, and it was that, more than anything, which could drive a
vampire to carelessness. Carissa would be very diverting. And then, when she was ready, when she was strong
enough, then Ryan would see if she had forged the instrument of her revenge.

4

Past Imperfect

Wolf Manor stood on the cliffs overlooking the Firth of Forth halfway between Edinburgh and Queensferry.
The house was old, built of massive stones, and in the light of the moon, it looked like nothing more than the
type of haunted manor that was so popular in the penny dreadfuls. All it lacked was a storm lashing at the
moors and lightning raging around the massive tower that grew out of the manor. But the night was clear, and
the moon shone just past full, silhouetting the house on its cliff top.

Inside the house was very different. It was furnished in a light and airy manner, perhaps a quarter of a century
out of fashion but in many ways much more appealing than the heavy Victorian style currently fashionable.
Carissa was charmed with her chambers, which contained a four-poster bed and a dressing table that gleamed
with golden oak highlights in the light of the fire that had been laid for her welcome. There was a bath waiting
for her, and a maid unpacked her trunks while she luxuriated in the hot water. The one thing she had hated
about the trip north by ship was that she could only sponge bathe. She and Ryan had hunted when the ship
had docked overnight in Newcastle a few days previously, so although she had an appetite, her hunger was
well controlled.

Carissa came down wearing Ryan's favorite gown of crimson silk. The neckline was cut off the shoulders, and

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Carissa's father had forbidden her to wear the gown when he had seen it. That had suited Carissa, who had had
it made for one person alone. Although the rubies were set in a heavy, old-fashioned style, Carissa wore them
this evening. They were the perfect accent for the gown, and she looked magnificent. Ryan, dressed in formal
attire, was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. They would not dine, but still they both felt that their first
night in Ryan's home should be special.

Ryan took Carissa's hand as she came down the last three steps. She kissed her palm, sending a shiver up
Carissa's arm.

"You look magnificent, my dear."

"As do you, my lord."

"I thought you might enjoy a tour of the house tonight, and then we can talk. That is, unless you need to hunt
tonight."

"Soon, my Lord, but tonight I would prefer to spend only in your company."

Carissa's reward was Ryan's smile. Ryan handed her a glass of wine the exact color of the rubies at her neck.
They strolled through the house sipping the wine. Since Ryan used most of the rooms only in the hours of
darkness, she had chosen to furnish the rooms so that there was a feeling of light about them. There was no
heavy, dark furniture or wood paneling as was the Victorian style. The woods were all light-colored oak, maple,
and cherry that gave off golden highlights in the gaslights. The drapes and carpets were in rich jewel tones: reds
and peacock blues and golds. The impression was that the house held no mysteries, that everything was warm
and friendly. Carissa smiled as she thought that it was the owner who was the enigma, not the house itself.

They toured mostly the public rooms that night. There was still the tower to explore, and the basements, which
Carissa would have preferred to miss but Ryan insisted she must learn so that she would know all of the escape
routes from the house. Carissa exclaimed over the library, which was far larger then her father's, and she loved
the cheerfulness of the dining room and the ballroom.

"Do you entertain much here?" Carissa asked.

"Not in many years. My neighbors around here are never quite sure what to make of me. They are under the
impression that I am a man, but a recluse. At least this generation is. But if you would like to entertain, I would
be happy to invite my neighbors to meet my new bride."

Carissa looked down a bit shyly when Ryan called her her bride. Ryan took her into her arms, kissing her
gently.

"I love you with all my heart, my lord." Carissa said, aching to hear the answering words.

"And you are very precious to me, my dove."

It was the most Ryan had ever said, but it still left Carissa feeling bereft. She sighed knowing that this had been
her choice: honest passion even if there could not be love. It was enough, she told herself as Ryan led her into
the last room.

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"This is my study. If you would like to furnish one of the rooms for yourself as a sitting room or study, my dear,
then please do so."

Carissa looked around the room curiously while Ryan lit the wood that had been laid in the fireplace. In many
ways this was the most personal room Carissa had ever seen in either of Ryan's houses. There were curious
objects on the shelves: souvenirs of a very long life that Carissa hoped Ryan would explain one day. She spent
some time examining the objects until Ryan beckoned her. On the mantel was a row of covered paintings, like
icons. Some were obviously much older than others. There were five on the mantel and four others on the
shelves to either side of the fireplace. Ryan opened the painting in the center, the oldest one.

Carissa gasped when Ryan handed her the painting. Except for the costume, she could have been looking in a
mirror.

"It's… it looks so much like my mother."

"Actually, she looks a great deal more like you. When I first saw you that night in the forest, it was as though
Brynn had come riding out of the mist."

"Who is she?"

"Your great-grandmother, many times removed. She was… she was my lover for over seventy-five years. The
first woman I ever made and, until you, the only one."

Carissa sat down somewhat abruptly. Her eyes strayed over the other closed paintings. Ryan took down the
most modern of the group and opened it. Carissa could see something like a family resemblance, but she could
not quite place the face.

"Your grandmother. This artist wasn't quite as good as the others, and of course, you have known Augusta only
as an older woman."

"She… she was your lover too?" Carissa asked incredulously. "And the rest of these?"

"You asked me once what I was doing, living in Sheffield. I was waiting for you, my dear."

"I don't understand."

"Let me start at the beginning, with Brynn. In time you will understand. Know also that you are the only one to
whom I have ever told the entire story."

"I'm not sure the exact year of my making or of my birth. We were not so concerned about counting the years
back then, and there has been at least one change in the calendar itself since my birth. I do remember when
David I issued the proclamation giving Edinburgh the status of a burgh about a year before my making, which
places my birth at about 1110."

"I had been made almost a hundred years when I first met Brynn. I was living as a hermit in the forest not too
far from the town where she lived. She was the daughter of a weaver, and so somewhat prosperous as things
went in those days. I had nothing. I lived in a deep cave that sheltered me from the sun during the day. My
family had driven me away some eighty years before, and so I had drifted, living as I could, where I could. I

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still had so much anger back then: anger at the vampire who made me and anger at the family who despised
me even before I had been made into a monster. For many long years, I slaked that anger with blood and
death, but by the time I met Brynn, I had learned to control my appetites. I didn't even know how much my
being alone hurt then. I suppose I didn't really know until I lost Brynn all those years later."

"I would sometimes sneak down to the edge of the town to watch the people at night. I never ventured into the
town itself. My hunting was done in the forest. I knew Brynn by sight before I ever met her. That day she had
gone to the forest to gather berries. There had been a very good crop that year all over the brambles that edged
the game paths, but the bushes closer to town had already been stripped, so Brynn had to go deeper into the
forest than she would have liked. Her father was a rather hard man who did not like to be disobeyed, so when
Brynn was told to gather berries, she did as she was told."

"It was getting late when the two strangers came upon her. Whether they were simply travelers or robbers, I
didn't know then. They tried to rape her, and she ran away, losing herself deeper and deeper in the forest. I
heard them crashing through the trees. The two men were laughing. They thought it was good sport to be
hunting a maiden like that. They had flanked her, and I knew they would have her in a few moments."

"You rescued her."

Brynn felt the breath burning in her lungs as she scrambled up the steep hill. She could hear the men off to
both sides of her. They were laughing, calling her a rabbit. She tried to save her breath for climbing, but the
sobs kept escaping. When she felt the hand close over her wrist, she would have screamed, but she had no
breath left to make a sound. A sharp tug brought her up over the top of the ridge, face to face with a pale
woman dressed in leather. The woman pushed her into a shallow ditch and whispered for her to stay put. Then
she was gone. All Brynn could do was curl up into a ball and try to force breath into her lungs.

Ryan moved silently back down the ridge. The men were calling to each other, confused about where their
victim had gone. It was almost completely dark now, and they could barely see each other. Brynn's light-
colored dress should have showed through the trees, but the girl had just disappeared. Finally, one of the men
realized she had gone over the ridge. Now they tried to move silently, sure that their victim had gone to earth
close by.

Ryan came up behind one of the men. He never even heard her. Her strong arm curled around his neck,
choking off any breath. She twisted sharply with her superhuman strength, and his neck broke with a soft pop.
She lowered him to the ground silently. She could feel the power of the hunt singing in her veins now. She
growled softly and began to stalk her second victim. All of her senses were heightened. She could hear as the
man rustled the leaves to her right. She could smell his unwashed body, and she wrinkled her nose a bit at the
stink of his arousal. But it was her sense of vision that was the most powerful when she hunted. The man almost
glowed with corpulent red light. She could see the blood swirling through his veins even at this distance, even
through the leaves and branches that stood between them.

Ryan intentionally rattled some branches. The man rose from his half crouch and softly called out his
companion's name. Ryan could hear the first touch of fear in his voice. Good, she thought. She moved without
sound, a shadow among shadows until she was behind the man. He was moving toward where his dead
companion lay. Ryan made soft sounds in her throat, sounds the man was not even aware of hearing but which
made the hairs on his arms stand up. She was driving him now. He kept calling his friend's name, all lust
chilled from his veins. Now his blood ran cold with fear. Ryan played with his senses, tossing a stone to his right

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or left to make him start. Howling softly so that he knew he was being stalked. At last he broke and ran, only to
come crashing down when he tripped over his dead friend. Ryan gave him just enough time to comprehend
what he had fallen over, and then she was on him.

Ryan turned the man over to face her with a contemptuous flip of her arm. He cowered before her now.

"Do you like it?" Ryan whispered. "Do you like being the hunted instead of the hunter?"

The man only whimpered in reply. He looked up at her pale face and knew it was death at whom he stared.

"She isn't the first you've hunted, is she?"

"Yes… yes, I swear, it was just a joke. We meant her no harm." The man was blubbering Now. His accents
were more refined than Ryan had anticipated. She took a moment to examine his clothing. It was no peasant's
weave but sturdy broadcloth such as a merchant might wear. For a moment the mystery of who the man was
intrigued Ryan, but she was too embroiled in the hunt for it to be more then a passing thought.

"Why don't I believe you?" Ryan asked. She grabbed the man's hair and forced his head back. He had soiled
himself already in his fear. Now she let him get a good look at her long fangs before she bent and bit his throat.
She could feel him struggle, writhing with pain in her grasp, and she bit and tore his flesh. The blood was
tinged with the sharpness of fear, but for once, Ryan savored it that way. She continued to tear at his throat,
drinking deeply of his blood and pain.

Ryan searched the bodies. There were heavy purses of coin at both men's belts. She hid these inside her tunic.
They were both armed with daggers but obviously not practiced at using them. The second man had not even
thought of drawing the blade. She stripped them both of their clothing, leaving only the soiled trousers on the
second man. It was after she removed the outer tunics that she had some clue to their identities. They both wore
heavy, silver crosses beneath their tunics, and on their fingers they wore rings with the church's crest. They
were probably some kind of lay messengers of the church. Wrapping her hand in several layers of cloth, Ryan
removed the crosses and rings as well. She would not keep these symbols of a religion that would consider her
an anathema, but to leave them would have looked suspicious. What kind of thief would leave fine silver
behind? She bundled the clothing and boots together and hid them in a tree. She would retrieve them after she
had seen the girl back to her town. The bodies she rolled into a ditch and wished the foxes and other scavengers
a fine meal of them.

"Are you all right?" Ryan asked softly of the girl still curled inside the hollow where she had left her.

Brynn sat up, wiping her eyes. She looked very young and vulnerable, and impulsively, Ryan put an arm
around her.

"Are they gone?"

"Yes, they won't be a problem anymore tonight. Rest a few minutes more and I'll take you back to your
village."

"How do you know where I live?" Brynn asked.

Ryan smiled. "Where else would you live? It's a good five or six miles to the next village, and there are no farms

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out around this way. My name is Ryan, by the way."

"I'm Brynn. What were you doing out here, Ryan? You don't live in my town." It would not occur to Brynn that
Ryan could be a traveler. Women just did not travel alone.

"I live here in the forest."

"You do? Why?"

"My family sent me away, and I had no place else to go."

"Oh."

"Can you walk Now?" Ryan helped Brynn up and brushed the dead leaves from her skirts. As they walked,
Ryan questioned the girl about her home. Her fists tightened when Brynn told her how angry her father would
be because Brynn did not bring back the berries she had been sent for.

"Can't you tell him what happened? About the men chasing you?"

"No, he would blame me, say they tried to rape me because I'm a bad girl. It would be all my fault. He will beat
me anyway. It will be twice as bad if I tell him about the men. He would be sure that I had been flirting with
them, maybe even went with them willingly, and then made up the story about rape as an excuse."

"Come to think of it, my father would have reacted much the same way. Well, we will just have to find your
basket and pick some more berries. You can say you fell in a ditch and had to pick more. He may still be angry
at your being so late, but at least he won't have an excuse to beat you."

"I'm not sure I can find the basket in the dark. I'm not even sure where I dropped it."

"Don't worry, I'll find it."

It was not so hard to find the spot where Brynn had been picking berries when her assailants had found her.
Ryan found the basket kicked under a bush. It was still more then half full, and it did not take long for the two
of them to fill it. For all that Ryan was so much older than the girl, she found herself laughing with her like the
young woman she had been before she had been changed. It was all too soon that they were near the town.
Ryan left Brynn close to the town gates.

"My father often sends me to the forest to gather leaves and berries and other things to make dye," Brynn
confessed. "Will I see you again?"

Ryan smiled. "Yes, yes, you will."

"That winter was the hardest," Ryan told Carissa, "because there was nothing in the forest for her to gather. I
didn't see her for several months. We had become friends that fall. The first friend I had in all those years since I
had been made a vampire. It made the loneliness of the season even harder. There were no travelers in the
forest, so I could not hunt often. I was hungry all the time: hungry for sustenance, but even hungrier for human
contact. I almost went to town a few times wearing the clothing that I had taken from the two men, but a lone

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traveler in that season would have been very suspicious, and of course all of the people who lived in the area
were known."

"She came back to me in the spring, and we became lovers." Ryan looked at Carissa. "I… she didn't know what
I was. I never fed from her, not until much later. In 1231, when Brynn was seventeen, she married her father's
chief apprentice. He was a good man. He never treated her like her father had, and he would not let her father
strike her. For that, I was grateful. She would come to me when she could, even after her children were born. A
son first and then, two years later, twin girls."

"In those years I became a fixture in town. I would dress like a man, and they took me as one. I was a small
trader in herbs and other things that could be found in the forest. I would sometimes watch Brynn and her
children from the inn that was not far from her home. Her father drank himself to death when he was forty. He
tripped one night coming home from the inn and broke his neck. He had beaten his grandson that day for not
working a pattern properly on one of the small looms. The boy was only eight. No, I didn't kill him. If I had
been there, I might have been tempted because he had broken the boy's arm."

"All those years, Brynn and I were lovers, and she did not know what I was. Then one fall, she was about thirty-
three then, I had an accident, and she discovered my secret."

The foliage had turned red and gold, as the nights grew colder. Ryan never felt the cold, but she wore a cape
these days. It was a habit she had adopted because when Brynn could steal a few hours to be with her Ryan
liked to have the warm, soft cape to lay on the ground so her lover need not lay on the cold earth. There would
be no chance of meeting Brynn that night. Brynn and her husband had gone to the fair of Saint Giles, and they
would not be back for two more days. Ryan had thought of going as well, but being around all those
churchmen made her uneasy. Instead, she decided to use the time to gather wood and other herbs that could be
made into fine dyes.

Ryan was intent on gathering the lichens growing on the old forest giants. There was a trick to scraping them
off the boles without harming the tree. Mixed with red or yellow ocher, the lichens could make colors ranging
from a rich brown to a deep forest green. Mixed with wood, they could make the rarest of all colors: purple.
Ryan wasn't sure how a substance mixed with one color could make green and with another purple, but she did
know how much the lichen would bring in profit. She chuckled to herself, thinking what a merchant she had
become in the past years. Her thoughts strayed to Brynn and the homecoming she would give her lover. It was
the last thought she had before she stepped into the pit trap.

The fall itself would have done nothing more than knock the wind out of Ryan, but the sharpened spikes at the
bottom of the hole slashed through her body in two places and drove consciousness from her as her body
absorbed the shock of pain and damage. Ryan woke impaled on the stakes. One had pierced her shoulder and
had scraped her cheek as it protruded from her body just above her breast. The second was much worse. It
passed close to her spine and was embedded deep in her bowels. Either stake should have killed her, but she
was already dead. She could feel her body trying to heal itself around the stakes: not a pleasant sensation at all.
She did not know how long she had been unconscious, but she could not wait to find out if the sun would reach
this part of the pit.

Ryan tried to get her legs under her to push herself off the stakes. The pain threatened her consciousness, and it
was only her will that kept her awake. If she moved to pull herself off of the one stake, the other would tear her

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flesh all the more. She lay back a moment to think. She did not know how a vampire could be destroyed. The
vampire who had made her had not cared for her survival. He had warned her about the sun only because he
wanted her to know fear before she was destroyed, but he had hinted that there were other ways to be unmade.
Ryan tried to remember his words, but he had been too vague. She made herself stop to think. If the stake in
her belly was going to kill her, it would have already done so. The one in her shoulder, However, was close to
her heart. If she did more damage to her chest, then she might pierce her heart. She did not know if that would
kill her, but it seemed like the greater danger. Taking a deep breath, she grasped the stakes on either side of her
body and did the hardest thing she had ever done in life or death. She sat up.

The wood seemed to leave behind lines of fire as it left her body. Her scream was more like that of an injured
animal than a human. But it was not her shoulder that almost caused her to lose consciousness again. As she
forced her weight on her lower body, the second stake tore through her belly until it protruded more than a
hand's breadth from her abdomen. Ryan's hands almost crushed the wood as she held on for support. It took
agonizing minutes to work her legs under her. Each movement made the stake saw back and forth inside her,
tearing more flesh. Finally, her knees were under her, and using her arms to push up, she lifted herself off the
second stake. She let herself collapse into the far corner of the pit, shivering as pain racked her body.

Ryan woke the second time to the sound of birds singing. It was a sound she had not heard in a century. She
looked up and saw it was already morning. The light had not yet reached into the pit, but it would in time.
There was no question of trying to climb out of the pit, even if she had had the strength. Ryan looked around
her, but the walls were straight, and there was no overhang to hide under. Her body was already more then
half healed, but she was weak, weaker then she had ever been before. It took her precious time to work one of
the stakes out of the ground. Already the sun sent a shaft halfway down the pit wall.

Ryan grasped the stake firmly in both hands and began to dig at the soft earthen wall of the pit. Already, she
could feel her flesh beginning to sting with heat. She did the only thing she could: she brought an avalanche of
soil and stones down on herself, burying her body as best she could. She hoped it would be deep enough. The
soft, cool earth encompassed her, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Ryan woke with a feeling of weight on her body. She shifted and felt the gritty soil move around her. Memories
flooded back. The pain was gone, at least until she moved, but the weakness was there like a heavy weight
holding her down. Slowly, she dug her way out of the earthen slide that had covered her. She sat examining
her prison. Standing, she could not reach the edge of the pit. It was more then twice Ryan's height. Ryan
wondered who had dug the trap and for what. Wolves perhaps, although most wolves could be caught in a
much shallower trap even if they were not impaled on the stakes as Ryan had been. The stakes and her dagger
were all she had to work with. If she could bring down enough earth, she might be able to climb up it to the lip
of the pit, but if she was not careful, she could bury herself completely. And she had to be sure that she had
enough shelter left in case she could not escape the trap before the next dawn.

The first thing Ryan did was hollow out a small cave in the dirt. It was on the southern side of the pit, so she was
sure the sun could not reach her there. Then she finished pulling up the rest of the stakes. They were well seated
in the earth, and a task that would have taken her only minutes when she had her full strength took her several
hours of digging and rocking the stakes back and forth to loosen them. Still, she could not risk taking another
fall onto them.

There were twelve stakes in all. She was very lucky that more had not pierced her when she fell. Certainly this
was overkill for any wolf, Ryan thought. Or maybe the trap was meant to catch more then one member of a

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pack. Ryan rested after pulling up the last stake. She could now use them to dig, but she wasn't sure that would
accomplish much. Instead, she took them over to the far corner of the pit. Picking up a large rock, Ryan began
pounding the first stake across the corner so that the point was firmly seated in the east wall and the blunt end
of the stake was resting in a ridge she dug in the north wall. Ryan pounded in three more stakes this way,
spaced about a foot apart. She had the beginnings of a ladder placed across the corner of the pit. Now she stood
and tried her weight on the bottom stake. There was some slippage on the side where the blunt end of the stake
rested in a groove of earth, but Ryan thought it would work.

It took the rest of the night to place the stakes as high as Ryan could reach. She had had to step on the bottom
two rungs to pound in the higher ones, and these, in turn, had to be reset because they gave under her weight.
She looked at her handiwork in the early morning light. Her ladder reached almost six feet up the wall now.
She should be able to use the extra stakes as handholds to make it up to the last rung. From there, she could
reach the edge of the pit and pull herself out. Or so she hoped. She kept having to stop to rest, something that
hadn't happened to her since she had become a vampire. Her head swam from fatigue Now, and she knew she
could not make the attempt to climb out that day. Instead, she curled up in the hollow and pulled her tattered
cape over the opening like a curtain. She could not even find the strength to care whether the shelter was
sufficient. She slept.

Ryan woke feeling somewhat better the next night. The pain had diminished to mere aches, and for now she
could stand without having to hold onto the wall to keep from falling. Vampires need neither to eat nor drink,
yet Ryan's throat was completely parched. She swallowed convulsively and went to her ladder. It took three
tries to climb out of the pit. The first time, one of the stakes broke under her heel, and rather then risk taking
out the entire ladder, she allowed herself to fall hard onto the solid earth. Ryan felt her ribs grinding when she
got up. She cursed the hunter and all his generations for the trap he had built. She replaced the broken stake,
ignoring the pain in her side as she worked. Luckily it was one she could reach from the ground.

Ryan's second attempt ended when she found there was nothing to hold onto when she reached the top of her
ladder. She could barely lift her elbow over the edge of the pit, but she could get no purchase to pull herself out.
Stoically, she carefully climbed back down the ladder. She tore some strips from her cape and made a rope. At
one end, she tied one of the remaining stakes securing the rope at the middle of the stake in a groove she carved
with her dagger. She tucked the rope under her belt and climbed back up. When Ryan reached the top, she
carefully pulled the rope free from her belt and tossed it so the stake caught in the fork of a sapling. She pulled
herself up by the rope, and it held just long enough for her to get one knee over the edge. From there, she could
reach the tree itself and she gratefully climbed out of the pit. She lay exhausted on the ground. For an eternity,
she could not move. Then she began dragging herself back to her cave. It was a near thing. It was well past
dawn when she finally stumbled into her cave. Every inch of her body that was not protected by her clothing
was covered with blisters. She pulled herself just far enough inside to be out of the light, and then she collapsed
senseless.

Brynn had been worried about Ryan. She had been back more than a week, and still she had not seen any sign
of her lover. It was just not like her at all. Making an excuse to her husband, Brynn packed some food and
made her way to Ryan's cave. She had been there many times before, but that day she felt a special urgency.
She found Ryan collapsed just inside the entrance. She pulled her lover to her bed and nursed her as well as she
could, placing cool compresses on the blistered flesh and dripping water into the cracked lips. She could not
imagine how her lover had been hurt in this way. If Ryan had been in a fire, her clothing would have been
burned. Yet although there were great rents in the cloth, there was no sign of it burning. She examined the pale
flesh carefully and found trace scars she had never seen before, but when she went to examine them again some

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hours later, they had all but disappeared. She sat next to her lover, not knowing what to do, or even what Ryan
was anymore.

Ryan woke slowly, in stages. Her body ached as it hadn't since she was human, but even the pain could not
drown out the demands of her hunger. She could feel the hot blood nearby, and the demon that lived in her
core snarled with anticipation and impatience. Ryan moved slowly, not wanting to startle the prey away. She
didn't care if it was a rabbit or a badger, or even a snake; any source of blood would do. She opened her eyes,
and was astonished that her lamp was lit and she was in her bed. She knew she had not done that. Turning her
head, ready to pounce, she was all hunter. The form's back was turned to her, stirring something over a fire. It
was clothed in shadows, and truly all she saw was the hot blood swirling in all of its intoxicating patterns. She
reached out her hands to grasp it, her fingers trembling with weakness.

"Ryan, you're awake," Brynn called joyfully.

It was as if she had been struck. She fell back against the bed, unable to move. Her hunger pounded at her,
demanding, but she could not move.

"Are you all right, my love? How did you get so hurt? Here, I made some broth. You need to drink it to get
your strength back."

"Brynn…" Ryan's voice came out halfway between a whisper and a croak. "Brynn, leave me. Get out of here,
and don't come back."

"I will not! You are hurt. You need me to take care of you."

"Brynn, please," Ryan pleaded as she had never before, not even for her own life. "Please, if you love me, leave
now."

"No. I cannot leave you like this. You will die if…" Brynn wasn't sure what more to say, to do.

"And you will die if you stay. You don't know what I am. I will kill you. Please Brynn, I could not live with
that."

"You would never hurt me Ryan. I know that."

"You don't know… You don't know what I am, what I need."

"So tell me."

"I'm… I'm a monster." Brynn snorted. Ryan looked at her. "I am a vampire. I feed by drinking blood. Hot
blood. Think, when have you ever seen me eat or even drink? This is what I am, and right now, right now, I
need to feed. I look at you, and all I see is blood."

"If that were true, I would be dead already. You were hurt somehow, and now you need blood to be strong
again. Is that it, Ryan?"

"Yes. You don't know the hunger. Please go, before I lose control. If you love me, go."

"No. If that's what you need, then take it." Brynn moved closer to Ryan, laying her body next to the vampire on

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the bed. She took Ryan's hands and kissed them. "Take what you need, my love. I give it freely."

Ryan moaned, closing her eyes and fighting for control. Her intent was still to send Brynn away. She could not
risk feeding from her, not when her demon was so strong, so in need. But this close to Brynn, she could smell
her blood, not the blood in her veins but that in her womb. In a few short hours, Brynn would begin her
menses. The odor of blood was so overwhelming that Ryan felt all control slipping from her. Before the demon
was in complete control, Ryan bit Brynn's neck as gently as she could.

The first taste of Brynn's sweet blood was like ambrosia. It brought both power and healing. All of the pain
Ryan had been trying to ignore vanished in a breathless instant. She felt strength running back into each
muscle, each sinew. Beneath her, Brynn moaned softly with her own pleasure. Ryan heard her lover's voice,
and it was like a balm, calming the demon, filling her with bliss. She opened her eyes and saw the cooling
pattern of Brynn's blood. Immediately Ryan stopped her feeding. For the first time, it was not a struggle. She
held her lover against her, stroking her hair, whispering endearments. If vampires could cry, there would have
been tears in Ryan's eyes.

Slowly, Brynn became aware again. She turned her face up to Ryan and felt her lover's lips, gentle on her own.
Her need was urgent now. She arched up against Ryan, straining for her body to be in complete contact with
her lover's. Ryan sensed her need, and her hands were hard on Brynn's breasts. She had never been anything
but gentle with her lover, but now she squeezed hard enough to make Brynn cry out. They looked into each
other's eyes, and slowly Ryan undressed her lover. Brynn begged her to hurry, but Ryan kept her waiting while
her tongue traveled over Brynn's breasts, savoring the taste of her soft flesh as she never had before. Now her
hands were beneath Brynn's skirts, stroking her thighs. Ryan could feel them quivering at her touch. She
smiled and kissed each of Brynn's nipples, and then she ducked her head beneath the skirts.

Brynn lay back in surrender. Ryan's mouth was on her, her tongue stroking her clit, her lips sucking her
gently. This was the power Ryan had taught her. Her body arched as she came the first time, and Ryan dipped
lower to taste her sweet cum. It held just a taunt of blood, and Ryan groaned with pleasure as she began
darting her tongue in and out of her beloved. The smooth folds of Brynn's cunt caressed Ryan's tongue as she
dove deeper and deeper inside to drink more of the precious wine. Brynn's hands were tangled in Ryan's hair,
guiding her, urging her to go deeper and thrust faster and harder. Ryan was only too happy to comply. She
gave, as her lover had given, unstintingly, and was rewarded with a second gush of cum as Brynn crested
again. Ryan drank it all.

Sitting up and wiping her mouth, Ryan looked down at Brynn and smiled. She took the food Brynn had
prepared and put it next to the fire to keep it warm. Brynn would be hungry in the morning. Then Ryan curled
herself around her love and slept.

Carissa sighed. "You loved her, didn't you?"

"Yes, in those days, I still could love. I sent her away the next day, because I knew she could not afford to give
me more, not for some time, and I was still very hungry. I was lucky enough to find a bunch of very drunk
farm lads two nights later. There were six of them, all passed out from strong wine. It was hard, very hard not
to drink the first one dead, but I knew I could not face Brynn again if I did, so I took but a little from each. It
was enough since there were so many."

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"Brynn became as addicted to my feeding as she had to my love-making. They were wonderful years. We
would not see each other often: perhaps once or twice a month. Oh, I would come to the house to trade with her
husband for the dyes I collected, but that didn't really count. I did enjoy spending an evening at their table
watching their children playing, growing."

"When did you make Brynn?"

"It was not until some years later. All three of her children were married, and her husband died. She buried him
and then came to me. She told me she had done her duty to her family, and now she wanted only to be with
me. I tried to argue her out of it, but she wanted to be with me forever, she told me. In the end, I gave in. She
said good-bye to her family, telling them she was going to live with a dear friend of hers. Her children begged
her to stay, but her daughter-in-law was happy enough to see her go. She didn't like not being mistress of her
home. I made Brynn wait until spring, knowing how hard it is to hunt in the winter, and then she came to me,
like a bride to her wedding bed."

"I tried to be gentle with her, but in the end, I think I gave her more pain. I didn't drain her when I made her,
and at first, she did not change at all. She remained human for years, although she never seemed to age. I
thought I had made a mistake in making her, and I had. It was a good time, but then she became ill and
eventually died. She was perhaps fifty years old then, but she looked at least ten years younger. I must confess,
I did not want to let her go, so though I made her a coffin and wrapped her in a shroud, I did not bury her. It
was a good thing too, for she woke about a week after her death, consumed with hunger. I took her hunting,
but she had not your self-control. She killed and killed and killed again. I tried to find evil men for her to prey
on: would-be rapists, and murderers, and thieves. We moved closer to a big city to have better access to such
prey, but each death took a piece of her soul with it, and she could never forgive herself for those first innocent
deaths."

"Finally, she did learn some control, and with my help, she could stop from killing. But it took too many years,
too many deaths. I thought she had found peace, but it gnawed at her. We moved back to her town because
she wanted to see how her children and grandchildren were doing. We had visited only a few times, but now
we had to come back as strangers. Twenty-five years had passed, and they thought her long dead. By then, she
was a great-grandmother. One thing that did delight her was seeing her children and her children's children.
For some years, we were happy again. And then things became very bad indeed."

"The year 1286 brought droughts like the country had not seen in living memory. Not even in my memory,
and it was much longer. People began to go hungry, but they were clever folk, and they had some things put
by, so few actually starved that year. I would hunt game, although it was illegal, and Brynn's children did not
scruple to take a deer or a brace of hare from the son of their old trader connection."

"The next year was much worse. The ground was so hard, the plows would break like potsherds. The rains,
when they did come, were floodwaters. The ground was too hard to absorb the rain, so the fields stood like
stagnant ponds halfway through the summer. The trees began to rot in the orchards because the air could not
reach their roots. Now people did die of starvation. I kept Brynn's children as well supplied as I could, but game
was scarce too. That winter was the hardest we had ever faced, or so we thought."

"The next year broke with promise. The rains came, and they were not too heavy, not too frequent, and the
crops seemed to spring from the seeds half grown already. It would be a good year. Everyone rejoiced. Once
the crops came in, all would be well."

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Ryan sighed, looking into the fire for a long time. "They did not know how very weak they were from two
years of near starvation. When Brynn and I hunted, we had to be very careful, taking but a little from each
person. When people began to get sick, they fell in the fields and in the streets like they had been mowed down
with a scythe. Whole families fell sick in a single day, and three or four days later, they would all be dead. At
first, they tried to bury the dead, but in the end, they just burned the bodies with the houses, hoping the
contagion would be stopped that way." Ryan snorted ironically. "By the end of the summer, the crops stood tall
and healthy in the fields, but the people were too weak to harvest them. Half the town was dead or dying by
the end of that summer."

"Brynn's children fared better than most. They had been better fed and had more resistance, but they also had
more to do with traders, so the plague came to them as well. Brynn watched her children and her
grandchildren die one by one. She would go and nurse them each night, and they thought they were dead
already, seeing their mother as she had been thirty years before. All of them died but one of her great-
granddaughters. The villagers burned the house with them all together. They would have burned little Meg as
well, but I braved the flames to pull her out of the burning building. She was ill, but not dead, and we took her
back to my old cave to nurse her."

"The night Meg's fever broke and we knew she would live, Brynn asked me to promise that I would look after
her, that I would look after her and her children afterward. Of course, I agreed. I told her we both would. I
didn't know the depth of her despair. When I woke the next night, Brynn was gone. I searched for her and
found her clothing. All that was left of her was a pile of ash. I took this and mingled it with the ash of her
children, hoping they could be together once more."

"I kept Meg with me until the following spring when the memories of the plague were beginning to fade. Then I
took her to some kin of her father. They were good folk and happy to take her in, particularly when I gave
them a good portion of the money I had made in trade. I told them too that I would provide a good dowry
when she was old enough, and they took care of her as if she were one of their own. And all the years I watched
after her, as I had promised Brynn who had proved to be too weak to be the girl's guardian herself."

"Ryan, you can't blame Brynn. After all she suffered, you can't blame her for being weak!"

"I never said I did. Indeed, if she had not made me promise, I might have joined her in oblivion. But she had
come to blame me, Carissa. Our last year together was bitter, not just because of all the deaths of those she
loved, but because she blamed me for not being strong enough." Ryan looked Carissa in the eyes. "For not
being strong enough to deny her. It was then I vowed never to do to any I cared for what I had done to her. I
hope, my dear, you do not one day blame me also for not denying you."

"Why? Why did you make me?"

"Do you know that, next to diamonds, rubies are the strongest substance on this earth? They are stronger than
steel."

Ryan reached out and stroked the ruby that rested between Carissa's breasts. "You are like the ruby, my dear:
full of fire and passion, but stronger than any woman or man I have ever known. Now come, my dear, it is
almost dawn. We had best go to bed."

Carissa watched while Ryan put Brynn's portrait back on the mantel. This time, she left the covering leaves
open. The face that looked out at Carissa was almost her own, but the eyes were of a woman who had faced

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such pain that she had broken.

5

Meetings

Carissa had found almost a dozen dresses among her things that she had never ordered. She asked Ryan when
and how she had had them made, and Ryan had shrugged, saying that it was easy enough to estimate
Carissa's size and order the garments before Carissa ever left England. None of them were the kind of clothing
her mother would have approved of, Carissa thought with amusement. One dress was of such poor quality that
even the maids would not be allowed to wear such a dress. A couple of others were much like the streetwalker
dress that Carissa had worn to hunt in Hull. The dress that Ryan had asked her to wear that night was not as
revealing as the streetwalker outfits, but Carissa's mother would have called it tawdry. Like many of the other
dresses, it was red. It had a very tight-fitting bodice and feathers around the neckline, and the skirt was
designed so that the petticoats worn under it would peak out from the bottom. Carissa was surprised and
puzzled by the design, but when her maid suggested she wear black petticoats, Carissa admired the effect. She
chose a black lace shawl to wear with the dress, and her maid put her hair up with a comb that had red feathers
that matched the dress. All in all, it was a very pleasing effect, even if Carissa's mother would have had a fit if
she had seen her daughter wearing such an outfit. What her father might have said Carissa could only imagine
with a broad smile.

Carissa came down the steps with a saucy swing to her hips. She stopped on the landing and posed for Ryan
who was watching her with an appreciative smile. The black boots Carissa wore to complete the costume came
up to her calves, and when she swayed her hips, the skirt would dance, displaying a flash of her knees. Ryan
waited by the bottom step as Carissa came down toward her. She reached her hand out and slid it up Carissa's
skirt, caressing her bare thighs. Carissa gasped with surprise and pleasure. She stopped two steps above Ryan,
and Ryan slid her other hand under the skirt as well, reaching back and cupping Carissa's ass cheeks.

"You look good enough to eat, my dear," Ryan said with a soft rumble of laughter in her throat. "Perhaps we
should just stay home and entertain ourselves."

Ryan's mouth was exploring Carissa's exposed cleavage. She left a trail of soft, wet kisses across the tops of both
breasts, and now her tongue was darting into the deep cleft the two soft orbs had formed in the confines of the
bodice. Carissa gasped with the sudden arousal that laced her body with fire. In a moment, she would be lost,
so she pulled back from Ryan, pouting.

"But, my lord, you did promise to take me to a dance hall tonight." Carissa had learned over the years of being
Ryan's human lover that deferring pleasure could bring it to newer heights. She also knew that Ryan enjoyed
being teased as much as Carissa herself did. She purposely pulled up her skirts so that her bare thighs shone
whitely against the black petticoats. Ryan laughed and ran her hands over the exposed flesh. Then she held out
her hand to Carissa. Carissa dropped the skirts and came down the last two steps, tucking her arm into Ryan's.
Together, they passed out of the house to the waiting carriage.

The night was foggy and a bit chilly. The horse's hooves sounded hollow on the cobblestones. There were
sounds of music and laughter, but they seemed to be behind a veil that separated Ryan and Carissa from the
warmth of life. Carissa shivered, not from cold, but from the realization that she had cut herself off from that
warmth. Little by little, she was realizing just what she had asked of Ryan when she asked to become a

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vampire. There was no going back, and Carissa felt a stab of melancholy as she thought of the human relations
that would never be the same for her as she lived with the secret of what she was. Then the carriage stopped,
and Ryan was helping her out. Down the street, the bright lights of the dance hall were encompassed by halos,
and the sound of laughter and music reached out to tug at Carissa. She shook off her dark mood, remembering
that in her old life she never could have come to such a place. If she was cut off from much of the world, so, too,
much of the world was just now opening to her. It was a bargain she could live with.

The air of the dance hall was laden with smoke, light, and sound. The crowd was liberally sprinkled with men
dressed in fine clothes: toffs spending an evening slumming. A young gentleman could take his pleasure where
he wanted, but a lady's reputation would be destroyed if she so much as set foot in such a place. Carissa looked
around with interest, grinning at the crowd but holding tight to Ryan's arm. They were seated at a table not far
from the stage, and Ryan ordered a bottle of claret. Most of the men were drinking champagne, but Ryan's
pallet tended toward the red wines. Carissa had always found Ryan's taste in wine excellent, but since her
change, her tastes were very different. The taste and smell of food had no appeal for her, yet the smoky taste of
red wine lingered on her tongue, eliciting the memory of the hunt. Out of curiosity, she asked Ryan to order her
some champagne. It had been a favorite before her change, but now it seemed rather flat.

For a while, Carissa gave her full attention to the performers on the stage. There was one woman with a voice
that was like liquid smoke: deep and husky, running along her nerves and touching Carissa's core. Carissa was
surprised to realize that she was very attracted to the singer. Her attraction to Ryan had been there from the
instant they met, but Carissa had never felt the slightest interest in any of the young women she knew. Mostly,
she thought them silly, and the two whom she counted as friends held no attraction for her. The singer was
dressed in tails, and Carissa considered the possibility that she liked women who were in some way manly, but
the singer was very feminine in spite, or maybe even because, of her masculine dress. Her dark hair spilled in
curls over her shoulders, and her lips were a lovely shade of red. Carissa half closed her eyes as she listened to
her, imagining what it would be like to kiss those lips, to run her tongue down the throat that produced such
lovely music, biting her so very gently and feeling her blood fill her mouth.

"She would make a lovely victim, would she not?" Ryan whispered in Carissa's ear.

Carissa looked down, embarrassed beyond words, Ryan's soft laugh only making her feel worse.

"Tell me what you were imagining," Ryan commanded.

Carissa looked at her defiantly. "I was imagining touching her, making love to her, and then taking her."

"You have good taste, my dove."

"Then you are not angry?" Carissa asked.

"Why should I be angry?"

"Because she is the first woman I have desired other than you. I don't just want her as a victim, Ryan. I want to
make love to her."

"Then, if you will take my advice, wait a while. Cultivate her, perhaps as a friend or even a lover, but do not
take her yet, not until you have perfected your skills and learned better how to survive in this world. The
anticipation will make things much sweeter in the end, when you tame her to your appetites."

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"As you tamed me?"

Ryan laughed again. "I have never tamed you, my dear, and I hope I never do. You belong to me in many
ways, yet you are always unassailably yourself. Never let anyone take that from you, Carissa. Never let anyone
impose what they think you should be."

Carissa looked at Ryan with a new kind of appreciation. "Don't you want her, my lord?"

"Yes, but I think she would be good for you. Besides, it was not my cleavage she has been looking at the whole
time she has been performing."

"Oh," Carissa said surprised and embarrassed. Then she smiled with pleasure and looked at Ryan. "How can I
meet her?"

Ryan laughed, pleased with her boldness. She signaled the waiter over, and after exchanging a few soft words
with him, she slipped him a note and some money. Carissa heard the waiter say he could not guarantee that
Reesha would join them, but Ryan just nodded. Carissa's attention had already drifted back to the singer. This
time, she let her eyes travel over the woman's whole body, lingering on her crotch and breasts. When she
looked up farther, she caught Reesha's eyes, and there was a moment of understanding between them.

Carissa swallowed and nodded. The words "I want you" were written between them.

The set changed, and the music became more lively as a group of dancers came out to perform. The girls
swung their skirts and showed off their legs. Ryan watched them appreciatively, and Carissa knew that one or
the other would succumb to Ryan's charms at some time. She asked herself if she was jealous, or if she was
disappointed that Ryan was not jealous of her, but her emotions were completely caught up in a different kind
of hunt, one that might take months to consummate. She shrugged the questions off to deal with later and let
her gaze drift to the rest of the audience.

Most of the women in the place were working girls, as Ryan had taught her to call them. Some were draped
over the toffs in their fancy clothing, drinking champagne and letting the men run their hands over them in a
proprietary way. They were laughing and joking with the men, but Carissa remembered her performances as a
streetwalker, and she wondered how much the young women actually enjoyed all this. Was the laughter real?
Or the result of drink and false gaiety? What would happen to the women when they lost their youth and could
no longer hold the interest of men such as these? They were like the cherry blossoms of the spring: they
bloomed with exuberance and then faded on the wind.

"May I join you?" Reesha's speaking voice was as husky as her singing voice had been. Ryan rose and bowed
over her hand, pulling out a chair to seat her. The singer's eyes traveled over Ryan and then opened wide with
surprise when she realized that Ryan was a woman. Ryan wondered if Reesha's dark coloring indicated gypsy
blood. Few could see past Ryan's male clothing to see the woman within unless she willed them to. Ryan
reflected that Carissa would have to go slowly with this woman, lest she see more in her then either of them
wished.

"It was good of you to join us, Reesha. May I order anything for you?"

The singer smiled. "If you please, I would like some cider. I still have another set to perform."

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Ryan half bowed again and ordered the drink for her. Carissa had been watching the interchange with interest.
Up close, she could see that Reesha was older than she had thought, perhaps in her late thirties. Yet that did not
diminish her beauty in any way. Her skin was still flawless, and the bones sculpted her face into a mask of
softly curving shadows. Evaluated objectively, she was not pretty. Her nose was too strong for a woman's, her
lips too full for fashion, but such life sparkled from her eyes. Carissa looked into them and was captivated. She
knew this woman was older than she, yet she felt so protective toward her.

"This is Carissa," she heard Ryan say as if from a distance, and Reesha's voice brought her back to the world.

"A pleasure to meet you, Carissa. I have not seen either of you here before," Reesha said, keeping the
conversation general.

"We just came from England. I have been away for some years, but when I took Carissa as my bride, I decided
it was time to return to my home."

Reesha's eyebrows rose a bit at this statement, but she made no comment other than to say, "Then it should be
Lady Wolf."

"Yes," Ryan confirmed, "but perhaps not here. We haven't yet decided how much, if at all, we want to deal with
society here."

Ryan did not have to explain more. Carissa would find herself a social outcast if the women of her class knew
she was frequenting dance halls. Lord Wolf was seen as a man by most people, a very important man. News
had spread that Lord Wolf had returned and had brought a new wife with him, and some invitations had
already arrived. Carissa was not sure how to handle them. She did want to have at least some entrance to local
society because she needed to know about those who held power in the region, but she could hardly go to tea or
invite the women over for luncheon. Ryan said they would make their own rules, as she always had, but
Carissa was too well trained in the expectations of her class to be so easy with the situation. Now she listened as
Ryan asked Reesha about her background and complimented her on both her voice and repertoire.

It was only when Ryan excused herself for a moment that Carissa spoke directly to Reesha.

"Your lord is very unusual to bring you here," Reesha commented.

"My lord is very unusual in a multitude of ways." Carissa's smile was all for the singer. Her eyes danced over
the other woman's form, and Reesha could read the attraction with practiced ease.

"I would like a chance to get to know you," Carissa ventured boldly.

"And your lord, she would welcome that as well?"

Carissa smiled. "I don't know if welcome is the right word, but she certainly raises no objection."

"Very unusual indeed. Are you sure that you wish to risk such a unique relationship for someone such as I?"

Carissa took Reesha's hand. She very much wanted to kiss it, but even here that would not be acceptable.
Instead she stroked the singer's strong fingers. "You are worth more than a little risk, Reesha, but there is none
where my lord is concerned. Would you… Do you ever have an evening off?"

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Reesha smiled. She looked at the young woman who had so attracted her. She had taken her for a very high-
class working girl, dressed the way she was. She had had lovers of that sort before. That this woman was a lady
intrigued her yet in some ways frightened her. She knew that a few society women, in desperation, sought
lovers of her kind, but she had assiduously avoided them, knowing that they would consider her as a person no
more than the men considered the girls draped over them in the dance hall. Long ago she had risen past the
point where she had to sell herself, and she vowed she would never do so again in any way. If Carissa were one
of the usual ladies who sometimes looked for release with another woman, Reesha would not have considered
her, but she was as unique as her lord was. First and foremost, she did not have to seek a woman of Reesha's
class to satisfy her needs; her lord was a woman. But equally important, there was no condescension in Carissa.
She treated Reesha with open admiration.

"The hall is closed on Sundays," Reesha finally answered.

"Then perhaps we could have supper somewhere together?"

"I would enjoy that." They made arrangements to meet, and then Reesha left to prepare for her next set.

Ryan slipped back into her seat, giving Carissa a knowing look. She smiled and moved closer to Carissa,
draping an arm over her back. Ryan's other hand slid up her leg, reaching under her skirt and sliding her
fingers between her thighs. As Reesha sang, Ryan teased her, smiling at the wetness that spread from her lover.
She never touched the most intimate spot, but she knew that Carissa had to struggle to keep quiet while arousal
filled her like a lion ready to pounce.

They left after Reesha's last set. The hall was still filled with light and music, but Carissa had other things on her
mind now. Carissa leaned against Ryan as they strolled down the street, but Ryan pulled away.

"I need to hunt," Ryan said simply.

"Damn you, Ryan, you know what you have done to me tonight." Carissa cursed.

Ryan laughed. "Patience, my dove. You need to learn that all things will come in their time."

Carissa snarled and swung her string purse at Ryan. Ryan laughed louder and pulled Carissa into an alley
kissing her roughly until Carissa's knees were weak and her breath ragged. Carissa's nails scored Ryan's back,
and if Ryan had not been wearing a good coat, they would have flailed Ryan's flesh.

"Tamed you, have I?" Ryan laughed. "Just a little while, my dove, and then I will give you what you want. Do
you want to come with me? Or wait with the coach?"

Carissa drew some deep breaths. "I'll wait with the coach. If I see your blood, I'm not sure I could keep my
hands from you."

Ryan's laugh echoed off the stones, and she slapped Carissa's buttocks as she darted past her and made her
way to where the coach was waiting parked outside a pub.

Ryan disappeared into the shadows, but Carissa had yet to learn how to become one with the night. She was
lost in thought as she made her way to where the carriage was parked. Her senses were aflame with Ryan's
teasing and the subtle passion that this new hunt had kindled. Carissa wondered what it would be like to make

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love to Ryan and Reesha in the same bed. She was not even embarrassed at the thought that just a few months
ago would have scalded her red and left her wondering about her depravity. Her chuckle at the thought was
low and sensuous.

Carissa just smiled at the first man who stopped and propositioned her. She shook her head and walked on. The
second man made the mistake of putting his hands on her, and she grasped his elbow as Ryan had shown her,
pinching the nerve and leaving him gasping behind her. The third man was something else altogether. He
appeared out of the darkness, and in a flash, he had lifted Carissa and had her pinned against the wall in an
alley. Carissa felt more annoyed than fearful until she looked into his eyes.

"Well, little girl, what are you doing walking alone at night here?"

"Much the same as you are," Carissa answered boldly. She focused her sight until she was completely aware as
when she hunted.

"Naughty, naughty," the vampire scolded. "Don't you know it is bad manners to hunt in someone else's
territory?"

"I was not aware," Carissa answered in her most haughty tone, "that this was your territory."

"You are a babe. All of Edinburgh is the territory of Queen Alyssa. Before you can hunt here, you must give her
your obeisance and your oath."

"Cramond is not part of Edinburgh. It seems to me that you are the one who is hunting in the wrong territory."

The vampire snarled and slammed Carissa against the wall with his full strength. She swallowed the yelp of
pain.

"It seems like the little tart needs to be taught some lessons before she has the manners to go before the queen."
He crushed Carissa's breast with one hand while he pinned her with his other arm and knee. Her first reaction
was to struggle. Fear tasted like copper in the back of her throat as the scent of old blood did on the air.

"You can be unmade as easily as you were made, slut. Unless you learn to bend your head to your betters." He
pulled Carissa's hair, forcing her neck back. "This is the proper way to greet your betters, slut. This is the proper
way to show respect."

It took all of Carissa's will not to struggle. She remembered Ryan's lessons: strength was a matter of will. She
did not have the man's physical strength, but she knew she was stronger than him. A bully was always the
weaker. She stood completely still while he tore the laces fastening the bodice of her dress and mauled her
breasts. There was no reaction at all when he brought his knee up between her legs. She could feel the
confidence leaving his movements, and when he looked up at her face, she captured his gaze with her own.

His hands fell to his sides as if he had no control over them. She held him, like a snake would hold a hare with
its gaze. In that moment, she became hunter and he prey. He fell back, one step and then two, until he was
pressed up against the far wall of the alley. "Now what?" Carissa thought to herself. She took a deep breath and
moved forward one step, until he was trying to press himself into the stones behind him.

"As I said, it is you who have no manners. If this is the kind of messenger this queen has to send, I cannot think

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very well of her."

"You… you can't talk of Queen Alyssa that way."

Carissa could hear the whine in his voice. She continued to hold his eyes until he fell to his knees, but she did
not know how to get out of the situation. She sensed that, even if he were cowed now, the minute she turned her
back, he would pounce on her. He would not give her a second chance to work her will on him. Could she send
him away? Could she just order him to go? And where was Ryan anyway, when she needed her?

As if the thought conjured the woman, Ryan stepped from the shadows. Her lips were curved in a sardonic
smile.

"Ahhh, I see you have learned your place, Martin." Ryan stepped around the kneeling form until she stood
shoulder to shoulder with Carissa, but she made no move to touch her or disturb her concentration. "But you
are a bit out of your territory, aren't you?"

Martin's tongue darted between his lips as if he needed to wet them. "We… we didn't know you were back,
sire."

Ryan slapped the man hard enough to bring him around and slam his face into the brick wall.

"I am no sire of yours. As if I would ever claim such a piece of scum," Ryan said as an aside to Carissa.

"I… I meant no disrespect, si… my lord. You know that is a term of honor among our kind," Martin added
bitterly as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Disrespect? And was this respectful, what you did to my lady?" Ryan's voice was very soft and very
dangerous. Martin actually blanched when he realized just whom he had made into an enemy.

"My… my lord, I did not know she was yours. She did not say anything." Martin looked at Carissa half
pleading and half full of hate, but though she had relaxed when Ryan appeared, her will still shrouded her like
a suit of armor.

"And did you even give her a chance to say anything? Did you give her your name? Did you even issue the
challenge of right?"

"I…"

"He took me for a helpless whore and treated me like one."

"You are dressed like one!" Martin exclaimed.

Ryan's second blow sent Martin sprawling into the refuse that slimed the ally. "And being a worm yourself, you
must treat every woman like an insect? Look at me, Martin." Ryan waited until Martin had risen to his knees
again. "If I ever hear of you misusing a woman, I will cut off those shriveled nuts you use for balls and leave
them to burn in the noon sun. As for my lady," Ryan added with special emphasis, "you saw that she was
newly of our kind, and rather then explain yourself to her, you assumed that you could take from her what you
wanted. You assumed she was weak and even a bully like you could use her. You will not make that mistake
again, will you?" It was more command than question.

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"No… no, my lord."

"Apologize."

"I… I am sorry, my lady. I'm sorry I treated you so rudely." There was real fear in Martin's eyes now, and
Carissa found herself enjoying it.

"Come, my dear, it is time we went home," Ryan said, offering her arm to Carissa.

"M… my lord. There is still…"

"Yes, Martin?"

"The queen. She… your lady, she will still have to make her obeisance to Queen Alyssa."

Ryan looked at Martin until he cowered back against the wall. "My lady offers no one her obeisance. She is of
my lineage and clan and answers only to me. Is that clear, Martin?"

The vampire's eyes flew open with surprise. "Yes… yes, my lord, but what shall I tell the queen?"

Ryan thought a moment. It was very important to establish her protection around Carissa. "Tell Queen Alyssa
that I have brought to live with me my lady wife, Carissa, who is of my clan and sept and who shares in my
rights. Tell her also that she can expect an invitation from me so that she may meet my wife." Ryan turned
away without another glance and led Carissa to the carriage. By now the coachman was waiting with the
horses outside the pub. Carissa had wrapped her shawl around the ruins of her dress, but the man could still see
some of the damage.

"Is something wrong, m'lord?"

"No, all is well now," Ryan answered.

"I… yes, m'lord." The man held the door open while Ryan helped Carissa in. Carissa felt all of the energy drain
out of her, and she leaned against Ryan's chest. She felt a bit like crying, more from tension than anything else.

"Are you all right, my dove?" Ryan asked as she stroked Carissa's hair.

"Yes, but I was so frightened, Ryan."

"I was so very proud of you. You dealt with him magnificently."

Carissa smiled ruefully and touched her ruined dress. "I remembered what you had said about strength. I knew
I could not fight him physically, so I waited till I could catch his will."

"Exactly. Not many women, not many people or vampires for that matter, could control themselves as you did
and use the proper weapon at the proper time." Ryan tilted Carissa's head back and kissed her gently. "You are
wonderful, my dear, and I am so very proud of you."

Carissa sighed and leaned farther into Ryan's arms. "When did you get there?"

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"I sensed you were in trouble, so I ran as fast as I could, but he was already on his knees when I got there. You
really didn't need me, my love, but I couldn't let what he had done pass."

"I did need you. For the life of me, I didn't know what to do with him once I had caught him."

Ryan laughed deeply, and it was her laughter that reassured Carissa the most. "I hope you know, my dove, if I
had been there when he first touched you, there would not be enough left of Martin to send back to his precious
queen. But since he had already been beaten, I couldn't very well pound him into splinters the way I wanted
to."

"More of your vampire nonethics?" Carissa asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, I would have taken your victory away from you if I had interfered then."

"You always surprise me, Ryan, first with Reesha, and now with this. I think I am very lucky to be yours."
Carissa reached up and caressed Ryan's cheek. Ryan caught her hand and kissed her fingers, but Carissa pulled
away after a moment.

"Ryan, who is this queen, and why would I be expected to give her homage?"

"Most large cities have a relatively large population of vampires. Much prey is available in a city, and it attracts
us. Over the years, a kind of tradition has evolved to limit the kind of infighting over territories that had almost
destroyed vampires during the Middle Ages. A particularly strong vampire becomes leader, supposedly by
acclaim, but more by backstabbing and politics and, sometimes, outright murder. As long as this individual is
strong, he or she can command the respect and obedience of all who live within his or her sphere. When new
vampires are made or come into the territory, they are presented to the queen, and she decides whether they
may stay. They are required to show submission to her power and to swear some silly oaths."

"I take it that you don't abide by those rules."

Ryan smiled, showing her teeth. "I make my own rules. The queen is usually the oldest vampire, and she counts
on the loyalty of those she has sired to support her power. I'm a good four hundred years older than Alyssa,
and she knows that if I choose to challenge her, she could not win."

"Would you be able to gather the support you needed to supplant her? You don't exactly have a legion of,
ummm, vampire children."

"I didn't say I could be king, and I certainly would not want to be. But by her own rules, Alyssa would have to
accept a challenge from me, and she knows I could destroy her. When she became queen about thirty years
ago, I made a pact with her. I would not interfere with her or her minions in Edinburgh, and she would not
interfere with my people or me. They were off limits. She thought it rather touching that I should care for
mortals, but she agreed. She had no choice. You will have to meet her, my dear, and you will have to convince
her that she has to extend the same pact to you."

"She won't do it just because I belong to you?"

"Yes and no. She will say the right words, but she will try to use you against me. Vampires tend to be very
paranoid. She is convinced that someday I will challenge her power, and she will use any weakness to destroy

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me. You need to convince her that you are not such a weakness."

"How? I am sure the trick I used with Martin won't work with someone strong enough to be queen."

"Again, the answer is yes and no. You could not control her the way you did Martin, but you can show her how
strong your will is. She will expect you to be one of these fawning sycophants she is fond of making: someone
who takes her identity from my power. When she realizes that you have your own strength, your own power,
she will know she can't get to me that way."

"But she could still destroy me, or send some of her followers to do so."

"Yes, but what do you think I would do if she did? Walk into some trap in my rage? She knows me better then
that, Carissa. She knows what touching you would cost her. Or she will, very shortly."

"Ryan, when you told Martin that I was of your clan, your sept, what did that mean?"

"Vampires trace their clans by who made them, and who made their own sire. Martin was made by one of
Alyssa's children, as you call them, which makes him, regrettably, of her clan. But he is not of her sept because
she did not make him herself, nor did her direct sire make him. For you to be of my sept, you have to be made
either by me, or by the vampire who made me."

Carissa nodded her understanding. "Then there are vampires who you are related to because they were made
by the man who made you, and in some sense, I am related to them as well."

"Yes, but such a relationship does not convey the same bonds that a human blood relationship does. There may
or may not be loyalty between members of a clan, depending on how strong-willed the clan sire is and how
much control he or she can exert."

Carissa sensed that Ryan would tell her no more of the man who made her, not then. Ryan had promised to tell
her the whole story, but Carissa knew she was not ready yet. Opening her past to Carissa was like opening a
long-festering wound: it needed to be lanced, but only so much pain could be faced at once. And the wound of
her making was the very deepest, and thus the most painful. Suddenly, Carissa did not want to hear any more
of power and vampires. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep, and perhaps dream of a smoky-voiced woman
with eyes like soft velvet.

Ryan sensed that Carissa's amorous mood had been completely quenched by Martin, another fault for which
Ryan would enjoy making him pay. Ryan had to deal with Alyssa first. In some perverted sense, Martin
belonged to her, and if Ryan destroyed him now, Alyssa would be obligated to start a war that Ryan had no
interest in fighting. But the man had violated so many of Alyssa's own rules that she would give him up if Ryan
asked nicely. And Ryan could wait. Indeed, revenge, like sex, was so much better after a period of anticipation.
Let Martin sweat for a while. Vampires had very long memories and lives long enough to exact payment for
most debts.

6

Betrayal

"Was Meg your second lover?" Carissa asked.

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The weather had turned ugly that day, and Carissa was happy to spend a night inside by the fire. Ryan
reached up and took down the second painting on the mantel. She opened it almost reluctantly and handed it
to Carissa.

"No, Meg was, and would always be, the sweet child who Brynn and I cared for. I never could have touched
her that way. Glyn was Meg's daughter."

"The relatives I left Meg with were farmers. They had a good piece of land and were as prosperous as they could
be. The money I gave them didn't hurt, of course, but they were good folk. They had lost two of their five
children to the plague, one of them barely two years old. Meg was four when I brought her to them, and I
could see that she took the place of their lost baby in their hearts."

"I would visit at least once a season, and they did not know it, but I kept a closer watch on them than even that.
I still played the merchant, but now I began to trade in other things. Over the years, I had accumulated a small
hoard of jewelry from my victims. I never really wanted it. I just kept it hidden away in my cave, but now I
began selling it. I would pry the stones out and melt the metal down, and then I brought it to gold and
silversmiths and sold the gems and metals. With the money I got, I would buy more, traveling from the town
where Meg lived to the coast and all the towns in between."

"At first, it was very difficult. I had to travel by night, and I could hardly stop at an inn for the day because they
would be suspicious of someone who spent the day locked in a room. I had to contrive shelters in between the
towns I traded in, so my first years were spent finding caves or abandoned huts and making them hidden
shelters. I also had difficulty finding horses that would tolerate me. Most animals shun vampires; in that they
are much wiser than humans. I found if I took a very young colt and raised it myself, it would grow
accustomed to me and let me ride it, but that took many years to discover, so mostly I traveled by foot.

"I will admit to you that those first years I was a thief, albeit a very clever one. A gem merchant's most prized
possession was his reputation. No one would buy from me if they thought I could not be trusted. Oh, even back
then, it was easy to fence stolen goods, but I wanted to deal with the goldsmiths themselves, and they were a
cautious group as a whole. They had to be. So I would steal and then leave my stolen goods hidden, sometimes
for years. Mostly, I stole from the church, for which I had a natural enough antipathy."

"I thought vampires could not enter hallowed ground and that they could not abide the sight of the cross,"
Carissa interjected.

"As with many myths, there is both truth and falsity to that. It is not the cross or the hallowed ground but the
strength of faith that can repel a vampire. Remember that strength is based on will, and often those with strong
beliefs are either strong willed themselves or fanatical in their beliefs. If someone believes that some symbol of
faith will protect her, then that very belief will undermine a vampire's power. As you saw with Martin, many
vampires are cowards at heart or lazy, and they would rather find easy prey than try to overcome someone
who is strong-willed."

"As for churches, some of them do hold great power. The generations of worshipers, sometimes they seem to
imbue the very stones with the power of their fear and hatred."

"Hatred?"

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"What emotions did you think the church tries to instill? Christian love and kindness?" Ryan asked with some
amusement. "Over the centuries, the message preached has been much more one of hatred and condemnation
than of forgiveness. The church ruled through superstition and fear for a very long time. It still does in some
ways. I have been to a few shrines and chapels that indeed have been filled with a kind of loving-kindness, but
the large cathedrals were always ruled by politicians within the church. Some were good, but many were not,
and not one of them would have had anything but condemnation in their heart for something like me, or you
now, my dear."

"Again, a vampire who does not have a strong will could not face the accumulated devotion of all those
centuries of worshipers. There are some churches I could not enter myself. But in those days, the churches were
much younger, and I could slip in and rob the gold cross from the altar. It was a crime most thieves were too
superstitious to attempt, but it gave me a certain satisfaction." Ryan looked at Carissa. "Does it trouble you, my
dear? That I once robbed churches?"

"I grew up accepting that the church was a force for good, Ryan, so, yes, I suppose it does trouble me."

"Was it a force for good when it condemned all those women to burn at the stake for witchcraft? Most of them
would have no more idea how to cast a spell than you. Some were simple-minded, and their only sin was not
being just like their neighbors. And what of the Inquisition? Was the church a force for good when it tortured
and burned men and women for daring to disagree with them? Do you know what the church did with women
like us, Carissa? Or men who loved other men? They threw them on the fires of the heretics. They used them as
kindling to burn those greater sinners. Even if we were not vampires, Carissa, how do you think the church
would treat us even now?"

Carissa sighed. "Ryan, I still believe in a just God, a God of mercy and charity. True the church is sometimes
run by men who are not perfect, but for me, it is still a symbol of God."

"Then your just and merciful God should take care to ensure that the men who maintain the symbol are just
and merciful themselves." Ryan sighed and looked into the fire. "Well, I haven't needed to be a thief in
centuries. In those days, I chose the church to steal from because I did not feel I would be taking some person's
livelihood or treasured heirloom." Ryan shrugged and continued her story.

"By the time Meg was old enough to marry, I was wealthy by the standards of that day. I could provide a very
handsome dowry for her. Since she had come from the merchant class, her adoptive family looked for a
husband for her among that class. They found a young goldsmith who was more then happy to ally himself
with a gem merchant of my reputation, and Meg and he were married in the spring of 1303. I truly did try to
make sure Meg was happy with the man. He was very skilled in his craft, but he did have too much of a liking
for drink. One very dark night when he was coming home rather drunk, I put the fear, well, certainly not of
God in him. He never touched a drop after that. I think they were happy."

"Meg was pregnant and everything seemed well between Meg and her husband, and I felt I had discharged my
promise to Brynn credibly. I wanted to see the wider world, Carissa. Trading with the sea captains that plied the
trade to Europe had given me a taste for seeing the world. I still had to be very careful how I traveled. It would
be another almost another century before I was able to cross the channel to the continent, but I built myself a
caravan, a covered wagon and hired two servants, and in that I could travel safely enough, sleeping the day
away while my servants drove, and spending the nights exploring as I would."

"It was eighteen years before I returned to see how Meg had fared. I had forgotten how quickly time passed for

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mortals and was surprised to see her as a matron of middle years. But the real surprise was Glyn. She was so
very beautiful, and her eyes were the same as Brynn's. I swear to you that I never intended to take her as a
lover. That first day that we met, I did not even know who she was, but it seemed as if fate had put us together."

It had been an overcast day without any real showers. As day began to fade to evening, Ryan signaled her
servants to make camp. She was hungry that afternoon, and over the years she had begun to gain some
immunity to the sun. She could emerge into the half-light and feel no ill effects. Ryan looked around her with
happy recognition. She knew the landmarks well, and very soon she would be home, if she could be said to
have a home at all. Nodding pleasantly to her servants, Ryan began strolling through the woods, breathing
deeply of the familiar scents. She had enjoyed visiting the great cities of Winchester, Edinburgh, and London,
but the great crowds of people who lived there produced some of the most noisome of smells. It was good to be
able to breathe in the night air and have it tainted only by a faint thread of wood smoke.

Ryan heard the shouts long before she caught sight of the young people, and she slipped off the path to become
one with the shadows. There were five of them: two girls and three boys. The boys were chasing the two girls
calling for them to stop. Ryan waited for the girls to run past her, and then she stepped from the road right into
the path of one of the pursuers. She knew this was some game that they were playing, and she had decided to
play along. There were so many entertaining ways to hunt.

The boy plowed into her and fell back as if he had run headlong into a wall. Ryan barely staggered at the
impact, and in a moment, she had drawn her sword and was menacing the other two boys. They turned tail
and ran back the way they had come. The boy who had fallen was soon on his feet, and Ryan chased him just
far enough to give him an encouraging smack on his backside with the flat of her blade. It was all she could do
to contain her laughter, but she had to appear serious to the two young women. She turned to see them
peeking out from behind a tree.

Instantly, Ryan was all solicitude. She sheathed her sword and bowed toward the two half-concealed maidens.

"Are you young ladies well? The scamps didn't hurt you, did they?"

She heard giggles from the bushes, and then one of the girls appeared on the path as if she had been propelled
from her hiding place, which she probably had.

"We are fine, sir," the girl tried to say in a serious voice. She reached behind and grabbed the hand of her
companion, dragging her out. "Really, sir, they meant us no harm. They were just chasing us because Kylie
stole Todd's hat."

Kylie appeared clutching a rather crushed bit of velvet that could have been anything from a bag to a cushion.
She was a pretty girl, all blonde curls and Cupid's bow lips, but it was the other girl's dark beauty that held
Ryan's appreciative gaze.

"Ahh," Ryan laughed, "and what will you do with your prize now that you have it, Mistress Kylie?"

"Ummmm, give it back?"

Ryan smiled and bowed again. "My name is Ryan Wolf, and I am a sometime merchant on my way to
Corbridge. If you young ladies are going in that direction, perhaps you will allow me to accompany you."

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"It would be our honor, after such a timely rescue, good sir," the brunette answered, curtsying prettily. "My
name is Glyn."

Ryan offered each girl an arm and began leading them the way they had come. It was twilight now, and Ryan
seemed to draw power both from the darkness and from the two vibrant young women. When she led them off
the road, they were unaware of the change in their course. They hung on Ryan's words, exclaiming over her
adventures. It was even darker under the trees, and the girls stumbled occasionally over a rock or root. Once,
after a stumble, Glyn seemed to remember herself and say something about her parents being worried, but
Ryan soon allayed her concerns, and she walked along as if in a trance.

Ryan led them into a small clearing and seated them both with their backs against a fallen tree. It had been a
long time since she had fed, and here were two lovely morsels indeed. Ryan gently bit Kylie's neck, drinking
deeply of her sweet blood. Then she let her slip into sleep. She would wake with no real memory of what
happened and a very pleasant dream about a dark stranger. Now Ryan turned her attention to Glyn.

"What did you do to her?" Glyn asked in a dreamy voice.

Ryan reached out and brushed Glyn's hair back from her cheek. The touch of her flesh sent a different kind of
hunger through the vampire. "Nothing that will harm her." Ryan answered holding Glyn's gaze and letting her
see past the illusion of her male clothing.

"Why do you dress like a man?"

Ryan smiled. "It is not possible for a woman to travel as I do, so it is better if people think me a man. But you
are glad I'm not a man, aren't you?"

Ryan leaned forward and kissed Glyn lightly. She felt the girl open her mouth to her, and she slipped her
tongue inside, savoring the complex textures as she probed deep inside. Now Glyn was in her arms, pressed
tight against Ryan's chest. Her breathing was ragged, and Ryan's sensitive nose could smell her arousal.

"Aren't you?" Ryan repeated in a rough voice.

"Yessss…" Glyn placed her hands on Ryan's chest, caressing her nipples lightly through the heavy fabric of
Ryan's tunic.

Ryan laughed, realizing that Glyn had played this game before with a woman. This was no innocent she had in
her arms, and she very much enjoyed the girl's boldness. Ryan allowed Glyn to touch her, feeling her own
arousal growing, the heat of it like a very fine wine. Then, she grasped Glyn's wrists and pushed her down on
the soft ground, pinning them over her head. The girl moaned, struggling more for the pleasure of it than from
any desire to break free.

Ryan kissed Glyn's face and down her neck until she found the pulse point in the hollow of her throat. Her
tongue licked delicately, but she did not bite this wanton's neck. Not until the girl surrendered would she take
her. Ryan moved her grip so she held Glyn's wrists in one strong hand, and then she began undoing the laces of
Glyn's blouse. The girl continued to struggle, but she did not call out. As the chase had been, this was a game,
and Ryan laughed when Glyn pressed her crotch against Ryan's knee.

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Glyn's breasts showed whitely in the moonlight. The nipples cast shadows as they stood erect in the center of
darker-fleshed areolas. Ryan bent her head to kiss first one and then the other nipple. She heard Glyn gasp as
Ryan took one firmly in her mouth and sucked.

Glyn's body arched as a surge of pleasure went through her. She lay back, feeling the electric sensations run
from her nipples to her clit as Ryan sucked gently and then roughly at her nipples. The little love bites that
Ryan took were driving her crazy. The maid she sometimes touched had never elicited these kinds of feelings.

Ryan sat back on her heels, looking at the lovely woman beneath her. She released Glyn's wrists and began
easing her skirts down Glyn's hips. Glyn lifted her hips to help. Within a few moments, the girl lay naked in the
moonlight, and Ryan knelt enjoying the view of her. The moonlight seemed to have a weight of its own on
Glyn's flesh. Its silver light molded her into an exquisite sculpture of light and shadow. The deep valley between
her thighs was shrouded with darkness, and only the wiry curls caught a touch of light that turned them to
strands of silver. Her belly was a softly rising hill with a deep pool of blackness in her center. As Ryan bent to
drink from that pool, Glyn suddenly twisted away. In a moment, she was on her feet and running through the
forest like young doe scenting the wolf.

Ryan sprang after her with an exclamation of surprise. She could not have misread the signs, she thought. Yet
her prey had flown. Glyn was very swift on her feet. She ran through the trees, and Ryan could see her white
form slipping between the boles. The fire of the hunt began to burn through Ryan, obscuring all of her other
thoughts. In all the world, there was only the hunter and her prey. Ryan ran, letting the scent of blood and sex
fill her completely. She growled low in her throat, not in rage or frustration, but in appreciation. It was as if
Glyn's blood were pounding through her veins; as if Glyn's heart was beating the rhythm of Ryan's steps.

Ryan crashed through the trees to find Glyn at bay. Behind her rose a steep ridge, and Glyn was pressed back
against the raw earth. Glyn's chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, and she watched Ryan approach with neither
fear nor resignation in her eyes. Ryan could feel the heat of her even several paces away. She could see Glyn's
blood swirling with red-gold light, making her glow from within like the colored glass of a cathedral window.
The hunter approached warily, not trusting the prey not to bolt again. Ryan circled half to the left, forcing Glyn
back into a cleft in the ridge. She stalked forward, wearing her true nature like a cloak. She was within reach of
her prey when Glyn sprang to the right, trying to dart past the hunter, but Ryan caught her in her strong arms
and crushed her against her body.

There was no gentleness left in Ryan now. She threw Glyn down on the raw earth and was on top of her,
pinning her to the ground. The two women writhed against each other, both of them completely intoxicated
with arousal. They rutted like animals on the raw earth. Glyn wrapped her legs around Ryan's thigh hungry
for the pressure that would ease the ache in her cunt. She reached up to cup Ryan's breast, but Ryan growled
and captured her wrists, pinning them above the girl's head with one strong hand. Then she lowered her breast
to Glyn's mouth and let her lick and suck the nipple through her tunic.

As Ryan's arousal grew, so did the violence of her need. She grabbed Glyn's breast in a crushing grip, trapping
the nipple between her fingers and squeezing until the girl screamed. Instead of pulling away, Glyn pressed
herself harder against Ryan, finally managing to pull one of her hands free so that she could pull Ryan down
on her. Ryan laughed in pleasure at her boldness. She let go of Glyn's other hand and wrapped her fingers in
Glyn's hair, pulling her head back so that she could lick her throat. She grazed the skin with her teeth, but she
did not bite. Not yet.

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Glyn writhed in frustration, unable to gain the release for which she ached. Ryan continued to tease her,
playing with her nipples, licking along her belly, and nibbling the edge of her navel. Finally, Glyn ceased her
struggles and lay back, opening her legs invitingly. Ryan smiled in triumph. She rubbed her hand in the slick
cum that coated the young woman's labia. Glyn writhed again, trying to bring Ryan's hand in contact with her
clit. Ryan decided to be merciful, and she rubbed her thumb gently around Glyn's hard clit. Glyn tried to close
her legs around Ryan's wrist to bring her hand in harder contact with her clit, but Ryan pulled away and
pushed the girl's legs apart. She knelt so that Glyn's legs were pinned apart, and then she slowly began rubbing
her hand between Glyn's slick lips. She thrust two fingers into Glyn, piercing her maidenhead with a single,
deep stroke that forced a shattering scream from Glyn's throat. Ryan thrust into her again and again, and Glyn
rose to meet each thrust, her hands clenched in the sod, ripping up handfuls as she finally came.

Glyn collapsed back against the damp earth completely spent. Her senses still reeled, her body still convulsed
with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Even Ryan felt the need to rest a moment. She had never made love with
such passion before. After taking a moment to collect herself, Ryan slipped down to take the reward of her
hunt. She pressed apart Glyn's legs, spreading the lips with exquisite care. The smell of Glyn's blood and cum
mingled was the sweetest Ryan had ever scented. She leaned forward and carefully bit Glyn's swollen lips,
letting the blood flow a moment before she began to drink. Her tongue slipped deep inside Glyn, and the
young woman writhed with pleasure. Ryan drank until she was sated, bringing Glyn to orgasm twice more to
add her wine to the hot, sweet blood.

Glyn had faded into unconsciousness by the time Ryan was done. She easily lifted the girl and carried her back
to where Kylie lay sleeping. Ryan's cloak was on the ground, and she wrapped Glyn and let her sleep for some
time. Ryan held the young woman against her as she sat thinking. In her travels, she had met women who she
had cultivated for a few weeks. Brynn had taught her to enjoy sex and feeding together, and there was an
added pleasure when the woman was compliant. There had been no emotion on Ryan's part. The pain of losing
Brynn was still deep. Yet here was someone unique. No woman Ryan had ever met before had taken such
pleasure from Ryan's more violent needs. Glyn had wanted the hunt as much as Ryan had, and that astounded
the vampire. Ryan knew how to feed giving the minimum of pain to her victim; a pain that was very soon
supplanted by pleasure. But Glyn seemed to enjoy the pain itself. Here was someone worth cultivating. Ryan's
grin as she remembered the hunt Glyn led her on was anything but pleasant. In any right-minded person, the
sight of Ryan's bared teeth would strike fear, but Ryan suspected that Glyn would enjoy Ryan's sadism as
much as she enjoyed the sex itself.

Ryan felt Glyn moving in her arms. She stroked the sweat-dampened hair from the young woman's face and
kissed her forehead gently. This one, Ryan decided, this one she would keep. Glyn sighed and then stiffened
with the realization that she was not alone. She sat up slowly and let out a low groan when she felt the sore
muscles in her thighs and cunt spasm.

"I thought I had dreamed it," Glyn said softly.

"A good dream? Or a nightmare?"

Glyn chuckled. "A very good dream. If I hadn't wanted you to catch me, you wouldn't have."

Ryan laughed at the innocent arrogance of the statement. "Then I am glad you wished to be caught."

Ryan kissed Glyn again, enjoying the frank sensuality of the young woman. "I am not the first woman whom
you have lain with." It was not a question.

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"No, there is this maid in my house who sometimes shares my bed. But nothing I've done prepared me for
tonight. I've never felt anything like that."

Ryan took Glyn's hand and kissed it. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, my dear."

"Enjoyed… You know it was a great deal more than that. What are you, sir, that you can give such pain and
pleasure both?"

"I am a vampire. Do you know what that is?"

"A demon of some kind?"

Ryan smiled. "I'm sure the church would call me a demon, a child of the devil. Once, I was as human as you.
And then another vampire, one whom I would certainly call a demon, changed me into one of his own kind."

Glyn looked at Ryan, arching her eyebrow in surprise. "What made him a demon, and you not?"

"Vampires exist by drinking blood. Nothing else can nourish us." Glyn's eyes went round with understanding.
"But we can feed in different ways: we can take life, or not. We can give pain, or pleasure."

"Or both."

"In your case, yes, both."

"Why in my case?"

"Because, my dear, you enjoyed it so much."

Glyn blushed, and Ryan watched the heat rising in her again. It would be some days before the girl could be
taken again, but Ryan felt confident there would be other nights like this.

"Does my enjoying it…" Glyn asked hesitantly, "does that make me some sort of monster too?"

"It depends who you ask. If you spoke of this night to your confessor, I suspect that he would think you beyond
redemption." Ryan said the words, not to be cruel, but to warn the girl. "Many consider the enjoyment of sex a
sin in itself, but as far as I can see, it never said that anywhere in the Bible."

Glyn nodded. "I know better than to mention this to my parents or my priest." Glyn sighed. "What do I tell my
parents? They will be so worried. They will send people out to search for me in the morning, if they haven't
already."

"Blame it on Todd and his friends."

"Oh, but if I accuse them, not only will they be in a great deal of trouble, but my reputation, and Kylie's, will be
ruined."

"No, don't accuse them. After all, they can probably prove that they were home all night. Just say that you ran
off into the forest to avoid them catching you, and the two of you got lost. It is close enough to the truth to be

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believable, and a harmless lie as well."

"What about Kylie? How do I get her to tell the same tale?"

"She won't remember what happened. Just be sure to speak first, and she will agree with you. But then, I
suspect that you usually do speak first."

Glyn smiled. "She is a good friend, but, yes, I'm the one who usually gets us both in and out of trouble."

Ryan laughed again. "Speaking of trouble, when may I see you again?"

Glyn took a deep breath. "Can I come to you here in the forest during the day?"

"No, only after dark. I will show you a place near to town where you can meet me."

"I will have to sneak out, but it is not so hard to climb out of my window."

"What of the town gates?"

"We live right up against the wall. There is a tree outside my window, and from there, I can reach the top of the
wall. It will be easier if I get some rope…" Ryan smiled as the girl laid out her plans.

Ryan left Glyn an hour before dawn after first making sure the girl wasn't really lost. She moved quickly back
to her caravan feeling very pleased with the night's hunt. There was no rush now; she would wait a few days
before she actually went to Corbridge to see Meg and her family. By now, Meg should have more than one
child, perhaps a whole flock of them. Ryan had bought some fine fabrics and a few toys for Meg and her
family. But there was no rush. Glyn would meet her again in three days' time. Ryan was glad she had taken so
little blood from Glyn that night. It would not take the girl long to recover from Ryan's attentions. And then
Ryan would teach her so much more about pleasure, and about pain.

"When did you find out that Glyn was Meg's daughter?"

"About a week later, when I went to visit Meg and her family. Glyn was there, helping in the shop. I think one
reason it was such a shock was that Glyn was so very different from Brynn or Meg. They were both lovely
women, but they had a sweetness of nature. Glyn had none of that. She was all fire and excitement, but there
was never any question of her being in love with me. And she was ambitious and, in some ways, hard. There
was very little that was 'nice' about her. She was strong and knew exactly what she wanted."

"Is that a bad thing? You tell me that it is my fire and strength that attract you."

"I never said that there was anything wrong with Glyn or what she wanted. Just that she was very different. I
loved her company, her very frank sensuality, and her wonderful sense of humor. Frankly, nice can be rather
boring, not that I had ever found Brynn boring, but you can understand why I would not want to get involved
with someone like Brynn again. In the end, I destroyed Brynn because she was not suited to loving someone of
my nature. I felt safe with Glyn because love was never part of our relationship. More the fool I."

"Why? What happened?"

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"I told you Glyn was ambitious. We were lovers for four rather glorious years. There was nothing she would not
try, no pleasure she would deny me. Her parents started entertaining suitors for her a year after she and I
became lovers, but Glyn was not interested in any of the young men who sought to win her hand and her
ample dowry. She had a younger brother who would inherit the business, but thanks in part to me, Meg and
her husband had more then ample fortune to provide for both their children. Glyn, However, was not ready to
marry, and they indulged her because they loved her and didn't want her to leave the home yet. There would
always be suitors for her, so there was no rush."

"When she was twenty-two, a young lord came to the goldsmith to have a necklace made for his fiancee. There,
he saw Glyn and was smitten by her. Normally, no more would have come of the flirtation; the man was
already engaged, but before he could be married, the young woman died of a fever. And so he began courting
Glyn in her stead."

Ryan took a sip of her wine and smiled sardonically. "As you can imagine, it caused a bit of a scandal. The
woman was hardly dead, and the lord was already sniffing after another woman's skirts. I must say that Glyn
handled it magnificently. If she flirted with him, she did so very discreetly, so neither her parents nor anyone
else could find fault with her behavior. It was no more common in those days than it is now for a titled person
to marry someone from the trades, no matter how well off she might be. And Glyn's dowry, although more
than ample for her station, was not so large as to pay for a title. But she wanted him as much as he wanted her,
and in the end, she got what she wanted. They were married with much pomp and ceremony, and she was
installed as the lady of his manors."

"What about you? How did you feel about it?"

"I was mostly amused. I helped her when I could. In case you are wondering, I did not have anything to do
with the death of the lord's fiancee. I couldn't go to the wedding itself, but I sent Glyn a rather nice pendant for
a wedding present, and later on, Lord Landen was happy enough to have me a visitor at his table, for I helped
him find a better market for the fleeces his manors produced."

"I began traveling again once Glyn was married. We could not afford to continue our relationship: there would
have been no discreet way for us to meet, and she seemed content trading the sexual power we shared for the
power in the world she wielded as the wife of a prominent lord. So I left her to her new life, only visiting
occasionally as an old friend might."

Ryan sat lost in thought for a long time. Carissa sat quietly as well. When she had first heard about Ryan's
previous lovers, she had felt both jealous and diminished, as if she were but the latest object in Ryan's collection
of women. Over the months they had been living together, However, she had felt those feelings fade. She was
more fascinated than anything. She was not, as Ryan had assured her, a replacement for Brynn, the one
woman Ryan had really loved. Indeed, Carissa felt she had more in common with Glyn then she had with
Brynn. Carissa realized that she was changing in ways she could have never even imagined. There was no
jealousy left in her for either the women of Ryan's past or the two dance hall girls Ryan had begun to keep in
town. They were not, they never could be, to Ryan what she was. What she wanted now was a sense of how
Ryan and she came together as they had that misty night almost six years ago.

"Glyn had three children: two sons and a daughter. The boys were the pride of their father, and Glyn, well love
was never a strong emotion for Glyn. She had not wanted Landen for himself, only for the power he
represented, and her children were her part of the bargain she had made. I felt sorry for young Emily. I had

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used some tricks of makeup to appear aged, so to her, I was Uncle Ryan. One time, I bought her a lap harp, for
she loved music and had the sweetest voice. I would listen to her, encourage her no matter how many wrong
notes she played, and she developed a deep affection for me. There was a great deal of satisfaction in that. I felt
toward her as I had toward Meg: as if in some way, she were the child of Brynn's and my love."

"But Glyn didn't see it that way."

"No. She who had never really loved, she was jealous beyond all reason. Even if she did not want me any
longer, it galled her that I might want her daughter. And she fought age with all her strength and passion. That
I should be ageless, that also galled her. I am not sure when she began to hate. I do swear to you that I never
had any thought but a liking for Emily and a wish for her to grow up happy."

"Glyn confronted me, accused me of trying to seduce her daughter. I swore that I had no designs on the girl,
but Glyn did not believe me. She could not understand how something such as I could have a relationship for a
female that did not include passion. Glyn could not be reasoned with, so in the end, I agreed never to come
back to her manor. I said good-bye to Emily and Lord Landen very publicly and left on my trade route."

"I never went back to her home, but I had very close business ties with her father. I would come back to
Corbridge on a regular schedule, and I would always stay at the same inn. She knew that."

Ryan sighed. "I am not sure what she told her husband or the priest, how she turned them against me without
destroying her own reputation. They were waiting for me when I came to town the next time. There was a mob
of them. They stormed my wagon, and my servants fled. I didn't blame them; I would have too. I was still
asleep inside, and they dragged me out into the late afternoon sun. My skin blistered in the light, and although
I did not burn, it was confirmation of what I was. They smashed the wagon to splinters, and there they found
more signs that I was indeed the demon Glyn had named me: books about the powers from the east, bottles of
mysterious powders and liquids, and a coil of Brynn's hair that was all that I had left of her. Glyn claimed that
the hair was from her daughter and that I was using it to cast a spell of possession on the young girl."

"In a way, I was lucky that the mob was beyond reason. The church usually burned those they thought
possessed of demons, and if they had waited until the next morning to do so, the sun would have done the job
for them."

"What did they do to you?"

"They beat me, stoned me. Then, they got the idea of having the horses drag my body around the town. They
stripped me naked and were astounded to find I was a woman. That only confirmed that I was evil. A woman
who could pass as a man for years had to had have demonic powers."

Ryan looked into Carissa's eyes. She could see the pain there as Ryan spoke. "I remember the pain of each stone
they threw. I remember my body being torn to bits as I was drawn through the brush and along the rocky
shore of the river. But what I remember clearest was the look on Glyn's face, the look of triumph as I faded
from consciousness and knew no more."

Carissa moved closer to Ryan and covered her hands with her own. "They buried my body far away from the
town." Ryan smiled ironically. "If they had buried me in sacred ground, I might have never wakened again. I'm
not sure. But I woke to the feeling of the earth pressing around me, covering me with its weight and blackness. I
could not suffocate, even tough the grimy earth filled my nostrils. I could not move my arms or legs. I could not

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even open my eyes, not that it would have mattered. And I could feel the insects, the worms trying to eat my
body. Like Prometheus, each day they would devour some of my flesh, and each night it would be renewed."

"How long?" Carissa asked in an appalled voice.

"I don't know. I must have gone mad. There was no way I could not. The first year, I remember the changes in
the earth as it froze and thawed around me, but after that, time is a complete blur. Sometimes, the ground
would become soaked with water, and I prayed that I would drown, but of course I didn't. Finally, after an
eternity, the earth settled, and my grave was uncovered. I'm not even sure how I came to fight my way clear of
the earth, but I came out of it with a rage and a hunger that took another eternity to sate."

Carissa was kneeling next to Ryan now. "Oh beloved, I never understood how much, how much pain…"

Ryan stroked Carissa's hair back from her face. "Vampires don't shed tears, but I learned to scream in pain and
terror then, Carissa. I learned to cry, not for my physical pain, but for the pain of my betrayal. What did I do to
her? Even after all these centuries, I still don't understand what I did to her to make her hate me so."

"She was the monster, not you. Maybe, maybe she learned to regret her bargain. Maybe she learned that there
was no substitute for the fire that you gave her. I don't know either, Ryan."

Ryan took a deep breath. "She never loved me, but she wanted to possess me. I told myself I never loved her,
that I would never love again because of how much Brynn's death cost me."

"But you did love her?"

"I don't know Carissa. I only know that nothing else in my long life has ever hurt me as she did."

Carissa had never seen Ryan so vulnerable. It was as if all of her armor had crumbled around her. "Did you
ever wonder why I keep the house so well lit my dear? I learned to be afraid of the dark. Isn't that funny? A
vampire who fears the dark."

"But you've mastered that fear. You hunt in the dark. Indeed, sometimes, you become the very darkness of the
night."

"That's the secret, my dear. It took many years for me to learn it, many years before I could enter a closed dark
space at all. I had to learn to become the darkness, to let it not just be part of me, but to fill me completely, until
there was nothing of the light left, nothing to cast any shadows at all."

"I'm not sure I understand, my love. I am surprised that you ever wanted to have anything to do with one of
Glyn's descendants." Carissa was trying to lighten Ryan's mood. She felt protective toward this woman who
had done so many dark deeds, and had had so many dark deeds done to her.

"Oh, believe me, I never wanted to have anything to do with Glyn's spawn, but the fates have never seemed to
take my wishes into consideration. But, if you don't mind, I will leave that story for another night. It is almost
dawn, and I find myself rather tired."

It was Carissa who led Ryan up the stairs and helped her undress. Ryan had never allowed her to take care of
her this way before, but in all honesty, she had never seemed to need such care before. Carissa curled around

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Ryan's almost rigid body. She wished she had some warmth to give her lover. Ryan's body remained stiff, even
in sleep. Carissa cradled her lover against her breast as best she could and slipped into sleep herself as the sun
rose outside.

Late in the day, Carissa heard Ryan cry out softly. She woke immediately and found Ryan writhing, as if in
pain. She twisted away from Carissa and began to whine as a beaten dog might. Carissa remembered what
Ryan had said, and before she tried to wake her lover, she lit every candle in the room. Then she took Ryan
back in her arms and soothed her. Ryan fell back asleep, and Carissa held her close to her heart. She would not
press her lover so hard any longer for stories of the past, for she had learned one more very important lesson
about her kind: Vampires do have nightmares.

7

Learning the Ropes

After the encounter with Martin, Carissa was shy about going out alone. She felt confident now that she could
deal with any mortal, but she was not sure if she could deal with another of her own kind. From what Carissa
had been learning about vampire culture, she could never be sure if the next vampire she met would treat her
as Martin did or appear to be friendly, even helpful, only to stab her in the back at a later time. One thing she
was learning was that vampires seemed for the most part to embody the worst characteristics of humankind:
they were selfish, territorial, often petty, and always scrambling for a toehold in the power structure of their
kind. There were exceptions, such as Ryan herself, yet no one would accuse even Ryan of being a nice person.

"Are you going to keep your date with Reesha this Sunday?" Ryan asked as they lounged by the fire after a
long evening of hunting.

"I would like to. Do you think it likely that I will run into another of Alyssa's subjects?"

"It frightens you?"

"Yes, it does. I managed to control Martin, but the next one might be stronger than him."

"The next one probably will be. Most vampires do have better manners than Martin though, so you would not
be in the same kind of physical danger, but they will test you."

"You said you want to wait for me to meet Alyssa until I am stronger, more sure of myself, but if she is going to
send her underlings to test me…"

"Then it would be better if they did not know your full strength. I understand your concerns, my dear. I
learned, as do most vampires learn, by experience, but I've placed you in the middle of a power conflict. So
perhaps I had better teach you how to deal with it. Let me think about how to go about it, and then I will do
my best to prepare you."

Carissa smiled. "Thank you. I meant it when I said I didn't know what to do with Martin once I caught him."

"You should be safe enough taking the carriage to meet Reesha. Alyssa does have spies, but they will not have
realized yet that Reesha has a connection to you."

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"How can you be sure?"

"Because I have spies of my own."

"Ryan, am I putting Reesha in danger?"

"If they think she is just a plaything for you, then no. One of the rules of the game is that we leave one another's
pets alone. Otherwise there would be a constant bloodbath as vampires fought over choice morsels. If,
However, they realize that you have an emotional connection to Reesha, then Alyssa will find a way to use her
against you. She might even kill Reesha to make you vulnerable. The best way you can protect her is by
appearing indifferent, by donning a face of coldness so that other vampires can never guess what you do or do
not value."

Carissa nodded. "That won't work for you and me, will it? Alyssa knows you must value me." The words were
spoken with half confidence.

Ryan reached out her hand and caressed Carissa's cheek. "The very fact that I have not made any other
vampire in all of Alyssa's memory will tell her that, my dove. She is an intelligent woman, and she will know
that what ties us together is not the kind of allegiance based on fear and politics she has formed. I should warn
you that Alyssa both fears and hates me, and she will do anything to hurt me. You are a potential pawn for her,
but I do promise you that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

"Ryan, have you ever considered the possibility that I might one day betray you as Glyn did?"

"Of course I have, but you are very different from Glyn. You have neither her coldness nor her ambition." Ryan
smiled bitterly. "In many ways, she would have made a very good vampire, and I am very grateful that I never
made the mistake of making her."

"I love you. You said vampires don't love, but I love you with all my heart."

Ryan sighed. "Carissa, I truly hope that your heart will survive: that you will never suffer what I did, and that
you will remain what you are through the centuries. But you are so very young, my dear, and so very
vulnerable."

"But I have something you never did."

"What is that, my dear?"

"I have you."

Ryan had cleared one long room of all furniture except a couple of chairs. The rugs had been taken up as well,
and the smooth wood gleamed darkly in the light of the single branch of candles that had been lit. Ryan had
left the room purposely in shadows, for she wanted Carissa to use her full range of senses. In the corners were
shadowy items that Carissa could not make out. Vampire sight allowed her to see much better in the dark than
a human could, but even that had its limits. Although Carissa could see any living being by sensing its blood,
she could not see other vampires in the same way; their blood flowed cold, and it was the heat of living blood

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that showed its patterns to vampire sight.

"I suppose that the powers we vampires posses can be categorized into three kinds," Ryan instructed, "those of
the senses, those of the mind, and our physical strength. I have explained that our strength comes with age, and
generally speaking, the older the vampire, the stronger he or she becomes. However, I have never met a
vampire who is physically strong who is not also strong willed, but that may be because the weak-willed ones
are unmade young."

"The skills of the mind are directly related to our strength of will. If we catch a person's eyes, whether they be
human or vampire, it seems that we become directly connected to their own mind, and we can impose our will
if we are stronger. Generally, it is easier to suborn a mortal then another vampire, but there are exceptions."

"How do you change a person's memory?" Carissa asked.

"I am not exactly sure, but the process involves reliving the memory with the person and imposing what you
want as the memory plays out. It takes a great deal of practice, my dove, and it only works well when it
becomes instinctual. When you can remember something as you want it to have happened at the same time as
the other person is reliving the memory as she lived it, then the memory will be changed seamlessly."

Carissa nodded, only half understanding Ryan's explanation.

"As for the vampire's senses, you have already experienced the heightened ability of hearing, smell, and sight.
In part, it is only increased acuity, particularly an improved ability to see in the dark. But when we are hungry,
we begin to see not the outer physical shell of a living creature, but the inner fire—their blood. It is not that we
see heat itself, for a fire looks more or less the same to us, but that we become aware of some property that is
inherent only to living blood."

"Tonight, I want to concentrate on your senses, my dear. I don't want you to be ambushed, for it takes time to
gather the will. The most vulnerable time for most vampires is after they have fed. They are sated, and the
hunter's senses tend to become quiescent. You will need to learn to be able to control your senses completely by
reaching within and calling upon your hunter's instincts."

"If I have just hunted, will I be able to use those instincts at all?"

"Yes, because you have already learned how to control your feeding. Believe me, my dove, this is no small feat.
I am very proud of you. Since you always stop short of full satiation, you are always just a little bit hungry.
This means that you can maintain the alertness needed for the hunt."

"After I feed, there is always a period of languor, Ryan. I am not sure if I can overcome that."

"In time, you will be able to, but for now we either hunt together, or you will feed only in a place that you know
is secure. That, too, I will teach you: How to make a place safe for yourself."

"Tonight, I want to concentrate on your senses, but I also want to teach you how to move. That is why I asked
you to dress as I have. Let us begin by concentrating the senses. Are you hungry, my dear?"

"Not particularly. We hunted yesterday, but there is a thread there."

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"Close your eyes and concentrate on the hunger. Think of it as a dragon coiled in your belly. Feel it wake,
stretching inside you. Can you feel it moving?"

"Yes."

"Let it uncoil along your nerves, reaching out around to find the prey."

Carissa took deep, even breaths. She could feel her sense expanding around her like a bubble. Sound moved
past Ryan's voice to the soft snapping of the candlewicks, out past the walls, until Carissa could hear the soft
footsteps on the back stairs. She automatically turned toward that one sound that could signal either danger or
food.

"Good," Ryan whispered. "Do you sense his blood?"

"Yes. It is too far for me to feel the heat of it, but I can still see it like a faint red glow."

"Can you smell it?"

Carissa flared her nostrils. "I smell other blood closer, much stronger." Carissa whirled toward the kitchen, still
with her eyes closed. "It's like a flare of fire, that way, but I can't tell what it is."

Ryan laughed. "The cat has caught a mouse. It is good you can smell the mouse's blood, but you can't let
something like that distract you. Savor the scent for a moment, so you know it and can ignore it."

Carissa wrinkled her nose. "It has a very brassy smell to it, Ryan. Is all animal blood like that?"

"That is the scent of fear. It gives the blood itself a very sharp taste, even somewhat bitter."

Carissa nodded and moved again to concentrate her senses on the man climbing the steps. "I can just scent him,
Ryan, but his scent is mingled in with the other servants." Carissa turned her attention to the sleeping servants.
There were more than a dozen of them, and the combined awareness of their blood woke her appetite, turning
the dragon into a demon.

Carissa began to move toward the prey, her hunter's senses completely locked in to the rich scent of blood. She
moved past Ryan almost as if she were walking in her sleep, and then suddenly she was sprawled painfully on
the hardwood floor, Ryan's walking stick at her throat.

"That, my dear, is how you die." Ryan gave Carissa her hand and helped her up. "If you allow the beast to
control you, then you too become prey in your turn. Learn to harness the dragon; learn to make it work for
you. Now, again."

Carissa rubbed her throat and nodded. She knew Ryan would not go easy on her, but then, her very existence
depended on learning these lessons. Three times Carissa was caught in the thrall of the hunt, and three times
Ryan knocked her flat. The last time, Ryan administered a hard blow from her stick across Carissa's buttocks.
Carissa's first reaction was to snarl and to leap up in challenge, but then she caught hold of the surge of anger
and took a deep, calming breath. She nodded to Ryan and signaled that she was ready to begin again.

This time when Carissa reached out with her senses, she also kept the memory of the painful blow foremost in
her mind. Pain is danger, she told herself. She opened her senses completely and felt once more the sight and

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smell of the servants' hot blood run along her nerves like strong liquor, but this time she added the memory of
the brassy smell of the mouse's blood, not because the servants were afraid, but to remind herself that she
should be. They were not the only prey in the house, she told herself. As she took the step toward the door, she
caught a flash of moving shadow. Carissa pivoted to meet Ryan's blow, her hands reaching for the stick as it
descended toward her head.

Ryan aborted the blow, allowing the wood to rest lightly against Carissa's palms. Now the two opponents were
eye to eye, gazes locked in a struggle of wills. Ryan's eyes were black with the depth of centuries. Carissa could
see sparks flashing in those depths, and she wanted more then anything to give herself up to their mesmerizing
patterns. She steeled herself against the temptation while Ryan battered her will, trying to force her to her
knees. Carissa could not retaliate. It was all she could do to lock her joints and bear the weight of Ryan's will. It
touched her mind and slammed against her inner core like the blows of a hammer. Carissa felt herself wavering
and then she remembered Ryan comparing her to a ruby. She made her mind into a faceted shield, and the
blows bounced off harmlessly. Ryan grunted in surprise, and Carissa could sense her lover's lips spreading into
a smile of admiration. And then she was there on the floor kneeling at Ryan's feet, her body on fire with the
sudden blaze of pure sexual need.

Ryan stepped back, giving Carissa a chance to recover. Carissa knelt, trembling, and it took all her will not to
throw herself forward at Ryan begging her to take her. She let her anger build to transmute the fire of passion
into that of pure rage. Carissa sprang at Ryan, her hands rigid as claws, snarling deep in her throat. Her
heightened senses allowed her for the first time to see the red-black blood that pulsed in Ryan's neck. Now she
hungered to taste that black fire; she hungered to feel Ryan's pain.

Ryan caught Carissa and held her. She was tempted, oh so tempted to crush the woman against her and make
brutal love to her, but pleasure would have to wait. Ryan was much too disciplined to let her senses be aroused
until she was ready. For long moments, Carissa grappled with Ryan, her lesser strength making no impression
on Ryan at all. Finally the haze faded from her sight, and she pulled away. She stumbled to one of the chairs
and collapsed there.

Ryan went and poured two glasses of wine, bringing one to Carissa and settling in the second chair to give
Carissa a chance to recover.

"What happened to me, Ryan? I wanted nothing more than to hurt you." Carissa was completely bewildered.

"Dear one, I meant it when I said there is a dragon, a demon inside you. It is more then just a metaphor.
Perhaps we are possessed, as the priests say. I also meant it that you have to learn to leash that beast, or it will
destroy you."

"Ryan, I… please believe me, I would never want to hurt you."

"I know, Carissa. I purposely triggered that reaction because this, too, you have to learn to control. When you
changed your defense and let my direct attack just bounce off of you, I switched tactics. Instead of attacking
your intellect, your mind, I attacked your emotions."

Carissa sighed. "And very effectively too. But would it be that effective with someone else? Someone whom I
did not lust after already?"

Ryan smiled at the honesty of Carissa's assessment. "Once you learn to anticipate such an attack, no it won't be

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nearly as effective. I will always have an advantage because you do desire me, but we will build you a mental
chastity belt to keep others from being able to use that attack. And I promise you, my dear, I will never use that
kind of attack against you except to help teach you how to counter it."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want a mindless slave, and that is where such games would lead. Now, how did you counter
that attack?"

"I turned the lust into anger and attacked you."

"And did that defense work?"

"Obviously not. I lost all reason. I let the dragon take control of me, and I had no real will of my own left."

"Which left you in the most vulnerable state. Listen, my dear, if I had wanted to, I could have raped you. And if
I had raped you in that state, not only would your body have been ravished, your mind would have been as
well. Your will might have been burned out of you completely, perhaps not by just one experience, for you are
very strong, but this is how many vampires make sexual slaves for themselves. They first focus the will of the
subject on hate, and then they break that will completely. What is left of the woman, or sometimes boy, is
something like what is left of an opium addict after years of smoking the drug. It would be better to succumb to
the lust than to meet it with that kind of rage."

"Are you saying that I should just lay back and enjoy the rape if someone does that to me?" Carissa's eyes were
flashing with an anger of a different sort now.

"No, my dear. That is why we are here: so that you can learn not to become a victim. I am warning you of what
will happen if you lose control. And all the heavens forbid, if you should find yourself as helpless as I made you
tonight, then do anything, anything at all, but do not give in to that rage."

"Even if I am stronger than my opponent? Even if, by loosing the beast, I could defeat him?"

"Carissa, if someone is strong enough to successfully attack your emotions that way, then they will be too
strong for you to defeat physically. But think, my dove, how would you have felt if you had succeeded in
killing me? Because that was a killing rage you were in."

"Oh…" Carissa started in surprise and look a deep breath understanding just where her rage might have led
her.

"There may come a time when you need to kill those of our kind, but if you do it this way, letting the beast
control you, then I think it will hurt you as much as if you were forced to kill each time you fed."

Carissa nodded slowly. "Does that mean killing in cold blood is better than killing in the heat of passion, Ryan?"

"No, it means killing in defense is better than killing in rage. For you, killing will never be easy. If you must do
it, then you must be able to justify your actions to yourself. Otherwise, you will become a monster in your own
eyes."

"Is it easy for you, Ryan? Do you find killing easy?"

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"Too easy, which is why I don't kill mortals anymore except in very rare cases. It, too, can become an addiction.
Back when Brynn was learning to control her appetites, we would look for scum, thieves, murderers, and
rapists, and there was a certain satisfaction for me to kill such men. But that is playing God. I think that is the
most potent of all addictions: the power to judge whether someone should live or die. I refuse to be a slave to
power, anymore then I would bend my neck to the likes of Alyssa. Now, let's get on with the other half of your
lessons."

Carissa gave Ryan a startled look and then sighed in resignation as she rose from her seat obediently. She
ached already from being slammed into the floor four times in one night. She grumbled that there better be a
hot bath waiting for her, but she got into position.

That night she had found a long pair of bloomers as well as a camisole all in black waiting for her. The maid
had blushingly told Carissa that Lord Wolf had requested that she wear only those garments. Carissa had
smiled and donned the bloomers wondering what Ryan had in mind. Now that she knew, she wasn't sure she
wanted to wear them after all.

"Men have an advantage over women in many respects when it comes to fighting."

"Because they are stronger?"

Ryan laughed. "Oh no, because they are dressed more sensibly and because it is easier for them to carry
weapons. I dress in men's clothing, and I always carry a stick."

"I wondered about that. Is it a sword stick?"

"No, I don't really need any weapons against mortals, and steel is not very effective against others of our kind.
My walking stick is made of ebony, one of the strongest woods, and it tapers to a rather sharp point."

"So it is true that vampires can be killed by a wooden stake through the heart."

"It is mostly true. A stake through the heart will completely incapacitate a vampire. A thin blade leaves a
wound that could heal fairly quickly, but a thick stake will tear the heart apart completely. Although it is
theoretically possible to heal from even such a wound, the vampire would need very special care, and we are
not so charitable of one another that an injured vampire is likely to receive such care. If you do intend to kill
another vampire, it is a good precaution to leave the stake in the heart. With it in place, there is no way the
heart can heal around it."

Ryan handed Carissa a cane similar to her own. The first movements Ryan taught Carissa were basic blocking
moves both against another cane and against Ryan attacking with her bare hands. She would go through the
motions slowly, and then speed them up until Carissa could meet and attack at almost full speed. Carissa lost
track of the time as they moved from one exercise to the next, repeating each movement over and over. At
times, Ryan would stand back and watch Carissa go through the dancelike movements on her own.

There was a smile of pure admiration on Ryan's lips when Carissa completed the last sequence. Carissa stood a
moment, waiting for Ryan's assessment. As she became more and more confident in herself, Carissa needed less
of Ryan's approval, but that did not mean she still did not enjoy receiving it.

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"Very good, very good indeed, for a first lesson. You learn very quickly, my dear, but it will take time before
each movement becomes automatic. I want you to practice every night for an hour or so. It takes mortals half a
lifetime to learn such skills. Unfortunately, you may need them in just a few weeks. The good news is,
However, that most vampires are too arrogant to bother learning such skills. They assume their natural
strength is enough."

Carissa collapsed into her seat again, but she was not really tired. The exercise left her feeling energized, and the
bruises she had received earlier in the evening were almost healed.

"Do vampires learn faster than humans?"

"No, but how long do you think you have been practicing, my dear?"

Carissa looked around at the clock on the mantel. "Oh, it's after three o'clock."

"Yes, you have been moving without rest for over five hours. No novice human could do that. In this one night,
you have concentrated four or five lessons. You still must practice," Ryan cautioned, "but by concentrating the
lessons, your body remembers them better since it receives more repetition in a short period. Now, how do you
feel?"

"Wonderful. Very relaxed, and rather more hungry than when we began. I may need to hunt again tomorrow."

"I know. The more energy you use, the more you need to hunt. Tomorrow some of my agents are coming to the
house to discuss business. There is a new venture that I am considering investing in."

"Should I be interested in it as well?" Ryan had arranged for Carissa's gems to be sold. Some money Carissa
had immediately invested in the mine that Ryan owned, but she still had a sizable sum in the bank.

"Investing in shipping is always risky, but the profits are usually very high. I can afford to lose some money if
the venture goes wrong, but you have less to lose."

"Is this part of the China trade? I thought that there was very little risk in the tea trade."

"There is much less risk, but the China trade involves selling opium to China, which the Chinese government
does not appreciate. Sooner or later, there will be another war over this, and I'd rather not get involved. No,
what I am considering is a pharmaceutical trade with South America. There is a bark that seems to be effective
against malaria, and there may be other botanicals from that continent that prove to be very valuable. I would
supply the ships, and my partners will harvest the bark."

"And you think this is too dangerous a venture for me to invest in?"

"Why don't you come listen to the proposal tomorrow and make up your own mind, my dear?" When Carissa
nodded her agreement, Ryan continued. "After the meeting, you can practice some and then we can hunt."

Ryan poured Carissa another glass of wine and brought her a long package wrapped in cloth.

"I had this made for you."

Carissa pulled the cloth away to reveal a slender walking stick inlaid with filigree. The head was broad enough

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to fit comfortably in her palm, while the bottom end tapered into a sharp point. The silver contrasted
attractively with the black wood, and a single ruby was set in the top of the handle. A line of running wolves
circled the stick about a quarter of the way down.

"It's beautiful, Ryan. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"Women usually don't carry sticks, but I did see something similar to this in London. I had this made to certain
specifications. The handle is white gold, not silver. You can handle it with or without gloves and not have to
worry. The bottom, However, is inlaid with silver."

"You said that silver is a kind of poison for vampires."

"Yes, even just handling it over long periods of time can cause one of our kind to sicken. That is why I made the
handle of gold. If you were to stab a vampire with that stick, it would cause tremendous pain, certainly
distracting him long enough for you to take other action."

"But it would not kill?"

"Not unless you stabbed him in the heart or left the silver in the wound. I have also had several hat pins made
for you that have silver shafts, but make sure that the shafts do not come in contact with your scalp. It might
not kill you, but it would weaken you."

Carissa nodded. "Ryan, human poisons work on the digestion. If someone ingests arsenic, they become very ill
and die. I don't understand how the silver works on us."

Ryan shrugged. "I am no doctor, my dear, but not all poisons work by ingestion. Some work on the blood. The
natives of South America use a poison that paralyzes their prey when they shoot a dart into it, but they can eat
the poisoned meat without ill effect. We don't know how most poisons work. Most are ineffective on vampires,
but silver, once it gets in our blood, kills us, and even contact with the skin can be painful and weaken us."

"Here, hold out your hand."

Carissa obeyed without thought. Even when Ryan picked up her new walking stick and poised the silver point
over Carissa's palm, she did not flinch. Ryan smiled and kissed Carissa's palm. Then she drew the silver point
along the flesh leaving behind a shallow scratch. Carissa gasped at the sharp burning pain. The wound was
small and shallow, yet it bled. Carissa brought her hand up to her mouth to lick the wound but hesitated. Then
she held it out to Ryan's lips. The bead of blood hung like a garnet at the base of Carissa's thumb.

"Do you know what you are offering me, my dear?" Ryan asked softly.

"Yes, My Lord. It has been a long time since we made love in this way."

Ryan bent over Carissa's hand, licking the drop delicately from her palm. When she turned to look up at
Carissa again, her eyes were dark pools of passion. This time, Carissa did not resist Ryan's will at all. She let her
senses fill with Ryan's wanting of her. Ryan's kiss was rough with blood lust. Her hands on Carissa were hard
with need. Carissa wrapped her arms around her lover's neck, and Ryan lifted her effortlessly. The door seemed
to fling itself out of their path, and Ryan took the stairs two at a time in her haste.

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When they reached the bedchamber, Ryan reined in her passion. She tossed Carissa down on the bed, but then
she stepped back deliberately to look down on her. It had been many months since Ryan had tasted Carissa's
blood. Vampires could and did feed on each other at times, but it was never an act of love, rather one of death.
Ryan wanted to be very sure she was in complete control before she took this very precious gift. She slowly
stripped the clothing from Carissa, stroking each part of her body until Carissa ached with desire.

Carissa reached for Ryan, needing to feel her lover take her. She was no tame slave but a complete wanton
given over to her lust for a woman she loved. This time, she was the one who ripped Ryan's shirt from her. Ryan
laughed with pleasure and wrestled Carissa back down on the bed. Carissa used some of the new skills Ryan
had taught her to slip from her lover's grasp. In a moment, she was the one on top, and she rubbed her very
wet pussy along Ryan's thigh. The scent elicited a growl from deep in Ryan's throat, and the next thing Carissa
knew, she was kneeling with her head pulled back, her vulnerable throat exposed to Ryan's teeth. Rather then
fighting, Carissa arched her throat even more. Ryan let her go and stepped back looking at the naked and very
willing woman before her.

Ryan began to deliberately undo her trousers, and Carissa moaned knowing what that presaged, or thinking
she did. Ryan brought out the phallus that she wore strapped under her clothing, but that seemed almost a part
of her flesh. It had a soft, silky surface and a heat all its own. Ryan stepped forward a pace, the cock an inch
from Carissa's lips. Carissa looked up at her lover in surprise and then leaned forward to kiss the head. Ryan
thrust her hips forward, and Carissa opened her mouth to take the cock between her lips. When Ryan thrust
again, Carissa gasped, feeling the cock fill her whole mouth. She had never even imagined something like this
before. Part of her rebelled from the thought of taking into her mouth something that had been so deep into her
most intimate place. Another part of her was becoming intoxicated from the scent of Ryan's own arousal.
Carissa inhaled deeply and sucked on Ryan's cock, hearing her lover's groan like a chord that made both their
bodies resonate.

Carissa licked the length of Ryan's cock, loving the satin texture of it. She looked up at Ryan and saw that her
lover's eyes were closed and a look of pure ecstasy was on her face. She took Ryan inside her mouth again, the
velvet of her tongue cradling Ryan, sucking her deep inside. Ryan began thrusting again, and Carissa took her
as she could, opening herself in a new way, a way she had never dreamed of.

Somehow, they wound up on the bed again. Ryan was inside Carissa's cunt now, her thrusts much less gentle
than before. There was a giving and taking as their bodies arched against each other.

Carissa looked deep into her lover's eyes and saw the darkness there. She reveled in it, in the pain and pleasure
Ryan gave her as Ryan's teeth closed on her breast. As her blood flowed, so did her ecstasy. Orgasm lasted
hours, minutes, seconds; there was no time, just sensation. Carissa had given all that she could, all that she had,
and in return had received all of Ryan. They slept.

8

Close Encounters

Carissa looked down at the slumbering form of her lover and sighed with pleasure. At first, thinking of Reesha
as her lover had left her feeling guilty. Carissa's heart belonged to Ryan and no one else. Yet making a conquest
of Reesha had fed more then Carissa's ego. The woman was warm and tender, in a way Ryan could never be.
Carissa found herself caring for Reesha, and she had felt that was a betrayal of her love for Ryan. Yet Ryan had

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not only not objected, she had encouraged Carissa. In the almost four months since Reesha had become her
lover, this guilt had faded as Carissa saw that her relationship with Reesha did not change her love for Ryan.

Reesha's company also gave Carissa a respite from the feeling that she was caught in the middle of some
morality play. She did not feel that she was fated in some way to be Reesha's lover, as she did with Ryan. She
still did not understand how Ryan had become so entangled with her lineage. There certainly seemed to be
something working to bring Ryan together to the women of Carissa's line. Perhaps it was just some facet of
Ryan's character that caused her to again and again become involved with Carissa's ancestors, but each woman
had been very different in personality and, for the most part, in appearance. If she had not loved Ryan so
much, Carissa might have resented her "fate," but Ryan gave her so very much, including her freedom.

It was still several hours before dawn. Carissa stretched, feeling languorous after making love with Reesha. That
was another difference between Reesha and Ryan: Ryan always made love to Carissa, but Reesha and Carissa
made love with each other. Carissa was in no rush to return to the house. Ryan would be out all night on
business of her own. She loved Reesha's rooms. They were smaller and a bit more crowded than Ryan's house,
but they had a warmth the latter lacked. Reesha had chosen darker colors for her home, and each item looked
as if it had been chosen individually. Most pieces were undoubtedly ill used; some were even shabby, yet they
were all comfortable and somehow fit together into a welcoming whole. In some ways, Reesha's rooms were
much like the woman herself. She had seen a lot of life and had been used hard by it in the past, but somehow
this just made her into a complete person. Carissa realized that she had not yet come to that sort of
completeness in her own life. She was like a canvas half filled with a sketch while Reesha was a work complete,
the glorious colors of her life slowly taking on a patina of age.

The first night Carissa had met Reesha for dinner, she had felt like a gawky girl. She had dressed carefully for
the occasion. Reesha knew that she was Lady Wolf, but Carissa did not want to advertise her class to the people
in that neighborhood. Not only would it ruin her reputation with her own class, but it would leave her
vulnerable to be victimized by would-be thieves and extortionists. On the other hand, she did not want to make
Reesha feel that Carissa was slumming or stooping to a lower class. Reesha did not deserve any condescension.
Carissa had worried about the problem for days and finally came up with the idea of remaking one of her old
dresses to wear.

The women of Carissa's class would never dream of wearing a gown for more than one season. Some never
wore a ball gown for more than one occasion. Some dresses were given to maids once they were out of fashion,
and some were sold, discarded, or even sent to poor relations. A not-so-wealthy woman could dress well enough
in such a used dress, albeit everyone would recognize the fact that it was not new. The problem with Carissa's
dresses was that Edinburgh was several years behind London in fashion. Everything that Carissa had worn to
the few dinners and balls she and Ryan had attended had been considered very nouveau, and Carissa was
amused to see how women were beginning to copy her clothing. Even her older dresses were newer in fashion
than anything worn in Scotland, so she had her maid take one of her dresses and change it to look even older.

The maid's stitches were very neat, but the dress was obviously made over, which was exactly what Carissa
wanted. She had chosen a peacock blue dress and had the maid lower the neckline and remove the bows
Carissa's mother had insisted on. The dress wasn't quite respectable in its new incarnation, but then, neither was
Carissa herself.

In the carriage on the way to meet Reesha, Carissa had worried that the gown was too daring, too obvious, as if
she were wearing it to seduce. But then, she was. She had never had any experience like this to draw on. Ryan

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had swept her off her feet. There had been little courtship, just an almost instant recognition of desire. Carissa
had no idea how to proceed. If she had had less courage, she would have turned back. Or maybe it was
stubbornness.

Reesha had arranged for a private room at the restaurant, and she greeted Carissa in a plain black gown that
covered her from neck to ankle. Carissa felt embarrassed by her attempt to look sultry. She all but stuttered her
greetings, but Reesha was openly admiring, seating Carissa much as Ryan would have. Reesha had already
ordered, and the food and wine arrived shortly after Carissa did. If Reesha put Carissa's lack of appetite down
to nervousness, well Carissa was very nervous. It did not take long for Reesha to put the younger woman at
ease. She asked for the story of Carissa's elopement, and Carissa was soon involved with telling the tale in such
a way as to keep Ryan's and her own nature hidden.

Reesha was a very good listener. She asked gentle questions that showed she was paying attention but did not
pry into areas Carissa wanted to avoid. It was a skill honed when the singer was still forced to sleep with her
patrons, but she could practice it with pleasure when she wanted to put someone at ease. When the dishes were
cleared, Reesha began telling Carissa some of her own past. The singer had Gypsy blood, which explained her
exotic looks as well as the wild sensuality of some of her music. Usually, the tribes were very insular, and if
Reesha had been full-blooded, her talents would have been reserved for her people. But Reesha's father had
gone against tradition, marrying an outsider. If he had just taken the woman as a lover, no one would have
cared. But when he married her, the tribe cast him out until he should come to his senses. Eventually, he did,
leaving Reesha's mother with three young children.

Reesha's mother was luckier than most in that she owned a small house of her own. When her husband left her,
she had to move out of the house and let it, but the rent gave her just enough money to find cheap lodgings for
herself and her children and to put food on the table. She worked when and as she could, but the grief of her
husband's desertion took its toll, and she died when Reesha was just fourteen. The girl was left with little choice.
Even though the children inherited their mother's house, they were too young to avoid being cheated out of it.
Reesha had learned to sing from her father, and her voice was good enough that she found work in a dance
hall. At first, she had had to rely on patrons to act as protectors and to finance the clothing she needed and the
lessons she insisted on. She used her wages to support her younger sister and brother and sold her body to
support herself. It took years, but she finally gained independence. Her sister was married to a shopkeeper, and
her brother was a tailor. She had done well by them, but it had cost her dearly. It took many years for her to
gain acceptance for her voice alone, and still the owner of the dance hall would try to set her up with wealthy
young men. At least this employer valued her talent too much to try to force her into his bed.

"Do you wish that things had been different? That you could have trained for the classical stage?"

Reesha shrugged. "I enjoy going to the opera occasionally, but even there it would have been the same. The
patrons would have been richer perhaps. I could have been choosier, but I still would have been kept, perhaps
even in a more restrictive cage. Here at least I can perform my own music, and I can have real friends who do
not plot behind my back to steal my patron, or my role."

"I didn't realize it was so hard for the classical musicians. I would have thought talent was enough."

"A few come from wealthy families, but all women are used in one way or another. Or do you consider being
forced into marriage less of an evil than merely being forced to sleep with a man?"

"Well, at least having to just sleep with a man isn't a life sentence."

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Reesha laughed. She took Carissa's hand and stroked her fingers. "And some few of us, we manage to escape
both traps, at least for a little time." The singer leaned forward and kissed Carissa lightly on the lips. They
looked into each other's eyes. "What do you want?" Reesha asked.

"I want you." Carissa's voice was husky. "I want to make love with you, but I want more than that."

"Greedy, are you?"

Carissa flushed. "I want to be friends. I don't just want a night of passion. I want…"

Reesha smiled, very pleased with Carissa. "I would like that as well. Some of my friends, musicians, they are
having a party tonight to sing and play new music just for one another. Would you like to go?"

"If I wouldn't be in the way."

"No, you would not be because I think you would enjoy the music itself. I do warn you that musicians are the
biggest flirts in the world."

Carissa laughed. "That, too, would be enjoyable."

The room they met in was large, but drafty and filled with smoke. Carissa couldn't tell if it was a warehouse or
a tavern that had gone out of business. There was shabby furniture, chairs and couches, tables with mended
legs, and one corner of the room was curtained off as a bedroom. Yet there was so much energy and pure joy
that Carissa felt high with the emotions around her. She and Reesha had stopped at a tavern and bought four
bottles of wine, a gift that was well appreciated.

The one fine piece in the room was a piano that looked as if it was cared for better than any of Ryan's expensive
things. The man who sat at it looked as unkempt as the rest of the room. He needed a shave, and his clothing
was patched in many places. His hands were deformed by rheumatism, but he could still play was well as
anyone Carissa had ever heard. She wondered what it cost him in pain, but she could see that it was worth the
price to him.

The assortment of instruments was as eclectic as the furniture. They ranged from strings to an ocarina. The one
thing the musicians had in common was they were all skilled at their craft. When Carissa and Reesha entered,
there was a string quintet playing the music of Brahms. Then the pianist and a violinist played a lovely sonata
by Schumann.

When there was a break in the music, Reesha introduced Carissa to the musicians. Carissa realized that some of
them had seen her in the dance hall the week before, and they assumed that she was a working girl. They
teased Reesha about her new friend, but there was nothing spiteful in the teasing, even if it would have had
Carissa blushing had she been capable of it. For a while, snatches of music, original compositions were played
and criticized. Carissa startled some of the musicians by offering an opinion. When they turned to look at her,
she felt that she was back in her mother's parlor receiving a reprimand for speaking out of turn. But Reesha
laughed and squeezed her arm commenting that Carissa had lots of hidden talents. The men and women
laughed and actually listened to Carissa, considering her opinion to be that of the potential audience.

Then the pianist played a work of his own. Carissa was completely enthralled. It held a wild kind of rhythm to

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it that she had never heard before, yet the lines of it were deeply romantic. She wasn't sure when Reesha's arm
slipped around her waist, but she leaned into the other woman and let the music take her. She felt it touch a
wildness in herself, a place where she was pure hunter and all that mattered was the wild chase. When the
music wound to its end, she felt her senses heightened, as she did when Ryan trained her, yet the dragon within
seemed to be as sated as if she had hunted that night. She turned her head to tell Ryan of her revelation and
then came to herself. Ryan was not here, and she could not bring Ryan here and share this with her. The
thought left her sad.

When Reesha was called on to perform, Carissa added her encouragement. The woman was handed an
instrument Carissa had never seen before. It looked somewhat like a lute but was smaller, with a sharper sound.
Another musician identified it as a mandolin. The songs Reesha sang were pure Gypsy. Some were as wild as
the hunt, others were like the sweet wine of love, and all were sung in a voice that reached inside Carissa and
made her feel each note of passion. They too fed Carissa, filling her with a feeling of completeness that she had
not been aware she had been missing.

The pianist accompanied Reesha in the last two songs that had something of a gypsy flavor, but they were
different somehow, cast for a larger stage. Without the mandolin, Reesha could dance to the music as well as
sing. She moved her body slowly, sensuously, until Carissa felt they were alone together. It was a dance of
seduction, and somehow the dress that had seemed so completely concealing in the restaurant molded itself to
Reesha's body, outlining the beautiful curves of her form. Reesha finished the second song standing inches from
Carissa, her body taunt with sexual tension. Once more, the two women's eyes met, and the desire was raw
between them. Then the applause started and the spell was not broken but was set aside for a more appropriate
moment.

They stayed listening to the music until two hours before dawn. Ryan had taught Carissa how to always be
aware of the sun's position. When Carissa whispered that she had to leave, Reesha got up too. They slipped out
into the predawn darkness, a stillness settling on them as if they had no words after so much passion. It wasn't
until they were in the carriage that Carissa found her voice.

"Do you think that McKay would be insulted if I gave him some money? His hands looked so painful. They
must ache so in this cold dampness."

"He once played for Queen Victoria. He had a career on the classical stage as a young man, but he never had
the tact or subservience to attract the kind of patron who would have kept him from fading to this. For years,
he played in the music halls, until his hands became too stiff for that too."

"But he plays wonderfully, as well as any concert pianist I have ever heard."

"No, he is not quite the musician he once was, although perhaps only another musician could tell. And you
only heard him play a half dozen pieces, Carissa. He no longer has the stamina to practice all day and play all
night. But you are right about one thing: he is proud." There was some bitterness in Reesha's voice, but Carissa
detected that is was neither the man nor Carissa whom she found fault with. Perhaps it was with a society that
would discard such an artist when he could no longer play.

"He has almost nothing now, but what he has, he shares. He never has less than a dozen girls or boys living up
in the loft. He gives them lessons as well as food and shelter. Most run off, looking for an easier life in a brothel
or as a thief, but a few with talent stay long enough to learn. They are used to a hard life, Carissa, but they have
no discipline to bend to a task master such as music."

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"Did you study with him?"

"I was a professional for many years before I met him, but I have learned much from him over the years. I and
many of the other musicians in the area make sure he has food. Corwin, the man who owns that dance hall I
work at pays the rent on that place, but we worry what will happen when the owner comes back from Europe
and finds that such a large property is being let for such a pittance."

"The place is falling apart. How could anyone expect to get much rent for it?"

"How do you think the poor live, Carissa? A space like that could be rented to a dozen families, each of them
paying what Corwin does."

"Oh. Ryan is teaching me about the world, but I still have so much to learn." Carissa looked at Reesha. "McKay
has a right to his pride, but if I arranged coal to be delivered, he wouldn't object would he?"

"No. If you want me to arrange it, I will say it is someone who wishes to be a patron to his students. And if you
do want to help those girls…"

"Yes, I very much would like to."

"Then perhaps you have some old gowns or dresses. When they audition they need something pretty to dress
in. I donate some of my old things, but I can't afford to give up a dress after just one season, and I am older, so
my things don't suit them so well."

Carissa smiled. "I'll pack up some things and bring them next time I see you. I left most of my gowns in
England, but I have a few that I no longer really care for."

"Thank you."

"Reesha, those last two songs you sang, were they Gypsy songs as well?"

"They are from a new opera called Carmen, about a Gypsy woman. It was performed in Paris last year for the
first time. You've asked me if I wouldn't have preferred a classical career, and I think this one work alone makes
me regret that I could not train for the stage." Reesha smiled, very little regret evident on her face.

"Carmen? What is the story?"

"It is about a woman who falls in love for a time with a man who would cage her. She seduces a soldier, not
knowing what danger lurks beneath the uniform. She is forced to leave him because of his possessiveness, and
in the end, he kills her."

Carissa sat still for a moment, thinking of the hidden danger she represented to this woman whom she was
coming to like so much. Perhaps it would be better to step back from this, to let Reesha continue in her life
without tangling her in Alyssa's and Ryan's conflict. The words of good-bye were on Carissa's lips, but then
they were at Reesha's lodgings, and Reesha silenced her with a kiss before slipping out into the cold night.

They had been lovers for four months now, meeting almost weekly. There was a tenderness between them that
Carissa cherished. If Reesha had been very sure of herself as a lover, teaching Carissa things even Ryan had not,

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she was also enduringly vulnerable. That she had fallen in love with Carissa was very clear; yet she knew from
the first that Ryan would always have Carissa's first loyalty, have the first place in her heart. There was a
fatalism in Reesha, much as the Gypsy Carmen in the opera who accepted that she would die when she read
her fortune in the cards. Reesha would accept what Carissa would give her and never ask for more. It was
Carissa who was determined that Reesha should have much more. When Carissa had confessed her feelings to
Ryan, Ryan had smiled and said that she expected no less from Carissa then that she should care for her own.

Carissa leaned down and kissed Reesha's cheek softly. She did not want to wake her, for their lovemaking had
woken another appetite in Carissa, and Carissa did not yet want to teach Reesha about her true nature. It was
getting harder and harder not to feed on Reesha's blood when they made love. It was like denying the other
half of the passion that was so powerful between them. Yet the denial itself gave Carissa pleasure as she felt her
control over her demon strengthening with each conflict. She would give into the hunger only when she was
absolutely sure that she alone was in complete control. That this might have been Ryan's purpose in
encouraging the relationship never occurred to Carissa. She knew only the pleasure of the lovemaking, the joy
of the friendship, and the growing feeling of confidence.

Carissa dressed quickly and slipped out of the bedroom. She really did need to hunt before returning home.
Tomorrow there would be meetings with Ryan's and her new business partners, and the night after, they had
accepted an invitation to a ball. And every night except those Carissa spent with Reesha, there were the lessons
Ryan pounded into Carissa.

It was a foggy night, the warmer spring weather doing little to lessen the chill of the cold tendrils of mist that
invaded the land almost nightly. Carissa was glad that there was a good tavern only a few doors down from
Reesha's lodgings where the coachman could wait comfortably enough. As she passed the window, she signaled
him that she would be a while yet and watched until she saw him nod in understanding. He was a protective
sort whom Ryan had chosen for both his strength and intelligence. He knew her nature and knew better than
to interfere in the hunt, but if she needed help he would come to her aid as best he could. What debt of loyalty
he owed Ryan, Carissa did not know, but she trusted him because Ryan did, and he in turn appreciated
Carissa's concern for his comfort.

Carissa stretched her senses, almost like a cat stretching, extending her claws into the fabric of the night. She
moved away from the noisy tavern so that she could pick up the small sounds of the prey scuttling from place
to place. All around her, the heat of blood sparkled like red ornaments on a Christmas tree. She quickly blocked
out the small sparks of life: the mice and other small animals being hunted by the cats and dogs. She wished
them well as they stalked one another through the alleys of the town. She closed her mind to the slumbering
forms in the houses around her. They were inaccessible to her, barred from the hunt not by the locks on their
doors but by the conviction of the sanctity of their homes.

Carissa turned toward the wharves where there would always be activity of some sort. She could see, feel the
men moving between the warehouses: thieves and guards and smugglers. The pull of the prey was strong in
that direction, and her feet started to move silently on the cobbles as she slipped into the deep shadows. This,
too, Ryan was teaching her: how to become one with the night. She had moved only a few steps when she
realized there was prey closer still. There, in an alley, she heard the cries of a child. She turned swiftly and
darted down one street and then another until she had come almost full circle. Her night vision revealed the
scene clearly enough. A girl, barely pubescent was thrown back on the ground, her two would-be rapists
fumbling with their trousers as she lay sobbing. Her clothing was torn, exposing her bruised flesh to the night.

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"Now, why would you boys choose a child when you could have a woman?" Carissa asked in seductive tones
that hid her rage. She took a deep breath, commanding all of her control. These two, these two she would hurt
as they would hurt this child, but not with rage. Ryan had taught her the price of her anger. Even these deaths
she would not have on her conscience.

"Well now, sweet," one man answered drunkenly, "if you have but some patience, we have enough for you
too."

The man's accent startled Carissa. She had expected him to be a ruffian, speaking in the barely understandable
accent of the poorer class. In the darkness of the alley, Carissa could see his blood glowing with the heat of his
arousal, but she could not make out how he was dressed.

"And why would I wait for second best?" Carissa countered with a sniff. She started to turn away disdainfully,
and the other man jumped to stop her. He grabbed her arm and pushed her back against the alley wall.

"You'll wait your turn, slut, or we will teach you some manners."

Carissa saw the glint of a knife as he slipped the blade from where it had been hidden in the waistband of his
trousers. She did not struggle but did not cower either. He looked at her face rather puzzledly and was caught
by her eyes. It was no effort to catch this one: it took little to overcome a bully's will. He whimpered once, and
then his eyes went blank as he sagged against the wall. Carissa stepped around him to where his companion
was once again intent on his victim.

The girl had not been paralyzed with fear as Carissa thought. She had sprung up in the momentary distraction
Carissa had provided. Now she was trying to dart around her assailant, but there was no room in the narrow
alley. The man had her by the arm and all but lifted her feet off the ground as he threw her back. In a second,
Carissa was behind him, her hand tangled in his hair as she drew his head back. He let out a startled oath.
There was no time to struggle as a well-placed kick brought him to his knees. Carissa glimpsed the girl dart
past them both and ran out into the night. Then her teeth closed on the man's throat, and she bit with malicious
pleasure. His scream was like music inflaming Carissa's demon. "Yessssss," it cried, relishing the man's pain.
Carissa exerted her control to keep from ripping the man's throat out, and then she drank the bitter blood
tainted with the man's fear.

Carissa left the first man whimpering on the ground. He had soiled himself, and her sensitive nose wrinkled in
disgust. She moved to his companion who sat with glazed eyes against the alley wall. She wanted him aware so
that he too could feel the fear, the pain of being the prey. Just as his victim had suffered, so would he. She
slapped him hard enough to rock him back. Awareness came into his eyes, with fear snapping at its heels. She
let him see her nature, her mouth still stained with his companion's blood. He whimpered, too much a coward
even to try to fight.

"Please…"he begged, and Carissa felt pleasure as he cowered. Again, she exerted her control. Too much of this
kind of pleasure would be like a drug: she could be mastered by it as surely as she could be mastered by the
demon of her blood lust. She waited until she felt some detachment, the pleasure fading even as the man's fear
grew. Then she bit with deliberate pain, drinking in his fear as if it were bitter coffee. She felt a mild distaste for
the coppery taste of the blood, and she deliberately cultivated her dislike, linking it in memory with the bitter
medicine her nanny would make her drink as a child. She could feed like this when she needed to, but she
would not allow herself to enjoy it.

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She drained both men more then she normally would. They would be weak and sick for days, but they would
not die. Carissa wished she had Ryan's skill at building memories, for she would like to build a direct link
between their illness and their propensity for rape. But it would take many years, even centuries to master that
skill. The men would not remember her. Their last memory would be of the girl they tried to rape and then of
the pain that followed. Hopefully, it would be a strong enough association so that they would lose their taste for
rape. Given that they were cowards enough to choose a child as a victim, perhaps the fear would be enough.

Carissa rose, stretching once more, but this time with a satiated languor. She took a moment to compose herself
and then began to turn toward the mouth of the alley. She froze only a moment when her senses alerted her to
the fact that she was not alone. She blessed Ryan for her painful lessons and then pulled her will around her like
a cloak.

"Good evening," Carissa greeted the vampire, smiling inwardly to see him start in surprise. She could just make
out the deep purple swirls that were his blood as he stood in the deepest shadows.

"Good evening," he answered, recovering his aplomb quickly. "You are Lady Wolf, I presume. May I introduce
myself?" He stepped out of the shadows, and Carissa saw that he was an exceedingly handsome man dressed in
the height of good tailoring. "My name is Edmund Trisk," he said, bowing to Carissa.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Trisk," Carissa answered, following his formal style. "Tell me, what brings you
here tonight?"

"I sensed the hunt was up, and I admit, I was very curious to meet you. Martin's report has made us all curious,
although, I must say, Martin's description of you does not do you the least bit of justice."

"Well, Martin," Carissa spoke his name as she might that of a wayward child or an unsatisfactory servant, "was
a trifle preoccupied when we met. I am glad to see that some of my neighbors have better manners than he."

"Please accept my apologies, on behalf of the queen. She was not in the least pleased in the way he handled the
encounter."

"Apologies accepted."

Edmund turned a bit at a sound from the alley. "You left them alive," he said, again revealing surprise.

"Yes, of course. There is no need to litter the district with corpses attracting the attention of the human
authorities unnecessarily."

Edmund smiled his appreciation. "Surely you must know how unusual it is for one of your short experience to
have such control. I salute you, my lady, for your skill."

"If I have skill, it is because I have a skillful teacher. Surely you must know," Carissa said, deliberately
mimicking Edmund's words, "that my lord would not leave me to hunt alone unless she felt I had the proper
training."

Edmund half bowed again, offering Carissa his arm. She took it after only the smallest hesitation. They began
to stroll away from the alley and its rather horrid smells.

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"I am rather surprised that one of Lord Wolfs pets would treat her prey so ungently. I smelled their fear even
before their blood."

Carissa shrugged, choosing to ignore his attempt to bait her by calling her Ryan's pet, a term generally
reserved for a human kept by a vampire for sex and feeding. "I can be gentle when the mood suits me, or when
the prey is more interesting. These two served their purpose, but I was in no mood to trifle with them."

"And do you enjoy trifling with prey?"

"Sometimes, sometimes the hunt is enough, but other times there are other pleasures to be gleaned from an
interesting human."

Edmund laughed. "I really do think that the queen would enjoy meeting you."

"I would enjoy meeting her as well," Carissa lied. "I am sure that Ryan will arrange such a meeting when she
feels it is appropriate. Tell me, Mr. Trisk, do you often hunt so far from your territory?" If this man thought he
could trap her with double meanings and innuendo, he would learn differently. Ryan might not have the kind
of formal following that the queen did, but Alyssa herself respected Ryan's authority.

"In all honesty, my lady, I came here strictly in the hopes of meeting you. I would not trespass on Lord Wolfs
preserve without her permission." It was a pretty fiction, since Ryan did not claim a territory. Carissa did not
challenge either of Edmund's untruths. Let him think her ignorant.

"I am glad to hear that. Ryan can have such an unpredictable temper, and I'm afraid that she has already taken
a very strong dislike to Martin. I would not want to see more conflict arising between us and our neighbors."

"Neither would I." Those words at least rang with sincerity.

"My carriage is just around the corner here. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Trisk."

"The pleasure was all mine, Lady Wolf. But would you not allow me to escort you home?"

"Thank you for your offer, but this close to dawn, I fear it would leave you with too long a journey to
accomplish if you detoured to see me home. Thank you, though, for your gracious offer."

Carissa smiled as Edmund bowed once more over her hand and withdrew. The coachman had come out as
soon as he had seen Carissa approaching, and he stood impassively holding the door of the carriage for her.
Carissa saw him breathe a sigh of relief as she climbed into the vehicle alone. She gave him a wink and settled
into her seat. She, too, felt like sighing with relief, but she would not until she was back in Ryan's arms.
Edmund Trisk certainly had better manners then Martin had, but Carissa could sense that he was infinitely
more dangerous. She was not sure she could win a battle of wills with him, and she was very glad that she had
not been put to that kind of test. That she had been tested, she did not doubt, but in what manner, she could
not even begin to understand.

9

Travels

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"I didn't want him to accompany me home because I thought that could be a tacit invitation for him to enter,
Ryan."

"I'm glad you thought of that, my dear. All in all, you handled Trisk very well."

"What exactly do you think he was sent to learn?"

"Several things. He now knows you are intelligent and not easily ruffled. He knows you have enough self-
control at your very young age to control your feeding. That is no mean feat, and probably his biggest surprise.
And he knows you can be ruthless, something that is respected by vampires."

"So I gave away more than I thought."

"There was no way to avoid giving that much away. You could scarcely pretend to be a brainless, self-indulgent
ninny. He would not have believed that in any case."

"Why not?"

"Alyssa knows me too well to know I would not make someone like that. The only thing I would have preferred
you to have done differently is letting him know that you detected him. It would have been better if you had
pretended to be startled by his appearance. I don't want Alyssa to know the extent of your talents. Still, he
probably discounted your spotting him as a fluke, and I would be surprised if he confessed to Alyssa that you
were able to find him in the shadows."

"How did he find me?" Carissa asked, worried that she had already led her enemies to Reesha.

"I think he told the truth there: he sensed you hunting. Trisk is fairly skilled himself, but he could not have
spotted you in the district just like that. But the smell of blood is a powerful lure to a vampire, and to a sadist
like Trisk, the smell of fear is equally potent."

"Then you don't think he followed me from Reesha's lodgings?"

"Did you sense him?"

"No, but that doesn't mean he could not have been there."

"Actually, Carissa, I think it does. You were fully alert: hungry and on the hunt. Your senses were fully
extended. If you could sense him after you fed and were satiated, then you would certainly have sensed him
when you were hunting. He could not have been close enough to you to sense you, so he could not have
followed you."

Carissa breathed a sigh of relief. She had been waiting to tell Ryan the story all day. Ryan was not home when
Carissa returned the night before, and she had not returned when the sun forced Carissa to seek her bed. Ryan
would sometimes stay out during the early morning light for special meetings, or go out in the afternoons
before Carissa could face the day. When Carissa woke, Ryan was still not home, and she did not arrive until her
business associates were already present. It was a great relief when the men finally left and Carissa could tell
Ryan of her adventures the night before.

"You are worried about Reesha, aren't you?"

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"Yes, for a variety of reasons. I don't know how to protect her, Ryan."

"I'm not sure that you can, or even that it is your right to."

"What do you mean?"

"Reesha lives in a world that is full of dangers, my dear, and she is much better able to face them than you are.
Where do you think she came from? She has always had to deal with the thieves, the extortionists, and those
who would use her in every way possible. And she has survived. I admire her greatly for what she has
accomplished." Carissa looked surprised.

"Did you think I would let you get involved with someone and not find out about her? Or are you surprised
that I admire Reesha?"

Anger flared in Carissa's eyes. "Am I some child, that you need to inquire about my playmates?"

"No, but I have been gone from this area a long time, Carissa. Reesha could have been one of Alyssa's agents. I
do trust you, you know, or I would not have encouraged you at all. If Reesha had been someone looking to
extort money, or to use you in some way, I trusted you to deal with that. My only concern was that she not be
involved with Alyssa's set, and she is not."

Carissa nodded her understanding. "I know Reesha is strong, Ryan. She told me about her life and how she
survived. I know she can deal with everyday dangers, but what if I lead danger to her doorstep?"

"You will have to be careful that you do not. As long as she is thought of as your pet, then no one else will touch
her. Believe me when I tell you that none of Alyssa's cadre, including Alyssa herself, would want to offend me
over something as insignificant as a pet. Yes, I know, Reesha is not that to you, but they do not know that. For
now, they don't even know she exists. My protection is not insignificant, Carissa."

"I know, but it is not just the vampires I worry about."

"Then what is it?"

"What happens to Reesha when she gets too old to perform? How will she live then? If I were a man, I could
offer her protection…"

"If you were a man, she would not want you."

Carissa looked down, a smile playing over her lips. "Yes, I know, but it is you who have shown me just how
little security a woman of Reesha's class has in today's world."

"Carissa, do you think that Reesha would want to be kept by anyone, man or woman?"

"No, she would hate it. She would hate being put in a cage." Carissa again thought of the Gypsy in the opera
who chose death rather then having her spirit chained.

"Then respect that. Enjoy what she can share with you, but let her live her own life."

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"She loves me, Ryan. I did not know how that would make me feel. It hurts that I cannot love her in the same
way. That she will never come first in my heart, as I do in hers."

"She knew that when you became lovers and she accepted it."

"That does not mean she is not hurt by it."

"No, it doesn't, but you cannot change what you feel for her. Even if you were to leave me—"

"No, never!"

"Even if you were to leave me, my dear one, you could not change how you feel for her. Yet you must realize
how much you do give her. I think she is happy with her bargain, my dove. You must learn to accept that, just
as you have accepted what I can and do offer you."

Carissa nodded. "But isn't there any way I can help her? Help make sure she has a future? I've told you about
that musician, McKay, and how he is forced to live, and he is one of the luckier ones."

"I know he is. I have purchased the old warehouse where he lives. You can tell Reesha that she need not worry
that he will be evicted or the rent raised."

"Ryan! Thank you."

Ryan pulled Carissa into her lap and accepted the kiss that was given in thanks. For a while, the two were
absorbed in each other. It had been some days since they made love, and it was an appetite that both shared.
Ryan slipped her hand up Carissa's skirts, caressing her bare thighs while her lips explored her lover's cleavage.
Carissa sighed with pleasure, letting her senses contract around Ryan and herself. She moaned when Ryan
undid her buttons and slipped the bodice down her shoulders, baring her breasts. In the firelight, her skin
looked as rosy as if she were still human. Her breasts rose and fell as Ryan licked over the tops of the soft flesh
and then pressed them apart to bury her face between them. Carissa stood only long enough to let her gown
fall to the floor. Then she was back in Ryan's arms, pressing her naked body against her lover's.

Ryan loosed Carissa's hair and tangled her fingers in it. "You know, I never said you couldn't help ensure
Reesha's future. You said she has some money put aside. Ask her if she would like help investing it. I will ensure
that her investment grows."

"Thank you, beloved."

"Good. Now that that is settled, hand me the third portrait on the mantel."

"Ryan!"

"You have been pestering me to continue the story," Ryan's lips formed a wicked smile. She had ample
evidence as to just how aroused Carissa was. She loved playing this game with her, pushing Carissa to the
limits of her sexuality. She gave no sign of how the scent of Carissa's arousal was filling her own senses until it
was all she could do to keep from ravishing her lover there on the hearthstone.

"Damn you, Ryan. Some day, you will go too far."

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"And then what will you do, my dove?"

Carissa glared at Ryan and got up to get the portrait. As she stood by the mantel, the flames in the fireplace
licked up the chimney as the flames of her need were flaring along Carissa's nerves. She turned and handed the
picture to Ryan but did not return to her lap. Instead, she sat on the floor at Ryan's feet, purposely looking
away from her as if ignoring her. Ryan slipped her booted foot between Carissa's thighs and rubbed her
wetness. Carissa gasped and spun around on her knees, only to find Ryan absorbed in studying the portrait.
Carissa moved farther away and settled down to hear the story.

"I never did find out exactly how many years I was buried—Well, I can't really say buried alive, since we are
not of the living. When the ground finally eroded and I was set free, I was mad. Mad with hunger; mad with
rage. If Glyn had still been alive, I would have torn her limb from limb, but she was long dead. I felt cheated. I
wanted her to know the kind of pain I had. How dare she die a peaceful death when she had condemned me to
so many years of suffering?"

"Are you sure her death was so peaceful? Whatever words she used to convince her husband, the church, and
whomever else that you were a monster, I suspect those words cost her a very great deal, Ryan. She may have
died in her bed, but how many bitter years did she have to live with her lies?"

"I don't know. She was over sixty when she died: a respectable age. Her tombstone bore nothing else besides the
years of her birth and death, so perhaps you are right about what it cost her to denounce me, but I will never
know. And in those days of my madness, nothing would have been enough to pay for her betrayal, for in all
honesty, that was the bitter gall that laced the years of pain."

"If I ever want to torture one of our kind, I will bury them as I was, without even a shroud to protect their body
from the burrowing insects. By the time I was free, I had nothing left. I was weak beyond even human
standards. It took me days to catch a single rabbit and drink its blood. And that was as a thimble of water to a
woman dying of thirst. I will not describe those first weeks. In some ways, they were as bad as being buried. As
soon as I was strong enough, I left the district. I hated Glyn, and I hated all her seed, and I was afraid I would
wreck my vengeance on all her house. I wanted more then anything to slay all of her blood, down to the last
babe in arms. I wanted them all dead and gone from this earth."

"What stopped you?"

"I had promised Brynn. It was all that I had left of my sanity, my promise to the woman I had loved."

Carissa came back to Ryan, kneeling by her and hugging her tight. Ryan's body seemed to be wracked with
tears, yet her eyes were dry. Vampires could not cry, but their souls could bleed. For a long time, Carissa just
held Ryan.

"I left a trail of dead all the way to the coast." Ryan finally continued in a voice devoid of all inflection. "I don't
think I could have controlled myself even if I had wanted to. All those years without sustenance, I could have
survived that, but to constantly have to heal my body, that took every ounce of my strength. And so I fed, and
so I killed, and I did not care whom. I began to love the hunt again. I hunted for sport, not just to feed, killing
with a savage joy. Some of my victims looked as if they had been ravaged by a wolf, some slain by robbers.
People began to become afraid to travel anytime after dusk, and so my prey dwindled to a trickle, and I was
hunted up and down the coast road. But they did not know what kind of monster they were looking for, so I
could sit at night in a tavern and laugh in my beer as the people whispered in hushed tones about the savage

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wolf of the Saxon coast."

"And then I had my first close call. I had just killed a young couple. The boy was about twenty, but the girl no
more than sixteen, and she was with child." Ryan looked in Carissa's eyes as if she expected a blow. What she
saw there was not approval but understanding, and so she took a breath and continued. "I was languorous,
sated with blood and with the power of their emotions as well, for vampires can feed on strong emotions as well
as on blood itself. I didn't even hear the hoofbeats. I was going through the couple's pitiful belongings when I
heard the shout. I looked up and saw a troop of soldiers bearing down on me. In an instant, I was in the forest
becoming one with the darkness. They searched for hours; they were so enraged by my act. I was trapped there
in the open while the sun rode its course toward dawn. For if I could not be seen, I could be heard, for the
ground was covered with a litter of fallen leaves."

"The hunt finally moved away from me, and I was able to slip away. I had to move slowly, cautiously, so as not
to make a sound. I thought of killing a few of the guards to make a hole in their search, but quite honestly, I
was afraid. What if one of them called out and the others found me? What if they failed to kill me and buried
me once more? That was the fear that finally drove me to prudence. I found a deep ravine to hide in that day,
and the next night, I returned to the cave where I kept my things. There, I made plans to travel to Europe."

"How did you solve the problem of traveling across the sea in daylight?"

"It turned out not to be such a problem after all. I simply told the captain that I was seasick and that my servant
would attend to my needs."

Carissa laughed. She smoothed the hair from Ryan's forehead and kissed the top of her head.

"Would you get me some wine, my dove?"

Carissa rose and went to the table. She filled the two waiting goblets and brought them back to Ryan. She
could feel her lover's eyes on her bare body, and so Carissa slowed her stride and swayed her hips as she had
seen the streetwalkers do when they were trawling for a customer. Ryan laughed softly and pulled her close
again, kissing Carissa's breasts before taking a deep swallow of wine.

"You are very good to me, my dove. Don't ever think that I do not value you more then all else in my life."

Ryan's words took Carissa's breath away. She leaned into Ryan's arms and savored the moment.

"Anyway, the journey itself would not have been unpleasant but for two things. The first was that the small,
dark cabin I had been assigned was too much like my grave. I spent the whole trip in a half-mad daze. I think I
would have run out into the sunlight to die if it were not for the fact that I was such a stubborn bastard. I had
brought two dozen candles with me, and my servant's instructions were to keep one lit at all times. But I
realized within the first day that I should have brought more. So I played games with myself, leaving the
candle unlit and telling myself that I could light it anytime I wanted to. I would count, telling myself, 'just a
hundred more,' and then I could light it. It was a dismal way to spend seven days and nights, but I survived it."

"What was the other thing?"

"Oh, my servant decided to rob and kill me. I'm not sure if he intended it all along or not, but the fifth night he
came in trying to be soundless. That is what alerted me. If he had moved normally, I wouldn't have been

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suspicious of his coming into my cabin to check on me. But he tried to sneak in, so I quickly snuffed the candle
and pretended to be asleep. His night sight was not bad, but nothing compared to mine of course, so when he
drew his dagger and brought it down to stab me, I was ready for him. I drank his blood, feeling that perhaps it
was better that way. I would not need to hunt immediately after we docked. I listened and made sure there was
no one on deck, and then I carried his body up the narrow stairs and lowered it overboard so it would not make
a loud noise. When the captain asked me what had become of my servant, I told him I had no idea. I was
below, sick in my cabin. How could I know what had happened on deck?"

"He believed you?"

Ryan shrugged. "He had no choice but to believe me. He had no proof of what had happened, and really, if I
had wanted to make an issue of it, I could have accused him of losing my servant."

"We landed in what is now Denmark. Erik of Pomerania had been crowned king a few months before I arrived,
so the year must have been 1398. When the captain came to get me, I pretended to be sicker than I was and
begged him to let me stay on board till I felt stronger. I had to pay him extra. I'm not sure what he thought;
perhaps he realized I had killed my servant, and he was afraid of me. In any case, I went ashore after nightfall
and found an inn not too far from the docks. For some days, I stayed there, again telling the owner that I had
been sick at sea and needed time to recover. He didn't really care, as long as I paid him on time. At night I
explored the city and hunted. I had learned caution and so killed rarely. It was a fairly large port, but with my
dark coloring, I was marked as a stranger, and the people were not so friendly to a foreigner. It took some time
before I could journey south. I commissioned a covered caravan like the one I had used to travel at home, but I
still needed to find servants. My experience with the man on the ship had left me feeling leery of putting myself
in anyone's power again. It was the harsh laws of the district that provided me with a solution."

Ryan had wondered what the cages at the crossroads were for when she had passed them before. This night,
they were full, but not of animals as she had supposed. The victims were half naked, and their clothing was in
tatters where they had been whipped. Now they huddled in the cold night air trying to survive the harsh
weather. It was already, well into spring, but some mornings there was still frost on the ground. Ryan's first
thought was that here was an opportunity to have an easy meal. No one would care if these prisoners were
dead in the morning, but there were other possibilities here, and Ryan was not really hungry. She inspected the
prisoners from the deep shadows. There were five of them in the three cages that hung suspended from the
gnarled limbs of the giant oak. Huddled as they were, Ryan could not really see much of them, but she had
other senses to rely on. She was surprised that two of them were women. She could tell their approximate ages
as well from how strongly their blood flowed. One prisoner was little more than a boy: a sorry bundle huddled
against the bars sobbing softly.

Ryan left the prisoners where they were. If they died, they died, but she suspected all of them were strong
enough to last several days, for she had no illusions as to whether they would be fed or even watered. It was still
quite early, even if the sky was fully dark. Ryan slipped back into town and made her plans. She went first to a
smith who would ask no questions and had him make several collars for her, buying lengths of chain to go with
them. Then she went to buy food, something she had not done in years. She bought loaves of bread as well as
flour, meal, beans, and even some dried meat. She added a small keg of the harsh liquor that was favored in
those parts and had everything delivered to her wagon. It was time to leave this town, and she had just come
upon a way to recruit some servants who might be loyal to more than her gold.

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Ryan actually waited an additional day to leave. Let them taste hunger and thirst, she thought. They will be all
the more appreciative of their lives when they were rescued. That they would be slaves, at least until they
proved their worth, would still be preferable to the death they now faced. Slavery was common, and many
servants were bond servants: men and women forced to sell themselves or their children because they had
acquired debts they could not pay. Ryan left the inn in the late afternoon. If the innkeeper wondered why
someone would leave so late, he kept his mouth shut. Ryan's personal baggage consisted of a few changes of
clothing as well as the gems she had kept hidden all those years. Some of these she had traded for fine furs: a
product she felt she could sell as she traveled south.

Ryan drove past the crossroads without stopping to look at the cages. She kept going about half a mile, and
then pulled the caravan off the road and hid it carefully in the forest. The horses were very skittish around her,
but she managed to hobble them without getting kicked. Then she moved off and waited until the night was
completely black. She walked back to the crossroads, moving under the trees, not wanting anyone to see her
approach. It was too late for most travelers, but there might be some thieves about. She rather hoped that there
were so she could leave their bodies in the cages in place of those she took, but the night was silent, and the only
thing Ryan saw was a lone wolf. The two circled each other warily, one giving the other the respect due a fellow
hunter. Then the gray form slipped silently into the night, and Ryan continued on her way.

Ryan left the collars and chains in a heap by the base of the tree. She approached the first cage and was not
surprised when neither occupant moved. By now, they were too weak to have energy for much. Ryan
considered picking the lock, a skill she had mastered years ago as a thief, but she wanted to make more of an
impression, so she broke it with her bare hands. The sound of the iron cracking woke the occupants of all of the
cages, and they watched her as she lifted first one and then the other form from the first cage. She laid them
under the tree and then moved to the second cage.

"Are you death?" asked the man in a harsh whisper.

"That all depends," Ryan answered. She broke the lock negligently while looking the man in the eyes. He
cowered back from her, but when she reached past him to lift the boy out of the cage, he tried to dart past her
to run off into the night. Ryan reached out one hand and grabbed him by the scruff. She threw him against the
tree and then turned back to the boy, lifting him out almost gently.

As Ryan turned to the third cage, the first man called out softly. "Not him. He's a murderer."

Ryan looked at the last prisoner with interest. He was an extremely powerful man, and neither the whipping
that left his flesh bloody and torn nor the three days of starvation had done much to break his strength. He
kneeled in the cage facing Ryan, but there was no supplication in him. He knelt because the cage was not tall
enough for him to stand.

"Is it true? Are you a murderer?"

"Aye."

"Who did you kill?" Ryan asked with interest.

"I killed the snot of boy, the headman's nephew."

"Was it a fight?"

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"Phaw, he couldn't hold an ax even when he was sober."

"Then why did you kill him?"

"He raped my sister's daughter. When I heard, I went to the tavern and pulled him outside and broke him with
my bare hands. May his balls rot and the hounds of hell mount him like a bitch."

"Sounds like a good reason to me." Ryan broke the lock to the man's cage and turned her back to him, going
back to the huddled forms under the tree. She could hear him climbing out behind her. If he turned and ran,
she would let him go, but if he had enough honor to avenge his niece, then Ryan suspected he would stay to
pay off his debt to his rescuer.

Ryan smiled when she heard him approaching, and she turned and offered him one of the water bottles she
had brought. Then she lifted one of the women and began feeding her tiny sips of water. When the man knelt
next to her and began doing the same for the other woman, she knew that he would not only be loyal, but very
valuable indeed, for he had turned to help the woman before he himself had drunk.

"What about me?" whined the first man.

"Wait your turn," growled the giant.

When all five prisoners had drunk, Ryan gave them each a hunk of bread. She warned them to eat slowly, or
they would be sick. Then she began sorting out the chains and collars. The women and boy accepted them as if
they expected nothing else. The first man had to be held, but when Ryan applied enough force on his arm to
grind his bones, he subsided. Ryan turned to the last prisoner.

"Do I need to chain you as well?"

"No." He looked back toward the town. "I have nowhere to go, and I owe you a life."

"Will your niece and sister be safe?"

"They left town even before I was caught. I made sure they wouldn't be followed by staying, but if they see us
all escaped, then they may go after them."

"Then we better give them another reason for your disappearance. Help them away from the tree and gather as
much dry wood as you can."

While the giant did as Ryan asked, she began bringing down the three cages. It took all her strength to bring
the limbs down, but still it was a task no mortal could manage. The tree was centuries old, and Ryan regretted
destroying it, but it was already more than half dead. She piled the cages close to the trunk, laying the broken
limbs over them. The giant piled on more and more dead wood, until the cages were half buried. When Ryan
stove in the top of the barrel of grog, he stopped her a moment. On the north side of the tree was a green
offshoot. This the man tenderly separated and pulled up. Ryan nodded her understanding and approval. The
parent tree would burn, but the offshoot would live, planted in a new site to grow again.

The flames caught immediately, shooting up the trunk. The old wood would burn hot. Ryan hoped it would
burn hot enough to melt the cages as well. It would be days before anyone could look for the bones, and they

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might even believe the fire was hot enough to consume them. Ryan waited only long enough to make sure the
fire was well established.

"Come, we have to be many miles from here by morning."

"They can't travel far in their condition." The giant said nodding at the women and boy.

"I know. I have a wagon not far from here."

The giant nodded and rose, casually lifting one of the women and tossing her over his shoulder. Ryan smiled
and picked up the second woman. The boy staggered along leaning on the giant. He seemed to be less afraid of
the murderer than he was of his rescuer, but then, he should be, Ryan thought. The other man had to be led,
like a whining dog on a leash. Him, Ryan decided, she would be rid of as soon as she could. She had hoped to
get two servants from the five prisoners, but the giant was a bonus she had not expected.

Ryan made the women and boy strip off their soiled clothing before she let them into her clean wagon. She
gave them blankets to wrap in and told them to sleep. The giant had managed to keep himself the cleanest, and
she told him to get in the wagon as well. It would be crowded, but she trusted him with the women. The other
man she did not trust at all.

Ryan took the reins and had the other man sit next to her. She questioned him as she drove back onto the road
and made as good speed as she could south. That he was a liar was apparent in the way his story shifted each
time Ryan asked him about how he came to be in the cage. She finally decided that she would not be doing
anyone a favor if she sold him; he would only rob his new owner as he had his old one. His stench was so
revolting that Ryan could not even bring herself to feed from him. When she got tired of his whining, she
casually broke his neck. She was forced to ride with the body some way, but about an hour before dawn, she
found herself rounding the side of a ravine. At the bottom was a swift-moving river. Ryan tossed him off the
wagon and let the water take him.

The road followed the river, and as the land fell, the river was soon level with the road. Ryan stopped by a ford.
She stretched. It was almost light, and it would take both her and the giant to get the wagon across the swollen
ford. She jumped down off the high seat and went around back to wake her new servant. She wrinkled her
nose when she opened the door. She wished there had been time to make the prisoners wash before she had let
them inside. Well, she would just have to air the wagon out. The giant was awake, but the rest of them still
slept. She certainly wasn't sure how she felt about spending the day with their unwashed bodies in such close
quarters.

"I need your help." Ryan said simply. The man nodded and rose.

Outside he looked around, inhaling the clean air. "The water is running swift for the wagon," he said
doubtfully.

"If you will lead the horses across, I will make sure the back of the wagon isn't taken by the flow."

The man looked at Ryan appraisingly. He remembered how she had broken the iron locks as if they were twigs
and grunted. "I am Octa, Lar's son."

"I am Ryan Wolf."

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"What are you?" Octa asked.

Ryan smiled. "Death."

Octa nodded and went to take the horses. He never asked what had happened to the thief. He did not need to
know. The cold water swirled up around his knees, and he began moving across the ford. The horses were
good, sturdy beasts, which told him that his new master was knowledgeable as well as wealthy, for Octa's folk
never considered it wrong to cheat a Celt. The water tugged at Octa's legs as he waded in farther. The horses
were nervous, and the man kept up a stream of reassurances as he tugged gently on their reins. Twice, when he
felt the horses tense, Octa looked back to see Ryan bracing the wagon against the flow of the river. Luckily, the
bed of the ford was solid with rocks, so although the wheels lurched, they did not stick as they would in mud.
Both the horses and the giant of a man were exhausted by the time they reached the other side of the river. If
Ryan were tired as well, she gave no sign of it.

"They can't go much farther without rest," Octa commented.

"I know. Let's pull up under those trees and camp. There is meal for porridge in that container. I'm sure the
women and the boy are hungry. Make them bathe as well. I need to sleep, but I want you to get started again
after the horses are well rested. Do not, under any circumstances open the back of the wagon while I am
resting. The women can ride with you, or walk along, but I do not wish to be disturbed. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master Wolf."

Ryan smiled at the man's address. She knocked on the back of the wagon and got the rest of the prisoners up.
They were very hungry and thirsty as well. They would need clothing. Ryan gave them each one of her shirts
and hoped they would be worth their keep. She handed Octa a dagger and sword, in case there was trouble,
and then she firmly closed and locked the door. It was already light out, and Ryan had been feeling the
discomfort on her bare skin since they had crossed the ford. The darkness felt like a balm. She had thought that
she would need to light the lamp to keep away the dread that always seemed to assail her in the close dark, but
she fell onto the bunk and slept with no thought at all.

Ryan woke to feel the wagon moving at a steady pace. She sat up and stretched. It was late afternoon, and she
knew the sun would be setting very soon. She opened the small window at the front of the wagon.

"Octa, see if you can find a spot to camp."

"Yes, master," the man answered cheerfully.

It was about half an hour later that the wagon pulled off the road. Ryan could hear the branches brushing
along the roof, and then the wagon came to a halt. The sun was lost behind the tall hills to the west, so Ryan
stepped out of the wagon. In the fading light, she examined the three remaining prisoners. There was fear in
their eyes and even defiance in the boy's, but they seemed reassured by the fact that Octa wore no chains.

Ryan nodded to them. "I need to bathe. While I am doing that, make some dinner. We will talk when I return."

Ryan turned and walked away without another word. If they tried to run away, well, she needed to hunt that
night anyway. The other possibility was that they might try to attack her while she bathed, but that seemed to
be a slim chance. They were in enough awe of her to fear her, but they did not fear her enough to feel

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desperate. When Ryan returned feeling refreshed, she found them all sitting around the campfire. They had
made a gruel with bits of dried meat broken up into it. It smelled savory, and Ryan smiled when she heard the
boy's stomach growl. She was impressed that they had waited for her before they ate. She had not expected
such manners. When she looked quizzically at Octa, he explained.

"We do not eat another man's meat and bread without his blessing master."

"A good custom, Octa. Then please, eat, all of you, with my blessing."

"What… what about you in… master?" One of the women asked. She was a girl, no more than fifteen or so.
She had delicate features and a darker coloring then her comrades. Ryan looked at her half-naked form and
realized she was a very pretty child if somewhat thin from starvation.

"Don't worry about my needs, child, I will take care of them later this night." They all looked at one another,
their eyes wide with awe.

"Now, I rescued you all from death, and I expect to be repaid."

"Are you going to sell us at the slave market?" the boy asked boldly.

"Perhaps, if you displease me. Otherwise, if I find I can trust you, as I have found with Octa here, then I will
remove the collars and you will work for me as freemen, earning a wage. Now, first, tell me your names."

"I'm Clywd," said the boy. The girl was Kelsa, and the older woman was Inga.

"Clywd is not a Saxon name," Ryan commented.

"No, I am Welsh," the boy declared proudly. Ryan hid her smile, forming a liking for the boy.

"You are a long way from Wales, Clywd. How did you come here, and why were you in that cage?"

"I was working on a ship, and the captain sold me when he lost at dice. I was not his slave. He had no right, but
they wouldn't listen to me and sold me at the market."

"And you wouldn't stay bought, would you lad?" Octa asked with understanding.

"I am a free man, born, and I will die a free man. I call no man master." Ryan rather enjoyed the boy's
boldness. She knew the Welsh, of all people, hated slavery. She also suspected that there was more to the boy's
story. Wales was a very long way from the North Sea.

"Well, Clywd, I can understand your wishes, but you do owe me your life."

"Yes, sir."

"Will you serve me then, as a free man?"

Clywd took a deep breath. "Yes sir, but…"

"Yes?"

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"I want to return home someday, sir."

Ryan nodded. "You have my word. Serve me well now, and one day, you will be able to return home."

"Then you have my word that I will serve you well, sir." Ryan smiled and motioned the boy over. She snapped
open the collar around his neck and handed it to him.

"Now, Inga, how came you to be in that cage?"

"My husband accused me of unfaithfulness."

"And for that, they would kill you?" Ryan asked with some surprise.

"Well, not just that. Octa can tell you, my husband was a drunken sot. He would come home and beat me. I…
we had a daughter finally after fours years of marriage. She was… she was my treasure. One night, he came
home very drunk. I was nursing her, but he wanted to lay with me. He would not even wait until I put her
down. He took her from me and threw her into her cradle. In the morning, I found she was dead. He was still
asleep. I was so angry with him, I took his war ax and tried to kill him with it. But I could not swing it. It
slipped from my hands, and the flat of the blade hit him in the groin." Ryan and Octa exchanged a look,
realizing where she had been aiming. "He grabbed me and beat me, and I just kept yelling at him that he killed
my baby, and I would make sure he never sired another. He beat me till I could barely move, and then he left
to get drunk again. Two days later, they came to arrest me. He had told them that the child was not his. He
said I had been unfaithful and had given birth to another man's child in his house. So they locked me in the
cage to die."

There was little inflection in Inga's voice. She sat looking into the fire, her eyes dry as if no more tears could
flow.

"Inga, do you want to die?" Ryan asked. Octa shied away, but there was gentleness in Ryan's voice. She could
see Inga's grief and remembered Brynn's need for death.

"She was only a baby." Inga looked at Ryan pleadingly.

"Yes, I know. But look, now you have a new life. Your husband will never trouble you again. That I promise
you." Octa grunted his agreement. "If you wish to join your baby in death, then I will give you that, but if you
wish to live, to go on to a new life, that is yours as well."

"Death," Inga looked into Ryan's eyes as she addressed her, "who will hold her when she cries and care for her
hurts? Who will make her laugh? Where is she now, my little one?"

"She is in your heart."

Inga looked startled, and then feeling the tears flowing down her face, she bowed her head. "I will serve you,
Death."

Octa moved to comfort the woman, and Ryan turned her attention to Kelsa. "And what of you, little one?"

"I am a thief, sir."

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"I thought they sold thieves as slaves."

"I'm… my mother was raided from across the water. The man who took her, I was his daughter, but his wife
had no room in the house for another slave's child, so they threw me out when I was little. So I became a thief,
and I cut the man who caught me trying to rob him. So they decided I wasn't worth the trouble."

"What kinds of things did you steal, Kelsa?"

"Food mostly. Some wash from the line so I would have clothes. He wanted to make me a pleasure girl at the
inn when he caught me stealing some roots, so I cut him and ran away, but they caught me."

"Kelsa, if I take the collar off, will you promise not to run away? Will you stay and serve me?"

"You won't…?"

"No one will touch you unless you wish to be touched. You have my word."

"Then I will stay, sir."

"Good. You and Inga can sleep in the wagon during the night. Octa, there are enough furs and blankets for
you and Clywd. I want you to take turns watching at night, but if there is any trouble, Clywd, wake Octa
immediately. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Ryan got up. "I am going to hunt. I should be back just before dawn." With that, Ryan disappeared into the
darkness wondering just what she had gotten herself into.

"They gave me back my sanity, Carissa. I had never gotten close to my servants before, but these, these were
more like family. We traveled down the coast to Normandy, and there I began trading again. Octa arranged
with his cousins to provide furs and resins and other things that the northern forests abounded in, and I
reestablished myself as a gem merchant as well. They were good years, traveling during the warm weather,
and for the first time, I had a home of my own. They knew what I was and accepted it. It felt good not having
to hide from at least those few people."

"Did you become lovers with Kelsa?"

"Yes. Inga married Octa, and they had two sons together. The night the first one was born, she thanked me for
making her choose life. I think it was then that I stopped feeling like the monster I was all those years."

"Kelsa was sweet and playful, and very bold. She loved teasing me."

"I imagine you gave as good as you got."

Ryan laughed and ran her hands over Carissa's naked body. "What makes you say that, my dove? We were
lovers, but she was never in love with me, nor I with her. I think I had lost that capability by then, and I was
thankful. And she, she was waiting for Clywd to grow up enough to notice her. We had been lovers perhaps

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three years when I came home from a buying trip early and found them in my bed one night." Ryan smiled in
remembrance. "I think they thought I would gobble them up right then and there."

"What did you do?"

"I told them to go fool around in their own beds, and then I sent for Clywd the next evening. He was very
chastised, but I asked him if he really loved her, and when he said, yes, I told him he bloody well must marry
her."

"Did he ever get home to Wales?"

"Yes, I sent them both back across the channel a few years later. Kelsa was still enjoying my bed, and Clywd,
bless him, never minded when she spent a night or two with me. He even offered to join us, but I've never cared
for boys. It was a special pleasure living with them, but he was coming to a man's age, and he needed a man's
responsibilities. I sent him home first, but then he and Kelsa came north and began my trading house here near
Edinburgh."

Ryan held the portrait so that Carissa could see it.

"She was beautiful," Carissa said.

"Yes, and a very sweet woman. I didn't see them for years, almost twenty of them. I began to miss my home, so
I left Inga and Octa in charge of my house in Normandy and returned to Scotland in 1423. Octa's sons came
with me to serve me, and their children have served me ever since."

"I can see why you value your servants so much, Ryan."

"They are good people." Ryan said simply.

"When I reached Scotland, Clywd met me at the dock. He took me to his home and made me welcome. I did
not meet Kelsa's daughter for two days, but when I did," Ryan stopped to look at Carissa, "she could have been
your sister."

Carissa looked startled. "How could that be?"

"All those years, and I had never thought to ask Kelsa about her mother's family. Emily had had two
daughters. One of them had gone on to marry an important lord, but the other was promised in marriage to a
rich merchant. She was kidnapped in a raid by the Saxons and never seen again. I'm glad I did not know who
Kelsa was for all those years."

"What would you have done if you had known?"

"There were still days when the blood lust was so strong, Carissa. It took several years for me to become—well, I
can't really say human again—but you understand. I might have killed her on one of my mad days, or maybe
I just would have sent her away. And I would have been poorer for that. You know, even after all those years
apart, we were still lovers. She had matured into a very graceful woman, and I cared for her until the day she
died."

"She helped you heal, Ryan. I'm very glad that she was there when you needed her."

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"I am too." Ryan closed the portrait and put it down. "I learned that there are good and bad people in any
family, and I learned to accept that everyone was an individual. Carissa, I admit that I was waiting for you to
grow up, but over the years, I have not made an effort to become involved with the women of your lineage.
Indeed, I have had other lovers, many of them. But somehow, it is Brynn's daughters who always leave the
greatest mark on my life."

"Why were you waiting for me, Ryan?" It was a question that Carissa had wanted to ask for a very long time.

Ryan looked away, rather ashamed. "Because your grandmother forbade me to go near you."

Carissa laughed, relieved that it wasn't some cosmic portent that had brought Ryan into her life. "She was quite
an autocrat."

"She sent for me shortly after her husband died, you know. I'm not sure what she expected. Perhaps that I
would jump at a chance to grace her bed once more."

"My grandmother?" Carissa asked incredulously. "But… but she makes Queen Victoria look like a harlot. She
was always going on about morality and what is proper and what is not."

"Yes, she would do that, firmly believing that she was exempt from the standards that she would set for others.
You know, it wasn't her age that repulsed me. She was a handsome woman, and I found Kelsa desirable her
whole life long. I think it was your grandmother's hypocrisy that turned my stomach."

"Ryan, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, my dear."

"I do want to learn about all of my ancestors and how you came to know them, but please don't tell me about
my grandmother. It… it somehow seems indecent that I should know about her and you."

Ryan smiled. "The only thing that I will tell you is that it was I who gave her that amethyst necklace you like so
much. It pleases me that, of all the things you inherited from her, that is the one you like best. And in all
honesty, I am not anxious to relive my memories of her."

"There is something else that I acquired on my travels through Europe that might interest you, my dear."

"Oh, what is that my lord?"

Ryan helped Carissa stand and then led her to a brass-bound chest resting on one of the shelves. She looked at
Carissa smiling and then threw open the box. Inside were five slender objects that ranged from five to eight
inches in length. One was made of padded leather, two from polished stone, although they evidenced
considerable wear, one was of smooth ivory, and the last was of elaborately carved bone.

"This was my first one," Ryan said, picking up one of the stone phalluses.

Carissa cleared her throat, amazed that she could still feel such embarrassment. "I wondered where… how you
came to…"

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Ryan laughed. "The Italians call them diletto, from the word delight. I found this one in the south of France and
have never gone without one since."

"When did you start wearing one under your clothing?"

"About the time codpieces came into fashion." Ryan grinned in remembrance of her first experience of going
out in public with the diletto pressing against her groin. It had given such a feeling of shameful pleasure back
then, but now she would have felt naked without it. "I used the leather one then, but it is difficult to keep clean."

"This one is quite old," Ryan said, picking up the carved diletto. "I'm told it was used in ancient fertility rituals."

"And the one you wear now? What is it made of? It is softer then the ivory one you used with me when we first
became lovers."

"It is made of rubber: A fairly new innovation. I designed the one I wear now myself. It has a rod stiffening the
rubber, but the base is hinged so it folds up properly under my trousers."

Ryan could see that Carissa was both fascinated and embarrassed. She watched as Carissa took the carved
diletto from her. "I would think," Carissa said a bit breathlessly, "that the carvings would, would add to the
sensation."

Ryan laughed and took the diletto back, running it across her palm, then she slipped it into her pocket. "And
just what are you thinking now, my dove?"

"I am having the most salacious thoughts right now, my lord."

"Are you, my dear? Now I'm sure your grandmother would not approve of them one bit."

"Oh no, my lord, I am sure she would be scandalized completely."

"Then perhaps I had better do something about them." Before Carissa could react, Ryan sat and pulled her
lover onto on her lap, laying Carissa across her knees. She brought her hand down sharply on Carissa's exposed
ass. Carissa yelped in surprise. Ryan struck a dozen times, each time harder then the previous time. Carissa
moaned with pleasure and then began yelping in pain as the blows became more and more powerful. Her
body arched against Ryan's thighs, and Ryan could smell the evidence of her renewed arousal. There was no
fear in Carissa's reaction, only pure, animal lust. It was a stronger liquor than her usual delicate scent, but Ryan
was in the mood for a headier drink.

"Well, my dear, have I succeeded in driving those thoughts from your head?" Ryan inquired.

"Ummmm, no…" Carissa panted.

"Good." Ryan lifted Carissa effortlessly, and in a moment had her slung over her shoulder. She strode through
the hall and up the stairs laughing as Carissa struggled in her grasp. There was a game Kelsa used to like to
play, Ryan mused. She wondered if Carissa would enjoy it as well.

10

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Hide and Seek

The cellars under Wolf Manor were extensive. Some of the rooms were dedicated to the wine cellar and others
to storage, but there were many open spaces broken up with shadowy arches as well as a dozen small, unused
rooms. And then there were the tunnels. Ryan had built a half dozen escape routes from the cellar of the manor.
All of them were hidden, and three led to long tunnels that ended well outside the manor's grounds. One ended
in a cave at the base of the cliffs. A boat was kept there, and at high tide, it was possible to leave the cave by the
river. Ryan had moved Carissa's lessons to the cellars so that she could become adept at hiding and tracking in
the darkness that was a vampire's natural habitat.

Some nights the cellar was in complete blackness. Other nights Ryan lit a few lamps, which cast grotesque
shadows through the arches. The two women would take turns hunting each other through the cellars and
tunnels. Thus far, Ryan had always won, but Carissa was determined to master the skills of the hunter and
wipe the smug look from Ryan's face.

"To become one with the darkness, you need to open yourself to it. You need to slow your breathing, the very
flow of your blood until you are as still as the night itself. Vampires do not need to breathe. We do so out of
habit, a habit that is hard to break, but we can still our breath until we are like death itself. Our hearts do not
need to beat, at least not for long periods of time. We can slow the movement of our blood until it flows only to
the pull of the earth. For it is movement that attracts the hunter's eye, just as it is change in sound that attracts
the ear."

"Does that mean that a vampire can only become invisible when she is motionless?"

"No, I can move in the darkness and be completely invisible, but you need to learn how to be still first, for what
is it that you see when you stalk a human or another vampire with your senses?"

"I see the flow of their blood, like a beacon in the darkness."

"Exactly. Human blood, or animal blood for that matter, glows red hot to our senses, and there is absolutely no
way that could be hidden from us. Vampire blood is colder, and thus much darker."

"A deep purple, almost black. But I have learned to see it, see it as it swirls in its patterns." Carissa nodded her
comprehension. "If the blood does not flow, then it will just appear as a subtle difference against the shadows,
but should I not be able to recognize a vampire by the difference in color?"

"Yes, you should, but it is infinitely harder. That is the second half of what I want you to learn. But Carissa,
think too, if you are looking for this pattern of color against blackness, then it just takes a sharpening of senses.
If you are looking for it against moving shadows, that is a much harder task, for the shadows will mask the
pattern and fool the senses."

Carissa now moved silently in the darkness. She had ordered several pairs of shoes that had soft-bottomed soles.
They looked like fashionable boots or slippers, but the soles were cushioned with soft doeskin instead of hard
leather. She could feel the uneven stones beneath her feet, and this too was an advantage, but their main
purpose was to allow her to tread completely without sound.

It had taken her weeks to learn to still her breath completely and even longer to learn to still her heart. She still
had trouble doing the latter while she moved, but she practiced daily. Tonight she was the hunter, and she was

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determined to find Ryan in the black cellar before the hourglass ran out and she forfeited the game. She used
every sense she possessed, listening to every sound around her, closing her eyes and tasting the air, even testing
to see which way the air currents ran. She moved slowly to her right, until she passed beneath an arch. The air
had a taste of the sea tonight, so she guessed Ryan had opened the cliff passage.

Carissa found the correct wine rack and swung it forward on its well-oiled hinges. It was not latched, so she
knew Ryan had come this way. She grimaced, wishing she had worn just her leggings. Her skirts would be wet
and sandy by the end of the chase, and they would catch on every stone in the cavern. Yet she did not hike her
skirts up. Ryan insisted that she learn to move in the clothing she would wear in the outside world, and Carissa
understood the wisdom of this.

The stairs were covered with sand and rubble. Ryan could have had them cleared, but she preferred to leave
them as they were. She had no trouble moving silently, and leaving them littered ensured that Ryan could hear
any pursuers. Carissa felt carefully with her whole foot before putting her weight on a stair. It was becoming
second nature for her to test the ground before she stepped. Her gait had taken on a graceful glide very
different from Ryan's almost swaggering strut, yet both women moved as silently as a breeze.

Carissa reached the cavern without detecting Ryan. Instead of descending the last two steps into the sandy
cave, she climbed up onto a rocky protrusion. The smell of the sea was strong, almost overpowering. She set her
mind to ignoring the briny smell. Ryan wore no cologne or scent when they played these games, but Carissa
knew the subtle scent of the woman herself: the soap she used, the leather she wore, and something indefinable
that was Ryan herself. She filtered out the sounds around her, and for long moments she concentrated only on
scent. There—there was a thread of Ryan. She shifted silently and peered into the darkness. She saw Ryan's
stillness as a pattern of deep wine red against the greater darkness behind her. Carissa's heart jumped at the joy
of her victory, and she cursed herself for losing her own stillness. Now Ryan would know that she had been
found and see Carissa coming as clearly as if she held a lit candle.

Carissa eased off her perch and onto the damp sand. The tide had been out for several hours, but in the damp
cave, the sand never completely dried. Carissa's footsteps were softly cradled by the wet ground, and she saw
no reason to take a circuitous approach since Ryan undoubtedly saw her. She went straight for her target, a
smile on her lips. She had in a sense won since she had spotted Ryan before she gave herself away. She opened
her mouth to speak to Ryan when a blow was struck from behind.

Carissa fell and rolled as Ryan had taught her, cursing her skirts that threatened to tangle her legs. She did not
try to rise. She could see her assailant clearly now. Another vampire had been hidden, not in the darkness, but
in the shifting shadows near the cave mouth. Carissa swung her cane to catch the back of his knee, and he fell
sprawling onto the sand. She scrambled to her feet, but he was up before her, unhampered by wet, clinging
skirts. They circled each other warily. Carissa spared only a quick glance for Ryan who still stood immobile in
the shadows. So, either Ryan felt she could handle this opponent and held back so she could reap the
experience, or Ryan had arranged the ambush herself. Carissa reversed her cane to keep from striking her
opponent with the deadly, silver tipped point. She wore gloves, so she did not worry about touching the silver
herself.

"There is no such thing as a fair fight," Ryan had told her. "You always do what you need to stay alive. If that
means kicking someone in the balls or gouging out their eyes, you do it. The only true dishonor is death."

Carissa had balked at the words when Ryan had first spoken them, but over the months, she had watched the

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ebb and flow of violence in the poorer district of town. There were rules there. Even the thieves had ethics of
sorts. If there were none, then chaos would rule. But once a fight was joined, all rules were forgotten. The bodies
the police found in the alleys were testimony enough to those who thought they had scruples. Carissa struck
her opponent again and again, driving him back against the stairs. She suspected he was stronger than she.
The two blows he had landed had sent her staggering, but even in her skirts, she was quicker. She used her
speed to drive him until he fell back over the steps. Then, in the watery light of the reflected moon, she caught
his eyes and so caught his soul.

"Enough," Ryan said loudly, and immediately Carissa backed away from her opponent, breaking eye contact.

"Carissa, why didn't you use your cane to kill him?" Ryan asked in a hard voice.

"I assumed that if he were a real threat to us you would have taken him yourself. I could see that you were free
and unhurt, so I thought perhaps you arranged this ambush."

Ryan laughed and gave the other vampire her hand and helped him up. Carissa still could not see him clearly,
but he looked very young, almost a boy.

"Well reasoned, my dove. I am glad you did perceive it, because I would not want you to damage Clywd."

Carissa looked sharply at Ryan and saw her shake her head slightly.

"Clywd, I would like you to meet my lady, Carissa. Carissa, this is a young friend of mine whom I have invited
to visit with us for a few days."

"I am honored to meet you, Lady Wolf," the young man answered. His voice was a light baritone and had a
musical lilt to it.

"The pleasure is mine, Clywd. I hope I did not damage you too badly?"

"Nothing that won't heal."

"Let us go upstairs where we can be comfortable." Ryan gestured to Clywd to precede them up the stairs. She
took Carissa's arm, giving her a squeeze of approval tor her performance that night.

"What did you learn from this, my dear?" Ryan asked in a voice loud enough for Clywd to hear.

"Not to get too focused on one target to ignore the possibility of another. For a moment, I thought I was dead. If
Clywd had followed up immediately, he could easily have killed me."

"Good. You understand then. Your skills are improving wonderfully, but do not let your confidence ever exceed
them. We play these games in a safe environment, but out in the world, there is no safety unless we make it for
ourselves."

Carissa remembered all the bruises she had collected from Ryan's lessons. One night she had broken several
ribs. But Ryan was right: these were scratches compared with what Alyssa's crew would do to her if she excited
the queen vampire's enmity.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Carissa stopped to shake her skirts out. There was no need to track all

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that sand through the whole house. Her maid would have a hard enough time cleaning the garment as it was.
They continued up to Ryan's study, and there in the lamplight, Carissa finally got a good look at her assailant.

He was very young indeed. He looked to be perhaps fourteen years old. His body was slight and his face rather
ugly. The jaw was too long and the brow elongated, making him look as though his bones had only grown in
one direction and not the other. His eyes held a beaten look, and Carissa thought he might look engaging if he
smiled. But the way he hunched his shoulders made her wonder if she had not hurt him more then he
admitted. The one thing about him that was truly beautiful was his hands. They were elegantly shaped, with
long, sensitive fingers. Carissa's first instinct was to mother him, but Ryan sat her firmly down and poured all
three of them glasses of wine. Clywd took his as if unsure what to do with it, but when he sipped, a slight smile
appeared on his lips and Carissa realized he could be attractive, if never good-looking.

"I invited Clywd here because I thought your friend Master McKay might be willing to teach him."

"Before I was changed, my whole life was music. I was a student, a pianist. But then, it was all gone; I lost all
the music in my life. Ryan showed me that it needn't be lost, but there is still so much I need to learn." The eyes
Clywd turned to Carissa were full of fire. There was passion there and pain as well. "Do you really think there is
a chance the Master McKay will teach me? I heard him play once, before I was changed. He was incredible."

"I will ask him, Clywd. How much can I tell him of your true nature? Obviously, he cannot give you lessons
during the day." Carissa looked at Ryan, not Clywd, for instructions, and it was Ryan who answered.

"You know McKay better than either of us. Do you think he will accept Clywd if he knows what he is?"

"If Clywd has talent, McKay won't care if he Howls at the full moon and buries bones in the yard." Ryan and
Clywd both laughed.

"I have a few friends like that, but I myself am quite housebroken," Clywd answered.

Carissa's eyebrows rose. Ryan had told her some things about werewolves, including the fact that they had little
love for vampires.

"One thing I'm sure McKay will insist upon is that you promise never to touch any of his other students."

"That's no problem, my lady. I only hunt animals, and I don't need to feed often."

"Please call me Carissa, Clywd." Personally Carissa thought Clywd could stand to hunt a good deal more often.
"I did not know that a vampire could exist on only animal blood."

"Yes and no, my dear . The emotions produced by the hunt are almost as important as the blood we take.
Animals just do not have the same sophistication of emotion."

"But music does," Clywd interrupted. "If I have music, I don't need to kill people."

Carissa understood more of the boy's pain. He had never learned to control his feeding, and he had enough
humanity left in him to hate himself for killing.

"I remember feeling that the first time I heard Master McKay play. He played one of his own compositions, and
I felt as though the music reached inside me and touched me leading my soul on a wild hunt."

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"You do understand," Clywd smiled at Carissa. "When do you think you can speak to him?"

"I'm going to see a mutual friend the night after tomorrow. I will go to Master McKay then."

"Thank you, Carissa."

"There is a slaughterhouse not far from the warehouse where McKay lives, Clywd. You should have no trouble
getting fresh blood there. I know you well enough to know you won't hunt much once you get caught up in
your studies," Ryan admonished.

Clywd grinned shyly at Ryan. Carissa had a dozen questions she wanted to ask about the boy, but she did not
want to seem rude in front of him. She knew he had to be a good deal older than he looked if he had heard
Master McKay play in public. Yet he must have been made as barely more than a child, something very rarely
done. She asked him about his present life and found he lived as a hermit in a cabin Ryan owned near one of
her mines. Ryan had provided him with a piano, something the boy was exceedingly grateful for, but even
Ryan could not replace what had been taken from the boy when he had been made. Clywd hunted on the
moors for game, often running with a couple of werewolf friends he had made. He ingenuously explained that
there was less waste that way, for he only needed the blood while his friends could feed on the flesh.

Carissa was about to ask Clywd about his life before he was changed when there was a knock on the study
door.

"Yes, Greger, what is it?" Ryan called before the butler could open the door. The servants were sure that Ryan
could see through walls, and they were not so far off. Ryan was practiced enough to identify people she knew
by the pattern of their blood, which was barely masked by walls or doors.

Greger looked into the study. "I am sorry to disturb you, my lord, but there is an Inspector Cavendish here to
see her ladyship."

Ryan's eyebrows rose and she looked at Carissa. "Show him in Greger, and please show Clywd to his room. I
am sure he would appreciate a hot bath about now."

The boy grinned at Ryan and left following the butler.

"Just what kind of trouble have you been getting into, my dove?" Ryan asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"I haven't the slightest idea, my lord." Carissa answered haughtily, but the effect was wasted on Ryan, who
could see her blood flowing faster as her heart raced with worry.

"Good evening, Lord Wolf, Lady Wolf. I am sorry to disturb you at this time of night." The man was big
enough to fill the whole doorway, and Ryan suspected that his size alone intimidated the average criminal into
behaving.

"Not at all, Inspector. Please be seated and tell us what brings you here this evening."

"Perhaps you would like a glass of wine or some coffee, Inspector?" Carissa added.

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"Thank you, my lady, perhaps another time." Ryan smiled to herself. The police were not considered social
equals to those in society and certainly not to the gentry. There was just a touch of irony in the man's voice
showing that he knew the absurdity of the likelihood that he would ever call socially on Lady Wolf, but also
showing that the man knew his own value and would not let any man take that from him. Ryan looked at the
man with interest, taking an immediate liking to him.

"My lady, my business is actually with you. I understand that you sold some jewelry to Sir Donald Martin a
few months ago."

"Yes, Inspector. My husband recommended Sir Donald as a gem merchant of some standing and discretion. Is
there a problem about the sale?"

If the Inspector had hoped to elicit more information about the items Carissa sold, he did not show any
disappointment. "Among the items you sold, my lady, there was a sapphire necklace with matching earrings
and bracelet, was there not?"

"Yes, Inspector. Is there some problem with it?"

"Could you tell me where you acquired the ensemble, my lady?"

"I inherited it from my grandmother on her death four years ago."

"Inspector," Ryan interceded, "has the jewelry been reported stolen?"

Inspector Cavendish looked at Ryan as if he wished he could have excluded her from the interview.

"Yes, my lord, it has. You don't seem surprised."

"But the jewelry is mine," Carissa said in surprise. "Who would have reported it stolen?"

"Your father," Ryan answered.

"Oh, yes, I see."

"Your father is Reginald de Moire?"

"Yes, Inspector."

"Can you tell me, my lady, why your father would report jewelry owned by you as stolen?"

"My father had his own ideas as to whom I should marry, Inspector. When I eloped with Lord Wolf, it was not
with his blessing. I took only what was mine: the jewelry that I had inherited from my grandmother along with
a few gifts from different relatives. He has no claim on my inheritance, Inspector, thus he had no right to report
the jewelry stolen."

"I see, my lady. Can you give me any proof that you did indeed inherit the jewelry?"

"I suppose my grandmother's will is on file at Somerset House in London. Perhaps someone at Scotland Yard
can obtain a copy of it for you, Inspector."

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"I am sure that they could, my lady. Was she your father's mother?"

"No, my maternal grandmother, Lady Augusta Fortinell. She died December nineteenth, eighteen seventy-
two."

Inspector Cavendish wrote in his notebook. "Thank you, my lady, now if you could show me some proof of
your own identity, we can straighten this matter out."

Carissa looked blankly at Ryan. "Proof of my identity?"

Ryan smiled and rang the bell summoning Greger. "Greger, could you bring me the document case from my
dressing room?"

"If you will be patient for a moment, Inspector, I am sure we can establish Carissa's identity to your
satisfaction."

"Thank you, my lord. Perhaps while we are waiting, my lady, you can tell me if there are any other jewels that
your father might have reported missing which are either in your possession or have been sold?"

"Do you have a list of what my father reported stolen, Inspector?"

"Yes, I do, my lady, but I would like to know how they were disposed of so that the police need not go through
this every time another piece surfaces."

"I see, Inspector. I can tell you which pieces I sold, and which I kept, but only Sir Donald can tell you how they
were disposed of. I am glad to see he kept my confidence by not telling you what other items I sold, but I will
give you a letter giving him permission to tell you what happened to the jewelry." Carissa moved to Ryan's
desk and began writing a list of the jewelry she sold and instructing Sir Donald to tell Inspector Cavendish what
had become of it.

"Thank you, my lady, that would be most helpful. I am curious, However, why you chose to sell so much of
your inheritance." The inspector knew of Lord Wolfs wealth. There was no need for the jewels to be sold. If the
young woman had been coerced in some way, the inspector wished to know. And there was still the possibility
that this was not actually Carissa de Moire but a clever thief who had duped Lord Wolf into marriage.

"Quite frankly, I sold them because I did not care for them." The inspector's eyebrows rose. "The settings were,
for the most part, very old-fashioned and cumbersome. Some of them were actually ugly, Inspector. Ryan had
some of the gems reset for me in a much more elegant style, but the rest did not seem worth bothering with,
even though the stones themselves were quite valuable."

"I see, my lady." The inspector answered noncommittally.

Greger returned bearing a large wooden box that Ryan opened with a key from her watch fob. Inside the box
were various documents, and Ryan sorted quickly through them until she found the two that she was looking
for. One was Carissa's certificate of birth: not a copy, but the original that she had obtained from her father's
safe. The second was a certificate of marriage showing that one Ryan, Lord Wolf, and one Carissa de Moire
were married on the fifth of September in the year of our Lord, 1876.

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"If you wish me to, Inspector, I can provide the address of both of the witnesses. They knew Carissa over a
period of five years before we were married, and they can testify that she is indeed, or I should say was, Miss de
Moire. I myself knew Carissa from the time she was eighteen years old. As you can see from the certificate, we
were married when she was twenty-three."

"Thank you, my lord, perhaps you had better provide the addresses of the witnesses, just so that we can be sure
of our facts. And the minister, did he know her ladyship before your marriage?"

"No, as Carissa said, we eloped. Reverend Clemence is an old friend of my family, but he had not met Carissa
before the time of our wedding." That the man had not met her at all was something Ryan forbore to mention.

"Thank you, my lord, my lady. I am sure that we can clear this matter up. I am sorry to have bothered you
both."

"Not at all, Inspector," Carissa answered. "I am very sorry that you and your colleagues have been put to all of
this unnecessary work by my father."

Inspector Cavendish bowed slightly to Carissa and then to Lord Wolf. He followed the butler out, wondering
why in the world anyone would object to his daughter marrying the very wealthy Lord Wolf. Then he
remembered some of the darker rumors about the family, and he thought he knew.

Ryan cursed very imaginatively in three languages after the inspector left. She got up and began to get ready
to go out.

"What is wrong, Ryan? Surely the mess about the jewelry will be straightened out? I do really own them."

"Yes, my dear, the inspector will have his colleagues visit Somerset House and the witnesses and that problem
will be cleared up."

"Mmmmm, just when did we get married?"

Ryan grinned. "Actually, I had the document made up after we arrived here, but we were married just two
days after we ran off. I didn't want people speculating about what we were doing running all over together
unwed. And don't worry my, dear, a copy was duly filed with the proper authorities, and everyone concerned
will swear that the marriage actually did take place. I have learned over the years that it is important to have
the proper documents just in case of emergencies like this one. If you like, I will show you my own certificate of
birth for this incarnation. But another time."

"Look after Clywd for me, please. I may be gone for a few days. If you arrange to introduce him to Master
McKay while I am gone, that is fine, but do not let the boy move into town until I return. He does not know
how to secure a place so that it is safe for him."

"I realize he cannot be the Welsh boy you rescued all those centuries ago, but is the name a mere coincidence?"

"No, he is a direct descendant of Kelsa and that Clywd and the last of that line."

"And I am descended from Emily's other daughter, so he is my kin. I am glad Ryan. I like that idea of having
family."

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Ryan smiled and kissed Carissa. "I knew you would like him. He… he is in a sense one of my biggest mistakes."

"Why? You did not make him, did you?"

"No, but I made the mistake of letting the then-king of the vampires in Edinburgh know that I cared for him. I
was his patron. He was something of a prodigy, a gifted pianist at only twelve, and I arranged the best of
teachers. Talon, as he called himself, was continuously challenging me. He wanted me to submit to him or leave
the district. I would do neither, nor would I fight him directly. He kidnapped Clywd when he was only sixteen
and made him. It came very close to destroying the boy. It did destroy his parents. I promised them I would
care for him, and I have to the best of my ability."

"I take it Talon is no longer king because you killed him?"

"Oh, yes. It is one reason Alyssa knows better then to challenge me. Or even to touch what I hold dear. But
then, she was always more subtle."

"Clywd has no self-control, does he, Ryan?"

"No, and he will not hunt humans at all. The deaths he caused before I found him left him so soul sore that for
years he could not even listen to music, much less produce it. I decided what was best for him was to be
completely away from people. I introduced him to some werewolf friends of mine, and they looked after him
and taught him how to hunt as they do. I think they thought of him as a kind of pet. Eventually, I was able to
give him back part of what he lost. He can make music again, but he feels incomplete. I hope McKay can teach
him what he needs."

"I hope so too."

"Ryan, you are not going to do anything drastic to Sir Donald, are you?" Carissa asked changing the subject.

"He promised to break the pieces up and reset the stones. They could not be traced that way."

"Yes, but no harm will be done in the long run, will there?"

"That is what I am going to make sure of. But he broke his word to me Carissa, and that I do not take lightly."

Carissa thought of exacting a promise from Ryan not to kill the man, but she knew that would show a lack of
trust. And she did trust Ryan. The vampire had done many horrendous deeds in her life, but she had also
evolved her own code of conduct. If Carissa could not accept that code, or could not accept that Ryan would
abide by it, then she had no business being Ryan's wife. "Please be careful, my love, and don't be too long. I will
miss you."

Ryan kissed Carissa once more, and then she was gone. Carissa stood looking out of the window, watching the
carriage disappear around a bend in the road. This would be her first separation from Ryan since they had run
away together. It might be only a day or two, but she had mixed feelings about it. She would miss Ryan very
deeply, but it also pleased her that Ryan had left Clywd in her care and had trusted her with the task of
arranging his tutelage. The boy might be twenty or more years older than she was, but he was still at heart a
boy, and Ryan cared for him, perhaps even as a son.

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"Excuse me," Clywd asked softly. "Do you mind if I practice on the piano in the withdrawing room?"

"Of course not, Clywd. Would you mind if I listened to you?" Clywd looked down shyly. "I… I would like that."
Carissa took the boy's arm and led him into the light of the house. He played half the night, and she listened,
seeing that although his technique was excellent, he did not know how to lose his soul into the music. She
hoped that McKay could teach him that, for now he sounded like a caged bird: still producing the notes but
with none of the beauty of the freedom of flight behind them.

11

Vengeance

Ryan's first stop was not Sir Donald Martin. Indeed, she had no intention of seeing the man again, now or ever.
He had failed her, and she would take her vengeance, but not as Carissa had feared. Ryan had no intention of
laying a hand on Sir Donald. Years ago, Ryan had introduced Sir Donald's father to her contacts among the
gem merchants. Now those contacts would be closed off, one by one until the man found his business trickle to
a stop. Ryan called on a captain friend who carried jewels from as far away as India. She sent telegraphs to
agents in Holland and Africa. She went to three other gem merchants in the city and let them know she was
displeased with Sir Donald. Nothing direct needed to be said. The men knew what Lord Wolfs displeasure
could cost them, and so they made a mental note to no longer trade with a man who had been a respected
colleague for over a quarter of a century.

There was no heat in Ryan's vengeance, no anger. Everything was done coldly, without emotion. That she was
ruining the man did not matter in the least. He had made a mistake, and Ryan no longer trusted him, and so
his contacts would be cut off. If he became destitute, that was not her concern, nor was the fate of his son who
had just joined him in the business.

That business concluded, Ryan debated what to do about Carissa's father. There was no way the police would
withhold the location of his daughter from the man. The simplest expedient might be just to send an agent to
kill him. Ryan sat back in her chair in the tavern and considered the ramifications of such an act. The police
might have their suspicions, but both Ryan and Carissa would have an alibi for that night, and Ryan's agent
would never talk, even in the unlikely event that she was caught. Indeed, she didn't even know who Ryan was,
so there was nothing she could really say. The largest obstacle to the plan was Carissa herself. Although she had
ceased to have any positive feelings toward her father, she would be appalled if she ever found out Ryan had
had him killed. Carissa's emotions could be inconvenient at times, yet they were one of the things that attracted
Ryan. Carissa felt with such incredible intensity, and that very intensity fed Ryan as much as her blood did. All
in all, it was not worth risking her over the satisfaction of having her father killed, for Ryan had developed a
great dislike for the man in the years she had lived in the district. He was hypocrite of the worst kind: a
slumlord as well as someone who relied almost exclusively on child labor. He used social Darwinism to justify
his beliefs, and on the one hand called for the sterilization of the unfit, meaning the poor, and on the other, he
fed off the poor themselves. Ryan drank the last of her wine and decided that she would just have to leave him
be. Time would be her vengeance on the man, for he would grow old and die while Ryan would still be young
long after the man was dust.

Ryan next considered if she need do anything about Carissa's fiancee, John McDermott. She cursed herself for
not leaving an agent to keep an eye on the man in the first place. Whether he would still come after Carissa
after all this time would be a matter of how bruised his ego was. Ryan had no illusions that the man actually

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loved Carissa. Love did not enter into the equation of most society marriages. He was the son of de Moire's
business partner, and the marriage of the two heirs would keep the business firmly in the family. If anything,
greed would be the man's motive if he came after Carissa, since forcing her to marry him would give him a
second fortune as large as the one he already stood to inherit. The last Ryan had heard of the man, he had
taken the bait and followed the decoys Ryan had sent to Paris. Perhaps he was still running around Europe
hunting them. Ryan smiled at the thought. Well, she would send an agent to see if he had returned and make
her plans from there.

Ryan considered returning to the house for the day, but instead she went to secure some rooms she kept in
town. She sometimes brought victims there whom she wished to play with at leisure, but mostly she kept the
rooms so that she could meet with her agents without having them traced back to her house. Unlike Alyssa,
most of Ryan's agents were human. It meant having to replace them every so often, but humans could go
where vampires could not. It also meant that Ryan could do much of her business in the light of day when
Alyssa's agents were forced to seek shelter. This was one of the many reasons Alyssa could not gain ascendancy
over Ryan. Not that Ryan was here to visit her human agents.

One other thing Ryan had that Alyssa could not have was agents within her rival's court. Ryan had always
been a loner. The lesson with the boy Clywd had taught her well enough not to keep other vampires close to
her. She did have vampire friends, in as much as vampires were ever friends, but Ryan did not need to keep
them tied to her. Some, indeed, did have her protection, but even they did not know anything of Ryan's
business, much less her personal life. Some of Ryan's adherents were within Alyssa's court itself. They very
much wanted Ryan to take the queen's place. That Ryan had no intention of ever tying herself down in that
way was not something she told them. She took their loyalty without giving them any promises in return.
What she did give them, and what they valued greatly, was the freedom to control their own fortunes. Alyssa
kept close watch on her subjects, controlling their assets and thus their lives. No one was allowed to establish too
secure a power base or too secure a financial base. It kept her subjects dependent on her. Ryan gave her friends
the opportunity to establish their own power, their own security. She never asked for an accounting, just an
occasional favor. It was a bargain that suited all parties well.

Ryan woke early, just after four in the afternoon. She dressed much less elegantly then usual, for the parts of
town she wished to frequent that night were not the best. The sun was still up, and she took the time to write a
few letters. She would drop them in the post before going to find her first contact. The street lamps were just
being lit when she came out of her rooms. The sunset was rather glorious, and Ryan was glad she could
appreciate it. Castle Rock stood silhouetted against the darkening sky behind her. She loved the old city that
had begun its life almost at the same time as she had. For many centuries, the Old Town was a strip of land
that ran from the Castle to Holy rood Abbey. The Royal Mile it was called, for a palace had been built next to
the abbey. When the New Town was built in the previous century,

Ryan had invested in real estate. Many of the fashionable houses that bordered Charlotte Square at the end of
George Street belonged to Ryan. It gave her pleasure to know she could enter them anytime she wished, and
that the cream of Edinburgh society were less secure from Ryan's appetites then were the poor in their slums.

Ryan had traveled far, but she had always come back to this area. It was as if Edinburgh was the repository of
her memories. She was not quite old enough to remember the Roman occupation, but she could still remember
the old forts that stood at Inveresk and Crammond. Each time she saw them, it seemed as though they
crumbled a little more into the ground, yet the bones were still there, and her memory put meat on them. She
had heard John Knox preach at St. Giles, bearing the discomfort of the cathedral to see what new thoughts the

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man had. She had listened to Robert Burns in the brief years he had spent in the city, and had watched Robert
the Bruce ride the Royal Mile after his sons had taken the castle. She had drunk with William Brodie and
laughed as he robbed the very houses in which he was welcomed as a guest. But it was the personal memories
that Ryan savored most, sipping them like wine as she walked the streets of the city. There in the Lawn Market,
she had met that pretty maid who she had kept for almost eight years. And there, where they had drained the
loch, she had stalked her enemy and driven him into the waters before she killed him with the silver dagger she
carried in her boot.

As complete darkness took the city, Ryan let her thoughts grow dark as well. Not all of her memories were
sweet. Her blood had been spilled on these streets as well. She had lost friends and companions here, and at the
base of Calton Hill, she had almost been unmade by her greatest enemy of all. That the battle had cost him
dearly as well did not ease the bitter taste in Ryan's mouth as she thought of her one greatest failure. It was
time, and past time to rectify that failure, and Ryan now had the bait with which to draw her enemy out. She
knew that Blake could not stand the idea of Ryan having a true lover instead of just a pet. As the man had
destroyed Ryan's clan, so would he seek to destroy anything else Ryan held dear: just as Ryan had destroyed
Blake's lover centuries before. Ryan brooded while she waited for her contact, thinking black thoughts and
remembering.

Plague had decimated the countryside once more, and the entire summer of 1648 seemed to have been
shrouded in a haze of the bitter smoke of burning bodies. Ryan had worked hard to ensure her folk's safety.
She had kept her servants out of the city to avoid the contagion. Since they could not shop for food, Ryan did,
going to what remained of the markets in the early evening and filling the carriage with all she could buy. She
had brought up her partner's family too, so they would be safe in her house. It was crowded, but somehow,
they had all escaped exposure, and so they were safe until the plague could burn itself out as it had before.
Ryan hunted now, but not for blood. She hunted for the one who had brought the plague to the north, killing
thousands as carelessly as he had always killed.

Ryan's senses were extended completely. All around her, death was stalking the weak, the old, and the very
young, leaving behind a trail of numbed sorrow. The dying embers of the plague victims' blood pulsed a deep,
dull red in Ryan's senses, masking the particular pattern that was a vampire's blood. Ryan knew that those of
her kind were out there feasting on the bounty of the plague's carnage. It used to be that she could go for a
dozen years or more without meeting any of her kind, but in the past years they had been congregating in the
cities where the prey clustered so conveniently together. Ryan hunted for one particular pattern in a tapestry of
reds and blacks. It was, in a sense, a hopeless task until Ryan realized that he would want to find her as much
as she did him. Ryan nodded to herself and left the city heading for a steep hill to the north. He would find her
there. There was no need for her to waste her energy looking for him.

Even at this distance, the flickering fires of death sparkled in Ryan's vision. She too had fed well over the last
few days, not caring if she drained a life, for these lives were already forfeit, and she did her victims a favor by
ending their terrible pain. Now she rested easily against a boulder, willing herself to stillness. He would come,
and they would end it once and for all.

Ryan remained seated as she watched him approach. How like him not to come alone. The young vampire
with him had no skill, and Ryan suspected he was there only to watch her defeat. The other vampire that Ryan
sensed moving up the hill behind her was another matter. She ignored his presence for now. It told her much of
what her enemy expected of her skills. Ryan smiled to herself, knowing that he was underestimating her.

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"Well, well, if it isn't the little slut I made all those years ago. Are you ready to follow your family into oblivion?"

Ryan knew he was baiting her, trying to excite the rage that would leave her so vulnerable.

"Ah, Blake, if you wanted to get my attention, you needn't have scourged the entire countryside with this
plague. But then, I suppose it is too much to expect subtlety from you."

Blake stood in the moonlight, looking like one of the sculptures Ryan had seen in Italy. Michelangelo would
have given an eye to have Blake as a model. His body was muscled like David's, but his face was more purely
beautiful. Ryan remembered that Satan himself was said to be the most beautiful of angels; Blake was made in
his image. His blond hair curled back from a high forehead; his nose was straight and patrician; his chin
chiseled with a cleft. In some ways, he looked artificial, he was so perfect. It was only his eyes that held the
ugliness of what he was, but then, if a man or woman looked in those eyes, they were already lost. Many a
woman had fallen in lust with him. They had gone willingly to his bed, and those that had emerged with their
lives had lost a great deal more than their maidenhood. Ryan had been an exception. He had not been able to
seduce her, so he had raped her in the most painful way he could contrive.

Blake shrugged. "I wanted you to feel the loss of your pets before I unmade you. When you feel the sun turn
you to ash in the morning, think of all those little humans dying as painfully as you."

Ryan knew better than to correct Blake's impression that he had succeeded in infecting her servants. Let him
think her weakened by emotion. "And so to kill a few, you kill a legion. No finesse whatsoever Blake. And now
I see you have stooped to making children. Tell me, is it because you are too old, too weak to seduce an adult?
Or is it that your phallus can no longer rise to a real woman or man?"

Ryan smiled inwardly as she saw the flash of anger in Blake's eyes. "Tell the lady," Blake said with heavy
sarcasm, "who you are, Perry."

"I am Perry Matheson. My father is the Matheson." The boy said proudly, identifying himself as the son of the
current head of the clan Matheson.

"He could have been your descendant if I hadn't interfered with your wedding plans, my dear. Think, you
would have been a clan mother."

Ryan did not react. The one good thing that had come out of Blake making her was that she had not been
forced to marry Mathe. The man had been almost three times her age: an important clan leader who would
have brought a powerful alliance to Ryan's own clan. That was Ryan's sole worth to her father, and she had
hated both men. She had actually been trying to run away when Blake had caught her and made her in the
first step of his plan to revenge himself against Ryan's father. She never even knew what the argument between
her father and Blake had been, only that she was a pawn to be used against her own kin.

"Let's get on with it, Blake. I hate you; you swore to destroy my entire clan. We can take all the insults as read.
Let's just finish this here and now."

"Always impatient. Did I tell you, Perry, that she was so impatient to feed that she took her niece as her first
victim? How old was she, Ryan? Four years old? Five?"

Ryan didn't answer. She rose from where she had been resting and slipped into a fighter's crouch. Blake

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laughed. "Oh, you want a physical confrontation, do you, girl? Do you really think you have the strength to
take me on?"

Ryan was tempted to slam her fist into Blake's leering mouth, but she had learned painful lessons of control.
She was no longer the frightened girl who had been ravaged by this man. She waited for him to make the first
move, to put himself in a vulnerable position, and then she would attack. She smiled at the lessons in fighting
she had learned first from Octa, and then from a long line of men all over Europe. Blake might still have more
strength then she, but she was sure she had greater skill.

Blake motioned Perry aside, and then he began circling Ryan. Ryan quickly noticed that this put her back to
the vampire who was hiding in the trees, and she moved to place a large boulder at her back. Let the other man
try to come over that at her. She waited until Blake lunged at her, and then she spun to her left, grabbing
Blake's arm and propelling him headfirst into the rock. He bellowed with pain and surprise, snarling as he
launched himself at her again. If he could pin her, he would have the advantage. She again pivoted out of his
grasp, this time bringing him down in a sprawl on his face. She reached for the silver dagger she kept in her
boot and stabbed him in the back. His scream of pain brought his man rushing out of hiding. The other
vampire swung his staff at Ryan. She ducked, but the blow still caught her in the shoulder.

Ryan rolled with the blow, coming up in a crouch, holding the dagger in front of her. Blake rose, swearing, and
now she faced both men openly. She knew it was an uneven fight, but elation filled her. The last time, she was
the victim. This time she was the predator. She feinted at Blake and then stabbed the other vampire behind the
knee, driving the blade into the tendons and all but severing them. Silver was soft; she could only use the blade
so many times to cut before it lost its edge, but for now, she was in the ascendancy. She left the crippled
vampire writhing on the ground and began feinting again and again at Blake, driving him back toward the
boulder. She slashed his arm and grinned when she heard him bellow in pain. Let him feel the fire of the silver
working in his veins. Let him writhe as she once did as he took her body and then her life, tearing her flesh even
as he tortured her mind.

Ryan half pivoted when she felt the weight on her back. She bellowed and threw herself backward against a
tree, slamming her assailant against the rough bark. His arms loosened around her neck, and Ryan turned in
his grasp, using the force of her pivot to drive the dagger deep into his chest. It was only then that she realized it
was the boy, not Blake's servant, who had attacked her. His scream of agony filled the night. If he had been
more experienced, if he could have stilled his heart, then the blade could have been withdrawn, and he might
have survived the stabbing. But he was too inexperienced. His heart struggled to beat against the poisonous
blade, tearing itself apart against the half-dulled edges. Perry screamed again and again, filling all of Ryan's
senses with his pain.

Blake's scream echoed the boy's. His fury had overcome him, overcome the pain that still raced up his arm and
collapsed one lung. He grabbed Ryan and threw her against the boulder. She felt her ribs snap with the force of
the impact. She struggled to rise, but Blake was on her already. He pulled her arm back behind her back,
dislocating her shoulder with the violence of the movement. He slammed her over and over into the rock until
her nose and cheekbones were splintered, her skull cracked. He threw her to the ground and began kicking in
the rest of her ribs, and when she tried to curl around her belly, he smashed her hand under his boot. And all
the time, Perry continued to Scream in pain that would not let him die. Blake's blows continued to fall on Ryan
over and over until she wished she could slip into unconsciousness, even until she wished she could die, but
never once did she utter a sound.

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"Master," Blake's servant gasped. "Master, it is almost dawn."

Blake's breathing was ragged as he fought for control of his rage. In some dim part of her mind, Ryan realized
that Blake had been genuinely fond of Perry. If she could have thought past her pain, she would have been
astonished that a creature as full of blackness as he could care for anything. Ryan concentrated to still her heart,
for even the slight quiver of her body sent stabs of pain running through her.

"Yes, yes, all right. Chain her to that tree so she can see Edinburgh burn as she dies." Blake did not wait to see
his orders obeyed. He turned away and started down toward the city.

"What about the boy, Master?"

Blake looked down at Perry. He had finally stopped screaming, but there was still awareness in his eyes. Blake
looked down at the handsome youth. "It's a pity," he said in a soft voice. "He is already dead. Leave him. Let
the sun finish the unmaking." With that, Blake turned his back on the boy and strode away.

Ryan's bones ground as the servant dragged her to the tree. He passed a chain around the base of it and
shackled Ryan's wrists. He wasted no time on the task and turned and limped after his master lest the sun also
take him. Ryan cursed herself for a fool for allowing herself to become distracted by Perry's screams. If she had
moved quickly, she could have still beaten Blake. She could feel the sun creeping up to the horizon to the east.
The bulk of the hill should shade her for some time, but she had to move as quickly as she could.

Ryan concentrated all of her will on her hand. She folded the ringers into her palm and compressed her wrist as
much as she could. Slowly, she worked her hand out of the shackle that had been forged for a man's wrist. She
left skin behind, but given all of her other injuries, the pain was not even noticeable. Then she turned to the
broken hand. It was a misshapen mass of blood and torn muscles. She picked it up and rested it in her lap. She
could not move the fingers, but with her other hand, she began to fold what was left of them into her palm. The
pain was excruciating, but Ryan had already passed trials greater than these. The wooden stakes in the wolf pit,
the years of being eaten alive as she lay buried, these had taught her lessons about pain that made this task, if
not pleasant, then bearable. She concentrated on a spot outside herself and slid the shackle over her ruined
hand. For a long moment all she could do was lay against the tree. Then she began to crawl away into the
darkness knowing where there was a small cave that would shelter her from the sun. She spared a look for
Perry. He was beyond pain now. She felt a moment's regret, not so much that she had killed him but that the
pain had been his and not Blake's. There would be another time, she vowed.

"Well, Ryan, that is the first time you have let me get so close without seeing me. What if I had been an
enemy?" Cherise teased in a coquettish voice.

"Why then, my dear, I would have had to kill you." Ryan answered, pulling the woman off her feet and
pinning her against a wall.

Ryan's hands were hard on her body, her mouth possessive. "But you aren't an enemy, so instead I will invite
you to have a glass of wine with me and tell me all of the news."

Cherise giggled. She loved playing these games with Ryan. She had always been a complete flirt herself, and
she hoped that Ryan would have time to do more than tease that night. Ryan offered the vampire her arm and
led her from the alley into one of the better taverns. There she paid for a private room and ordered a very fine

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wine.

"So, tell me the news? How is dear Alyssa doing these days?"

"Not too happy with you, Ryan dear." Cherise wrinkled her nose. "Martin is a complete swine, so no one
thought much of it when your new pet sent him running home with his tail between his legs, but Eddy knows a
thing or two. He was rather impressed with her."

"As well he should be." Ryan answered.

"Is she really as pretty as Eddy reported?" Cherise asked a bit wistfully. She knew Ryan would never be hers,
but they had spent a lovely summer together in Paris, and then Ryan had escorted her around London a few
years later.

"She is beautiful, like a work of art."

Cherise pouted. "Prettier than me?"

"But sometimes I prefer the company of someone… mmmmm, more…"

Cherise laughed happily. She could put on the act of being an empty-headed flirt and fool practically anybody,
including Alyssa herself who tended to ignore most women. Ryan knew just how shrewd Cherise was at
business and at observation, and she genuinely liked her good nature. Cherise was very rare among vampires
in that she had no real ambitions for power. She enjoyed her life: she loved the hunt, and she loved assuming
the role of a young debutante and then scandalizing society with her open conquests. The season Cherise had
spent in London with Ryan, she had received six proposals of marriage. She had shrewdly not taken any of her
suitors to bed. Instead, she had caused a scandal by seducing a member of Parliament as well as a young
captain in the Royal Navy. Both men were married, and if they had taken their pleasures discretely with a
professional, no one would have said anything. Seducing supposedly innocent maidens of good family was
another story, and both men had been ruined. One of Cherise's suitors had even challenged the captain to a
duel, and had Ryan not interceded, there would have been more than one death duel fought over Cherise. She
had pouted that Ryan had spoiled her fun, but all in all, it had been a delicious season for both of them.

"Listen, my sweet rose, I have another appointment tonight. I can see that you are hungry. Why don't you hunt
after we are done, and then go to my rooms and wait for me. I won't be too late tonight. That is, if you have an
appetite for something more."

"You know I do, Ryan. I will meet you at your rooms, but tell me you are not off to meet another woman?"

"Cherise, how could you think I would have the desire for someone less than you tonight?"

Cherise laughed, again in a very good mood over Ryan's flirtations, then she turned serious. "Ryan, I think you
might have made a mistake bringing this woman to Edinburgh with you. Edmund says she is very young. It
might have been better if you had stayed away with her longer."

"Why?" Ryan asked, not the least annoyed by Cherise's criticism.

"Alyssa hasn't said much in words, you understand, but I think she is afraid that this is your first step in

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gathering support to take over Edinburgh. You have always had tremendous personal power. What you have
lacked are adherents, at least adherents that Alyssa knows about."

"And one infant vampire will make me that much more a threat?" Ryan asked raising her eyebrows.

"It's not Carissa herself who is a threat to someone like Alyssa. I hope you have told Carissa that she is no match
for the queen. Alyssa will see this as a pattern. She is watching all of us more closely, and I think she is trying to
buy human spies in Cramond to have you and your lady watched all the time."

Ryan nodded. She was not displeased with these revelations. She knew that Cherise was not in Alyssa's inner
council; no woman was. But Cherise was very adept at judging a change in atmosphere and a shift in the
balance of power.

"Are you in danger if you associate with me, my dear? I would not want to put you in harm's way."

"No, she disregards me most of the time. I'm just an empty headed female," Cherise winked at Ryan.

"More fool she. Can you tell me who she has watching Carissa? And do you know what she has learned about
Carissa?"

"Well, she has told everyone but Edmund to stay away from Carissa, at least openly. She wants him to be the
only contact Carissa has with the court so she can't identify anyone else." Ryan nodded at the wisdom of this. "I
think she hopes that Edmund will seduce Carissa."

There was a question in Cherise's voice, but Ryan just smiled. "And what did Edmund report? What is Alyssa's
opinion of her?"

"Well, Edmund was impressed, so Alyssa is too. You know how she dotes on him. I think she is a bit jealous,
too, because Edmund quite obviously found Carissa attractive. Frankly, I think if there is going to be any
seducing done, it will be Carissa who could seduce him."

Ryan laughed. "I don't doubt she could, if she wanted to. Go on."

"Edmund said that she has very good control for someone her age, and that she obviously has a strong will. He
also said she was very smart and that you had obviously taught her about our kind. But he thinks that, because
she is so young, she could easily be subverted."

"That is his ego speaking. Did he mention that Carissa spotted him when he was still supposedly hidden?"

"No! Did she really? She must be very powerful if she can spy someone as experienced as Eddy. Ryan, what is
she really like?"

"She is young and full of passion. She is in love with me, but you know how those things go with our kind."

Cherise sighed. "She will learn, unfortunately."

"Yes, she will. In the meantime, I enjoy her very much. I hadn't intended to make her, but she asked, and it was
difficult to resist all that passion. So now you know I have my weak moments too."

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Cherise raised one eyebrow. "Once in eight hundred years?"

"Actually, twice."

"Twice? Who is the first?"

"That was long before you were born, when I was a young and foolish vampire."

"You were never foolish, Ryan."

"Oh, you don't know the magnitude of my folly, Cherise. I actually fell in love with the first one."

"You? How long ago was that?"

Ryan smiled so that even her eyes twinkled. "Over six hundred years ago."

"Oh, you were an infant then. Even infant vampires fall in love."

"Infant? And how old are you? Still not old enough that I can't take you over my knee."

Cherise squealed, "Oh, promise?"

"I promise. Now off with you. I need to do some business."

Ryan sat back and poured the last glass of wine from the bottle. She watched Cherise leave so discretely that
none of the tavern patrons knew she had been there. She had talent. Ryan wondered why she could not be
content with a companion like Cherise. They had fun together, in and out of bed, and the woman was smart
enough to entertain Ryan's mind as well as her body. Yet it just wasn't enough. Something made Ryan strive
after more: a true companion as Brynn had been. That had ended in pain and disaster. Ryan had sworn never
again to make the same mistake, yet here she was once more in the same position. At least if it ended in disaster
this time, it would truly be the end. Ryan had not told Carissa, but even as Clywd was the last descendant of
Kelsa, Carissa herself was the last descendant of Emily's other daughter. Since vampires were sterile, there
would be no more descendants of Brynn. This was Ryan's last chance. There was some comfort in that thought,
even as there was some pain. Ryan drank the last of the wine and then slipped out of the tavern as
inconspicuously as Cherise had.

Ryan's second appointment of the night lay in the twisted tenements that grew up over the years under the
shadow of the castle itself. Rather then build outward, people had clung to the skirts of Edinburgh Castle for
protection from the wars that had spilled over Scotland seemingly in every generation. There was a time when
the stench of the city was such that it could be smelled downwind all the way to Cramond. Ryan wondered if
that was the real reason a royal residence had been established at Holyrood. The smell of the tenements would
be particularly strong in the castle when the wind blew in the right direction. Modern sanitation had helped,
but the tenements still stank, particularly on a damp night such as this. Ryan watched where she stepped and
continued on her way in the black fog. There were no street lamps in these dark alleys, but there were thieves
and beggars. Ryan casually chose a thug who was hidden in the alleyway, ready to spring out at some
unsuspecting passerby. Instead, Ryan surprised him and had him forced against the back wall before he even
knew he had been taken. She drank deeply of this one and left his unconscious body slumped against the wall.

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The vampire Alyssa had sent to follow Ryan felt the call of the hunt himself as the smell of fresh blood hit him.
He pulled himself under control, but the struggle cost him precious moments, and when he turned to find Ryan
again, the other vampire was long gone. Alyssa would not be pleased with him, but at least he could report that
Ryan had met Cherise tonight. He would go back to Ryan's rooms and wait for her to return. After all, what
did it matter if Ryan hunted the slums tonight?

Ryan smiled when she checked behind her. There was nothing like fresh blood to confuse another vampire. She
knew she had been followed. She knew that the man had seen her meet Cherise, but undoubtedly, Cherise
knew it as well. It was no secret that Cherise sometimes shared her bed, and Ryan needed to have some reason
for skulking around the city tonight. Let Alyssa make what she would out of her assignation with Cherise.

Ryan found her contact deep in a filthy alley. He had a kind of nest under the stairs leading up the side of the
building. Ryan waited while the man dealt with two customers. Then she took her place on an upturned barrel
that was marginally cleaner than the littered ground.

The Rat was as gray as his surroundings. He stank of cheap gin and other less savory smells. He was a forger of
great skill, and Ryan had used his services from time to time over the ages. If the Rat had a real name, only he
remembered it. He was not so old as Ryan, but a good two hundred years older than Alyssa. Some of her court
wondered why she tolerated him. Others wondered if Alyssa was merely the Rat's figurehead, for no one would
follow a man with so little charisma. With all his knowledge and power, he lived like the poorest, filthiest of the
mortal poor. While many vampires could charm their victims into their beds, the Rat had all the charm of his
name. Thus, the Rat's other peculiarity was that he had never made another vampire in all his long years. Why
give a mortal the power to become a rival when the Rat could not command his or her allegiance?

The Rat looked up from the document he was working on. "I wondered when you would arrive," he said in a
surprisingly melodious voice. He wore a pair of half glasses perched on his beak like nose. Ryan knew they
were a pure affectation since vampires did not suffer from such bodily weaknesses. The Rat took off his glasses
and looked closely at Ryan.

"Is she the one?"

"I think so. I suppose only time will tell. Meanwhile, I hear Alyssa has her knickers in a snit over her."

The Rat laughed. "That she does. One minute, she thinks you've gone soft and taken a pretty girl to revive your
juices. The next minute, she is sure that your pretty pet is some sort of demon you conjured to end her rule."

Ryan snorted. "I'm the one who put Alyssa on her throne. Why, after all this time, would I want to displace
her?"

"Haven't you learned yet that reason has little to do with a vampire's actions. Ryan, you are old enough to
know how addictive power is, and how it can addle the mind."

"I know, Rat. Why do you think I have refused to get caught up in those games all these years? I tasted enough
power in my youth. I held life and death in my hands. how could the petty ploys of Alyssa's court attract me
now?"

"Ahhhh, if I had your face, Ryan, if I had your power, I would be king of the world. There, you see, I'm not
immune either. Why should Alyssa think you are?"

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"Why do you serve her, Rat?"

"Who else would I serve? You refuse to be served. And look at me, Ryan. Even the humans shun me when they
have no need for my services. I tried being a hermit, but I'm a social person. That surprises you, does it?"

"No, not really. Hermits have a different kind of drive, Rat. I suppose, since Alyssa needs you, the court has to
tolerate you, but is that enough for you?"

"Oh, they don't just tolerate me. They fear me. Do you know how I enjoy that, Ryan? If I can't have respect, if I
can't be liked, then fear will serve me well."

Ryan nodded. She knew that Alyssa herself always treated the Rat with respect and even a distant kind of
affection. Ryan did not ask why the Rat helped Ryan if he valued Alyssa's patronage so much. The line was
clearly drawn between the two. The Rat knew Ryan had no intention of harming Alyssa. The queen was
actually very good at keeping the vampire population in line. That saved Ryan the trouble of having to police
her own small domain herself. Ryan and the Rat shared a common goal, However, and to that extent, the Rat
would help Ryan in any way he could. But if Ryan ever threatened Alyssa herself, then his loyalty would
disappear.

"Has she sent out messengers yet?"

"Yes, just this week. Three to Europe and two south to England."

"No one to Ireland?"

"You think he is there?"

"I heard a rumor that he might be in Dublin."

"I will pass it on to Alyssa. If it turns out to be right, she will be very happy with me. But meanwhile, Ryan, you
need to disarm some of her fear. Give her a week so that she can send someone to Ireland, and then make
arrangements for her to meet your pet. She needs to feel that you respect her, otherwise, you may find yourself
with a war on your hands."

"You're right, Rat. I don't want her to feel too threatened. In the end, she needs to remain neutral."

"I can manage that as long as you don't push her too hard."

"Thank you for your council, my friend. I've rented a house in town. I will furnish it for a party thrown in honor
of Alyssa. And I will have a very special gift for her."

"Good for you. I can't wait to meet your pet."

"She may surprise you, Rat."

Ryan dropped a few bills into the Rat's tray that disappeared in a flash of the man's hand. The money was not
in payment for the information but a window dressing for the two people who were waiting a discreet distance
away to do some business with the Rat. Ryan nodded to them as she slipped into the darkness. It was time to

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return to her rooms and the pleasures that awaited her there. She took a single deep breath to clear her lungs
once she left the tenements. Unfortunately, some of the smell clung to Ryan as she worked her way back to her
own tidy dwelling. Cherise would probably demand she take a bath before they made love, but all in all, Ryan
decided that she would rather be clean of the stench of poverty as well.

12

Revelations

It had been hard leaving Clywd behind, but Carissa needed to talk to Reesha before introducing the boy to
Master McKay. In some ways, Carissa was glad to have her hand forced. It was getting more and more difficult
not to take what she wanted from Reesha each time they made love. It was time Reesha knew just what Carissa
was, for she meant too much to Carissa for her to take without asking. Now, as Carissa watched the
countryside flash by the carriage windows, she felt a melancholy settling on her. There was a good possibility
that this would be the last time she saw the beautiful singer. If Reesha refused her or sent her away, Carissa
would abide by her wishes. She loved the woman with a soft tenderness that was half sadness for the fact that
Reesha would grow old and die. She could understand well the temptation of making another vampire of
someone you love, yet she was wise enough to realize that immortality was not always a blessing. It had been a
curse for Clywd, and Carissa suspected it would be a curse for Reesha as well.

Reesha's rooms were softly lit with just a few candles. The warm tone of her skin was complemented by the
warm tones of the mahogany furniture. She wore a robe Carissa had had made for her in a rich turquoise blue
that enhanced her coloring as the style enhanced her figure. Carissa looked deep into her lover's eyes and was
lost in the passion she saw there. She went into Reesha's arms as if she was a ship coming home to port. They
kissed with a tenderness that turned into desire. In a moment, Reesha's hands were on the closures of Carissa's
gown. Her lips trailed down Carissa's neck until they rested at the top of the deep cleft between her breasts.
Carissa moaned as Reesha's tongue darted in between her breasts, making her shiver. She so wanted to
surrender to Reesha's need, but instead, she stepped back.

"We need to talk," Carissa said.

Reesha took a deep breath. "What is it, my love?"

Carissa drew Reesha to the sofa and pulled her down with her. She sat far enough away so she could half face
Reesha, but she took both of the singer's hands in her own.

"Reesha, have you heard any rumors about Lord Wolf? Any dark rumors?"

"Yes, but I've discounted most of them, knowing you. I suspect it is true enough that Ryan is not someone to be
crossed or that she has a violent temper, but," Reesha smiled, "I doubt very much that she is a centuries-old
demon that eats babies for breakfast."

Carissa looked directly into Reesha's eyes so she would understand that she was serious. "She definitely does not
eat babies for breakfast."

Reesha's eyes opened wider with surprise. "No one ever sees her in daylight. That is why they say she is a
demon, or rather he, since they assume Lord Wolf is a man. He will disappear for some years, and then his

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"son" will come back, but until you, he has never brought a wife here. Are you saying all these rumors are
true?"

"Yes. Ryan is over eight hundred years old. She doesn't age, although she has learned how to make herself look
older at times. She is a vampire. Do you know what that is, Reesha?"

"A monster. A demon that sucks blood." Reesha freed one of her hands and made a Gypsy sign against the evil
eye. "The Gypsies have many legends about vampires, but they all agree that vampires have no souls. That
they kill without mercy, without remorse, for death feeds them as much as blood does."

"I suspect that some of those legends are about Ryan herself. But it is not true that vampires need to kill when
they feed. I was Ryan's human lover for five years, and though she drank my blood, she never harmed me in
any way."

Reesha's face had gone white. Her hand was ice cold in Carissa's, and there was no blood in her lips. For a
moment, Carissa was afraid that Reesha was going to faint, but then the woman took a deep breath.

"So you are a vampire as well. Are you telling me this because you have come for me tonight?"

Carissa smiled. "I would never harm you, never touch you in a way you did not wish. Ryan tells me that
vampires do not love, and per-haps they do lose the capacity over the centuries, but I love you very much,
Reesha. Please believe me that I would never hurt you. Never."

Reesha got up and moved to the window. "That's why you could never come here in daylight, why you have
always left before dawn. That much of the legend is true, isn't it?"

"Yes. The sun would destroy me. It's not that I haven't wanted to stay with you, but it would have been too
dangerous."

"So, why are you telling me this tonight?"

"In part because Ryan has a young vampire friend whom she would like Master McKay to take on as a student.
The boy is very talented, but when he was changed into a vampire, he lost the opportunity to be a musician.
His gift of music is the most important thing to him, but he needs a chance to study."

"If he is talented, then McKay will be happy to have him, vampire or not."

Carissa smiled. She could see that Reesha was breathing more easily with the explanation.

"Reesha, I didn't want to risk your discovering what I am accidentally. I didn't want you to be hurt by the
revelation, but it is also true that I want more from you. I want to take you, as you said. Each time we make
love, that temptation is there. I want you in that way as well."

"Then what is stopping you? From what the stories say, you are strong enough to take me whether I will it or
not. You are strong enough to take whatever you want from me."

Carissa saw Reesha's shoulders shaking, and she realized the woman was crying. She got up and stood directly
behind Reesha and watched her stiffen, as if expecting a blow. Carissa sighed softly.

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"I love you. I will never take from you what you do not give freely. Are you afraid of me, Reesha?"

"Yes…"

"You know that, if I wanted to, I could take you, and you would never even remember it. It is not just physical
strength that is a vampire's gift. If you looked into my eyes, I could seduce your mind, your very soul, and you
would come to me. But I love you, and to seduce you like that… It would destroy everything. You would no
longer be my lover, my friend. You would merely be my prey. Please don't be afraid. I would never do that to
you. If you ask me to leave now and never come back, I will, though it would break my heart."

"I'm not afraid that you will take me like that. You have promised, and I believe you."

"Then why are you still afraid?"

"Because I love you." Reesha's voice was a thread of a whisper. "If… if you take… if I give you what you want,
what more use will you have for me? Isn't the vampire's passion for the hunt?"

"Oh, beloved." Now Carissa did put her arms around Reesha, kissing her neck from behind. "I will never tire of
you, never stop wanting you. Shall I tell you how it is? Try to describe how it feels? Ryan did not tire of me in
all those years; she still hasn't tired of me. What makes you think that I would tire of you?"

"But Ryan hunts others now."

"Yes, we both do." Reesha began to pull away, but Carissa held her firmly. "I don't mean you, silly. This was
not a hunt." Yet, even as she said the words, Carissa realized it was a lie. This was a hunt as well, just one of a
very different kind. She closed her eyes a moment, trying to decide how honest to be. She led Reesha back to
the couch and seated her once more.

"Beloved, I need to hunt about once a week. More often if I am using a lot of my strength. I usually choose
some drunk as a victim, and I take only as much of his blood as he can give without harm. It is true that most
young vampires cannot control their appetites, but Ryan helped me over the first few months; she helped me
train my will so that I need not become a killer. Yes, there is great pleasure for me in the hunt itself, stalking the
prey and cornering it. That is what I have become: a predator." Reesha shivered at the description. "But I don't
only take from my victims, Reesha. They never remember what happened to them; they wake up with a
memory of great pleasure. This is part of a vampire's gift as well: We can feed in such a way that will give great
pain or great pleasure. Some vampires are monsters giving as much pain as they can. Most vampires are more
likely to give pleasure because seduction is part of the hunt. I give pleasure because I feel it is a fair exchange for
what I take."

Reesha's eyes narrowed with distaste. "You mean you sleep with your victims?"

"Oh, good gracious, no!"

The disgust was so plain in Carissa's voice that Reesha had to laugh.

"Then I don't understand what kind of pleasure you mean."

"Ryan says it's a bit like snake's venom. When we bite someone, we can inject him or her with a kind of narcotic

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drug. There is, of course, some pain when we bite, but if we choose to inject the drug, then the pain is quickly
followed by feelings of, well, pleasure is not an adequate description. Feeding normally doesn't take that long,
and when the victim wakes up, his own imagination supplies a vague memory of a woman who gave him
pleasure."

"I see. Have you ever fed and given pain instead?"

"Once. I went hunting after seeing you, and I heard cries. It was a girl. I think she was eleven or twelve. Two
men were in the process of raping her. I took them hard, making sure they remembered the girl and all the
pain that followed." Carissa looked down feeling a bit ashamed of the pleasure she had taken from their pain.

"Good! I would have gelded them myself. What happened to the girl?"

Carissa smiled at Reesha's vehemence. "She ran away as soon as I distracted the two men. I hope she found
someplace safe."

"There is no real safety for a child like that."

"I know. I would have taken her to Master McKay if she hadn't run off, but I didn't get a chance."

"Carissa, I don't know if you know it, but Ryan is keeping two of the dancers from the hall." Reesha looked with
some concern at her friend.

"Yes, I know. Ryan prefers to know her victims and to… to show them other kinds of pleasures when she
feeds."

"You don't mind?"

"No. Ryan will take very good care of the girls. She is fiercely protective of what is hers. They will not have to
worry about how to take care of themselves when they are too old to dance. But what she shares with them is
not the least like what she shares with me. I thought I would be jealous, Reesha, but all I feel toward them is
happiness that they are lucky enough to have someone like Ryan to care for them."

"You are a very unusual woman."

"Ryan is even more unusual because she knows that I do love you, that you are very much more to me than
those girls are to her. You know, she encouraged me to become your lover. I think she knows that if what we
have between us is going to last over the centuries, then we will both need to be free to a certain extent."

Reesha looked down. "I didn't expect to feel so much for you. I knew you were taken, that we could never have
more than we have now. I tried to keep from loving you too much, but I can't help myself. You would think, at
my age, I would be in better control."

"Do you want me to go away? To leave you?" It was a hard question to ask, but Carissa needed to give Reesha
that choice.

"No. I would rather have what we do have than be without you."

Carissa kissed Reesha gently, caressing her hair back from her face.

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"Thank you, my love. I do understand how hard it is. Ryan doesn't love me. She says she is no longer capable of
love, and knowing her history, I understand that."

"Then why do you stay with her?" Reesha asked, astonished, and then she answered her own question.
"Because you love her. She is a fool, you know. No matter how much pain she has had in the past, you are
worth loving for yourself alone."

"Thank you, Reesha. You are worthy of love too. More than I can give you."

"But you do love me. Carissa… About the other issue, I'm not sure… I… I need time."

"Of course, my love." Carissa kissed Reesha gently. "Why don't we go visit Master McKay? I could ask him if
he will teach Clywd. He is very anxious to find out if he has a teacher. And maybe there will be some music
tonight."

Reesha nodded. "I need to change. Thank you for understanding, love."

"No, thank you. I was so afraid I would lose you tonight."

"Then why did you tell me?" The question was the same as before, but the intent was different.

"Because you deserve to know."

There was only a small group at Master McKay's that evening. It was clear that he was coaching the musicians,
so Reesha and Carissa sat quietly and listened until the lesson was over. Carissa could see the improvements in
the old warehouse already. Ryan had repaired the badly leaking roof, and there were fresh timbers supporting
the loft where McKay's young charges slept. There were even room dividers now so that the boys and girls
could have some privacy from one another, and Carissa recognized the fabric curtaining the openings to the
rooms as having come from an unused portion of the manor. She suspected that there were real beds upstairs
as well now. Her own contributions had been in clothing, new and used, as well as coal and food. She decided
to take a look at what old furnishings there were in the attic of the manor and replace some of the most worn
pieces in McKay's large living area.

"Well, what brings the two of you here today?" Master McKay asked after his students had left for the night.

"I came to ask you if you would consider taking on a young piano student."

"Tell me about him."

"He is a protege of my husband." Carissa had told Master McKay that she was Lady Wolf after Ryan had
bought the warehouse. She wanted to let him know that his home was secure, but more than that, they were
becoming friends, and she didn't want to be dishonest about her identity. She hoped to be able to help some of
his charges find work, and thus she also had to let him know that she had more resources than he may have
realized. One boy had already gone to work at Ryan's mine, and two others were anxious to become sailors on
the ships Ryan and Carissa were building. In the meantime, they were learning to read and write as well as
picking up some skills at a local chandler's.

"I owe your husband more than enough to take on any student he sends me." Carissa could see the struggle in

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McKay's face as he strove not to feel resentment.

"Perhaps, but we would not expect you to take him if you did not think he was worth teaching. I am here to set
up an audition for him. I have heard him play, Maestro," Carissa said, using the Italian word denoting a master
of music, "and he has excellent technique. What he is lacking is the ability to put his soul into the music. And I
expect he has many other things he would like to learn from you. He heard you play on a few occasions, and
he admires you greatly."

"He heard me play? How old is he? I haven't played on the concert stage in something like twenty years."

Reesha lifted an eyebrow at Carissa, amused at the verbal trap her friend had set for herself.

"I'm not exactly sure how old he is. He was sixteen when he was made into a vampire, but I don't know exactly
when that happened. His name is Clywd Ramsey."

"Oh." Master McKay was silent for a few moments as he digested the fact that Clywd was a vampire. "I had
heard of a young prodigy named Clywd, about twenty-five years ago, it was. He disappeared suddenly. And
as I think of it, the then-Lord Wolf was his patron. Or is it the current Lord Wolf? Is your husband a vampire
too?"

"Yes."

"And you, my dear?" McKay said, looking at Reesha with compassion in his eyes.

"Yes, I am a vampire as well."

McKay sat back letting his breath out. "Well, since I myself have invited you into my home, and Lord Wolf
actually owns this building, this has become a market where you can find waiting victims any night."

Carissa smiled. "So you know that about vampires. If you like, I will show you how to ward this place against
both my husband and myself. But you have my word that neither of us will ever touch you or any of your
charges, now or in the future. Moreover, since Ryan owns this place, it is warded against any other vampires
ever entering here. Clywd himself does not touch human blood. He refuses to do harm to people and drinks
only animal blood. Ryan says there is a slaughterhouse not too far from here where Clywd can feed."

"Reason says I should not trust you, my dear, but my heart says otherwise. What do you say, Reesha? Shall I
invite this young vampire into my home? I do have a responsibility to the young ones who live here."

"If Lord Wolf or Carissa had wanted to do you harm, they could have done so already, McKay. I think that
Lord Wolf has a good deal more use for you as a music teacher than a snack."

McKay laughed heartily. "I'd be a stringy old snack for any wolf. Very well, Carissa, send young Clywd here
tomorrow night, and I will see what kind of skill he has. Now that that is settled, I have some new songs for
you, Reesha. Let's not waste the opportunity."

"Yes, Master," Reesha said, winking at Carissa.

Carissa leaned back on the dilapidated sofa and listened with pleasure while McKay and Reesha went through

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three new songs. She never tired of hearing Reesha's rich, smoky voice. Even the tedious process of practicing
each song phrase by phrase did not bore Carissa. She was fascinated by how the singer not only learned the
new words and music but also how she planned each breath, each sound, until the songs were more than words
and music, but emotion as well. The power of the finished pieces fed Carissa's soul, and she knew that Clywd
would find what he needed in this place.

It was late when Carissa and Reesha returned to the singer's rooms. The streets were completely still, shrouded
in a soft mist that muffled sound. Carissa let her senses expand to make sure that there was no one out there to
harm them. She could see the slumbering human forms all around her in the town, but there were no brightly
flowing patterns nearby that would signal some thief stalking them. Carissa also looked for the signs of a
vampire, but this close to dawn, she did not really expect anyone. Sometimes she tired of all the precautions she
had to take. It would be lovely to just be able to stroll the night, unwary of all the other hunters, but then, if she
were still human, she could not be here at all. If she were still human, she would be prey, not hunter.

The tavern where Carissa's coachman, Timothy, usually waited for her was long closed. He was huddled on the
seat of the coach, the horses standing hipshot and drowsing in the traces. Carissa sent Reesha to her doorway
and stopped to talk to Timothy. Reesha could hear them exchanging words, but the fog muffled the sounds
making them unintelligible. The man finally threw his hands up, and bringing the horses awake with a rattle of
the reins, the carriage moved off into the early morning darkness, leaving Carissa standing on the cobbles.
Reesha shook her head, not understanding the implications.

"Let's go inside," Carissa said softly.

"Aren't you going home?"

"No, I want to stay with you, if you will let me."

"Well, it's a little late to ask permission now," Reesha said. The muffled sound of the hoofbeats had already been
lost to the night.

"I could always go back to Master McKay's and beg a bed for the day."

"Now why would you do that when I have a perfectly comfortable one right here?" Reesha took Carissa in her
arms and kissed her. There was no passion in the kiss, but a great deal of tenderness. "I am tired, my love."

"I know. I'm getting drowsy too. I have a very hard time staying up once the sun rises."

"Why are you here then?"

"I asked you to trust me last night, but it occurred to me that I haven't shown you very much trust myself. I'm
putting my life into your hands, Reesha."

"Well, my girl, you pick a great time for dramatic gestures. I'm asleep on my feet. McKay knows how to work
a singer till she drops."

"Then we should go up to bed." Carissa slipped her arm around Reesha as they climbed the stairs taking it
away only when the singer searched in her reticule for her key. Reesha's rooms were lit only by the gaslight
shining through the window, and Carissa guided her into the bedroom.

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Reesha smiled and began taking off her clothing. Carissa watched her with pleasure for a few moments, and
then began stripping off her own dress. She got completely undressed, and then with Reesha's eyes on her, she
stretched like a cat showing off her bountiful breasts and the sweet curves of her body. She climbed into the bed
with Reesha and reached out to take her lover's hand.

"I love you," they both said with one voice and drifted off to sleep.

The sun was still high when Carissa woke. It was some movement, some small sound signaling danger that
brought her to instant awareness. Her eyes adapted to the dim light immediately, and she could make out
Reesha standing by the heavy drapes that covered the southward facing windows. If Reesha opened the
curtains, Carissa would be dead, horribly dead as the sun burned her body to ash. Reesha lit a candle and
noticed that Carissa was awake.

"If I opened the drapes, what would happen?"

"I would burn to death." Carissa deliberately threw off the blankets exposing her naked body. "It would be
quick, I think, but painful."

Reesha shuddered. "If you are going to stay here during the day, then I will have shutters put up. I don't want
to risk accidentally moving the curtains and doing something horrible to you."

Carissa smiled sleepily. "Thank you, my love."

"I'm going to go have breakfast. Do you need to sleep some more?" ' "Yes. Until the sun sets. Ryan can get up
in the early afternoon, but infant vampires need to sleep."

Reesha smiled and kissed her sleepy lover. She slipped on her robe and went into the other room to make
something to eat.

When Carissa woke again, the sun was just over the horizon. She got up and stretched again. She was a bit
hungry herself, but she could hunt later. She went to the window and opened the curtains just enough to look
out. About now, Clywd would be climbing into the carriage to come into town to see Master McKay. She
hoped that their mutual love for music would allow them to work together, and that Clywd would find what he
needed with the maestro. She scanned the street, her tongue peeking between her lips as she considered all that
wonderful hot blood down there just waiting for her. She wondered if Reesha would let her keep a few dresses
here, for she felt in the mood to play the streetwalker tonight. Then she froze as she spotted another vampire.
He was going into the tavern where Timothy usually waited. Was it coincidence? Or was the vampire watching
Carissa? But that meant one of her kind had to have followed her here the night before. This one was not very
skilled at concealing himself, and Carissa was sure she would have spotted him last night. Carissa took a
moment to still her heart and breathing. It had to be a coincidence, but that did not mean that the vampire
could not be a danger to her. She would have to be very careful leaving tonight.

Reesha was sitting in her most comfortable chair reading the newspaper. Ever since Carissa had helped her
invest some of her money, the singer had taken a great interest in trade. She kept abreast of the news and often
asked how one event or another might affect her investments. For the most part, Carissa had to plead
ignorance, but she was learning a great deal by passing along Reesha's questions to Ryan who would often look
surprised and thoughtful. It might take a few days, but Ryan always came back with answers for Carissa. Ryan
had joked that perhaps it was Reesha who should be advising Ryan on her investments since often the singer's

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questions hinted at relationships that Ryan had never considered. Just now, with a pair of glasses perched on
the tip of her nose, Reesha looked both sexy and scholarly: a combination Carissa found irresistible. She came
up behind Reesha and slipped her hands down over both breasts.

Reesha's gasp of surprise changed into a moan of pleasure as Carissa kneaded her breasts, tugging gently on
the nipples through the thin fabric of Reesha's robe.

"Come back to bed." It was as much command as request, and Reesha rose quickly to comply.

Carissa was still naked, but Reesha had slipped on the same robe in which she had greeted Carissa the night
before. Now Carissa held both ends of the belt in her hands, pulling Reesha closer and kissing her face. The
older woman seemed to give up to the pleasure, and Carissa smiled happily knowing she would be in control
this night. She slowly untied the belt, letting the robe fall open. Then, still holding the ends of the belt, she
stepped back to admire Reesha's body as it was framed by the fabric. Carissa's senses told her just how aroused
Reesha already was. She smiled in anticipation, but tonight she would tease the singer until she begged.

Carissa walked behind Reesha and pulled the robe off of her shoulders by the collar. She took the abundance of
Reesha's hair in her hands and lifted it away from her neck. Carissa kissed Reesha's nape, her tongue flicking
out to taste the sweet flesh. Her hands were on Reesha's shoulders, massaging and caressing, as she licked down
her spine, planting little kisses as she went. Reesha moaned, her head thrown back in pleasure, as Carissa
reached around and cupped her breasts, squeezing so that Reesha's nipples were trapped between her fingers.
On Reesha's back, Carissa drew lazy circles with her tongue. She could feel the muscles quiver slightly against
her lips. The satin flesh felt warm and held a spicy scent, igniting Carissa's own passion.

Carissa knelt behind Reesha, leaning her cheek against the firm ass. Her hands were less gentle on Reesha's
breasts now, squeezing the nipples until Reesha squealed and writhed. Carissa began kissing, licking Reesha's
ass cheeks, taking little bites as she moved up and down over the smooth, soft flesh. She released Reesha's
breasts now, and caressed down her body, her fingers stroking over the soft belly, making swirls as she moved
down to Reesha's thighs. She brought her hands down and around to Reesha's ass, cupping both cheeks and
squeezing them.

"Oh God, Carissa…"

Carissa ran both her thumbs down along the cleft between Reesha's cheeks. She pulled the cheeks apart until
her anus was revealed. Carissa rubbed her face against Reesha's ass, pressing her nose between her cheeks. She
felt Reesha squirm, a fresh flush of essence leaking out of her cunt. Carissa tentatively licked around Reesha's
hole, and the soft scream that forced its way through Reesha's ragged breaths told her how very much this
excited Reesha. Carissa bit the edge of each cheek and then let them close. She would come back to explore this
new site another time.

Carissa licked down to the backs of Reesha's thighs, knowing how very sensitive they were. When she slipped
her hand between Reesha's legs, she could feel Reesha's essence clewing her wiry hair. Carissa pressed up
between the very wet lips and rubbed against the hard clit. Reesha's knees gave, and Carissa caught her and
lowered her to the floor. She knelt, looking down at her lover.

"Carissa, please, I want you to take me tonight."

Carissa's laugh was deep and throaty. "Oh, I plan to, my love. I plan to take you more than once."

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"No… Not just that. I… I want you to take my blood. I want to give you that."

Carissa looked surprised and then nodded. She leaned over Reesha, and the singer arched her throat offering it
to her. It was a sublime gesture of submission, of trust and love so exquisite that Carissa would have cried if she
could. She kissed Reesha's throat and felt her stiffen in fear, but Reesha still offered her most vulnerable throat.
Carissa felt the pulse points throbbing against her lips. It was as if Reesha's heart was beating for them both.
Fire danced in Carissa's vision as she felt the hot blood just under the surface of the fragile skin. She licked
along Reesha's throat, grazing it with her sharp fangs. This time, Reesha did not stiffen with fear but writhed
with pleasure. Carissa slipped her hand between Reesha's wet lips again, stroking her clit until Reesha's body
began to convulse against the floor.

"Please …" Reesha screamed as her need rose beyond all reason, all fear.

Carissa plunged her very wet fingers deep into Reesha at the same moment she bit her throat. Cum gushed
around Carissa's hand as the blood filled her mouth. She felt Reesha's orgasm as if it were her own. Doth
women floated on a new plane of pleasure, their bodies moving together as they joined body and soul. The
blood was spiced with the scent of Reesha's sex. Carissa drank and felt complete. All parts of her, even the
demon of her hunger—the coiled dragon that always waited to strike—all parts of her were filled with pleasure
like she had never felt before, not even at Ryan's hands. This was power; this was pure ecstasy. This was what
made her whole.

The pleasure seemed to last a millennium. There was no peak and fall, just an incredible spiral that both women
rode climbing in joy and beauty. It could go on forever, whispered the dragon, but the moment Carissa saw
Reesha's blood begin to dip into the deeper colors of red, she stopped. There was no battle. The dragon snarled
once and then curled into sleep in her belly. Carissa licked the blood from her lips and took three deliberate
breaths. She was still high with the pleasure. It would take a long time to come down from this glory. The scent
of Reesha's sex attracted her, and she moved lower on her lover's body, drinking now the sweet wine that
followed the headier liquor of blood. It was such a delicate taste, and such an intoxicating one. Carissa was only
half aware of Reesha's body responding in pleasure to the strokes of her tongue. She drank deeply of the new
flood, dipping her tongue into the depths of the sweet woman who had given her so much. She looked up at
Reesha and saw that her eyes were glazed with exhaustion.

Carissa smiled and kissed her lover gently on the lips and then on each eyelid. She rose and lifted Reesha lightly
in her arms, carrying her to the bed. She tucked her in, almost as if she were a child, kissing her forehead and
blowing out the candle. She could see well enough without the extra light. For several moments, Carissa stood
looking down at her sleeping lover. "I love you," she whispered. There were no other words she could say at this
moment.

The wine was a pale reminder of what Carissa had just shared with Reesha. She sipped it, watching the woman
sleep. She was so grateful, so very grateful that Reesha had given her this gift. She had hunted before and made
wild love with Ryan afterward; she had been Ryan's prey, rutting with her in bed as the vampire drank her
blood. There was pleasure and pain and joyous glory in all of that, but when Reesha had arched her throat, had
given her that gift of trust… It was the single most precious memory in Carissa's life. There would never be
another moment like it again, no matter how long she lived, how many lovers she had. This must have been
what Ryan felt with Brynn when the woman had offered Ryan her blood, her very life. No wonder she had
loved her so much that no one else had ever succeeded in taking her place. It wasn't that Ryan was no longer

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capable of love. It was that no one could ever equal that gesture of submission, of trust, of sacrifice.

No one would ever be able to give Carissa what Reesha had that night. There was as much sadness in the
thought as there was pleasure. Life is a balance, of good and bad, of happiness and sadness. It was like the light
and darkness of the world: one could not exist without the other. Darkness gave meaning to light; pain gave
meaning to pleasure. Carissa wondered where she could find an artist to paint a portrait of Reesha for her.

"I will not forget you, ever," Carissa pledged in her mind. "No matter how long I exist, you will be in my heart.
You are my first. You will be my first forever. All through the ages, I will love you, as Ryan has loved Brynn."

13

At the Ball

"Do I really want to know what you did to Sir Donald?" Carissa asked over the customary glass of wine.

Ryan smiled. "Nothing very drastic. I just let some of my associates know that he no longer has my
confidence."

"In other words, you've ruined him. Ryan, he made a mistake. Was it really necessary to take away his
livelihood?"

"His mistake could cause all sorts of problems, problems that could take a generation to solve. I arranged for
our marriage to be recorded, but your father knows I am not a man. You wanted to be able to move in society
here. Neither of us will be able to if your father arrives and exposes me. It will take years for the talk to die
down. Indeed, I might have to abandon Edinburgh all together. This is my home, Carissa. Can you understand
that I don't want to lose it?"

Carissa sighed. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I didn't think of that. I would not want to lose this home either, and I have
been here less than a year. I can only imagine how much it means to you." Carissa felt torn. She wondered if
Ryan understood how very much she had cost not only Sir Donald but his family as well. But then, the man's
actions did have the potential to harm Ryan and her a great deal. Carissa decided that her loyalty had to be
with Ryan, as much as she did not like the idea of punishing a man so severely for such a mistake.

"What else did you do while you were away?" Carissa asked, changing the subject.

"I sent an agent to keep an eye on your father. If he decides to come here, we can go away for a while. I think
his interest would be in a confrontation with you, not in spreading gossip."

"The gossip could damage him as much as us if it got back to his associates."

"Really? I hadn't considered that." Ryan looked at Carissa speculatively. "Perhaps, then, I should write him
suggesting that discretion on his part would be in his own best interests."

"He's not a stupid man, Ryan, even if he is a vindictive one. Actually, it might be better if I wrote to my mother.
I think she is more than equal to the task of managing him. And I am feeling guilty for leaving her with so little
word of my well-being."

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Ryan nodded her agreement with Carissa's plan. "I also contacted my agents in Alyssa's court. I think it is time
you met her, my dear. If we wait much longer, she will be sure I am plotting against her. A man whose
judgment I value greatly suggested that I need to disarm the situation before it gets out of hand."

"Then you think I am ready to face her?"

"I think you will do well enough. I am proud of your progress, Carissa. I don't know of anyone else who could
have learned so much so quickly, including myself."

"You didn't have a teacher when you were first made. Everything you learned you had to discover for
yourself." Carissa smiled, very pleased with Ryan's compliment. "I am very fortunate to have you."

Ryan took Carissa's hand and kissed it. "I am fortunate as well."

"How will you arrange the meeting? Do we go to her? Or does she come here?"

"Neither. Alyssa and I have to keep the semblance of power. If we go to her, it will appear that we are
supplicants, and I can't afford to give that impression. And aside from the fact that I do not want to open up my
home to Alyssa or her followers, she cannot afford the loss of stature if she came here. We need to meet on more
neutral ground, and I am hoping that the solution I've found will flatter her."

"What did you do?" Carissa asked, knowing Ryan wanted to show off her cleverness.

"I've rented a townhouse in the most fashionable part of Edinburgh, and I plan to give a ball there for you and
Alyssa. It will take about a week to have the place furnished and all the arrangements made. I've invited some
of the local gentry as well as Alyssa. They will ensure everyone's good behavior, but she will also be flattered to
be introduced to them, as much as she says she disdains human society. I'm sure she will want a private
interview with you, but making the whole evening a very social affair should disarm her. And I plan to give her
the house as a gift afterward."

"A very generous gift." Carissa said her eyebrow lifting. "Will you leave your own servants in place?"

"No, she would not trust them, and I would not trust her followers with them. Alyssa is wealthy enough in her
own right. She can supply her own staff, but she could never have gotten a house in such a fashionable part of
town. The rental agents are the worst of snobs. Actually, I made sure they were when I hired them in the first
place."

"You hired them? You mean you own the house?"

"Yes, but Alyssa will not know that."

"If she ever found out, wouldn't that leave her very angry with you? After all, since it is your house, she is
completely vulnerable to you there."

"I have no intention of violating her home, and she is unlikely to find out it belongs to me. My agents do not
even know to whom it belongs."

Carissa nodded. "I shouldn't try to teach you strategy? Ryan. You've been at this a lot longer then I have."

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"That's true, but I do miss things, such as your father not wanting a scandal anymore than we do. I've lived
through so many different times that sometimes I forget that the rules have shifted. Change and growth come
hard after so many years."

"I haven't noticed any deficits, my lord. Have I told you how much I've missed you these last few days?"

Ryan smiled. "Why don't you come over here and show me?"

Carissa laughed and slipped into Ryan's lap. They kissed lightly and then more sensuously, Ryan's hands
possessive on Carissa's breasts.

"How did Clywd and Master McKay get on together?"

"He is thrilled to have Clywd as a pupil. I've had to pry Clywd out of there the past three nights. He comes back
here only because of his promise to you. He is very single-minded, Ryan."

Ryan nodded, agreeing. "Even as a boy, he would forget to eat or even walk into a wall when he was
concentrating on music." Ryan smiled in reminiscence. "I gave him a penny whistle when he was three years
old, and by the time he was five, he could play over a dozen tunes on it as well as any street player. His father
despaired of him ever having the sense to take over the business, but I told him to let the boy be, to let him
follow his dream. I wonder if I did the right thing."

"Why do you say that, Ryan? He adores music. I think it's all that has kept him sane all these years."

"Yes, but if I hadn't been his patron, hadn't so obviously cared for him, he never would have been made."

"How did it happen?"

"The old king, Talon, sent one of his followers to make him. He wanted to use the boy against me." Ryan
sighed. "Clywd was so young, so naive. He knew what I was, but it never occurred to him that another of my
kind would treat him differently than I did. The man seduced him and then made him. He thought to win
Clywd's allegiance by having the boy become his lover."

"Did it work?"

"The first time Clywd fed, he killed. He came running to me then. He begged me to destroy him. He couldn't
face being a murderer. I tried to teach him control, but he didn't have the proper discipline. Then Talon
kidnapped him, and I'm not sure what happened to him during that period. He has never spoken of it. When I
got him back, he was broken. The only thing I could think of was to take him someplace safe, someplace no
vampire would look for him."

"Among the werewolves."

"Yes. They taught him to hunt animals, and at least he could feed without guilt. He was still so withdrawn, so
soul dead. Until I thought to have a piano shipped up to the cabin," Ryan smiled. "He was like a child on his
birthday. He played for hours, even well past sunrise, and you know how hard it is for a young vampire to stay
awake when the sun comes up."

Ryan took a sip of wine and buried her face between Carissa's breasts. "Carissa, don't mention Clywd to Alyssa.

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She thinks he was unmade. He could not survive another round of vampire power struggles."

"I won't mention him. Did Talon sire Alyssa?"

"No, Alyssa was sired by the same vampire who made me."

Carissa's eyes widened with surprise. "Shouldn't that make you allies of a sort?"

Ryan snorted and said dryly, "There has never been any love lost between us. When I unmade Talon, there was
chaos in Edinburgh. He was probably hated and feared more than any other vampire I have ever met, and the
other vampires would not support any of his close allies. There was a brief, intense war where many mortals
were killed as well as many vampires unmade. I didn't want to have anything to do with the struggle. You
know I am not interested in that kind of control, but even my people were getting hurt, so I had to step in. I
unmade the two strongest of Talon's lieutenants and then supported Alyssa. Actually, once those two monsters
were gone, Alyssa did not have much trouble winning over supporters."

"Ryan, if you supported her, in a sense put her on her throne, why does she fear you so much?"

"Because she knows I can take the throne away from her. I am more powerful personally. I can unmake her.
And if I were to call on all those who owed me some debt of loyalty, I could probably undermine her power. I
might not be able to put myself on her throne all that easily at this point, but I could plunge Edinburgh back
into the kind of chaos that Talon's death brought about. Alyssa is no more and no less suspicious then most
vampires, myself included. For all our power, we have great vulnerabilities. If the humans ever unified to be rid
of us, they could destroy us all simply by the weight of their numbers. And given how violently some of us were
made, it does not engender great trust in our own kind. In many ways, I trust my human servants a great deal
more then I trust any vampire, with the possible exception of you, my dove."

Carissa smiled. "Thank you. I treasure that trust, Ryan."

"So Alyssa knows you have the power to unmake her. That means she won't try to destroy me, because she
knows it would be her death as well."

"Yes. And she won't try to use you in the same way Talon did Clywd. She saw what that brought him. I think
her best hope right now is that Trisk will be able to seduce you."

"Should I pretend to be more attracted to him than I am?"

Ryan growled. "Just how attracted to him are you?"

Carissa laughed. "He has lovely manners and is very handsome."

Ryan pinned Carissa's arms behind her and forced her head back. "Do not forget to whom you belong," Ryan
growled as she grazed Carissa's neck with her teeth.

"But, my lord, you've neglected me so of late," Carissa teased a bit breathlessly.

"Oh bloody hell! I can wait another day to settle things between Clywd and Master McKay and ensure their
safety." Ryan picked Carissa up and slung her over her shoulder, carrying her into the hall.

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"Greger!" Ryan bellowed. "Send Timothy after Clywd. I want the boy home before dawn."

Ryan paused to listen to Greger's acknowledgment and then continued up the stairs to Carissa's bedchamber.
Carissa could hear one of the maids tittering, but she was far beyond the day when that would make her blush.
She had plans herself on how tonight's encounter would proceed. If Ryan thought she would have complete
control, well, Carissa planned on some fire of her own.

Ryan kicked the bedroom door open and strode up to the bed. She tossed Carissa on the soft feather mattress
and leered at her before turning to shut the door. But in the moment Ryan's attention was turned, Carissa
slipped off the bed. She picked up one of the walking sticks that she kept in a stand, but one without any silver.

Ryan laughed, her eyebrows rising in amused surprise. "And just what do you think you are going to do with
that?"

"Why my lord, I thought it was time I gave you a demonstration of all that I have learned from you over the
past months."

Ryan laughed again and began stalking Carissa around the bed. She intended to corner her lover and then
teach her a thing or two about how to use a stick. As she came around the far side of the bed, she grabbed
Carissa by the waistband of her skirt, but Carissa had undone the ties, and Ryan was left holding the skirt as
Carissa somersaulted across the bed.

Carissa rolled until she came up off the foot of the bed. She took her stick and hooked it behind Ryan's knee,
twisting it so that Ryan turn-bled onto the bed. Before Ryan could move, Carissa had jumped on top of her. She
straddled Ryan's body and began undoing her belt. They both knew that Ryan was stronger and quicker, but
Ryan lay back thinking she knew how things would proceed. She allowed Carissa to pull her belt from around
her waist and slowly unbutton her trousers. She let Carissa to reach in and stroke the diletto she wore.

Ryan leaned back and closed her eyes, savoring the touch of her lover as Carissa's nails scored gently through
the nest of black hair on which the diletto rested. She felt Carissa rock forward and press herself along Ryan's
body. Carissa's breasts, still covered by the soft silk of her blouse pressed against Ryan's face. What was a
woman to do, Ryan reflected, but nuzzle against them, savoring the smooth texture with her lips and tongue?

Carissa felt Ryan take in a deep breath of contentment. She pressed her hips hard against Ryan's mons and was
rewarded with a groan. In that moment when Ryan was completely distracted, Carissa struck. She had
planned for this night's pleasure all during Ryan's absence. She reached for the shackles hidden under the
bedcovers, and before Ryan could react, one wrist was firmly chained to the bedpost.

Chaining Ryan's second wrist was not so easy a task. Ryan bellowed with mock anger and threw herself
against Carissa, almost sending her lover flying. But for once, Carissa had the advantage given to her by both
superior leverage and the fact that Ryan's movements were constrained. Carissa picked up her walking stick
again and, jamming one end under the headboard, she trapped Ryan's free arm with it and used her entire
weight to pin it to the bed. She snapped the second cuff closed.

Carissa rose from the bed grinning in triumph. She smacked the head of her stick into her hand as Ryan
struggled against the chains that bound her. She laughed as Ryan growled at her.

"What now?" Ryan asked, her eyes flashing, not with anger but with excitement.

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Carissa put her stick down and walked to the side of the bed. Timothy, her coachman, had been curious when
she had asked him to securely fix a chain to the base of the bed. She drew the heavy links out and tossed the
chain across Ryan's legs. Then she strode around to the other side of the bed and pulled the chain tight,
securing Ryan's ankles. Carissa did not want Ryan to be able to kick.

Ryan struggled briefly and then asked again, "What now?"

Carissa pulled off first one and then the other of Ryan's boots. She tossed the first aside, but from the second,
she drew the silver dagger Ryan always carried. The blade shone dully in the candlelight, and Carissa toyed
with it, letting the tip rest against her palm a moment feeling, even from that light touch, the cold burning pain
of it. She walked up to the head of the bed and rested the tip of the blade on Ryan's chest, just above her lover's
heart.

Ryan drew in a startled breath, and her heart started pounding in her chest. For the first time in five centuries,
she lost complete control. Ryan caught Carissa's eyes, and for a long moment, they held each other's gaze,
neither probing, neither striving for control, but testing each other all the same. Then Carissa grinned wickedly.
She flicked the blade and cut off a button.

"You are always tearing off my clothes, Ryan, ruining some of my favorite gowns. I thought you should see
how that felt." Carissa watched Ryan shudder and savored the sight of her lover's chest rising and falling as she
drew in gulps of air.

Carissa quickly cut away the rest of the buttons and pulled Ryan's shirt open. She rested the silver blade against
Ryan's chest, pushing hard enough to cut through Ryan's vest. The blade made heavy work of cutting through
the fabric, but Carissa had one more job to do with it that night. Under Ryan's vest lay the heavy fabric of the
binding Ryan used to conceal her breasts. The fabric was stiff, and Carissa could see where it cut into Ryan's
flesh under her arms and around her waist. She very carefully scored the fabric, running the blade down the
length of it exactly between Ryan's breasts.

Ryan had her eyes closed again, and she was moaning softly. The blade hadn't cut through the heavy cloth, but
it had made minute holes. As the blade passed along those holes, it left a line of ice down Ryan's chest. Ryan
pulled hard against the chains shackling her wrists, but the bedposts were solidly built, and they held. She had
not felt this vulnerable since before she became a vampire. The vulnerability scared her and yet left her deep in
the throws of lust.

Carissa put down the blade and forced her fingers through the tears it had made in the bindings. She pulled
with all her strength, and the cloth parted with a loud rip. Finally, Ryan's breasts were revealed. She leaned
forward and kissed first one and then the other nipple. She sucked one into her mouth and bit gently, feeling
Ryan arch up against her. She trailed her fingers down to Ryan's crotch and smiled when she felt how wet her
curls had become.

Carissa stood again and went to her dressing table to retrieve a second dagger. "It is a pity the silver will not
hold an edge better," Carissa said as she returned to the bed. "I suppose steel will have to finish the job."

Ryan looked up at Carissa, marveling that she had become so bold. The gaze Ryan gave her lover was
anything but submissive, but there was no hiding how deeply sensual she was finding the experience. She
watched as Carissa slipped the cold blade under her trouser leg and began to cut upward. The blade was sharp,

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and it slid all the way up to the waist in one long, smooth motion. Carissa repeated the process with the other
leg. She could have pulled the trousers off of Ryan at this point, but instead, she slipped the cold blade down
into the crotch, cutting the seam that ran between Ryan's legs. She laughed at her lover's gasp of surprise. Only
when Ryan was completely exposed did she put the blade aside and pull the remnants of the garment away.

Carissa repeated the process with Ryan's undergarment, but this time, she let the cold blade drag against
Ryan's skin. It did not cut, but it left bloodless scratches along both of Ryan's legs. When Carissa reached to
repeat the process with the seam between Ryan's legs, Ryan flinched and let out a loud moan. Carissa pulled
the garment away, and at last, Ryan lay naked in front of her. Almost naked. Carissa left Ryan's shirt and
jacket bunched up around her shoulders.

Somehow, the constraint of the cloth against her arms made Ryan feel even more vulnerable. She licked her lips
and took shallow breaths, almost panting in anticipation.

Carissa trailed her fingers up Ryan's leg and across her belly. Ryan's hips rocked up, but she simply smiled and
continued up to caress Ryan's breast. She sat on the bed next to Ryan and took her time exploring the body of
her lover. For all the times that they had made love, Carissa had never had the opportunity to touch Ryan as
she did now. She found a small scar on Ryan's thigh that must have predated her making. Carissa leaned over
and kissed the scar, somehow touched by the small flaw. It made her feel that Ryan had indeed been human
once.

Carissa kissed up along Ryan's thigh and over her belly: soft, wet kisses that left a trail of moisture behind.
Ryan lay quivering on the bed, her need so strong that she strained against the chains until the bed creaked
ominously. Carissa smiled, and for the first time kissed her lover on the mouth. Their lips met, and this time, it
was Carissa's tongue that probed, Carissa's teeth that gently bit the other woman's lip. She could feel Ryan's
ragged breath against her lips, and she smiled.

Carissa sat up again and stroked her fingers across the leather harness that held Ryan's diletto in place. "Can I
take this off?" Somehow, she knew she was asking for more trust now then she had at any other time that
night.

"You won't," Ryan hesitated. "You won't go inside me?"

"No my love."

Ryan sighed and nodded, her legs clenching a moment. She forced herself to relax and closed her eyes once
more as Carissa undid the buckles and pulled the harness free. She felt truly naked now, and her instinct was to
curl into a ball. But she lay still for her lover.

Carissa caressed the deep ridges that the hard leather of the harness had left in Ryan's flesh. She leaned forward
to lick the marks, and her soft breast pressed against Ryan's crotch.

"Please undress for me," Ryan asked breathlessly. "I want to feel you naked against me."

Carissa stood and pulled off her petticoats. She had planned for this evening, so the corset she wore was a
simple one that could be unlaced quickly. She let it fall to the floor and then climbed on top of Ryan, resting her
whole naked weight against her lover.

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Ryan arched up against Carissa. She pulled against the chains, frustrated not to be able to wrap her arms
around her lover. She tried to press her mons against Carissa's thigh, but her lover was not cooperating.

Carissa kissed Ryan's face, working across her jawline and chin. She was amazed when Ryan lifted her head,
exposing her throat. Carissa took the invitation and began licking down Ryan's throat, nibbling with her lips as
she went. When she got to the hollow at the base of Ryan's throat, she licked around in two curves, making a
wet heart. Then she pushed herself up so that she was on her knees and elbows. She continued to move down
Ryan's body, exploring with her tongue as she had previously with her fingers. Each touch sent a shiver
through Ryan, and when Carissa blew on the wet trail her tongue had left, Ryan's whole body shivered.

At last, Carissa arrived at Ryan's crotch. She looked up at Ryan to see if she was in any discomfort, but Ryan
had given her trust, and the expression on her face was one of bliss. Carissa bent her head and inhaled the scent
of her lover. She rubbed her cheek and nose in the wiry, wet curls. She kissed Ryan's mons and tasted Ryan's
essence on her own lips. She lay with her cheek on Ryan's thigh. Her hands were under her lover, clasping her
ass. Gently, she slid her tongue between Ryan's labia, thrusting with it until she found Ryan's clit.

Ryan reaction was electric. Her hips jerked hard enough to dislodge Carissa's head. For a moment, Carissa
thought she had gone too far, but Ryan spread her legs wider.

"Do not stop!" It was equal parts plea and command.

Carissa laughed as she resettled her head, but now she used her fingers to part Ryan's lips, at last confident that
she could give pleasure this way. She licked around Ryan's clit, and she could feel her lover squirming to force
her tongue to the most sensitive spot. Carissa teased, licking down the sides of Ryan's lips. She teased the hood
of the clit, first with her tongue, and then with her lips.

"Damn it woman!" Ryan shouted.

Pleased at last, Carissa took Ryan's clit in her mouth and sucked. She began flicking her tongue faster and
faster, feeling Ryan's muscles quiver in time to her rhythm. She sucked harder, drawing Ryan's clit across her
teeth as she sucked it in and out.

Ryan's orgasm shook the whole bed as she pulled on the chains hard enough to crack one of the bedposts. For
an infinity, her body arched and every nerve seemed to explode with release. Her cum gushed out on Carissa's
face, and as Carissa greedily licked it up, Ryan's body quivered with shock after shock of renewed pleasure.
Finally, she fell back completely spent. She let out one last sigh.

Carissa kissed Ryan's wet lips one last time and then moved to lay beside her lover. She was having trouble
with her own breathing. She felt a sense of power like none other she had ever felt. Making love to Reesha had
been an exquisite pleasure; finally making love to Ryan was a victory. She savored the moment.

"And I taught you to do all of that?" Ryan asked at last. She felt light of heart and happily spent.

"More or less," Carissa answered with a laugh. "Would you like me to unchain you now?"

Ryan pulled one last time on her bindings and the bedpost tilted ominously. "Perhaps you better. We may have
to escape in a rush if the whole thing comes down."

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Carissa knelt, and taking the key that she had worn around her neck, she unlocked first one and then the other
wrist. "Could you have broken free if you had wanted to?"

"I expect so," Ryan said.

"I'm glad," Carissa said as she slipped out of bed to release Ryan's legs.

"Why?" Ryan asked, raising herself up so that she could watch her lover.

"Because it means that you wanted me to do this."

"You surprised me beyond words tonight, my dove. I have never experienced… I have never let anyone touch
me as you did before. I never though I could enjoy that. Thank you."

Carissa laughed, completely happy. She climbed into bed and cuddled close to Ryan. "See what happens when
you leave me alone, my lord," she said mischievously.

"Perhaps I should leave you alone more often then."

Carissa harrumphed. "I shall have to get a stronger bed then."

Ryan laughed until her whole body shook. "Perhaps one made of steel."

"Solid steel, and a good foot thick."

Ryan was still chuckling as she drifted off to sleep.

Carissa's maid put the finishing touches on her hair and stepped back so that her mistress could view the effect.
Carissa caught the girl's eyes, and probing with her mind just deeply enough to see through the girl's eyes, she
looked at herself to admire the effect. Her dark tresses were piled high with just a few curls framing her face.
Twinkling in her hair were four ruby-headed pins. The shafts were silver, and Carissa had instructed the maid
to be very careful not to prick her, but if Carissa needed a weapon, she had one close at hand. She could hardly
carry her walking stick during the ball.

"It looks wonderful. Thank you, Nora."

"You have such beautiful hair, milady, that is takes no work at all." It was a lie, but a very sweet one. Nora was
very skilled indeed at arranging Carissa's hair. "Shall I help you with the necklace, milady?"

"I'll do that, Nora," Ryan said from the doorway.

The maid smiled at Ryan and slipped out of the room. She hadn't been born yet the last time Ryan had lived in
Edinburgh, but when Lord Wolf had come back with her bride, Nora had developed a tremendous crush on
her master. Even when her mother, the housekeeper, had explained just what getting involved with Ryan could
cost her, the maid had still wanted Ryan's attention. It was her growing love for Carissa that had put things in
perspective for her. Ryan might take a young maid to her bed, although Nora had never heard a rumor of her
doing so, but she would love only her wife. The girl looked back over her shoulder at the way Ryan caressed
Carissa's cheek, and she hoped that someday she would find someone who loved her that way. She sighed and

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closed the door.

The ruby necklace rested cold on Carissa's decolletage. Ryan had had the stones reset in a much lighter setting
so it looked as if Carissa's throat were clasped with gem-studded lace. Carissa had chosen a gown of fabric so
deep a red that it was almost black: the color of vampire blood. The bright rubies contrasted with the gown like
the bright sparkle of human life contrasted with the darker existence of her kind.

"You look magnificent tonight, my dove. It is almost a shame that we cannot spend the evening alone."

"Almost?" Carissa asked.

"I do adore showing you off. There will not be a man there tonight who will not envy me, and I suspect half the
women will as well."

Carissa laughed with pleasure. "You look magnificent as well, my lord." Carissa turned in her seat to better look
at Ryan. She was dressed in evening wear, and the black tails suited her perfectly. Ryan moved with the grace
of a dancer, yet she managed to strut like a peacock as well. Her dark coloring gave her an air of mystery.
Young women looked at her and knew there was a tormented soul behind those dark eyes. Ryan was the
embodiment of Heathcliff, Carissa thought. She had found Wuthering Heights hidden in her mother's boudoir
when she was sixteen. She knew that her father would not have approved of her mother reading such a book,
and she could only imagine what he would have thought if he had known that Carissa had read it at such an
impressionable age. It always had struck Carissa as curious that the author was actually a woman, but now she
understood better. She had spent months mooning over the dark hero of the story, and she understood too why
the young women, and some not so young women, of Edinburgh's society looked after Ryan with those calf
eyes.

"I think that all of the women will be too busy looking at you, Ryan, to give me much thought, except perhaps
to want to scratch my eyes out for having won you first. But then, their fathers are probably blessing the fact
that you are safely married."

Ryan laughed. "I do have something of a reputation, and not all of it good. Actually, very little of it good."

Ryan took Carissa in her arms and kissed her carefully. "Perhaps they expect you to be a civilizing influence on
me, my dove."

"Perhaps, but frankly I rather enjoy the uncivilizing influence you have on me. Ummm, not that I don't enjoy
what you are doing Ryan, but perhaps we had better be downstairs in time to meet our first guest."

Ryan removed her hand from under Carissa's skirt and gave a mock sigh. "You see, already you are nagging
me into proper social behavior."

There was a twinkle in Ryan's eye as she took Carissa's arm and led her out of the bedroom. The lightness with
which Ryan approached the evening took a lot of the dread out of it for Carissa. She was nervous about
meeting the queen, and all week she had fidgeted trying to prepare herself for the encounter. She had been
awake long before sunset tonight, and when Ryan had suggested leaving for the town-house early, Carissa had
eagerly agreed. It was still not completely dark when she had made her way down a passage that ended in the
carriage house. And all the way to town, she had had to sit on her hands to keep from biting her nails. Ryan
was curiously unhelpful, shutting herself away in one of the brown studies to which she was prone. When they

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arrived, Carissa had taken charge of the details for the ball, and that had finally calmed her. It was a task she
had learned well from her mother, and she felt completely in her element. Ryan's banter had further improved
her mood, and now she sailed down the elegant Adam staircase on Ryan's arm with a sensuous smile on her
lips.

Since Ryan and Carissa were hosting the party, it was not up to them to make an entrance. It really was a
shame, because the combination of the dark gown and the brilliant rubies was stunning. Instead, Ryan and
Carissa stood near the entrance to the ballroom greeting their guests as they arrived. The humans arrived first.
It was fashionable to be late for such affairs, but curiosity seemed to spur a steady stream of early arrivals. Ryan
and Carissa had hosted a few dinner parties out at the manor, but this was the first time they had entertained
on such a scale, and all of Edinburgh society was anxious to meet Lord Wolf's lady. Ryan's power permeated
the city in such a way that no one could afford to shun her, yet her own lack of sociability made her all that
more important a guest when she did deign to attend a social event. Since Carissa's advent, Lord Wolf had been
more Wont to accept invitations, but for people of their class, they still lived as virtual hermits. Lady Wolf had
not called for tea on a single person, no matter how important, and she always sent her regrets to the soirees to
which she had been invited. With this ball, However, people began to wonder if Lady Wolf was not determined
to take her place at the forefront of Edinburgh society. Not everyone greeted that possibility with welcome, for
if she became a hostess of repute, someone else would have to give up her own bit of social power.

Ryan had outdone herself furnishing the house. Not only was each piece of furniture of the latest style and the
highest quality, but all the pieces fit together to produce a harmonious whole. Ryan's taste certainly was of the
highest order, but it was Carissa who was responsible for the ball itself. She had eschewed the Japanese lanterns
and the overblown decorations that were the style. Instead, she had massed flowers in the corners of the
ballroom, changing its shape into an octagon. TWO ice sculptures graced the buffet tables. Carissa had hired
an artist friend of Reesha's to make the sculptures in the form of a spiral of birds descending to an olive branch.
Carissa hoped that the queen could read the subtle message contained in the sculptures, for half the birds were
ravens and the other half mourning doves.

The ballroom sparkled with light from the crystal chandeliers that glinted off of the jewels the women wore. The
air was sweetly scented by all of the flowers, and the music drifted in sublime tones underscoring the
conversations. The dancing would not start until most or the guests arrived. Now they milled about, sampling
the hors d'oeuvres and sipping champagne. Carissa received more then one spiteful look from young women
who looked at Ryan with worshipful eyes. She wondered what they would think if they knew just what Ryan
was. These looks amused Carissa. It was the older women who kept her wishing that she was in the dance hall
listening to Reesha sing. Their looks were not overtly hostile, but some of them looked her up and down like a
girl off the street who had had the temerity to apply for a maid's position. Their words, too, held hidden barbs,
but Carissa's mother had adored this kind of game and had taught her daughter well.

"So charmed that you have invited us to your ball," Lady Ashleigh commented. "I'm sure that in no time at all
you will find your appropriate place in Edinburgh society."

Carissa smiled. "Not at all, Lady Ashleigh, we were pleased to include you and your husband in our gathering.
I'm sure that you will find your own level in our company."

"Very well done, for your first entertainment on this scale, my dear," said a dowager of considerable experience.
"Although I myself might have chosen a less strenuous entree into Edinburgh society."

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"Yes, I am sure you would have, Mrs. McAllister."

And so the verbal sparring match went. The men were in some ways as difficult to deal with. One or two
seemed to dwell too long upon Carissa's decolletage, and their wives were not in the best humor when they had
to tug their spouses' arms. Carissa could feel Ryan's amusement, but when Edmund Trisk arrived, Carissa was
ready to hug him in relief. At least both his admiration and his danger were there in the open. Ryan greeted
him civilly, but Carissa could see that she was defining her territory clearly. When she passed Trisk on to
Carissa, Ryan's hand lingered proprietarily on her arm.

"It is good to see you again, Mr. Trisk," Carissa said honestly. He was a known quantity, as so many of the
others were not.

"The pleasure is all mine, my lady," Edmund said as he bowed over Carissa's hand. "Perhaps you will do me
the honor of reserving a dance for me?"

"It will be my pleasure," Carissa answered with a genuine smile. She could feel rather then hear Ryan growl,
and for some reason, this bolstered her mood even more. In truth, not all of the women had been hostile, but
Carissa was the interloper in their ordered world. That she was not only young and of high station but also very
sure of herself made it worse, for the older women felt she should bow to their greater experience. Carissa
sighed, wondering if she would be able to pull off the balancing act she had in mind.

Carissa and Ryan had started receiving at ten o'clock. It was almost midnight when Alyssa was announced.
Carissa studied the queen of vampires with some interest as Ryan greeted her. Alyssa was breathtakingly
beautiful. Her complexion was fair; indeed, it would have been white except for the subtle application of
cosmetics. Her blond hair was piled on her head yet cascaded down to her shoulders. Her face was delicately
boned, with high cheekbones and a very fine nose. Her gown was the exact same blue of the sapphires she
wore, the very same sapphires that had cost Ryan and Carissa so much trouble. She looked challengingly at
Carissa even as Ryan bent over her hand. Carissa smiled and inclined her head in admiration, and Alyssa's eyes
widened a bit in appreciation of Carissa's aplomb.

"It is a very great pleasure to meet you at last, Lady Wolf," Alyssa said in a voice that had the timber of a
trained singer.

"The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness," Carissa said in a voice just loud enough for Alyssa to hear. The
queen's smile broadened a bit at the acknowledgment of her title.

"I will wish to have some conversation with you later." It was not a request.

"I am at your disposal, Your Highness."

Alyssa's escort was a human male. He was handsome enough in a vacant-eyed sort of way, and he followed
Alyssa like a puppy at her heels. Alyssa had not even bothered to introduce him, but then, one does not
introduce a pet. Ryan herself escorted Alyssa around the ballroom, introducing her to many of the local gentry.
Carissa watched, amused, knowing that Alyssa craved this entry into society. The gentry themselves did not
know quite what to make of the situation. They expected Lord Wolf to chaperon his wife around the room,
introducing her to the most important people in the region. Instead, Ryan was acting in the most deferential
way to Alyssa, and for the life of them, they could not place who she was. Yet if Lord Wolf treated her with
such respect, then she must be someone of great importance.

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Carissa felt Edmund Trisk come up behind her. "It's almost better than Gilbert and Sullivan," he whispered in
her ear.

"Oh, much better. Alyssa has to be at least a duchess, but duchess of what? I must say, she has a very regal
way about her."

"Envious?"

"Actually, yes, a bit. Half the women here hate me because I snared Ryan, and the other half do because I'm a
threat to their power. Yet Alyssa can waltz in radiating power, and rather than resent her, they throw
themselves at her."

Trisk laughed. "It's because they assume your power comes from Lord Wolf. They don't know yet to respect
you for your own very powerful self. And I must say, Ryan set the stage perfectly for Alyssa. Ryan is one of the
most powerful people in the human world here. I still don't know exactly how much of Edinburgh Ryan owns.
By acting subservient to Alyssa, Ryan set the stage for her duchess act."

"Let's see, what should she be the duchess of?" Carissa mused.

"Technically, she should be Lady Alyssa Northumberland. A woman can only become a duchess through
marriage, but she is the daughter of the eighth Earl of Northumberland."

Carissa wondered if Trisk had been instructed to drop the information to intimidate her. Carissa nodded. "It's
too bad that our present society is so male oriented. Alyssa should have her title."

Trisk shrugged. "The one she has suits her better. Or I suppose she could have done as Ryan has and
established her title over the years of her existence."

"True, but then she would have had to have been a man. Can you imagine Alyssa as anything but the glorious
woman she is?"

"Ahhh, there you are correct. Now, you promised me a dance. Ryan is partnering Alyssa, so the least you can
do is partner me."

"Technically, I should partner Alyssa's escort, but," Carissa said with a twinkle in her eye, "Ryan has been
teaching me not to be such a stickler for social convention."

Trisk laughed and led Carissa out onto the dance floor. He was an excellent dancer, but nothing ever felt like
dancing with Ryan's arms around her. Carissa hoped she would have the opportunity to dance with her spouse
at least once that night.

Between them, Carissa and Alyssa had all of the men begging for dances. It was two hours before Carissa could
sneak away for a breath of air. She enjoyed dancing, but not when there were so many women staring at her
resentfully. She took a deliberate deep breath and looked up at the brilliant night sky. The stars made the jewels
the women wore pale in comparison. There was just a sliver of moon, and the velvet blackness that held the
tapestry of stars drew Carissa almost as much as the light. She opened her senses cautiously and sensed Alyssa
coming up behind her almost immediately. She was careful not to let on that she could sense the older vampire.
Ryan had drilled her well this last week in not only sharpening her skills but hiding them as well.

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"It's a lovely night," Alyssa said softly.

Carissa allowed herself to startle just enough to make her shoulders quiver. She turned to face the queen and
curtsied.

"Would you enjoy a stroll in the garden, Your Highness? Or would you rather repair to a private room in the
house?"

"This will do, Carissa. I must admit that I am surprised that you acknowledge my title so freely."

"Why should I not? Ryan does. We are neither of us your subjects, Highness, but that does not mean we do not
respect both your power and how well you maintain order in Edinburgh."

"I was not sure what to expect from you, Carissa. Edmund's report on your level of skill impressed me but also
alarmed me. If Ryan is gathering power to oust me from Edinburgh, she could do much worse than having
someone like you at her side."

"A novice vampire? Against all of the strength of your followers? Your Highness, Ryan has told me enough to
know that she is personally more powerful than you are." The boldness of Carissa's words startled Alyssa more
then anything else that evening, even the gift of the house. "But even Ryan's personal strength would not be
enough to take on all of the vampires of Edinburgh. How could I do so? And why would we want to? The
status quo has suited Ryan very well all these years. Ryan has her own very real power as a financial leader in
this community, but it is a power that lets her pursue her own amusements. She can leave here for twenty or
thirty years and come back to her home to find it much the same as she left it. You cannot. I think Ryan values
her freedom more than anything else in this world."

"Even in the short time you have been with her, I suspect you know Ryan better than I do. But tell me, what do
you want?" Now Alyssa captured Carissa's eyes. Carissa stiffened a moment and then willed herself still. She
could not win an a confrontation with the queen, but she could maintain her integrity.

"I am not completely sure yet. I have been Ryan's lover for almost six years now, but a vampire for less than a
year. I have very much to learn about myself and the new world in which I exist. I love Ryan with all my heart,
and right now, that is the center of my reality."

Alyssa stroked the younger woman's cheek, and Carissa felt a bolt of pure sexual power go through her. Her
eyes widened with surprise, and then she nodded, accepting fully that the attraction was there.

"I see that Edmund is not going to have much luck seducing you."

Carissa looked away for a moment, knowing that Alyssa could sense her embarrassment and confusion. "I
thought… I thought Your Highness preferred men."

"My tastes are eclectic, and I can certainly see why you hold Ryan's attention, why she even went so far as to
make you. You know how unusual that is for her."

"Yes, I know. And I think you know that no matter how attractive I find you, I will never betray Ryan."

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"I didn't think you would, even before I met you. Ryan is anything but a fool." For a long time, the two women
stared into each other's eyes. Alyssa didn't bludgeon her way into Carissa's mind. The queen exerted her will in
the subtlest of all ways, testing Carissa's senses, her resolve, all without causing her the least distress. Carissa's
will seemed a fragile thing in this formidable woman's grasp, and that in itself heightened Carissa's attraction to
the queen. The deftness, even the gentleness of her touch brought admiration. Some part of Carissa's mind
realized that she could love this woman, and on that followed the realization that she liked her. When Alyssa
smiled, it was not in triumph but in pure pleasure.

"I find myself liking you as well," the Queen said as she broke her hold.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

"Please, call me Alyssa. Now, back to my original question. What do you want? Do you plan on entering
Edinburgh society?"

"Yes, unfortunately, I will have to."

"Unfortunately?"

"If I want to help effect some social change, then I need to have the support of many of those women in there,
and through them, their husbands. Ahhh, I see you are amused."

"I admit that I am, Carissa. I know you are young, but they are prey."

"I am still very close to being human, Alyssa. In particular, I don't approve of how women are treated in this
society, and in as much as we live in this world, how human women are treated affects how vampire women
are treated as well."

"I've never felt restricted."

"Have you not? Then why is it that you cannot lay claim to a title that is legitimately yours? Mr. Trisk told me
that you are descended from the Earl of Northumberland."

"The title I have suits me well enough," Alyssa answered with some amusement.

"Yes, it does, but you can't use that title in the human world, and you are denied one that should be rightfully
yours. Even Ryan has to pretend to be a man to hold on to her title. But it's more the everyday things that
bother me, that girls should be forced into prostitution in order not to starve, and then be blamed and hated for
being what society itself makes them. And I really do not approve of women being raped, Alyssa."

"Well, if it comes to that, I don't approve either. You can't save the whole world, my dear, or even all of
Edinburgh."

"No, but I might be able to help some few children into a better life. It is enough for now."

"You have my word that I and mine will not interfere."

Carissa smiled with genuine gratitude. "Thank you. Do you… is there anyway you could command your
subjects not to rape human girls?"

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"They don't generally need to resort to rape, and most vampires enjoy seduction as much as the hunt itself,"
Alyssa answered seriously. Something about this young vampire made her look back to when she herself was
human, when she herself was vulnerable.

"What about someone like Martin? He certainly did not try to seduce me."

"You have my apologies for that. He acted in a way that is completely unacceptable to my rule."

"I know, but are you equally concerned if he treats a human woman that way?"

"Carissa, some things I cannot control. Martin himself will not be a problem. Ryan has asked me for him, and
for the insult he gave you, I have given Ryan leave to unmake him. But I cannot control a vampire's appetite.
Not everyone learns the self-control you did. And I congratulate you on achieving it so quickly. I do punish
those who make new vampires indiscriminately and then do not control them when they feed. But when a
vampire hunts… well, you know what that feels like. In the end, no one can control that demon from without,
and frankly, I wouldn't try to do so. I would become a laughing stock if I did."

"And they are only prey after all," Carissa said not surprised but still disappointed.

"Yes, they are."

"They may be different from us, Alyssa, but they are more than that. Even a horse is of more value to a human
than mere prey. And we are from them. We were born and raised human."

"How many of your precious humans in there would be the first to destroy us if they knew what we were?"

Carissa sighed. "That is a point well taken, but not all humans are like that. Ryan's servants…"

"Yes, I know about her servants, and I even respect that they are different. They are also out of bounds to any of
my subjects."

Carissa made a decision. "Then could you extend that protection to someone else?"

"Who?"

"I have a… a pet. A human woman."

"Ahhh, what is her name?"

"Reesha. She is a dance hall singer in Cramond."

"I know her. I've heard her sing. She is indeed well worth your attention. I will inform my subjects that she is
out of bounds as well. If I tell them she is one of Ryan's pets, they won't touch her," Alyssa said with a sparkle in
her eye. "Ryan does know how to command fear. And thank you, Carissa."

"For what?"

"Your trust. We don't trust easily, our kind. Usually we have several lifetimes to learn not to trust, that is, if we

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survive those lessons. Be very careful where you put your trust, my dear."

"I… I will be," Carissa answered a bit confused.

"It will be sunrise in about two hours," Alyssa said. "We had better go in."

Ryan met the returning women at the door. She took Carissa's hand and kissed it.

"These are the keys to the house," Ryan said to Alyssa as she handed them to her. "With your permission,
Carissa and I will stay this one day here and then vacate the house for you tomorrow night. I have taken a
long-term lease that I can change to your name, if you like. I hope you will feel free to use this house as your
own."

"Thank you, Ryan. I think I shall enjoy living here. By all means, stay the day. It is too late for you to return to
your manor tonight."

"Carissa, dear, I have enjoyed talking with you. If you ever need a friend to talk to, please feel free to visit me."
Alyssa kissed Carissa lightly on the cheek and then took her leave from Ryan. Ryan escorted her to the door
and watched her carriage roll away in the hour before dawn.

Carissa had retired to the room where she had changed earlier. She had left the master bedroom alone, feeling
it would be an invasion of privacy to use the room, even if it wasn't quite Alyssa's room yet. Ryan found her
taking down her hair.

"You seem to have made an impression on the queen," Ryan said neutrally.

"She made an impression on me too, Ryan. I found myself liking her."

"She is very likable. Her charisma is a great deal of what keeps her adherents loyal. But it can be dangerous to
like someone such as she."

"I know, and I made sure she knows where my loyalties are. I'm not going to start running to her with my
girlish confidences, Ryan, but I think perhaps there could come a time when she stops fearing you and we
could all be friends. Or is that my naivete speaking?"

"Perhaps, but you have made a good impression on her. I think you are safe here now, my dear, and that is
what is important."

Carissa smiled and kissed Ryan. For some reason, she felt that she should not tell Ryan that she had asked
Alyssa to extend her protection to Reesha. The omission bothered Carissa, and yet in her heart she knew that
her attraction to the queen would make Ryan jealous in a way nothing else could, and her trust stemmed from
that attraction. Carissa allowed Ryan to help her undress, but the tension of the last week caught up with her,
and she was asleep the moment her head was on the pillow. That day, she dreamed of making love to Alyssa,
and when she woke, she knew that she had changed in some way that saddened her.

14

Blood Sport

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Carissa watched Reesha undress through half-closed eyes. She was so very different in her beauty from Alyssa,
yet both women aroused Carissa by the sheer elegance of their form. While Alyssa was pale, slender, and
golden, Reesha was dark and had a full figure that was softly curved, even voluptuous. Carissa sat up on the
bed and buried her face between Reesha's bare breasts. They were so incredibly soft, and the nipples rose like
sweet confections as Carissa bent to suck them. In a sudden change of mood, Carissa pulled Reesha down on
the bed and straddled her. She kissed her face, her neck, and exulted when Reesha lifted her chin, giving
Carissa access to those so vulnerable pulse points.

The hunger rose in Carissa like a striking snake. She felt the heat of blood fire beneath her lips, and her senses
swam as the fire burned its way down into her loins. But she held back, teasing both herself and her lover. Her
hands traveled over Reesha, eliciting moans. Not all of her touches were gentle, yet Reesha squirmed beneath
her, aching to be taken. Carissa licked down between Reesha's breasts, nipping along the insides while Reesha
arched up against her, trying desperately to bring her mons, her sweet wet pussy in contact with Carissa's flesh.
The vampire laughed wickedly and reached for the belt from Reesha's robe. She bound Reesha's hands to the
bedpost. Now she had both hands free. She sat back and looked down on her very human lover.

"Damn you, Carissa," Reesha panted.

"But you like this," Carissa purred. She pinched both nipples between her thumbs and fingers and pulled. "Tell
me you don't like this."

Reesha's only answer was a whimper. Carissa began kissing down her body, her sharp teeth grazing the soft
flesh. She straddled Reesha's body and leaned low so that the bound woman could suck her nipple.

She rubbed her own wet cunt over Reesha's belly, knowing how it would incite her, feeling her arch up again
and again in an attempt to find the same sort of contact for her own aching cunt. The feel of Reesha's warm
flesh was driving her demon crazy. Carissa laughed in triumph as she reined the dragon in and denied it over a
long, exquisite time while she explored all of Reesha's soft folds with her hands, her mouth.

"Carissa… please… please take me…"

It was the first time Reesha had begged. It, too, felt like a heady drug. Carissa withdrew her mouth from
Reesha's clit and looked her in the eyes. "I love you," she said with great tenderness, and then she bent her head
and bit deep and hard around Reesha's clit.

Carissa felt Reesha arch under her. Her scream was only half pain. Carissa could smell the gush of cum, and it
heightened her hunger in a way she had not understood until very recently. She slid her fingers inside Reesha,
finding her open, welcoming. She thrust deep and hard and felt Reesha convulse in orgasm, and still she was
not satisfied, still both women hungered for more.

Carissa withdrew her fingers against Reesha's protests and tucked her thumb between them. She felt the
resistance as she pressed her whole hand inside her lover. Reesha screamed, but this time in pure animal need.
She bore down on Carissa's hand, and it slid past the muscles into the hot, wet interior that was so welcoming,
so demanding. Carissa stroked inside Reesha as she had learned from her experience with Ryan. She lost track
of time, even of her own lust for blood as Reesha's cunt spasmed around her hand over and over again until her
own cunt spasmed as the sweetest echo of their shared pleasure.

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When Reesha felt back to the bed spent, Carissa withdrew, slowly, gently. She knew from personal experience
how much Reesha would ache in the morning, but she also knew that sweet ache was well worth the price. She
caressed her lover gently, lulling her to sleep while she whispered endearments and stroked her hair. It did not
take long, for Reesha was completely spent. Then Carissa knelt between Reesha's legs and feasted on the sweet
cum. She was careful not to wake her lover, but she laughed very softly when she saw the smile on Reesha's
lips.

Carissa sat back in a chair watching Reesha sleep. She sighed, wishing that they had more time together. She
could not keep Reesha up all night, and they only had the one night a week to spend together. Not that Ryan
would object if Carissa visited her lover more often, but between the constraints of Reesha's work and the
society in which Carissa was trying to establish herself, there just was no time. Invitations arrived in a steady
flow, and if Carissa had wished it, she could have attended one affair or another almost every day of the week.
Of course she could not attend those held during the day, but she needed to be selective about even the evening
invitations. Ryan's reputation as a recluse kept people from wondering too much about why she never
appeared during the day, and since Ryan was a "man," people would simply assume that "he" had business
affairs to deal with and could not attend the lunches and teas that were the normal venue for most women of
Carissa's class. Carissa could not use the same excuses as Ryan, and if she appeared too eccentric, people would
begin to speculate about her, and she would not be able to develop the kind of reputation she needed to effect
social change.

Slowly Carissa was developing a circle of friends who were neither too naive to understand what a terrible life
most women faced, nor too sanctimonious to blame the victims for their own plight. Carissa had told some of
the women about Master McKay's establishment, and with his permission, she had brought a select few to visit
the warehouse. There was an outpouring of money and used clothing and furniture, but Master McKay could
care for only a few children. Three of Carissa's new friends formed a committee to find an appropriate house in
which to start an orphanage. This one would differ from the publicly funded ones in that it would not be a
workhouse where the children were forced to spend fourteen hours a day picking rags until they were old
enough to be thrown out on the streets. Carissa planned that the children who were her charges would be given
training to find useful jobs when they were old enough, but they would also be given a chance to play and just
be children.

Carissa smiled at how much she had changed in just the past year. She had been afraid of becoming a monster,
but instead she had developed a social conscience that she never could have achieved when she lived as a
human. She just would have been too ignorant. What was even more astounding was that she now had the
power to do something about the conditions that so appalled her, even if it was in just a small way. Only
twenty-five children would find a.home in the new orphanage in the first year, and that was a drop compared
with all of those who went hungry each night. But the orphanage would grow with time, and once Carissa had
a solid group of graduates from her program, then she would have clear proof that the poor were not poor
because they were stupid or lazy. It would be a wedge to drive in for laws against child labor and for laws
giving the poor more opportunity for education. That it would take years, perhaps more then one lifetime did
not daunt Carissa anymore, for she had many lifetimes now to work.

Reesha sighed in her sleep and turned on her side. Carissa reached over and brushed Reesha's hair back from
her face. Reesha was a skeptic about any social change. At first, Carissa was hurt at her lack of enthusiasm, not
for the orphanage, but for the larger plan that Carissa had outlined for her. Carissa had expected Reesha to
applaud her ideals, but the older woman had cause for her cynicism. She believed that even if the poor were
educated and given great opportunities, there would always be a class structure. The wealthy would always

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need to have those beneath them, and those born into money would always scorn those who had to work for a
living. Carissa could not dispute this. Reesha would never see the greater change that Carissa so wanted to have
a hand in bringing about.

It saddened Carissa so to think of her lover's mortality, that in that moment she had to leave her. Carissa got up
and dressed quickly. It was still early by her standards. Perhaps she would hunt. She left the apartment silently.
The night was hot, and people were still out strolling in a languid way. The dance halls were closed on Sundays,
but there were always amusements to be had. Carissa blended with the night and began to search for her own
entertainment.

The night was alive with the bright sparkle of life. The heat of the last days of summer was joined with the heat
of blood and passion that Carissa could sense swirling around her. It was almost too much for her senses, but
she was learning to filter out the noise that was irrelevant to her survival and to her pleasure. Toward where the
slaughterhouses stood, Carissa could scent hot, new blood along with fear and pain. At first, she thought they
were working late at the slaughterhouse, but then she caught the scent of human excitement and she wrinkled
her nose in disgust. It was a dogfight. As much as Carissa loved the excitement of the hunt, she hated gratuitous
violence. The thought of forcing poor animals to fight for entertainment both angered and nauseated her. Ryan
argued that it was in the dog's nature to fight, or else they would not do it, but Carissa could not stand the
emotions it generated. It was not the copper smell of the clog's pain and fear that caused her to turn away: it
was the scent of an almost sexual excitement of the men who bet on the dogs.

For a while, Carissa strolled on the outskirts of town, letting the quiet night soothe her. As much as she would
have liked to shut down the dog fights, she knew she had to pick her battles, and the children were more
important. She deliberately breathed in the scents of new-mown hay and ripe apples. She let the darkness fill
her sight, not even looking up at the starlit sky. The small sounds of the insects were as soothing as music. Yet
even here, life and death waged its battle around her as bats dove to snare the moths and frogs flicked out their
tongues. Carissa sighed, wishing she could contract her senses back to her mortal ones. At least then she could
enjoy the illusion of peace. Ryan would laugh at her. The small sparks of life flickering out around her were of
no consequence at all in the scheme of things. It was part of the cycle of nature. Only vampires cheated death,
for a time at least.

Carissa felt the scream rather than heard it. It was the sharp, bright fear of death followed by a small infinity of
pain. One of her kind was hunting nearby. Her footsteps had taken her back into town, but to one of the
poorest areas. The alleys stank with refuse, and the huddled shapes in doorways could be anything from a
drunk to a dead dog, or worse, a dead child. Carissa stopped a moment to get her bearings. She could feel the
last bit of consciousness slipping away from the victim and see the hot swirl of blood dimming to death. Yet
there were more victims huddled together close by: three of them, all children. Carissa turned her attention to
the vampire itself. Her kind generally did not hunt where there were witnesses. She found him easily as his own
blood swirled with the excitement of the hunt. He was turning to the other victims. Carissa broke into a run.
She did not stop to think. She burst into the alley just as he picked up a small child.

"Stop!" Carissa shouted.

The vampire dropped the child and turned to her with a snarl.

"This is my prey. Go find your own."

"They are children," Carissa hissed.

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"What concern is that of yours? They are my prey."

Carissa took in the scene quickly. The first victim was little more than a child herself, perhaps thirteen or
fourteen. It was hard to tell, she was so emaciated, as were the other children. The girl and the younger children
looked to be living in a crate in the alley. A few belongings lay scattered. Already the fallen child was trying to
crawl back into the dubious safety of the crate. The vampire was now eyeing Carissa as if she were prey.

"But if you want to join my prey, I will have no objection to taking you as well," he hissed at her.

"Are you one of Alyssa's court?"

The vampire looked confused. He was stalking her now, and in the narrow alley, there was little room to
maneuver. Carissa brought up her stick, holding it in both hands. The other vampire snarled at her again and
lunged. His hands were outstretched, reaching for her throat, and Carissa brought her cane up in a rapid flash
that all but broke the vampire's elbow. He Howled in pain and crashed past Carissa. For a moment, she hoped
he would just run away, but he turned back to her quickly. Now he stood blocking the mouth of the alley, an
ugly expression in his eyes.

Carissa deliberately took a deep breath, centering herself as she had been taught. She hadn't expected to face a
fight to the death, but there was no reason left in the vampire. He would have her, one way or the other, and to
stop him, she would have to kill him. The thought almost panicked Carissa, but when he struck again, she was
ready. Ryan had taught her well, and she acted on reflex, blocking his blows, not easily, but with skill. He was
strong, very strong, and Carissa could feel each blow she took on her cane all the way up to her shoulders. She
tried to catch his eyes, but even when she did, there was nothing but pure animal rage there. He backed her
farther and farther into the alley, taking pleasure in driving her. Twice, Carissa had tried to score his body with
the silver tip of her cane, but his clothing was too thick; even in the heat of summer he seemed to be wearing
several layers of clothing.

Carissa bit her lip to keep from screaming as he caught her shoulder in a crushing grip and slammed her into
the wall. He had her pinned with his arm across her throat while he mauled her breasts with his other hand. If
she had needed to breathe, she would be losing consciousness now, and that told Carissa that he had little
practice righting his own kind. She pretended to grow weak, hoping he would loosen his grip so that she could
slip away, but he held her with casual brutality as he tore her dress exposing her shoulders and breasts.

Carissa did panic when he bent his head to bite her throat. She struggled in his grasp and succeeded turning
just enough so that he bit her shoulder instead of her vulnerable throat. She brought up her knee to his crotch,
but he was ready for that, twisting his leg up to protect himself. He tore her shoulder with his fangs, leaving
deep, bleeding gashes. Now he reached behind her with one hand, tangling it in her hair and forcing her head
back inch by inch.

Carissa felt a cold fear like none she had ever experienced. This was death. She knew that. Ryan's words came
back to her: The only true dishonor is death. Carissa brought her free hand up and drove her thumb into the
vampire's eye, gouging it out completely. He bellowed in pain and rage and fell back from her. She did not
give him an instant to recover. She brought her cane up and drove the silver point into his chest with both
hands. He fell back against the wall screaming in agony, and still Carissa followed, driving the point in deeper
until she could feel it grind against his backbone. She didn't know if she had pierced his heart or not, but she
wasn't going to wait to find out. She gathered up the three children and ran. Starved as they were, they were

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not a great burden.

At first Carissa ran blindly, not caring where she went as long as she put distance between herself and the other
vampire. The children were crying now, and her shoulder burned with pain as if she was the one with the
deadly silver embedded in the wound. She finally stopped to get her bearings and to resettle the children.
Sheltering in an alley, she tore off one of her petticoats and made it into a sling. She wrapped all three children
in it and slung them carefully over her back. The relief in her injured shoulder made her dizzy, but she could
feel the bones grinding in her side where her ribs had broken. She felt weak, but she could not stop. Her first
thought was Reesha, but her lover could not help her; only Ryan could, and Ryan was so far away. She was
near the slaughterhouse again, but the dogfight had ended. All that was left was the fading scent of blood and
the soft whimpers of the winners. The losers were long past pain. Carissa turned toward Master McKay's. He
was the closest, and he could take care of the children for now. Her steps were slower now; she was weaker. It
took forever to reach his door.

Carissa put the children down on the doorstep and pounded with her good arm. She could see that the
household was asleep, but she needed help now. It was Clywd who opened the door. She fell in his arms. She
cursed to herself realizing how distracted she had become that she had not even seen Clywd in the house. Ryan
would have her hide for this, she knew. The thought was not quite rational, but she was past thought.

"The children; get the children," Carissa gasped.

Master McKay was up now, and he came around the curtain that gave him his small privacy, looking
confused. Carissa had collapsed into a chair and sat back trying to overcome the pain. Clywd calmly picked up
the three children and sat them on a couch. They were past tears now and so exhausted their eyes were glazed.

"What happened, Carissa?" Clywd asked, appalled at her state.

"A vampire," Carissa gasped out. "He would have taken them all."

Master McKay came up with a bowl of water and some clean rags. He began sponging the blood from
Carissa's shoulder and he gasped when he saw the deep gouges in her flesh. It looked like some animal had
taken a large bite from her.

"This is beyond my skill, Clywd," the shaken music master said. "Can you fetch Doctor McCarran?"

"No… no doctor." Carissa moaned. "He would know that I'm not human. Clywd, could you get my carriage?
It's outside Reesha's place. I need Ryan." She was getting weaker.

"It's almost dawn," McKay objected.

"The carriage is safe, and she does need Ryan. She'll know what to do for her." Clywd left without saying
anything else.

Carissa reached for Master McKay's hand. "Will you look after the children for now? I'll take them to the new
orphanage when it's open. But right now…"

"Don't worry, I'll see to them." Master McKay did not usually take such young charges. The oldest looked to be
no older than five, although starved as they were, they might be older. They were already huddled together in

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sleep. McKay wrapped a blanket around them where they lay on the couch.

"The older girls will help," he said to himself as much as to Carissa. He wasn't quite sure what to do with
children so young, but he would cope. He looked over at Carissa, but she was no longer conscious. McKay took
the opportunity to tie up the wound as best he could. Had she been mortal, she would have bled to death by
now. Her blood still oozed from the wound, but slowly. It was thicker than human blood, and it held a faint
spicy odor. McKay looked at the blood on his hands. He felt drawn to it. The scent was almost like a drug,
cloying but lighter, sweeter. He licked his fingertips almost as if he was entranced, and the taste was sweeter
then he imagined.

"I've brought the carriage," Clywd said as he strode back into the room. He looked at McKay, at the blood on
his hands.

"Wash carefully, Master McKay," Clywd said. "And be very careful what you get her blood on. Burn those
clothes."

"Is it poison?"

"Of a sort. Drinking vampire blood is how a human becomes a vampire."

McKay felt a chill climbing up his spine. But surely, surely just the tiny taste he took would not be enough. He
watched mutely while Clywd lifted Carissa easily and carried her out to the carriage. He heard the door slam
and then the rattle of wheels, and still he stood completely still. Finally the growing pain in his joints brought
him to himself. He quickly moved to burn the blood-soaked rags and then scrubbed his hands until his flesh
was red. He rationalized that if he still felt the pain of age he could not be a vampire himself. He went back to
bed, but he did not sleep at all.

Timothy drove the cliff road faster than he ever had before. He flicked the whip against the horses' rumps, and
he could imagine their resentment. He had never treated them like that before. The man could only imagine
what Lord Wolf would do if Carissa died before he could bring her home, but it was true affection for Carissa
herself that gnawed at him with worry. The sun was already up when he swung into the drive up to the house.
He fairly flew into the carriage house, bringing the horses to a stop by all but pulling the bits through their
jaws. He would make it up to them, but first her ladyship. He shouted to a sleepy groom to shut the doors.
Only then could he open the carriage door.

Clywd bounded out of the carriage with Carissa in his arms. Timothy knew the catch to the passage to the
house, and he preceded the boy with a lamp, not that the young vampire needed the extra light. Carissa was
still as death in Clywd's arms, and he was afraid that already it was too late. She did not breathe, and to his
vampire sight, her blood lay still. There was no heartbeat at all. He prayed that this was just her skill at
concealment and not her unmaking.

Timothy burst out of the other end of the passage bellowing for Lord Wolf. No one reprimanded him. They all
knew he would not act in such away unless there was a true emergency. Ryan came out of her study holding a
book. One look beyond Timothy's shoulder stilled the question on her lips. She pushed past the coachman
without a word, and when she saw the state Carissa was in, she began shouting her own orders.

Ryan had been home for almost two hours. She had been surprised when Greger had told her Carissa was not
yet home. Usually Carissa was home first, being very sensitive to the position of the sun. Ryan had sat up

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waiting, and when the sun rose, she felt a stab of fear. If Carissa had decided to spend the night with Reesha,
she would have sent Timothy home hours earlier, and the man would not have failed to let Ryan know. It had
taken all of Ryan's will not to go rushing out of the house herself to look for Carissa. When she heard the
carriage pull into the drive, she had breathed a sigh of relief, and with a smile, she began composing the mild
reprimand she would give Carissa. That plan died when she saw her lover.

Ryan gestured for Clywd to carry Carissa to her room. She followed so closely on the young man's heel that she
almost tripped him. She stopped herself and took a deliberate breath. Unless there was a stake through
Carissa's heart, she would survive whatever wounds were covered by the crude bandages. Causing Clywd to
drop her, However, would not help matters.

Clywd gently deposited Carissa on her bed, and then he stepped out of the way to give Ryan access to her.
Ryan gently removed the bloody bandage and gasped when she saw the wound. Alyssa would pay for this, if
indeed she had ordered the attack.

"What happened?" Ryan asked in a soft voice that made Clywd shiver. The boy knew Ryan's moods well
enough to recognize her rage.

"I don't really know. She showed up at Master McKay's with three children, very young ones. She said a
vampire was going to feed on them, so she must have rescued them."

Ryan grunted. "She would."

She cleaned the area very gently, all the while cursing her very idealistic lover to herself.

"She's still bleeding, Ryan. Can you stop it?" Clywd asked worriedly.

"Yes. Watch what I do so you will know how in the future." Ryan bent and very deliberately bit where the
wound was deepest. Carissa was beyond pain for now, and for that Ryan was grateful. Several more times she
bit as gently as she could until she had covered the area of the wound with fresh bite marks.

"Why did you do that?" Clywd asked taken aback.

"Our fangs are hollow, Clywd. Remember I told you that we can inject a substance that gives our victims
pleasure?"

"Yes."

"That substance also keeps the blood from clotting so that we can drink freely. When we remove the pressure of
our bite, a second sub-stance is released, and this clots the blood and helps the wound heal. Whoever did this to
her tore his teeth from her flesh, so only the first substance was injected. The blood could not clot because of it.
The wound would close eventually, but it would take a very long time and leave her very weak. As it is, she lost
too much blood."

"But she won't die, will she?" Clywd asked anxiously.

"No, she won't be unmade from something as trivial as this, although I do hope this will teach her not to come
between a vampire and his prey."

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Ryan turned and smiled at the young vampire. "Go get some sleep. It is way past your bedtime, Clywd. I will
stay with her. And thank you, my friend. I will not forget what you did for her."

"Ryan… Ryan, the gods know how much I owe you, but I did not do this for you. I care for her too."

"I know, Clywd. In a sense, she is your cousin, and I am very glad that she is your friend as well. But still, I will
not forget that you and McKay saved her life. Now get some sleep."

Clywd hugged Ryan and left the room, going to the chamber Ryan kept ready for him in her house. Ryan
turned to Nora who had silently watched, holding a basin of warm water as Ryan treated Carissa's wound.
Now the maid helped Ryan undress her lover. Vampires did not bruise as extensively as humans did, but Ryan
could see the faint discolorations where Carissa's body had been mauled. She felt carefully along Carissa's
ribcage and could feel the broken ribs. But she had fared better in what surely must have been a purely
physical fight than any vampire her age had the right to expect. There were no other bad wounds. Ryan hoped
that Carissa's cane was deeply impaled in her opponent's heart at this moment. Although by now, her
opponent should be a pile of ash. If he wasn't, Ryan would see to the oversight herself tomorrow night.

Carissa woke with a start long after sunset the following night. She started to sit up and then fell dizzily back
against the bed. Ryan was there in an instant.

"Just what did you think you were doing, coming between a vampire and his prey?" She hadn't planned on
scolding Carissa, but the hours of worry had worn her nerves thin.

"Ryan, they were children. He had already killed one of them. How could I let him take them? They would
have died."

"You could have died!" Ryan shouted. It was only the second time Carissa had ever heard Ryan raise her voice.
She felt herself pressed back against the bed.

"Do you know how many children like those die every day? Their bodies are found in the alleys daily.
Sometimes there are only bones left after the dogs and rats are through with them. That is a fact of life, and you
cannot change it."

"I can change it, and I will," Carissa blazed back.

"You cannot save them all, you silly bitch. And I will not have you putting yourself at risk like this. I forbid it!"

"You forbid it? What am I? A child whom you think you can push around? I am my own woman, my lord,
never mistake that." Now it was Carissa's voice that was dangerously soft.

Suddenly Ryan sat back and began laughing.

"What in blazes do you find so amusing, Ryan?" Carissa demanded as she sat up much more cautiously.

"Brynn wouldn't have let me push her around like that either, but she, my dove, she would not have yelled at
me."

"What would she have done?"

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Ryan smiled, caressing the hair back from Carissa's face. "She probably would have apologized for worrying
me and slowly changed the subject so that I could never get a promise from her not to do it again. She was
rather good at managing me, you know."

"Would you prefer if I managed you, my lord?" Carissa sat back against the headboard because the room just
did not want to hold still.

"Ahh, no, I never want you to be anything but what you are. If you were feeling stronger, we could make
glorious love together now," Ryan said rather wistfully. "I do love your fire, my dove."

Carissa smiled back. "Come to think of it, if I were feeling stronger, I wouldn't mind ravaging you myself."

Ryan laughed again and then became serious. "Tell me what happened."

Carissa described the encounter as best she could. "I think I killed him. I was so angry, I left my cane in him as
you instructed. Even if I didn't pierce his heart, I don't think he could have worked it out and fled."

"I don't think so either. Would the sunlight reach that far? How tall were the buildings around the alley?"

"Three or four stories. Badly dilapidated tenements."

"Then there is a small possibility that he escaped. I will go look for him in a little bit. Now tell me, did he give
you his name?"

Carissa shook her head and then grabbed Ryan's arm for support as the small movement spun the room
around her. "No, he never told me anything about himself, but I don't think he could have been one of
Alyssa's."

"Why do you say that?"

"When I asked him if he was of her court, he looked completely confused, as though he had no idea what I was
talking about. And he wasn't a young vampire. He was much stronger than I, and you have told me it takes
ages to develop that kind of strength. Could he have been one of those hermit vampires who avoid cities?"

"It's possible. Could he have been acting?"

"I don't think so. He didn't seem smart enough for that. Also, when he tried to incapacitate me, he did as you
would a human, half choking me. A smart vampire, one experienced with his own kind would know we don't
need to breathe and that choking wouldn't really do anything."

Ryan nodded. "Yes, that is an important point. I will talk to Alyssa after I see if I can find out what happened to
him, but I will be very polite. This does not seem like her kind of attack in any case, unless she was using him to
test your strength." Ryan sat a moment in thought.

"Well, you lost a lot of blood, my dove. You need to feed."

"I don't think I am in any shape to hunt tonight, Ryan."

"You don't need to. Both Nora and Timothy have volunteered. You have a way of winning people's affection

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and loyalty, Carissa. I will send them up to you." Ryan smiled with affection.

Carissa sat stunned for a minute. "Ryan, I don't want to hurt them."

"You won't. You've never hurt Reesha, have you? And you have taken her, haven't you, my dove?"

"How did you know?"

"There is a certain new confidence in you. I think it could only come from having taken complete control.of
your dragon. Do you want me to stay while you feed?"

"No… you don't need to. Even as hungry as I am, I know I can stop myself."

Ryan smiled tenderly and kissed Carissa. "I am very proud of you, dear heart, but please be more careful in the
future."

"I will be, Ryan."

"Good. Eat and then sleep. I will see you tomorrow." Ryan got up and went to the door. She stood a moment as
if uncertain and then turned back.

"Carissa… I love you." From her tone, Ryan was as surprised to hear the words as Carissa was. She stood a
moment in shock, and then she was gone into the night.

15

The Wolf

Carissa was touched to find that Clywd had stayed away from his beloved music lessons for two whole days
out of worry for her. She still felt weak, but after feeding from both Nora and Timothy the floor stopped
moving. She had come down tonight not because she felt the need for Clywd's company, but because she had
worried that Nora would be too much of a temptation for her in her weakened state.

The maid had been very sweet the night before. She had come to Carissa afraid and yet filled with a very
touching courage. Carissa had taken Timothy first, and Greger and one of the footmen had hauled the
coachman off to his own bed to sleep off the effects. Nora had come to Carissa, shyly offering herself in a way
that reminded Carissa poignantly of Reesha. Carissa held the young maid against her and bit her as gently as
she could. She could feel when the pain turned to pleasure, and the young maid's moans had filled Carissa with
delight. Carissa drank her blood and stroked her body, and although she did not make love to Nora, she knew
that the experience would be a pleasurable one. Carissa had fallen asleep with the girl in her arms. When she
woke again this evening, Nora was back, dressed in her uniform and looking very pale. Carissa had ordered
her to bed, but she felt her desire for the young maid very like her craving for blood. She would have to tread
carefully with Nora, for Carissa did not want to damage the pact Ryan had with her servants. She knew Nora
would be very willing, but Carissa was not sure she should take advantage of that willingness. In any case, she
had taken too much from Nora as it was. Carissa needed to hunt, and Nora needed to recover.

When Carissa had come down, she found Clywd staring out of the window. She went to him and hugged him.

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"Thank you for your help, Clywd. I'm not sure if I would have survived without you and Master McKay."

Clywd smiled shyly. "You're very welcome. I really didn't do all that much. It was Ryan who knew how to stop
the bleeding."

"If you hadn't been there… I'm not sure who I could have turned to."

"Reesha?"

"Yes, but she was so far away, and I'm not sure she would have known to bring me home. Clywd, both Ryan
and Alyssa have told me that I can't trust other vampires, but I'm so very glad I can trust you. I'm so very glad
that we are kin, you and I, and that we are friends."

Carissa could see that the young man was embarrassed by her speech. He smiled shyly at her again, but he
seemed to have lost the power of speech. His fingers played nervously with the fringe of the curtains.

"Would you play for me, Clywd? It would help me relax."

"Of course." Clywd moved into the parlor and sat at the piano. He sat in thought for a while, and then he
began playing a Beethoven sonata. Carissa sat on the couch with her feet tucked under her and let the music
flow through her.

Ryan had slipped back into the house through one of the passages. Tonight she had ridden one of the horses
that she carefully accustomed to herself from birth rather than taking a carriage. Her visit to Alyssa had been
very fruitful. She was sure now that the queen was not responsible for the attack on Carissa, but Alyssa's
nervousness also told Ryan that some of her plans were working as she had hoped. Watching her lover now
absorbed in the music gave her a pang of guilt, but it was too late now to stop the wheels she had set in motion.
Some part of her mind insisted that it was still not too late, that they could simply go away together, but Ryan
knew that would only prolong the hunt. It was better to face her foe here on her own ground. And this time, she
would win.

Ryan clapped when the piece come to an end. Clywd was progressing well in his musical studies, but Ryan
despaired of ever teaching the boy some sense of self-preservation. He jumped as if he had been poked when he
heard Ryan. He had not been aware of her at all. Carissa, on the other hand, simply smiled a greeting at her
lover. She had been well aware when Ryan had come to stand in the door of the room, but she did not want to
disturb Clywd's performance.

"You're home early, beloved," Carissa said as Ryan came to sit with her on the couch.

Ryan took Carissa's hand and kissed the palm. "How could I stay away from you?"

"Ummmm, I'll leave you two alone," Clywd said, embarrassed.

"I stopped by Master McKay's on the way home, Clywd. He misses his star pupil."

The young man nodded. "I'll go back tomorrow night, Ryan." He slipped out of the room quickly, but he
turned to look at Ryan kissing Carissa. He sighed and went up to his room.

"I think Clywd has something of a crush on you, my dove."

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Carissa smiled. "I know. He will grow out of it. I do wish there was a nice young woman, or man, he could fall
in love with. Should I try my hand at matchmaking, Ryan?"

"That might be dangerous. He might lose control in the heat of lovemaking, and he is not the kind who could
ever forgive himself if he killed someone he loved. He bears enough of a burden of guilt as it is."

"Then he won't last very long, will he, Ryan? Or will music be enough to sustain him all the long years to
come?"

"I don't know. For now, he is happy, and that is enough. If he can find a single lifetime of pleasure, then
perhaps it would be enough."

Carissa sighed. "I'm glad he and Master McKay have become so close."

"I am too. Now, my love, how do you feel?"

Carissa felt a shiver of pleasure when Ryan called her her love. She smiled at her lover, feeling happier than she
could ever remember. "I still feel somewhat weak. I need to hunt tomorrow, and I will need your help. But other
than that, I feel very well indeed."

Ryan smiled. "I've missed hunting with you. And the aftermath of hunting… If you are feeling strong enough,
that is."

"I'm sure I will be." Carissa smiled and kissed Ryan. Then she changed the subject. "Tell me what you found
out."

"I found your stick in the alley, and a pile of ash. I'm rather surprised your stick wasn't stolen, but the locals
seemed to feel that alley was cursed."

"They are right; it was cursed. Was… was the girl's body still there?"

"Yes, what was left of it." Ryan watched Carissa shudder. "I took care of it, my love. She was buried today by
the parish priest. I talked to Alyssa as well. She assured me that the vampire was not one of hers, and I believe
her. I think you were right when you suggested he was one of those who usually avoid cities, but I do wonder
what brought him into town now. It's not as if there isn't plenty of hunting available in the countryside."

"He looked like a beggar with all the layers of clothing he wore. As if he had no safe place to leave any of it and
must wear it all the time."

"Another possibility was that the articles of clothing were his trophies from the hunt. You know our kind is not
affected by the cold. There was no functional reason for him to keep all those layers of clothing."

"Do vampires go mad, Ryan? Do they become crazy as they fall more and more into being monsters?"

"No. If a vampire is insane, then it's because he or she had that tendency before being made. Even after being
buried alive all those years, my rage, my madness, passed. I don't know that I was even truly insane. I knew
what I was doing was wrong and reveled in the very wrongness of it." Ryan watched Carissa's face tense.
"What, my love?" Ryan asked gently.

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"I… That would be my definition of evil, Ryan."

"Yes, it would be mine as well." Ryan took Carissa's hand and kissed it. "Believe me, love, you don't judge me
any harder than I have judged myself. I've teased you for thinking I have a code of ethics, but in truth I do. I
wasn't a very good person before I was made, maybe because I was always a pawn in some conflict. It was
living with Brynn all those years that taught me how people ought to be treated. I tried to become what she saw
me as: something of a hero. Silly nonsense. I'm not a hero; it is not in my nature. Brynn was truly good, and I
am not. But I do hold to a code. I protect my own. I do not kill or cause pain for sport. And I do not use people
unless I give them something of equal value in return."

Carissa covered Ryan's hands with her own. "That is as good a code as most people live by, Ryan. I'm not sure
what I live by. I…"

"You are like Brynn in many ways. You truly care about people and work to help them."

"Alyssa seemed to be amused by the idea. She seemed to think it very naive of me to care so for the prey."

"I was so afraid I would lose you. When you woke, all I could think of was how foolish it was of you to put
yourself at risk for a bunch of children who would probably dead in a few weeks or months anyway. But
Brynn would have done the same thing. Perhaps I would have too, for the sport of it. Vampires usually don't
spend much time thinking about ethics."

"Do you think I'm foolish for caring, Ryan?"

"I don't know. I do know that caring destroyed Brynn in the end. She cared so much, the weight of her guilt
killed her."

"Have you ever forgiven her?"

Ryan reared back as if she had been slapped. She sat for long moments, looking inward.

"I think I must have." She looked her lover in the eyes. "I don't think I could have let you into my heart if I
hadn't. All those years, I blamed Glyn for betraying me, but it was Brynn who hurt me the most."

"Because you loved her."

"Yes, I loved her, and she left me."

"Ryan, I promise, I will never do the same."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, beloved. Only promise me this: if this existence ever becomes too much,
talk to me first. Please?"

"I promise." Carissa put her arm around Ryan's and buried her face against her lover's neck. She held very tight
to Ryan, and for once, Ryan's caresses were not sensual. After a time, Ryan sighed and kissed Carissa.

"Shall I tell you about Lady Carolyn tonight?"

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"Is she the next portrait on the mantel?"

"Yes. Let's go into my study."

Ryan rose and offered Carissa her arm. They walked through the house together, and for the first time, Carissa
felt it was her home as much as it was Ryan's. She smiled at Greger, and the butler bowed his head slightly, but
the smile he returned was warm with affection. The fire was already lit in the study, and the flames seemed to
welcome Carissa. Even in the heat of summer, Ryan always had a fire here. It was as if in this one place in her
life, she needed light.

Carissa reached for the portrait and turned to Ryan to give it to her. There were two glasses and the waiting
bottle of wine. It felt soothing to complete the ritual: to pour the wine and hand a glass to Ryan. They would sip
it together as they talked into the night. Carissa moved to sit at Ryan's feet, but her lover pulled her into her lap
instead. Ryan opened the portrait and showed it to Carissa.

"She had an interesting face."

Ryan laughed. "Unlike the rest of your ancestors, she was not pretty. But no portrait could ever do her justice.
She was always in motion. Life seemed to sparkle from her, and I don't just mean to vampire senses. In any
crowd of people, she would always be the center of attention. Her hands would flutter when she spoke, and it
was as if she was weaving a spell, keeping everyone's interest even if she was speaking of something as
mundane as buying linen."

"You admired her."

"Oh yes. If circumstances had been different, I would have stolen her away from her fool of a husband, but I
had accepted a task, and I couldn't afford to cause what might have turned into an international incident."

"You have me intrigued, my lord."

Ryan smiled. "I suppose I should go back a few years so you can understand how I became involved. I usually
don't get involved in human politics, but by the reign of James V, politics seemed to have taken a notice of me.
By then I was very well established in Edinburgh as a wealthy merchant. Money has always had its attraction,
and so I began receiving invitations to attend functions at court. It rather amused me that I had entry to both
Edinburgh Castle and the palace at Holyroodhouse. The poor in their hovels were safer from me than those of
royal blood in their well-defended palace."

"Did you hunt among the court?"

"Yes, a bit. I was very judicious, never leaving any evidence of my comings or goings. It was a great new sport
for me: seducing a lady and having her at court. Or coming over the castle walls like a shadow and finding a
victim snug in her bed. I never killed. Indeed, I took the victims very gently, not because they were of noble or
royal blood, which tastes no different from any other, but because I enjoyed leaving behind all those troubling
dreams that the women enjoyed in secret pleasure."

"There were other kinds of invitations as well: to ride with the king when he hunted. These I could not accept for
they were in daylight. Even on a very overcast day, I could not join a hunting party, for I would spook the
horses and the hounds alike. I might have enjoyed that actually, but there were rumors enough about me that I

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did not want some churchmen speculating why no animal could tolerate my presence. Being stoned once was
enough, and I did not want to try being burned at the stake." Ryan took another sip of wine, enjoying the role
of storyteller.

"One fine autumn day, the king went hunting stag while I planned for a hunt of my own. A band of thieves
had taken up residence between the port of Lieth and Edinburgh. I had lost a wagon load of goods, and I
wasn't going to wait for the king's men to get around to flushing the thieves out. I set off at sunset. What I
didn't know was that the king had become separated from his courtiers and guards. He never had much sense
when taken by the heat of the hunt."

"He wouldn't have made a good vampire then."

Ryan laughed. "No, he wouldn't have."

The night was fine, and Ryan enjoyed being out just for the pleasure of it. She was hungry, but not overly so.
She rode one of the horses that had been accustomed to her from birth. There was no love lost between the
animal and her, but at least he would not bolt the way another horse would. Ryan trotted the horse for a mile or
so, and then she drew off the road, picking her way through the forest. She pulled the horse up and let her
senses loose, testing the air around her for human scent, listening for a disturbance in the night sounds, seeking
the heat of human blood. The attack on her wagon had come near here, but the thieves would not make their
lair too close to the road. Neither could they afford to be too far from their prey, for they had no horses. Some
small sign on the night air drew Ryan east. She let her senses guide her, walking the horse slowly until she
could see the heat of the men's blood.

Ryan dismounted and tied her horse to a bush, leaving it enough rein so it could graze. She moved soundlessly
among the trees, so lost in the shadows that even the fox she passed was not aware of her presence. She could
hear voices arguing now. There were five bright swirls of red-hot blood but only four voices. Ryan also sensed
the presence not far off of a larger source of blood: a horse. So, the thieves had found a victim. Ryan smiled and
loosened her sword in its sheath. She didn't really need it, but it might be fun to stage a daring rescue using
only the skills she had learned from human fighters.

Ryan slipped through the brush until she could see the thieves clearly. Sure enough, a bound man was on the
ground. The four men standing over him were going through his saddlebags. From the way the horse was
standing, Ryan could tell it was lame. There was a wicked rope burn on the horse's neck, and Ryan speculated
that the rider and horse both might have been brought down by a rope stretched across the game path. If they
had been going fast enough, it might have broken their necks. Ryan could see how well dressed the man was,
yet he bore no coat of arms. She drew her breath in. When the king hunted, neither he nor many of his
comrades wore badges. This was to make it harder for some assassin to identify the king from the rest of the
party. Ryan wondered if this man could possibly be the king himself. She could not see his face, bundled as he
was in his own cloak, but he was awake. One of the thieves had drawn a dagger. It was time to intervene.

Ryan drew her sword and jumped out of the bushes. She moved in such complete silence that the thieves did
not even realize she was among them until one of their own lay dead. The other three stepped back a pace,
startled. This was as Ryan had planned, for it put her between them and the bound man. They were quick to
draw their weapons, and from the way they stood, Ryan knew they were trained fighters. But they also moved
with some stiffness. Soldiers, but older men then. Perhaps mercenaries trying to make an easier living as

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thieves, or perhaps men turned out of the regular guard for drunkenness or fighting.

Ryan feinted to the right, and drawing all three of her opponents' swords out of line, she drove her fist in a rib-
breaking blow into one man's side. He bent over, clutching his gut. Ryan slashed her sword across the two
remaining blades, driving her opponents back step by step. They were not nearly as skilled as Ryan, but they
gave her a good fight, and she drew it out, enjoying the flexing of her skills. The night rang with the sound of
steel on steel. Ryan drove the men around the clearing until they were puffing for breath. She did not need the
shout of warning from the captive to know when the man whose ribs she had broken came up behind her. It
was time to end it. She took off one man's head with the power of her blow. Then she pivoted to drive her
dagger into the injured man's chest. Before he had even fallen, Ryan caught the last man's blade on her sword
as he tried to take advantage of her distraction. She drove him back three more steps and then plunged her
sword past his guard deep into his gut. She could feel his pain and smell his fear. She drew up on the blade as
she withdrew it, ending his life quickly. He was a thief, but he had fought fairly. He deserved a quick death.

Somewhere in Ryan her demon snarled, demanding to be fed. All the fresh blood was goad. The blood lust
made Ryan's senses spin. Ryan took three deliberate breaths to regain control. She wiped her blade on the dead
man's tattered cloak, and then she turned to the captive.

She knelt by the man and cut the ropes. Now she could see his face, and she knew fortune had served her well
that night.

"Are you well, Your Majesty?"

"I think I've broken my bloody leg, but other than that, well enough. So, you know me. You're not one of my
men."

Ryan moved so the light fell on her face.

"Ahhhh, the merchant, are you. You should be a fighter, with skill like that. You fight like a wolf."

Ryan smiled. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I am just glad I came along at the right time. They didn't seem to
know you. Sometimes it might be better if you did wear a badge."

"Humph… and what would they have done if they'd known I was king?"

"Tried to ransom you instead of robbing you and leaving you dead."

The king laughed. "Well, you have the right of it there: It is better to be ransomed than skewered, but you've
made the point moot."

Ryan had been examining the king's leg. She could feel where the bone was broken. "If I splint the leg, do you
think you could ride as far as the palace?"

"Aye, but my horse is lame. I dunna think he can carry me."

"I have a horse nearby. I'll be back in a minute."

Ryan slipped back into the brush and returned in a few moments, leading her horse and carrying two relatively
smooth branches. She took off her cloak and began cutting the fabric into strips.

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"I need to set the bone, Your Majesty. It will hurt."

"Aye, that I know, and not a flask of whiskey between us." It was a half question.

Ryan shook her head ruefully, beginning to like this man a great deal. She had been impressed that the king
had recognized her. Ryan may have been invited to court functions, but she had never even been introduced to
the king. She grasped the king's leg firmly and pulled it out until she heard the bone snap into place. The king's
curses were as imaginative as they were personal, but they were aimed at the thieves •and their trap, not at
Ryan. She knelt and began binding the splint to the king's leg, padding the ends of the splints with strips of
cloth so they would not dig into his flesh.

"There, that should hold it well enough."

The king looked pale, but he grunted his agreement. "Now, I just have to get up on your bloody great horse,"
he complained. "Any ideas how to get me up there, Master Wolf?"

Ryan laughed and led her horse closer. She whispered some commands, and the king watched in astonishment
as the horse knelt and then went down completely. Ryan stood next to the king's bad side and helped him up. It
took a great many more curses for him to lift the broken leg over the kneeling horse, but in a moment, he was
in the saddle. Ryan urged the horse back up.

"How did you train your horse to do that?" The king asked, impressed.

"My stable master trained him. When he was in the East, he saw some Saracens training their horses like this.
Frankly, I never saw the use of it until today."

"I dunna suppose you would lend me your stable master, Master Wolf?"

Ryan laughed. "I think he would be honored to work for you, Your Majesty."

"Is that how you became Lord Wolf?" Carissa asked.

"Yes. The King ennobled me the Christmas of 1538 and gave me the lands where Wolf Manor stands. By then,
we were firm friends. He liked the fact that I never said one thing to his face and another behind his back as so
many of his nobles did."

"In other words, you told him directly when you disagreed with him."

Ryan laughed. "Yes, I did. The first time, he was so astonished that he couldn't even scold me. I never did it in
public, and he had such a sense of humor that he could laugh at his mistakes and accept that I had my own
mind. And I was valuable to him. My agents in Europe were even better placed then his spies. They should
have been, because I had them in place for generations. I could tell him as much about troop movements by
where supplies were being diverted as his spies could tell him by watching the troops themselves. I could even
anticipate where the next battle would be fought. He trusted me, and I rather liked that."

"I think he was wise to trust you. Maybe he sensed that you among his followers had no ambition for political

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gain. The fact that you were a merchant meant that your ambitions were financial, so he did not have to worry
about how you would try to manipulate his friendship to your advantage."

"Well, that is true enough, and I had no official place at his court. I did not want one, and he felt I served his
interests better reporting directly to him. We would discuss things in private, and only a select few at court
knew that I advised him."

"Did they try to manipulate you, or the king through you?"

"Some of them did. It was mainly the issue of religion that tore at the court. James, and particularly his wife,
were both Catholic. Many of the nobles wanted to break from the Roman church."

"I suspect you sided with the nobles on that issue."

"I told the King how I felt about the church's influence, but once I spoke my piece, I let it be. He did not need
me to tell him how it was polarizing his court. He would sometimes call me the heretic, but again, only in
private. It was a joke between us, but one his wife did not appreciate at all. It was she who was responsible for
the dissatisfaction of James's nobles, so when Henry the VIII attacked Scotland, James rode out with a small,
weakened army. I tried to talk him from riding to meet Henry. He could have waited secure in the highlands
while the English forces outdistanced their supply lines, but James was a stubborn man. He felt that honor
required him to repel the invader. It was a disaster, and he never recovered from it. His daughter was just a
week old when he died."

"Yes, Mary became Queen of Scots before her first birthday. When her mother was proclaimed regent, I lost
my influence at court, for she had no love for me. I did try to protest when she sent the young queen to France
to be raised by her family at the French court, but the queen regent was not going to listen to a heretic. So I left
court and pursued my business interests, doing a little traveling over the next few years. Then Henry II of
France announced the engagement of our young queen to his heir. Many at court saw this as the first step in
the French annexing Scotland. Particularly those lords who were pushing for religious reform became alarmed.
Some of them came to me and asked me to go to France to keep an eye on the young queen."

"Did they expect you to stop the marriage?"

"No, there would have been no way for me to do that short of kidnapping the girl. It would have been treason
to suggest that. I'm not sure what they expected of me, but I agreed to go and see what I could do."

"I am somewhat surprised that you did."

"Frankly, I was bored. Kelsa's great-grandson knew the business better than I did. I could leave him in charge
with no qualms. I had traveled around Scotland and England the past ten years, but I wanted an excuse to go
back to the Continent. And this time, I could go back in style. I had a necklace made up as a wedding present
for the young queen, and I went to her mother for an introduction to the French court."

"Did she give you one?" Carissa asked surprised.

"Oh yes. I might have been a heretic, but I was a very wealthy one. The necklace was truly magnificent. Cost
me a small fortune. Greed was one of Mary of Guise's failings, and she thought me harmless. I was just a
drinking companion of her late husband. She never knew about my spies, and I doubt she suspected that I had

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been asked to go to France by her enemies."

"My voyage over was much more comfortable than the last time I traveled to the Continent. I had a spacious
cabin and well-trusted servants. I did claim seasickness again as an excuse for staying in my cabin, and the
captain was very solicitous of my health. He should have been, since I owned the ship. I had arranged for a
special carriage to be made ready for my trip to Paris, and my journey was completed quickly and
comfortably, but I found that I liked traveling as I had centuries before in my caravan with Kelsa, Clywd, and
Octa better."

"The French court was very different from the Scottish one. Some would say that the Scots were much more
provincial. Our entertainments were rather pragmatic, and we didn't go in much for pomp or ceremony. I
found Paris both delightful and boring. I hated the political dance the courtiers played, but the music and art
were food for my soul. With the royal wedding looming, there were nightly balls either at the palace or in the
most fashionable homes of the nobles. Once I presented the necklace to the young queen, I was on almost every
guest list. It turned out to be a very profitable investment for me, and I received dozens of commissions for
jewelry in those first weeks before the wedding. Everything seemed to sparkle with light and music, but the
shadows were all inhabited by the black-robed priests."

"Did you enjoy all the parties?"

"I did at first, but it was like eating spun sugar all the time. I wanted something of substance, and all I could get
was air. I was not important enough to be included in the royal party. Indeed, very few Scots were welcome in
the inner circle. For a while, I despaired of ever getting close to the queen. I thought that I should speak to her
directly, but there was no way to do that short of sneaking into her bedchamber one night. And she was
guarded even in her sleep."

Ryan sighed from where she stood in the shadows. She had stretched her senses to the fullest, but even she
could not hear what young Mary was saying over the sound of the music and the chattering. Ryan decided to
pull in her senses before she was overwhelmed. It was not the noise that bothered her so much as the stench.
The French seemed to have an aversion to bathing, and they covered the smell of their unwashed bodies with
strong perfumes. Even to a normal nose, the aroma of court could be overwhelming. To Ryan's augmented
senses, it smelled as if she had been buried in the garden compost heap: a particularly revolting combination of
dung, wilted flowers, and rotting vegetables.

Many of the courtiers carried fruits studded with cloves that they held to their noses to mask the other scents.
Ryan would have preferred to dump the entire lot of them in the river, except that the river itself did not have
the freshest of scents.

Unfortunately, Ryan had to attend these parties. It was good business for her, but what was more important, it
allowed her to make contacts among the ladies of the court. As a heretic, Ryan was not considered
marriageable, even if she was single and did have a substantial fortune. But that did not stop the women from
flirting with her. Ryan was careful not to flirt with the unmarried girls; they just would not have known enough
to be of use to her. Instead, she played court to the older, married women, many of whom were not averse to
having Ryan as a lover. If Ryan could not get to the young queen herself, she could get to the women who
surrounded her. Two of them were now Ryan's lovers, and from them, Ryan culled the most intimate gossip of
the court. She did not even have to take the information from their minds. They were happy enough to show

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their own importance by sharing the gossip with Ryan, and from what they told her, Ryan began to build an
accurate picture of the young queen herself.

One thing that was clear was that Mary had not been raised to rule Scotland. She was more than a little
spoiled, and though she knew much of court intrigue, she was ignorant of politics. The women Ryan had
chosen to take as lovers were both fairly shrewd politicians themselves. They could tell Ryan that not only did
the king have a mistress, but that his mistress had more influence on him than his own very formidable wife,
Catherine de Medici. They also knew how Catherine would manipulate the king's policies without his
knowledge to benefit her own very powerful Italian family. On the other hand, the king's mistress, Diane de
Poitiers seemed to be a silly woman mostly concerned with fashion, but Ryan's sources were close enough to
know just how influential she was. Ryan almost pitied the king, caught as he was between two powerful
women who had equally strong and often opposing opinions. What was clear was that Catherine cordially
hated Mary and had consented to the marriage only because of the political gain it would bring France.
Whatever children Mary bore the Dauphin, they would be heirs to both the French and Scottish throne.

Ryan thought of seducing the king's mistress herself to see what kind of influence she could exert on the king
through her, but she discarded the idea as too dangerous. If she were caught, the king would not be merciful to
either of them, and Ryan had no official standing to protect her. She suspected that Diane was too shrewd to
ever betray the king willingly, and though Ryan could control her mind, it would show to anyone who knew
her intimately. So Ryan stood in the shadows wondering why she ever accepted the lairds' pleas to go to Paris.

"You are looking a bit bored, my lord."

Ryan smiled and bowed over Lady Carolyn's hand. "I confess that I am. And you, my lady? Normally you are
surrounded by a dozen or more admirers." Ryan had watched Lady Carolyn over a distance for the past weeks.
Her husband was a special envoy sent to the French court. Perhaps he was good at his job, but Ryan thought
him a great fool for the way he ignored his wife to chase the prettier faces at court. Ryan had wanted to meet
Carolyn for some time, yet she held back for the very reason she wished to know her: Carolyn was descended
from Rosalie, Emily's firstborn daughter, and thus was one of Brynn's, and Glyn's, descendants.

Lady Carolyn laughed. "I can only deal with so much of that kind of admiration, my lord, before I need to take
some fresh air."

Ryan smiled broadly and offered Carolyn her arm. "Then perhaps you would care to take a stroll in the garden
with me?"

"I would like that." Carolyn had been speaking French, but once the two were alone she switched to English.

"You are a long way from home, my lord. Now that the wedding is past, I thought you would return to
Scotland."

"I have many business interests on the Continent. I am in no rush to return to Edinburgh."

"Is your interest only in business?"

"Why do you ask?" Ryan asked, a bit intrigued.

"Because the companions you keep are not those who could foster your business interests. Indeed, one would

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think you were much more interested in politics than in trade, my lord."

"I was not aware that I had been so obvious. I will have to remedy the situation. But tell me, my lady, are not
politics your husband's providence?"

"I did not think, my lord, that you would be one who believed women should limit their interests to the home or
to fashion."

Ryan started, wondering if Carolyn had realized that Ryan herself was a woman. "I believe that women must
take an equal interest in the affairs of the world, my lady. I just had not expected the Earl of Lincoln's lady to be
of such a mind."

"My husband sees to the crown's interests, but that does not mean that I do not wish to advance England's
cause as well. I will speak frankly to you, my lord. It would not be to England's interest if Scotland became part
of France. I come from a part of England that has seen war spill over the border often enough as it is. If
Scotland becomes part of France, then I fear that we will have to keep a constant watch on our borders, for I do
not believe that France's ambition ends with Scotland."

"You are most probably correct, although, as long as King Henry continues this useless war with Spain, France
does not have the resources to wage war on England as well."

"I suspect that war will end soon enough, my lord," Carolyn said cryptically, and Ryan wondered what she
knew. "But once France has a foothold on the island we share, we will not be able to dislodge it so easily, not
without war. And the claim would be legitimate. There might not be war in this generation, or even the next,
but sooner or later, our island would be plunged into a bloody war fueled in equal parts by ambition and
religious fervor, for England will not bow down to the pope again."

Ryan nodded her agreement. She was astonished that Carolyn was so forward thinking. Mortals usually did
not look past their own lifetime.

"I see you agree with me, my lord. I believe we have a common cause here, and perhaps you and I should work
together."

"We have a common cause to an extent, my lady."

"How is that?"

"I do not want to see Scotland become part of England any more then I want it to become part of France."

Carolyn smiled. "Actually, I don't particularly want that either, but it is not in my control."

"And things here are?"

"No, but I do have one thing you do not. I have the ear of Queen Mary, if only to a certain extent."

Ryan nodded. She had seen Lady Carolyn talking animatedly with the young queen. It appeared that even
though Carolyn was a good deal older then the girl, she had caught her interest in some way.

"What do you talk about with Queen Mary?"

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"Mostly foolish things right now. I'm sure you know by now that there is no love lost between her and Queen
Catherine. For all intents, the girl has grown up without a mother, and she sees me as a confidant. She didn't
even know what to expect on her wedding night. I found her crying one day, hiding from her ladies because
she was both ashamed of her ignorance and alarmed because she overheard some of the maids talking about
how she would bleed. I managed to explain things to her, and she has trusted me ever since."

"I am surprised that they allow you to have such close contact with her. You are, after all, the enemy here."

"Why, my lord, France and England are at peace," Carolyn said with a look of feigned innocence.

Ryan laughed. "Yes, and the pope has no interest in temporal power. Mary seems to be completely ignorant of
her people, and she has had no training whatsoever how to rule."

"I know, but she is your queen. You knew her father, I believe?"

"Yes, he was a friend, and I do not use the word lightly. I wish I could do something dramatic such as a vow to
never let King Henry use her for his own gains, but the truth is, I cannot even get close to her."

"But I can, and it is not the king whom you have to worry about. This is what I know:"

"I spent the rest of the night exchanging information with Carolyn. She had gleaned an amazing amount of
information, some of which I passed on immediately to my contacts back in Scotland. She, too, was impressed
with what I had to tell her, information I not only gathered from the women at court, but from my agents all
over the country. One thing Carolyn was right about was that the war with Spain ended just a few months
later. The peace of Chateau-Cambresis was signed, leaving France in much poorer straits then before, and very
soon afterward, Francis II ascended to his father's throne. The loss of the war made Scotland that much more
important to France."

"Did you and Carolyn become lovers that first night?"

"No, and we could not afford to be seen together often. What we were doing together even her husband was
not privy to. If he suspected something about us, he would have done something foolish such as challenge me
to a duel. Actually, I would have welcomed the chance to smash his smug face, but Carolyn was too disciplined
for that. The attraction was there between us, like a solid thing that could be held in the hand and touched, and
then put away in the interest of what we were trying to accomplish."

"Did you ever have a chance to love her?"

"Yes, just once, and then like the mortal she was, she slipped through my fingers and died."

"What happened?" Carissa asked, a bit startled.

"Carolyn would see Queen Mary once or twice a week. In public, they never talked about anything but fashion
and horses. Carolyn was so plausible as the lady of society that she became an accepted part of the young
queen's circle, and no one thought to keep her away from Mary. Over time, Carolyn began to instill in Mary
the idea that she should be home in Scotland, ruling her own people instead of sitting as some decoration next

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to her husband. But it was hard going, for the girl was very ignorant and somewhat besotted with her husband.
When Carolyn spoke of the influence that Catherine had over her son, she could make progress, but when she
talked about Francis himself, Mary would hear only the good things about him. He could do no wrong in her
eyes, and she did not even see how he was manipulating her. And then, I heard some very unnerving news:
Mary had pledged that if she did not bear a child to be heir to the throne of Scotland, she would give over her
claim to the throne to France."

"Oh my. Didn't she realize that she had pretty much signed her own death warrant with that agreement?"

"No, she was too naive to see that her death would be of the greatest benefit to France. I think what Catherine
plotted was for Mary to die in childbirth. It would have been very easy to accomplish. Women died that way all
the time, and there were many herbs that could cause hemorrhaging. It would have been tragic, but Francis
would have found himself King of France and Scotland with presumably a son to follow him."

"Was he part of the plot?"

"There was no real evidence, but I knew he was. He was very much under the control of his mother."

"What did you do?"

"I arranged for the king to die. It was the only way I could save my queen."

Carissa took two deep breaths, accepting Ryan's admission with only a small qualm. "His death was recorded
as the result of an infection."

"His death was recorded as the result of an infection."

"They could hardly report the truth. The infection was real enough, but it was not of the ear. He and his young
friends would go out riding. Hunting they said, but whoring was closer to the truth. They had a favorite inn
that they would often take over. The girls were none too clean, and the young king was already showing signs
of the pox. It might have been a slow death for him, but in the meanwhile he would have infected my queen."

"What did you do?"

"I spent some weeks learning his habits, and one evening, I followed him to his favorite inn. I waited until he
was well drunk and passed out in a whore's bed."

"You took his blood?"

"No, although vampire bites usually heal even if the victim dies, I could not risk leaving a wound. I used a
method that was well neigh undetectable in those days. The room was the best the inn had to offer, with a good
fire going. I melted some lead shot, and using a funnel, I poured it into his ear. The lead burned its way into his
brain, but all that could be seen from casual inspection was some bleeding at the ear. Neither he nor the girl
ever woke. It took but a few moments, and then I escaped back through the window."

Carissa nodded. "Thus they blamed it on an ear infection. Did anyone ever suspect that he was murdered?"

"There was a quiet investigation, but they would have had to open his skull to find how he died, and that they
failed to do. In the end, they reported it as a natural death." Ryan stopped to take a sip of her wine. She

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watched Carissa a moment, hoping to read in her face her reaction to Ryan's confession of being a royal
assassin.

"I can see the expedience of your actions, Ryan, but I do not think I could ever be that ruthless."

Ryan sighed. "It was the only way I could save Mary. More importantly, it was the only way I felt I could save
Scotland from years of war. For all that she was Catholic, Mary of England would not have allowed a French
king on the throne of Scotland. And Elizabeth would have been even less likely to do so."

"In any case, Carolyn didn't have much of a job convincing Mary that her place was in Scotland once her
husband was dead. Catherine tried to stop her, but she could not keep her there by force. She knew that
England would not have stood for that, and France could not afford another war just then. So Mary sailed
home."

"What happened to you and Carolyn then?"

"Carolyn's husband went off to the coast to escort those who had come over for the funeral back to their ships.
For the first time, we had an opportunity to be together, and I took it."

Ryan slipped over the wall like a shadow. Carolyn had invited her to visit, but she did not know that Ryan had
her own plans on how to enter the house. She would not sully Carolyn's reputation, but perhaps she could
convince her to leave her husband now that her purpose had been achieved. Her children were grown, and
there was so much Ryan could show Carolyn.

Climbing the trellis to Carolyn's window was child's play. Ryan slipped into the room and made herself
comfortable. She knew Carolyn would retire early. She was not entertaining, and with her husband away, she
would come to her room to read or perhaps write letters. Ryan hid in the shadows when she heard the footsteps
approaching. It was the maid who came in and turned down the bed, but Carolyn was not far behind. She had
stopped to bathe, something that must have puzzled her French servants, and she came in smelling of the
scented soap. Ryan waited until the maid withdrew, and then she stepped from the shadows.

Carolyn jumped in surprise and then smiled in recognition.

"I knew you would come."

Ryan took her hand and kissed it. "How could I stay away?"

Carolyn stepped into Ryan's arms, and they kissed. "I think I've wanted this from that first time we talked in
the garden, Ryan."

"Carolyn, you know… you do know that I am a woman?"

Carolyn smiled. "Of course I know. I would not have wanted you like this otherwise." Her hands slipped up
Ryan's chest, caressing Ryan's breasts through the fabric.

Ryan found herself at something of a loss. Always in the past, she had been the aggressor. Now she found

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herself being undressed, her flesh stroked very skillfully. She wanted to assert herself, take control of the
situation, but Carolyn had all but paralyzed her with her caresses. For the first time, Ryan allowed another
woman to take control.

Carolyn had pulled Ryan's shirt loose, and now her hands were on the buttons while she kissed Ryan deeply.
Ryan didn't even remember how she had lost her jacket, but when she felt Carolyn's hands on her trousers, she
pulled away. She undid the buttons herself and let the trousers fall. Carolyn's mouth formed an "O" of surprise
when she saw the phallus Ryan wore.

"You don't like to be entered, do you, Ryan?"

"No, it gives me no pleasure."

Carolyn smiled and reached out to caress Ryan's nipples. Ryan pulled her against her chest, crushing her lips
with greedy kisses, but once again Carolyn took charge, pushing Ryan back onto the bed. She straddled Ryan
and began kissing her face, her neck and down to her breasts. Her arms were pinning Ryan's to the bed as she
leaned her weight on them. Ryan had more than the strength to reverse their positions, but somehow, she did
not want to. For once, she surrendered.

Carolyn was nude under her robe. She rubbed her wet crotch over Ryan's belly and laughed with pleasure
when Ryan arched up against her. She moved lower, so she could explore Ryan's body at leisure, and Ryan lay
back, letting Carolyn stroke her. She explored, tracing the muscles under Ryan's skin, leaning down to plant
little kisses on the insides of Ryan's arm, on her shoulders, on her belly. She would lean forward and take a
nipple in her mouth, sucking it until Ryan moaned, and then she would pull back again, going back to running
her fingertips lightly over Ryan's body. It was a very sweet torture, but when Ryan would have captured
Carolyn's hands and pulled her down, Carolyn moved back, grinding her wet pussy against Ryan's mons, and
then Ryan would be lost again as pleasure surged through her.

It was almost a contest of wills. Carolyn teased, trying to get Ryan to ask for what she wanted, what she ached
for. Ryan would feel her desire rising, almost peaking, and she ached for release, yet Carolyn would just pull
back, bringing the ache to a new level. Before, Ryan had always been the one to tease. It was a new experience
for her to be the one in need. It was almost like her demon, demanding to be fed, but all those centuries of
discipline had tamed the dragon. She would not now lose that discipline to Carolyn.

The grin on Carolyn's face grew as she realized that Ryan would not give in. She sat back on her heels and
threw off the robe. She rubbed her ripe body along Ryan's, and again Ryan felt the pleasure mounting. Then
Carolyn rose up on her knees and impaled herself on Ryan's cock. It sank so sweetly into her cunt, and when
she came down, Ryan felt her own cunt spasm as all of Carolyn's weight crashed against her mons. Carolyn
bucked wildly, riding Ryan like a wild horse. Their bodies rose and fell together, and had Ryan still been
human, she would have been bruised by the wildness of their ride.

Ryan threw her head back and let the power surge through her. She felt her cunt spasm again and again. Her
fingers dug into Carolyn's shoulders as the woman continued to buck wildly. Ryan ground against her. She
could hear Carolyn's screams of pleasure, but they came from a distance as Ryan rose in orgasm one more
time. When her vision cleared, Carolyn was collapsed on top of her.

Ryan took deep, deliberate breaths. She stroked Carolyn's hair back and kissed her deeply. The other woman
smiled at her in contentment, and Ryan knew she was not Carolyn's first female lover.

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"Come away with me."

"Ryan… as much as I want to, I can't. My children…"

"They are grown. They have lived these past two years without you. Carolyn, there is so much I could show
you… so much I could teach you…"

Carolyn buried her head against Ryan's shoulder. "You tempt me, my lord, but if I go with you, I will never see
my children again."

Carolyn sat up. "I have come to love you these past two years. You have treated me as an equal and desirable
woman both."

"You are very desirable, my dear."

"My husband never thought me so. I didn't mind so much at home. I had no real interest in his bed, not once
my children were born, and there were other women… You understand. Here at the French Court, he treated
me with such open contempt that there were times I wished you had challenged him."

"Your husband is a fool, and I would have challenged him in an instant if there were not other considerations."

"Thank you for that, Ryan. But it is precisely because he is a fool that I cannot leave him. Someone must see to
the estates, to our children's' futures. I cannot trust him to do so."

Ryan sighed. "I admire you greatly, and I will cherish the memory of this night."

"Thank you, my very dear lord. Perhaps in another lifetime…"

"Perhaps. But the night is still young, my lady. Surely there is time yet to enjoy each other's company?"

"Indeed there is, my lord." Carolyn stroked Ryan's cock. "Will you show me how you prefer to use your spear,
my lord? I hear that you have great prowess at arms."

Ryan laughed and pulled Carolyn down into her arms. This time, she would be the one in control.

"A week later, she was dead."

"How did she die?"

"They said it was a flux of the bowels, but I know arsenic poisoning when I see it."

"Who killed her?"

"I don't know. Her husband was engaged to a Frenchwoman a month after her death, and if I had one shred of
proof, I would have challenged him to a duel."

"Ryan, I find it hard to believe you did not challenge him, even with no concrete proof."

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Ryan grinned. "If he had been the only suspect, I wouldn't have hesitated, but Catherine de Medici was no fool.
She must have known who convinced Mary to return to Scotland. Catherine was not a woman to cross, and her
family had a long history of using poison. But I could hardly storm up to the palace and demand justice of the
queen mother. I did try to investigate, but in the end, I left Paris and sailed home to Scotland no wiser. One
thing I did do for Carolyn was make sure her children did not suffer from her absence. I saw her daughter
married well to a man who truly loved her, and her son profited greatly from his association with me."

"That was good of you, Ryan."

"In some ways Carolyn, even more then Kelsa, restored my faith in Brynn's offspring. The promise I made to
Brynn to watch over her children still held me, my love. And I felt I owed something to Carolyn, for if she died
at Catherine de Medici's orders, then it was Carolyn's association with me that killed her. And she would not
have rued the cost. Securing a kind of peace for perhaps another generation or two was something for which
Carolyn would have gladly given her life."

"I am proud to have had her for an ancestor, Ryan. Thank you for telling me about her."

Ryan kissed Carissa softly. "I think she would have been proud of you as well, my dove."

Carissa smiled. "Thank you, beloved."

"Ryan, couldn't you have kept Mary from her conflict with Queen Elizabeth?"

"I did my best, my love. Twice I saved her from assassins, one sent by Catherine. But no one could keep Mary
from being a fool, and she was that. It wasn't her fault in some ways. They had deliberately raised her not to be
a queen. She had no idea what she was doing, and arrogance seemed to come naturally to her. I'm not sure if
she ever really expected the pope and all of Catholicism to rise up and support her claim to the British throne,
but she acted as if it was only natural that they should. She must have had some contact with the King of
Spain. Certainly, she welcomed his assault on England."

"Could she have been so naive to expect the Spanish to place her on the throne of England?"

"I don't know. There are many 'if onlys' in this story. If only her father hadn't insisted on attacking England. If
only I had gone with him. If only…"

"You couldn't have helped him, Ryan."

"No, I suppose not. So, my foray into human politics seems to have been rather a failure."

"Actually, I think you rather succeeded. If you hadn't, we might all be speaking French now."

Ryan laughed. "Well, the French do make the best of wines. Pour me a last glass, my love, and we will toast
Lady Carolyn."

Carissa rose and filled both glasses. They solemnly clinked the glasses and drank to a woman whom Carissa
truly admired.

Ryan stood at the window, her hands on the curtains. It was too late to look out on the lands she had been

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given. The sun had already risen, and Carissa lay vulnerably exposed on the bed. Ryan sighed, thinking about
what she had not told Carissa of her days at the French court. Carissa did accept that Ryan caused the death of
Francis, but Ryan did not want her to know how she had used Carolyn to cause Mary to miscarry the son who
would have been king of both France and Scotland. Carolyn died from poison, but it was by her own hand
when she learned how she had been used by the woman she loved. That betrayal Ryan would keep locked in
her heart forever. But what of the betrayal she had set in motion now?

16

Ties of Blood

Carissa sat at her dressing table while Nora dressed her hair. A few friends were coming to dinner, and Ryan
had asked Clywd to come play for them. The young man was honored. It would be his first public performance
since he had been changed, and he was well aware that this could be his entree into society and the first step to
a career as a performer. Carissa had sent Ryan to calm the young vampire as she finished dressing for dinner.

Tonight, Carissa wore a gown of crimson silk. It was cut low, off the shoulders, and the skirt was split to show a
fabric of deeper red beneath. It was not that Carissa never wore any other color, but Ryan did so love her in red,
and tonight was very special. It was one year ago tonight that Carissa had come to live at Wolf Manor."

"That looks lovely, as always, Nora. Thank you."

"You are very welcome, m'lady," Nora answered, her fingers resting lightly on her mistress's shoulders. The girl
was deeply in love with Carissa. She had expected to be taken to her bed again after the first time, not that
Nora was even sure what had happened that first time. She knew her mistress had taken blood from her, but
the pleasure she had felt was overwhelming. She ached to experience it again, but Carissa had not touched her.
Nora had been hurt; surely the feelings had not been completely one-sided. She had offered, had given herself
freely, and she knew that Carissa had no obligation to her for anything more. But how could there not be
more?

Carissa had found Nora crying one evening about a month after she had taken her. Nora had been deeply
ashamed, but Carissa had taken her in her arms and kissed her gently.

"Nora, please believe that I value what you gave me deeply. I value you very much as well."

"Then why don't you…" Nora looked down, knowing how raw her emotions showed in her face.

"Because I want to give you a chance at more than being a toy that I take to my bed from time to time. You
deserve more than that. You deserve someone who can love you as wholeheartedly as you love her. And you
know that my heart is given."

"Yes… I know. But it felt so wonderful, m'lady. I have never felt like that before."

"You will again, someday."

"Will it be the same with a mortal, m'lady?"

Carissa looked at the girl, knowing she should lie, knowing she couldn't lie. "No, but then it never is exactly the

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same. Each person is different."

"It's more than that, though. With a mortal, there will be no blood, no fire like I felt with you."

"No, there is no blood, but there is a kind of fire."

"How would you know, m'lady? You never lay with a mortal before you yourself became a vampire."

Carissa smiled. "No, I never did."

"You gave all that up to be with her lordship. Was it worth it?"

"Yes. I would never go back, even if I could. But I love Ryan, and she loves me. You would have to settle for
second best, Nora. Is that what you want?"

"You think my being in love with you is just because of the pleasure. That it will pass after a time."

"Yes, I do."

"Even if it does, is it wrong to want the pleasure now?"

"No, but what if it doesn't pass? Will you be content being my toy?"

"Yes, mistress."

Carissa sighed. "You are very young, Nora, and very sweet. I want you to take some time to think about this.
Talk to your mother. Talk to your friends. And if you still wish to belong to me in six months, then come and
tell me."

"You wouldn't do that if you did not care for me," Nora said hopefully.

"No, I wouldn't. I would either take you now and use you, or send you away altogether."

"Then I will do as you ask, but I will never stop loving you, m'lady."

Carissa kissed the young maid again and wiped her face. "And you will also always be special to me, no matter
what you decide, Nora."

Three months had passed since that conversation. For Nora it meant that half the time she had to wait was
passed. Over the past months, she had become more of a friend to Carissa, and that too she treasured. Carissa
always treated her with kindness. Now the girl stood, imagining what it would be like to come to her mistress's
room after the party. To help her undress. To stroke her lovely skin. She had seen Carissa naked more then
once. How she longed to touch that beautiful body. How she longed to be touched by those hands.

"You look as beautiful as ever, my dove," Ryan said from the doorway.

Nora flushed scarlet and pulled her hands from Carissa's shoulders as if they had been scalded. She turned and
fled the room.

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"You are going to have to do something about her, Carissa."

"What do you expect me to do? Turn her out because she has fallen in love with me? I shouldn't have taken her
in the first place, but I did, Ryan. I've spoken to her mother, and she understands. She thinks it will pass in
time."

"It won't. That one is a true submissive. She wants nothing more than to worship you, my dear, and your only
choices are to allow her to, or to send her away."

"In truth, I don't want to send her away, Ryan."

Ryan smiled. "Then take her. You will both enjoy it."

"You don't mind?"

Ryan caressed Carissa's shoulders. "No, I don't mind, my love. She is a sweet young woman, and you will care
for her gently. Her mother might not like it, but she will accept that it is her daughter's nature." Ryan took a
deep breath. "But tonight you are all mine."

Carissa smiled into Ryan's eyes. "I am always yours, my lord."

Ryan took a rope of fire from her pocket. A single large ruby was suspended from a string of diamonds. Ryan
deftly placed the necklace around Carissa's neck.

"Oh, Ryan, it is magnificent."

"Happy anniversary, my dove."

"Thank you, Ryan." Carissa turned, and Ryan lifted her from her seat and kissed her deeply.

"Are you happy, beloved?" Ryan asked.

"You know that I am. I cannot ever imagine being happier than this."

"Then you have no regrets?"

"None. Do you, my lord?"

"Only that our guests are arriving shortly, and I cannot ravish you as I so wish to."

Carissa laughed and kissed Ryan again, pressing her body against her lover's. Ryan held her close, and Carissa
sighed at how well they fit together. Ryan was half a head taller, and Carissa loved tucking her head under
Ryan's chin. She could just feel the softness of Ryan's breasts hidden by the formal waistcoat and stiff, boiled
shirt. "We were meant to be together," Carissa thought, and now she neither feared nor resented her destiny as
Ryan's lover. How could she resent it, when Ryan gave her so much, even her freedom?

"We had better go downstairs," Ryan said reluctantly.

"Now who is being the nag?" Carissa asked with a twinkle in her eye. She moved gracefully out of Ryan's arms

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and squeaked when Ryan swatted her ass. She loved this playful mood, and as much as she had been looking
forward to this party, even more she looked forward to being alone with Ryan afterward.

Clywd played brilliantly. He chose two sonatas, one by Beethoven and one by Mozart, but finished the
program with a wild Gypsy-sounding work that Carissa suspected was written by Master McKay. The young
man shyly accepted the praise of his audience, but when a young woman began flirting with him, he looked
helplessly at Carissa. She rescued him and kept him close the rest of the evening, telling everyone he was her
cousin, not mentioning how many times removed.

After dinner, Carissa and the women withdrew to let the men, and Ryan, drink their port. Normally, it was not
a custom Carissa approved of since she preferred port to tea herself, but tonight she wanted to talk to her
friends about the orphanage. Twenty-seven others had joined the original three children. The quarters were a
bit cramped, but no one had the heart to turn any child away. Some had been brought by parish priests who
found the children wandering alone. Others had been brought by desperate mothers who could not feed them.
And every day now, the orphanage had to turn away children because there was no more room, thus plans
were being made to buy a second building.

"But how will we staff it? The initial outlay for the building will be bad enough. Furnishing it will be
challenging, but at least we can expect contributions for the initial outlay. People are willing to give money
when they can see something concrete in return. It is the upkeep that is so difficult."

"If we can get the bill passed through the city council, we can expect some funding from them, but that is still
months away. And if they learn we are taking children with living parents, then we will not receive any funds
at all."

"These mothers are little more than children themselves," Carissa said. "Many of them lost their places as
servants when they became pregnant, but that does not mean they were not hard workers. Their choice now is
limited to one: to sell themselves on the streets." Some of the women looked shocked at Carissa's
straightforward assessment, but her closest friends nodded their understanding.

"What if we made it a condition that any woman who wishes us to take her child must come work for the
orphanage? This would give them food and a place to sleep so that they do not have to sell themselves, and it
would allow them contact with their children. Moreover, it will give us a source of inexpensive labor and still be
of benefit to both the mothers and the children." There was a buzz when Carissa offered the plan.

"Won't the children who don't have mothers become jealous?"

"Not if we encourage these women to open their hearts to the other children. I think this will work, Carissa.
Now if we…"

Carissa sat back and smiled. Augusta really was the best organizer of the group. She would have the whole
system worked out in a few hours, and by the time they were ready to open the second building, Augusta
would have the staff already trained. Carissa was very glad that this Augusta was so very different from her
grandmother who had the same name. There was no hypocrisy in this young woman, nor was she prone to
sanctimonious pronouncements. Carissa may have initiated the idea of the orphanage, but it was Augusta who
made Carissa's ideas work. She was married to a young politician, but Carissa wished that her friend herself
could sit on the council instead of her somewhat pompous husband. Still, Ryan kept the young man in line, so
things were working out very well.

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Carissa watched her guests leave with a feeling of pleasure. She had enjoyed having them there to celebrate her
anniversary, but she had other plans for the rest of the night. She turned to go upstairs, but Clywd was waiting
for her.

"Carissa?"

"Yes, Clywd? You played brilliantly tonight. I received so many compliments, and several of my friends were
wondering if you would entertain at their parties."

"I… I would like that, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it, Clywd?"

"It's Master McKay."

"Is he ill?" Carissa asked with concern. McKay was a close friend of Reesha's, and Carissa knew her lover would
be hurt if something happened to the music master. But McKay had also become Carissa's friend, and her
concern was very personal.

"He… he was very sick earlier this week. But something… Can you come to see him tomorrow, Carissa?
Please?"

"I'll come right now, if it's that serious. Let me just tell Ryan—"

"No, tomorrow is soon enough. I can take care of my master until then. In fact, I had better go now. I'll see you
tomorrow?"

"Yes, I'll be there."

"Thank you, Carissa." Clywd gave her a quick, shy kiss on the cheek and then almost ran for the door and the
carriage that was waiting to take him back home.

"What was that all about?" Ryan asked as Carissa joined her going up the stairs.

"He is concerned about Master McKay's health and wanted me to come see him. I offered to go tonight…"
Carissa felt Ryan's growl and laughed. "Well, apparently tomorrow night is soon enough."

"Good!" Ryan picked Carissa up and carried her up the rest of the stairs. From the way Ryan's eyes devoured
her, Carissa suspected she would not have the opportunity to wear her anniversary gown again. Well, perhaps
Nora could make some nice children's frocks from the fabric.

Carissa woke a bit late the next evening, but then Ryan had kept her up until after dawn. Their lovemaking
seemed only to get better. Carissa felt the bite marks on her breasts and neck. Ryan had drunk from her many
times the night before: little teasing sips that inflamed both their desires. Carissa knew what control it must
have taken for Ryan to tease them both in such a way. She still felt a deep sensual stirring. Well, she could
finish her business with Master McKay early and be home in time to seduce Ryan tonight. Perhaps she should
hunt first, so that she would have the energy to continue last night's game.

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Carissa enjoyed the ride in the crisp, autumn weather. She still missed Nightshade, her beloved stallion, but the
horse could not bear her in her changed form. Rather then risk breaking either the horse's limbs or spirit,
Carissa had sent the stallion out to stud. Ryan's stable master assured her that she would be able to train one or
more of the stallion's offspring to bear her if she handled it from birth, but it would not be the same. Ryan's
horses bore her, but they did not move with her the way Nightshade had moved with Carissa. She sighed,
thinking that some losses were easier to bear than others. She did not mind being barren. Most of the time, she
did not even miss the daylight. But she did miss galloping her horse into the wind taking whatever obstacles
came with the confidence that she and Nightshade could move as one.

Carissa sent the coachman to wait at a nearby tavern. She knocked on Master McKay's door and was surprised
to hear no sounds of music from within. McKay held classes well into the evening hours, and, by his standard,
it was still early.

"Come in, Carissa. Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Not at all, Master McKay. I was… am in some concern for your health. Clywd said you had been unwell."

"Haven't we been friends long enough for you to call me by my given name?"

Carissa smiled. "I would if I knew it."

"Ahhhh, I am Ian."

Carissa came in and sat on the sofa, a much more comfortable one than McKay had when she first came to see
him. The warehouse had been almost transformed since Ryan bought it. Ryan had not only repaired all the
leaks, she had also built a few partitions and had the whole place painted. It still managed to look dark, but no
longer quite so seedy. The children slept in real beds now, and there was a real kitchen where meals were
cooked. Carissa's main contribution, aside from clothing and food, was a small but growing library where the
children learned to read and write. Clywd had discovered that he enjoyed teaching almost as much as he
enjoyed playing the piano. Carissa was as proud of her contribution here as she was of the orphanage she and
her friends had built, but she never forgot that it was McKay himself who had taken the children in and had
shared what little he had with them long before Carissa had arrived.

"Can you tell me what is wrong, Ian?"

"I… I died a few days ago. Or, I think I did."

Carissa's eyes widened. She looked at McKay with her vampire sight, and what she saw was very strange. She
could see the deeper colors that were vampire blood beginning to tinge master McKay, but his human blood
still glowed with a fire of its own. Where the two met, it was as if two kinds of fire burned. It looked painful to
Carissa.

"Did Clywd give you some of his blood?"

"No… I…" McKay looked away from Carissa, and she could see he was both troubled and embarrassed. He
got up and began to pace the room, and Carissa noted that his movements were much more fluid then those of
the old man she had first met.

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"How did you die, Ian?"

"I think it was a heart attack." This was easier to talk about. "Your friend Lady Augusta had come by to take
the children for an outing. They don't get many treats, and she was having a party at the orphan-age, and she
invited my charges to go. Well, you probably know about that."

Carissa nodded.

"Not long after they left, I felt this terrible pain in my chest. I collapsed there, at the piano, and I didn't even
have the breath to call for help. Not that Clywd would have heard me. He is the soundest sleeper. After a while,
the pain seemed to diminish, but so did my sight. I remembered thinking that it was just too much work to
breathe, so I stopped. And then everything turned rather black."

"Did the children find you when they came back?" Carissa wondered why Augusta hadn't said anything.
Surely she would have, if she had found Master McKay collapsed.

"No, Clywd did. He said something woke him early. He wasn't sure what. He found me and put me on my
bed. He knew I was dead. My body was cold already. He didn't say anything to the children or to Lady
Augusta. He wanted to talk to you and Ryan first. So he gave the children their dinner and put them to bed,
and then he came to take a look at me before setting out for Wolf Manor. I was awake by then, although I felt
very strange indeed. He would have fetched a doctor, but… but I didn't think that was wise."

Carissa nodded and took a deep sigh. "Ian, sometimes a person becomes, well, sort of becomes a vampire, but
until he dies, his body does not begin to change. It's not very common, since vampires usually drain their
victims if they are going to change them, but Ryan has heard of a few cases. You said that it was not Clywd.
Were you ever attacked by a vampire before?"

"No."

"It's possible that you might not remember. A vampire can change memories. Well, a skilled one like Ryan
can."

"Ca… Carissa, it was you. At least, I think it must have been you."

Carissa felt a chill. "I've never touched you. I gave you my word."

"I… I know. When you were wounded that night you brought those children to me, I tried to clean your
wound. I applied a bandage to try to stop the bleeding."

"Yes, I remember. Ohhhh…"

"I had your blood on my hands. Clywd went to get your carriage. I don't why I did it Carissa. It was as if I was
drawn to your blood, to the scent of it. I just took a tiny taste from my finger…" Carissa could see how deeply
embarrassed McKay was. He could not look at Carissa at all. She got up and hugged the music master.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I… nothing happened, so I thought it wasn't enough. Clywd warned me about the blood when he came back
with the carriage. I burned the cloth and washed my hands, and over the next days, I waited for some sign that

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I had changed, but nothing happened. So I thought I hadn't taken enough blood. I'm so sorry, Carissa."

Carissa led the man over to the couch and sat with her arm around him. "I am the one who should be sorry,
Ian. You were only trying to help me, and I made you into a vampire."

"It wasn't your fault, Carissa, and I would be dead if it hadn't been for you. I find I very much don't want to
die."

"Because of Clywd?"

"Yes." The word was a whisper.

"Are you and he lovers?"

McKay could still blush. "No. We… I was so much older than him. Yes, I know, he is years older than he looks,
but I was old in body, and I knew I would not live very much longer. I'm almost seventy-five, Carissa. What
could a man my age offer a boy like that?"

"Your love. Ryan is almost eight hundred years old, and it makes no difference to me."

"But there is a difference. Ryan can live for eight hundred more years. I have been dead four days."

Carissa smiled. "It is different now. Your years give you experience, but they do not take away from what time
you have to come."

"Yes, it is different now. Do you think?"

"I know he likes men, Ian, and I know he cares very much for you. As you continue to change, you will look
younger, although I don't think you will ever look as young as Clywd. Your body will have much more vigor."

"Yes, but I have to pay for those changes. Clywd has explained some of it to me: the blood lust, the need for the
hunt. I can't eat food anymore. It just makes me sick. Clywd has brought me blood from the slaughterhouse
twice now, but I am not sure that will be enough for me, as it is for him. But I don't want to become a killer,
Carissa. Can you teach me?"

"Ryan would be a better teacher."

"Perhaps she would, but I need for it to be you."

"Why?"

"I don't trust Ryan as I do you. I know. I know she has done much for the children and for me, but she does it
for you, not for any real concern for these children. Maybe she has just lived too long, Carissa, but there is a
coldness in her. When she looks at humans, it is with possessiveness. Some are her servants, and some her prey,
but that is all we are to her anymore. I am sorry to say this to you."

"No, I know Ryan can be cold. I know she is possessive as well, but she does care. Her people are treated better
than other servants, than other employees. All of them are treated well, not just the ones who serve her directly."

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"I know, Carissa, but did she ever tell you why?"

Carissa smiled in remembrance. "She said it was because sheep pastured on green grass give more wool than
those pastured on rocky soil. But, Ian, I know her better than that. I know how she cares for me, how she cares
for Clywd. She loves him, too, even if she never uses the words."

"Yes, I know she does. But you and Clywd are hers. I am not, nor will I ever be. I trust in your humanity,
Carissa, in a way I cannot trust her. But more than that, I feel a kinship to you somehow. Part of it is because
you love Reesha, but part of it is because I have your blood in me now. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it does, and of course I will help you. In a sense, you are my child now."

McKay laughed. "I am three times your age."

"True, but you are an infant vampire. Now tell me, how do you feel?"

McKay sighed. "All of the old pains are gone, but they have been replaced by a whole new set. I feel as if my
body is battling itself, and it is only all the years of pain I had before that keep me from running screaming into
the sun."

Carissa winced, knowing that Clywd would have explained just what the sunlight would do to Ian now. "I need
to drain your human blood. Ryan told me once that something in the human blood tries to reject the new
vampire body. But when I drain you, you may sleep for days, and when you wake, you will be very, very
hungry. Ian, I know you love the children you take care of, but you cannot risk being around them when you
wake."

Ian turned pale, understanding from Clywd's description of his first hunger just how dangerous he would
become. "What… how do I slake that hunger without becoming a killer?"

"You have had seventy-five years of discipline. Now you will have to apply it in a new way. I think it would be
best if you gorged on animal blood when you first wake. Clywd can look after you and have the blood ready
for you. After you have drunk it, I will take you on your first hunt. We will look for someone… a would-be
rapist or killer so if you cannot control the hunger, the life you take will not be—"

"Carissa, all life is precious."

"I know, Ian. I am so very grateful that Ryan taught me how to hunt without my ever having to kill. I will try
to teach you that way as well, but I myself am not as strong as Ryan. I think you are a very strong-willed man,
but there is a demon—Ryan calls it a dragon— curled up in your belly now. The scent of blood will drive it
mad. I will do my best to help you, but there are no guarantees. And if you do kill, would you not rather it be
someone who belongs to the hangman's noose instead of one of the children sleeping upstairs?"

McKay nodded reluctantly. "In my life, I have hated two men enough to want to kill them, but I did not
because I knew that it was wrong. Not that they didn't deserve death, but if I killed, I became like one of them.
And if everyone took life when they were angry enough or felt justified, then the world would be a bloody
place. And now, now I have to take the blood of some one who has done me no harm. Perhaps I would be
better off just dying."

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"Am I a monster, Ian? Is Clywd a monster? Is even Ryan one?"

"No."

"You have this choice too. Believe me, if you were the kind of self-indulgent person who would come to enjoy
killing for the sport, then I would do my very best to unmake you now, before you did any harm. I might not
like it, but I could not let my responsibility lapse because it was an unpleasant task. I did destroy that vampire
who was feeding on children."

"Is that the only time you have killed?"

"Yes, but I do know that in this existence, I may have to kill again, perhaps many times. I do know I will never
kill a human for sport, or even just because I think he deserves death. You have the strength of will to make
that choice as well."

"Clywd didn't."

"Clywd was not made by a man who wanted to help him, nurture and teach him. And Clywd did make a
choice, perhaps even a harder one then I made. He only drinks animal blood. He does not even hunt the
animals. He denies his demon completely. Don't you think that takes a great deal of self-control?"

"You're right, my dear. I've just never thought of it that way."

"You are in pain now, aren't you?" Carissa asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, more than a little."

"Where is Clywd? We need to make some plans with him."

"I sent him to the slaughterhouse. I wanted to talk with you in private, and the boy has been so concerned
about me, he hasn't been taking care of himself. He should be back soon."

"While we are waiting, there are some things I should tell you. Clywd has warned you about the sun. Has he
told you what other dangers we face?"

"Only about the hunger, and how it can consume me."

Carissa nodded. "For the most part, vampires are very hard to destroy. We are not prone to any disease, we are
immune to almost every poison, and we can heal from almost any wound."

"Is it true that a wooden stake driven through the heart can kill us?"

Carissa smiled. "Where did you hear that?"

"A Gypsy tale Reesha once told me."

"Ryan says that it is theoretically possible to heal even from a stake through the heart, but she has never heard
of any vampire doing so. We heal so well, and so quickly, that a steel blade through the heart will barely hinder
us, but a thick wooden stake leaves a larger wound that is very difficult to heal. But if you want to be sure of

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unmaking a vampire, leave the stake in the wound."

"Let's see," Carissa continued. "We can be consumed by flames, but we do not need to breathe, so we cannot
drown or suffocate. Decapitation will kill us, but Ryan once saw a vampire with the side of his skull crushed.
She could see the man's brains and assumed that he was unmade. But three nights later she met him again,
and he was healed, although he did not remember being injured and his speech was slurred."

"So, we are very hard to kill," Ian said thoughtfully.

"We are already dead," Carissa reminded him gently, "but, yes, we are hard to unmake. However the one
exception to our immunity is silver. It is poison to us, and a very painful poison. Even prolonged exposure
through our skin will kill us, although it will take months. Ryan keeps a silver dagger in her boot, and the cane
I carry is shod with silver. That is how I managed to unmake the vampire who was feeding on the children: I
drove the silver point of my cane into his heart. If you have anything silver, a watch, or jewelry, you need be
very careful with them."

McKay snorted. "Anything I had that was silver I sold long ago to pay for food. What about the cross or holy
water?"

"Ryan says it is not the cross or what it symbolizes that can harm us but the belief of the person who wears it.
That is why we cannot enter a house uninvited: if the dweller believes in the sanctity of his home, then it keeps
us out. I don't know if holy water has any effect, but I suspect it would act like a cross. If the person wielding it
has faith in it, then it will repel us."

"And garlic?"

Carissa laughed. "Since our sense of smell is heightened, garlic can be rather overwhelming, but it will not
harm us. That is all that I can think of for now, but is there anything else you would like to ask, Ian?"

"When we feed, how do we know when we've taken enough blood?"

"We have never taken enough blood," Carissa said with emphasis. "Our demon is always hungry. What you
mean is how do we know if we are taking too much blood. It takes practice, but you can tell from the color of
your victim's blood."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Haven't you noticed when you look at the children upstairs that their blood glows a bright scarlet?" Ian shook
his head. "Not even when you are hungriest?"

Carissa saw comprehension dawning on McKay's face. "The children are mostly asleep now when I am awake,
but yes, I did see red sparks around them, but I thought it was just something wrong with my vision. I used to
see sparks like that when I got up too quickly, or when my heart labored."

"What you are experiencing is the hunting sight of a vampire. We can see living blood, even through solid
walls. It cannot be hidden from us. I will help you learn how to focus this sight, but to answer you question, you
can tell how much blood you have taken by the color of your victim's blood. A healthy human has bright red,
sometimes golden-red blood. A sick human's blood is a deeper red. As we drain blood from a victim, it begins to

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cool. As the shade changes toward purple, you know the victim has been drained too much. It takes practice to
know when—what color—is a good point to stop. Some victims can give more then others."

McKay nodded his understanding and then shuddered in pain.

"I wish you would let me send for Ryan." Carissa said, watching him.

"Please, no, Carissa. I'd rather Ryan didn't know about me at all."

"She has to know. Has Clywd told you about Alyssa and the power structure of vampires in the area?"

"No. I had assumed vampires were individualists."

"That would lead to a fair amount of chaos. Where to start…" Carissa spent an hour or so telling McKay about
the delicate power structure of the region. Clywd came in on the last part of the explanation and sat quietly
until Carissa finished.

"So, if I hunt in this region, I need to be part of either Ryan's followers or Alyssa's?" McKay asked at the end.

"Well, Ryan doesn't really have a court or any followers unless you count me. And she doesn't really want any
because then it might look to Alyssa that Ryan is building a power base to take over Edinburgh. You will have
to meet Alyssa, but I am not sure what kind of pledges she will ask for. That is something I really need Ryan's
advice about."

"Do you trust Alyssa?" Clywd asked.

"I liked her when I met her, but I really don't know if I trust her. I think we will just have to deal with her as best
we can. The fact that you don't particularly trust Ryan will actually be an asset. Well, that is for the future. Now
we have to deal with your physical needs."

Carissa explained to Clywd that McKay needed to have as much of his human blood drained as possible so that
he could complete the transformation without pain. Both Carissa and Clywd wanted to bring McKay back to
Wolf Manor to complete the process, but Ian refused. In the end, Carissa sent Clywd out to buy some heavy
chains and a lock. The warehouse did have a cellar, and Carissa moved an extra bed down into the damp
chamber. The door could be locked, but as an added precaution, McKay would be chained to a stout timber so
that he could not inadvertently escape and feed on one of the children who slept upstairs. Clywd would look in
on his teacher nightly and bring him blood when he woke. Carissa would come immediately when summoned
to take McKay on his first hunt. It seemed like a workable plan, but Carissa drew Clywd aside for a private
word.

"I trust you to look after him, Clywd, and I thank you for your help. He is my responsibility."

"He… he is my teacher and my friend. I don't want him to go through what I did those first days."

Carissa hugged her many-times-removed cousin. "You care a good deal for him, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to be the one who drains him Clywd? I think he would like that."

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"I… What if I lose control?"

"There is no reason not to lose control this time, Clywd. He is already dead, and you cannot harm him by
taking too much."

"Carissa, I killed… I'm not even sure how many people I killed before Ryan taught me to hunt animals. I can't
face that again. Even if Ian is already dead, it would still feel like I killed him."

Carissa smiled. "I understand, Clywd. I'll be as gentle as I can with him."

"There… you won't… I mmmean…"

Carissa could see that Clywd was totally embarrassed now. She smiled. "There won't be anything sexual about
this. I am not interested in men, and he has no desire for women. I think, after I am done, he would like it if you
held him. Just make sure you lock him up before you go to sleep."

Clywd nodded gratefully. They settled McKay on the bed comfortably. Clywd sat with an arm around his
mentor's shoulders giving him support. Carissa smiled at Ian and ran her fingers through his white hair. She
tilted his head, and before either Ian or Clywd could react, she bit him deeply. For the first time in her vampire
existence, she gorged on the blood. It ran hot in her mouth, and the dragon uncoiled and snarled in satisfaction.
There had been no hunt tonight, but the red glory that flowed so hot and freely more than made up for that
lack. Carissa's senses were totally involved now. She had been wrong when she said there would be nothing
sensual about drinking Ian's blood. Not that she desired him, or he her, but she felt her entire body engulfed in
a flame of energy. She wanted Ryan now. She wanted to feel her lover take her over and over, pounding deep
into her. As soon as she was done here, she would gallop the horses all the way home. Now she was almost
impatient to finish. She felt the last of the red heat draining from Ian. Now he was all cold purples. She began
to withdraw, even as the dragon snarled again insisting she continue to feed. The struggle lasted only a few
seconds, but in that time, Carissa had her first taste of vampire blood. She pulled back reluctantly, for if human
blood was like a fine vintage, vampire blood was like the most refined liquor. Now she understood the little sips
Ryan took the night before.

For Carissa, the ride back to the manor never seemed to take so long before. She had to bite her tongue to keep
from shouting at Timothy to hurry. She drove her nails into her palm, striving to control her lust. The carriage
had barely come to a stop before she bolted out of the door and up to the house. She could feel Ryan's presence
there, in the study. She ran past Greger, ignoring his question asking if anything was wrong.

Ryan was sitting at the desk working on some accounts. She liked to keep the reins of her business firmly in her
own hands. Most of the time, she enjoyed the challenge of making money, but things were running too
smoothly right now, and she was bored. She barely had time to put her pen down when Carissa slammed into
the room, throwing the door shut behind her. Ryan opened her mouth to ask what was the matter, and Carissa
was there in her arms, her mouth demanding on Ryan's.

Ryan felt her jacket, her waistcoat being ripped from her shoulders as Carissa shredded them with her nails.
She was full of an unholy strength, and all of it was directed at satisfying her lust. Ryan could taste the blood on
Carissa's lips, and she laughed to herself in understanding. She twisted in Carissa's arms, and in a moment, she
had her lover pinned under her on the carpet.

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"Now, we will do this my way," Ryan hissed as she began to tear the gown from Carissa's body. As she bent her
mouth to Carissa's breast, she felt her lover struggling beneath her. Now this, this was much more interesting
than some business accounts. Ryan laughed in pure joy and began devoting her single-minded attention to
ravishing her wild lover. It was only at the very back of Ryan's mind that she wondered where Carissa had
gotten a taste of vampire blood, but soon that thought too was lost in the heat of the two women's passion.

17

Death, Where Is Thy Sting?

It had been harder to teach Ian McKay to hunt than Carissa had imagined. Twice the man had killed before his
first and worst hunger had been sated. Even with the animal blood Clywd supplied, Ian's demon was too
powerful to deny. But those had been the only two deaths. Carissa was glad that the music master felt a certain
amount of guilt about the deaths. She herself had mixed feelings about the killings. Both men were killers
themselves. The first they had stumbled upon beating an old man for the gold watch and money he carried.
Carissa had been too distracted by helping the victim to control Ian, and Ian's overwhelming hunger drove him
to drain the man of blood. The second victim was someone to whom Reesha had alerted Carissa. The man had
beaten his wife so badly she had miscarried and died. There were no laws protecting women from such violence
at the hands of their husbands. It was a mere technicality that she had died two days later of hemorrhaging,
and the police hadn't even tried to arrest the man. What outraged Reesha most was that he was already
courting a young woman from one of the dance halls. The girl had little sense, but she was one of Master
McKay's former students. Neither Carissa nor Ian felt much remorse when her suitor died, but Carissa knew
this was a dangerous path to follow. Playing judge and executioner was a role neither she nor Ian wanted to
pursue.

After the first two incidents, Carissa changed her approach. She chose men who just happened to be about, not
necessarily criminals. Ian was much more nervous about these victims, but he was also more motivated to
control his appetite. There had been no more deaths, although several times Carissa had to pry Ian off his
victims by force. The last half dozen times Carissa had taken Ian hunting, he had stopped himself well before
the victims were in any danger, and Carissa had gratefully pronounced Ian ready to hunt by himself. She had
learned much from teaching Ian, including an appreciation of just how unusual she was. She had thought of
Ian as strong and disciplined, but it had taken him much longer to control his appetite than it had taken
Carissa. She had always given Ryan the credit, but now she understood that the strength was her own. It gave
her a new confidence without diminishing the gratitude she felt for Ryan for taking such good care of her.

The winter had been cold and hard on Edinburgh. Storms had closed the port of Leith for months, and people
had huddled in their houses seeking what warmth they could find. It made hunting all the harder, for the few
folk who were out in the cold night usually were the ones who could least afford to lose blood. Ryan had several
sources she could feed from regularly: young women she kept in comfort, supplying them with a warm home
and ample food as well as little gifts they cherished. Carissa could have had much the same with both Reesha
and Nora as well as several other servants who had volunteered, but she did not like the idea of using people in
that way. It may not have been logical, but somehow it felt more wrong to her to take from the willing servants
than some unwilling stranger. It was too much like keeping them as a flock of sheep. So she hunted carefully
with Ian, looking for victims who would not miss what was taken from them.

As the weather turned warm again, Carissa sighed with relief. Now she sat back in her carriage contemplating
just how she and Reesha would spend the night. As much as Carissa loved Ryan, she cherished her time with

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Reesha even more, perhaps because she knew how limited it was. She had obliquely offered Reesha the option
of becoming a vampire, but Reesha had ignored the offer. This woman was of warmth and light, and to change
her would be to destroy her. Carissa sighed and smiled knowing that she would just have to savor her lover
while she had her.

Carissa ran up the stairs to Reesha's flat full of news about the law that had been passed that would give
financial support to the orphanages Carissa had helped found. She was full of plans she wanted to share with
Reesha, and she barely noticed that the door was not locked when she swept into the apartment calling Reesha's
name. It was the smell of blood that brought Carissa up short.

The scent was old and tasted bitter in Carissa's throat. Carissa stopped and let her senses roam the rooms. She
had been here only two nights before, a precious stolen evening she had spent with Reesha when the singer
took a rare night off. Ryan had gone away on business, and Reesha was as hungry for more time with her lover
as Carissa was. Carissa could tell there was nothing living in the rooms now. Part of her knew already, but she
could not bring herself to believe. Her legs shook, and she could not seem to think beyond the denial. She
moved almost in a trance, opening the door to the bedroom with her fingertips. Her eyes turned to the bed, but
it took several moments for them to focus on what she saw.

Reesha lay naked on the blood-soaked bed, the bruises livid on her skin. She had been beaten long and hard,
raped, and her throat was slashed. For once, none of Carissa's training helped. The killer could have been
standing behind the door, and Carissa would not have cared. Her knees gave out and she sank to the floor
sobbing. It was as if a knife had been twisted in her gut. The pain was almost physical. She knelt at the side of
the bed, her face pressed against Reesha's lifeless body.

Timothy was surprised to see Carissa come out of Reesha's apartment so soon. Usually she did not return till an
hour before dawn, but it had been only three hours since she had gone up to see Reesha. Timothy had become
a regular in the pub and had just finished his dinner and been invited to play in a game of darts. Now he made
his apologies and went out to meet Carissa.

"Is everything all right, m'lady?" He asked anxiously, noting the expression on Carissa's face.

"Take me to Charlotte Square," Carissa said as she climbed into the carriage.

"But m'lady—"

"I don't care what Ryan has told you. If you won't take me, I will take a hansom."

"Y… yes, m'lady." Timothy closed the door and climbed up onto the driver's seat. He considered turning the
carriage for home, but Lord Wolf was away, and Carissa could hardly be kept prisoner in the house until the
master could return. Timothy had never seen Carissa look like she did now. Not even when she had been
horribly wounded did she look so dead. Her voice was calm, but her eyes looked so empty. Timothy's
allegiance was firmly with his mistress, but if something had happened to Reesha, he knew Carissa would be no
match for Alyssa and her court. He cursed under his breath as he drove the carriage toward Edinburgh.

In the hours that Carissa had spent next to Reesha's body she had gone from guilt to anger to hatred. Anything
was better than the deep pain that left her burning with guilt. She would have her revenge, no matter what the
price. If Alyssa destroyed her, at least she would not fall back into the abyss of guilt and the knowledge that
Reesha would still be alive if Carissa had not loved her. Carissa did not care that she might be walking into the

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very trap Alyssa had set for her. She was beyond any sort of rational thought. During the seemingly endless
drive to the Charlotte Square house, Carissa made her mind blank. She did not plan. She did not think. And,
most important, she did not remember.

Carissa stepped out of the carriage and thanked Timothy. She asked him to wait until dawn, and if she did not
return by then, she told him to go back to Wolf Manor. Her voice was calm, but she was completely deaf to
Timothy's pleas.

The house was lit, and Carissa realized that the queen was entertaining. The door opened before she knocked,
and the butler looked shocked to see a woman unescorted and dressed in an almost plain dress.

"Madam," he asked grasping at his aplomb, "may I see your invitation?"

"I am here to see Alyssa. Tell her I will wait for her in the garden."

The butler tried to stop Carissa, but her strength had grown in the past months. She pushed him aside almost
gently and slipped into the house. Rather than make a scene, the butler decided it was better to report the
intrusion to his mistress. She would know how to deal with the madwoman.

Carissa sat in a sheltered spot. She was shivering now, but not with cold. The rage and pain seemed to be
waging a battle, and her whole body spasmed. All she could see now was Reesha's dead body. All she could
smell was the copper scent of old blood. She wasn't aware when Alyssa came storming out into the garden.

Alyssa stopped short and looked at the woman who had crashed her party. She had met Carissa only once
before, but from all that she knew of the woman, she had not expected such behavior from her. Now she could
see the swirl of Carissa's blood telegraphing her emotional turbulence to Alyssa's senses. Alyssa took a
deliberate breath and approached cautiously.

"What is wrong, Carissa?"

"You gave your word!" Carissa hissed. The words sounded as if they had been torn from her heart.

"About what? What has happened? Ryan?" Alyssa chilled with the thought that Ryan had somehow been
unmade.

"You said… you promised that Reesha would not be harmed. That Alyssa sighed with relief and regret. She
pushed aside her guilt and sat next to Carissa, taking her hands into her own. "Reesha is dead?"

"Yes… You told me to be careful where I put my trust," Carissa said bitterly. "Now I see what a fool I was to
trust your promise."

"Carissa, I did not order any of my people to harm Reesha, and given how much they respect Ryan, I seriously
doubt any of them killed her on their own. I will investigate, if you like, but I truly do not believe any of them
could have been so stupid. They know Ryan would flay them."

"Not Ryan, me. Reesha was mine. I will have blood for her blood. If not one of yours, then who? Who killed
her?"

Alyssa could see some of the madness leaving Carissa's eyes. This was a formidable young woman, and Alyssa

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did not doubt she would challenge anyone in her court, Alyssa included, if one of them had killed her human
lover. "I don't know, but think Carissa, how did she die?"

"She… she was beaten… raped… her throat cut." The words came out through Carissa's chattering teeth.
Alyssa slipped her arm around Carissa's shoulders, hugging her tight.

"You know this is not how a vampire kills, not even a sadistic one."

"Are you telling me that a vampire could not kill her in that way to hide his tracks? Ryan warned me that you
might try to use Reesha to weaken me. Are you telling me that you could not have done this because her throat
was slit?"

"No, a powerful vampire could have killed her like that, but why would he have? What pleasure would it give?"

Carissa looked confused.

"Carissa, a sadistic vampire kills for pleasure. He might have beaten her, might even have raped her rather than
seduced her, but it would have been to taint her blood. Do you know how fear makes blood taste? What kind of
vampire would have gone through all that trouble and not drunk her blood?"

Carissa looked into Alyssa's eyes, knowing that she was making herself more vulnerable but needing to read
the truth there. "If he had wanted to put me off the track, he could have refrained…"

"I don't know of anyone short of Ryan herself who has that kind of control. And it did not put you off the track,
did it? Your first reaction was that it was one of my followers. Carissa, I am not saying that I would not use you
against Ryan if I felt threatened, but what has Ryan done to threaten me these past months? I may have
overreacted to her return here with you, but that was more than a year ago. Why would I attack her now?"

"Because she is away, and I am vulnerable?" Carissa asked herself more then Alyssa. "No, it would destroy the
status quo, and you cannot afford to do that anymore than Ryan can."

Alyssa nodded her agreement. Carissa could not know that Alyssa had already done much more to destroy the
status quo, but she wished now that she had not gone down that path. If Ryan survived the coming conflict,
then Alyssa was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. If Ryan lost, then Alyssa would be indebted
to a man whom she feared even more than Ryan. She had been very stupid, but all she could do now was wait
and see how it ended, and in the meantime, it would not hurt her to make a friend of Carissa.

"If you like, I will make inquiries among all of my people. As I said, I do not think they are responsible, but they
might be able to discover who was. Was anything stolen from Reesha's apartment? Could it have been a thief?"

"A thief would have waited until Reesha was working. The flat is generally empty six nights a week. Any thief
with sense would have known that." Carissa sat and thought. Now she was looking at the picture analytically.
"There were signs of a struggle, but I didn't notice anything missing. Her jewelry box was still on her dressing
table, and the box itself is valuable."

"Not a thief then. A rejected lover? Some man who wanted her that she refused? Would McKay know if she
had enemies like that?"

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"I will ask him. Alyssa, I'm sorry I stormed in here, accusing you. I was distraught."

"Ryan has taught you to see me as the enemy. I do understand, Carissa, and I forgive you. I might have done
the same if someone I cared for was killed in this way. I am sorry for your loss. I can see she was more than a
pet to you."

"Do you think it is foolish to love someone human?" Carissa sounded exhausted now. When Alyssa tightened
her arm around her, she leaned on her for support.

"Yes, but that is experience speaking. I have loved humans before. Some of them I made into vampires; others
died. In either case, it always seems to end in pain. Carissa, go home now and rest. I will make some inquires
tonight, and tomorrow, I will tell you what I have discovered."

"Thank you." Carissa turned her face away sobbing. "I can't help thinking that I killed her. That if I had not
become her lover, she would still be alive."

Alyssa took Carissa's chin in her hand and turned her face so she could look in the grieving woman's eyes. "I
suspect you gave Reesha great joy, my dear. Even if your being her lover somehow caused her death, I don't
think she would accuse you now. You didn't use her, as most of our kind would have. You truly loved her, and
that was the most precious gift of all."

"Are you saying the love of a vampire is somehow worth more than that of a human?"

"Isn't it? Human love can be very beautiful, very precious, but tell me, why did you become Ryan's lover? Oh, I
have no doubt she seduced you at first, but would you have exchanged that for the love of a mortal?"

"No."

"I imagine Reesha felt herself blessed to be loved by you. Don't diminish that now by taking on her death. Only
one person is responsible for that. Tomorrow we will find out who that person is."

Carissa took a deep breath and calmed herself. "I… I'll leave you to your party now. Shall I come here
tomorrow to see what you have found?"

"No, why don't I send Edmund to you?"

"Ask him to meet me at the tavern near Reesha's home. I will want to begin investigating a soon as I can."

Alyssa smiled at the adroit way Carissa managed to keep from inviting another vampire into Wolf Manor. For
that matter, Alyssa wondered, how did Carissa manage to enter her own home that night? She would have to
see to her defenses. If Ryan were destroyed, Alyssa suspected that Carissa would make a formidable enemy.
The thought saddened her, for she found herself liking this woman more and more. Alyssa chided herself at the
thought that they might actually be able to be friends. Then she smiled at Carissa and escorted her to the door.

Timothy breathed a sigh of relief when saw Carissa leave the house. He was there to open the door of the
carriage for her in a flash.

"Are we going home now, m'lady?" he asked hopefully.

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"No, take me to Master McKay's. I need to talk to him first."

Timothy sighed and acknowledged her command. This time, the trip seemed too short. Carissa tried to think of
the words to tell Ian that his dear friend was dead. Memories kept ambushing her: of the first night they spent
listening to music in Master McKay's studio, of Reesha's laughter, of her touch. Carissa wished she could get
drunk to numb the pain. Now that her rage had faded into the dull ache of its own, all she could think of was
her lover's smoky voice that always reached into her core, of the way their eyes would meet when Reesha
performed, and the wordless messages they passed to each other.

Superimposed over it all was the sight of Reesha's mutilated body. Carissa had covered her with a blanket, but
she would never forget the sight or the scent of her death.

It was well past midnight now, and the music master's house was completely quiet. Carissa looked around as if
she did not quite know where she was. She sat wordlessly on the sofa, but in her mind, she saw the old couch
that had sagged so badly in the middle.

"Where is Clywd?" Carissa asked in a voice that had gone empty again.

McKay looked at her with concern and sat on a chair nearby. "He is playing at a party tonight. One of your
friends hired him. I'm surprised you weren't invited."

"I probably was," Carissa said absentmindedly, "but Sundays I reserve for Reesha."

Noe Carissa looked up at Ian. He saw the words in her eyes that she could not speak. Ian closed his eyes, feeling
the sadness washing over him.

"What happened?" he asked, knowing it would only hurt more.

"She was killed." Carissa held back the details to spare him.

"A thief?"

"No, nothing was taken. Ian, do you know of any enemies she had? A rejected suitor perhaps? Anyone who
would hate her enough to… to beat her first and then kill her?"

"It has been a long time since she has taken any man to her bed. She… she never liked selling herself like that.
Until she met you, the women she slept with were just flirtations, not serious on either side. She truly loved you,
Carissa."

"I know," Carissa sobbed. "She gave me her heart, and I…"

McKay moved over to the couch, putting his arms around Carissa. They held each other for several minutes,
sharing grief and love.

"I will talk to Corwin, the music hall owner. He will know if there has been anyone recently. If there had been
something stolen, I would have suggested her brother, but he wouldn't have left anything of value behind."

"Her brother? But she took care of him, gave him the money to begin his shop."

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"Aye, I know that, and he resented her all his life. He never approved of her singing in the halls. Called her a
tart and harlot."

"If she was, it was to feed him and his sister."

"I know, but gratitude can gall like a pebble in your shoe. It is there all the time, and all you can do is move the
stone around so that it rubs in a different place."

"Well, you can take the shoe off and throw the bloody stone out." Carissa said with asperity.

Ian smiled weakly. "You're not going to leave this for the police, are you, my dear?"

"No. Would you?"

"No. Carissa, I want to help. She was… she was like a daughter to me. I'll talk to Corwin tomorrow evening,
and I'll contact Reesha's brother."

"All right, but don't do anything without me, Ian. This is my business," Carissa warned in a soft voice.

"Carissa, you… you shouldn't—-"

"You said Ryan was possessive of her people. You know what she would do. Reesha was mine. Not because I
owned her in any way, but because she gave me her heart. She was mine, and I will have blood for her blood. I
don't care anymore for what is right or wrong. Let God judge me as He will, but I will have her killer. Do you
understand?"

"Yes, yes. I understand. I loved her long before you knew her. I only ask to be part of this."

"Granted." Carissa stood abruptly. She left without another word.

Long after dawn, Carissa sat in her bedroom. She knew she could not sleep. She wished she could cry. It felt as
though the grief was filling her, and if she did not find a way to release it, the pressure of it would drive her
mad. If only she could cry, then the tears could wash away some of the pain, the guilt, but her eyes were dry,
and the pressure continued to build. It was a relief when the knock came on her door some hours after dawn.

"Yes, what is it, Greger?" she asked before the door had even opened. She had learned the trick of recognizing a
human by the pattern of his or her blood.

"Inspector Cavendish is here to see you, m'lady. I told him you were not well, but he insisted."

"What time is it?"

"It is just after eight in the morning, m'lady."

"The inspector must have had an early start. Show him to my sitting room, and tell him I will be in in a
moment. Have Cook send up some tea, please, and ask Nora to come in."

"Yes, m'lady. If there is any other way I can help?"

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"No, that will be all, Greger."

Nora came in a few minutes later and helped Carissa dress in a deep purple gown. It was not really appropriate
for the day, but it was the closest thing to mourning Carissa possessed. Nora didn't say anything, but her
presence seemed to help. Carissa gave her a brief hug before she went into the sitting room.

"Ahh, good, I am glad you helped yourself to the tea, Inspector." Carissa felt brittle with grief and strain, and
her attempt to sound normal echoed like shards of glass falling in a discordant heap.

Inspector Cavendish rose, a bit embarrassed. Some excellent scones had been served with the tea, and he had
been up since before midnight investigating the murder of a music hall singer. It was only when his assistant
had discovered some documents among the murdered woman's papers that Cavendish discovered her
connection with Lady Wolf.

"Good morning, my lady. I am sorry to disturb you when you are unwell."

"It's quite all right, Inspector. I am sure you would not be here unless it was a matter of some importance."
Carissa sat and waved the inspector back into the chair he had vacated.

"I suspect you know why I am here, my lady."

"Reesha…"

"Why did you not report her death when you found her last night?" This was a guess on the inspector's part,
but he had seen enough grief-stricken women in his time to know why her ladyship looked sleepless this
morning.

"I… I could not seem to think. I didn't know what to do."

"What did you do when you found her?"

"I… my legs couldn't seem to hold me. I… I think perhaps 1 fainted, Inspector, and then when I woke, I just
knelt by her for some time."

"Did you touch anything, move anything in her apartment?"

"No. After a time, I just left. I couldn't think of what to do."

"Did you come directly home, m'lady?"

Carissa thought quickly. The servants would lie for her, but she did not want to get them into trouble. "No, I…
Ryan isn't here, and I needed… I needed someone to talk to."

"To whom did you go?"

"A mutual friend. Master McKay."

"Yes, I know him. He does some good work with children, teaching them. I was not aware that you or Miss
Armands knew him."

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"Reesha has studied with him on and off for years. She introduced me to him, and when I learned about the
children he takes in and cares for, I began helping him, not so much financially, but with clothing and furniture
for the children, a few books, that sort of thing."

"Yes, my lady, I am aware of the charitable work you and your friends are engaged in. It is very commendable
work." The inspector sighed. He truly did admire Lady Wolf for her work, and it would be a shame if he had to
ruin her now. If she were connected in any way to her singer's death, then she would be shunned by society,
and all of her work might be undone.

"Thank you, Inspector. I am curious as to how you discovered my connection to Reesha."

"We went through her papers, my lady. She has amassed a small fortune over the last year, and from all
indications, the money came from Lord Wolf."

Carissa took a deep breath. She needed all her wits, she realized. "Yes, Reesha has begun investing in some of
Ryan's interests. Her investments are paying off very nicely." Carissa wondered if the inspector thought Reesha
was blackmailing her or Ryan.

"It is generous of his lordship to help Miss Armands with her investments."

"Ryan tends to be very generous to his friends."

Inspector Cavendish looked into Carissa's eyes. "But you were Miss Armands' friend, were you not, my lady? It
was you who visited her weekly for the past year. Would you care to tell me just what your relationship was
with a music hall singer?"

"No, Inspector."

"I beg your pardon, my lady?" the inspector asked in genuine confusion.

"No, I would not care to tell you what my relationship with Reesha was. It is not any of your business."

"My lady, she was murdered."

"I am well aware of that, Inspector, and I hope you catch her murderer so he can be hanged."

Inspector Cavendish's eyebrows rose at Carissa's somewhat vindictive reply. "Were you aware that Reesha
mentioned you in her will?"

Carissa looked surprised. "No, I wasn't. I assumed she would leave whatever money she had to her sister and
brother. Certainly you are not suggesting that I killed her for her money, Inspector?"

"No, my lady. In fact, she leaves all her money to your orphanages."

"Oh." Carissa closed her eyes against the sudden stab of grief.

"My lady, you are named the executrix of Miss Armands' will. From all the evidence, you had a very close
relationship with her."

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"Am I a suspect, Inspector? Do you think I murdered her?"

"No. It would have been physically impossible for you to do to her what… what was done." Carissa realized
that the inspector was referring to the rape.

"Then my relationship to Reesha is none of your or anyone else's business."

"Even if it is the motive for the murder, my lady? Was Lord Wolf aware of your… your friendship with Miss
Armands?"

"Yes, he was. Ryan would not have arranged those investments had he not been." It was only after she spoke
those words that Carissa realized how they sounded. She had just given Ryan a good motive for killing Reesha,
if Ryan had been a normal husband. Carissa knew she could not undo the damage.

"Ryan understood my… my friendship with Reesha. Ryan has his own pursuits, and neither of us feel that these
pursuits are cause for jealousy, Inspector."

"I see," the inspector said deliberately. "Where is your husband now, Lady Wolf?"

"He is away on business. He went to Leith on Wednesday. I visited Reesha Thursday night. That was the last
time I saw her alive. When I went back last night… I know enough about… about death to know she had been
dead for some time. Ryan was not in town when she died. By Sunday, he should have been in Inverness. If you
wish to know more about Ryan's movements, you can inquire at his office. They have his entire itinerary and
can give you the details of where Ryan is staying while he is away."

"Thank you, my lady. I will make inquiries with them."

"If there is nothing more, Inspector?"

"Not at the moment, but I do wish to question your coachman."

"By all means. I will have Greger take you to him. Good day, Inspector."

"Good day, my lady." Cavendish bowed as Carissa left the room. He truly did admire her, even if he could not
understand her. Perhaps it was Lord Wolf himself who had led her to such depraved behavior, if that indeed
was the nature of her relationship with the singer. It would all come out in court. The inspector sighed. Well, he
might yet be wrong. He would keep an open mind and be as discreet as possible, but people would talk. They
always did, and Lord Wolf's reputation had never been sterling.

Carissa went back to her room cursing the daylight. She could not do anything until the sun set. She would
send Greger into town to wire a warning to Ryan, but she chaffed with impatience. Now it was a race between
her and the inspector. Who would catch the killer first? She respected her adversary enough to know that even
if he would not be completely blinded by suspicion for Ryan, at least he would waste some time with his
inquiries into Ryan's movements. That might give Carissa the time she needed to find the killer first. She never
once considered letting the law take its course. Reesha had been hers. Her murderer's death would be hers as
well.

18

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Grave, Where Is Thy Victory?

The tavern was full that night, and everyone seemed to be whispering about Reesha's death. Carissa sharpened
her senses to hear what was said. The speculation about Reesha's love life hurt like the bite of a small animal
tearing at her flesh, yet she endured because she had to know what had been seen. Finally, off in a corner, she
heard four men speculating as to the identity of the visitor Reesha had the night before she was found dead. The
description was vague, but it was a starting place: a man, neither tall nor short, of a slight build, and very well
dressed. He had dark hair and carried a stick, and he had appeared on foot around six o'clock. Reesha had just
been getting ready to leave for the music hall, Carissa realized. Carissa also realized that the description could
fit Ryan well enough.

Trisk and McKay arrived almost at the same time. They looked at each other in mutual distrust, but Carissa
signaled them both to sit and introduced them to each other. She almost smiled at the way they vied for her
attention. She knew it was more protectiveness on Ian's part, and it touched her to know he cared for her so.

"Tell me what you have discovered. You first, Ian."

"I talked to Corwin. He was Reesha's boss," Ian filled in for Trisk. "There were always men asking about
Reesha's availability. Most of them older gentlemen these days. In the past month, there were three men, one of
whom was particularly persistent."

"What is his name?"

"Gerald Macmillan. He is wealthy. Lives in Edinburgh. I could find out more about him," Ian offered.

"That's fine, Ian. I've met him socially. It's his wife who has the money. He's a charming man, not overburdened
with brains." Trisk covered a smile at the description. "I doubt he is the one."

"Why do you say that?" Ian asked.

"Because I heard some of the locals discussing the case. They said Reesha had a visitor the night she died. A
dark, slightly built man." Carissa completed the description she had overheard. "Gerald Macmillan has white
hair, and although handsome enough, no one would ever call him slightly built. What about Reesha's brother?
What does he look like?"

"Thin as a rail and the same dark coloring as Reesha."

"Did you talk to him, Ian?"

"Aye. The police had already been to see him today. He's more than a bit scared but is sniffing around to see
what he will get from his sister's death." Ian spoke with open disgust. "He claims he was working in his shop
when Reesha died."

"How did he know when Reesha died?" Trisk asked, entering the conversation.

"The police told him what day, if not what time. He says he was in his shop from eight in the morning until ten
that night. It's possible he was. The man does work hard enough, and working late keeps him away from his

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wife."

"Does he have an alibi?" Trisk seemed to be enjoying playing detective. He was a fan of Edgar Allan Poe and
enjoyed reading such stories as The Murders in the Rue Morgue. Now he felt his reading gave him an edge in
investigating the singer's death.

"An alibi? You mean, was someone with him? He claims his assistant was there with him all day, but he wasn't
there tonight when I called."

"The police will no doubt question the assistant, Ian. They may have already, and I suspect that if he had not
confirmed Reesha's brother's story her brother would have been taken in for questioning already."

"Yes, but who's to say that man didn't lie for his employer?"

"Why should he?" Trisk asked, surprised.

"Because he would be out of a job if his boss went to jail, and there are rumors that the two men do more in that
shop than just sew clothing. But if Reesha's murderer is a toff, then her brother is out of it. He is none too poor,
but he couldn't afford to dress like a gentleman."

"Ian, he makes suits for gentlemen, doesn't he? He could always borrow one of those suits for an evening."
Carissa thought for a moment. "Did you smell blood in his shop? From the way Reesha was killed, I think it
would be hard for the killer not to have gotten blood on himself."

"No, there was no scent of blood. But again, the police would have searched both his house and his shop. If they
found blood-stained clothing, they would have arrested him."

Carissa nodded. "We will keep him in mind, but he does not seem to be too likely a suspect. He doesn't even
benefit from her death."

"How do you know that?" Trisk asked.

"Inspector Cavendish told me that Reesha left all of her money to my orphanages."

"Yes, but does her brother know that? Suppose he came to her, maybe asking for money, and she refused him?
Perhaps he killed her, thinking he would get the money that way. Or maybe she told him he was not getting
anything in her will, and he killed her in a rage." Trisk gained enthusiasm as he theorized. "He could always
get rid of the suit. Dumping it in the Water of Leith would be the easiest way—"

Carissa held up her hand. "Would a man rape his own sister if he was killing her for profit? Or even out of
rage? Especially if the man was not interested in women?"

"Carissa, it is possible that he would, but I agree, it is not so likely," McKay answered tiredly. "Are there any
other suspects or leads?"

"I hate to say it, but there is Ryan," Trisk offered, looking at Carissa out of the corner of his eye. This was the
seed he was sent to plant in Carissa's mind. If she could be made to suspect Ryan, even a little bit, then it would
undermine some of Ryan's power.

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"Ryan is Inspector Cavendish's chief suspect, but I am sure that she has an ironclad alibi in Inverness for that
night." Carissa answered.

"I'm sure Lord Wolf does," Ian said carefully, "but does that mean it is impossible that she did not kill Reesha?"
Trisk cheered inwardly. There appeared to be no love lost between the music master and Ryan. That would
please Alyssa greatly.

"Ryan did not, would not, have killed her. Why should she? She was the one who encouraged me to become
involved with Reesha in the first place." Carissa's voice was devoid of emotion, and Trisk could not tell if she was
masking anger or doubt, or if she just had no energy to react emotionally.

"Carissa, she may have encouraged you, but did she expect you to fall in love with Reesha? Jealousy can be
very corroding, very insidious, my dear." Ian was looking at Carissa with concern. He truly did not want it to
be Ryan because Carissa would be hurt so badly if that turned out to be the case, but he could not find it in
himself to trust Ryan.

"Ian, you have said Ryan is arrogant, and she is. Quite frankly, she would never consider a mortal a rival. Ryan
and I will have centuries to love each other. Reesha," and now there was emotion in Carissa's voice, "Reesha was
like a cheery blossom, to be cherished while she lived, and remembered with…" Carissa looked away not able
to voice the feelings that flooded her with sudden pain. "I will not think of it. I will not remember," she told
herself resolutely. She took several deep breaths and stilled herself until her heart stopped fluttering in her chest.
Then she turned to Trisk.

"What news have you found out?"

"Alyssa has an agent in the coroner's office. The autopsy was done today, and it shows that Reesha was severely
beaten with a cane before she was killed." Trisk kept his voice clinical, knowing that both his listeners cared for
the dead woman. It was not so much kindness on his part as the knowledge that he was on their territory and
the two of them together could damage him badly. "What is more, the killer left his cane behind. The police are
trying to trace it now."

"Do you have a description of it?" For a moment, Carissa wondered if she had left her own walking stick
behind, but that was silly. She had it here with her now.

"Yes, it's an ash cane with a steel foot and a silver head."

"Well, no vampire carried that cane. Were there any distinctive markings on it? Was the head just a knob? Or
was it cast in some form?"

"It's cast in the form of a running fox, and the eyes are yellow diamonds: an expensive piece of work. It is
engraved with the initials S. H. C. I imagine the inspector is looking all over Edinburgh and Cramond for some
man with those initials."

"He won't find him that way. The initials are for Sheffield Hunt Club."

"You know the cane?"

"Yes, and the man who carried it. Edmund, thank you for your help."

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"Carissa—"

"This is my business now, Edmund. Thank Alyssa for her help as well, and tell her that I will do my best to
resolve this outside of her territory. Good night, Edmund." Carissa rose abruptly and left the tavern. McKay
followed her, and when she climbed into her carriage, he climbed in behind her.

"You are not getting rid of me so easily."

"I didn't intend to, Ian. Timothy, please take me to the nearest telegraph office." Timothy acknowledged the
order, happy to be sent to such a benign place.

"Ian, where can I find a listing of all of the hotels in Edinburgh?"

"Do you need to know all of them? Or just the ones where a toff would stay?"

"You're right, he would not stay in a cheap inn or boarding house."

"Who?"

"John McDermott. My parents were trying to force me to marry him when I ran off with Ryan."

"And he's come after you now? He must have cared for you very much."

"More likely he cares for my inheritance," Carissa snorted. "He's the son of my father's partner, and if we
marry, the whole firm will be his one day."

"But why would he kill Reesha?"

"I don't know. He must have seen me with her, but I don't understand why he would kill her."

"Carissa, perhaps he didn't."

"Then why was his cane in her apartment?"

"I don't know, but you can't just kill him without more proof. You would never forgive yourself if you were
wrong."

"Then I will ask him before I kill him. Now the hotels, what are they?"

Ian sighed and began dictating a list of the best hotels in Edinburgh. The list was not too long. Carissa insisted
on going into the telegraph office alone, and she sent the same message to each hotel. She came back out in just
a few minutes.

"Now what?" Ian asked.

"Now we wait."

"I need to hunt," Ian said.

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"Timothy will let you off then."

"Carissa, you won't do anything without me?"

Carissa looked in Ian's eyes. There was no softness in her now, no mercy. "You have done your part, Ian. The
rest is mine to complete."

"Carissa—"

"You can let Master McKay off here, Timothy." The carriage rolled to a stop, but Ian resisted getting out. He
looked at Carissa imploringly, but when it came to a test of wills, hers was stronger. Her will had always been
stronger, and with Ryan's training, she could have easily suborned Ian completely. Instead, she simply sat,
returning his look until he lowered his eyes. He might be called "master," but in this she would always be his
superior. He got out of the carriage without another word and stood watching it disappear into the foggy night.

Carissa was too restless to wait indoors. She wrapped her shawl tighter and took off for a walk along the cliff
path. The moon was half full, and the night was still cold. The grass and the trees were all blooming with new
life, and the light of the moon made the fresh growth glow a silvery green. The air smelled fresh and clean, and
the few clouds scudding across the sky ran before the wind like the chariot of Artemis. Carissa saw it all, yet it
did not touch her. Her mind was filled with darkness. To become one with the night, one had to embrace the
darkness and welcome it inside. Carissa looked away from the light, and for the first time, she became a wisp of
shadow. Now she understood the darkness in her own soul. Now she understood the seductiveness of the power
of life and death. The darkness held her and comforted her. It drove away all the memories, and the pain of
Reesha's death was finally dulled until all that was left was a single drop, like the drop of blood the first time
Carissa had fed from her lover. Like the drop of dew that was Reesha's life. Then that too was lost as Carissa
turned her thoughts to death.

Carissa never knew how she came to be in her chamber just moments before dawn. Some spark of self-
preservation seemed to lead her to safety, and she still had just enough sanity left to think perhaps it would
have been better if she had been burned clean by the sun. Carissa sat at the dressing table while Nora brushed
her hair. Her eyes were blank, and she didn't speak a word. She allowed Nora to put her to bed, but she knew
she would not sleep. She did not see the look of concern Nora gave her before she blew out the candle and
closed the door. The last bit of light seemed to flee under the doorjamb as if it could not exist in the same space
with the blackness that was Carissa.

Part of Carissa kept track of the movement of the sun, willing it to fall from the sky quickly. She prayed that
the answer to her telegram would come today. She was not sure if she could endure another night of such
blackness, and when the light began to slip back into her soul, she drove it away with memories of Reesha's
mutilated body. She imagined how each blow fell, how each indignity was inflicted. She welcomed the pain
and let it stoke her rage. Deliberately, she roused her demon, feeding it the memory of the blood shed so
wastefully. She could feel the power thrumming along her nerves. At that moment, she felt that not even the
bright sun could touch her, so filled with black rage was her mind.

Carissa rose, unable to stand the stillness anymore. She dressed with trembling fingers. She did not even see
what she wore. It was the same gown she had worn the first time she met Reesha. The red dress with its black
petticoats looked almost obscene, but it was not the flesh it revealed that made it so. It was the contrast between
the dress's flashy gayety and the lifeless woman who wore it.

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It was still well before sunset when Carissa made her way down the stairs. Ryan's staff was used to the unusual
hours of their master. The servants arranged their lives to suit Ryan's, but they had the relative luxury of a
master who did not care what was done when as long as it was done. The house seemed deserted when Carissa
came into the hall. None of the staff would be around this time of day. Carissa found the telegrams on the hall
table. She went into Ryan's study and lit the gaslights. Two of the telegrams were from hotels that had politely
written to tell Lady Wolf that no John McDermott was staying with them at that time. Carissa made a mental
note to write and thank them for their response. The third telegraph was from McDermott himself. He would
meet her, as she asked. Tonight.

Carissa closed her eyes, feeling her body shudder with tension. For the first time since discovering Reesha's
body, she actually drifted into sleep for a few hours, but when the sun set, her internal clock woke her. She felt
lethargic, but she rose and stretched. McDermott agreed to meet her at a lonely inn on the outskirts of
Cramond. She would have preferred to meet him here, at the house, but she did not want to involve the
servants. She still had an hour until the meeting time. Now she was concerned about her appearance. She went
back to her room and summoned Nora to help her with her hair. She would not wear a disguise, but no one
would associate Lady Wolf with a woman dressed as she was. Not that it mattered too much, for she would not
kill McDermott at the inn.

Carissa ordered one of the riding horses saddled. It was bit skittish around her, but accustomed as it was to
Ryan, it did not fight her when she mounted. Timothy begged to go with her, but she simply shook her head in
refusal. She touched her heels to the horse's flank, and it shot out of the gate like an arrow. How she had missed
this. She rode leaning low over the horse's neck. It did not respond to her as Nightshade had once, but the
exhilaration of speed, the sensation of the muscles bunching beneath her thighs gave her a feeling of savage joy.
Now she was truly the hunter racing to meet her prey.

Carissa left the horse tethered some distance from the inn. She drew her cloak tight around her, the hood
shadowing her face. The walk would have been pleasant, but Carissa closed her mind to the fineness of the
night. It should be storming, she thought. The heavens should be raging that this man, this beast still walks the
world. Revenge should be of lightning and thunder, not of a soft spring breeze and the smell of freshly mown
grass. At least the inn itself looked dark and sinister enough to be featured in one of the penny dreadfuls that
Nora loved to read.

Carissa slipped inside, moving like the shadow she had become. There were no other working girls in the inn. It
was not that sort of place, catering as it did to the farmers who lived close by. She found a dark corner in which
to wait and bided her time thinking of how it would feel to smash McDermott's bones as he had smashed
Reesha's body.

Carissa watched John McDermott walk into the inn. He hadn't changed much from the arrogant man she had
known most of her life. He liked to dress in the height of fashion, but somehow, his clothing always looked a bit
off, too flashy for the places he frequented. Tonight he was dressed in evening wear, which he knew displayed
his slim figure to the best advantage, yet it was as inappropriate to a country inn as if he had worn a bishop's
robe. The locals took one look at him and turned their backs and lowered their voices. The scorn in his own
tones was evident as he ordered a drink. Nothing in this place could be up to his standards, his voice said.
Carissa waited until he had been served, and then she took off the hood of her cloak and let the garment fall
open. It was as if the curtains had been opened on a play. The locals hadn't even noticed her before, but now
they looked first at McDermott and then at Carissa, and they made their minds up all at once: some toff
meeting a tart. There was some grumbling as McDermott sat at Carissa's table, but then the locals turned away

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shrugging their shoulders. Only the innkeeper looked a moment longer, his disapproval very plain on his face.
Carissa smiled, knowing that he would rather die than let them a room in his establishment.

"Did you have to dress like that?" The disapproval was strong in McDermott's voice.

"How else should I dress? Isn't this how you see me?"

"I didn't come here to argue."

"Why did you come here?"

"To take you home. You've led me on a merry chase. First Paris, and then Geneva. Then your father tells me
you are in Edinburgh. Did Wolf tire of you and throw you out? Is that why you had to sell your jewelry? Or
did she want the money for herself?"

"I sold the jewelry because it was rather hideous, not that it is any of your business."

"And now you sell yourself?" McDermott looked Carissa over with scorn, yet there was lust in his eyes as well.
Carissa knew just how much more attracted he was to her as she was dressed now than in the fashionable
gowns he was used to seeing her wear. It disgusted her to smell his arousal, yet it gave her a feeling of power as
well. He wanted her, and for more then just her money. It would make it that much easier to lead him.

"You never had the coin to pay for me, John, and you never will." The flush of anger made Carissa laugh, and
McDermott moved to grab her arm. The locals turned to stare a moment, and their gazes were both curious
and condemning.

"Let's go somewhere more private," Carissa said. She rose without waiting for an answer, and as she pulled her
cloak around her, it was as if the curtain had gone down on the play. She slipped out of the door before
McDermott was even sure of her intent, and when he scrambled to come after her, the laughter of the locals
followed him into the night. It made him angrier when he heard someone comment that the toff couldn't even
keep the paid tart happy.

Outside, Carissa waited a few paces down the road. She could see the dark bulk of the town behind the inn,
and she led McDermott farther from it step by step. He couldn't quite catch her, so he began running, calling
her name. The sound was carried away on the wind, and soon he was lost among the footpaths that led toward
the cliffs. Carissa moved silently, almost gliding along the ground in her soft-soled shoes. When at last she
stopped, all signs of humanity were lost.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? Stand still, damn you." McDermott called, half winded.

"Is that any language to use in the presence of a lady?"

"You are no lady," McDermott cried angrily.

"Well, technically, I am. Lady Wolf. Ryan and I were married over a year ago now."

"You're lying. Even Wolf wouldn't let you run around dressed like that. Or I suppose that you borrowed that
dress from your maid," McDermott said scornfully.

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"Certainly not. I wouldn't let my maid dress like this."

"Carissa, I don't know what game you are playing at, but you are coming home with me now. We will get
married and never speak of this period in your life again. You know that is what your father wants. I… I will
forgive you this madness, just come home now."

"You will forgive me? Oh, that is rich, John. When you tried to buy me so that you could have it all? You know,
I wasn't really surprised when my mother informed me that you and I were engaged, even if you never had the
manners to actually ask me. You had been yapping around my parents all along, trying to make them see
what a desirable match it was. You knew you could never win me yourself, so you won them over instead. And
now you presume to forgive me? I don't want your forgiveness. I reject it."

McDermott darted forward and grabbed Carissa's arm. "I don't really care what you want, Carissa. You are
mine. I have a doctor waiting in Edinburgh. I've explained the situation, and he will sedate you for the trip
home. Once we are married, well, nothing else will matter."

"Just how do you expect to marry me when I already am married?"

"You are not. You can't be."

"But I am. Check with Somerset House. Our certificate of marriage is riled there."

"That's… that's impossible…"

"I assure you, it is true."

"It can't be!"

"Why not?" Carissa asked in a sweetly reasonable voice guaranteed to drive McDermott over the edge.

"Damn you, Ryan is a woman. How could you possibly be married?"

"Yes, Ryan is a woman, and we are married. Think of the lovely scandal when you try to get it annulled. It
would be rich. All those people talking about how your fiancee ran off to be with a woman because she could
not stomach you." Carissa laughed mockingly. "And I will love telling them all about how afraid you are of
Ryan. How you waited until you knew Ryan was away before you came after me. You did wait, didn't you,
John?"

McDermott screamed with frustration and slapped Carissa hard. He threw her down on the ground, but when
he came after her again, she rolled away from him and was on her feet again. All that was left in his hands was
her cloak.

"Tell me, John. Tell me how you have amused yourself these last two weeks while you bided your time. The
hotel was nice enough to inform me how long you have been in residence. You must have been so bored.
Edinburgh doesn't have much of an assortment of entertainments."

"It took me that long to track you down." McDermott's breathing was harsh, but he was making an effort to
control himself.

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"Really? You could have asked anyone where Wolf Manor is. It is one of the most famous houses in the district.
Lord Wolf is very well known in these parts. Anyone could have directed you."

"I… I wanted a chance to talk to you, to make you see reason. Surely, surely you see how impossible it is for
you to live as her wife? Listen to me, Carissa. I know Ryan has corrupted you, but that can be cured. You are a
normal woman, not a half man like Ryan. You can still have a normal life, the love of a husband, of children.
You just have to see reason. It is an illness, but I can cure you of it. Come now, calm down. I will take you
home. Your mother will take care of you, and we will be married as soon as you feel better."

"You have no idea what I am," Carissa hissed. "Ryan is more of a man than you will ever be, but I love her
because she is a woman. Even if there were no Ryan, there is no man's bed that I would share. I am a lover of
women, and you and no man can cure me of that. It is how I was born. It is how I choose to live. I have no need
for your lies."

"It is Ryan. She has corrupted you. She has taught you this depravity. But I will change that. It is evil. Don't
you understand that, Carissa? This appetite for women she has given you, it is an abomination. You have to
turn from it, or it will be your damnation."

"If I am damned, then it has nothing to do with Ryan. I think…" Carissa stood and thought for a minute. "I
think Ryan might even have saved me from this were she here. But it is too late now. Tell me John, where is
your cane? That cane you were so proud of?"

"My what?"

"Your hunt cane. The one you had specially made after being appointed master of the hunt, was it three, four
years ago now? You never go anywhere without it."

"What nonsense is this? It's back at the hotel. What does it matter anyway?"

"Are you sure? Are you sure you didn't leave it someplace else?"

"Carissa, the damn cane doesn't matter. You matter to me. Nothing else does."

Carissa could scent the fear beginning to emanate from McDermott. She smiled to herself. "But it does matter,
John. Did you know that I was the one to find her body?"

McDermott's breath stopped a moment. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"But you do. You do. You left your cane there. What did it feel like John, to beat her with it?"

"You are crazy. I don't know what you mean."

"You do know. The police have it now, but of course, they don't know what the initials mean. I wonder if they
will be able to trace it? The workmanship is not very common, but Sheffield is a long way from here. They have
a description of you, too, John. I expect they are watching the railways for someone of your description."

McDermott took a step forward again and grasped Carissa by both arms. "Who? To whom have you told this?"

"Why would I tell anyone?" Carissa asked.

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McDermott shook Carissa hard. "Who did you tell?"

"Just a friend. Tell me, John, why did you kill her? Why? Don't I deserve to know that?"

"I… I saw the two of you together. You were laughing at some joke. I saw the way she touched you. Have you
no shame? In public? I knew she had had you…"

"Jealousy?"

McDermott growled and tore at Carissa's dress.

"Ahh, ego then. She had had me, and you never will."

"I will have you. I will have you now."

"I don't think so." Carissa broke McDermott's grasp almost negligently. Her strength had grown over the
winter. Wrestling with Ian's demon, not to mention Ian himself, had been good exercise. Carissa moved before
McDermott could even react. She had her fingers curled in his hair, forcing his head back, but it was not at his
throat that she struck, but at his mind. She caught his gaze and bludgeoned her way passed his guards. She
saw him that night, saw in his mind how he had killed Reesha.

He had asked around about the woman who lived in the apartment to which he had followed Carissa and
Reesha. When he found out that the tenant was a dance hall singer, he assumed she was a whore and could be
bought. He went to her the next night, intending to have her and perhaps to teach her a lesson for touching
Carissa. Reesha came to the door when he knocked, and he flattered her, offered her money, and she refused
him. He grew angry, and told her that Carissa had sent him, that Carissa had recommended her as a good lay,
but Reesha had known better. There was only anger in her eyes when she tried to slam the door shut. He
pushed it in, too strong for her. Now his rage was overwhelming. He drove her back with repeated blows from
his stick. She had screamed, but the neighbors were out, and the walls were too thick for her to be heard in the
street.

Carissa tried to shut out the rest of the memories, but she could not. She relived her lover's death in the mind of
the murderer. When at last the scene finished playing out, both Carissa and McDermott were on their knees.
She wanted to scream, to cry out with the pain of her soul. This was the animal who had destroyed her lover.
She turned on him in rage and found him empty, his mind destroyed by her probing. It wasn't enough. He had
to feel more, feel the same fear, the same pain that Reesha had. But there was nothing left of him but an empty
shell. Carissa screamed. She drew his head back savagely, but even her snarling dragon could not make her
touch this man's blood. She broke his neck with a twist of her powerful hands. Then she dragged his body to
the edge of the cliff and threw him over it. Let the sea take his remains. No hallowed ground should hold
something like him.

Carissa began walking. She felt more tired than she ever had been in her life. She was empty still. She had her
revenge, and it had healed nothing. All it had confirmed was that she was responsible for Reesha's death. She
had always watched for vampire stalkers. It had never occurred to her to watch for a human. She had led him
right to Reesha's home. The irony was that had he been a vampire he could not have entered.

After an hour or two, Carissa remembered that she had a horse. She turned around and went back to where it

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was tethered. Carissa mounted, but she had no energy left. She sat like a stone in the saddle and let the horse
find its own way home. The sun was already over the horizon when the horse trotted into the stable yard.
Carissa's skin was beginning to burn, and the groom snatched her from the saddle, carrying her into the cool
darkness of the stable. Some of the horses began to whinny and stamp, and it was the commotion that alerted
Ryan. The day was overcast enough that she could brave the early morning sun. She ran to the stable and knelt
beside her lover.

There was no passage directly from the stables to the house. Ryan vowed that the oversight would be corrected
as soon as possible. She swaddled Carissa in layers of blankets and then ran for the house. Ryan shouted orders
as she ran up the stairs with Carissa in her arms. She placed her gently on the bed and unwrapped her to
examine the damage. There were blisters all over Carissa's arms, face, and legs. Her dress had been torn, and
one breast exposed, and that was blistered too. Ryan swore loudly as she tore the rest of dress off her beloved.
She took the cool cloths Nora brought her and began laying them over the worst of the burns. Carissa's body
would heal, but Ryan was not so sure of her spirit.

Ryan was sitting, half dozing at the foot of the bed when Carissa woke. "He's dead."

"He? I received your telegram that Reesha was dead, and I came back as soon as I could. I am so sorry, my
beloved."

Ryan moved beside Carissa and lifted her gently in her arms. The burns would hurt, but the need for comfort
was more important than the physical pain.

"Who is dead, my dove?"

"John McDermott. I killed him, Ryan. I murdered him."

"Why?… He killed Reesha." The realization swept over Ryan.

"Yes, he raped her and killed her because he had seen us together. He wanted to punish her for touching me. I
led him right to her doorstep, Ryan. I killed her. I killed them both."

"Beloved… Beloved, you have to tell me what happened last night. Did anyone see you with McDermott?"

"What does it matter, Ryan?"

"Hanging might not kill you, but are you sure you want to experience it?" Ryan asked in a stern voice, hoping
to shake Carissa out of her apathy.

"I killed him by the cliffs near Cramond. I threw his body into the sea. No one saw me, Ryan. No one saw Lady
Wolf."

"Carissa—"

"I'm tired now, so very tired."

Ryan shook Carissa, but she had drifted off to sleep again. It was still daylight, and Ryan cursed that she could
not go out and investigate. She was sure that Inspector Cavendish would come looking for her soon enough,
but Ryan needed to be sure Carissa was safe. She left Carissa's room and called several of her most trusted

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people into her study. They would go along the cliff road to see if any clues had been left behind. If the sea had
taken McDermott, then there would be no telling where he went in, but Ryan did not want to take any chances.
Ryan's own alibi for the night of Reesha's death was solid. All her fear now was for Carissa.

19

In the Beginning

Ryan had waited a nervous three days before Inspector Cavendish had decided to pay her a visit. In that time,
Ryan had completed her own investigation as best she could. The servants had found Carissa's cloak caught on
a bush, but there were no other signs other than a few scuff marks in the loose soil which had been washed
away by a soaking rain the next day. Ryan had gone to McDermott's hotel late the next night. She had planted
some subtle evidence to link McDermott to Reesha's killing. She knew Cavendish was intelligent: too much
evidence and the inspector would become suspicious. McDermott had gotten rid of the blood-spattered clothing
he had worn that night, but Ryan added a few specks of blood to a pair of McDermott's boots. She also left
behind a silver cigarette case engraved with the name Sheffield Hunt Club, just enough evidence for the
inspector to link the cane found at the scene of the murder to McDermott. The case was by no means airtight
against McDermott, but then, an airtight case would look suspicious. Now Ryan welcomed the inspector into
her study with a certain amount of confidence.

"Good evening, Inspector. Please have a seat." Ryan said calmly.

"Good evening, Lord Wolf. I need to speak with your wife if I may."

"I'm afraid that is not possible, Inspector. Carissa is unwell. The shock of finding her friend murdered has not
been easy for her to bear."

"That is understandable, my lord, but the investigation—"

"Is Carissa a suspect in this case, Inspector?" Ryan broke in.

"No, but she may have information that is invaluable to me."

"Why don't you ask me your questions, and if I cannot answer them, then we will disturb her. I am… I am very
worried about her. Certainly you can understand that, Inspector?"

"Very well, my lord, but I will need to speak to her at some point in the near future." Cavendish opened his
notebook. "Tell me what you know of John McDermott."

"He is the man whom Carissa's parents tried to coerce her to marry."

"Coerce? Isn't that rather strong, my lord?"

"No. What else would you call it when her parents began planning her wedding without ever asking their
daughter if she wished to marry the man? McDermott never proposed to Carissa, yet she was told that her
engagement would be announced at the Hunt Ball. I would consider that coercion, Inspector."

"Is that when you and Lady Wolf eloped?"

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"Yes. Carissa came to me and asked me to take her away. We had been close for five years, Inspector, so it was
no whim on her part."

"Why did you not pursue your suit with her parents? Surely you would have made a very respectable match
for Miss de Moire."

Ryan shrugged. "I was not welcome in Reginald de Moire's home. It is hard to press a suit when a man
considers you his enemy."

"Why does Reginald de Moire consider you an enemy, my lord?"

"Is this relevant, Inspector?"

"I am just trying to ascertain some background, Lord Wolf. I believe that John McDermott was the man who
killed Reesha Armands."

"Have you arrested him, Inspector?" Ryan smiled to herself, pleased that her manipulations had been
successful.

"No, I have not. So John McDermott was your rival for your wife."

"No, he was never my rival, although I was his. Carissa never cared for him, intelligent woman that she is. I
have never had a rival for Carissa's affections, nor she for mine."

"Not even Reesha Armands? Your wife assured me that you were aware of the kind of relationship that they
shared."

Ryan smiled. "I was more aware than you think you are, Inspector. My wife has never given me any cause for
jealousy. I know where her heart is placed, Inspector. Nothing else is of concern to me. Do you really think that
I killed Reesha?"

"I know you didn't. You were in Inverness that night dining with several very prominent individuals. But where
were you the night John McDermott was killed, my lord? You said he was not your rival, but surely his
appearance here was no coincidence."

Ryan's eyebrows rose. "So, McDermott is dead as well," she said in a tone that implied this was no loss. "No, I
do not think his coming here was a coincidence. I suspect he came here to try to convince Carissa to return with
him."

"He must have loved her a great deal, and you tell me that this did not bother you, my lord?"

Ryan laughed. "McDermott was never in love with Carissa. He wanted her inheritance. Certainly you know he
is the son of Reginald de Moire's business partner. Carissa is the sole heir to her father's half of the business, and
if McDermott had married her, the entire company would have been his in time. It is greed, not love, that
motivated McDermott."

"What do you think he would have accomplished if he succeeded in convincing Lady Wolf to accompany him
home? She is already married to you. He could hardly force her to commit bigamy."

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"Perhaps he thought he could have the marriage annulled. Or perhaps he thought we were living in sin
together." Ryan smiled at the Inspector's look of shock. "Come now, Inspector, every year there are dozens of
cases of young women being seduced into running away with men with no scruples. Even women of Carissa's
class. McDermott and Carissa's father both probably would not have put such a thing past me, but then,
neither of them really knew me."

The inspector looked closely at Ryan. "You still have not answered my question, my lord. Where were you the
night John McDermott died? You may, as you claim, have no motive to kill Reesha Armands, but tell me that
you had no motive to kill McDermott."

"You are right, I did have a motive had I known he was Reesha's killer. I was very fond of the singer myself,
and you know enough of my reputation to know I do not let anyone harm someone under my protection. As to
your question, Inspector, I cannot answer it if I do not know when McDermott was killed."

"The medical examiner said he was killed three nights ago."

"Then I was here with my wife all night doing my best to comfort her. I'm sure you know I left Inverness and
cancelled the rest of my business trip as soon as I heard of Reesha's death. I knew how very hurt Carissa would
be, and I came back as quickly as I could."

"And I suppose your servants will confirm that you were at home?"

"You are welcome to question them, Inspector."

"McDermott's neck was broken, Lord Wolf, and his body thrown into the sea. The experts on the tide tell me he
could have gone in anywhere along the cliffs here. If I ask your servants, will they tell me that they have never
seen McDermott? That he was never a visitor at your home?"

"Please do ask them. If he had come here to visit Carissa, I am sure that they would have told me so."

Inspector Cavendish nodded, sure that Lord Wolfs servants would say whatever he wished them to. Their
loyalty was legendary. Cavendish tried to decide whether to lay his last card on the table or keep it to use on
her ladyship. The telegram was barely legible after being immersed in the ocean for three days, but Cavendish
had stopped at the telegraph office and obtained a copy of the text. Lady Wolf had invited McDermott to meet
her at an inn the night he died. The telegram was only signed C, but the Inspector was sure who had sent it. Yet
when he had questioned the innkeeper and patrons of the inn, they had identified McDermott easily enough
from his description, but neither Lord nor Lady Wolf appeared to have been at the inn. Instead, McDermott
met a streetwalker, and when the patrons were asked to describe the woman, she bore a striking resemblance to
the dead singer. Cavendish did not believe in ghosts. He had asked himself over and over if Lady Wolf could
have disguised herself to look like Reesha Armands. The answer was yes, but he did not have the least proof,
and by now, he was sure that there would not be any for him to find in this house. Moreover, it did not seem
possible that someone of her ladyship's slight build could break a man's neck and throw him over the cliffs. It
had to have been Lord Wolf who had done the actual killing, but there was no one to place him at the inn.

Cavendish sighed. He laid the telegram out on the table so that Lord Wolf could see the print:

I hear you have been looking for me. STOP. Meet me at the Slumbering Cock Inn at the east end of Cramond

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tomorrow night at nine. STOP. C. STOP.

"And you think 'C' is my wife, Carissa? It could be anyone, Inspector."

"The agent at the telegram office could identify your wife."

"Could he?" Ryan cursed silently. If only Carissa had talked to her, she could have taken the man's memories of
that night. Well, Ryan could still confuse them. "Just what do you think happened, Inspector?"

"I think your wife kept this appointment, and when McDermott followed her out of the inn, you killed him and
disposed of his body by throwing it over the cliff."

"And did the patrons of the inn identify my wife as well? Ahhh, no, I can see that they did not. My servants will
swear that we were both home that night, Inspector. Shall I tell you what I think happened? I think that
McDermott went out drinking that night. Perhaps he met someone at the inn, perhaps he did not, but then he
went out and threw himself off the cliff in a fit of remorse. Personally, I think it more likely that he was stone
drunk and just walked off the cliff because he was too blind drunk to see where he was going. He did drink
heavily. I'm sure the police in Sheffield could tell you of one or two incidents that took place while he was
drunk."

Ryan looked Cavendish directly in the eyes. "I did not kill McDermott, although I admit to you that I might
have been tempted had I known he was Reesha's killer, but I did not even know he was in Scotland. Do you
really wish to arrest me on the evidence you have, Inspector?"

Cavendish sighed again. "There will be people who will believe you killed your wife's former fiance whether I
arrest you or not."

"When have I ever cared what people said about me?" Ryan asked, raising her eyebrow. "Carissa, on the other
hand is one of the few truly good people I know. She has been hurt so very much already, Inspector. Does she
deserve to be hurt more?"

"Are you asking me to drop the case to preserve your wife's sensibilities?"

"No, I'm telling you that you have no case against me, and if you arrest and try me, you will only undo the
great work Carissa has done to help the local orphans. This is not coercion, Inspector. It is the simple truth, and
you know it. McDermott killed Reesha. That case is solved. McDermott committed suicide or had an accident.
The second case is closed as well."

Cavendish grunted his agreement. He knew he could not convict Lord Wolf, and the scandal he caused in
arresting the man would help no one. There was no proof. Even the telegraph agent had been vague in his
description of Lady Wolf. Cavendish would close the case. He had no choice. "I admire your wife, Lord Wolf. I
admire the work she has done. You, on the other hand, you will overstep the bounds one day, and I will be
there to catch you."

Ryan stood and bowed. "You are a worthy opponent, Inspector. I respect your intelligence, and I will keep your
threat in mind."

Ryan rang the bell for Greger. "Do you wish to question the servants, Inspector?"

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"Is there any point in my doing so?"

Ryan smiled. "None whatsoever."

"Then good day to you, Lord Wolf."

"Good day, Inspector."

Ryan sat staring into the fire after the inspector left. She remembered the conversation she had had with
McKay the night after McDermott was killed.

"How could you let her?" Ryan had raged.

"How could I have stopped her?" McKay had answered, equally angry.

"By killing the man yourself!"

"Don't you think 1 would have if I had found him first? I… I loved Reesha as a daughter. You and Carissa, you
knew her for a year; I taught her, nurtured her talent for twenty years. If I had found McDermott first, I would
have killed him. But do you really think that would have spared Carissa anything? If you had killed him for
her, would her guilt be any less now?"

Ryan had felt her rage disappear as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her. "No, it would have hurt
her more in the long run to know she had used another to do the evil she intended."

Ryan sighed. Part of her was glad that Carissa was capable of killing. She had worried that her lover was too
gentle to survive as a vampire. Brynn's death still hung heavy on Ryan's conscience even after all the centuries
that intervened. Ryan worried now that Carissa would follow her first beloved. She felt so helpless, and not all of
her anger at the agent who had been watching McDermott or at McKay or even her servants for not preventing
Carissa from seeking revenge could replace the gnawing worry that ate at Ryan.

Carissa looked like a wraith when she walked into the study. She was almost transparent to Ryan's vampiric
sight, so little energy did she have left. Ryan stood and wrapped her in her arms. Tonight was the first time
Carissa had come down since McDermott's death. Ryan had tried to talk with her before, but she had only
closed her eyes and let the words wash over her. Now Ryan wished she could pray. "Please," she begged in her
mind, not sure of whom, "please don't let this destroy her."

"Nora said the inspector was here today." Carissa's voice was both soft and harsh from all the tears she could
not shed.

"Yes. They found McDermott's body washed up somewhere. The inspector thinks I killed him."

"Oh, Ryan, I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to be tangled in this." Carissa was shaking. Ryan sat her in a
chair and poured her a glass of wine, holding it until Carissa drank half. It wasn't blood, but it might ease
Carissa's throat.

"It's all right, beloved. There is no evidence, and the inspector is smart enough to know he cannot win this case,
and a good enough person not to try when he knows how many people it would hurt. He'll let it go."

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"Can he? Won't his superiors demand he solve the case?"

"McDermott's death could just as easily have been an accident or a suicide. It is not uncommon to suffer a
broken neck if a person goes off the cliffs here. The inspector knows that McDermott was responsible for
Reesha's death. He has no sympathy for the man." Ryan did not tell Carissa how much sympathy the inspector
had for her. "I'll send someone to the inquest, but I'm sure McDermott's death will be ruled either suicide or an
accident."

Carissa nodded, relieved. "I am sorry. I didn't think about the consequences of what I did. I couldn't seem to
care. I just wanted him dead by my hands. But it really didn't change anything, did it?"

Ryan kneeled in front of Carissa, holding her against her shoulder. "How do you mean, beloved?"

"Reesha is still dead, and killing McDermott makes me no less guilty of her death. It just adds the price of
another life to my burden."

"You did not kill Reesha. You are in no way responsible for her death."

"If she hadn't been my lover, she would still be alive. I led him right to her door."

"Carissa, there is no way you could have anticipated this; no way you could have known he would kill someone
just because he had seen you together. That is the act of a madman. He killed her in a mad rage, and that is no
one's fault but his."

"Just as I killed him in a mad rage? Am I any better than he? I was afraid of becoming a monster because I
could not control my appetite, but instead I killed deliberately. What is the phrase? With malice aforethought.
What does that make me, Ryan?"

"It makes you human."

Carissa looked up, startled.

Ryan smiled. "Do you think you are the only person who has ever sought revenge for some beloveds death?
How many men have killed for much less than what was done to Reesha? Everyone has the need to protect the
ones they love, Carissa. And most people go at least a little mad when someone they love is killed. What is
different is that you have the strength, the power to exact a revenge that most people only dream about. That is
a dangerous weapon to hold. If Reesha's brother had challenged McDermott to a duel, do you think the law
would have prosecuted him? Do you think people would have looked at him with anything but admiration for
killing the monster who killed his sister?"

"It wasn't exactly a fair fight between us."

"Neither was what he did to Reesha." Ryan watched Carissa shudder, and she drew a small breath of relief.
Carissa was reacting rationally again. It would take time for her to forgive herself, and even longer for her to
mourn, but Ryan could feel her strength of will returning even as she argued for her own guilt.

"Carissa, you went mad for a while: mad with grief and rage. You are sane again, and as a sane person, I know
you would not do something like this again."

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"How can I be sure, Ryan? What if someone hurts Nora? Or, God forbid, you? How can I be sure I won't
become a killer again?"

"You can't. But knowing you have this potential, you can armor yourself against it, if you choose."

"Is that what you have done, Ryan?"

"In a way, but I'll tell you now, if anyone ever hurts you, I will kill them with no remorse at all. If that makes
me a monster, then so be it."

Carissa smiled weakly. "I think I would be disappointed if you didn't have that reaction. And if that makes me
a monster, then so be it as well."

Ryan laughed with relief and hugged Carissa close. She still felt so fragile. "You need to feed my love. Shall I
send for Nora?"

Carissa shivered. "No… no I can't use her like this. I'll hunt tomorrow, Ryan, if you will help me. But right now,
I can't…" Carissa felt a dry sob choking her. She didn't say the words, but Ryan understood: taking Nora
would be like replacing Reesha.

"Tomorrow then. What would you like to do tonight, my love?" There was just a hint of lasciviousness in Ryan's
tone. She knew Carissa was not ready to make love again, but she wanted her to know she was desired, as
always.

"Would you tell me a story, Ryan?"

"The next portrait?"

"No, tell me how you were made."

Ryan nodded. It was time. Ryan picked Carissa up and sat holding her lover close in her arms.

"I wasn't a very ladylike young woman, but in those days, even the daughters of clan leaders were expected to
work hard. I much preferred taking care of the sheep to sitting at home and spinning or weaving. My mother
tried hard to teach me womanly arts, but I would slip into my brother's breeches and be off with the shepherds
before she was even up in the morning. My father never noticed me unless he wanted someone to blame. He
never hit me. I think I could have stood that better, if he had cuffed me the way he did my brothers when they
did something wrong. He would just look at me with his cold eyes and tell my mother just what a useless brat
she had birthed."

"One cool fall day, I was out with the sheep when I was supposed to be home with the spinners. It was late, but
we were moving the sheep down from the higher pastures, and I expected to be away from home for several
nights. It was what attracted me most about the job. I had gone after a few strays when I smelled a wood fire
not far off. I decided to go investigate."

Ryan told young Cob to take the strays in and slipped into the line of trees that marked the border of her clan's

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land. She had learned to move soundlessly in the forest, and so she was able to creep up on the group of men
camped so close to her clan's land. Ryan drew her breath in when she recognized the clan tartan of these
interlopers. She knew Mathe, the third of his line to bear the clan name. There had been raiding back and forth
between the lands of clan Matheson and Ryan's own clan. Ryan licked her lips, wondering what her father's
reaction would be when she warned him about this group of raiders. If they could capture the Mathe himself,
then they could make a very profitable bargain for his release. Ryan held herself as still as possible and listened
to the men talking.

"She's not very comely," commented one of Mathe's companions.

Mathe shrugged. "She's young and strong and can bear me sons. If I want comely, I know where to find her."
The men all laughed.

"It's time and more than time to make peace with MacThain. We raid some of their sheep, they raid some of
our cows, and what do we have to show of it but the dead?" Mathe said, looking a bit morose.

"You're not saying we can't drive these shepherds into the ground?" said one man, spitting near Mathe's foot.

"Speak softly of my new kin, Garth. If these shepherds were so soft, we would have driven them into the
ground by now. With the Saxon raids getting bolder, I want a friend at my back, not an enemy. You want to
fight someone, go fight those yellow-haired devils and their dragon ships."

Ryan listened, astonished. She would have never expected such sense from Mathe. Her father had been saying
the same things for years now, but the young hotheads continued to raid, showing off their manliness by
stealing a few cattle and burning a farmhouse. Ryan lost track of the conversation for a few minutes as she
speculated just who her father was giving in marriage to seal the pact.

"But Mathe, that black-haired witch child? Who's to say she is even one of the Thain's own getting? You know
what they say of her? She would rather run wild than learn a woman's way. Who knows what she does alone
in the forest."

"Peace, Garth. It just so happens I like taming wild things. She'll learn her manners soon enough."

Ryan's skin chilled as she listened to Mathe's plans for his new bride. The rabid laughter covered her retreat
through the brush. She knew which witch child they were talking of, and peace or no peace, she was not going
to Mathe's bed willingly. Ryan crept back through the forest, and then when she found the open meadows, she
began running.

Ryan lost track of time as she ran on into the night. All she could think of was putting as much distance
between herself and her home as she could. Her father was probably searching for her already. It would be an
insult of the highest order if the bride were not there to meet her groom. Never mind that Ryan's father had not
even asked her, had not even told her of his plans. She hoped it came to blows, that both men would spill blood
over this. The tears running down Ryan's cheeks were as much out of fear as out of hurt. Mathe had buried two
wives already. He was a big man, not known for his gentleness, and Ryan knew that even her position as the
Thain's daughter would not protect her from his appetites. Her father didn't care if Ryan died bearing Mathe's
children. As long as the pact stood, nothing else would matter to him. And so Ryan ran on, not sure where she
could go in the close-knit culture of the clans.

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When Ryan finally stopped, there was a stitch in her side and her breathing was ragged. The moon was high in
the sky, and Ryan estimated that it was almost midnight. She shivered with a primal fear. She had never been
out in the dark alone so late before. There were all sorts of stories of what walked the forest at night, and Ryan
was not immune to the superstitions of her clan. She had to keep moving or her father would find her and drag
her back to be wed, but Ryan's entire heritage called at her to find a safe place to hide. For several minutes, she
sat frozen with indecision, and then the fear of what her father planned outweighed the stories she had heard all
her life, so she began running again. So intent was she on getting away that she never even noticed the thing
that was stalking her.

Ryan heard the Howl at her heels, and she knew she was already dead. There was no way she could outrun a
wolf. She sobbed like a child. She felt the weight strike her from behind, and she curled into a protective ball,
crying uncontrollably. She waited for the jaws to close around her neck. She had seen how a wolf killed before.

Time seemed to stretch into an eternity. Ryan's heart beat furiously, and she fought for breath, and still there
was no pain where she expected the wolf to bite. Instead, the weight lifted off of her. She heard one yelp and
then a sickening crunch. Ryan waited, afraid to move. She could not fathom what had happened to the wolf.

"You can get up now. The wolf is gone."

The voice was soft, almost melodious. Ryan felt drawn to it, and she obediently turned and rose.

"Are you a Saxon?" Ryan asked.

The man laughed. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you have yellow hair," Ryan answered in a dreamy voice. Already she was half mesmerized.

"No, I'm no Saxon. They are fierce warriors who wear their hair in long braids and dress in skins and armor
and carry axes. Do I look like that?"

"No… You're very beautiful. I bet all the girls would be throwing themselves at you, yellow hair or not." The
man laughed and put out his hand, and Ryan moved forward to take it.

"You are very beautiful as well, Ryan."

"No, I'm not. I'm too tall to be a proper girl. And I have black hair. The witch child, they call me. Even my
father says I'm a demon bastard… How did you know my name?"

"How would I not? Or are their other dark-haired beauties in these parts that I haven't been told about?"

It was the man's flattery that began to make Ryan suspicious. She stopped a moment and took a deep breath,
tearing her eyes away from her rescuer for the first time. It felt as if she was coming up for air after a long dive
underwater. Her vision cleared. She saw the remains of the wolf. Its body was tangled with the bush against
which it had landed. The broken bones shone whitely in the moonlight, and the air was scented with its blood.
Ryan felt her stomach turn. It had been a magnificent creature, and now it was carrion. She pulled away from
her rescuer, suddenly aware of how cold his hand was.

"Th… thank you for the rescue, good sir," Ryan said with her teeth chattering. She looked around wildly,

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wondering if she could make it to the trees before the man caught her.

"My name is Blake, Ryan. Have you heard your father speak of me?"

"N… no sir. He doesn't talk to me of important things." Ryan edged farther away.

"Then you don't know how he cheated me? Well, perhaps that is all the better." Blake said. He turned toward
Ryan, reaching out and pulling her to a stop with a hand on her shoulder.

"Look at me, Ryan."

Ryan could see the moonlight glinting on his fangs now. She knew death when she saw it. She twisted in his
grasp, her shirt tearing in his hand. "Noooooooo!" she screamed as she raced for the woods.

"So, you want to play that game, do you?" The vampire laughed. He was after her in a moment.

Ryan could feel the fear eating at her strength. She ran as fast as she could, but the vampire was there, just a
step behind her. She knew he could have reached out and grabbed her at any time, but he held back and
herded her with fear. She ran into trees and felt the thorny bushes tearing at her flesh, but she could not think
to stop herself. Fear was devouring her until she felt that her heart would stop, and still her legs pumped,
making her blood dance with wild sparks in the vampire's sight. When at last she fell, it was at his feet. She had
no strength left to even cry.

"We could have done this the easy way," Blake said. "You might have even enjoyed it, Ryan. But now we will
do it the hard way." His hands were on Ryan's body, ripping the clothing from her. The vampire chuckled as
Ryan whimpered and trembled.

Ryan took deep gulps of air as Blake mauled her naked body. His hands left a trail of bruises across her flesh.
She gathered what strength she had, and when Blake moved to untie his breeches, she kicked as hard as she
could. Blake moved like lightning, but still she caught him a glancing blow to the groin. He bellowed with rage,
and the slap he landed on her face almost lifted her from the ground. His nails raked her now, and the sound
coming from his throat was as feral as a wild beast's. He hit her again, and the bones in Ryan's cheek smashed.
Ryan lost consciousness then, and when Blake shook her, he came to his senses. She would not cheat him of his
revenge so easily.

Blake stood and paced his rage into submission. This one had fire in her. He wondered what havoc she would
wreak on her own family when he was done with her. Blake picked his victim up and slung her over his
shoulder. It was still hours until dawn, but he wanted to take his time with this one. He carried her back to the
cave he had made his den. There he tied her spread-eagle to the stakes pounded into the hard, rocky ground.
Blake poured cold water over Ryan's face and watched in satisfaction as she began to regain consciousness. He
waited until he saw full awareness in her face, then he stood in her full vision and undid his breeches, giving her
a good view of his swollen cock.

Ryan cried out at the sight of him. She fought the ropes that held her, almost oblivious to the pain in her cheek,
but that pain was quickly forgotten as Blake taught her of pain she had never even imagined. He took her hard
and fast, grinding inside her tender flesh until he had ripped more than her maidenhead. He used nothing but
his hands and his member to inflict the pain, but Ryan screamed until she lost consciousness again. Blake
waited almost patiently for her to regain her senses before he raped her yet again, this time feasting on her

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blood even as he feasted on her pain. In the last seconds before death, Blake fed Ryan three drops of his own
blood. Then he left her tied as she was and went to rest.

Ryan never knew how long Blake kept her in the cave. She woke with a hunger she had never dreamed of, and
still he kept her bound, raping her every night before and after he went out. One night he entertained himself
by telling her how Mathe had become enraged with the insult of her absence. He had called a blood feud on
her father, and before Mathe and his companions had fled, they had killed half a dozen of Ryan's clan. One of
the dead was Ryan's youngest brother. Ryan had cried, struggling against her bonds, and Blake laughed at her
and raped her once more. Each night her hunger grew so that she could not tell what was the more terrible
pain: the dragon gnawing from within or Blake invading her body.

Ryan was only half aware of being wrapped in a rug. Blake had done something to her to make her doze that
night. When she became fully aware, she drank in the familiar smells of home. She sat up, feeling dizzy. Her
new senses were more confusing than helpful. The pain of her hunger was overwhelming, and her new hunter's
instincts took command. She could feel the hot blood of the sleeping forms around her. Without thought, she
reached for the closest one. It whimpered in its sleep, but Ryan didn't care. She bit its neck and drank deeply of
its blood. It was dead too quickly, and Ryan's hunger was barely sated. She reached for another sleeping form
and took it just as quickly, glorying in the hot blood as it ran down her throat. The third child screamed as she
grabbed it, but she forced its head back too, draining it of blood as quickly as she could. Now the demon inside
her glowed with power. "More," it demanded, and Ryan laughed with the intoxicating strength that was
running along her sinews.

The laughter woke the rest of the sleeping children, and footsteps pounded down the hall. Ryan stood, herding
the children into a corner where she could pluck them at her will. The door flew open on a scene of carnage.
Ryan spun around to face her new foes, her new prey, and stopped in her tracks when she recognized her
sister-in-law. On the floor were the bodies of three dead children, one of them Ryan's own niece. Blake had left
Ryan in the nursery, not the sheep pen as Ryan thought. She stared at the bodies, appalled at what she had
done. The women were screaming now as well, and Ryan could hear heavier footsteps running down the
hallway. She wanted to explain. She wanted to beg forgiveness. But there was nothing she could say. She
turned and jumped through the window as her brother burst into the nursery carrying a spear. He flung it after
her but missed.

Behind her, Ryan could hear the wailing of the women as she fled into the night. She never turned back.

"Oh, Ryan, how old were you?"

"I was sixteen. I hunted for Blake after that. I was going to kill him for what he had made of me, for what he
had set me up to do. And when my demon demanded, I fed, taking more and more lives. It was months before
I learned any self-control at all, years before I could control my hunger completely. I don't know how many I
killed. I had no one to teach me, no one to force me into control, and I was already a monster in my own eyes. I
remember the taste of my niece's blood. There is a particular sweetness to a child's blood." Ryan felt Carissa
shudder in her arms. "I… I did not take any more children, but it was years before I could overcome my
yearning for that taste."

"Did you find Blake?"

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"Yes, he made no effort to avoid me. He just laughed at me. He didn't even deign to fight me, and I was too
weak to do more than annoy him for the moment. He had two servants with him, both vampires, and he left
me with them. I managed to get away, but by then, his trail was cold again. Over the years, he hunted down
all of the descendants of my clan. He could have killed them all at the beginning, but I think he enjoyed it more
that way. I didn't learn until many years, centuries, afterward how he destroyed them all. There is no one left of
my blood at all, Carissa."

"Except you."

Ryan smiled tiredly. "Except me. Come, you are exhausted. Let's go to bed."

"Ryan, whatever happened to Blake?"

"It was more than five hundred years before I faced him again, and he did not laugh at me then. But that, my
dear, is a story for another night," Ryan temporized as she swept Carissa up in her arms and carried her up to
bed.

20

'Twas the Night Before

The snow sparkled on the ground even in the moonlight. It changed the landscape into a fairyland. Icicles hung
from eaves and branches, and each branch bore a topping of snow, making the trees into sculptures of
darkness and light. Carissa stood on the balcony admiring the night. She felt no cold dressed in just her gown
of red velvet, but then vampires did not feel the physical cold. It was the coldness of spirit that had enveloped
Carissa these nine months since she had become a killer. Still, this had been a very good day for Carissa, and
the good days were beginning to outweigh the bad ones.

Carissa had risen early, around three in the afternoon. The sun was already low on the horizon, and she had
dressed for the day in a festive gown of red velvet trimmed with ermine. Ryan had given her a fabulous cape of
ermine for Christmas, and Carissa had sailed down the stairs with no dark thoughts on her mind at all.

"You look wonderful," Ryan said as she kissed Carissa's hand.

"Thank you, my love. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"

"Thank you, but I think I would just scare the children."

Carissa laughed and kissed Ryan. She climbed into the carriage with a spring in her step that had been missing
for months. Ryan sighed with relief and stood back to watch the laden carriage make its way down the snowy
drive. Ryan had enjoyed watching Carissa throw herself into buying Christmas presents for the children in the
orphanage. She had, of course, included presents for McKay's charges as well. The ladies on Carissa's
committee had planned a very special Christmas party for the orphanage, and Ryan had happily underwritten
most of the expenses. It was a small price to pay for so much happiness. Ryan had drawn the line at one point,
However: She refused to play Father Christmas either at the orphanage or for the party Carissa planned for the
servants and their children when she returned.

Ryan called for her horse the minute the carriage was out of sight. One result of Reesha's death had been that

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Carissa spent more time in Ryan's company. Not that Ryan objected, she was learning all over again to treasure
every moment she spent with her lover, but it did make it hard for Ryan to keep contact with her agents. With
Carissa occupied for the evening, Ryan rode into town to meet her contacts. She was getting particularly
anxious about Blake. It had been months since Alyssa had sent her agents out to contact the vampire, and there
was still no sign of him. Ryan knew he could not stay away, but the longer he took to reveal himself, the more
time he would have to learn Ryan's territory. That was assuming he had already come to Edinburgh and was
hidden somewhere in the district.

Ryan found the Rat watching a line of the poor standing in front of St. Giles awaiting the Christmas dinner that
the church provided every year. Some of the smart ones would hide away bits of bread and cheese and so have
something to eat over the next few days, but most would just gorge on what for them was very rich fare. They
would be sick in the night, and that would weaken them even more at a time when death was hounding their
heels.

"Poor sods," the Rat commented. "A third of them will be dead before the winter is over."

"That's the way it always has been, my friend. At least there are fewer children this year."

"Your lady's work, that."

Ryan smiled with pride. "So it is. She's at a party for them now."

"Remember the plague, Ryan? We gorged on the blood of the dying, and they blessed us for bringing them
death."

"Do they bless you still when you come in the night and bring them death?"

"I don't know. Most are too far gone to notice when I take them. I'll tell you something, though, there be those
tonight who will be so sick from the charity of the church, they will call on death for a release. Silly folk."

"Those poor wretches?" Ryan asked, nodding at the ragged line.

"No, the fools who feed them like this one day a year. If they were really charitable, they'd consider what they
are doing and space the food out."

"If they were really charitable in the true sense of the word, they wouldn't give them food at all. They'd give
them jobs and a place to sleep. But this way, they can go back to their expensive houses and their servants and
eat their Christmas goose all with the glow of knowing how charitable they were tonight."

"You're more of a cynic every year, Ryan."

Ryan shrugged. "Until I saw the true charity Carissa practices, I never thought what a hypocrisy this is, Rat.
Tell me, do you think we owe them anything, the humans?"

"We owe them our existence, Ryan. They gave us birth and they sustain us all our long existence. Your wife has
the right of it. So do you in your own way. You take care of your own; your Lady opens her heart to them all."

Ryan looked surprised and thoughtful. "And you, you keep the worst of our kind from wreaking havoc on
them, don't you, Rat?"

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The Rat shuffled his feet. "All my long existence, people have shunned me, our own kind more than most. You
and Alyssa, you're the only ones who can look me in the eye. You're the only ones who talk to me, but the poor,
they admire me. They come to me for the scribing, and I give them a life. So what if the letters are forgeries? A
job, a roof over their heads, don't they deserve that, Ryan?"

"Yes they do. Tell me though, after they've gotten their servant's job, do they come back to you and thank
you?"

"Not all, but some do. Some bring me presents. Does it surprise you that I treasure them?"

"No… no, I understand." Ryan drew a deep breath. It was dark now and the pathetic line was dwindling to an
end. It was time to ask what Ryan had come to ask. "Any news about Blake?"

"No, not yet. I would have sent word if I had heard anything. But something is afoot. Alyssa is agitated lately,
and her temper has flared more than once. It is unlike her." The Rat turned and looked Ryan directly in the eye.
"It is not too late to change this, Ryan."

"I have to face Blake once and for all. I thought you wanted him unmade as well," Ryan said.

"I do. I know you must face him, but send her away. Send your lady away before it's too late, Ryan."

Ryan held completely still for a long moment. She weighed the joy of the last years against the pain of her life.
For the first time, she realized how much the scales had tipped. "You're right, Rat, she should not be a part of
this. I will send her away until it is over. Thank you, my friend, for your counsel."

"She's changing you, Ryan. I think she must be the one."

"I think so too. I had better go. I want to be home before she returns. Good hunting, Rat."

"You too, Ryan."

Carissa smiled as she watched the children unwrap their gifts. Most were practical things such as a new pair of
shoes or a new dress, but these brought great joy as well, since many of these children had never in their lives
been given anything new. But Carissa had also made sure each child received one toy. The dolls were hugged
and admired, and the toy trains and wagons were raced down the hall. Even the wrappings brought joy as the
used ribbons were tied in the children's hair. Carissa had always loved Christmas, but sharing it with these
orphans gave the holidays even more meaning.

For the first time, Carissa felt a pang that she would never bear a child of her own. She looked out the window
and watched the lazy snowflakes fall, thinking that she would never hold a daughter to her breast, never watch
her take her first steps, never see her face light up with joy as she opened her first Christmas present. Carissa
swallowed against the lump in her throat. She asked herself if the bargain she made was worth it, and when she
thought of Ryan, she knew that it was. But still…

Carissa looked down to see a toddler wind his sticky hand in her skirts. He was one of the children she had
saved from the vampire the summer before. He had been emaciated to the point of looking like a skeleton then.
Now his body had filled out and his cheeks glowed with health. Carissa picked him up and placed him in her

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lap. He wrapped his arms around her neck and gave her a sticky kiss. He would have been dead but for her.
Yes, the bargain was worth it, but Carissa wondered how Ryan would feel about adopting.

The journey home had been thoughtful. Carissa wondered if it would be fair to bring a child into her life.
Would she be able to protect a daughter? She hadn't protected Reesha, and even Ryan had failed to protect
Clywd. Perhaps it was better, safer to leave the children in the orphanage, and if she had a few favorites, no one
would object. It wasn't as if she was lonely. Ryan's servants were almost family. Carissa would never have
thought of sitting and chatting with the servants in her father's house, but she spent hours talking to the
housekeeper and the cook, even to Timothy. And then there was Nora. The six months she had asked the girl to
wait were long over, but Carissa had not been able to think of taking a lover after Reesha's death. Now that she
had grieved for her mortal lover, her thoughts turned to the young maid who loved her. Carissa smiled and
began planning how she would take the maid to her bed again. If the young woman thought she had
experienced pleasure before, Carissa would show her otherwise.

Ryan slipped out onto the balcony and watched Carissa a moment. It had been a good day, but for Ryan, the
best was yet to come. She stepped up behind Carissa and hugged her close. "You look happy tonight, beloved."

"I am. You have given me such a wonderful life. I'm not sure how I can ever thank you."

"It is you who have given me so much, my love. But if you really want to thank me…"

"Yes?" Carissa asked eagerly.

"You will let me unwrap my present."

Carissa looked puzzled. "You already did unwrap the present I gave you, Ryan."

"Oh, yes, and I loved it, my dove. But I meant this present here," Ryan said, tugging on the back of Carissa's
dress.

"Silly, that's not a present."

"Then why does it have a bow?" Ryan tugged the end of the ribbon and the bow came undone. Carissa laughed
and turned in Ryan's arms.

"Very well, my lord, but let us please go inside."

"Afraid of scandalizing the servants?" Ryan asked, nibbling on Carissa's ear.

"They are far past being scandalized, as you well know. But I would prefer making love on the bed, not on the
snow."

Ryan closed both the shutters and heavy drapes before she turned to Carissa. The candlelight gave the red
velvet gown deeper shadows, and when Carissa moved, the gown seemed to swirl in the same pattern as her
blood. Ryan stood admiring her lover. She had grown in the last seven years. Carissa had come to Ryan an
innocent full of fire and ideals and a just budding awareness of her sexual self. She was a woman now. There
was no innocence in her eyes, but both the fire and the ideals had survived. Ryan had once likened her love to
the ruby, like the one that hung between her breasts, but to those who Carissa let past her shields, she was more

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like a rose. She enfolded the spirit of those she loved in the soft petals of her caring. Ryan did not doubt there
were thorns as well hidden among the complexity of the flower, but she knew too that the thorns were part of
what gave fuel to the fire.

"I love you," Ryan said simply. It had taken her years to say those words, and now they danced in her mind
like a song.

"I love you too."

There was no need for more words. Ryan stepped forward and slid the gown off Carissa's shoulders. Usually,
she was in such a hurry, she ripped the clothes off her lover, something they both enjoyed. But tonight Ryan
wanted to go slowly, to savor each layer of revelation.

The gown slipped to the floor, and the petticoats followed soon after. That left Carissa standing in a black
bustier. The cups cradled her breasts, pressing them together and lifting them, leaving a deep cleft between.
Ryan kissed the top of each breast, her hands resting along the outside, her thumbs caressing the soft flesh.
Ryan purred as she slid her tongue into the cleft between Carissa's breasts. She could feel Carissa's heart beating
faster, and Ryan smiled. No matter how many lessons in control she had given her lover, Carissa could never
still her heart when Ryan made love to her. Carissa's blood swirled in the pat-terns of her arousal, drawing
Ryan to the vulnerable pulse points on her neck.

As always, Carissa wore no bloomers, and Ryan felt her control slipping as she ran her hands down Carissa's
back and cupped the soft curves of her ass. She pressed her body close to Carissa's and brought her knee up
between her legs. Carissa thrust her hips out and ground her mons against Ryan's thigh. Ryan laughed softly
and stepped back, taking one last look at her lover clad only in the black bustier. Then she reached behind
Carissa to undo the laces.

"Damn, how many hooks does this thing have?" Ryan said after fumbling with the laces for several minutes.

Carissa laughed. "You need to pull the laces through the eyes." Carissa slid her hand down and began caressing
the bulge in Ryan's pants.

"The devil you say!" Ryan threaded her fingers through the complex lacing and pulled hard, snapping the laces
in a dozen places and sending the hooks flying. Ryan pulled the garment from Carissa's body and threw it
aside. She picked Carissa up and strode to the bed, but once there she laid her down gently and began stroking
her body with the lightest of touches.

Ryan ran her fingers over Carissa's shoulders, her thumb tracing her clavicles. "She is so elegantly formed,"
Ryan thought as she stroked out along her arms. She picked up her hands and kissed each palm and then
paused to lick her wrists. The blood was so hot there. Ryan could feel the pulse thrum against her lips, and her
dragon snarled at being teased.

Ryan moved to straddle Carissa, running her hands over her full breasts and soft belly. She traced the lines of
her rib cage, the soft flesh showing just a hint of the bone beneath. She leaned down to kiss Carissa's breasts
and lick down to her navel. There she nibbled around the rim, her tongue darting inside.

"You know you are driving me absolutely crazy," Carissa gasped.

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Ryan smiled wickedly. "Yes, I know. Are you complaining my love?"

"Noooooooo." Carissa was losing complete control, her breathing was ragged with sexual need.

Ryan ground her palm against Carissa's mons and laughed with pleasure as Carissa arched up to her. She was
so very wet already. Ryan smiled thinking what a wonderful Christmas feast she would have, but then she
backed off and went back to stroking gently, this time down the length of Carissa's legs.

"Damn you, Ryan. God but you are a tease."

"Well, if you object to my treatment of you, why don't you take control?" Ryan asked teasingly.

"No… no, tonight I am yours."

Ryan looked up, startled. It was the first time she saw complete submission in Carissa's eyes. It took her breath
away. Always before Carissa had matched Ryan's hunger with a willful fire of her own. Tonight, she
surrendered that power. Ryan felt the knowledge fill her like strong liquor. She felt a sense of triumph she had
not felt in centuries. She loved Carissa's fire, but this act of submission was the most precious gift she had ever
received. She kissed Carissa tenderly, and then hungrily. Carissa threw back her head, offering her throat, but
Ryan moved instead to her breasts, biting hard.

Carissa screamed. Her reaction was electric. Her whole body arched with a stab of pain and pleasure that drove
her to the brink of control, but still she pulled back from coming, letting Ryan drink her blood. Ryan took only
a drop and then licked the marks on Carissa's white flesh. Her body was rigid with sexual tension and pressed
tight against Carissa now, demanding sexually what she was taking in blood and pain. She bit again, and
again, covering Carissa's breasts with bloody marks, and still Carissa held off, though each bite brought a surge
of pleasure as well as pain. Finally, Ryan sat back on her heels and unbuttoned her trousers.

Carissa smiled, remembering the first time. She spread her legs wide, welcoming her lover. Ryan moved
between her legs and pressed her cock against Carissa's opening. She looked her lover in the eyes, and Carissa
arched her neck again, offering. Ryan smiled and bit her throat with the gentlest of bites, thrusting hard with
her hips at the same moment.

Carissa came again and again as Ryan fed from her. She was completely lost to the powerful dance that always
had accompanied Ryan's feeding. It had been a long time since she had felt this glory. She let go completely
and rode the wave of pleasure that never seemed to end. There was no time, no space, only Ryan and this most
intimate act that they alone could share in such perfect harmony. Ryan had learned how to control the flow of
Carissa's blood. She feasted long but took little, prolonging both women's pleasure. The spiral of pleasure did
end at last. Even a vampire's body can only process so much sensation. Carissa drifted toward unconsciousness,
but Ryan slipped between her legs to feast on the potent wine of their lovemaking.

Ryan heard Carissa murmur in her sleep as Ryan's tongue traced her labia. Ryan licked delicately, savoring
each drop she tasted. She loved the complex folds and textures, and the heady aroma was almost like a drug.
She could hear Carissa's soft moans, and it pleased Ryan that she could give such pleasure to her lover even in
sleep. When Ryan drove her tongue deep inside, Carissa arched again, and Ryan was rewarded by a new flood.
She feasted on Carissa and then she lay beside her beloved, holding her in her arms. As the sun rose, Ryan
drifted into sleep feeling happier then she could ever remember.

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Carissa woke after sunset. She stretched languorously in bed. Ryan was up already. One thing she missed was
never finding Ryan in her bed when she woke. Perhaps as Carissa developed more of a tolerance for the sun she
would wake early enough to catch Ryan still asleep. Carissa looked down at the marks on her breasts. They
were healing quickly, but it gave her pleasure to see the red-rimmed bruises marking her flesh. They were like
flowers, she thought, wishing they would not fade so quickly.

Carissa rang the bell as she jumped out of bed. She was hungry this evening, not surprising after last night's
lovemaking. She didn't want to leave the house, but perhaps Ryan would come hunt with her. When Nora
came in, her eyes grew round when she saw the marks on her mistress's breasts. Carissa met the young maid's
eyes.

"Did… did it hurt, m'lady?"

"Yes, it did, in the most wonderful way."

"Oh. Will… will you teach me, m'lady?" Nora asked eagerly.

Carissa smiled and took the young woman in her arms. "Yes, I will, but not today." She kissed Nora and then
went into the bath.

Nora felt dizzy with the warring sensations. She was disappointed that Carissa would not take her right then
and there, but she was overwhelmed by the knowledge that she had her mistress's promise. It would be soon
now. She smiled and began laying out a dress for Carissa, one with a high neckline.

Carissa bathed and dressed quickly. The bathwater washed away the traces of blood from her breasts, and it
seemed that, even as she dried them, the bruises were fading as well. She slipped on the woolen dress Nora had
chosen for her, and soon she was ready to face the night.

Carissa found Greger waiting for her when she came down the stairs. "Good evening, Greger, can you tell me
where Ryan is?"

"Good evening, my lady. Lord Wolf…" Carissa couldn't tell if Greger was choking or laughing. "Lord Wolf is
outside making snowmen with the children."

Carissa laughed. "Perhaps I should go join her." Carissa started to turn, but Greger laid a hand on her arm.

"My lady, this note was delivered for you a few hours ago. It is marked urgent."

Carissa opened the letter and read it. She sighed. "Have Timothy get the coach ready for me please. I need to go
to town."

"Bad news, my lady?"

"It seems that the superintendent and some of her staff at the orphanage have taken ill. The woman who was
left in charge doesn't know what to do. The ninny. All she has to do is call the doctor. Tell Ryan I shouldn't be
too late."

"Yes, my lady." Greger turned to send one of the boys out to the coach house while Carissa went back upstairs
to put on her boots and cloak. Around the house she could dress as if the cold did not affect her, but she had to

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keep up appearances when she went out. The carriage was ready by the time Carissa came out of the house.
She smiled as she saw the horses stamping in their traces, the steam rising from their breath. They were ready
for some exercise. Carissa climbed in the carriage and told Timothy she was ready. He seemed to share the
horses' restlessness, and they shot out of the gate at a sprightly canter. Timothy would rein them in in a bit so
they would not overtire them-selves, but for now, Carissa enjoyed the sight of the snow-covered landscape
flashing by her window.

Ryan was disappointed when the children's mothers called them in for their supper. They had built a veritable
village of snow people, and when they tired of that game, Ryan had led them in a snowball fight. Standing
outside in the snow alone, she remembered how precious the sound of children's laughter had once been to her
when the laughter had been Brynn's children. She felt a pang that Carissa would never know motherhood, but
for the first time she truly understood Carissa's preoccupation with the orphanage. Ryan realized that she
hadn't seen Carissa all evening. Perhaps she had gone into town to hunt. Ryan suspected that last night's play
had left her rather hungry. She turned to go into the house and then had an idea, a surprise for the children
when they came out to play in the morning.

Ryan began rolling the big balls of snow that would form the body of the dragon. She would position it so that
it would be threatening the snow village the children had made. Tomorrow they could have the pleasure of
defeating the dragon and saving their village. Ryan wondered how she could make the wings.

It was close to sunrise when Ryan finally came into the house. She was surprised to find Greger sitting in the
hallway, half asleep, waiting for her.

"What is it, Greger? You know you don't have to wait up for me."

"I… I was concerned, my lord, because her ladyship has not returned as yet."

Ryan frowned. "What time did she go out?"

"About an hour after sunset. She received a note from the orphanage about some illness, and she went to
straighten things out, but she did say she would not be long."

"Do you have the note?" Ryan took it from Greger's stiff fingers and read it quickly. "The illness could have
been worse than she thought, and she might have been forced to spend the day in town."

Ryan cursed the sunrise. It was getting to be a habit. "Have the other carriage made ready, and send Jarred and
Thomas to make inquiries. Carissa might not have felt comfortable staying at the orphanage during the day, so
have them inquire at Master McKay's as well as at Lady Augusta's house. I wonder why the matron at the
orphanage didn't send for Lady Augusta in the first place. She is much closer."

"Yes, my lord, I will send them immediately. Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?" Greger knew
Ryan would worry until she received news. Lady Wolf did have a penchant for getting into trouble.

"No, thank you, Greger. I will be in my study." Ryan resolved to try to nap. If nothing was wrong, then she
would just waste her energy worrying, and if something was wrong, then she would need her energy even
more. In either case, there was nothing she could do until sunset. She sat calmly in her chair, willing herself to
sleep, but in the back of her mind gnawed the image of Blake. She had waited too long, and she knew it.

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Jarred and Thomas came back too quickly. Ryan heard the carriage in the drive less than two hours after they
had left. She chafed with impatience, but she dared not run out into the sun. Greger knocked on the study door
when it was safe for Ryan to come out. She gasped when she saw the cloak-shrouded form they brought in
with them, but even before she drew back the fold covering the face, she knew it was not Carissa.

"He's not dead," Ryan told the men. "Bring him up to the north chamber, and, Greger, have Cook send up
some boiled water as well as a pot of tea." Ryan examined Timothy quickly with her vampire vision. "I'll need
two long splints and some bandages."

Ryan went up ahead of the men and opened up the room. She pulled back the bedding. The first priority was
to get the man warm. He had been out all night in the snow. It was a miracle he was not dead. Ryan sent for
hot water bottles and for heated stones to place at his feet. His toes were gray, and she was afraid he would lose
one or two to frostbite. She stripped off his wet clothing and wrapped him in warm blankets while around her
the servants scurried to do her bidding.

"Where did you find him?" Ryan asked Jarred who was helping her wrap Timothy in warmed blankets.

" 'Bout halfway to Cramond, m'lord. We wrapped 'im in our cloaks and put im in the carriage, but we kept
going to see if we could find her ladyship. We found the other carriage a couple miles on. 'Twas easy to spot,
blood all over the snow."

"Blood?"

"The horses, m'lord. They had their throats cut. Looked like the carriage went off the road, there where there's a
ditch by the curve."

"No sign of her?"

"No, m'lord." Jarred looked away.

"Not even… not even ash?"

"No, m'lord. Greger told us what sign to look for if… if she'd been taken by the sun. We looked careful like."

"Thank you, Jarred, I'm sure you did. Well, I had better set his leg while he is still unconscious. You'll have to
hold him." Ryan moved to the foot of the bed. She ran her hands over Timothy's leg. She could feel where the
bones were twisted out of place. It was a bad break, and to set it, she would have to both pull and twist. Jarred
and Greger held the younger man steady while Ryan applied pressure to the leg. She had to be gentle; with her
strength she could just as easily pull the whole leg off. Slowly, the leg rotated a bit, and then the bones popped
into place. If there was no splintering, it should heal well. Jarred held the splints in place while Ryan bound
them to the leg. Now, there was nothing to do but wait until Timothy regained consciousness. Ryan sent the
servants away to get their rest, but when Nora crept into the room, she did not have the heart to send her away
as well. Ryan knew that the maid was as worried as she was.

Timothy began to wake two hours past noon. Ryan fed him hot, strong tea, well sugared to help prevent shock.
She would not let him speak until she was sure he had regained enough strength. It would not do to have him
faint in the middle of his narrative. When Ryan turned at last to question him, her voice was colder than the icy
wind that rattled the windows.

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"What happened?" Ryan asked simply.

"You know about the note her ladyship received?" Ryan nodded. "We left here at a fair clip 'cause she was in a
hurry to come back home. I had just pulled the horses in to go around the curve when a man stepped out of the
woods. The horses panicked. They reared and plunged, and I couldn't bring 'em around. The man… he struck
Tilda with his stick." Ryan realized that Timothy was talking about one of the horses. "I think he broke her leg
'cause she went down in her traces, and then Milly bolted and we went over into the ditch. I… I was pinned
under the carriage. My leg was caught under the seat."

Ryan made Timothy stop and drink more tea. "Go on."

"There were three of them in all, m'lord. The first one who had spooked the horses and two others. They went to
the carriage and opened the door, and one of them came reeling out with her ladyship's cane through his
throat. He screamed something awful, but the other two, they just left him in the snow there. They pulled her
ladyship out of the carriage. She put up a bonny fight, she did, m'lord, but there were two of them, and in the
end, they bound her in chains and put a bag over her head. I tried, m'lord, I tried, but I couldn't get free of the
carriage."

"There was nothing you could have done, Timothy. They were vampires and well beyond your strength."

"Yes, m'lord." Ryan could see the young man was close to tears.

"Did they take the other vampire with them, the wounded one?"

"They dragged him off into the trees and pushed him into a hole."

"Any chance he survived?"

"No, m'lord. I saw the sun take him." Timothy shivered. "They could've saved him, couldn't they?"

"Yes, if they had wanted to. Which way did they go, Timothy?"

"Toward Edinburgh, m'lord. I expect they had a wagon or coach 'round the corner cause I could hear hoofbeats
after awhile."

"That means they had to have a human driver." Ryan looked thoughtful. There were many livery stables in
Cramond and Edinburgh, but it was a place to start looking.

"M'lord, I had to… I had to slit their throats, Tilda and Milly. They were screaming in pain. I could see their leg
bones broken through their flesh." Now the young man was crying.

"You had no choice, Timothy. They would never have survived the night, and even if they had, we would have
had to put them down. You couldn't let them suffer like that."

"Yes, m'lord. They were… they were her ladyships favorites." Ryan felt a pang, but she could not afford any
softness now.

"How did you survive the night?"

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"The… the horses, m'lord. I lay down between them, and they kept me warm most of the night. When they
started to… to cool, I began crawling back toward the house. I knew I had to warn you. You'll get her back
won't you, m'lord?"

"I'll get her back," Ryan said, and there was steel in her voice. "Now, what did the vampire look like, Timothy?"
Ryan asked, knowing what the answer would be. She had to be sure, but she knew in her bones she had left it
for too long.

21

The Ending

"Ahhh, good. You're awake, my dear."

Carissa had awakened in stages. At first, she had been too confused to put the pieces together, but then the
memories came back of the carriage spilling off the road and the horses screaming in terror. Carissa had known
at once it was a vampire attack, but the tumble that sent her sprawling as the carriage fell over disoriented her
long enough that she could not identify all of her attackers. She thought she had two to deal with, and she
drove her cane into the first vampire's throat the instant he opened the door. The second man had tried to
grapple with her, and she let him grab hold of her just enough to give her the leverage to send him sprawling
headfirst into the snow. But the third man who had come up behind her had a strength she could not combat.
He was even stronger than Ryan. As the realization hit her, Carissa knew who he was.

"You're Blake. Ryan told me about you."

"Did she now? And did she warn you that I would be coming for you?"

Carissa calmly eyed her captor. He was as handsome, indeed as beautiful, as Ryan had described, down to the
soft, velvet voice. But if he thought he could seduce Carissa with that voice, he was going to be disappointed.

"She told me how you slaughtered her family. After all these centuries, is it worth it to carry on the feud?
Haven't you killed enough?"

Blake laughed. "My dear, you have it backward. It is Ryan who will not let go of the feud. She wants to destroy
me. Don't you know her well enough yet to understand how very much she savors revenge? She tricked poor
Alyssa into sending for me, and you, my dear, were the bait. Ryan knew I could not resist coming here if I
knew she had taken a lover."

"I don't believe you. Why should it matter if Ryan has taken another lover? She has had enough in her long
life."

"Ah, but you are the first she has ever made. Did you know that?"

Carissa realized that Blake did not know about Brynn. She looked at Blake's beautiful face and thought Ryan
had described him well as the image of Satan, once the beloved of God. What Ryan had not seen was the
madness in this man. A vampire's eyes were usually his most compelling feature, but Blake's eyes were
constantly darting around the room as if he were a caged wild creature. Carissa wondered how old he was.

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"I know more about Ryan's history than you do Blake. She will find you, and for touching me, she will destroy
you."

Blake laughed again. "Ahhh, but I have turned the trap around. I have stolen her bait, and now I use you to
trap her. I count on her coming here, my dear. I will make her watch you die before I kill her. Did she tell you
about Perry?"

"Perry?"

"I see she did not. He was my boy. A young man I made, oh, I forget how many years ago. Such a handsome
lad he was. I quite, I really did like him, and Ryan killed him. She drove a silver dagger into his heart and left it
there. It took a very long time for him to die, and his screams! I still hear them in my sleep." Blake moved so
that he could look directly into Carissa's eyes.

"Ryan took someone I cared for, and now I will take someone she loves. The scales will be balanced, and then I
can unmake what I once made. A fitting finish to the witch child of the clan MacThain."

"A clan you destroyed. Why? What did they ever do to you that you had to kill them all?"

"You know, I've quite forgotten. All those years. You understand, new memories crowd out the old ones and
unimportant bits are lost." Blake sat down next to Carissa and began stroking her naked body. His hands had
become ugly over the years: the fingers were crooked and he wore his nails long, like claws. Carissa shuddered
as he touched her, but the chains that bound her were so tight she could not even flinch.

"Did Ryan tell you how she killed her niece? Ahh, I see she did. I was rather disappointed that she didn't kill all
the children in the nursery that night. I starved her long enough, but then the young can be so clumsy. And
perhaps it was better that she was caught in the act, as it were. Do you know what I did afterward?" Blake
laughed. "I hunted the members of the clan a few at a time. I didn't want the sport to end too soon, you see. I
hunted them, and when I killed, I always left one alive, although I admit never undamaged. I planted memories
in the survivor's mind, and all those long years, they thought it was Ryan hunting them. Ryan's father went to
his grave cursing her. It was so delicious. I could come into the clan house as a respected visitor and hear them
talking about the witch child, the dark-haired changeling who was hunting her own kin."

Blake started laughing again as Carissa watched with horror. This was a kind of cruelty she could not even
begin to understand. She understood why Ryan hated this creature.

"I will very much enjoy watching Ryan destroy you," Carissa spat.

"I've offended your delicate sensibilities, my dear. I see you still don't believe me about Ryan though. When
Alyssa first contacted me, I considered whether she was acting out of an old loyalty for her sire, but I know her
too well. Did you know that Alyssa was of my making? In any case, I was rather suspicious when I came to
Edinburgh, and I was correct to be. There were agents watching every port and railway, even the overland
roads. They were Ryan's agents. I caught one and made him talk. I could, of course, just have taken his
memories, but it is so much more entertaining to force a man to talk. My minions rather enjoyed it as well. Yes,
I do use words such as minions. Old-fashioned words, but then I'm an old-fashioned man. I was quite wrought
with Alyssa when I caught up with her. I thought she had betrayed me to Ryan. I even considered that they
had formed an alliance and were plotting to destroy me, and I have never given Alyssa any cause to act that
way." Blake sounded like a father scolding a child.

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"What did you do to Alyssa?" Carissa asked, half afraid to hear the answer.

"Oh, nothing very dire. I just took her thoughts. I could see how Ryan manipulated her into contacting me to
tell me of your existence. You know, she quite felt guilty about it. She rather likes you, but in the end, she had
to bow to her old master. She has served me well in this coil, so I think I will allow her to keep Edinburgh when
I am done here."

Carissa digested the news. Alyssa had warned her not to trust Ryan. Was this what she had meant? For all that
she wanted to disbelieve Blake, his words had a strong echo of the truth around them. Ryan had let her think
Blake was long unmade, saying that she had fought him centuries after their first encounter. She had not
warned Carissa at all. From the beginning, Ryan had been training her, but was it to withstand Alyssa and her
court? What danger had they posed to her all these months?

Blake broke in on Carissa's thoughts. He was an old master at reading a victim's state, and he knew he had
planted a seed of doubt in Carissa's mind. But it wouldn't do to let her think of it too long just now.

"Do you recognize these?" Blake held up a tray containing a set of a dozen sapphire-headed hat pins. At the
bottom of the tray was a dagger set with a sapphire in the pommel. "Yes, these are the stones from the necklace
you sold all those months ago. Alyssa did not want to part with them, but I can be very persuasive. I had these
pins made especially for you, and the dagger. The dagger is for Ryan. I will kill her in the same way she killed
Perry. I will enjoy her screams, but just now, I would like you to serenade me."

Blake picked up the first pin and held it up so Carissa could see the glint in the lamplight. Blake did not have to
tell her that the shaft was silver. She tensed as he moved toward her with the long pin. When he slid the shaft
under the skin of her breast, she screamed, and his laughter mingled with the sound as he slid the deadly silver
into her breast until the curve of her flesh forced the point back out. A finger's length of silver now lay beneath
Carissa skin, like a line of fire and ice burning its way into her body.

Carissa caught her breath in a sob as Blake picked up a second pin. The smile on his face chilled her. He was
enjoying her pain. She bit her lip as he began sliding the silver into her other breast. She knew she could stop
the scream and deny him his pleasure, but at what cost of strength? She screamed again, and the giggle that
escaped Blake was almost like that of a child. Carissa lay gasping while Blake stroked her flesh under which the
pins lay. The pain was dizzying, and she was not sure how much more she could take. Twice more he drove the
deadly silver into her breasts. Carissa could hear her own screams echoing off the walls. She was ashamed of
her weakness, but nothing in her life had prepared her for this kind of pain.

"Yes, yes, it is an exquisite pain, isn't it, my dear?" Blake's hand strayed toward a fifth pin, but then he stopped.
"I mustn't be greedy though. I don't know how long it will take Ryan to find you. You do know that silver is
deadly to our kind? Yes, yes, you do. In time, even just these four pins I've placed in your lovely flesh—Ryan
really does have exquisite taste. I will have to tell her that before I kill her—oh yes, even these four pins will kill
you in time, but it might take weeks. Not a very nice way to die, is it? I tell you what. Each day that it takes
Ryan to find you, I will add four more pins. Call it my nightly concert." Blake looked at the tray. "But that will
give us only two more nights of entertainment. Well, if she doesn't find you by then, I will just have to use the
dagger. Do you know that a silver-poisoned cut scars? Ryan left several on my body the last time we met."
Blake stroked Carissa's cheek, tracing a line from her eye to her chin. "It would be a shame if I had to mar that
beauty."

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Blake was caressing Carissa's body again, his hands sliding to her thighs. "Oh, yes, and I mustn't forget to rape
you, but I think, I really do think I would like Ryan to be here to see that. Now, you can scream all you want,
but you might want to save your strength. I'm off to do a little hunting, myself. Good night, my dear."

Carissa watched Blake walk out of the long room. She was glad he had left the lamps burning, for she wanted
to memorize her surroundings. Blake wanted Ryan to find her, so he would have left clues for Ryan. Carissa
needed to conserve her strength. She studied the room and committed it to memory. It was both long and wide,
and there were crates stacked along one wall: a warehouse then. There was a smell of water, but not salt water.
Perhaps it was one of the ware-houses on the Water of Leith. She wasn't sure what her observations gained her,
but Carissa felt that each bit of knowledge was power, and so she gathered all she could find.

Carissa tried her chains, but she knew that it would be futile. Ryan might be able to break them, but she could
not. Now she needed to exercise her control like never before. The silver would poison her, over time, but only if
her blood spread the poison to the rest of her body. Carissa willed her heart to stop beating. Slowly, she could
feel her blood sinking in her body. The pain was more distant now, and Carissa began to will it away from her
as Ryan had taught her. She would be able to rest, but for the first time since becoming a vampire, she felt
physically cold.

Ryan knocked on McKay's door and pushed past the child who opened it with little ceremony.

"I thought you had sealed this place against vampires, yourself included." McKay challenged Ryan as she
strode into the room.

"You invited me inside when Carissa dealt with McDermott," Ryan reminded the music master.

"Well, I'm dis-inviting you now."

"Blake has taken Carissa. I need your help."

"Blake?" McKay asked, confused.

"He's an old enemy of Ryan's," Clywd explained as he ushered the children into the kitchen. "How can we
help?"

Ryan took a moment to explain her history with Blake to McKay, and then she answered Clywd's question.

"I need to cover all the livery stables to find out where Blake might have hired a wagon. I've sent my own folk
out to ask, but you two would be better at picking up a vampire's scent. But do not, under any circumstances,
try to face Blake yourself. He is incredibly dangerous."

"Aye, we will help," McKay agreed, "but only if you promise to take us with you when you confront him."

"Agreed." Ryan outlined her plan to the two men. She had brought both coaches with her as well as her own
horse. McKay and Clywd would each go with a coachman and cover as many livery stables as they could.
They would return here before sunrise, and Ryan would meet them to discuss their findings.

"Where are you going?" Clywd asked.

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"To talk to Alyssa."

"What…"

"We do not have time to discuss this now. Blake won't kill Carissa until he has me, but that does not mean he
won't damage her. Do you understand?" With that, Ryan was gone. The two younger vampires looked at each
other and then began making their own preparations. Only a few moments later they themselves were ready.

Ryan pounded on the door in a most uncivilized manner. The butler who opened the door was more than a
little shocked.

"I need to see Alyssa." Ryan demanded, shocking the butler even more with her familiar address.

"Whom may I say is calling?" the man asked in his most pompous manner.

"Ryan, Lord Wolf." The butler turned white and scurried away, babbling for Ryan to wait. Ryan could have
forced her way into the house. She did own it, but she did not want Alyssa to be aware of the fact. She might
yet need to come here in force, and it was better not to alert the occupant that she did not need an invitation to
enter.

It was the Rat who came and got Ryan.

"What are you doing here? Where is Alyssa?" Ryan demanded, having no patience for diplomacy.

"Alyssa is unwell. I came because Trisk summoned me. He's smart enough to know when he is out of his depth,
but I have to admit that I am out of mine as well." Cleaned up and dressed in good clothing, the Rat was still
recognizable as the deformed man Ryan knew, but he did carry a strong aura of command. "Ryan, can you go
to her? Help her?"

"I… Blake has taken Carissa. I came to see if Alyssa knows where he is holding her. I left it too late, Rat."

"Ryan, I won't let you hurt Alyssa. I won't let you rape her mind for what you need."

"For God's sake, Rat, I don't have time to fight with you. You know how Blake is. You know what he will do to
Carissa."

"Carissa is your treasure, your love. Alyssa is mine. I will not let you harm her."

Ryan sighed in exasperation. "I won't harm her. You have my word, and have you ever known me to break my
word?"

"Never, but you've never had so much at stake." The Rat thought for a moment and then beckoned Ryan to
follow him. Alyssa was laid out on her bed. She looked dead, but then she was dead. Ryan could see the fire of
her blood was still there in motionless pools, but her heart and lungs were still. A human servant would assume
she was dead, but a skilled vampire would know better.

Ryan caressed Alyssa's hair back from her face and looked into her eyes. Alyssa fought her hard, and mindful
of her promise, Ryan did not bludgeon her way past Alyssa's guards. With infinite skill, Ryan worked her way

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into Alyssa's mind. When Ryan returned, she felt as though she had fought a long hard battle, but she had kept
her word and Alyssa was untouched.

"What did you find out?" The Rat said, handing Ryan a glass. Ryan drank the wine, needing the moment to
clear her mind.

"It was Blake. He didn't trust Alyssa not to warn me, so he placed a kind of geas on her. It's all right, Rat, she
will wake in a few days. There may be some scars, but no one can heal those except Alyssa herself." Ryan had
been surprised at the amount of guilt she had found in Alyssa's mind. If Ryan had had the luxury to feel for
anyone else, she would have felt sorry for Alyssa who had found herself caught between two such powerful
opponents.

"Did you find what you needed, Ryan?"

"Yes and no. I have a name, but I'll be damned if I know what it means."

"What is the name?"

"Maclarin. Ever hear of him?"

"No. What do you plan to do now, Ryan?"

"I have two friends, well, not quite friends, looking into the livery stables in Cramond and west Edinburgh. I
plan on taking the east side of town. They must have had a wagon or carriage."

"Unless they have a place close to your manor."

"No, my servants have been searching all day. They would have found any trace."

"I'll take Old Town, you take New Town. Where are you all meeting?"

Ryan looked surprised. "Aren't you afraid to leave her alone when she is so vulnerable?" Ryan asked, nodding
toward the sleeping form.

"You're not the only one who can inspire loyalty, Ryan. She'll be safe enough, and I want a piece of Blake."

Ryan nodded in complete understanding. "We are meeting at Master McKay's an hour before dawn. You know
the place?"

"Aye, I know it. He's of Carissa's making. I can see he'll want a piece of this as well. An hour before dawn,
Ryan."

Ryan felt her frustration growing. She had tried every livery stable and every business that used wagons and
might be persuaded to rent one, and she had learned nothing. Her horse was weary when she reached
Cramond again. She was glad to see that both of the carriages were there. She let one of her men take her
horse. They would have arranged stabling nearby. Ryan knocked on McKay's door, this time waiting to be
invited before entering.

"We found the place," McKay said without preamble, "but I'm not sure if it will be much help."

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"Why not?" Ryan asked, afraid she knew the answer.

"Because the driver and wagon never came back. Blake rented the wagon and hired the driver two days ago.
He said he had some things to move but would supply his own labor. He paid a nice bonus to the owner and
driver alike for the inconvenience of having the wagon out overnight, but they never came back. At first the
owner thought it was the snow, but when the driver still didn't come back tonight, he reported the missing
wagon to the constable."

"Did you get a description of the wagon? Of the horses?"

"Aye, I did, and the owner even offered me a reward if I find them, but, Ryan, they were all ordinary enough.
We won't find them by asking all of Edinburgh if they saw such a wagon. There are hundreds just alike."

Ryan sighed with defeat. Blake had led her on a wild goose chase, yet Ryan knew he wanted her to find him.
What was she missing? What clue had she overlooked? "What was the driver's name?" Ryan asked suddenly.

"Gram, no, Bram Macmillan. I got his address if you want to check where he lives, but he's probably dead."

"Yes, but he may have told someone where he was going to pick up his fare. That would be a start."

The sun was just touching the horizon when there was a knock on the door. Clywd got up to answer, but
McKay motioned the boy back while he picked up a club. No one would call at that time of morning.

"It's all right, I know who it is. Please let him in, Clywd." The boy opened the door.

"I canna come in unless you invite me." The Rat said looking the boy over. "Clywd is it? It's been many years,
but I remember you. You cost that fool Talon his head."

McKay stepped around the door. "I know you. You're the Rat."

"I know you too, Master McKay. Now you gonna invite me in? Or leave me standing here till the sun takes
me?"

McKay laughed and motioned the other vampire in. Then he shook his head, wondering why he ever had the
place sealed against vampires if he was going to have conventions of them in his home.

"They found the stable, but the driver and wagon never returned," Ryan said without preamble.

"Ahhh, not unexpected," the Rat answered. "I've found out who, or rather what, Maclarin is, Ryan."

"What?" Ryan barked.

"It's one of the old houses along the Leith. Remember, smugglers used to build 'em with the floor right over the
river so they could bring the goods in at night, and no one would be the wiser. They probably still do."

"Do you know where it is, Rat?"

"Aye, it's just off Queen Street, on the water itself. It shouldn't be hard to find."

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"Damn, I was so close tonight." Ryan got up and moved toward the door, but the Rat caught her arm.

"There is no way you could get there now. The sun's already up. We best make our plans now and then get
some rest."

"What if it's not the right place?" Clywd asked.

"The boy is right. We need to be sure."

"My coachmen are down the street at the inn. They can go have a look at the place. McKay, could you send
one of the children for them? I know you don't want to involve them, but it's just an errand."

"Aye, that they can do."

The early morning was spent making plans. Jarred and Thomas were dispatched to watch Maclarin House, but
Shane was sent to the wagoner's dwelling to question the people there. The Rat insisted that they all hunt before
going to rescue Carissa. They would need their strength, and Ryan in particular was looking more than a little
worn. Ryan did not argue; she was pragmatic enough to know that Blake would be gorging to prepare for the
coming encounter. Ryan knew she could not sleep, but she thanked McKay for the bed in any case. She would
force her body, if not her mind, to relax, but the last thing she remembered was the Rat coming to ask her a
question. The other vampire caught her eyes, and she had just a moment to feel surprise before she fell into a
deep sleep.

Carissa woke with a scream. She had managed to doze in spite of the silver fire lanced through her breasts, but
a new level of pain tore her from the detachment she had achieved. She looked up into Blake's eyes and felt him
probing past her shields. She knew she could not win a battle of wills with this man, but she did not panic. He
would want her aware for the coming conflict with Ryan. Destroying her now would not serve his purpose.

Blake's eyebrows rose in surprise as Carissa calmly met his gaze. "Ryan really did choose well with you, my
dear," the vampire purred. "I find myself hoping that we can come to some agreement, you and I."

"I rather doubt that," Carissa gasped as Blake began playing with the pins already laced through her flesh.

"Come now, what loyalty do you really owe Ryan? Yes, I know you have been lovers, but she seduced you and
used you. Why should you suffer for her?"

"And you don't plan to use me?"

"Of course I do. But I have never come to you under false pretenses. I tell you openly that I admire your beauty
and your spirit. You know that Ryan will come here to rescue you, but you would not need rescuing in the first
place if it weren't for her."

"Yes," Carissa gasped, "and it would give you much more pleasure if you could hurt Ryan with my defection."

"Beautiful, spirited, and intelligent," Blake murmured. "It would be a pity to waste all of that."

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Now Carissa could feel the older vampire probing with infinite skill along the paths of her emotions. He did not
bludgeon her as she expected, but his velvet voice acted as a counterpoint to the sexual power of his gaze. She
had never felt sexual arousal with a man, but Blake was waking something in her that set her desire burning
even as it nauseated her. She struggled, but all of her strength of will could not stop this mental rape. Carissa
took a deliberate breath setting her heart beating again. The pain from the silver pins redoubled, and she all but
passed out from the renewed fire. She used the pain to counter the sexual tension Blake was building. She let
the fire fill her consciousness until Blake pulled back with a scream. She had struck back at him, not with her
own will, but with what he himself had done to her.

Blake snarled and slapped Carissa hard. She yelped, but the spell he was working was broken. Carissa knew he
could still subvert her will, but he wanted to seduce her. Only that would give him the triumph over Ryan that
he craved.

"Stupid bitch. Suffer then for your lover. Let her use you as she has used so many others. As she tried to use
Alyssa against me centuries ago."

"Alyssa? But you made Alyssa—"

"Yes, I did. Ryan used her as bait, just as she has used you. But I stole Alyssa from her. It was my bed Alyssa
craved. It was me she chose. In that, she was much wiser than you."

Blake saw the look of dismay on Carissa's face. He laughed. "Did you think you were the first? Did you think
you were the only one Ryan has loved? If it is indeed love to seduce a woman only to use her against your
enemy. Oh no. You are not her one true love. You are just the last in a long line of pets she has used and
discarded."

"If that were true, you wouldn't be here."

But Blake only laughed again and picked up another silver pin. "Shall we begin my concert?"

Carissa shuddered but stilled her heart again. She would not let this man poison her. She could not believe him.
She would not. But the pain of the silver in her flesh was nothing compared to the pain of her doubt.

Shane met Ryan at sunset with the news that the wagoner had indeed gone to pick up his temporary employer
at a tavern near the end of Queen Street. It was close enough to Maclarin House to be more then a coincidence.
While Shane got the carriage ready, Ryan and the others hunted. Only Clywd abstained, and no one rebuked
him for refusing. Shane approached the warehouse carefully. He stopped well short of Queen Street and let the
vampires out to approach on foot. He begged to be allowed to come with them, but Ryan pointed out that they
might need the carriage in a hurry. Near the end of the street, where the unsuspecting wagoner met the man
who was his death, Ryan met her own people.

"It's not Maclarin House," Thomas whispered eagerly. "It's that other warehouse there." Thomas pointed.

"How do you know?"

"We watched the house, like you said, but there weren't nothing to see. Then we do see a vampire come out at
sunset, but not from the house you said. So Jarred and I went to take a look."

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"Thomas," Ryan said warningly, "your job was only to watch."

"What for then did you teach me to fickle a lock, m'lord, if not to have a wee look now and then? Anyway, they
have a boat pulled up under the house, a good-sized one, and the humans who sail her are sleeping there, but
there is no sign of m'lady. So Jarred and me, we think it must be that warehouse there."

"Did you go look inside there as well?"

"No, m'lord, we not be crazy going into a nest of vampires in the middle of the night. But come morning, see,
we could—"

"No. I want you to stay here and watch Maclarin House. If any of the humans come out, shout a warning."

"Yes, m'lord." Both men were armed with wooden clubs, and Ryan suspected they would enjoy a fight just
now.

"Well, that explains why none of my agents spotted Blake coming into town. He used a smuggler's trick." Ryan
sighed. "I'm going to look at the warehouse to see if I can find out how many others are with Blake. McKay, has
Carissa taught you yet how to stop your heart?"

"No, I haven't mastered that yet."

"Then you and Clywd stay here until I signal you. They'll see you coming. In a way, I want them to. It will
distract the guards, but I need to be in position first."

McKay and Clywd both nodded. Ryan had given them weapons, canes similar to the walking stick she had
given Carissa, but neither man was trained to fight with such a weapon. Ryan hoped they could stay whole,
but her chief concern, her only concern, was Carissa.

To her sight, the vampire guards were easy to spot. All three of them were clustered in one part of the building,
a mistake in strategy. She would send McKay and Clywd to draw them farther from Carissa. Carissa herself
Ryan would recognize anywhere, although her lover was not making it easy: her breath and heart were both
completely still. For a moment, Ryan froze thinking she was too late already, but then she could see the ruby
fire that was her love. Ryan disciplined herself sharply not to breathe a sigh of relief. It would be like lighting a
beacon for Blake to see. Blake himself was the hardest to find, but Ryan would know his pattern anywhere as
well. She had committed it to memory the last time they had met. Ryan slid back to where the others waited,
and she reported what she had found, drawing a sketch in the loose soil to show everyone their position. Then it
was time to move.

Like Ryan, the Rat could become one with the night. They moved together, like two shadows joined in some
macabre ballet. There were trees enough to lend a dapple of camouflage to their movement, and soon enough
they were plastered against the side of the warehouse. Ryan had examined the building carefully, and she chose
to enter through a loft window. She sprang agilely up onto the Rat's shoulders and then jumped for the ledge.
She swung by her fingers for a moment, and then she pulled herself up using the loose boards of the building
for footholds.

Ryan examined the window carefully before trying to open it. The shutters were old, and the gaps in the boards
would be wide enough for her to slip her dagger into to pry the window open, but if she were Blake, she

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certainly would have trapped all of the entrances into the building. Ryan could just make out the glint of wire
wrapped around the shutter bar. If she lifted the bar, an alarm would sound. Ryan turned to the hinges instead.
They were old, and the wood they sat in was rotted. She worked her dagger into the soft wood and pried out
the screws that held the hinges to the frame. It was agonizingly slow work, not helped by the fact that Ryan
was perched on a narrow ledge. When both hinges were at last free, Ryan shifted her position so that she could
pull the shutter away from the frame and snake her arm inside. She caught the bar before it could fall and held
it in position as she lowered the broken shutter to the Rat. Ryan was at last able to slip into the building,
making sure there wasn't a second trap set for her feet on the loft floor.

After disarming the trap, Ryan took a match and lit it, snuffing it out a moment later. It was the agreed-upon
signal. Clywd and McKay would give Ryan five minutes to get into position, and then they would attack the
building, drawing the guards. The Rat would strike the guards from behind, evening the odds a bit. Ryan
wrapped her belt around her arm and then lowered the other end down to the Rat. The man had to jump to
reach it, but then their combined strength made it easy for the Rat to be hauled up into the loft. They spoke no
words, but the Rat nodded in approval of Ryan's skills.

Ryan moved quietly to the railing. Below her, she could see Carissa's naked, chained form. Carissa looked up
and met Ryan's eyes.

Ryan smiled with pride at her skill. She did not need to signal silence. She moved into position along the loft
rail, placing herself between Carissa and the room that Blake was using. The Rat, more pragmatic, made his
way to the ladder. He could see it was trapped, but noise wouldn't matter once the attack began. The seconds
ticked by, and then a shout went up and there was a sound of splintering wood.

Ryan jumped from the loft, landing directly in front of Blake as he burst from his room. The man fell back,
startled, but he recovered quickly, snarling and lunging at Ryan.

"Free her," Ryan shouted over her shoulder, and then all her attention was engaged in her duel with Blake.

The Rat slid down the ladder like the old seaman he had been. He grabbed a pry bar and ran to the table where
Carissa lay bound. His eyes widened when he saw the deadly pins that pierced Carissa's flesh, but his first act
was to pry open the chains that bound her. As soon as Carissa's hands were free, she calmly began pulling out
the pins. All twelve had been threaded through her flesh, and the pain of the last few hours had been incredible,
testing Carissa's control to the limit. Blake had tried to entice her into begging for some relief from the pain, but
she felt a small pride that she had denied him that, even if she could not stop her screams. She weighed the pins
in her hand. They were her weapons now.

"I need to go help Clywd and McKay," the Rat told Carissa as he helped her down. He was surprised that she
could walk at all, but she nodded and moved to a hiding place behind some crates. Not that Blake could not
find her there, but Ryan was keeping him well occupied.

Carissa ignored the crashes behind her. The Rat looked competent enough to handle the guards with Clywd's
and McKay's help. It was Blake who was the true danger here. For all of Ryan's skill as a fighter, Blake was still
stronger. Carissa watched the deadly dance the two protagonists executed. Blake attempted to pin Ryan so he
could crush her with his strength, while Ryan danced just out of his reach looking for an opening where she
could strike. Blake had the silver dagger glittering in his hand. Carissa knew Ryan carried such a dagger in her
boot, but now she faced Blake with her ebony cane.

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Blake struck again and again, driving Ryan around the large open room, Carissa could see where Ryan's coat
had been sliced open in two places, but she did not know if the blade had cut through to her flesh. Blake was in
a berserker's rage now, fighting without thought, the blood lust ruling his every move. Carissa waited for her
opportunity. Among her other lessons, Ryan had taught her how to throw a dagger and the silver hat pins she
had had made for Carissa. Carissa knew the silver pin would not stop Blake, but it might give Ryan the
opening she needed. Unfortunately, Ryan was between her and Blake, and she dared not strike the wrong
target.

Clywd crashed into the room, a vampire twice his size throwing him against the table to which Carissa had
been bound. The vampire picked up the pry bar that the Rat had dropped and swung it at Clywd's head, but
Carissa stepped into his range of vision. The man swiveled to strike at her instead, and Carissa caught his eyes.
The struggle was intense. He struck with all his will at Carissa's shields, but his mistake was to attack her
sexually. This was something Ryan had taught Carissa to counter. Her will was powerful, and as her assailant
reeled back in confusion, she struck him deep and hard with a probe, not at his manhood but at his deepest
fears. She held him with the thought of fire gnawing at his limbs. He fell to his knees, screaming at the
imaginary flames, and in a moment, Carissa pulled back his head and bit his neck. She drained him of blood,
and she felt the strength running into her. For a moment, she felt as if she had downed a whole bottle of strong
brandy, and then she inhaled once deeply and set her heart beating. She needed to feed her entire body and
clear the dregs of the silver poison from her own blood.

"Are you all right?" Carissa asked Clywd. He looked dazed but mostly whole.

"Yes… Yes. You…" Clywd hugged Carissa close for a moment, and she helped him stand. "McKay and Rat, I
need to help them." Clywd said, looking around wildly.

"They don't need your help anymore. Listen? There are no more sounds of fighting coming from the front of
the building. Can you go get the carriage? We may need to get out of here quickly." Carissa wanted to get the
young vampire out of the fighting as quickly as possible. He had neither the skill nor the heart for this kind of
conflict.

Carissa turned her attention back to Blake and Ryan. Now she stood in the open, no longer afraid of Blake. He
had already lost. He just did not know it yet.

Ryan had planned her attack against Blake carefully. The man's strength was impossible to match, and Ryan
would not try to win either a contest of physical strength or of wills. Blake knew her childhood fears; indeed, he
was her childhood fear. She could not risk letting him into her mind. Instead, she drew on his lack of control.
Her painful blows had worked him into a dangerous rage. He fought now without any thought or plan,
striking whenever, However, he could. He was so fixated on the silver dagger that he did not even try to pin
Ryan, which would have been her death. And Ryan drew him on, encouraging him to strike with the silver
blade until he had blunted it on her clothing. It was an almost useless piece of metal in his hand now; it could
no longer cut, but Ryan kept the knowledge that it could still stab in the very forefront of her mind.

Ryan drove Blake back with repeated, painful blows from her cane. She smashed the knuckles of his left hand
and sent him staggering with a blow to the head. He was up in an instant, charging at her like a bull, but she
slipped nimbly to one side. When he ran past her, she kicked him hard, sending him sprawling. She raised her
cane to drive it through his heart, but he kicked wildly out behind him and caught her in the knee. They both
spun to their feet quickly, and now they faced each other again. The sounds coming from Blake were purely

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animal. He picked up a slab of wood, tossing it like a spear at Ryan. Ryan dodged easily, but she realized that
Blake was too enraged to even feel the pain from his broken bones. She waited until he had wrapped his hand
around another weapon, and then she darted forward and smashed her cane down on his wrist. The bones all
but shattered, and his hand hung uselessly, but Ryan barely jumped back in time to avoid being caught in a
bear hug.

Now Blake was forced to fight one-handed. Ryan spun around and landed a blow on Blake's kidneys. He
bellowed and began to pivot, but Ryan was too fast for him. She drove him into the wall with her shoulder and
then, almost leisurely, she brought her ebony cane up and pierced him through the heart. He caught her eyes
then, and struggle as she would, she could not break free of his hold. He sent back into her mind the memories
of her making. Ryan shuddered under the mental blow, but she too had learned from her lover this year. She
let the memories of rape and torture wash over her. She did not try to reject them. She accepted them, owned
them, and at the last, she looked at Blake in triumph. "Yes," she said in her mind, "this is what you wrought,
but I am no longer a child to be afraid of you." It was Blake's will that broke then. If he had no hold of fear over
Ryan, then he knew she had won. His heart lurched convulsively, and Ryan felt it rip itself apart on the wood
that pierced it.

Ryan stepped away from Blake, letting his form slide down the wall to the floor. To be safe, she would leave his
body where the sun would take it, but it was over, finally over. She sagged against the wall, feeling numb. At
last it was over.

Carissa's warning was too late. The young vampire who launched himself at Ryan drove the stake into her
back, using all the force of his fall from the loft to drive it through Ryan's heart. Carissa's scream spun the
young vampire around, and without thought, Carissa threw two of the deadly silver pins. One stuck the
vampire in the throat, but the second pierced his eye. In his frenzy to remove it, he drove it deeper still until it
lodged in his brain.

Carissa was at Ryan's side in an instant. McKay and Rat had watched Ryan defeat Blake from the doorway,
and now, they too ran forward.

"Is… is she dead?" McKay asked.

"No, not yet. Help me hold her shoulders to the ground." Carissa waited until McKay had braced Ryan, and
then she pulled the stake out of her lover's body. Ryan's heart was still; the wood had pierced it, but Ryan's
control had held, and her heart had not torn itself apart. Even this, Ryan had taught Carissa, could be healed
given time.

Carissa was in complete control now. She began issuing orders. "Make sure all the vampire bodies are where
the sun can reach them. I want to make sure they are all unmade. Clywd," she said to the young vampire as he
returned, "see if you can make a litter for Ryan. We need to get her back to the manor before sunrise." While
the others scurried to obey her, Carissa slit open Ryan's jacket and shirt and carefully bit the edges of her
wound, letting the substance in her fangs help to stop the bleeding and close the wound. But she could not heal
Ryan's heart so easily. That would take time.

Carissa took one carriage with Ryan and Clywd while she had the other carriage drop McKay and the Rat
where they needed to go. She left one man to watch and make sure the sun destroyed all of the vampire bodies.
The ride home was too slow for Carissa's nerves, but there was nothing else she could do for Ryan now. Carissa
made plans for the future. She and Clywd would have to take turns feeding Ryan. The more powerful vampire

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blood would help heal her faster. She knew the servants would help as well. It would take time, but Ryan would
recover. Carissa set her will on that goal, and her will was adamant.

22

Sweet Sorrow

Carissa looked down at her sleeping lover. Ryan had lain still as death for over six weeks. Carissa was able to
rouse her to feed from time to time, but even then, Ryan was not conscious of her surroundings. At first, Carissa
was afraid that she could not save Ryan. When she looked at her lover with her vampire sight, she could see
that there was some foreign substance in her heart. The wooden stake had been removed, but it had left long
splinters behind. Ryan's heart could not heal while the wood remained. When Ryan showed no signs of
improving after three weeks, Carissa decided she had to remove the splinters. She stole books on anatomy from
the university library and pored over them night after night. With great daring, she cut deep into her lover's
chest, fracturing the breastbone to reach the heart. Since the heart was not beating, there was little bleeding,
but drawing out the splinters meant cutting into the heart muscle itself. She made delicate cuts into the
chambers and drew the splinters out. She understood now why wood was such an insidious weapon to use
against a vampire. Even a silver blade would not cause this much damage as long as it was removed before the
heart tore itself apart.

Once the splinters were removed, Carissa allowed the heart to heal for some weeks. But Ryan's body was not
receiving nourishment because, even though she fed, her heart was still not beating and moving the
nourishment through her body. And Carissa could not start Ryan's heart for fear it would tear itself apart. It
was a delicate balance between bringing nourishment to the heart and letting it heal, but Carissa found she
could stimulate the blood flow by pressing rhythmically on Ryan's chest. She would do this for short periods to
bring the fresh blood to Ryan's heart itself, but then she would let the muscle rest and heal. After long weeks of
tending to her lover, Carissa was finally convinced that Ryan would recover. Now it was time for Carissa to see
if her own heart could heal.

Carissa came down the stairs in a melancholy mood. She had played Blake's words over and over in her mind,
but she could not dismiss them. She knew the man was a monster, that he had said what he had to hurt Carissa
and through her Ryan. But Blake's words were too close to the truth for Carissa to dismiss. Why hadn't Ryan
told her that Blake was still alive? Why hadn't she warned her of the possibility that he would seek revenge by
going after Carissa? Ryan had been ready enough to warn her about Alyssa, why not Blake, who was by far
the more dangerous threat? And Alyssa's antipathy toward Ryan made much more sense if what Blake had
said was true, if Ryan had deliberately used Alyssa as bait to trap Blake. Carissa knew she could not trust
Blake. But from whom could she find out the truth? If Ryan could betray her so completely, she could just as
easily lie to her. And Alyssa had her own reasons for lying. The only thing Carissa was sure about was that she
couldn't live with the doubt.

Carissa thought of Ryan's associates. Ryan's human servants and agents wouldn't know anything, and the only
vampire Carissa knew was Clywd, and he was much too young to have the answers to Carissa's doubts. But
there was a fourth vampire at the warehouse: the Rat. She knew he was one of Alyssa's lieutenants, but the man
also seemed to know Ryan. The question was, how long ago had he been made? How well did he know both of
them? Carissa stopped at the foot of the stairs, considering her options.

"Good evening, m'lady," Greger said. "How is her lordship?"

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Carissa smiled. "Much better. I think in a few more weeks Lord Wolf will be healed. She will still be weak for
some time, but it will only be a matter of feeding to recover her strength."

"She is very lucky to have you, my lady," Greger said gravely. "And you know that I and the rest of the staff
will help in any way we can."

"Thank you, Greger. Your help through all of this has been greatly appreciated." Carissa smiled at the butler,
thinking how she would miss the servants who had become her family.

"Greger, I need to send two telegrams. Will you send Thomas to my sitting room in a few minutes to fetch
them?"

"Of course, my lady."

All through the long weeks of Ryan's convalescence Carissa had locked away the pain of her betrayal. Now it
ate at her. She waited impatiently for a reply to her telegrams. One she had sent to McKay, hoping that he
knew where to find the Rat. The other had gone to Alyssa's townhouse on the chance that the Rat was staying
with his queen. It was three days before she received a reply. Three days during which she hoped that Ryan
would not wake because she did not know how to face her. If only Blake had lied…

McKay open the door before Carissa even had a chance to knock. He pulled her into a warm hug and then
stepped back, a bit embarrassed at his fulsomeness. "How are you, my dear?"

Carissa smiled warmly. "Well enough, Ian. Some days are better than others."

"Aye, life is like that."

"I never thanked you for your part in my rescue."

"There… you don't need to say anything. We are kin, you and I. I'm of your blood. If you ever need me…"

"Thank you, Ian. You know the same goes for me. I…"

"It's…" McKay looked away embarrassed to have said so much. "The Rat should be here soon. Do you want me
to stay or go?"

"I need to speak with him alone, but do you know anything about him, Ian? Is he someone whom I can trust?"

"He's a forger of some skill. He helps some of these poor souls get jobs by forging references for them. I've sent a
couple of girls to him myself. This I knew about him before I learned he's a vampire, Carissa, but I've heard
other things since."

"Like what?"

"He's one of Alyssa's chief supporters. He keeps the worst of her people in line. They're afraid of him."

"He's one of her bully boys then?"

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"No, not that. Oh, he's strong enough, though you wouldn't know it to look at him. But he keeps the young
ones from feeding indiscriminately or from preying on the poor. If someone makes a new vampire and can't
control him, the Rat's the one to bring him in line, and if he won't learn quickly, then the Rat unmakes him and
sometimes the one who sired him as well."

"That's not such a bad thing, Ian."

"No, it's not. That must be him now," McKay said as he headed toward the door. "I'll leave you to talk to him,
but I won't be far."

Carissa smiled at McKay's protectiveness. She went over to the piano while the Rat and McKay exchanged
greetings. The yellowed ivory keys brought back memories of nights spent listening to Reesha perform here
among her friends. Carissa held the memory close, savoring both the joy and the sorrow of it. Even this she had
Ryan to thank for. She would have never met Reesha, never known her love, if it hadn't been for Ryan.

"Lady Wolf?" the Rat asked.

Carissa turned and looked at the small gray man. He certainly didn't look like an enforcer. His face was
weathered and seamed and marred by pox. His body was slight, and he stood stooped as many of the poor did
who had not received sufficient nourishment. At first glance, he was remarkably ugly. In some ways, he was
the exact opposite of Blake who was so fair of face and had such mad eyes, for although the Rat was ugly, his
eyes held a keen intelligence. Carissa caught his gaze and measured the strength she saw there. "Please call me
Carissa. Do you have some other name besides Rat? It—"

"It's been a long time since I've been anything else, but once I was called Donal."

Carissa smiled and indicated that the Rat should sit. "I wanted to thank you for your help in my rescue, Donal."

"You're welcome, but in all honesty, I had my own reasons for coming after Blake."

Carissa nodded acknowledgment. "Right now, honesty is very important to me."

The Rat nodded gravely, surprised that Carissa could look him in the eye. "You have some questions for me,
m'la… Carissa?"

"Blake said some things… I know I cannot trust anything he said, and yet… and yet what he told me rings
true. I was hoping that you might be able to help me measure the truth of his words."

"I'll tell you what I can, but you know that what I say will also be colored by my self-interest."

"And what is your interest, Donal? Why did you agree to see me tonight?"

"My interest is in protecting Alyssa. I want to know if you blame her for what happened."

"Blake told me that Ryan had manipulated Alyssa into sending for him. Is that true?"

"Aye, it's true. Ryan deliberately let Alyssa think that she had come back here to displace her, and I helped
Ryan plant those seeds. Alyssa knows she cannot defeat Ryan, so she felt compelled to send for the only one she
thought could destroy Ryan."

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"Her sire."

"Exactly. But once she had sent her messengers, I advised Ryan to disarm the situation so that Alyssa could
remain neutral when Blake showed up. And once Alyssa met you, she regretted sending for Blake."

Carissa nodded. "So all of this began before Ryan presented me to Alyssa last year?"

"It began long before that, almost eight hundred years ago."

"Yes, I know. Ryan told me how Blake made her and used her, and Blake himself told me how he destroyed
Ryan's clan. I understand why Ryan needed to unmake him. What I don't understand is how she could have
used me as she did. Tell me, Donal, do you know how Alyssa was made? Blake hinted that Ryan was
responsible for that as well."

"Aye, she was. Do you know who Alyssa is?"

"Trisk told me she was the daughter of the Earl of Northumberland."

The Rat nodded. "He was an ambitious man, the earl. When Alyssa's mother died, he sent her off to a convent
to be raised all proper like. And then Henry VIII had a son, an heir, and the earl thought it would be a grand
thing if his daughter were the next queen."

"The prince was an infant and Alyssa was how old?"

"Well, that's the way things went in those days. Alyssa was about eleven when her father started his plotting. I
don't know enough about politics to know if he ever had a chance of getting her betrothed to the prince, but
when she was sixteen, he sent for her all fresh from the convent. She was innocent, you know. She knew
nothing of the world or of men."

"Or of women."

"Nor of women, no. But she had all sorts of romantic nonsense stuffed in her head by the nuns. Not too
practical, they weren't."

"What happened?"

"The earl sent a fair escort to bring his daughter home, but that didn't stop the highwaymen from attacking the
carriage. And there rode this romantic figure to the rescue. Actually, I think the earl's soldiers could have driven
them off, but Ryan rode them down and killed the leader, and they all ran away after that. Of course, Alyssa
thought Ryan the most daring of heroes."

"And Ryan seduced her?"

"Actually, no. She brought her home all properly and began courting in the manner of the time. The earl was in
a bit of a quandary. He wasn't letting his daughter marry a mere Scottish lord, no matter how rich Lord Wolf
was, but he couldn't exactly send Ryan away since she'd rescued Alyssa. The earl, he wasn't a happy man at all
'cause Alyssa was quite smitten with Lord Wolf. And Ryan was acting the fool for her, sending musicians to
serenade her and all sorts of silly courtship things."

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"It doesn't sound much like Ryan to act like that, no matter how attracted she was to Alyssa. Since she had
entry to the earl's home, she could have climbed in Alyssa's window any night she wanted."

"Ahhh, but Ryan wasn't interested in Alyssa. She knew Blake was in the district, but he had eluded her for
months. She hunted him up and down the coast of England, and always, he slipped away. I think he was
playing with Ryan, enjoying leading her on a chase. So Ryan decided to change tactics. She set a trap—"

"And Alyssa was the bait," Carissa said with resignation. "What happened?"

"Well, it piqued Blake's interest, Ryan's courtship of Lady Alyssa. So sure enough, he came out of hiding. But
he'd had centuries playing these games. Ryan sent Alyssa a note to meet her one night. She knew the girl
would come."

"And Blake learned of the tryst?"

"Ryan made sure Blake knew of the tryst. She bribed several of the earl's servants to make sure Blake knew,
and she arranged what she thought was a foolproof trap for Blake."

"But Blake eluded her?"

"Neither Alyssa nor Blake showed up that night. Alyssa never received Ryan's note. Ryan didn't know that
Blake was a welcome associate of the earl. He had entry to both the earl's palace and his townhouse in London.
He came openly to his host's home and seduced his daughter under his roof. Blake paid even bigger bribes then
Ryan did, so he knew exactly when to strike."

"I take it he used more than his charm to seduce Alyssa."

"Ach, yes. She was a complete innocent. She had no defenses against someone like him. He took her will and
her maidenhood. When she snuck out of her father's house, it was to meet Blake, not Ryan. But Blake left
Ryan's note as evidence to make the earl think Alyssa had eloped with Lord Wolf, so Ryan was chased all the
way back to Scotland by the earl's men."

"When did Blake make Alyssa?"

"He kept her as a pet for several years. I'm not sure when he actually made her. I don't think Alyssa knows
herself. Her memories of that time are rather blurred. Blake preferred his women very compliant."

Carissa shuddered. "And then he discarded her?"

"Eventually he lost interest in her, but he didn't just discard her. He wanted an ally against Ryan. He wanted a
thorn in her side. So Blake set Alyssa up in a house here in Edinburgh so that whenever Ryan came back to her
home, Alyssa would be there as a reminder of her failure. It took more than a century for Alyssa to throw off
the effects of what Blake did to her mind. She learned to fear him even more than she hated Ryan."

"I can understand why she doesn't trust Ryan."

"Aye, she knows how Ryan used her. Although, in all honesty, I don't think Ryan meant for her to get hurt."

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"Just as Ryan didn't mean for me to get hurt."

"Ryan really does love you, you know," the Rat said sadly.

"That makes it all the harder for me to understand how she could put me in such danger without even warning
me."

"By the time she realized what she had with you, Blake already knew of your existence. It would have been
only a matter of time before he hunted you down. He couldn't have allowed her the happiness of having you."

"That may be, Donal, but Ryan could have warned me, prepared me for… She let me think Blake was long
gone, unmade…"

"Do you wonder why I helped Ryan even if it meant deceiving someone I love? Even putting her at risk?" The
Rat looked into Carissa's eyes. "Does it surprise you that I love Alyssa?"

"No, Donal, it doesn't. Alyssa is an admirable woman. But why did you risk her?"

"I was never a handsome man. Back when I was a lad, I sailed the North Sea. I was so nimble on the ratlines
that they called me the Rat. When I was older, I met a lass and won her, and we had a sweet, beautiful
daughter. And one day, my little Meg caught Blake's eye."

"Oh no."

"She was nothing to him. A quick lay and a snack. My wife died from the grief, and I hunted him for years and
years. When I finally caught him, he just laughed at me. He didn't even know who I was talking about. I knew
I couldn't hurt him as a human, so I deliberately found a vampire to change me, but even as a vampire, I didn't
have the strength to fight Blake."

The Rat looked Carissa directly in the eye. "I've waited four hundred years to have my revenge on the monster
who killed my child, and it didn't matter who I used to get it. I learned that Alyssa was of Blake's making, and
my first thought was to have my revenge on the man by killing her. But it didn't take me long to realize that it
wouldn't matter a rat's ass to Blake of I unmade his creation. Alyssa was no more to him than my daughter had
been. But Ryan, Blake truly cared what happened to Ryan. Ryan is the one woman in Blake's entire history
that he could not subvert. I truly think he feared her as much as he hated her. I knew Ryan was the only one
with the strength and cunning to destroy Blake for me. So she became my weapon. And what could be more
fitting than for me to use a weapon of Blake's own making to destroy him? You can blame me for all of this if
you like."

"I understand why you needed… justice. I killed my lover's murderer with my bare hands. I can even
understand why Ryan needed to destroy Blake. What I can't understand is putting someone you love in
jeopardy for revenge."

"Then I hope you never do, m'lady."

Carissa closed her eyes and took a deliberate breath. "Who told you about Alyssa's making? Did she?"

"Actually, both Ryan and Alyssa have told me the story, and they both tell it the same way."

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"Then I have my answers. Thank you, Donal."

"Do you hold Alyssa to blame for her part in sending for Blake? Is she your enemy?"

"No…No, she is not to blame. Tell her… tell Alyssa I will come to see her soon. I would like to move to
Edinburgh to be closer to my work, and I will come see Alyssa to see if we can come to an agreement about my
living in her domain."

"What about Ryan?"

"Ryan… Ryan can do whatever she wants. That is her own business." Carissa closed her eyes against the pain of
her certainty. As revenge had not brought her any relief from the guilt of Reesha's death, so the truth had not
brought her any relief from the pain of Ryan's betrayal.

"Goodnight, Donal. Thank you for your honesty."

"Goodnight, m'lady. I will pass on your message."

Ryan woke slowly well past sunset. She wasn't sure how long she lay healing. She had broken memories of
Carissa and Clywd both feeding her. Their blood had helped her heal, but it had been slow, very slow. Now,
finally, Ryan felt her heart beating strongly in her chest, bringing nourishment to the rest of her body. She was
very weak as yet, but that would mend quickly now.

"You're awake," Carissa said as she came in bearing a tray. There was a bottle of wine and two glasses, and
Ryan smiled.

"How long have I been ill?"

"Almost two months now." Ryan looked startled. "If I could have removed the splinters sooner, you would have
healed much quicker. I think I want to study medicine at some time, Ryan."

"I'm sure you would make an excellent doctor, my dove, but classes do tend to be given during the day."

Carissa shrugged as she opened the wine. She had worked hard over the last week to steel herself for this
encounter, and her hand shook only slightly as she poured the wine.

"Shall we drink to victory, my love?" Ryan asked. She was not strong enough yet, but how she longed to make
love to this woman.

"Actually, Ryan, I've come to say good-bye. You are well enough now that the servants can take care of you.
You should be strong enough to hunt in a week or so. You don't need me anymore."

"Good-bye? But why? I… I may not need you to heal me anymore, but that does not mean I don't need you,
Carissa."

"You will just have to get on without me."

"Why?"

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"Because you used me. From the very beginning you planned this, didn't you? Even before we reached
Edinburgh. I was to be the bait to draw Blake into your trap." Carissa spoke with no bitterness, but with infinite
sadness.

"Carissa, please, you know how very much I care for you. I love you. I have said those words to only one other
woman in my whole existence. I love you."

"You choose strange ways to show it, Ryan. Tell me, tell me honestly, when you made me, wasn't it in the back
of your mind that you could use me to snare Blake?"

Ryan thought of lying but knew Carissa would see it in her eyes. "Yes, yes, it was, and I am not proud of that.
But I came to love you. I never meant for Blake to… to hurt you as he did. I saw… I saw what he did to you—"

"You didn't see anything," Carissa said with quiet intensity. "Those needles through my flesh, they were as a
pinprick compared to the pain I felt. But it wasn't Blake who pierced my heart, Ryan, it was you. You wouldn't
even have used one of your servants as you used me. You told me once it was Glyn's betrayal that you felt all
those years, not the stones they used to break your body. That is what I felt as I lay there those three days—the
realization that you had used me as bait with no more concern than an angler uses a worm."

"That is not true, Carissa. If you knew the fear, the pain, I felt those days, anxious to find you. I never meant for
Blake to capture you. That was never part of my plan. I'm sorry, my love, I am very sorry. I planned to send
you away to safety, but I waited too long. I—"

"Send me away?" Carissa shook her head. "Ryan, don't you understand any of this? Do you think I would have
refused to help you had you but asked? Do you think I would not have endured even this for you? I loved you
with my whole heart from the very first time you took me. I would have given you anything, anything at all.
But you took. You always take. Is it so hard to ask? You let me go out there not knowing the danger. I had to
face Blake unprepared, ignorant."

"I made a mistake, and I tried to undo it, but it was too late. I left it too late, and I will forever blame myself for
that, Carissa. You are right, I meant to use you from the very beginning, but when I realized that I loved you—
"

"It was over a year from the night you first told me you loved me till Blake kidnapped me, and in all that time,
you could not have warned me about Blake? What of the night you told me how he had made you? I could see
what a monster he was. Didn't you think I could understand your need for revenge then? I had just killed John
McDermott in revenge for Reesha, and you did not think I would understand your need to unmake the
monster who murdered your clan? And when you were explaining to me Alyssa's distrust of you, why didn't
you bother telling me that you had used her as bait too? That you are the reason Blake made her?"

"Who told you that?"

"Blake did."

"And you believed him?"

"I didn't know what to believe, so I asked the Rat. He told me that you courted Alyssa simply because you
wanted to bring Blake out into the open. Did he lie Ryan? Please, Ryan, please tell me he lied." Carissa begged,

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still hoping.

Ryan closed her eyes and sighed. "No, he didn't lie. I used her. I used you. I never claimed to be a saint, Carissa.
I never claimed to be the hero of some romance novel. Vampires aren't nice people, and I am what I am. You
knew that from the beginning. I never hid it from you. But you have changed me. You taught me to love
again, to care again."

Carissa's voice was husky with the tears she could not shed. Until she heard Ryan confirm her betrayal, some
part of her still hoped. Now that hope died too. "I will not be used, Ryan, not even by you. My things are
packed. I'm leaving shortly. Timothy and Nora are coming with me, but I will send the carriage back."

"No, keep it. Take whatever you want."

"I can't have the only thing I really want," Carissa said sadly.

"Why then did you heal me?" Ryan asked in anguish, and she could hear the defeat in her own voice.

"If you have to ask…" Carissa sighed. "Consider our accounts balanced now. Be well, Ryan."

Ryan closed her eyes, not wanting to watch Carissa leave. She told herself Carissa would come back, but in her
heart, she knew she would not.

It had taken over seven hundred years for Ryan to open her heart to another woman. Now she had lost her as
well. Ryan lay in bed for hours letting the waves of pain wash over her until the hard shell closed once more
over the wound that was her heart.


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