The sound of her own voice sent Rashel spinning out of the light.
It was as if she were emerging from deep water- from one world into another. Or as if she were
re-entering her own body. For a moment everything was confusion, and Rashel wasn't sure of where she
was or how she was positioned... and then she felt her arms and legs and saw yellow light. Lamplight.
She was in an upstairs room in a mansion on a private island, and Quinn was holding her.
They had somehow ended up on the floor, half kneeling, half supported by the wall, their arms around
each other, Rashel's head on his shoulder. She had no idea when he'd stopped biting her. She also had
no idea how much time had passed.
She coughed a little, shaken by what had just happened. That other place, with the light-it still seemed
more real than the hard shiny boards of the floor underneath her and the white walls of the room. But it
also seemed encased in its own reality. Like a dream. She didn't know if they would ever be able to get
back there again.
"Quinn?" He was Quinn again. Not John.
"Yes."
"Do you know what happened? I mean, do you understand it?"
"I think," he said, and his voice was gentle and precise, "that sharing blood can strengthen a telepathic
bond. I've always been able to block it out when I fed before, but..." He didn't finish.
"But it happened that other time. Or something like it happened. When I first met you."
"Yes. Well. Well, I think it's... there's something called..." He gave up and resorted to nonverbal
communication. There's something called the soulmate principle. I've never believed in it. I've laughed at
people who talked about it. I would have bet my life that-
"What is it, Quinn?" Rashel had heard of it, too, especially recently. But it wasn't something from her
world, and she wanted a Night Person to explain.
It's the idea that everyone has one and just one soul-mate in the world, and that if you find them, you
recognize them immediately. And... well, that's that.
"But it's not supposed to happen between humans and Night People. Right?"
There are some people who think that it is happening-now-for some reason-especially between humans
and Night People. The Redferns seem to be getting it in particular. There was a pause, then Quinn said
aloud, "I should probably apologize to some of them, actually." He sounded bemused.
Rashel sat up, which was difficult. She didn't want to let go of Quinn. He kept hold of her fingers, which
helped a little.
He looked more mussed than he had down near the wharf, his neat hair disordered, his eyes large and
dark and dazed. She met his gaze directly. "You think we're soulmates?"
"Well." He blinked. "Do you have a better explanation?"
"No." She took a breath. "Do you still want to make me a vampire?"
He stared at her, and something flamed and then fell in pain in his eyes. For an instant he looked as if
she'd hit him-then all she could see was regret. "Oh, Rashel" In one motion he caught her and held her.
His face was pressed to her hair. She could feel him breathing like some stricken creature-and then she
felt him regain control, grabbing discipline from somewhere, wrapping himself in it. He rested his chin on
her head. "I'm sorry you have to ask that, but I understand. I don't want to make you a vampire. I want-"
I want you to be what you were two minutes ago. That happy, that idealistic....
He sounded as if it were something that had been lost forever.
But Rashel felt a new happiness, and a new confidence. He had changed. She could sense how much he
had changed already. They were in the real world, and he wasn't raving about needing to kill her, or her
needing to kill him.
"I just wanted to be sure," she said. She tightened her own arms around him. "I don't know what's going
to happen-but as long as we're right together, I think I can face it."
I think we live or die together from now on, Quinn said simply.
Yes, Rashel thought. She could still feel lingering sadness in Quinn, and confusion in herself, but they
were right together. She didn't need to doubt him anymore.
They trusted each other.
"We have to do something about the people downstairs," she said.
"Yes."
"But we can't kill them."
"No. There's been enough killing. It has to stop." Quinn sounded like a swimmer who'd been tumbling in
a riptide, and whose feet had finally found solid ground.
Rashel sat up to look at him. "But we can't just let them walk out of here. What if they try it again? I
mean, whoever set this bloodfeast up..." She suddenly realized that she had asked everybody else, but
not him. "Quinn, who did set this up?"
He smiled, a faint echo of his old savage smile. Now it was grim and self-mocking. "I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"Some vampire who wanted to get the made
vampires together. But I've never met him. Lily was the go-between, but I'm not sure she knows either.
She only spoke to him on the phone. Neither of us asked a lot of questions. We were doing it for the
money." He said it flatly, not sparing himself.
And to be rebellious, Rashel thought. To be as bad and as damned as possible, because you figured you
might as well. She said, "Whoever it is might just go somewhere else and find somebody else to get his
slaves for him. Those seven guys could be having a new bloodfeast next month."
"That has to be stopped, too," Quinn said. "How to stop it without violence, that's the question." His
fingers were still tight on Rashel's, but he was staring into the distance, lost in grim and competent
thought.
It was a new side of Quinn. Rashel had seen him in almost every mood from despairing to manic, but she
had never worked with him before. Now she realized that he was going to make a strong and resourceful
ally.
Suddenly Quinn seemed to focus.
"I've got it," he said. He smiled suddenly, mocking but without the bitterness. "When violence won't
work, there's no other choice but to try persuasion."
"That's not funny."
"It's not meant to be."
"You're going to say, 'Please don't kill any more young girls'?"
"I'm going to say, 'Please don't kill any more
young girls or I'll report you to the Joint Council.' Listen, Rashel." He took her by the arms, his eyes
flashing with excitement. "I have some authority in the Night World-I'm the Redfern heir. And Hunter
Redfern has more. Between us, we can make all kinds of trouble for these made vampires." "But Fayth-a
friend of mine-said they were all so powerful." In the intensity of the moment, Rashel almost missed the
fact that she'd just called Fayth her friend.
Quinn was shaking his head. "No, you have to understand. These aren't rogues, they're Night World
citizens. And what they're doing is completely illegal. You can't just kill a bunch of girls from one area
without permission. Slavery's illegal, bloodfeasts are illegal. And no matter how powerful they are, they
can't stand up against the Night World Council." "But-"
"We threaten them with exposure to the Council. With exposure to Hunter Redfern-and to the lamia.
The lamia will go crazy at the thought of made vampires getting together in some kind of alliance. They'll
take it as a threat of civil war."
It might work, Rashel was thinking. The made vampires were just individuals-they'd be up against whole
lamia families. Especially against the Redfern family, the oldest and most respected clan
of vampires. "Everybody's scared of Hunter Redfern," she said slowly.
"He's got tremendous influence. He practically owns the Council. He could run them out of the Night
World if he wanted. I think they'll listen."
"You really do think of him as a father, don't you?" Rashel said, her voice soft. She searched Quinn's
eyes. "Whatever you say about hating him-you respect him."
"He's not as bad as most. He has... honor, I guess. Usually."
And he's a New Englander, Rashel thought. That means he's against vice. She considered another
moment, then she nodded. Her heart was beating fast, but she could feel a smile breaking on her face.
"Let's try persuasion."
They stood-and then they paused a moment, looking at each other. We're strong, Rashel thought. We've
got unity. If anyone can do this, we can.
She picked up her knife almost absent-mindedly. It was a piece of art, a valued possession, and she
didn't want to lose it.
They walked down the stairs side by side. Music was still blasting from the gathering room at the end of
the hall. It hadn't been that long, Rashel realized. The whole world had changed since she'd been in this
hallway-but somehow it had all happened in minutes.
Now, Quinn said silently before they went in. There shouldn't be any danger-/ don't think they'll be
stupid enough to attack me-but be alert anyway.
Rashel nodded. She felt cool and businesslike, and she thought she was perfectly rational. It was only
later that she realized they had walked into the room like little lambs into the tiger's lair, still dizzy and
reeling from the discovery of love.
Quinn went in first and she could hear voices stop as he did. Then she was walking through the door,
into that ruddy flickering room with shadows dancing on the walls.
And there they were again, those handsome young guys who looked like a TV-series ensemble. They
were looking at Quinn with various expressions of interest and surprise. When they saw her, the
expressions sharpened to pleasure and inquiry. "Hey, Quinn!" "Hi there, Quinn."
"So you've arrived at last. You've kept us waiting long enough." That from the dark one who was