Sarafina rose at dusk, an empty, hollow feeling in her chest. She kept reliving the touch of Willem's lips on her flesh every time she closed her eyes, and she kept telling herself not to allow such flights of fancy. It was completely unlike her.
She took her time in a deep, hot bath. Then more time as she dressed in her favorite style, that of the old days. A white peasant blouse that left her shoulders bare, full flowing skirts, scarves trailing from her hair and her waist, and so much jewelry she jangled when she moved. Then she went to the kitchen to consult with Misty and Edward about the evening's plans. Part of her was longing to go looking for Willem. Just to see him from a distance and assure herself that he really was all right-untouched by her efforts to control him. She should check on those girls, as well, she thought, though deep down, she knew that Willem was not a threat to them. But before she even began to speak to her servants, there was a crash near the front of the house.
For one insane instant, Sarafina's heart performed giddy acrobatics at the thought that Willem had returned, come back to her-of his own will this time.
But it faded before she could even bother to chide herself for such an idiotic thought, much less that little rush of joy that had accompanied it, because she sensed, very clearly, the new presence in her home. And it wasn't Willem.
It was another vampire, one vibrating with anger, quite possibly murderous with rage.
Sarafina glanced at her pets. "Go. Out the back door-quickly. Get as far from here as you can. Do you understand? Hide yourselves in the woods, and don't come back until I've summoned you."
"But, my lady-"
"Go!" she commanded.
The two obediently scurried through the kitchen and out the back door. Sarafina watched them move out of sight, then swept through the house into the living room.
The woman stood at the base of the staircase, some sort of green weeds clinging to her damp hair and her skintight black velvet dress. The dress was dripping a bit. A tiny green-tinted puddle had formed around her feet. Mud was smeared over her hands and cheeks. Her straight black hair reminded Sarafina of her long-dead sister, Katerina, and a surge of bitter hatred rose up in her belly.
At the woman's side, a black panther sat on its haunches, as the woman's dagger-tipped fingers stroked its head.
"You must be Sarafina," the woman said. "I am Rhiannon."
"I don't really care who you are. I would be interested to know, however, why you dare smash a hole through my front door, enter my home without my consent and proceed to drip that sewage all over my floors."
"Oh, you'd be surprised what I dare," Rhiannon said. "You have a lot to answer for, vampiress."
"Are you suggesting I should answer to you?"
"It's not a suggestion."
Sarafina laughed, tipping her head back so her many pairs of earrings rang against each other. Rhiannon lunged across the room, gripping her around her nape, her motion little more than a blur of speed. Leaning into Fina's face, the woman whispered, "You attacked and abducted the man who'd been hired to protect Amber Lily Bryant-the person I treasure most in the universe, and the only child ever born to a vampiress."
Sarafina held her temper, but it simmered dangerously near the surface. ' 'You have your facts skewed, woman. I took a man, yes. At Amber Lily's request."
"And because of it, Amber Lily has been taken by the vampire hunters!"
"Take your hand from my neck, bitch."
"Tell me where that man is," Rhiannon demanded.
"I don't know where he is, and I wouldn't tell you if I did."
"Liar!"
Sarafina pressed her palms to the woman's chest and shoved her-hard. Rhiannon flew across the room, hitting the wall so hard she put a hole in the plaster. Paintings crashed to the floor. Rhiannon shook herself and lunged at Sarafina, hitting her like a wrecking ball, and the two fell to the floor, cracking the floorboards, rolling as they pounded and tore at each other.
Sarafina wound up on top. Rhiannon grabbed her by her hair, jerking her head back, then delivered a blow to her face. Sarafina was flung backward again, airborne at first, only to land hard on the floor. She scrambled to her feet, sending a quick glance toward the cat, fully expecting it to pounce and tear her to bits.
But it only stood off to one side, pacing, agitated, its eyes following every move as its tail swished and quivered.
Sarafina attacked again.
She fought for her life, blocking Rhiannon's powerful blows when she could, taking them when she couldn't, and delivering plenty of her own in return. They'd fallen, locked in combat, onto the coffee table, demolishing it, when Sarafina became aware of her servants, just around the corner in the next room.
She'd told them to leave. By God, they'd disobeyed her orders! She pushed Rhiannon off her and spun toward them, saw them huddling over a small black billfold. Willem's. What the hell did they think they were doing, and why had they kept it when she'd told them to send it back?
A chair smashed across her back, knocking her to her knees.
She came up fast, flipping Rhiannon over her shoulder to the floor, kicking her in the head and then in the ribcage, which sent her skidding across the floor. Sarafina followed and went to kick her again, but this time Rhiannon grabbed her by the ankle and hurled her across the room. Her head hit the banister, snapping it in two, and her entire body screamed in pain. Above her, she saw the chandelier swinging dangerously.
"They'll kill each other!" Misty cried. "Here's the number. The phone, Edward, hurry! We have to get help!"
Will woke by noon, picked up his car from the hotel garage and drove almost aimlessly, watching the tracking monitor and praying he would get within range of the girls and the light would come on. He stopped twice to eat, each time making it a high protein meal. He thought it was helping. He was starting to feel more like himself by the time night fell again.
He'd tried Bryant's number several more times, even though he knew the man wouldn't be likely to answer during the day. He figured there might be a housekeeper or an answering service-something. Still, he'd had no luck whatsoever by the time the sun went down again, and he was beginning to wonder if his employer and his subjects had vanished from the face of the earth.
And then his car phone bleated softly.
He grabbed it up, pushed the on button and ignored New York State's "no cell phone use while driving" law. For some reason he was almost hoping to hear Sarafina's voice on the other end in reply to his terse "Stone." In fact, every few minutes, it seemed, some longing for her sprang up in his belly. In spite of the job he had to do.
"Willem. You have to come back. Hurry!"
He frowned at the vaguely familiar voice before recognition kicked in. "Edward?"
"Yes. A woman is here. One like the Mistress. They're fighting."
Will dismissed the little skip in his heartbeat. "Right. This is some kind of a trick to get me to come back, right? Where is she? Let me speak to her."
"They're killing each other, Willem. We don't know who else to call!"
There was scuffling, and then Misty's voice came on. "Please, Willem, you have to come!" She was crying into the phone now, and Will could hear the sounds in the background.
Crashes, shattering glass, pounding, thudding-violent sounds. There was a grunt of pain, a yelp, a restrained cry, a string of cuss words. He recognized Sarafina's voice, along with that of another woman, and the bottom fell out of his stomach. "Jesus."
"Please hurry! It's you this stranger wants. It's you! She's killing our lady-because of you! Please-"
"All right, all right. I'm coming." He was spinning the car around and hitting the gas even as he said it. His brain told him it was idiotic. He'd been away from that place for only a day. It was insane to go back. But the rest of him couldn't get there fast enough-and not only because this woman who was asking about him might be a clue to helping him track down the girls. Because Sarafina was in trouble-she was in pain, fighting for her life, maybe-and he couldn't bear the thought of it. Everything in him wanted to be there to help her, to protect her.
Right. That made as much sense as wanting to protect a hungry wolf.
She didn't need his protection. And just what the hell he was going to do when he got there, he didn't know. A woman "like the Mistress," Edward had said. Did that mean this visitor, this attacker, was another vampire? What the hell was he going to do with two of them?
He veered through traffic, blasting his horn, and when he finally hit a clear stretch, he yanked open the glove compartment, pulled out his handgun, checked the clip. He wasn't going to face them empty-handed, that was for damn sure. And while a bullet might not kill one of them, he figured it would at least slow her down a little bit.
When he arrived at Sarafina's palacelike home, the front gate was open. It needn't have been. The hedge through which he had crawled to escape had been reduced to mulch, apparently because a Mercedes had driven straight through it. The car was currently parked at an angle on the front lawn, the driver's door still open. Will left his own vehicle outside the gate, tucked the keys under the floor mat and got out, sliding the gun into the back of his pants.
He walked at a fast clip, through the flattened hedge, across the lawn, and then along the drive to the wide front steps. The front door was broken, hanging open; light was spilling out.
He slowed his pace then, ready for a trap. Automatically he pulled the gun, holding it in front of him when he moved close enough to see inside.
The room was a shambles, the furniture broken, vases shattered on the floor. Bits of wood from the door and broken glass crunched under his feet as he stepped inside. It didn't look as if a mere fight had happened in this place, it looked as if a hurricane had struck.
Sarafina sat at the foot of the stairs, beside a broken section of the banister. Her upper body was supported by the newel post at the bottom, her head hanging forward, black curls hiding her face. Her blouse was torn, her arms bruised. He took a single step toward her before spotting the cat.
"Holy Christ!" He pivoted left, pointed the gun at the animal, a huge black panther, which looked as if it was about to devour the limp body of the other woman, who sat slumped against the wall.
"Put the gun down, mortal," the strange woman said, her head rising slowly, her voice weak. She had as much long, jet-black hair as Sarafina, but hers was perfectly straight, damp and dirty. "She won't hurt you...unless I tell her to do so." Lifting a hand, she stroked the cat's head.
He lowered the weapon, but only a little, and started across the room toward Sarafina, keeping one eye on the animal. ' 'If it takes a step toward me, lady, it's history."
"Willem?" At the sound of his voice, Sarafina sat up slowly, as if it hurt to move. There was a nasty bruise on one side of her face.
"Jesus, what the hell happened here?" He stuffed the gun into his pants and hurried to her, the cat all but forgotten. God, why did it make his gut lurch to see her hurt this way? Why did he feel like scooping her into his arms, kissing away her pain, and then raining destruction on the person who'd caused it? She was his enemy!
No. She was a part of him, and he knew it. It was stupid to keep denying what he felt for this woman.
He knelt on the lowest step, gathered her to him, helped her to her feet, holding her close as he did. He stroked her hair away from her face. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I think." She leaned against him, stared at him as if not quite believing what she saw. "You came...."
"I had to."
She almost smiled, seemed to stop herself, straightened a little, then shot a glance across the room. The other one was getting to her feet now, as well. Sarafina said, "I told you I didn't kill him."
The other one lifted a brow. She, too, was bruised and battered, though it was hard to tell, with the dirt streaks across her face. "You're lucky I didn't kill you."
"If you'd wanted me dead, you'd have let the cat have me."
The other one glanced down at the panther. "Pandora's getting old. I don't let her fight anymore. Just feed her the scraps when I've finished."
Will grimaced, then swore softly.
"You're Willem Stone, I take it?" the stranger asked.
He nodded. "And you're...?"
"I am Rhiannon," she said, and she said it as if she were saying "I'm the Queen of the Universe."
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" He shrugged, glancing at Sarafina and then back at the other one. "Sorry, I'm not up on the whole 'who's who' of the undead, you know?"
Rhiannon scowled at him, but then she went on. "The child you were hired to protect is very dear to me, and thanks to the two of you, she's now in the hands of men more evil than any you've ever encountered."
"Don't be too sure about that, lady. I've encountered a lot of them." Then her words sank in, and Will frowned. "Amber Lily's been taken?"
"Yes. As have her parents and my husband, who went after her.'' She lowered her head with the words.
She was tough, Will thought, but scared half to death for those she loved and trying really hard to hide it. "What about Alicia?" he asked.
"Safe. Amber hid her from them, protected her. We've sent her to safety with her mother for now."
"And do you have any idea where the others are?"
"I don't know, now. These men are not stupid. They left enough clues to lead us to a small town in Connecticut, right into their trap. I should have known better. They could easily have moved them all by now...if they haven't killed them outright."
Sarafina spoke softly. "Except for the girl. They wouldn't kill her."
"They wouldn't even have her, if not for your interference!"
"I told you, I was only trying to protect her!"
"From me," Will said. He looked at Sarafina, standing beside him and met her eyes, wondering why she hadn't simply killed him if she'd honestly been convinced he was capable of harming an innocent girl. Then again, he knew why. There was something between them, a bond that vibrated with energy, even now. Maybe now more than ever. She couldn't hurt him, not really. Not any more than he could hurt her. And while he would like to believe it was just the blood, he knew damn well it was more. It had been more even before they'd met. A lot more.
"Can you take me there?" Will asked.
Rhiannon stared at him, her eyes narrow. ' 'Are you volunteering to help me rescue them?"
"Not volunteering. Protecting those girls is what I was hired to do. I've never failed in a mission yet. I intend to see this one through, just like all the others."
Sarafina faced him, her hands clasping his shoulders. "Will, these are powerful men. You could be killed."
"As I said, just like all my other missions. It's part of my job description, Fina. Always was, anyway, until the last one."
She looked down at his leg, the walking cane he held.
"Don't think this is that big a handicap," he told her. "It didn't stop me from getting the best of you, did it?"
She looked away. "Your talent as a liar far outweighed it."
She resented his lying to her, his acting job. That was probably a good sign.
"We need to go now," Rhiannon said. "Already an entire day has passed, and I'm not sure how we'll ever find them if they've moved."
Sarafina looked at her. "You'll want a change of clothes. So will I, before we go."
"We? You think I want help from you after what you've done?"
"No," Sarafina said. "You're far too stubborn and arrogant to want my help. But you need it, otherwise you wouldn't have come here. Come upstairs. It will only take a moment." She turned and limped up the stairs, and Will could almost feel the pain every single step caused her.
Rhiannon moved past Will, holding one arm with the other, as if it hurt to move it. She walked up the stairs behind Sarafina. Halfway up she turned back to Will. "Keep an eye on my cat, mortal."
Beside him, something warm and heavy bumped his leg. He looked down fast, startled, only to see the cat rubbing its head affectionately against his thigh. Were those diamonds on that sparkling collar? He closed his eyes, gave his head a quick shake. He'd entered the Twilight Zone, and he didn't think he'd be leaving it anytime soon.
What the hell, when in Rome...
He patted the cat on its head. It pushed back against his hand, and he could have sworn it purred.
Sarafina jerked a few things out of her closet, tossing them to the bed as Rhiannon walked into the room behind her.
"The bathroom's through there, if you want to wash up. You look as if you spent the day in a mud-hole."
"A swamp, actually," Rhiannon said, grabbing one of the dresses from the bed and carrying it with her through to the bathroom.
She didn't close the door. Sarafina heard the water running as she stripped off her torn blouse and pulled on another much like it, then changed the skirt and drew out a few fresh scarves.
Water splashed as Rhiannon quickly washed up. Then she stepped out of the shower, wiping off with a towel and reaching for the clothes. The door was still open, and she wasn't the least bit embarrassed as she pulled the dress over her head.
"So what is between you and the mortal?" she asked as she pulled her long hair free and reached for a brush.
"What do you mean?"
Rhiannon turned, tugging the brush through her hair. "He's not one of us. And he's not one of The Chosen."
"Being neither stupid nor blind, I'm aware of that."
"Then what the hell are you doing with him?"
"I don't know...that it's any of your business, Rhiannon." She'd blurted the answer too quickly, tacked on the last to save face, though she was certain Rhiannon had seen right through it.
"He'll grow old," Rhiannon said. "He'll die. You won't."
"I might. One never knows." She fastened her skirt, stepped into a pair of flat shoes for easy running.
"If I devour him when we finish with him, it would save you a great deal of trouble," Rhiannon said.
Sarafina spun on her. "If you dare to touch him-"
"I knew it! You're in love with a mortal! By the Gods, woman, do you have any idea the kind of pain you're inviting?"
"I am not in love with anyone," Sarafina said. She headed for the door.
"Hell, I may not need to tear you limb from limb when this is over," Rhiannon muttered, following her. "He'll hurt you more than I could ever do."
The arrogant bitch was right about that, Sarafina thought. It was exactly the reason she'd vowed long ago never to love again. But she hadn't broken that vow. On that, at least, the vampiress was wrong. She didn't love Willem Stone.
She didn't.