

### Amaranth

### Rachael Wade

Also by Rachael Wade

The Resistance Trilogy:

Amaranth, Book 1

The Gates, Book 2

The Tragedy of Knowledge, Book 3

The Preservation Series:

Love and Relativity

(Featuring Carter and Whitney from the Preservation Series)

Preservation - Preservation, Book 1

Reservation - Preservation, Book 2

Declaration – Preservation, Book 3 (2013)

The Keepers Trilogy:

Repossession, Book 1 (2013)

Restitution, Book 2 (2014)

Restoration, Book 3 (2015)

Praise for Amaranth

" _A beautifully written story about love, sacrifice, and friendship that has a lot of fun twists and turns."_

-Seeing Night Reviews

" _As wonderful and enchanting as its beautiful cover..."_

-Shadow Kisses Reviews

"... _a new, exciting, and riveting tale of love and loss. The part that really stood out for me was that it is not just about fighting for your love, your soul mate, but it was about redemption of an entire clan so to speak."_

-Alchemy of Annes Anomalies Reviews

" _...I was hooked from the first chapter. I just wanted to step into the dark, dangerous world of Amaranth."_

-Fiction Fascination Book Reviews

" _A fantastic journey from beginning to end."_

-Gothic Angel Book Reviews

"... _far from 'just another vampire book.' "_

-Live to Read Book Reviews

" _Amaranth was in NO way a direction that my mind EVER would have gone. Talk about beautifully written, Rachael built a world that is absolutely stunning!"_

-Taking it One Book at a Time Reviews

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Copyright 2011 Rachael Wade

Smashwords Edition

Rabbit Hole Press

Orlando, Florida

www.RachaelWade.com

Cover Design: Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

Editor: Arlene Robinson

DEDICATION

To anyone looking for answers. Knowledge is both a blessing and a curse. Be prepared to commit.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book would not have been possible without:

Dave, my loyal and (sometimes) patient rock and soul mate, who never seems to waver despite the rain. Your support knows no bounds. Thank you for being the most faithful, trustworthy person I've ever met. It's a privilege to stand by your side. My life will never be the same since I met you. You are forever the Apollo to my Starbuck. So say we all!

My best friend, mentor, and soul doppelganger, Pat. I don't know where I'd be without your compassion and your support. The Pacific Northwest horizon knows our hearts, friend, where I'm certain it keeps them beating in its whimsical heavens. We left some of ourselves in the mountains, so we can smell the pine, see the valleys, and watch the whales sail around the bend whenever we'd like. Thank you for teaching me about perfection, judgment, and learning to let go.

Arlene, my editor, who I am indebted to. Without whose eyes I would have been blind, and whose natural feel for storytelling helped shape and guide every inch of this first installment.

The readers: Wherever you hail from, no matter how small your numbers, thank you for taking a portion out of your time to give this book a chance to entertain you. I love you to the moon.

And last but certainly not least, God, who removed the blindfold in more ways than one. Written thanks aren't necessary, but credit is most certainly due.
1. Rendezvous

2. Undead

3. The Truth Shall Set You Free

4. Birth

5. Supplement for the Wreckage

6. La Bise

7. Tis Always Morning Somewhere in the World

8. Case of the Mondays

9. Paradox

10. Confrontation

11. Unveiled

Amaranth

12. It's My Party and I'll Cry if I Want to

13. Humanity

14. Inverted

15. Threshold

16. Fight or Flight

17. Noble

18. Vagabond

Epilogue

1

RENDEZVOUS

For years I imagined what it must feel like to wake up on a beautifully dark, gloomy February day in the city that stole my heart so long ago. Paris. The city I've always loved and yet had never seen until now, when I at last embarked on my mission to free myself from the mess I left back home. To consider the trip a success, I had to return to the States unrecognizable in spirit. If I went home the same person, there would be hell to pay. I'd already paid enough.

Once dressed, I shrugged on my special coat, one that cost more than I'd ever spend on any piece of clothing again. What it represented to me, no amount of money could buy. It made me feel Parisian. Wearing it, I could be mysterious and beautiful, perhaps even exotic, far from the life that once held me in bondage. _Me and my coat's little secret._ The thought made me laugh aloud.

Cold air rushed through the hotel lobby's doors, stinging my cheeks while people hurried in and out. I stepped outside and did a quick review of my plans for the day, taking the black book from my purse that held all my notes and maps and flipping through the pages. Working on my novel and visiting my list of must-sees were first priority, but part of me didn't want to plan anything my first day. I tossed the black book back into my purse, letting the loose pages fly out into wonderful disarray.

While I waited for a cab, a man in his early twenties passed by me walking his dog, looked me up and down with a grin. I looked away. Whoever said the French are grumpy was wrong. Yet I never liked that sort of attention. Partly because of my shyness, but I also had a knack for attracting only creeps. Like the one I left back home. He loved to beat me to a pulp with his words. Eventually, his anger made its way to my face. That's when I knew it was time to come to Paris. I watched the dog walker stroll away, happy to see a cab arriving.

I instructed the driver to head toward the Louvre, using as much of my two years of French as possible. But when I spotted a chocolaterie, it looked like the perfect spot to bury myself in my Guy de Maupassant novel and crack open my journal.

" _Monsieur? Ici, s'il vous plait."_ I offered a grateful glance toward his reflection in the rearview mirror when I felt the cab begin to slow.

"You can walk to the Louvre from here if you'd like, Mademoiselle," he answered: in English. _"Bonne journée."_

I glanced at the front of the store before I entered, appreciating the building's charming character: the weathered windows and doors, the cracks in the stone walls that looked so perfectly broken, the wood sign above the door that appeared so flawed, so aged — and the empty, frigid terrace, a perfectly secluded area for writing. Minutes later, my first cup of French chocolat in hand, I headed toward the deserted tables outside the shop, struggling to pin my side to the door to push it open. My purse slid off my shoulder and thumped to the ground, spilling my black book with its loose papers everywhere.

I bent to pick up the scattered contents, mindful of my drink in my free hand that it didn't spill. Little bursts of wind sent some of the papers into the cold slush in a flurry, making the writing a runny mess.

That's all I had time to think before something lashed into me, knocking me off balance. I tumbled to the ground with an awkward thud and a wince when I made impact with the concrete, and opened my eyes to find my chocolat splattered all around me. I looked down at my poor magic coat, confused and embarrassed.

A repentant voice boomed, "Oh ma'am, I am so sorry! Here, let me help you with that. I am really sorry, I just ... forgive me?"

A tall, slender guy leaned down to pick up my things and offered his hand to help me stand. Intense dark brown eyes, short tousled brown hair, an earnest face. I smiled and shook my head at him, hoping I didn't look angered by his mishap.

"It's fine," I said. "This is pretty much my life on a daily basis." I pushed my long tangled mess of brown hair away from my face. "Wait. Do I really look old enough to be called ma'am?" I was only twenty-one, for God's sake. I took his hand and stood, brushed my hands on my coat before I looked into his eyes. I felt myself blush.

"Uh, no, I guess not. Just habit, sorry. I wasn't paying attention, so ... again, I apologize for that." His eyes brightened with hopes of redemption.

"Don't worry about it. Thanks for helping me up and everything." I looked down, intimidated by his fierce eyes, although I couldn't look away for long. His pale skin and cheekbones were stunning, and a strange scar above his left eyebrow, out of place among his perfect features, ironically added to his charm. I tried to think of something to say, but the words wouldn't come.

"Okay, well, let me at least get you another drink. Here, sit down." He beat my response, gesturing to the closest table on the wintery terrace.

"No, please, you really don't have to—"

"I want to, really." He kept moving for the door. "It'll take just a second. That looks like it was chocolat. I'll be right back." He darted inside.

Defeated, I slumped onto the chair next to me. I was here to change, after all. I needed to be open, to bend a little. And this guy seemed normal enough. He looked nothing like the bastard I left back in Seattle. But then again, looks can mislead. I contemplated his origin while I lit a cigarette and waited for his return. I wasn't sure, but he sounded American.

"Okay, here we go." He handed me my replacement. I noticed he held two drinks. "Some people think it's a little cold this time of year to be sitting outside like this, by the way. Mind if I join you? We could go inside if you want." He smiled.

"I like it actually. And sure, but please, don't let me keep you. I appreciate the drink though." I sent him a faint smile back.

"The least I could do after knocking you over like that. I _was_ in a hurry, but I found what I was looking for." He studied my face for a moment, then pointed up at the window above the shop, diagonal to where we sat. "A relative of mine lives in the apartment upstairs, but this is my first time visiting her new place. She's not expecting me for a little while anyway. I was frantic to get here. Already managed to get lost twice." He laughed, then sipped his coffee.

I peered up at the elegant apartment front. "This is a great place to live. I bet your family loves it here."

"Yeah, from the little bit I've heard about it, it sounds great." He watched me take a drag off my cigarette.

"I hope the smoke doesn't bother you," I said.

"No. Quit almost a year ago. Sometimes being around it makes me want one, that's all."

"Oh." I nodded, relieved. "In that case, I'd offer you one but I don't want to be a bad influence. A year, that's a long time ... good for you." I took one last puff before I put it out.

"So, you just visiting? What brought you to Paris?" He sat down, wrapped his arms around his chest.

"Yes, visiting." I cleared my throat. "I'm here for my birthday actually, just came on my own. I've wanted to come here since I was a kid, and the timing worked out this year so ... here I am." Technically, the timing was perfect. If I didn't get away when I did, I might've wound up in one of those battered women shelters for my birthday.

"Your birthday, huh? All by yourself? Bit of a loner are we?" he joked. "I mean, I haven't met many people during my visits here who came alone, except maybe on a business trip. Especially not for a birthday." He smiled and often looked down when he spoke, keeping his arms folded against his chest. He seemed genuine. Humble. It was refreshing.

"Just introverted I guess. I don't mind being alone."

"You must be pretty comfortable with silence, then." His eyes bored into mine, like they were suddenly searching for something. "Do you mind me asking what your plans are for the day? That is, if you want any company. Don't mean to intrude."

Did I want to be _this_ open? My journal was sitting there in my bag, waiting for me. I couldn't write if he was around.

"I'm introverted, not antisocial." I gave him a smile, saw his smile in return. I'd put my pen to work later. "I'm headed to the Louvre. After that, I'm not sure."

"I can walk you there if you'd like." He peeled his eyes from mine, lightening the eagerness in his tone.

"As long as I'm not keeping you from your family." I pointed to the window above us.

"You're not." He stood, his face showing pleasure. "It won't take long. I'll walk you there and then head back."

I let him lead the way, this time careful to wrap my purse high on my shoulder and hang onto my drink with both hands.

"So." He turned to grin at me as we began strolling down the sidewalk. "Do you know what you're looking for while you're here?"

"What makes you think I'm looking for something?"

"You have the _look_. The adventurous glint in your eye. The determination in your walk. You're taking the city by storm, braving it all alone, searching for something. The look gives it all away."

While I tucked my hair behind my ear, I allowed a smirk to spread across my face. "What, you psychoanalyzing me?"

"Guess I'm busted."

"I'm from Seattle and needed to get away, clear my head. Lots of drama back home, that's all."

"I know what that's like. You ever consider moving here?"

"What, to Paris? Have _you_ ever considered it? Where are you from, anyway?"

"I'm from the States but I live in London right now. Love Paris, though. Might get the guts to move here someday."

"Well, moving here from London is a lot different than moving from Seattle. I'm not that brave."

"You should consider it. Especially if things aren't going so hot back home."

I stuck my hands deep in the coat's pockets, shivering, considering this. His eyes communicated soft secrets as he spoke, but I couldn't penetrate his realm, couldn't decode them. He was careful with his words, but honest. I felt like a giddy child, my reaction to him almost naïve: something I surely wasn't. I said, "I could never do that."

"Why not? You said you wanted to come here since you were a kid, right? You seem to have a passion for it."

"Yeah, but that wouldn't fix anything. I'd just be running from my problems."

"Well ... isn't that what you're doing here right now?"

"You _are_ psychoanalyzing me, I knew it!" I bantered, pushing his shoulder. "That's _not_ what this is, thank you very much. Like I said, I'm here to clear my head. So when I go home I can actually _do_ something about my not-so-hot situation. To make things better." I looked at him, smug.

"And all _I'm_ saying is, it sounds like you have more motives to move here than you're acknowledging. You wouldn't just be copping out. There's something invigorating about packing up and moving thousands of miles away. It changes you. Trust me on that." Winking, he tossed his empty cup into a trashcan and led me across a busy street. "What's so bad back at home, anyway? You're clearly not just here for your birthday."

No way I'd tell a complete stranger, even if he did have smoldering eyes. "Let's just say I've put myself in a bad situation, and it's up to me to get out of it." He waited. "I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to leave him yet."

He shook his head. "I get the feeling you are. Not that you need some stranger's opinion, but I'm good at reading people." He let his eyes wander downward, glancing up every few seconds as we continued to walk, as if to make sure he knew where we were. "I say stay away from him. Whoever he is. Anyone with that much power over you is dangerous."

My ears perked up at his unintentional perceptiveness, and I wondered if I should tell him more. "Thanks ... for the vote of confidence. Guess I'll find out when I get home."

"It must be nice to be comfortable with silence like you are." He glanced at a bundled-up elderly man dozing on an icy bench as we passed by him. "I need a crowd. Being alone makes my ears hurt." He exhaled quietly.

"I've never been one to be around a lot of people. I don't think I've ever felt that need. I just—"

"Trust yourself." His eyes searched mine again, and I blushed like the child I felt I was and turned my head to watch an old woman cross the street, a bag of groceries in her arms. She caught me watching her so I looked back at him.

"What about you?" I said. "I mean, you don't strike me as the type to need a crowd. You seem the quiet type." _And charming, and insanely handsome._ I reeled in my thoughts and tried to maintain a cool façade. As if I even knew what one looked like.

"Yeah, I'm a bit of a recluse myself," he said. "I just prefer to be around people, to observe them. Helps me cope. Too much isolation messes with my head."

"It's funny how loners seem to find one another." I bit my lower lip, looking back to the street to avoid his deep gaze. The Louvre came into view, and I felt a tinge of disappointment. The more I spoke to him, the more I felt a gravitational pull toward him.

He saw the museum too. Speaking quickly, he rattled off more questions about my favorite movie — _Edward Scissorhands_ — favorite author — Flannery O'Connor — and when he got to my favorite music, I stopped and said, "Why are you asking me all this?"

"Does there have to be a reason? Can't I just make conversation?" He smirked, challenging me.

I rolled my eyes, giving in. "Rock and classical."

"Time of year?"

"Fall."

"Yeah." He turned his attention toward the museum's entrance. "I can completely see that."

I studied him as he admired the museum. Something about him felt comfortable, almost familiar.

"Welcome to the Louvre." He broke through my trance, gesturing to the beautiful piece of history in front of us.

"I've waited a long time for this." I gawked at the sight, taking it all in. "Thanks for the walk."

"Anytime."

"There is one other thing I'm here for, by the way." I turned, ready to bid him farewell.

"What's that?"

"To have an experience like this one."

"Well, in that case I'm glad I bumped into you."

We stared at each other until he blinked first, and smiled a breathtaking, crooked smile that should have been illegal.

"Listen, I'm in town for a few weeks." He slipped a business card to me from his pocket. "If you want, give me a call. Show you around some more, maybe."

"Definitely."

"Think about the big move. Leave him." He ran his fingers through his hair, turned to head toward the street. "Let me know what you decide."

"Believe me, you'll be the first to know."

"I never did get your name...."

"Camille. Camille Hart."

"I'm Gavin. Gavin Devereaux. It was great knocking you over."

"Yeah, thanks for that." I shook my head, laughing.

"I just wanted to know you!" he shouted as he began walking backward, drifting away.

Waving goodbye, I watched him head back toward the chocolaterie, back toward the scene that would become the most cryptic memory of my trip to the city that had stolen my heart. I saw him stop to slip some money and a handshake to the older man we passed by earlier. I lingered at the sight and smiled to myself, realizing my mission was now underway.

I wrapped my dream coat tighter around my waist and readjusted my scarf while I stared at his name on the plain black business card. Maybe Gavin was right. In that moment, it felt like heaven to catch a glimpse of an alternate me, in the new life he suggested.

His body faded into the city's sea and I stood there with only his crisp-edged business card and a vision of an improbable but appealing future. Apparently, Paris was an unstoppable force, a very skilled and thorough thief. Because now, it had ownership of my soul.

2

UNDEAD

The warm breeze washed over me when I stepped outside to get in my mud-smeared jet-black Jeep Wrangler to head to work. I welcomed the heat, inhaled deeply to let it move down my nose and throat. It felt like blazing fire at first, awakening the long-dormant life hidden away in my haven of a body. I was more than thrilled that it was summertime, had missed the uncomfortable hot weather and all its humid glory. My tank top already damp with perspiration, I stuck to the leather seat, my moist hair blowing effortlessly in the wind. It felt raw. Real. _Alive_.

I jumped on the highway heading for Lafayette, enjoying the sunshine as I drove, though after a year and a half, I was tiring of the trip to the city every day. I lived in the Breaux Bridge area, but was majoring in Literature at Louisiana State University, and worked in Lafayette too. There wasn't much around my home except wide-open land, sparse neighbors, and a few family-owned restaurants and shops. I needed privacy though, and the rich French culture and history. A short commute to the city was a fair trade for my new life. Besides, I didn't have classes this summer, so I wasn't driving to and from Lafayette nearly as often.

In the bookstore parking lot, I put the car into park, lifted up my aviator shades and took a last drag off my cigarette, scanning the lot for any sign of his car. I hadn't seen him in over a week, and I was hoping he took me seriously this time.

His dark blue Ford pickup wasn't here. I threw an oversized oxford work shirt over my tank top, always thankful that it covered a multitude of sins, and popped a piece of gum in my mouth, gave a final glance around before I headed inside.

"The new release table's looking kind of barren, Camille dear," an annoyingly pleasant voice chimed as I stepped behind the front counter to clock in. Carol, my supervisor, specialized in the completely unnecessary. She watched me walk in the door every day for the past year and a half and do everything she ever asked me to, and then some. She knew I was reliable, that I loved my job, yet she made at least one condescending comment a day to me.

"I'll be right on it," I sang back just as pleasant, grabbing a stack of books to take to the new release table.

"Don't be too long now. I have other things for you to do this morning." She tilted her gaudy, librarianesque eyeglasses down for a second to look at me and gave me her signature mother hen stare. Rolling my eyes as soon as I had my head turned away from her, I shuffled on over to the table to appease her.

When she was out of sight, I snuck off to the most important section for my weekly ritual. I skimmed through the Hoodoo spellbooks to find some new protection spells, then slipped into the back room to make copies. None of them had worked yet, but I was new to the whole conjure thing, so I was optimistic.

I tucked the new spells into my pocket while I headed back to the new release table, pondering when would be a good time to swing by the conjure shop.

"So what's it going to be this weekend, dinner and a movie?"

The question came from behind me. My body tensed, my shoulders instantly feeling the greatest effect. I clenched my jaw and swiveled around to peer up at a poisonous, yet undeniably angelic-looking face.

"You know I hate it when you do this," I said. "And this is hardly the place."

Times like this, I was grateful I looked so serious all the time. That helped when I needed to appear angrier. But I couldn't maintain my stare. I swallowed and looked down first, then back up.

"Well maybe if you didn't hide away from me all the time and actually _answered_ my phone calls, a visit to your place of employment wouldn't be necessary," he said. He smirked, stepped a foot closer to me. "I don't know why you fight it darlin', you know you're all talk." His whisper trailed off as his sinister smile widened. "We both know you'll never be strong enough."

Nausea overwhelmed me when he rubbed his hand on my arm, giving me goose bumps. My body flinched with disgust.

His prisoner, I fought the impending paralysis and blinked my eyes, stretched my fingers outward, reminding them of their function. There were people all around who could see this. I was safe. He wouldn't be so stupid. Not here. A thousand creeping anxieties scattered through my consciousness.

"Nothing is going on this weekend, Andrew. And we both know that you are going to stay away from me." I gritted my teeth, glancing left and right to make sure we weren't making a scene. "I _am_ strong enough. I've changed, and I don't care if you believe that or not—"

He grasped my arm, leaning in to speak directly in my ear. His smoky green eyes bored into mine, appraising me. "Oh, I _do_ believe you've changed darlin'. I believe you're more afraid now than you have ever been. And that fear inhibits your ability to be strong, sweetheart. Whether you believe _that_ or not."

He let my arm go abruptly and kissed my forehead before he turned to walk away. I shuddered at the touch of his lips on my skin.

"I'll pick you up at six on Sunday, then." He didn't bother turning back to look at me. "Oh — not _this_ weekend, though. _Next_ weekend. This weekend I'll be out of town, have some things to take care of." He pivoted his head around, winking at me. "You be good while I'm gone, now."

Strolling out the front door, he left me like wounded prey to awaiting predators, hungry and ready to pounce. Shaken, I darted for the back of the store, hoping my coworkers wouldn't notice. I had to get outside and breathe. I needed to be alone before I started breaking down, before my mind went to war with the intrusive, unwelcome hunters in my head.

I stepped out the back door from the inventory room and leaned up against the sun-heated concrete wall, tilting my head back, closing my eyes while I slid down the wall and landed with my knees up, sobbing. He would never let me go from this personal hell I created for myself. He would never let me free from the guilt and shame that consumed me for letting him into my life. He was the first person to befriend me when I moved here, someone I felt genuinely comfortable with.

I exhaled, shaking my head at my ridiculous, contradictory thoughts. How could I have had such poor judgment? The answer was clear despite my fragmented feelings. I asked myself this same question every single day, and after the spectacle he just pulled, I had to be honest with myself. A year and a half ago, he helped fill a void. But now my weakness was returning to haunt me in the very place I ran to, the place I came to give myself a new beginning.

I sat on the concrete, fighting the war raging inside my head, knowing Carol could come barging out here any second to fire me. But I couldn't think about her or my job right now. The only thoughts I had were of my trip to Paris, how invigorated I felt there. And how free. How liberated I'd felt by myself, halfway across the world in a different country, a different culture, fully separate from everything back home that bound me to my past. No one knew me, and there was nothing in the city to remind me of anything familiar. I remembered imagining it must be what being reborn felt like, being able to assign new memories to the places and faces I encountered.

I'd come to Louisiana to make a future. I met him. Even if I failed, I must try to get away from him. _It will never happen, unless ..._

I knew I had to turn him in, get help. Get a restraining order. Something. Anything. I pulled the new spells from my pocket to stare at them. I had to get to the conjure shop fast and get the supplies I needed, before Audrey arrived.

Audrey. How was I going to keep all of this from her?

Somehow, I just would. I shot up from the ground, my heart pounding through my chest, whisked hair away from my face, angrily scrubbed tears from my eyes and cheeks. I straightened my work shirt and gulped a deep breath, then another, certain I looked deranged. I didn't care. I had to run with this epiphany.

Louisiana was my Paris. That was why I moved here. Why should I blow my chance at a new life because I had a lapse in sanity and let this monster into my life, allow him to steal every ounce of my courage and dignity? If I was strong enough to walk away from the last abuser, uproot myself and move across the country, then I was strong enough to quit this sick addiction called Andrew.

A wind gust blew around me, and I looked up to see storm clouds. A crack of thunder made me reel as the back door swung open, slamming against the concrete wall. Carol stuck her head out, looked me up and down. "What on earth do you think you're doing? You can't just walk out here on the clock and leave the store like that! I'm sorry, but these fifteen-minute smoke breaks of yours can't be tolerated—"

She stopped her rant when I turned to look at her. She must have seen my mess of a face. Embarrassment washed her expression and her eyes moved to her feet.

"I wasn't smoking, Carol. If you can believe it."

"Listen Camille," she hesitated. "It's that boy, isn't it? I know it's not my business, but I saw you with him just now. And," she nervously ran her fingers through her big red Texas hair, "it didn't settle right with me. Not at all. He gave me the creeps. I mean, the way he looked at you, and your body language, well ..."

She caught my scrutiny, pressed her lips together, then said, "I think he's no good. And to see you distraught like this ..."

_Distraught_. Clever Carol. Her meddlesome inferences actually hit the nail right on the head.

"Well ... thanks, Carol. I appreciate your concern, but it's okay. We're just breaking up and I'm having a hard time with it." That half-truth was the best I could manage.

"I understand. That's the last you'll hear from me about it. Just let me know if you need my help with anything.... If something goes wrong."

"I'll let you know. Really."

She nodded briskly, turned for the door. "I better get back in there. Take a minute to get yourself together and come on back in. We have a lot to get done this morning."

I watched her shut the door and exhaled, looked once more up at the sky. While I worked at compartmentalizing my troubles, my mind registered that Carol was much more perceptive than I ever gave her credit for. I would have to be more careful now. I shook that from my mind and instead thought about the decision I'd made, to finally get rid of Andrew and reclaim the new life that sat patiently in the womb, waiting to be born.

The sky was dark now, and the thunder grew more prominent. Hard, cold raindrops hit my skin and I shuddered. Water soaked my hair and my face, washing away the last of my tears and smeared mascara. As the rain cleansed my forehead, I could feel the malicious predators that had come to defeat me scamper off, leave in defeat. An irrational perseverance rose within me, produced a hopeful smile on my face. I reached for the door, held on tight to my second wind and hurried back inside.

3

THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

How I'd managed to sleep that night was beyond me, but I awoke rejuvenated. Perhaps that was because I'd see Audrey this morning. This was her first visit since I moved from Seattle. She had no classes this summer, and was able to get off work for a while to come see me. And I was having "Audrey withdrawals."

On the way to the airport I visited the conjure shop, eager to try the new protection spells. The earthy building with haint blue windows and doors sat tucked away behind an old pizzeria, right around the corner from the bookstore. I spotted the familiar rootworker behind the counter, some tired old tune playing on the ancient record player behind her.

"I need your help again, Vivienne. I want to try these out." I handed her the list of supplies I needed.

She looked at me cautiously, slowly shook her head in disapproval. "Listen, child, I don't know how to tell you this, but ... this just ain't how it works, nah, child."

I lowered my voice, looked around. "I need to make sure my friend and I are going to be safe. I'm still having problems."

She peered back at me, paper-thin wrinkles bunched up around discerning eyes. "I understand nah, baby, but you may have somethin' different on your hands. Somethin' that won't respond to these spells, ya hear? You don' wanna be messin' with—"

"Please, Vivienne. I need all the help I can get."

What seemed a full minute passed before she looked down at the papers and smacked her lips together, nodded, led me to the shelves.

"Remember _nah_ , this is just extra protection. This won't take the place of a good ol' fashioned jail cell, ya hear?" She placed bags of herbs and roots in my hands.

I nodded and handed her the last of my money.

"Somethin' just not right," she mumbled, but I was already rushing toward the door.

At the airport terminal, I saw her first, so I was able to see her reaction when she spotted me through the crowds of people. Her face beamed with that same giddy look she got in middle school whenever I announced I was having a slumber party. With her around, I knew that seeing things through a child's eyes again would be as easy as breathing.

I rushed over to hug her, nearly knocking her down in collision. She laughed, pulling away from my embrace to look at me. "I just got here and you're already trying to kill me, woman!"

"Can you blame me?" I shot back. "You nearly killed _me_ , making me wait a year and a half to see you! I was having panic attacks down here, ya know." As pure as she was, Audrey had a sarcasm I appreciated, something I believed made our bond even tighter.

"Well you know you could've come to Seattle to see _me_ too," she said. "You've practically written the place off!" She stopped at my expression. "Cam, you know I'm just giving you a hard time. I know Seattle's the last place you'd want to visit. I get it."

She tapped the side of my arm and picked up her luggage from where she'd dropped it. "Now, can we please get out of here? It's giving me a headache!"

"Absolutely," I said.

"Good. I'm starving, and I have so much to tell you! But I need to eat something, like right now. Can we _pleeeeease_ hurry up?"

I had to laugh. "Sure. We'll stop on the way to the house. That is, if you can control your appetite for a whole twenty minutes."

She rolled her big blue eyes. "Don't start with me. It's not the smartest idea to mess with a cranky, hungry woman who's been on a plane all morning. Let me get something in my stomach before you start giving me attitude, so I at least have some energy in me to fight back!" She nudged me with her elbow as we headed to leave.

I nudged her back. "It's good to see you, too."

Before we knew it, it was almost dusk. After breakfast we'd shopped, so we decided to hang out at home that night. Once we finished dinner, we headed out to walk around the neighborhood like we used to back in Seattle, to reminisce and catch up. Though there was no one on the planet I would confide in except her, I still didn't want to tell her the truth.

"So you know I'm bound to ask," she began while we walked down the rugged road past a sugarcane field. "You might as well just come out with it and save me the trouble of prying it out of you."

I tried. "Audrey, there's nothing to tell." Then I sighed, realizing I was already defeated. "Can we please talk about what's going on with you some more? You never told me about what happened with Brian, or how your spring classes went."

She gathered her dirty blonde hair into her hands and tied it up into a ponytail. As she did, she said, "Brian's history, good riddance. Classes were good. Same old, same old. Now. Who is he? And why won't you talk to me about him? I mean, all the times we've talked on the phone, and you just dance around the subject."

She raised her eyebrows at me, waiting. I watched a family of ducks waddle by, crossing the street in front of us. "You know, I really admire their simple lives," I said. "Eat, sleep, repeat." I glanced up to examine the soft palette of colors in the sky.

"Yeah, the ducks. Simple. I get it. Now spill."

I sighed. "I haven't talked to you about him because there's nothing to tell. Besides, you know how I am about talking on the phone. It's so impersonal. I didn't want to get into it." I shrugged.

"Okay, well I'm here now. No phones. So let's hear it."

Of course. _Get right to the point, Camille._ She was so impatient. So blunt. So ... _Audrey_. I hesitated, trying to figure out how to be as truthful as possible without alarming her. I couldn't have her run off and confront him herself, before I had the chance to try the protection spell. Knowing how enraged she'd be when she found out, I doubted she would be able to hear the rest of the story.

"It's not a big deal. He seemed great. Someone I could relate to. We dated for the past year, and ... he turned out to be a jerk. So now we're going through the breakup. And it's hard."

She shook her head. "I _knew_ something was up. You dated for a year, and you don't tell me anything?" Annoyance had crept into her tone. "Never mind that. Do you still love him?"

Which question to answer first? Which was safest? "He turned out to treat me ... badly. I didn't really _love_ him. It was more of an unhealthy attachment. An addictive relationship, I guess you could say."

That was the truth. But what was I supposed to do next? Rip my sleeve up my arm and just show her? She knew I went through this with the last guy in Seattle, but this time I'd let it go on for over a year.

"Well I can understand that, Cam. I mean, you've been through a lot. Moving out here all by yourself, after going through everything with your mom and dad, and _him_ ... you needed a friend, someone you could hang out with. Trying to fill a void, you know."

_Thank you, Dr. Audrey._ "Yeah, but I screwed up. I've never _needed_ anyone to feel adequate. Not like this. Not until I met him. I wasn't thinking clearly, I guess. So when he came along, if I wasn't with him, I felt so empty. But I made a big mistake. One that's going to take a while to forgive myself for."

She reached out, squeezed my shoulder. "Sometimes you get into a relationship, and the person turns out to be no good. It happens. You make it sound like you committed a crime. I can't imagine anything worse than what you left in Seattle."

Dread filled my mind and overwhelmed me. "Seriously, did you change your major to Psych and forget to tell me? You need to go be a counselor, not a cook." Sarcasm wasn't working. "I'm just angry with myself. That's the best I can explain it. When I moved out here, I really believed things were going to be good. That I really would make a new life out here."

"Camille," she began gently. "You dated someone. You thought he was a good guy, but his true colors came through. It just took a little while to see it this time. Happens all the time. You can _still_ start over. It hasn't even been two years since you've moved out here." She grew quiet, her eyes on something in the distance. For a second it looked as if she was marveling over the beautiful sunset. Then I caught the suspicion in her eyes.

"We should start heading back," I said. "It's almost dark. And I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. I have to work in the morning." I stopped walking and turned around to head back to the house.

"How did he treat you _badly_ , as you put it?"

The dreaded question. I sighed but kept walking, to force her to follow. "He cut me down all the time, said mean things. He's really manipulative...."

She wasn't following. I turned my head so I could see her, saw the corners of her lips pulled down into a frown. She was still staring off toward the sky, contemplating, but she hadn't moved. Until she looked toward me without looking me in the eyes, wrapped her arms around her body and hugged herself. I stood there, waiting for her to catch up, but she clearly wasn't ready to leave. Or finished with me.

"He must've treated you _really_ badly for you to not say a word to me for a whole year." She took a deep breath and glanced at my arms. "You're afraid to tell me something. And whatever it is, it _is_ a big deal."

I didn't answer.

She flailed her arms out to the side, frustrated. "Who is he, Camille? What did he do to you? And please, remember who you're talking to. I'm your best friend. Don't insult me."

She wrapped her arms around her body again, this time looked directly at me, probably just as reluctant to hear the truth as I was to tell it. Still, I tried to spare us both.

"Well ... his name's Andrew. And you're right. It _is_ bad. The truth is, he's been very" — a lump rose in my throat — "verbally abusive." I compulsively looked down, blowing my cover, completely committing a liar's suicide. "I didn't want to tell you about it because I'm embarrassed, okay? I can't believe I even put up with it again. But I had a good reason for not telling you. I knew you'd try to talk sense into me. At the time, I wasn't ready for that. I just wanted to be with him, jerk or not."

I looked up as she nodded again, then cocked her head to the side as she looked down at her feet, kicked a pebble to the side of the road. "Awfully hot to be wearing a long-sleeved shirt today, isn't it? A one-hundred-degree heat index, and you wear a flannel shirt to pick me up this morning?"

One hot tear slid down my cheek and I nodded, knowing I didn't need words to confirm her suspicions.

She stepped closer. "How bad is it? What did he _do_ to you? How long has this been going on?"

"A while," I murmured, another tear rolling down my face. I couldn't hold it in anymore.

She grabbed my shoulders and shook me like a rag doll, then moved her hands down to my elbows and yanked one sleeve all the way up my arm. I winced.

"We need to call the police," she babbled, "they need to see...." She grabbed the other sleeve and yanked it up. "What did that monster _do_ to you? I'll kill him, I swear I will! We need to go to the police, right _now_. You can't let him get away with this."

She began to shake me again, as if trying to wake me from a deep sleep, but I pulled away. "Look Audrey, I know. That's what I need to tell you. You have to listen to me. I know I let him do this, and I need to go to the police. But I just realized it yesterday. That I'm strong enough now. He had me brainwashed for a little while there, but I've snapped out of it, I promise."

"But how do you know—?"

"He came to my job yesterday. I completely lost it. I know I have to end this now." I swallowed, rushing to catch my breath so I could continue. To my surprise, she waited for me. "I was afraid of what he'd do if he ever came after me. Once I broke up with him, let alone if I went to the police. Not to mention what I would even _tell_ the police. It doesn't look good when you _let_ someone do this to you for a year and not say anything about it. I enabled him. It takes two, that's what they'll think. I have a lot of odds against me." I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated, yet it felt so liberating to let the truth pour out.

She shook her head. "I get that, Camille. But this happens to plenty of people, and there are ways out, ways to handle this. Fortunately, it's not like you're married to the guy."

I breathed out a sigh, wiped my face on my sleeve. "Yeah, I know. The thing is ... I've tried to break up with him before, and until yesterday, when he came to my job, I hadn't seen him in over a week."

"He came to your job? You said you lost it. What made you change your mind to finally do something about it?"

"I don't know, really. I was just so disappointed. I guess I thought he really let me break up with him this time. Then here he shows up at my job, telling me he's picking me up next weekend, and I just cracked." The humid heat was smothering me; I shrugged off the flannel shirt and rubbed my upper arms, examining the black and blue marks sprawled across them. "Him showing his face yesterday was some kind of wakeup call. I just hate that it happened the day before you came."

Her eyes sparked with hope. "You weren't lying when you said you've snapped out of it. Thank God, the real Camille is still in there, I can tell." Her eyes appraised me. She gently rubbed one of the bruises. "Do they hurt badly?"

"They're okay."

Her nostrils flared and she closed her eyes, pressed her fingers against her temples. "We have to turn him in _now_. Before he shows his face at the house. I can't be held responsible for what I'd do to him."

I put up my hand to stop her from saying anything more. "He's more of a threat to you than you'd be to him, Audrey." I gestured to my arm. "He's dangerous when he wants to be."

And then I explained my plan, the one I rehearsed in my head on the way to pick her up this morning.

Horror washed over her face. "Absolutely not, I—"

"He won't come around while you're here," I said quickly. "I don't think, anyway. We can enjoy these two weeks together, and you can trust me to call the police after you leave."

"There is no way in hell I'm going to get on that plane and leave you here with him, are you crazy...?"

My hope that she would remain calm ended. She started yelling like she was talking to an inanimate object who couldn't understand her. From there, we went around in circles while full darkness fell around us. With us both exhausted, we came to a compromise: To keep from ruining the next two weeks, she would let me wait until she left to go to the police.

"But I _cannot_ sit here while you go out with him," she added. "You cancel the date. If he shows up anyway, I'll be here."

I feared saying no to him would put Audrey in danger, especially since I had no guarantee the protection spell would work. I said, "He's so unpredictable, I doubt the date will even happen. But if I can't cancel it, if he shows up—"

"Nope. That's part of my compromise. Tell him you won't go out with him and _stick with it_ , and I won't bother you the rest of the time I'm here about going to the police. If he shows up angry, then _I'll_ call the cops. I'll be a witness that way. He'll be turned in, and you'll have no date to worry about."

And that was that. She refused to let me go on the date, if it happened, to protect her. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Agreed."

"Okay. Let's get back to the house. It's so dark out here I can barely see a thing," she locked arms with me to walk toward the house, "and I'm creeped out now, talking about this guy. It's going to be all right, Cam. Admitting you have a problem is the first step, remember?" With a tight smile, she nudged me into a walk.

"I think I'm past the first step, aren't I?" I said. "I'm about to kick him to the curb and ban him from my life."

Her face grew serious again. "He's never going to put his hands on you again. We'll make sure of that. You'll pick up right where you left off when you moved here. A little banged up, some wounds to heal. No pun intended. Although I still can't believe I'm agreeing to wait."

"It's not your burden to bear, Audrey," I said. "It's my problem. I got myself into it and I'd like to get myself out of it. Preferably not while you're here on vacation."

" _Please._ My vacation is hardly priority at the moment. I'm just glad I came when I did. I can't imagine if ..." She glanced at me and I nodded to show her I understood.

Another good part of living in the country is being able to really _see_ the night sky. I looked up to a panorama of winking crystal stars against the inky-black backdrop. Despite her worries about me, Audrey's words encouraged me, confirming that yesterday's epiphany still applied today. Talking about it with her after making the decision to rid myself of this toxic relationship for good was the beginning.

I gave her arm a squeeze as we approached my front door. "Seriously, thank you for doing this. For your help." I unlocked the door and held it open, to let her in first. But she didn't go inside.

"I know you're completely blind to it," she said, "but believe me when I say you don't need anyone to help you. You don't know your own strength, Cam. Truth is, you would've made it out of this mess with or without me here, or anyone else. And that absolutely astounds me." She winked. "I admire you, Camille Hart. I always have."

For what I'd done to deserve an angel like this, I hadn't the faintest idea. Tonight, the stars could surely feel my heart radiating in gratitude. But I also knew that her faith in me alone might not be enough to protect us both. We headed inside and I excused myself to the bathroom, where my stash of Hoodoo supplies waited.

4

BIRTH

I'm sure I looked like a madwoman, speeding into the bookstore parking lot twenty minutes late, slamming on my brakes while I did a check in the rearview mirror to make sure I'd brushed my hair well enough. Audrey and I ended up talking and intermittently watching chick flicks until almost three this morning. I dashed inside, expecting Carol to sing her typical morning lecture to me, throwing in a disciplinary tirade as well. Fortunately the store was pretty empty, with the exception of two teen girls hanging out in the teenybopper magazine section, pining over the latest celebrity heartthrob, some Pattinson guy. I couldn't keep up with all of the new actors. The only one I ever paid any attention to was Johnny Depp. But apparently, this Pattinson guy was all the rage.

I flew behind the counter to clock in, and to my delight, Carol looked at me sweetly and said, "How are you feeling this morning, Camille? Don't worry about being late this morning, you're normally very punctual. Please just try and stay a little late today to pick up the slack, all right?"

"Um ... sure, okay, no problem," I replied. Maybe the spell I tried last night protected me in more ways than one. "I'm doing okay, thanks for asking. Sorry I'm late."

"And oh, make sure the new release table is replenished. You saw how fast they were selling yesterday, my goodness. After that, just work on organizing the fiction sections, as usual."

She started to head toward the self-help section, but stopped, swung around and headed back to the counter. She grabbed a stack of books and shuffled them across the counter toward me. " _Ooops_ , almost forgot. Here are a few returns you can put back." Smiling, she adjusted her obnoxious glasses and moseyed on over to the self-help section, humming some Mary Poppins song along the way. It was _way_ too early for that.

I glanced at my watch while I walked from aisle to aisle, placing books in their proper places. Each time I placed one on a shelf, I found myself longing for the workday to be over. I didn't regret the late night, but my mind and body were. But as long as there was no sign of Andrew, that was all that mattered today. Holding the last returned book, I went onto tiptoe for the tallest row on the shelf. My short stature wasn't cooperating. I wandered around the rows of books, peeking through them, looking for our stepladder, but didn't see it. I did see Gina at the counter. "Gina, seen our ladder this morning?" I called out.

"Nope, try the back," she answered, sounding as tired as I felt.

I headed toward the back of the store, feeling my feet grow heavier on the way to the last aisle before the stockroom entrance. The lack of customers and soft elevator music weren't helping my effort to stay awake. _While I'm in the back, maybe I'll throw some coffee on. Yes. Caffeine is goooood—_

The black flash came into my side vision, moving swiftly toward the aisle before it. I watched the blur blow past the next few shelves, on its way toward the front of the store. I spun around, scanned the trail the blur had left behind while goosebumps sprang up on the back of my neck. In confusion, I wandered past the next three aisles, peering down each one, searching for the figure in black. I saw nothing.

Biting my lip, I gently pressed one of my bruises, winced. Definitely awake, absolutely not hallucinating.

A surge of panic hit me as the realization did. Was he here again? Didn't the spell have any effect at all? Considering his narcissistic persona, it wouldn't surprise me if he dropped in for another visit. Anything to make himself feel more powerful.

Feeling paranoia deepen, I stormed past each aisle, investigating each one again. If he _were_ here, I'd confront him. As much as I wanted to avoid any conflict with him until Audrey left, I couldn't allow him to just come to my job and spy on me. Plus, if this round of Hoodoo didn't work, Vivienne and I were going to have a chat.

I found no one in the rows. The terror started to subside, my newfound strength replacing it. I figured if he was here, maybe Carol saw him come in and would have checked on me, remaining loyal to her intrusive nature.

At the front of the store, the pining teenagers were ready to purchase their gossip magazines. Whispering and smiling giddily to one another, they peeked at the shelf next to me, near the front counter where I now stood. I slowly ducked my head around the corner of the shelf in question to see they'd been staring at a man in black. He sported a vintage Led Zeppelin t-shirt over gray-washed jeans, worn combat-style boots on his feet. He stood quietly, flipping through a paperback. I pulled my head back a little, standing parallel to the side of the shelf wall to stay out of sight, but kept my gaze on him. _Tall, dark and handsome. No wonder the teenyboppers can't stop gawking._ But it was more than his appearance. There was some sort of unearthly aura around him, a physical glow that the fluorescent lights above the row couldn't explain.

It wasn't Andrew though, and I felt my pulse resume a normal beat at the realization. I stared at him another minute, trying to make sense of my fascination with him aside from his obvious good looks. While he scanned the shelf in front of him, he stopped to skim through a few more pages of his book. There was something engaging about his sharp, inquisitive movements, so quiet, so ... ethereal. Sleep deprivation making me more sensitive, possibly. But the dark figure somehow lit up the old shabby bookstore, illuminating the worn cherry wood bookshelves and the grotesque green carpet that looked even more pathetic under the delicate glow. There was also something oddly familiar about him, but I was certain I'd never forget someone as stunning as he was. He didn't _look_ like everyone else.

He shifted his body's weight toward the end of the aisle where I stood, peeking slyly off to the side. His wandering eyes told me I was busted. Thinking, _Might as well ease the awkwardness,_ I stepped out of hibernation. "Can I help you find anything, sir?"

He tilted his head toward me, looking surprised that I spoke to him. "Do I look old enough to be called sir?"

"Um, guess not, sorry. Just figured I'd ask."

"Just messing with you," he said, relaxing his stance. "I don't need help. Thank you, though." He lifted the paperback in his hand, showing me his new find, but looked down as soon as our eyes made contact, smirking as if he'd heard some funny inside joke. Apparently, I missed it.

"Okay, then," I said. "If you need help with something, just let me know." I turned to walk away, but felt him lift his eyes to my back, freezing me in place.

He was _too_ familiar. It was beginning to annoy me. I turned around and said, "Hey, do I know you?" at the same instant he said, "Is there a reason you've been watching me?"

We both chuckled, my face flushing for sure now; I could feel the pink spread to my ears. I managed to tuck my hair in front of my ears, covering evidence of my embarrassment. "Excuse me?"

"I just noticed you've been watching me from over there, and I have to say ... I'm impressed. You spoke to me when I caught you spying." He shrugged. "That's brave. It sucks to be caught people watching. Especially in close proximity like this." He gestured between us with his hands.

My scrambled thoughts pushed their way from my mouth. I shook my head. "No, not spying. I just feel like I know you from somewhere ... your face ..."

"So you were spying on me." He grinned but his eyes glared at me, his posture a bit tenser now.

My face burned with humiliation but I squinted, determined to study his face for anything I recognized, perhaps the shape of his eyes and the line of his jaw, certain the answer was sitting right there in my memory bank, just not visible yet. He continued to stare at me, his eyes drilling into mine. My face felt as if it were on fire.

I straightened, focusing on my response on him instead of his scorching brown eyes. "Okay ... whatever you wanna call it, fine. I just thought I recognized you."

He laughed, looking apologetic. "Look, I don't mean to embarrass you. I'm only joking with you. Really." He plopped the book in his hands back on the shelf next to him. "You _have_ seen me before, actually. Met me, in fact." He pursed his lips, hesitating. "And now I'm embarrassed that I embarrassed _you_." He shyly shifted his glance downward and placed his hands in his pockets.

"Really? I thought so. I just can't place you. I'm sorry, how do I know you?"

"Well, I believe we met in France a while back. I recognized you, but I didn't want to say anything."

_Do I look old enough to be called sir?_ The memory bank immediately broke, the recollection of our meeting in Paris sliding out. "Oh, I remember now, of course! No, I'm glad you said something. I felt like an idiot for staring at you, I just ..." Out of words, I wrapped my arms around my body.

"Don't. It's been almost two years. I didn't expect you to even look twice at me."

He didn't expect me to _look_ at him? This guy was oblivious to the effect he had on people.

He broke the silence for me. "So ... you live here? In Lafayette? Small world."

"Yeah. Well, in the Saint Martinville area. How about you?"

"Yeah, I live outside of town, too."

I was enamored with him all over again, amazed I didn't recognize him the minute I laid eyes on him. I said, "Uh, just for the record, I've had a lot on my mind lately. And on top of that, I'm really tired today. My mind just had to catch up I guess. But believe me, I remember you."

"Ah, don't mention it. I mean, we only met once. I can't believe it's been almost two years since that trip, though. Sometimes I feel like it was just yesterday that I was there."

"Yeah, I do too sometimes. Time really flies."

His stance relaxed more, and he leaned on the bookshelf. "You enjoy the rest of your visit there?"

I nodded. "The best time of my life, I can't wait to go back someday. I never did get around to calling you. I was sort of in my own world." My hands suddenly felt like extra appendages; I tucked them into my back pockets. "The whole trip was really ... important. And meeting you? It was cool talking to someone I could relate to while I was in another country." I stared past his shoulders, recalling our conversation outside on the terrace that morning. If he only knew the mess I was in now.

"Something wrong?"

I returned my attention to him, letting go of the distraction. "No. I'm just shocked you remember _me_ , let alone how strange it is, running into you again like this."

He nodded, his eyes fixed on mine. "Like I said, small world."

"Ahem." Carol reared around the corner. "Is this a friend of yours, Camille? Or one of our customers?" She asked sweetly, but glanced over at the register where Gina stood, slumped over on the counter flipping through a magazine, pretending she wasn't watching us.

"Both." He'd spoken for me, the same phony sweetness in his tone. I fought back a grin.

"Ah, well, that's great. We appreciate your business, dear. But Camille," she turned back toward me, "I think you should wrap it up, okay? Mingle with the other customers." She waddled off toward the stockroom. Our eyes surveyed the empty store as she walked away.

"Other customers?" He smirked, amused.

"Yeah, that's Carol for ya."

"So I see. Well, I'll let you get back to work. It was nice seeing you again though." He grabbed the book he'd temporarily rested on the shelf. "I'll probably see you around again. I just started coming to this place. It's not like the chain stores, I like it."

I smiled up at him, secretly bummed he was leaving. "It was nice seeing you too. I'll see you around then." I reluctantly turned to head toward the register, but noticed that he stood still, a contemplative look on his face. I stopped politely, waiting for whatever it was he had to say, hoping it was more than just a question about the book he was holding.

He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. I stood there, feeling stupid. "Would you ... want to go get coffee or see a movie sometime?" He spit out the words, jumbling them up as if they were all one word. "If not I understand—"

"That'd be great."

"I can give you my number.... Are you free tonight by any chance?"

I shut my gaping jaw, not realizing it had been hanging open. Could I _do_ this? While I still had Andrew to deal with? I couldn't even imagine what a normal date would _feel_ like right now. My mind began to analyze all of the what-if scenarios.

What the hell. "Sure. I get off around five. I have a friend visiting though, would you mind coming to my place to pick me up? Maybe hang out for a little bit before we go out? I feel rude leaving her there alone."

"That'll be fine. Here's my number." He spoke eagerly, moving toward me to grasp my hand. My heartbeat accelerated. He pulled a pen from his pocket and began writing on the inside of my wrist. "Give me a call when you get off and give me directions to your place." He let go of my wrist and turned for the front door. "I'll see you tonight then." He hung his head, smiling warmly as he strolled off.

I said "See ya," but wasn't certain if I'd said it quickly enough for him to hear. I was too overwhelmed pondering this beautiful contradiction that had crossed my path not once, but twice in my lifetime. I wanted to know of this shy, yet overtly confident dark cloud that illuminated everything around him.

A memory of the last image I remembered of him as he left me in Paris flashed through my mind, and I realized Andrew would have to wait. I had a life to move on with. It was clear that Paris not only changed my life while I was there, but a small piece of it actually manifested itself right here — in Louisiana of all places — for a reason. Gavin carried a supernatural aura that exuded something genuine, and for all of this, I knew he was worth the risk of Andrew's wrath.

* * *

I looked down at my wrist to examine his phone number, smiling when I read what he wrote underneath: _"Sir," aka Gavin._

I did not forget his name.

Audrey stood next to me at my vanity while I contemplated which outfit to wear, her arms folded, tapping her foot. "Okay, Camille. I know I'm supposed to play the role of super-supportive friend here, even though you've gone crazy and all. But _this_? Going out with this new guy in the midst of an end to an abusive relationship that you've yet to really _deal_ with? Have you even called the beast to tell him about next weekend yet?"

"Audrey, you're getting on my nerves. Will you chill out? He's a nice guy. And I met him before, I told you."

"For like twenty minutes! Like two _years_ ago!"

"So? Isn't that better than a complete stranger?"

In the mirror, I saw her roll her eyes. I ran a brush through my hair, reached for my makeup, then stopped. "Audrey, look. I meant it: he's a nice guy. And I can't explain it to you, I just get a good vibe from him. He's different. Mysterious. In a _good_ way."

I began to put mascara on. "It's not like I'm marrying the guy. We're just gonna hang out. Stop freaking out." I batted my eyelashes, moved on to the lipstick. "Speaking of hanging out, you should go get ready. He's bringing a friend of his."

I waited for it.

"Unbelievable!"

Here we go....

"They'll be here in thirty minutes. When did you plan on telling me this? And where the hell are we going for this date? Details, woman."

"Audrey, seriously. You sure you wanna be a cook? I really think you should reconsider your career. What about acting? Do you have any idea what a drama queen you are? You'd be amazing on Broadway, seriously."

Her nostrils flared, and I'd swear it looked like she might pounce and kill me.

"Camille Elizabeth Hart!"

I was pretty sure only dogs could hear her.

"Why is it that I'm being called a drama queen, when I'm the _sensible_ one here?" she said. "Why are you so _composed_? I'm more worried about you than you are!"

"Exactly." I threw down my lipstick. I was about to spill and let her know we might have a little magic on our side, but I didn't. She'd _really_ think I was crazy if I told her that. "That's my point. If I'm not freaking out, you shouldn't either. It's my problem, so let me be the one to worry about it." I tossed my makeup back into the drawer and stood, placed my hands on her shoulders. "Everything's going to be okay. I don't know how, I just know it is. This is why I'm here, remember? To start over? So please, just be happy I have a nice guy to hang out with, and come have fun with us tonight."

She pouted and folded her arms like the child she was.

"Please, Audrey? Let's just put aside this Andrew-the-barbarian drama for a few days and have fun. I _need_ this." I stared at her, waiting for her to give in.

" _Barbarian_. I like that. Fitting. Fine. Where are we going, so I know what the hell to wear? And who is his friend?"

I hugged her. "Yes! Okay, just wear something casual. But not too casual. I think we're going up the road to a little hole-in-the-wall joint for some dinner, but ya never know. His friend's name is Gabe. He's our age, but Gavin didn't give me any other details."

"He better be good-looking. And if he's one of those cocky jocks, I'm bailing, got it?"

"Don't be so shallow," I said. "I don't think he's like that anyway. Not if he hangs out with Gavin. But whatever you say, drama queen. Now go get ready, _please_? They'll be here soon, get a move on it!"

"Ugh, so bossy."

She turned and moped toward the guestroom. Did I really just deem her an angel last night? Because I was pretty sure she was actually a constant thorn in my side, and that angel-thing was just blind admiration.

5

SUPPLEMENT FOR THE WRECKAGE

We stepped outside the house when we heard a car approach the drive. When the car came into sight, Audrey's jaw dropped. "Oh my ..." She tried again. "Holy ..."

"Crap," I finished for her.

"You didn't mention this guy had money, Camille." She nudged my arm. "I suddenly feel a tad underdressed. You?"

I glanced down at my timeworn Converse sneakers. "I didn't know. And how are we gonna fit in that thing?" I stared at the black Maserati as it pulled into park in front of us, a car so flashy, I had a hard time picturing him in it.

And then he stepped out from the driver's side wearing a black button-up dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and an expensive-looking pair of dark jeans. Not the Gavin with the old band t-shirt and combat boots, but wherever that Gavin was tonight, I wouldn't complain about his absence.

"Hey you," he said, then, hands in pockets, he walked toward us. The enthusiasm on his face lit me up.

"Hey," I replied, sneaking a glance at Audrey to make sure she'd shut her mouth. "Nice car. Didn't picture you driving a Maserati."

"Thanks. I love it. Wait until you see the inside, it's just as nice." He looked back at the car, peering at the passenger door while he laughed his nervous laugh again. "Too flashy for me?"

"Flashy, but that's not a bad thing," I said with a shrug.

"What did you picture me driving?"

The passenger door swung open, and out stepped another tall, dark and handsome type. Except this guy had dark-black hair with piercing blue eyes that nearly blinded me. I stifled a laugh, knowing Audrey would probably leave me the hell alone for the rest of the evening.

Gavin turned to the guy. "What do _you_ think, Gabe? Do you think a Maserati's too flashy for me?"

"I don't know man, I think it suits you," Gabe replied, coming to join us.

"I was gonna say an old Mustang or something," I chimed in.

"Yeah, I can see that, too," Gabe said. "But he does have a thing for luxury cars. Big spender over here." Gabe had a kind face: mature, yet boy-like. And he seemed really close with Gavin, like a brother.

Gabe bumped Gavin's shoulder, hinting at him to introduce us. "Ah, sorry. Camille," he said, and introduced Gabe to me. Then he moved forward to shake Audrey's hand. "And you must be Audrey, right?"

"Yup, nice to meet you," she said, extending her hand.

"Hope you don't mind he's tagging along tonight," Gavin said, and moved to stand next to me.

She quietly chuckled, a dark laugh I think she intended only me to hear. Gavin heard and glanced over at me, amused.

Gabe and Audrey began chatting. Gavin and I exchanged pleased looks and stepped away to give them privacy. He said, "You look ..."

"Underdressed?" I glanced again at his flashy car.

"Ha. No. I was going to say you look amazing." He pointed toward my long-sleeved corset top. "Black looks great on you, I notice you wear a lot of it."

"What do _you_ know?" I joked. "You've only seen me what, twice?" I nodded at his shirt. "You're one to talk. Black is all I've seen you wear, too."

"I suppose you have a point." He tugged at his shirt, grinning. "It's _all_ I wear. I don't feel comfortable wearing any other color."

I looked up, my eyes meeting his in understanding. "Me too. Everything else is too colorful. I like to blend in, not stand out."

"Wow. We really _are_ introverts."

"That we are," I agreed laughing, pulling at my sleeve. "But hey, I do have another reason. Johnny Cash. 'Man in Black.' It resonates with me. I feel convicted to wear it." Embarrassed by my confession, I chuckled, playing with my sleeve as I spoke.

"That's a great song. So, you're an introvert with a _conviction_."

He looked at me with the same intrigue that crossed his face that day in Paris. It made me uncomfortable, yet I didn't want him to look away. I pried my eyes from his, feeling that annoying pink hue begin to spread across my face again. "I know, I'm a dork. Just deal with it."

"You're far from that, believe me." He pulled his eyes from my face. "That's a very respectable conviction, you know—"

"Okay guys, are we gonna head out? We're starving." Gabe and Audrey had returned from their little world. I was shocked to notice they were already hand-in-hand. That was quick. And strange.

"Uh, yeah let's go," I replied, giving Audrey a hard stare. She didn't notice. She was too busy smiling at Gabe. It was nauseating. Already. "Where are we going exactly, by the way?"

"Well," Gavin said. "We're taking you to this place in Breaux Bridge. Café Des Amis. They have Cajun zydeco music. We hope you ladies like to dance, because—"

Audrey exploded with laughter, immediately clapping her hand over her mouth. Gavin shifted his eyes between Audrey and me, confused.

A penitent smile on her face, Audrey said, "It's just that ... Camille doesn't exactly _dance_. It's not her thing."

"Yeah, but it's fine, really," I said. "I can still hang out while you guys dance. Come on, let's go." I darted for the car, shooting her a warning look.

Not wanting to spoil the fun, after dinner, I let Gavin hurl me all over the dance floor. Every few minutes he would dip me and fling me into a stranger, although the flinging wasn't his fault. He was actually quite coordinated, his rhythm impressive. I was the one who couldn't keep up, unexpectedly launching myself into people as we moved. I watched Audrey and Gabe easily keep up with the fast Cajun beats. Their dance moves were just about as nauseating as their instant chemistry, though I couldn't help but smile at their instant coupledom. The entire night felt safe. Lighter. So far, the new spell was working just fine.

I was having a great time too, but getting tired. Gavin caught my exhausted expression as another song ended and said, "Want to take a break? How about a walk?" I nodded, and watched him share a cautious look with Gabe before he led me out the door to the street.

"Everything okay?" I asked, puzzled by the exchange. We began to meander down the street.

"Oh ... yeah, everything's fine. Gabe and I just watch out for each other. This guy inside has kind of been eyeing you all night, and he was helping me keep an eye on him, that's all."

"Well that's creepy. But ... thanks." I shivered. The familiar paranoia rushed over me, and like the gods suddenly sensed my fear, my cell phone rang. Saying, "Excuse me," I stepped away from Gavin, but headed toward the end of the sidewalk when I saw the name on the caller ID. I hesitated, then silenced the ringer to ignore it. I was not about to let _him_ ruin the night.

"Everything okay?" Gavin appeared from behind me, looking concerned in the streetlight. He glanced around at the empty sidewalk, as though looking for someone.

"Yeah," I stammered, shoved the phone in my pocket. "My mom. I always get upset when she calls." I tried to focus, gestured toward the sidewalk. "How about that walk?"

"Sure." He took my hand in his, rubbed the side of my arm. "You sure you're all right, though? We can head home if you want. . . ." He pointed to the parked Maserati.

"I appreciate it, but no," I sent him a faint smile. "It'll do me good to stay out. And I'm fine, really." I resumed my stroll, waited for him. I rubbed my forearms and released my hands back to my sides, determined to get Andrew off my mind. "So ... where were we? Ah, yes. You never really told me where you live outside of Lafayette."

"Oh, right." He took a deep breath and followed my lead. "Well, I was born here. I live in New Iberia, in my grandfather's old house. I sort of inherited it. I've traveled a lot, moved around a bit. I've always come back home, though."

"You inherited a house? Really? You live there all by yourself?"

"Yeah. It's a lot more space than I need, but I'd never sell the house. It's part of me." He'd placed his hand on the small of my back as we walked, leading me across another street. The smallest of gestures, but so much like our brief time in Paris, as if we'd been together for years. And my lungs forgot how to function.

I took a step back up onto the curb, forced a breath, said, "I can understand that. It's a little different for me, I guess. I've only been here a little over a year. I left Seattle after I met you," I smiled at him, "just as you suggested. But I came here instead of Paris. Moved out here and bought a house. My grandmother helped. Turned out, she'd been saving money for me for years."

He nodded. "Family here?"

My mother flashed in my mind, her in her wheelchair in front of Oak Alley Plantation. _This is where I wish I'd stayed, Camille,_ she'd said that day.

"No, no family," I said. "I came to visit New Orleans once, back in high school. With my mom. She loves the South. So do I. Her whole family's from here." My heart grew heavy as I spoke, hoping that was enough of an answer.

"Wow, so did you move out here all by yourself? Or did your parents move back too? Your grandma?"

"By myself. Mom's still in Seattle, but she and my dad aren't together anymore."

"Oh, sorry to hear that." He replied sincerely, his face thoughtful in the streetlight.

We stopped to sit on the sidewalk in front of an antique shop. He held my arm to keep me stable while I lowered my body to sit on the concrete. A dark blue truck drove by, and my heartbeat ratcheted up. I followed it with my eyes, scanning the driver's seat for a face.

"Your mom didn't want to move back after her and your dad split up?" Gavin's voice broke through my distraction.

"No. She's not well. And now that she's been in Seattle for years, she's comfortable there. She didn't want to make a big move at this point in her life."

"Your dad? Still in Seattle, I presume."

I pulled in a breath and pushed my hands over my hair, smoothing some strands that had loosened while we were dancing, pondering how much to delve into my complicated baggage on the first date.

"Yeah, still there," I exhaled. "He thought I was crazy for coming out here, but I love it. And Louisiana's new _enough_. It's easy, because no one really knows me. I was never close to any of Mom's family. Come to think of it, I doubt they even know I live here now."

Gavin folded his arms, letting them rest on his knees. "It's no Seattle."

"Exactly."

"I see. What about your grandma. The one who helped you buy the house. Your mom's mom? She still live out here?"

I shifted my weight on the hard ground, thinking of how to politely change the subject.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You don't have to talk about your family anymore if you don't want." He leaned his head on his hand, shifted his eyes downward again. "I just want to know you."

He straightened his back and watched a young couple jabbering away, walking from one of the shops across the street to their car. I ran my hand over my still-tender forearm, staring at it, wondering when to tell Gavin what was going on with that.

He reached up, pulled a few strands of my hair away from my face, tucked it behind my ear. "So, my introverted Seattleite, tell me something else I don't know. Like why you work in a bookstore. Just a job?"

"Pretty much." I grinned at his touch. "Working around books is a sort of heaven for me. I want to write. Which I don't think I've ever told to anyone before. Not even Audrey."

"Why wouldn't you tell someone that?"

"I'm not sure. It's a dream that's _mine_ , I guess. No one can take it from me if I keep it tucked away." I peered into his dark eyes, reached out to touch his face for the first time, to feel the porcelain skin that had so easily hypnotized me the first time I met him in Paris. Such a bold move for me, yet I became bolder still, placing my palm on the side of his face, holding it in place so he couldn't look away. "And who are you, my Louisiana native?" I rubbed my thumb across his cheek. "You haven't told me a thing about yourself, other than you live in New Iberia."

He leaned his face into my palm, staring back at me. There went his eyes again, trying to communicate something, only his mouth wouldn't let him and I couldn't break through to find what was behind them. "I'm not that interesting," he said. "I'm more interested in you."

"And I just want to know you." Grinning, I shrugged.

Chuckling at his words backfiring on him, he straightened up again and tilted his head back to look up at the dark sky. He moved his hands to the sidewalk, leaned his weight on it. "Let's see. I love art, I'm a Hitchcock film geek, and I play piano. But most important, you," he took my hand in his, "are by far the most beautiful person I have ever encountered in all of my existence. And that's about all there is to know."

"Well, thank you," I said, taken by his compliment. "But, that's not _all_ there is to know." He didn't volunteer anything else so I continued. "What do you do for work? Do you go to school? Give me _something_."

He rolled his eyes at me and looked out past the street, shaking his head. "Unlike you, I have virtually no bills. Because of my inheritance. So I take jobs here and there wherever I travel, and then I give the money away." He shrugged. "My calling, helping people. It makes me happy." He interlocked his fingers with mine, squeezed. "Is that sufficient detail for you?"

I crossed my legs Indian style, ready to fire more questions, but he swiveled his entire body toward me, taking my wrists in his hands. The moonlight highlighted the little scar above his eyebrow, and once again, I felt I _must_ have known him in a past life. It was the only thing that explained why he felt so familiar to me.

"Before you ask anything else," he ran his fingers through his hair, cleared his throat, "I have to say something, or I might never get the guts to say it again."

"Okay, just say it." I turned toward him, too.

"A little warning. This is going to come off strong for a first date." He chuckled, adjusted his shirt collar. Unnerved by the urgency in his voice, I nodded to encourage him. I sensed what this was like for him, the fear that opening up to me, someone he barely knew, would give me power over him. I also knew that every once in a while, that was so undeniably worth the risk. Maybe his confession, whatever it was, would make me feel better about breaking the news to him about Andrew.

"I'm completely crazy about you, Camille." He moved in closer, his eyes assessed my reaction. "I know there are details you didn't want to mention before ... things about the guy you left back in Seattle, and your mom. But I want you to know whatever it is you're still running from, you don't have to run from it anymore. You can talk to me. And I would never, ever, hurt you."

He spoke frantically now, and I began to sweat, anxious from _his_ anxiety. Desperate to ease his discomfort, I turned my eyes toward the sidewalk.

"I mean, I feel like I've known you forever, even that day I met you in Paris. Something happened then. I love how you bear your thoughts in your eyes, how you're transparent. Yet you're so elusive, hard to catch—" He finally exhaled. "And I want to be the one to catch you." Loosening his grip on my hands, he slowly lifted my arm, slid the shirtsleeve up. "Whoever he is . . . I know he hurt you."

I pulled away, loosened the sleeve to cover the bruised skin, ashamed. I looked away, but he pulled my face closer to his. "He's scum of the earth. The one back in Seattle, too. Neither one of them deserve you."

"How did you know?" I asked softly, wondering how obvious it was.

"Lucky guess." He wiped a tear that formed in the corner of my eye. "Was that him on the phone? The one who did this to you?"

I nodded my head, looked down.

"I just want you to know that I'll wait for you. However long you need. And that I'm here when you're ready to talk about it."

I hesitated, then peered up at him and reached out to pull his arms around me. I'd tell him about Andrew later. For now, I focused on the gift being offered to me. He held me tight, placed his head over mine and ran his fingers through my hair. "I guess this means we're good?" He laughed, uncertain.

"Yeah." I buried my head into his neck, wrapped my arms around his waist. "We're good." I breathed in his scent and exhaled. His depth only seemed to draw me farther into the recesses of his being, and I was more than ready to dive into its very core.

6

LA BISE

The four of us were silent in Gavin's Maserati, a somber mood filling the cramped space. In the last week, we'd all returned to Café Des Amis several times, went fishing and kayaking, and watched about a thousand movies, including all of Gavin's favorite Hitchcock flicks. Before I was ready, it was time for Audrey to go back to Seattle, and I wasn't the only one feeling the weight of her pending departure.

Gabe and Audrey sat in the backseat, her suitcase piled on Gabe's lap, ready to sentence her back to Seattle. Helping her pack that morning, I tried convincing her to leave the Pacific Northwest and come live in the gator-infested swamps to be closer to Gabe and me. She rejected the idea, as I'd suspected she would. Then she gave me hell for retracting my promise to go to the police when she left. I reminded her that Andrew had forgotten about our date anyway, and that he hadn't called since the night at Café Des Amis. Both true. I added that things would be safer now that Gavin was around, too, and that seemed to finally mollify her.

From the backseat, Gabe complained, "This thing doesn't have much room, Gav. We should've taken my truck instead."

"Deal with it," Gavin snapped back. "Camille and I are going out after we drop Audrey off. I'd kind of like to have my ride with me, if you don't mind."

"God you guys, don't hold back the enthusiasm or anything. Lighten up," Audrey said, oddly upbeat considering the circumstances.

"How are you _possibly_ in a good mood right now?" Gabe scrunched his face, looking annoyed.

She sighed. "Well _excuse_ me, but I'd prefer to actually _enjoy_ our last few minutes together instead of sulking about it."

I raised my eyebrows at Gavin, then at Gabe. "She has a point, guys. Can we cool it with the dramatics? Please?"

"Thanks, Cam," she said. "Put these boys in their place. Man, and guys say _we're_ the drama queens?"

I laughed, happily agreeing.

"Call it what you want," Gavin said, "but you ought to be glad we're the way we are. Like with that guy at the restaurant last week."

She chuckled. "I believe that's called over- _protective_ , not over- _dramatic_."

"Whatever, babe," Gavin said, propping his hand on the armrest between us. "You have no idea what kind of scum these guys are, checking you out. It's disgusting. We don't have to guess what they're thinking when they're staring you girls down, believe me."

I placed my hand on his arm and gave him a smile. He smiled and then shifted his eyes back to the road, but I saw anger in his balled-up fist as it moved to rest on the shifter. Maybe Audrey _had_ hit a nerve. Maybe these guys were too sensitive. I glanced out the window, realizing I already missed my best friend.

From the airport, Gavin and I drove Gabe back to his place, then decided to grab dinner out on the way to my house. We made our way toward Saint Martinville with the windows rolled down, Breaking Benjamin blasting through the speakers. "For the record," I called out, "this is one of the best songs ever. Great medicine."

He turned the volume down as the song ended. "I always thought so. Quite epic."

I nodded, relieved to have him to myself after the commotion from Audrey's departure. I watched as we passed aphotic waves of a sugarcane field swaying gracefully, the night breeze pushing them into motion, luring me in.

Gavin remained quiet, his eyes on the dark stretch of road in front of us. I subtly examined him as he drove, loving the expression that swept over him whenever he stumbled off into thought. My curiosity burned, thirsty to know what he was thinking behind those dark chocolate eyes. His poker face gave no hints.

I felt the car slowing, then he glanced into the rearview mirror and gently steered the car off to the side of the road, putting it in to park. The only sound now was of crickets outside.

I shifted my body in my seat and looked around, confused. All I could see around us was the field and some trees, along with a breathtaking number of stars above us. The moon was full against the dark sky. The humidity began to suffocate me, but the silence that now filled the car demanded my attention.

"What's wrong?" I practically whispered.

He sat casually in the driver's seat and placed one arm on the armrest, then turned to look at me. "Do you always have to know what I'm thinking? I thought you were so good with silence." He flashed his signature killer smile. "Please do explain."

"It's different. I don't know. _Your_ silence makes me uncomfortable. But in a good way. I mean, I want to know what you're thinking. All the time. I don't feel that way around other people. And you don't exactly wear your emotions on your sleeve."

"I don't?"

"No." I paused. "But you reveal a lot when you're thinking."

He didn't break his stare, just motioned with his hands for me to continue.

I shrugged. "I mean, your silence says a lot. I can see you processing your thousands of thoughts ... see you analyzing them. But I can't see the thoughts _themselves_. It makes me curious. Makes it harder to be quiet with you. I constantly want to hear you." I realized I was rambling, so I waited for him to respond.

"That sounds like it's frustrating for you," he said. "Especially since I told you that _your_ thoughts are transparent to me."

"To say the least." I laughed.

"If it makes you feel any better, I only meant I can see you're genuine. It's proof that you act and think exactly as you feel. And I like that." He reached out in the darkness, and I felt him take my hand.

"Okay, but ... why did you stop again?"

"You're relentless."

"You're dodging."

"Well if you really _must_ know, seeing you get all worked up about that song made me think about how crazy I am about you, that's all." He leaned toward me across the armrest, lifted his head slightly to peer at me, his faint smile making an inexcusable assault on my lungs. "And just think, it's only a twenty-first-century rock band. What would you say if we listened to Mozart or Beethoven? I don't know if I could handle an outburst of _that_ proportion."

"You wouldn't have to." I swallowed nervously, suddenly aware of his intention. "Beethoven? That expression of love can't be verbalized."

I knew it was coming, but his face being this close to mine was something I hadn't had time to get used to. Each time his skin had touched mine before now, in even the minutest of ways, I became faint. Now the proximity of his mouth was making my heart pound straight out of my chest. I had never felt this way about anyone. It terrified me.

"You're right," he declared, nodding. "It's only felt." He leaned in farther, placed his hand on the side of my face, pulling me toward him. I didn't flinch, as I so often did when Andrew touched me. Instead, I welcomed him. I was fiercely aware that the instant his mouth touched mine, I was no longer my own. He would love me or break me, the choice was his.

He slid his hand underneath my hair around the back of my neck. His fingertips glided over my skin, giving me goose bumps. Nope, definitely not the same chills Andrew gave me.

"Breathe, Camille," he whispered. "I won't bite." He chuckled softly. "But I _would_ like to kiss you."

I let a small breath escape my unreliable lungs as I nodded. The soft collision of his lips on mine shocked me with a jolt of pure electricity. My thought of a moment before had been correct. There would be no more war permitted in my mind's battlefield, for I had surrendered to being made his immortal captive.

Our lips parted and I lifted my hand to graze my fingers across the scar on his forehead. Looking into his eyes, my fresh existence inhaled, desperate for its first breath of air.

"Camille? You all right?" He sounded winded. No words yet.

"Camille. Talk to me. Are you all right love?" He looked concerned now.

Still nothing.

"Camille?" He grasped the sides of my face.

Finally, an alien on a new planet, I made my attempt at communication with the beautiful creature in front of me. " _What_ are you?" I gasped, my eyes locked on his.

"Uh ... _excuse me_? What?" His look of concern turned to confusion.

"No human being can possibly have this effect on someone," I repeated, still fascinated with my new discovery. "What _are_ you?"

He backed away slowly, leaned back in the driver's seat. "Camille, I didn't know kissing you would ..." He hesitated at my smile, took a deep breath. "I mean, I didn't know a human being could have that effect either." He leaned back toward me, relaxed again. "You have no idea how good this feels."

I laughed, more comfortable now with my foreign acquaintance. "Believe me, you couldn't possibly be more surprised than me right now."

7

TIS ALWAYS MORNING SOMEWHERE IN THE WORLD

"Don't you _dare_ make me pump you for details, Camille Hart."

Laughing, I put Audrey on speakerphone so I could rummage through my closet for something to wear. Over the past few days, she'd left massive numbers of frantic phone messages, checking up on me as promised. I finally called her back, and now she was doing what she did best, talking my ear off.

"It's about _time_ he kissed you," she said. "I was beginning to wonder if the guy was a monk or something. Come on, how was it? What did he say? What did he do? Give me _something_."

My bruises had faded at last. I pulled my spaghetti-strapped burgundy red dress that came to my knees off the hanger, pleased I could wear it again. I wedged my feet into some black heels and held the dress up in the mirror, making sure they complemented the dress. "I can't really explain it.... It was like ..."

"Amazing? Earth shattering? Intoxicating?"

"All of the above, but ... more like an out-of-body experience. If that's what one feels like, anyway. More than the average rush you get when you have your first kiss with someone you're attracted to, ya know?"

"No, but continue."

The dress went onto the bed and I swept my hair into a messy up-do, sticking bobby pins randomly as I spoke. "Sobering. Sort of metaphysical. It was so different. And my feelings for him are _different_. How was it kissing Gabe?"

"Well ... nothing to that extent, I guess. But powerful. I've never felt about anyone else the way I do about him."

"That's what I mean about Gavin. Incomparable. And he has this strange pull on me, like I naturally gravitate toward him." I shoved the last bobby pin into the pile of hair and started slipping into the dress. "So the minute he kissed me, I just felt completely centered."

"Give me a visual," she said.

I dropped the hanger onto the bed and followed it. "I need to go finish getting ready, we're going out to some kind of dinner theatre."

"Oh, fine," she whined. "Call me later tonight. Full report, I mean it!"

I pushed myself up off the bed, headed to the vanity to do my makeup. "I'll try, but don't wait up. I might be tired and crash the minute I walk in the door. Gavin's always insisting I need to get more sleep."

"Before midnight isn't _that_ late for you."

"What makes you think I'll be home before midnight?"

"Because. Gavin and Gabe never keep us out past midnight."

I blinked, hesitating with my lipstick in hand "Huh. Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Whatever. Just call me when you can, then. Everything else is okay though, right? No word from the monster?"

I sighed loudly, picked up my mascara. "Yes, I am fine. I swear. Nothing from him at all, he's history. Promise."

"Okay, good. Now go have a blast with that gorgeous, brooding musician of yours."

I picked up the phone again, grinned as I turned off the speaker. "I'm hanging up now."

I was saved from rudeness by a beeping on the line. "Okay, someone else is calling. See ya."

Audrey clicked off and I hit the button to switch to the other call. The voice that oozed through the speaker made the mascara brush drop from my hand and skitter across the table.

"You know, the spells don't work. In case you were wondering."

How could he possibly know about the spells? Terrified, my eyes darted around, fell on my bedroom window. I swallowed. "Spells? What are you talking about—?"

"Shut up and listen. You _really_ think I don't know what you've been up to?" He sighed, impatient. "Do yourself a favor, Camille. Save those minimum wage paychecks for that college degree you'll never earn, instead of blowing them on useless Hoodoo."

"Have you been _following_ me?" I choked out.

"You know, your new friends might be interested to know about your new hobby. Especially that idiot who can't seem to keep his hands off you."

"You were at the restaurant the other night, weren't you?"

"I'm _everywhere_ , Camille. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

"If you ever come near me again, I swear to God—"

"You're really in no position to be making threats, sweetheart. Next time you decide to try and put a spell on someone, make sure you know what you're getting yourself into, understand?"

"Stay the _hell_ away from me." That's all I could manage before I hung up. The dial tone pierced my ears, and I was never so glad for its loud and shrill sound.

The doorbell rang. Shaking, I took a last glance in the mirror, and by the time I opened the front door, thought I'd managed to compose myself. There stood Gavin, a lush bouquet of dark red roses in his hand.

"Wow, thank you, they're gorgeous." I fumbled my words, distracted by the black Armani suit he wore and the heart-stopping smile that complemented it. "And look, they match," I held the roses to my dress, trying my best to look interested.

"Ah, touché," he replied, wrapping his arm around my waist and kissing me, leaving me alive yet excruciatingly weak. "Camille ... you're shaking. What's wrong?"

I pulled away from him, tried steadying my nerves. I couldn't let Andrew ruin this for me! "Oh? Just cold, I guess. Let me just ... put these in a vase. Then we can go."

He reluctantly loosened his grip around my waist to follow me to the kitchen. I reached for a vase from a cabinet next to the refrigerator. Trying not to be obvious, I peered out the kitchen window and scanned the yard. He wasn't out there, but I realized if I didn't tell Gavin about Andrew soon, Andrew would beat me to it. "So, where exactly are we going, by the way?" I said, grateful that my voice didn't sound as shaky as before.

" _Hhmmm_ , thought I told you." He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. "Do you have _any_ idea how ravishing you look this evening, by the way?"

I saw his adoring gaze, and it broke my heart to think about ruining it. Later. I'd have to tell him, but it would be later.

I began unwrapping the bouquet on the counter, letting each bloom roll out of the tissue paper. Then I retrieved a knife from the drawer. "You only told me how to dress, and where we _might_ be going. You never told me any specifics."

"Well, I _am_ taking you to dinner and a theatre. But not quite a _dinner theatre_." He unfolded his arms, moving to lean on the stove.

"Really? Okay, where is the dinner, and where is the theatre?"

"Can't you let me surprise you, love?"

"I guess," I said, looking at him over my shoulder as I forcefully cut the end of each stem. I felt like I could put my fist through the window. I had to see Vivienne, had to find out why the spells didn't work. But she and Audrey were right. The police were the only option at this point. Why didn't I just go to them in the first place? "I can't help it," I said. "I'm used to having things planned. I like to know where I'm going and — Ouch!"

I jerked my hand and looked down at my throbbing index finger, now sliced open. "Ugh, that's what I get for not paying attention." I moved toward the kitchen sink. "Gav, can you hand me the dish towel?"

He didn't answer. I stopped and turned around. He was gone.

"Gav? Where'd you go?"

Still no answer. I began to move toward the doorway to look for him in the living room. My throbbing finger stopped me. I went to the sink and ran it under cool water, flinching at the sharp sting. I reached for the faucet to turn the water off when a cool hand grazed my back. I jumped, still shaken.

There he stood, a washcloth and first aid kit tucked under his arm. "Sorry I ducked out on you. As soon as I saw, I ran to the bathroom to grab the first aid stuff." He opened the kit as he spoke, pulled out an alcohol swab and some antibacterial ointment.

"Oh. Well, that was ... quick," I replied, perplexed. "How did you know the first aid kit was in the bathroom?"

He shrugged as he tore open the alcohol wipe. "Lucky guess. How deep is it?"

I looked. "Not very. It doesn't need stitches." I glanced at him, noticing he hadn't looked at the cut yet. That he was actually avoiding it with his eyes. I looked back, saw it had started to bleed again. "Huh. You love all of those old horror films. I never thought the sight of blood would bother you."

He grinned, tightened his grip on my palm and began to clean it. I winced. "That's different," he finally said. "The movies, I mean. Those leave so much to the imagination, you don't really see very much. Besides," he continued, reaching for the ointment, "seeing blood on TV is much easier than seeing it firsthand. In person, I can smell it. That makes a difference, believe me."

I watched him prepare to place a bandage on my now sticky, mangled finger. "Yeah, that's true," I said. "I hate the smell of blood too. It's disgusting. At least this is a small cut, though. Not too bad."

"Thankfully," he replied, smoothing the bandage around my finger. "I really wasn't planning on squeezing in a trip to the emergency room tonight." Smiling, he kissed my forehead. "You sure you're all right? You seem really tense. You need to talk?" He eyed the knife.

"Actually, there is something ... but—" The phone rang. I tossed the knife into the sink and rushed to my purse on the kitchen table. "But let's talk about it later, okay?"

"Okay," he said, and watched me rummage through my bag to find my keys. "Just one more thing and we can go." He nodded to the counter where I'd left the roses and quickly tucked them into the vase, then filled it with water. As he did, he said, "Glad it's me and not you doing this. If you fell in and drowned, I'm not sure I could revive you from _that_." Laughing, he tossed the bloody washcloth next to the sink.

"Be nice. I can take care of myself."

"You don't have to tell me that," he said while we headed for the front door, his hand leading me, my heart racing.

* * *

"I warned you it was too big for me," he said while he parked the car next to the house. _Quite an understatement_ , was all I could think. Gavin's driveway turned out to be a long dirt road that led us past enormous oak trees and rich tresses of Spanish moss that glistened in the sunset. I'd gasped when the elegant plantation home came into view. White with black shutters and gardens galore: stunning, as if I'd been time-warped into another era.

I sensed his eyes on me and turned my head to see him watching me, expectant. "Too big?" I said. "It's massive! What do you do with all the space?"

"Come on, I want to show you." He slid out of the car and held open my door, and led me up the polished porch stairs to the front door. An antique plaque hung next to the door, the words "The Duval Home" edged in age-darkened silver.

"I thought your last name was Devereaux," I said.

"It is. Duval was my mother's maiden name. My grandfather put that here, before he passed. To honor my mother." He spoke of his mother with a reverent sadness. It made me ache for him.

We walked into the main hall near a wide staircase and rounded the corner to what seemed some type of living room with Victorian furniture and long taupe drapes, a grand piano stationed in the far corner. A dark green color covered the walls, and wood floors with deep brown hues stretched across the room, making the light that poured in through the windows deftly dramatic.

"This is the only room I use besides the kitchen and my bathroom," he said. "I've left the other rooms alone since I moved in. All that stuff is mine." He pointed to the dozens of movies and piles of records lined up on the various bookshelves, along with a stereo and laptop that sat on a Queen Anne-style desk set against one wall.

"This must be so awesome, to live in a place like this," I said. "It has so much wisdom. It's beautiful. So you sleep in here, too?"

"Yup. I have everything I need right here. I rarely venture upstairs." He walked back toward the doorway, gesturing for me to follow. "Today's an exception, though."

We entered a bedroom whose drapes had been pulled, allowing no light to filter through. The entire room looked still inhabited, covers pulled back on the bed, jewelry astray on the vanity table, awaiting its next wearing. I could even smell the scent of a perfume, something sweet, floral. But the room itself smelled a little musty, as if it had tightly sealed in the scent for some time and was now finally able to breathe again. The rest of the room was perfectly maintained: no dust in sight, the dresser and bedside tables spotless.

"My mother's room," he said, leading me to the dresser. "She stayed with my grandfather for a while after my father died. This was hers, and I'd like to give it to you." He pulled open a modest wood jewelry box and retrieved a necklace. Holding it out to me, I could see the exquisite silver-toned vintage necklace held a crescent moon-shaped locket.

"I am in love with you, Camille," he declared. I took a step back.

"My father gave this to my mother years ago, and I can tell you that he loved her as much as I love you. My parents had a love that I could only hope for. And then I found you, and I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life. Please wear it?" He tried to restrain his boyish eagerness as he spoke, although his eyes sorely betrayed him.

I realized I had forgotten to breathe. This time there was no dysfunction with my lungs, but instead, I'd voluntarily held my breath. I was nervous, but oddly, not surprised; I knew it would come to this, knew we were meant to be together as though it was a physiological need. Only a few short weeks ago Gavin felt familiar, but still new. Tonight, I was sure I'd known him for years. As I stared into his sincere eyes, I saw the assurance of his love for me, and a straightforward understanding free of useless, idle talk, and above all else, complication. Something finally genuine. Exactly what I had been waiting for.

Now, here stood the beautiful light in my dark world, verbalizing for the first time something we both already knew. Waiting. Hoping that I would return his feelings.

I finally breathed, giving him a smile to show him my acceptance. "Of course I'll wear it. I love you, too."

"I know it seems so soon."

"It doesn't matter. You're what I want." I stepped toward him and turned around, lifted the hair from the back of my neck so he could put the necklace on me. He didn't move. I turned my head to the side to peer at him. "What's wrong?"

"You're so sure of me," he said. "I don't know how I possibly deserve you."

"Will you put the necklace on, already?"

He stared at me for another second, then slid it around my neck, closing the clasp. I turned around to look up at him, adjusted the locket around my neck. "I want to be with you," I said. "That's all that matters. I don't care how long it has or hasn't been. I know all I need to know about you."

His face began to tense up, and I could tell he was searching for his thoughts' words.

"I'm yours," I said. "And I'm not afraid of this." I searched for his eyes again. "Period."

"I don't even know what to say to that."

"Don't think so much." I moved my mouth to his and grazed his cheek with my bandaged hand. I felt him flinch as he kissed me, his neck stiffening with the movement. Suddenly clutching my wounded hand away from his cheek with immense force, he flung an arm around my waist and hurled me backward, pinning me up against the wall. I immediately felt Andrew's violent hands on me, and I fought to push them away. The heat from my cut pulsated, prompting me to cry out in pain, "Gavin, that hurts. _Stop!_ "

He jerked his eyes away from my face and stumbled backward, releasing me from his iron grip. I remained against the wall, my hands turned upward in a defensive position.

"I'm so sorry. Are you all right?" He hung his head, avoiding my eyes.

I stood still, staring at him. "I ... I guess I am. What's wrong? Why did you—?"

"I got carried away. I'm so sorry I hurt you, are you sure you're all right?" He pivoted his body sideways as he spoke, keeping his head low and his eyes still far from mine.I could see the anguish that seized his face. I was beyond confused. And alarmed.

"I'm fine now," I said. "But why won't you look at me?"

He didn't answer.

"Gavin? What's _wrong_ with you?" I moved away from the wall to approach him, pulling his face to mine, still baffled.

"Don't, Camille." He pulled away from me.

"Look at me," I pleaded. "Why are you so upset? I said I'm fine." I stepped next to him to search his face, placing myself directly in front of him so he couldn't turn farther away from me. I reached for him again, but stopped, my eyes glued on his. His normally soft chocolate eyes were now deepest black, those vibrant, soul-baring windows suddenly ghostly, glassy. I snapped my hand back from his face and rocked back on my heels, terrified.

He turned his head away to glare down at the floor for a second before he turned back to look at me.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just upset. I didn't mean to be so forceful with you when I know you've been ..."

As he spoke, his eyes resumed their rich brown hue, and I blinked, stunned at the change.

"Never mind," he mumbled, "let me look at your hand." He placed one cautious foot forward, as though careful not to frighten me.

"Your eyes. They were ..." I fixated on his face while he touched my hand, checking the bandage. "Your eyes. They looked black a second ago. They changed color."

"What?" He chuckled, an unfamiliar and erratic sound.

"Your eyes. They changed color right in front of me ... just now. And you wouldn't look at me."

His eyes narrowed, assessing my face in suspicion. "It must be the light in here. It's so dark." He sprang away from me toward a floor lamp placed in a far corner of the room. He flicked it on, then jetted across the room to return to my side.

The room lit with a soft orange glow, and I could see his eyes clearly again. They were their usual dark brown color, no trace of the onyx shade I'd seen mere seconds ago. He'd returned to checking my hand, and I sputtered, "It's fine, don't worry. But I could've sworn ... never mind." He was probably right. I decided to stick to the theory that every now and then, I went temporarily insane. An unsettling theory, but a believable one. One I could live with.

"I really am sorry, love." He smiled glumly. "See what happens when you surprise me like that?"

I smiled back, breathed. "I'll try to give you more of a warning next time. So, aren't you supposed to take me out to dinner soon?" Why not? I was borderline starving, and this was the perfect opportunity to shake my hallucination _and_ Andrew from my thoughts.

"Oh, of course," he said, laughing in visible relief. "Come with me, I have dinner all ready." He grabbed my good hand and led me out of the room, leaving the light on when he shut the door behind us.

* * *

"I told you we were going _out_ to dinner," he insisted. Unbeknownst to me, we were all dressed up to have dinner on the banks of the Bayou Teche. Under the moonlight, in the grass, around hundreds of swarming mosquitoes. The setting was so romantic, I couldn't complain about the bugs, just wobbled in my heels through the grass toward the water while he held my arm to steady me. This was why I hated heels. Because of times exactly like _this_. I pretended not to notice his smirk as he helped me settle onto the blanket he'd placed on the ground for us.

"I'm glad you're hungry," he said, opening the small cooler he'd carried with us. He pulled out two containers of food and some drinks, handing me one item at a time.

"Definitely hungry," I said. "What are we having? Smells delicious."

"Chicken parmesan, the way my dad used to make it. Out of this world, I promise."

I opened my container of food, moved my fork through the red sea of noodles. "It looks great. And this is a great idea for dinner, by the way. It's beautiful out here at night." I gazed up at the moon, then at its warm, mystical glow across the bayou's murky water.

"I'm glad you like it." He grinned, then took a healthy bite of his chicken.

"So, you like to cook, and your dad used to," I said. "What about your mom? Did she like to cook? I know you don't like talking about her very much, but—"

"No. She wasn't big on cooking, I mean. Dad was the cook in the family." He set his dish down. Leaning over, he picked up the locket around my neck, popped the little crescent open to show the inside. I looked down to examine it, placing my food down next to me.

"I don't blame you for wanting to know about my mom," he said. "I'm sorry I haven't told you much. It's hard for me. I know you understand that."

I nodded quietly, waited.

"The inscription's in French," he said, running his thumb over it. "It says 'If my heart had wings, it would be with you always.' Ironic that he gave this to her shortly before he died."

"How did he—?"

"Someone broke into the house one night. Mom wasn't home, and I was studying abroad. She blamed herself for a long time." He dropped the necklace and sat back with his knees up, rested his arms on them. "Mom moved in with my grandfather, lived here for a few months, worked on the garden, helped him around the house. But she was never really herself again. I was out of the country again, and I didn't know how bad things had gotten. I never got to say goodbye to her."

He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at my small black clutch next to me. "Would you mind sparing a cigarette?"

I froze, shocked at his request, but quickly obliged, taking one for myself.

"Apparently she just picked up and left one day," he continued. "Never told my grandpa — or anyone else. Left everything at the house, didn't take a picture of me or my father. Nothing." He exhaled a cloud of smoke, pushing it out of his lungs, and pointed to my necklace. "She left that on her pillow. Her way of letting us know why she left, I suppose. Before Grandpa passed, I moved in to help him out. When he told me he was giving me the house, he kept reassuring me she'd come back. Told me she must've needed to get away from the memories here. But, he also said I was the only piece of my father she had left, and she wouldn't leave me like that."

"He was in denial," I said softly.

"Yes."

"Did she ever—?"

"No. Five years now. He passed not long after I moved in, and he still hadn't heard from her. We weren't sure if she was still alive or if she ... took her own life."

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't anymore, though I did then. The only trace she left — besides the necklace — was an entry in her journal." He looked out at the water, distress in his voice. I let my cigarette burn.

"In her last entry she only wrote one line. About my father. _'The pain of my loss I can bear, but your lingering presence I cannot.'_ Grandpa and I decided that meant she intended to kill herself. It wasn't until a few years later that I realized she would never do that. It would have broken my dad's heart. That's why I'm sure she just ran away. She didn't leave to die."

He put out his cigarette, letting the last of the smoke free from his lungs. I said, "Gavin, I'm so sorry. For both you and your grandfather. I had no idea...."

"Thank you, love." He gently took my hand, turning to look at me. "For listening."

I took a last drag before putting mine out and shaking my head at him. "No. Thank _you_ for telling me. I can't imagine what it feels like for you. It's unfathomable." I felt a tear slide onto my cheek while I observed his face.

"Loss is familiar to you, too," he said, cupping his hand underneath my chin as he wiped the tear away with his thumb. The gentle action made me cry harder. He pushed our now cold food away and scooted next to me, wrapped his arms around me, kissed my forehead and rested his head over mine. " _Sssshhh_. I love you. If you only knew how much...."

I stifled my sobs to look up at him, in awe of his compassion.

"Please tell me ... what you wanted to tell me earlier," he whispered.

I shifted my body in his arms so I faced him. The last thing I wanted was to spoil the evening, and I definitely didn't want him getting in the middle of this. Besides, I had to take care of it on my own. "Oh, about my mom," I fibbed. "It would take an entire lifetime to even touch the surface."

"Who's the dramatic one _now_?"

"Oh, shut up." I nudged him. "I can give you the condensed version, though. That is, if you're sure you're up for it after talking about...."

"I'm up for it." He waited, rubbing my arm.

"Let's see. My mom is an addict, my dad has his problems, too. Mom wasn't around much while I was growing up because of her problems. Dad was in so much pain, he took off. She got worse ... a lot worse." I looked up at him. "She tried to kill herself a few times when I was in high school. She always covered it up, so I wouldn't be taken away from her. And I never told anyone. I'd lie for her, thought it would protect her. And me. So my relationship with her has been strained. Okay, well, more like severed."

I was mumbling by then, but he heard me. "When's the last time you spoke to her?"

"About three years. All I can say is that after years of her not being there when I needed her, it's had ... irrevocable consequences."

"Nothing is permanent unless you make it that way."

I threw my head into my hands as I began to feel myself crawl out of my skin again. I started to shake my arms, fending off the gnawing feeling. "You don't understand, Gavin. Both of my parents handled the end of their marriage in different ways. My dad disappeared and avoided it. Mom turned to more drugs. I wasn't surprised with how Dad handled it, but ... he left me with her, and I had no one. I was forced to be thirty at thirteen. It isn't a relationship that can just get better overnight."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what _are_ you saying?"

"Okay. I'm sorry. You aren't ready to talk to me about this. Let's change the subject."

I slipped out of his arms and stood, grabbed another cigarette from my clutch. I lit it and began pacing. "No. I am ready, I'm just not ... good at it. In case you haven't noticed."

"Just take your time."

I dropped back down on the blanket. "I'm so _angry_ with her. Yet I miss her so much. I moved here to get away from her, to start over, but — the memories are even stronger now. I'm consumed with them."

I tossed my cigarette down, smashing it. He reached over and pulled me on to his lap, placing me sideways so he could look at me.

"You're consumed because you're angry. Life is too short, too fragile to stay pissed off all the time. You have to forgive." He ran his fingers through my hair, kissing me on the forehead again.

"I _want_ to forgive her, Gav. I do. But I can't. Not yet. I've been to so many shrinks. I've tried to avoid, confront, and compartmentalize the relationship. None of it works. I just can't."

"Camille," he whispered. "How about forgiving _yourself_? Stop beating yourself up? It's not your job to save her." He pulled my face toward him. "Let it go so you can move on."

My tears halted in their ducts, absorbing the unexpected intercession. He continued to hold me as I turned my head away from him to stare up at the full moon's wisdom, watching it as it blinded me with its consummate beauty.

I tried, I really did, but the magic dissolved by the end of the evening, and Gavin sensed it too. As he drove me home, he said, "So, you didn't get to finish your dinner, and we missed the movie. I didn't do a very good job at showing you a good time tonight."

"Don't say that. It was very thoughtful of you to plan things out the way you did," I looked over at him from the passenger seat, flashed him a smile, then glanced down at the necklace, running my fingers over the locket in admiration, happy I didn't let Andrew ruin my entire time with Gavin. "This is the best gift anyone has ever given me. I couldn't have asked for a better time."

"Whatever you say," he replied in disbelief. "Let's see. You sliced your finger open, you cried the whole night, you starved, and to top it off, you missed the new Depp flick I know you were dying to see. I think you could've had a better time." He stretched his arm across the console to rub my neck as we continued to make our way back to my place.

"Gavin, please." I forced a laugh. "My finger is fine. Crying is nothing new for me. I can eat any time, and well ... you can make the movie up to me this weekend. We lost track of time, that's all."

"I am going to make this night up to you," he said. "I promise. And next time, not one word about either of our families, I swear." He chuckled, but it was cut off when he glanced at the dashboard clock. I could feel the car smoothly accelerate.

"What, you in a rush to get rid of me now?" I said.

"Hey now, that's not fair. You know if I had it my way, I'd keep you with me twenty-four hours a day."

"Well then, keep me. Let's go see a midnight showing of the movie now instead."

"No can do, love. This is one of my rules. You're home by midnight. You need your sleep."

"What kind of rule is that, anyway? I am a grown adult you know, I believe I know how much sleep I do or don't need. Aren't you kind of calling the kettle black? You told me _you_ stay up most of the night."

"I'm very aware you are capable of making your own decisions, thank you very much," he nudged his shoulder to mine jovially. "But I stay up all night because I don't have to work every morning. You do. I am not going to be the reason you're out all night, exhausted at work in the morning." He turned the steering wheel as we pulled onto the road that led to my house.

"Fine, whatever," I sulked. "But I think you should know I have a rule too, then."

"Oh?"

"Friday and Saturday nights, I get to stay up as late as I want. It's my weekend. No work. So there will be no carting me home before midnight if I don't want to be carted home. Got it?"

"Aahhh, we'll work on that one. Can't make any promises just yet," he said in a taunting tone.

I elbowed his ribcage, hoping to knock the stubbornness out of him. He just sat there and laughed, amused by my irritation, and I flopped back against the door.

As my pale yellow house came into view, my eyes focused past the white picket fence, fixing on a dark-colored vehicle parked at the front of the drive. When we edged closer, I could make out the vehicle's dingy blue color. The Ford pickup sat there, parked as if I were its owner, with no one inside.

8

CASE OF THE MONDAYS

"Whose truck is that?" Gavin asked as we pulled up next to it. He hovered over the steering wheel, tried to peer into its windows. "Who would be at your place this late?"

My stomach churned while I frantically scanned the front yard for him. "Um ... I think it might be a neighbor."

"Are you expecting someone?" He looked at me instead of the truck now.

"Definitely not." But he was right. This night was officially _bad_. I was about to pay for keeping Andrew a secret. Things were about to get much, _much_ , more complicated. I sighed loudly, reached for the car door handle, resigned myself to facing it head on. "I know who it is. Just let me handle this, okay? I'll explain afterward." I left him sitting there and trudged out of the car, made my way up to the porch, grinding my teeth.

"Camille?" Gavin called after me, stepped out of the car. I didn't turn around to look at him, just stormed up the dimly lit porch steps to find Andrew sitting on the rocking chair, a smug look on his face and a bouquet of my favorite flowers propped on his lap. I clenched my fists, glared at him.

"What are you _doing_ here, Andrew?"

"Aw, now what kind of welcome is that, sweetheart? Don't break my heart and tell me you haven't missed me, now." His lips curled into a malicious smile, and he stood up and held out the flowers.

"Is everything all right, Camille?" Gavin's voice came first, then his body as he came to stand beside me.

"Ah, who's this? You have a guest tonight, I see," Andrew assessed Gavin from head to toe. "He's more than welcome to join us, if you'd like," he said to me, keeping his eyes on Gavin.

"That won't be necessary," Gavin snapped, nostrils flared.

I sighed. "Andrew, this is Gavin. My boyfriend. Don't you dare start. I don't know what you think you're doing here at eleven-thirty at night, but I think it's time you go the hell home before I call the cops." I stepped closer to the front door.

"Wow! Look who's all brave now! I'm very impressed, darlin'." He moved closer to me. "Last time I checked, we were still together. I don't see anything wrong with stopping by my girlfriend's house to bring her flowers. Care to explain what's going on here?" He gave the bouquet a dramatic shove toward my chest as I reached for the door.

"I think you should take her up on her offer." Gavin moved in front of me to block him. Andrew examined his face for a moment, laughed before he took a step back. "You leave now, she won't call the cops and report you for trespassing."

"Now wait a minute." Andrew pushed his hands up to defend himself. "I do believe _you're_ entitled to an explanation as well, don't you agree?" He looked past Gavin's face to glare at me, smug. "Or hasn't she told you about me yet?"

Gavin shifted his eyes toward me, waited for me to respond. "You don't have to do this, Camille. We can go inside."

I stuck my house key into the door. "Andrew, this is none of your business. You know we're over, and you know I don't want you here. I will call the police. I mean it."

"Well, I must say, this is awfully rude of you to treat your guests like this," he gestured to Gavin. "But if you insist, I'll come back at a better time. When we have a little more privacy."

"No—"

"Absolutely not." Gavin shifted, but retained his protective stance.

"Look, Mr. _Devereaux_ ," Andrew rolled his eyes, "I appreciate your effort to try and be the hero here, but do yourself a favor and back off. You might be involved in this," he pointed to the three of us, "but what Camille and I discuss is _our_ business. And I'll speak to her about _our_ business whenever I like."

"Camille is my business," he gave Andrew a hard stare, "and I think it's clear she doesn't want you around. Stay away from her, understand?"

I glanced at Gavin as he spoke, wondering if he had any idea how much worse he'd just made this. Of course he didn't. He didn't know the half of it. And that was my fault.

"I see how this is going to be." Andrew chuckled to himself, turned his attention back to me. "Camille, sweetheart, when your _watchdog_ isn't around and you have some time to yourself, give me a call so we can chat, okay?"

"Leave, Andrew," I ordered him gritted through teeth.

He turned just long enough to place the flowers at the doorstep, then casually stepped around Gavin. "For you, Camille. I'll be seeing you."

He began to whistle, but stopped and leaned over to peck me on the cheek. I smacked him across the face the minute his lips touched my skin and he jerked his head back, a phony look of surprise on his face. "Oh, so feisty! That's what I love about her." He pointed to me, winked at Gavin. "She always knows how to show a guy a good time."

Gavin grimaced, and I shut my eyes, disgusted. I opened them when I heard him on the porch steps, and watched while he strolled off, stopping to take a speculative gander at Gavin's Maserati before he hopped into his truck. "And they say money can't buy love...." he sang while he pulled the door shut.

"I _told_ you to let me handle it. I said I would explain everything afterward. You didn't have to get in the middle of this, now you just made it ten times harder than it already is." I realized I was rambling, and that Andrew could probably still hear us out here on the porch. I unlocked and opened the door, stepped inside and waved at Gavin to come with me. Gavin remained on the porch, his face stubborn and unwilling to follow me.

"I was trying to watch out for you, Camille. He's dangerous," he replied calmly.

"You don't need to remind me." I dropped my keys on the table and turned to him, folded my arms. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you about him, and this was not _at all_ the way I intended for it to go."

The door still wide open, he stared off at Andrew's truck as it drove away, watched as it left a trail of dust behind it. He tightened his fists and it looked as if he were cutting off his circulation.

"Are you listening to me?" I walked closer to the front door, tried to get his attention.

"I have to go," he said. "It's getting late, it's almost midnight. Get some sleep, okay?" He glanced at me, but immediately moved his eyes back to the long dirt road in front of us. "Don't worry about all of this. We can talk about it tomorrow." He kissed me, picked up the flowers Andrew had left on the doorstep and turned to leave.

"What? Talk about it tomorrow? I thought you'd want to know what's going on—"

"I don't care who he is, Camille. Or who he _was_ to you, for that matter. Not right now. Look, lock the doors and keep the phone by you. I have to go." He rubbed my shoulder, then made his way down the porch steps.

"Please don't leave, can't you stay?" I called after him, "I feel bad you had to meet him like this." I stepped out the front door, hoped he'd turn around. Instead, he stepped farther away. He had to hear the truth, and I couldn't afford to be left alone now. Andrew knew about the spell, and apparently, it really pissed him off. And it was too late to go see Vivienne for help tonight. "Gavin, I'm afraid. Listen, I need to tell you something."

"I can't stay, I'm sorry, I'll see you tomorrow," he said, already hurrying toward his car. I stood there on the porch, crushed. I knew meeting Andrew would upset him, but I didn't expect him to shut down and refuse to talk to me.

He tossed the extravagant bouquet of pastel-colored roses next to his car, stepped on them as they struck the ground. The roses trampled and lifeless on the ground, he sped away.

I locked the doors and checked the windows, then set the phone on the bathroom counter while I took a hot shower. Listening to the thunder as it shook the house, I tried to sleep. The hard rain became a downpour and it hypnotized me, as did the old creaky shutters that banged back and forth against the house in their grappling with the elements.

Listening to the rain didn't help me calm myself, so I tried distraction, playing with the new, beautiful necklace around my neck, marveling at the locket's inscription while I pondered visiting Gavin's house for the first time. _The Duval house_. I pictured the elegant plaque in my head, stationed next to the home's front doors, saddened at the thought of his mother. I admired her maiden name, thinking how much it suited her, a woman I never even knew.

A memory flashed through my reflections, an intrusive rupture in my thoughts. In their confrontation, Andrew had called Gavin "Mr. Devereaux." Had known his last name. How was that possible?

I sat up in bed and ran my fingers through my hair, my mind spitting out a thousand possible theories to explain his knowledge, but only one had prevalence over the others: He must have known about Gavin, must have been digging up details on him.

I would get up early and go see Vivienne one last time, before I went to the police. She knew something I didn't, and perhaps it was time to start listening to her.

My mind raced, but the wind outside picked up and I felt my eyelids grow heavier and heavier as the storm coerced them to close, encouraging my brain to shut down for the evening. The shutters continued to rattle, the rain soothing the roof with its repetitious rhythm. I felt myself begin to float to the quiet place between deep sleep and a vague alertness.

A muffled noise echoed in the distance, glass breaking in slow motion. The sound smothered me and I tried to break through the limbo sleep–state of being awake, but not being able to move yet. My mind sent signals to my legs to move while my fingers twitched. At last my eyes shot open wide and I sat up, found I was sweating profusely. "What the..."

I cocked my head to the side to peek at the alarm clock. Two thirty. I'd been deeply asleep for almost two hours. In disbelief, I looked out the window to find the rain still coming down in soft sheets.

Standing up—I had to change out of my damp clothes—I wondered why I had awakened in a sweat. I didn't remember any dreams, and I knew I wasn't sick. I walked over to the dresser to grab a nightgown, when the sound of breaking glass echoed through the house once more, followed by a soft creak on the wood floor. Door hinges groaned and I froze in place, goose bumps forming on the back of my neck and arms. After grabbing the phone from the bedside table and the Glock from the bottom drawer, I steadied myself and moved into the hallway toward the kitchen, listening for any other sounds of intrusion. Gun in one hand, phone in the other, I scanned the kitchen, peered at the back door and out the kitchen sink window.

Turning to investigate the living room, I felt a sharp sting on the bottom of my foot. "Damn it." It made me wince and I crouched down to examine it in the dim light, afraid to flick the lights on just yet. My foot tensed and began to bleed as I plucked a shard of glass from it. Still crouched down, I pivoted around to look at the floor, stopped when I saw the scattered trail of broken glass.

Body frozen, my eyes followed the trail and zoned in on a fist-sized chunk of glass surrounded by small puddles of water, the base of a drinking glass that had toppled from the counter. Ignoring the distraction, I grasped the gun tighter and quivered when I sensed his presence moving in on me.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You won't be needing that." He appeared from the shadows near me—too near—and I shot up to stand, aimed the gun. Wondering if the dark was playing tricks on me, I blinked when I saw him. He looked astoundingly different: Flawlessly luminous, his pale, glassy skin cast a contrasting glow in the darkened room, lighting it up. His wicked smile intensified when he saw my expression.

Taking hold of the gun, he ripped it from my grasp and tossed out the ammunition with a few swift motions, then chucked the unloaded weapon across the room while he tore the phone from my other hand. Terror crept across my chest when I felt his overwhelming strength, and worsened when he squeezed the phone to pieces, crushing it in its entirety with ease. Aware now that my life was in danger, I sprang to the counter to grab a cutting knife, but Andrew beat me to it, clasped his hands viciously around my neck.

"You could have made this a lot easier, Camille. It truly is a pity to have to watch you die," he let out a sigh. "You give me so much life. It's such a waste." I reached my hands up to try to fight him off, but the effort failed and only made him angrier. His eyes turned a cold, dead black, and his body shook as he flung me across the room and into the kitchen table. I heard the impact of my body hitting the table, then falling to the ground, but couldn't feel it.

I stumbled and tried to stand, but couldn't make it onto both feet and held onto the table for support. Andrew stood still, scowled as I fell, his eyes frigid coals. Lunging toward me, he flew through the air, pounced like an animal moving in for the hunt. A sinister hiss escaped his mouth as razor sharp fangs came into clear view and my eyes zoned in on them, fought to reject the reality in front of me. He slammed into me and grabbed my shoulders, pinned me to the wall. With one swift slam to my face, he knocked the wind out of me. My jaw was on fire, though I didn't have time to feel the pain that followed; he took hold of my torso and slammed me backward again. Drawing on one last breath, I let out a scream as I felt a rib snap.

"Just think darlin', this is the last time you'll ever have to feel this kind of pain," he whispered, and sniffed the side of my neck before he let me slump in agony to the floor. "Your blood is intoxicating," he inhaled again. "Don't ask me how I refrained from it for so long." I shuddered when he crouched down to take in my scent again, let out another loud cry as I tried to pull away. "Truly, it was nothing short of torture," he said, and grabbed my aching jaw with his fervent hand. His piercing fangs inches from my neck, he breathed one solid, steady breath. "Hold still, sweetheart. It'll all be over soon."

With a victorious expression, he moved in. His black eyes beamed, and I noticed a hint of the familiar green push through the blackness, glowing. I felt his teeth graze my flesh, then halt before they punctured my neck, as though savoring the final instant before they tore through the flesh there.

He was there, and then he wasn't, as simple and as instantaneous as that. A resounding and invisible force had suddenly thrown him away from me and was hauling him straight into the kitchen window. A loud bang, and with my head pounding, I saw the windowpanes shatter and heard Andrew growl, enraged at this obstacle. Repositioning himself to attack, he sprung to his feet, his eyes now glued to something near the doorway. Shock was making me light-headed, but I scanned the room with hopes of seeing whatever force had momentarily repelled him from me.

Senses hazy, I rolled my eyes to the left, near the doorway, following Andrew's icy stare. I worked to focus through the dizziness and spotted the dark, blurry figure of a man in black. My heart stalled, ready to die a dreadful death, right there in my body's core. My heart sank when I saw Gavin, as though knowing it didn't have the strength to survive this.

There stood my beautiful contradiction, glaring at me, warning me not to move. The same harsh, onyx eyes and terrifying, serrated fangs that Andrew bared. I came to the sobering realization that I was not making it out of here alive, no matter what. I was bruised and bloodied in mind and body, surrounded by the most literal interpretation of monsters, and a final nail in the coffin—I was in love with one of them. The love and loss alone would kill me, if not for the mythical creatures standing in front of me, ready to beat love and loss to the punch.

Andrew shifted his eyes from me to Gavin; I cringed and reached for my broken rib when I met his gaze. Faster than my eyes could follow, both men flew forward and collided in front of me. Gavin managed to fight Andrew up against the kitchen counter, his hands clutched around his shoulders. "How dare you!" he roared, in a way I never thought possible. "You violate the laws and mock them, with the nerve to end it like this?"

Although I thought it inconceivable, I became more nauseated when I saw Gavin reach to his side and withdraw a long silver blade. He aimed the weapon at Andrew's chest, clearly ready to end his life.

"I wouldn't do that, Mr. Devereaux," Andrew singsonged, raised his eyebrows as he struggled against Gavin's death lock. "Samira knows what you're doing, you know. Knows about your precious pet," he smirked, held up his hands and peered down at the dagger that threatened his life. "You know killing me would only make things far worse for you and your..." The smirk widened. "Your damsel in distress."

"Your scare tactics won't work with me, you worthless leech, what about you?" Gavin tested, provoking him. "What does Samira know of you and Camille? Does she know how you've manipulated her laws, abused your powers, using and abusing a mortal like this?"

"Ah, the stench of hypocrisy."

Gavin ignored the jab and inched the blade to Andrew's chest, pressed it against his skin. A sizzling sound followed a faint trail of smoke that radiated off Andrew's chest when the blade made contact. Andrew's face flinched and Gavin stuck his forehead to his, infuriated.

"I highly doubt Samira would have more of a problem with my dinner for the evening than she would with your alternative lifestyle and forbidden love affair, _Romeo_." Andrew leaned forward to let the blade burn his skin further, meeting Gavin with a menacing challenge. "That goes for good old _Gabriel_ , too."

Without a second thought, Gavin thrust the knife forward, ready to send a hard jab to Andrew's chest. Dodging the deadly blade, Andrew jumped back and shoved his body onto the counter behind him for leverage, then kicked Gavin into the wall I cowered before. Gavin dropped the knife but caught it before it hit the floor, then rebounded. By then, Andrew was armed with his own shiny blade, ready to attack. Their postures animalistic, their stares lethal, they crept toward one another.

"Gavin. Think of Camille. Focus."

My mind was barely processing what I was seeing, but I had enough sense left to realize this low, husky voice was a new one. A familiar one.

A blurry vision of Gabe came to stand near Gavin, a third monster now hovering in my kitchen, with the same alien eyes and deadly canines. My eyes struggled to bring the inhuman version of Gabe into focus.

"That's right, Gavin. Focus," Andrew mocked, still dancing toward Gavin, ready to kill. Gabe hissed loudly and tightened his fists, placed one arm in front of Gavin to hold him back.

"My words are more than some petty scare tactic. You know what I say is true." Andrew spit out the words even as he relaxed his defensive posture, letting the knife fall from his hand to the floor with a thud. He strolled toward the kitchen door, his back to his enemies. "I must say, you are right, Mr. Devereaux. I might have defied the laws. Might have disobeyed beyond the point of exception," he pointed to the ceiling, giving credit to Gavin's accusations. "Ah, but _you_ ," he turned to peer at Gavin, his eyes restored to their natural green color, fangs no longer visible. " _You've_ done so much more than that," he glared at Gabe, including him in his condemnation. "You've changed the _order_ of things. You've not only _defied_ the laws, you've rewritten them entirely! I believe it's safe to assume that's something that is _strictly_ forbidden by our kind, wouldn't you say?"

Gavin clenched his jaw, fury burning in his eyes as he leered back at the monster that threatened him. "I shall truly enjoy watching Samira destroy you herself."

Slowly opening the door to make his escape, Andrew grinned at me one last time. Gavin hissed, resentfully following his gaze, while Gabe's arm still held him in place.

" _Bonne chance_ ," Andrew said, winked at me, then flew out the door.

9

PARADOX

"Camille, it's okay. Take it easy." Audrey wrestled me to the couch, restrained my shoulders; her wide eyes darted toward the kitchen, looking for help. "I caught a late flight from Seattle; I'm here to help you." My body felt heavy, my mind elated. I had never felt so strange in my life. In shock and extremely angry, I somehow managed to laugh at the mess that was my life. Swinging my arms, I fought Audrey's grasp and shoved my feet forward to kick her away from me. Pain pierced my side as I twisted, and a crushing convulsion moved through my torso when I breathed in deeply, preparing to yell some more. Gabe dashed from the kitchen and wrangled my rebellious legs, shot Audrey a look as he worked to hold me back.

"Hurry, Audrey," was all he said.

"Get the hell off of me." I hoped my high octave threatened their eardrums. "I mean it, let me _go_!" I took note of their glowing skin, in disbelief at how angelic they looked, their bodies statuesque.

"Listen to me, Camille. I will let you go, but you have to calm down." Audrey spoke evenly, tried to maintain eye contact with me. "We can't talk until you're being rational. You've been passed out for a few hours now. It's almost sunrise and you're going to have to miss work today, you need to stay home for a while until you heal."

Another breath, but this one to help me not yell. "You idiot, how do you expect me to be rational when you're holding me down like this, like a, a crazy person?"

"You are _acting_ like a crazy person."

"There are monsters in my house. How do you expect me to act? Am I asleep? Please God, tell me I'm asleep." I squirmed on the couch, felt agonizing pain as I contorted my body, then stopped because of the head rush. My breathing was so rapid I felt on the verge of hyperventilating, but I forced myself to focus on what Audrey was saying. I stared at her, my arms pinned to my aching sides. "Ah... ugh."

"You have a cracked rib." Audrey slowly released my arms when I stopped struggling, turned her head to motion to Gabe, giving him permission to let me go.

I lay still for a moment and worked to steady my breath, gently pushed myself up to prop my back on a pillow. " _What_ is going _on_?"

"Do you want something to drink? You look—"

"Tell me. Now."

"Andrew broke in while you were sleeping and tried to kill you." The words poured from her mouth.

"Tell me something I don't know. Am I dead— Are _we_ dead?"

She fought back a laugh, kept her eyes glued to mine. "No. Well, _you_ aren't, no."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"Gabe just wanted me to tell you this, to get it over with. But I think it's better if we take this slow...."

"Now. Before I pass out." I attempted to sit up, placed my hand on the side of head. My temples continued to throb.

She swallowed, exchanged a wary look with Gabe. "Gavin and Gabe... _and I_... we're not completely _human_ as you might have guessed by now."

I dropped my head back on the pillow, rested my arm across my forehead. "Not _human_. What a twisted world. Well, are you a new species, government weapons, what?"

Audrey glanced at Gabe, who sat on the loveseat looking amused and shocked at the same time. "She's not right yet, she needs to rest," he said.

"I'm fine, Gabe, thank you. I'm just recovering from a monster or alien attack—I'm not exactly sure which yet. So please do excuse me for not sounding _right_ quite yet."

"She's okay. Same old Camille," Audrey assured him, then turned to me again. "This isn't easy to explain. It's not going to make any sense...."

"Explain anyway. I can't be any closer to losing my mind than I am at the moment."

Her shoulders tensed and her lips parted; she nodded. "I'll try to keep it simple. Gavin saved you from Andrew. We're... something our world considers to be a myth."

"Why isn't Gavin here to tell me this himself?"

She looked away, so I glanced at Gabe. He'd suddenly found his shoes fascinating. _Cowards_.

"He didn't want to hurt you anymore than he already did," Audrey said. "I'm the one who needs to tell you this, Camille. _I'm_ the only one you'll listen to right now."

"But you just told me you're one of these _things_ too. Why would I listen to you?"

"I'm still your best friend. I wasn't changed into _this_ until just recently. I've been meaning to tell you, but there's so much... it's _too_ much."

"So please put things into perspective for me, then. I'm so pissed off that none of you told me the truth. I have zero patience right now."

"Clearly," Gabe muttered.

Audrey shushed him. "What I'm trying to say is, pardon the dramatics, but everything as you know it is about to change, do you understand that?"

I blinked, dizzy from seeing double. "The story of my life."

She rolled her eyes again at me. "Are you ready for this?"

She followed my gaze as I examined my sore side and new bruises. I waved my hands in the air, surrendered. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Okay," she said, adjusted her position on the couch. "We're vampires. They do exist in this world, and they _are_ dangerous. But it's different from what the films and books say it is, got it?"

" _Got it?_ " Gabe mocked her. "Audrey, what kind of explanation is that?"

"She can take it, trust me." She didn't bother to look at him, instead kept her eyes on mine, waited for my reaction.

I was oddly comforted by the fact that although clearly not mortal anymore, distinctive remnants of her personality remained. She still sounded like herself. The room started to spin again and I groaned, watched the blades on the ceiling fan push me further into vertigo. Or perhaps insanity.

"We won't hurt you, Camille." Careful not to frighten me, she reached out and rubbed my arm.

I sat up, felt the spinning slow, and stared at her, fuming. "I am _not_ afraid of you."

"Okay... good..." She blinked, confused.

"I'm angry at you. You _lied_ to me."

"I know. Wait. You're _not_... afraid?"

"I told you, she needs to lie down and rest. She's not ready for this, Aud." Gabe stood and walked to her side, but she ignored him.

"No," I said. "I knew something was weird, I just didn't want to face it. It doesn't exactly surprise me." And now that I was about to get some answers, I was able to speak calmly.

"Look, maybe you _should_ rest again for a while," she said. "We can check on you later— if you want us to, I mean." She made eye contact with Gabe, signaled him to leave. He made an unhurried stroll to the front door, gave her one solemn nod before he shut the door behind him.

"I don't want to rest. I want to know things." I propped another pillow behind me, adjusted it, mumbling to myself, "This must've been what Vivienne was trying to tell me, the reason the spells haven't worked." As soon as I was settled back on the pillow, I locked eyes with Audrey. "But for starters, why haven't you changed me? Or killed me? And I thought vampires were supposed to keep themselves secret."

She relaxed, laughed while she pushed herself down to the floor to sit next to the couch, giving me some space to move around. "That's _exactly_ why they didn't work."

"How did you—?"

"I know Vivienne. She's been trying to help you, but you're so stubborn. I know you have thousands of questions, but answer mine first. How are you not _at all_ surprised by this?" She gave that quirky raise of her eyebrows I knew so well.

"Gavin isn't like anyone else I've ever met." I shrugged. "His presence is strange. Like he's not real when I'm around him, like he's a ghost. I rush whenever I'm with him, almost like I have to hang onto every second before he disappears. And when we kiss..." I bit my lip and twisted my hair between my fingers. "I'm not afraid. If any of you were going to hurt me, you would have by now, I guess. And clearly, Andrew was the only one who meant me any harm."

"Well, you're definitely more conscious than Gabe gave you credit for." Though she kept cautious eyes on me, she chuckled.

"I'm freaked out, don't get me wrong," I raised my hands in front of my chest. "And I do have a ton of questions, but..."

"But what?"

"Gavin needs to be the one to explain this to me." I peered out the living room window, suddenly missing my other half. Never mind my other half was a vampire.

She watched the sadness invade my face, exhaled and scooted back on the couch to comfort me. I looked at her smooth porcelain skin, reached out to touch her. Other than that glowing soft skin and sharp fangs, she looked the same to me. Which seemed odd. I analyzed her face, curious. "Your eyes. They're normal."

"They turn black when we transform to hunt."

My eyes examined her neck for a bite mark, but instead found a tiny crescent-shaped mark, the same bizarre scar Gavin had on his forehead. She didn't protest when I reached out and ran my fingertip on the blemish. "What is it?"

"Our birthmark. It appears after we've been changed. Brands us. Gives the night official ownership of us. Everyone gets theirs somewhere different."

I stared in awe, annoyed by my own inquisitiveness. I should have been running, but could only think of a million more questions I wanted to ask. "I don't understand. You can live in the sunlight, though. How do you belong to the night?"

"The night is our prime time for feeding, specifically after midnight, until sunrise. The night changes us, heightens our senses and compels us to hunt."

The black eyes and rabid fangs I'd witnessed when Andrew attacked suddenly made more sense now, along with Gavin's strange behavior.

"Are you really...?"

"Undead? Yes." She replied quietly, a somber look on her face. "There's a lot to tell you. But first, you have to know that Gavin isn't here because he didn't want to make things worse. He knew you'd feel safer if I was the one to talk to you."

"Didn't want to make things worse? Ha." Anger surfaced again. "It's a bit late for that." I grabbed the blanket from my lap and hugged it closer to me. "Call me crazy, but I think it's wise to tell your girlfriend you're a vampire at the _onset_ of your relationship. You know, just to make sure you're both on the same page and all." I looked away, worried with my fingers, twisted them together.

"You're right, and he knows that, but he'll talk to you whenever you're ready. But I had to be here for you first, Camille. Talk to me. About all of this, before you go and see him. Please." She reached for me and I jumped, just realizing I was afraid of her quick movements. She recoiled her hand and carefully tucked both hands on her lap, looked down.

"I want to know about _you_ , first," I said. "How long have you been _this_? How did _you_ know vampires exist?" I laughed, in disbelief I was asking such things, yet not surprised by my new knowledge. This world was crazy and unpredictable. No one, no thing, no _monster_ had to convince me of that. For a long time now, I'd been aware that anything was possible in this life.

"I _didn't_ know they existed. I found out about Gabe before I flew home to Seattle. He told me the truth, and I wanted him to change me. I know how it sounds, but I had my reasons."

"And you didn't tell me about _Gavin_?"

"I knew you were safe with him. And it was his place to tell you, not mine."

"Unbelievable," I folded my arms, disgusted by the betrayal. "There is no valid reason to give up your life to be what you are now. Nothing can justify that."

"Gabe told me about Andrew last night, so I caught a redeye and flew down here. Then _this_ happened," she pointed to my battered body.

"What are you saying?"

"When Gavin and Gabe found out who Andrew was—that he was the one you were trying to break up with—they knew you were in danger, knew he was about to kill you. Knew they'd have to stop him when he tried. But saving you meant you'd find out the truth."

"So? They told _you_ the truth. What, were you all planning on lying to me until you decided to have me for lunch one day?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She pursed her lips. "Like I said, I wanted Gavin to tell you what he is, not me. And I found out by accident, as did you. And... this part's hard to explain... Gabe and Gavin have a way to break the curse. I wanted to be with Gabe, but if I were still human, I wouldn't be able to go with him, where he needs to go to break it. There was a chance that if he went, he wouldn't come back. And I couldn't lose him. I simply couldn't!"

She sat silent for a moment, let me absorb the absurdity. Then she said, "Andrew attacking you set things into motion. Gave us a reason to visit Samira sooner. She's the creator of our kind, the one who can lift the curse. "

Her _kind_? This was something straight from the Syfy Channel. "Your _creator_? Do you have any idea how deranged this sounds, Audrey?"

"Yes, Camille, I am very aware of it," she barked, impatient. "But you wanted answers, and I'm trying to give them to you. Just bear with me."

"Okay, go on," I sighed. "But at least start with your _species'_ specifics. You know, sunlight, diet, coffins, sleep schedule?"

"Uh. Okay." She stood up to reach for and hand me a glass of water from the coffee table, remained standing. "Well, for starters, I think you can guess our diet. We drink any kind of blood. Fortunately, there are plenty of us who have access to it: blood. Like Gabe. He was a doctor back in the day. Today, he has connections that can get us what we need, so we don't have to... feed traditionally. Hence, one of the reasons we had no need to kill you. The other specifics should be obvious." She smiled curtly. I rolled my eyes. Great. Not just a vamp, but a stand-up vamp. Nothing described _surreal_ quite like this did. Yet I listened with wide eager eyes, a fascinated child hearing the most fantastic bedtime story ever.

Yet there was one thing I still didn't know. "How do you know all of this if you were just changed so recently?"

"Gabe sort of gave me a crash course. But there were stories passed down in my family about my mother's great aunt being one of us years ago. I grew up with the assumption that they were just that, ghost stories or something. I never knew this stuff really existed, but when I found out... when Gabe told me... I had the strangest connection to it."

"I can't believe you never told me about this. You were always so... _normal_." My mind wandered, picturing the Audrey I knew in middle school, but I quickly reeled myself back into the conversation. "So let me get this straight. As long as you have your blood supplied, you don't have to _kill_?"

"Right. As for the sunlight, our eyes are sensitive to it, but it's manageable. Much more so when we feed."

I shivered at her words, pictured the black sunglasses that Gavin toted around like a safety blanket.

"Our bite is venomous," she continued. "We never bite, except with the intent to kill and feed, or to change someone. But blood isn't the only thing that sustains us."

"What do you mean?"

"Blood is our nutrition." She lit a cigarette for me. "Our basic sustenance. But we also use energy to thrive. To become stronger, more powerful. We draw energy from other people, draw from what they have: their weaknesses or their strengths, it depends. We have to get to know the person though, have to read them. We're all different kinds of readers."

"You can read minds? You know what I'm thinking right now?" I made a disgusted face and didn't care if she saw it. "If Gavin knew everything I ever thought, I'd die of embarrassment if I had to look him in the eyes ever again."

"No," she said, laughing, "not like that. We all read different _energies_ , not minds. We can tell what someone's good at, what their fears or strengths are, even what their desires are. With that knowledge, we know what we can, or what we shouldn't draw from the people we feed from. Gabe said that most of our kind uses it as an advantage in hunting, but some are just addicted to the power. It's how Samira designed us."

I finished my glass of water and looked down at my bruised and swollen body, took a drag off my cigarette while I assessed the damage. Oddly, the ribs I was certain were broken in the attack didn't hurt. "Did Gabe fix me?" I pointed to my ribs.

"It's nice to have a former surgeon around."

I set my glass down. "So, you _have_ to feed on blood and energy?"

"Blood, yes. Energy, no. Energy's optional. It's like an extra high, makes us stronger. Andrew was so powerful because he's been feeding off you since you met him. The longer we can feed on a single host, the more powerful we become, Gabe said. Andrew could read your ambitions, and was able to drain that energy from you. Once we find someone we can read, we know which buttons to push to weaken them. That allows us to feed off their vigor. A reader like Andrew can't drain _everyone_ who has aspirations, only those who possess strength in that area. And ambition is definitely your strength." She smiled to make it clear that was a compliment.

I was far from flattered; what she was saying had me too much in shock to feel anything else. I stared at the ceiling, aware my cigarette ashes were spilling onto the couch but unable to even tap them into the ashtray. "Andrew's been draining me all along."

She nodded while she wiped the ashes from the couch, shoved an ashtray underneath my arm. "It's allowed him to be much stronger than he would have been, living just on blood."

"Andrew sure milked me for all I was worth," I said, wincing as I shifted on the sofa. "Puts a totally new spin on that old saying, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "Samira forbids us from feeding off a host for too long. She won't allow a mortal to become a permanent power source for us. Her servants roam the earth as her watchdogs, and if they catch us doing that, we're destroyed."

I finally blinked, rubbed my cigarette into the ashtray, let her hand me another. "Are you sure you're okay?" she said. "You can go to bed, you know. I can leave you alone now."

"This changes everything."

She'd been standing the entire time; she began to pace. "I know. But you have to know that Gavin and Gabe are different. They choose to live differently than Samira wants us to. They don't hunt, don't take energy. Gavin's leading a resistance among our kind against her ways. And against our curse. Now it's causing quite the commotion."

"Where is this Samira person? And why do you and Gabe have to go there?"

"In a city called Amaranth. It's the only place the curse can be removed. She's the only one who can grant it." She stopped pacing and rushed to the kitchen to refill my empty water glass, at my side again in a flash. "Besides, word's gotten out about Gavin's leadership of an alternative lifestyle. She would've acted to stop him about that. Gavin figured he'd confront her, and, he has a plan. Gabe and I will be his support."

"Wait a minute. I thought you said Gavin was _defying_ her. You just said if Gabe went without you to see her, there was a chance he might not come back."

"Yes."

"And this was Gavin's idea—? Wait. So _none_ of you might make it back?"

"Yes, and yes." She flinched when she saw my reaction. "Look, nothing bad might happen. There's no guarantee what Samira will or won't do, to any of us, when we approach her. That's why I chose to go with Gabe," she scrutinized my face again, "but it's worth it, Camille. They've wanted to be free for a very long time. I promise you, Gavin plans on doing whatever's necessary to protect both of you."

To this point, I've been mostly able to take it all in. This was too much. "That's a crock, Audrey. How did he possibly plan on _protecting_ me, being what he is? By going to see this Samira person, he's on a death wish. He's going to kill himself. He's only bringing me down with him, nearly getting me killed last night. And you had a say in this. I didn't."

Hurt colored her expression. "To be fair, Camille, you didn't exactly fill him in about your history with Andrew. He didn't know Andrew was one of us until last night, before the attack. Gavin didn't put you in harm's way, he saved you. And he won't put you in danger if he can help it. _That's_ why you didn't have a say."

"Don't you dare talk to me about what's fair." My breathing grew rapid again and I felt blood thudding in my ears. "I was in danger _regardless_ of Andrew being in the picture. Gavin could have killed me himself, any of you could." Did she really think she could fool me into believing Gavin was the true-blue good guy in all this? "When did he plan on telling me this, then? Was he going to just drop the bomb when he left on his suicide mission?"

"I can only tell you this: He never meant for things to unfold this way, and there's a lot you don't know. No matter what you say, I know you love him. That's one thing you can't escape, whether you like the circumstances or not. And he loves _you_ , you know that. Neither one of you could've stopped this from happening, you would've found each other at some point. Finding your soul mate's inevitable."

I slammed my fist on the couch. "To have a soul mate, you must have a _soul_." The crippling pain in my side made a comeback as I pushed the words out.

"You should let _him_ talk to you about that." She moved away from me, smoothed out her shirt, folded her arms. "Are you ready to talk to him now? Let him explain."

"I need to rest. I don't feel like talking to another liar today." I knew it was a low blow, but as much as I loved Audrey, she deserved this. I flopped back onto the sofa and wrapped myself up. "Tell him to leave me alone."

She hung her head, but peeked at me from the corner of her eyes, then reached in and pulled a red flannel mojo bag from her purse and set it quietly on the coffee table. "From Vivienne. For the pain later."

She paused at the front window as she made her way to the door, watched the sun as it began to rise. "Please don't do something you may regret, Camille." She'd muttered this, her back to me, but I heard her.

Putting on her sunglasses, she stepped through the front door.

_Stupid, disloyal, lying vampire. What does she know?_ I closed my eyes and surrendered to sweet sleep.

10

CONFRONTATION

Days passed as I waited for my injuries to heal. Gabe left me some kind of phony doctor's note for work regarding my supposed car accident, and thankfully, fall classes didn't start for a few more weeks. Carol called the house several times, and I assured her I wouldn't be out of commission for much longer. Gabe kept an eye on the perimeter of my house for any reappearance of Andrew, and provided pain meds as I needed them, sometimes even when I didn't think I did. I resented taking the meds for the bond it suddenly gave me with my mother, but they helped.

I still didn't want to see Audrey. Although Gabe had broken my trust as well, it was less personal with him. As he catered to my every need, I grew fond of him. He had a good heart, and better intentions. Unfortunately, so did Gavin. But that didn't change things.

Audrey sent numerous notes and messages with Gabe for him to relay to me, but she wasn't the one I wanted to speak to. Gavin hadn't called or come to see me. Gabe told me Gavin was trying to give me my space, but I had enough space, pent up in the house for days, with plenty of time to think.

By the time I was ready to go back to work, his absence overwhelmed me, but I still wasn't sure if I was ready to face him. No matter what had happened, I missed him. He'd changed me in the strangest of ways. I didn't look down when I walked anymore, and I longed to see places I'd never seen and to learn things I'd never learned. He was pure, fresh air that expelled the poison I once ingested, stopped it before it claimed my life.

Audrey was right about one thing. I couldn't escape love, the very thing that kept me mobile since the day I realized I was capable of giving _and_ receiving it.

Happy to be done with my first day back at work, I went to see Vivienne. She was turning the "Open" sign to "Closed," but when she saw me, her eyes flew wide and she unlocked the door.

I handed over the pouch that Audrey gave me. "I didn't use the mojo bag. I had pain medication, but thanks anyway."

"Nah, this wasn't for physical pain, child. It was for a broken heart." She placed the bag back in my hand, closed it into a fist. "Findin' out what he was sure don't do your heart no good."

"How did you know about them?" I whispered, looked around. "Why didn't you tell me what they are—?"

She shushed me and turned to the record player behind the counter to turn the volume up, then led me through a brick dust-lined doorway, bones hanging above it, to a small, dark room.

"Listen nah child, I didn't know what ya were dealin' with 'til ya found out the spells weren't workin'. I tried to explain but ya jus' wouldn't listen. Truth is, we have a long history with the frozen souls, and it ain't never end good. But this one here that saved ya," she reached out and pointed to my chest, took my locket in her hand and held onto it, "he got some kinda fire in him, burnin' the ice, ya hear?"

"What does that mean? They have history with Voodoo? Tell me what I'm supposed to do."

"I'm no psychic, child. But as an ol' rootworker once said, no harm in followin' somethin' that feels right 'til ya discover it's the wrong road. This one here," she gently grasped the locket tighter and shook it, stared into my eyes, "he the beginning of things to come for the frozen souls. Don't be afraid, ya hear? Go see him before it's too late."

"Too late for what? Please, tell me about the history. Tell me what you know—"

"Another time, child, another time. Ya gon' listen to me this time or not?"

"I guess, but—"

"But nothin', nah. Scat!" She took me by the shoulders and spun me around, shooed me out the door like a fly.

Before I jumped on the highway, I took one last glance in the rearview mirror and eyed my tall black riding boots and burgundy dress, so nervous I could hardly think straight. I adjusted the crescent locket that dangled around my neck, wondered if Vivienne would ever tell me all she knew about the vampires. I threw the Jeep into reverse and made my way to the Duval house, ready to take her advice.

When I pulled up, the whole house was lit with a warm glow, illuminating the grounds surrounding it. I shuffled up to the porch; the first signs of a milder-than-usual Louisiana fall welcomed me as I approached the door. The familiar end-of-summer breeze swayed through the tall oaks while leaves danced lightly around my feet.

Not bothering to knock, I let myself in and entered the main corridor. An echo of beautiful music surrounded me, invited me in as I casually floated toward the night's fate. Curious, I wandered around the corner to Gavin's main living room area, entranced by the riveting melody that filled my ears, "Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata." My heart leaped at the sound of my favorite piece.

There Gavin sat, perched at the grand piano in the corner, his back to me as he played. I eyed his apparel, the same black suit he'd worn the night of our ill-fated date.

I allowed my feet to slide me toward where he sat, my eyes glued to the keys as fingers moved over them. When I neared the side of the bench, he didn't acknowledge my presence, didn't even move, but instead concluded the sonata. I walked to the enormous window that sat next to the piano and stared off into the night, and my hair blew against the side of my face as his feet lifted from the floor and flew next to me in a soft flash.

"You knew I was coming." I didn't look at him.

"Yes. Audrey said you might come tonight."

"Figures."

"I hate for you to see me like this."

At once I turned my eyes to his. The moon's grim hue shone on his pale, already luminous skin, his eyes darker than normal, yet not quite the dead black I'd seen the night of my attack. There was a heavy sadness in them, an apology lurking behind the irises.

"I would have seen you like this at some point," I said. "It's about time I see you as you are."

"Not telling you is inexcusable," he agreed, his sharp fangs revealing themselves from behind his lips as he spoke. At first sight, it was hard to look away. "I know that all of this is a lot to process."

"It alters my entire reality," I replied, letting my lingering hurt show. He looked down, tucked his hands in his pockets. "I just have to know one thing."

" _One_ thing?"

"What did you expect to happen? I mean, even if Andrew never came for me. If that whole night never happened. I would have found out, or you would've had to tell me anyway." I pried my eyes away from his teeth and back to his eyes, awaited his response. He began to speak but paused; the room filled with silence. "You planned on keeping it from me indefinitely, didn't you."

"No."

"So, what? You were just going to wait around until I accidentally stumbled over to your house after midnight to find you like _this_?"

"Camille, no. Nothing like that." He ran his hand across his forehead and through his hair. "There's so much you don't know, there's so much to explain." He sighed heavily, turned to stare out the window.

I straightened my posture and folded my arms, furrowed my brows. "So explain."

"I can promise you, I honestly never expected you to find out this way. Not in a million years. I had no idea you were seeing Andrew. That he was the one you were trying to get away from."

"Audrey told me. She said you and Gabe were forced to tell me the truth because of the attack. I can't even fathom how you honestly thought you could keep it from me in the first place."

"I wasn't planning on it being part of the equation. That's how I thought it would be possible."

I bit my lip and began to fidget, distracted by his fangs. "What are you talking about?"

"Look. I know this entire _thing_ is insane to you, but I was hoping I wouldn't be what I am... for much longer."

"By going to see Samira?"

He jutted his head backward. "You know about Samira?"

"You forget that your best friend is now in love with the nosiest vampire in the world. When she dishes details, she doesn't leave anything out."

"Oh, right," he started to chuckle but stopped himself. "Well, yes, that's a part of it. I planned on leaving with Gabe for a while and then coming back—"

"But you still _willingly_ got involved with me before you even knew for sure that this _creator_ of yours could grant your request. To make matters worse, you set _another_ vampire up with my best friend, my only family. You're responsible for what's happened to Audrey, too. She'll never be the same because of you." My voice grew shaky and I stepped farther away from him, wrapped my arms tight around my body.

"I know I don't deserve it," he said, his voice rough, "but please listen. Lying to you is the most selfish thing I've ever done, in all of my existence. I have no other defense than I had to know you. I felt like I would regret it for the duration of my eternity if I didn't. I just had to be near you."

He stepped closer to me, reached for my face. "Gabe and I were trying to live a new way, and... I got overly confident. I admit that. I was so convinced we could coexist, that our kind was capable of loving without hurting. I wanted to love a mortal as a mortal could. And then you came along...."

I pulled his hands from my face. My head didn't want to hear this, but my heart did.

"You weren't like other mortals," he continued, recoiled his hands, "you were so foreign to me, an absolute enigma. It drove me crazy. Most mortals instinctually steer clear of us, but you—" He leaned his weight on the ledge of the window, searched for my eyes again. "You were curious. Unabashed. And unafraid. Your courage astounded me. The day we met in Paris, you seemed so detached from this world and everything in it, like you'd been looking for something more than what it could offer. It seemed as if you'd been looking for centuries, without ever really knowing what you were after in the first place. The longing was written all over your face."

I wanted to run, wanted to cover my ears and block out his words. But my feet were cement, and I was desperate for his voice, desperate with the need to accept his confession.

"Before you walk away from me, you need to know why I love you." He reached again to place his hand on my face, and this time, I allowed it.

"That day in the bookstore, when you agreed to see me again, there was a look on your face. You had a hope in your eyes. The same longing I saw when we first met. Only this time I sensed... _relief_. I didn't know what you'd discovered, or what had changed. All I knew was that somehow, I had the privilege of being a part of it."

He pressed his forehead to mine, shut his eyes. "Your brokenness was a mystery to me, but I saw your motive through it. You had such a strong desire to love, to prevail," he kissed my forehead gently, pulled away to look at me once more. "It humbled me, and I knew instantly that I'd crossed paths with the most beautiful soul that has ever walked this earth."

"You read desires...."

"I haven't seen a heart as pure as yours in centuries." He smiled softly, relief in his voice.

I choked out, "You're not making this very easy for me... staying mad at you."

"You don't owe me anything, Camille. I have nothing to offer you, I know that now."

I took one step toward him, rested my hand on his chest. He cupped his arm over it and lifted up my chin to gaze into my eyes. "Why do you have to go see Samira? Audrey told me you could be killed. When did you expect to tell me you were leaving for such a dangerous place?"

He glanced out the window and slipped his arm around my lower back to hold me tight. "I planned on going before I knew you. Had a plan in place, but then I needed more time to prepare. Word spread about the resistance, and then I met you.... I can't put it off any longer. But there are many things you don't know, and I need for you to not worry about me."

"That's impossible."

"Samira is a threat. She's the mother of us all, the most powerful. But I have something she wants. It gives me some leverage to compromise."

"Can't you take some time? Think about it some more?"

"I have to go, Camille. I wanted to wait until you came to see me. I plan on leaving tonight."

"Tonight? No, please don't do this." I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled tighter to hold him in place. It felt so good to be near him again, to feel at home again.

"I'm sorry, but you can't talk me out of it. This might be the only way to make things right." He let me keep my arms around his neck.

Much as I hated to admit it, I knew he was right. There was no way I'd be able to stop him. There was too much to say and not enough time, so the most important thing came first. "The night Andrew came, you never let me explain anything."

He pushed his fingers through my hair and let the back of my neck rest on the palm of his hand. "You didn't have to. Once I realized he was one of us, I knew everything I needed to know. Nothing you had with him was real, the details didn't matter to me, still don't. I'm sorry I was so short with you that night, but I knew he'd come after you, knew I needed to act fast."

"Well for the record, there was no one before him... no one serious. You're it for me."

His smile, though brief, was as unexpected as it was warming. "You're it for me too, love," he said. "There's never been anyone remotely close to what you are to me. I've waited for you for centuries."

I didn't bother asking him his technical age. It was time to put us both out of our misery, time to end this yielding torture. "Gavin, I—"

"Please, don't." He stopped me, shut his eyes.

"I love you, but I can't do this—"

"I know," he silenced me, then suddenly leaned in and pulled my face to his, waited for my permission. I granted his request, pulled his mouth to mine and let him kiss me. His fangs dragged across my lips, dug into them as he pressed harder. Afflicted by his touch, I tore his face from mine. Defeat weighed his arms as they let me go.

"Don't kiss me like that," I said.

"Like what?"

"Like it's the last time."

"It's the best way, don't you think?" He grinned and pulled me in again, and I surrendered, a moth to a flame.

In silent agreement, before it became any harder to say goodbye, he led me out of the lofty house and towed me toward the Maserati instead of my Jeep. "I want to show you something. Will you come with me?" I agreed, and as we drove into the dark, he kept looking at me, aware of my discontent. "Ask whatever it is you're thinking. I know you have more questions."

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to take him up on his offer. I couldn't help but feel like I should discipline myself from getting any closer to him. Perhaps it was best to leave things as they were. I decided one last question couldn't hurt. "The night everything happened... I noticed the knives you had. Is silver what kills you?"

He waited for a moment to respond, as he often did to weigh his words. "Well... we're technically already—"

"Oh. Right," I said, neither of us looking at the other.

"Silver's just a pure metal that happens to slow us down greatly. After that, for one of us to be destroyed completely, our body must be... burned to ash." His voice solemn, he stared straight ahead and reached over to turn the radio on, quickly bringing it to a faint volume.

I let the conversation die there. Wherever we were headed, I hoped we'd be there soon.

11

UNVEILED

Gavin parked in seclusion, nestled somewhere in between a copse of trees and mangled piles of brush. I was so disoriented from the drive, I hadn't the slightest idea where we were. I only knew we were near a bayou, not far from the bank.

"We have to walk a little ways," he said, tucked his hands in his pants pockets after we got out of the car. We came to a clearing near the bank. An eerie, ominous vapor encroached across a wide section of the bayou. I looked out into the murky water, felt condensation form on my boots, glanced at Gavin's dress shoes and suit. "You're going to ruin your clothes out here, you know." I pointed to the damp, muddy earth beneath us.

"It's a valid loss," he replied glumly, looking out at the water. "I knew this was most likely the last time you'd want to see me. Figured I'd look presentable for it." He rolled his eyes from the ground to my face.

"Oh," I said, looked away. "Listen, can't we—"

"Get on with it?"

"Yeah," I answered, relieved. "We both know that regardless of how we feel about each other..."

"It's not going to work."

"I wish that weren't the truth."

"Don't worry. After tonight, you can see me on your own terms, I promise. I'm not holding you here. I want you to move on. There are no words to accurately express how sorry I am for the way things happened. Even _that_ sounds shamefully shallow."

"Moving on won't be that easy," I said, moved away from a puddle of muck I'd managed to step into. "I just want you to promise me you'll be careful, wherever you're going."

"I'll do my best."

"Promise me one more thing?"

"Anything."

"Can you let me know when you get back? I mean, will you tell me yourself... not send Audrey or Gabe to tell me? I need to hear it from you."

"If that's what you want."

"It is."

He reached out, probably to console me, stopped when he saw my defensive shield kick in.

"Why did you bring me here?" I struggled to sound indifferent.

"This is where I have to go," he said, subtly gesturing to the water next to us. "I didn't want to show you at first, but I figured you'd want to know." He stuffed his hands back in his pockets, jingled his keys nervously. "I thought I owed it to you to show you the truth, after I've kept it from you for so long." His eyes searched behind me, looked for something off in the distance. I didn't know what he was talking about. I looked at the dingy water, then back at him, perplexed. Around me, all I could see was swamp. The bayou was swallowed up, immersed in dirt and scattered debris. I realized I'd never seen a bayou quite like it, old and forgotten, with no signs of life. "Wait, what am I looking for?" My eyes surveyed the entire area, searched for whatever it was he was referring to.

Closely situated near the water, a haggard oak tree caught my attention. Distinct and far more ancient than the others surrounding it, heavy tendrils of Spanish moss hung from its massive branches, nearly engulfing our side of the bayou in its malicious shadow. The fog hovered seductive over the water, the crescent moon looming amidst the dark sky above it. My eyes zoned in on this sight, observed the filmy haze that clouded its radiance.

Tilting my head to look down at the locket draped across my chest, goose bumps made their way across my arms and I began to shiver as the temperature dropped drastically. In mere seconds, it was so cold I was able to see my breath, and I began to feel claustrophobic. "Gavin... what's going on...?"

Before he could answer, a faint rustling echoed from behind us. Because he waited and listened, I did.

"It's okay," he finally said, drawing his attention to one spot amidst the trees. The sound grew more prominent, and I followed his gaze to see what was coming toward us.

"What is it?" I asked. Branches snapped and the trees' leaves shook, but I still couldn't see anything.

"Gabe and Audrey. They'll be here soon, they're bringing a friend with them."

"Can you please tell me what's going on?"

"I told you we were leaving tonight," he said, his words careful. "This is where we have to go. This is the entrance to Amaranth. Since Gabe and Audrey are coming with me, I'm leaving a protector behind for you."

" _Amaranth_? You mean this is where Samira lives? Where is it?" Skeptical, I looked around; my heart beat faster in my chest, sensing something was wrong. Gavin rushed to my side.

"Amaranth is where we have to go to see her. Don't be afraid, everything will be explained to you." He rubbed my back, his eyes still darting around us, I thought for signs of our visitors.

"That sound... it's Audrey and Gabe?" A strong wind picked up, the air frigid on my skin. "What do you mean you're leaving a _protector_ for me?" Panic quickly spread, and I started to feel disoriented again, as if I was in some kind of a dream and couldn't wake up. Loose leaves and dirt swirled around my feet and tree branches started to sway as the rustling sound approached, louder now, perhaps only seconds away.

"A friend of ours is going to keep an eye on you while we're away, just to be safe."

"Keep an eye... I thought we were ending this. Why am I being dragged even farther into your world?" Though my teeth were chattering I felt sweat on my forehead, upset that I once again was kept out of the loop. Gabe didn't mention anything to me about going anywhere tonight. Not only was Gavin suddenly leaving, but apparently, he'd arranged for another vampire to watch over me like a child.

"You _are_ in my world now, Camille. I never meant for it to be this way, but it is, and we can't avoid it. Even when I'm not around anymore, Audrey _will_ be. You'll be exposed to this long after I'm gone. I just have to make sure you're safe until I get back. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you because of me... if I weren't here..." He swallowed, lowered his voice, "You didn't honestly think I was just going to leave you behind, all alone, with Andrew on the loose, did you?"

I blotted angry tears with my hands, knew my mascara was smearing everywhere. "I didn't _expect_ anything! Certainly not all three of you leaving tonight—in the middle of a swamp. Not to mention you assigning me a babysitter. I am so tired of being left in the dark about everything. I want to know what the hell is happening here."

"We're going to see Samira, and a very good friend of ours is going to take care of you while we're gone." He handed me his suit jacket, helped me shrug it on to stay warm. "When we get back, you'll have your best friend back, and you can see me on your own terms. That's it. That's what's happening."

"You mean _if_ you get back. If. You forgot that part."

" _When_ we get back," he challenged me, grabbed my shoulders. "You know Audrey better than Gabe or I ever will. She never would've become one of us and taken such a risk unless she strongly believed this would be successful. If you can't trust me, trust _her_. Please."

"I still don't understand how this is the entrance to this _Amaranth_ place," I replied stubbornly, wrapped his jacket tighter around me to shield myself from the relentless wind.

"This is the portal that takes us there."

The voice came from behind me. I spun around and looked up to see Gabe emerging from the trees, Audrey by his side. They floated gracefully to the ground, landed on two feet with virtually no sound. I felt my eyes literally bulging at the sight.

"Gavin's right, Camille," Audrey said, reached for Gabe's hand before the three of them moved in to surround me. "You don't have to be afraid... or angry about someone watching out for you. We're just trying to help you. To protect you."

To protect me? I felt like they were having some sort of intervention, about to spout off the twelve steps or something. Either that, or I was smack in the middle of some twisted rendition of _Rosemary's Baby_. "Wait, a portal?" I said, still shocked from the sight of seeing my friends in flight for the first time. "How did you guys know we were here, and how did you know I was coming to see Gavin tonight?" Suspicious, I peeked around for any signs of the other visitor. Or babysitter, or whatever.

"It was kind of a last-minute thing," Gabe answered, exchanged a look with Gavin. "We wanted to leave sooner, but knew Gavin was waiting to see you before we left, so we held out for a bit. Audrey had a feeling you'd come tonight though, and well... here we are."

As he'd said this, he scanned the foliage for our expected guest, shot Gavin and Audrey looks. It was starting to get on my last nerve. He noticed.

"Cam, I know this is a lot to take in right now," he offered. "We're all sorry it had to happen like this."

_Another empathetic vampire. How refreshing_. "So... when did you tell them I came to see you?" I asked Gavin, ignoring Gabe. My eyes jerked back and forth between my friends and the trees they emerged from, still recovering from the spectacle. "How did they know to meet us here?"

"We can tap into the minds of those in our coven ... it's something that develops over time. I told them to come."

I looked over at Audrey, realized she was now considered a part of their coven. We hadn't spoken or seen each other in weeks due to the turn our friendship had taken, but suddenly, it was a relief to see her.

"Hey, Cam," she greeted me, her voice meek, her body language vigilant. "How's the vampire drama coming along? You hanging in there?"

"Stupid question, Morticia Addams."

She chuckled lightly. "Morticia wasn't blonde."

I sniffled, unintentionally chuckled with her. I couldn't stay mad at her for much longer, regardless of what she was now. I loved her too much and the fight was too exhausting.

"Not dead yet?" She moved toward me prudently, peeked at my mouth, probably to search for a pair of fangs.

"Nope, still kickin'. A bit freaked out at the moment, though."

"Yeah, that'll wear off." She smiled warmly and stepped closer to hug me, checked with me first, with her eyes, to make sure it was okay.

"Oh, please. I know you won't bite. I missed you." I hugged her tight, and she looked to Gabe and Gavin before she let me go; I saw Gavin's face lighting up as he mouthed "thank you" to her.

"I can't believe you _fly_ ," I said, looked up at the trees again. "It's so unfair." In spite of Gavin's jacket, my teeth chattered as I spoke.

"It's not as glamorous as you think." She shook stray leaves from her hair as the wind blew them away.

"Okay," I turned to face Gavin and Gabe again, pleased with the Audrey peace treaty. "Now will someone please explain Amaranth to me before I have a heart attack over here?" I rubbed my forearms, tried to get warm as I eyed that eerie-looking bayou again. "I feel like I'm in a really trippy nightmare right now. Some clarity would be greatly appreciated."

Audrey and Gabe stepped back and faced Gavin, his cue to explain.

"Well... as Gabe was saying, this is the portal to get there. Amaranth is a city, an exile location for our kind. Samira guards the entrance to regulate who comes in and out, and to enforce the laws there."

"The crescent moon is present tonight," Gabe chimed in. "That's the only time we can enter." He pointed to the sky, tilted his head to peer up at it.

"You're telling me the _moon_ determines when you can go there." I cocked an eyebrow, adopted the same expression as when I was ten years old and my mother still tried to convince me there was a Santa Claus. I was simply not buying it. "Are you saying it's not... of this _world_?"

"You could put it like that," Gabe replied, squeezed Audrey's hand.

"It's not of this world, technically." Gavin marched past us to stand next to the distorted oak tree that had caught my attention only minutes ago. He felt the side of the robust trunk and slowly moved his hand to a random branch that I now realized was out of place. Thick yet brittle, it jutted out from the trunk, shorter and lower than the others. He gave it one hard downward push, and the branch creaked as it snapped like a rusty old door hinge, expelling dirt as it moved. Rigid instead of lifeless, it hung obediently at the tree's side, still attached. Gavin let go of it, and Gabe and Audrey shifted away from the water's edge; the wind still ruffled steadily around us.

All at once they turned to peer at the water under the glistening moonlight. I turned with them and watched as it began to bubble and sway, as though suddenly angry. Audrey and I moved farther from the water, cautious. Gabe and Gavin remained where they were.

The surface began to make graceful swirls in different directions, possessed by a force I couldn't see, the motion playing tricks on my eyes. An unsettling glimmer pushed through the surface and broke through, ascending from the floor of the bayou's surface. I continued to watch in astonishment as streams of beautiful transcendental light penetrated from the watery heaven, casting warm amethyst rays into our dark world. I squinted, tried to adjust to the light.

"This is where we have to go," I heard Gavin say. "It's the only way in or out." His eyes scanned the celestial movement, assessed its process before he glanced behind me toward the trees. "Joel's here. He can tell you everything you want to know. I know this all feels like a dream right now, but it'll be easier to understand with time... after this is over."

I pried my eyes from the magic in front of me to look at him, sadness sweeping over me at the realization of his pending departure. He stepped forward, looked straight at me and nodded at the unwelcome guest who I sensed now stood behind me. "Joel is one of my oldest friends. He knew my mother and father, and I trust him with my life. So should you. Stick with him, and you'll be safe." He tilted his head to the side to inspect the water's edge, made eye contact with Gabe and Audrey.

I didn't bother to acknowledge this Joel guy, but instead kept my eyes on Gavin, begged him with my eyes for some kind of closure before he left me a vagabond in this nightmare. "You don't have to do this." His suit jacket hung heavy on me, enveloped me in his scent, and I felt the need to inhale it deeply, wanted the smell to sit in my bones as a medium. My body grew limp, surrendering to the madness and loss that suddenly surrounded me—the loss that everyone was trying to convince me was only temporary, a madness that would never end.

Gavin gently took hold of my cold, lifeless hand. "I had hope," he clenched his jaw, "and for what it's worth, I still do." Eyes desperate, he leaned forward to kiss me, reached for my face, but stopped. "When I come back, if you'll have me, you have my word that I'll spend the rest of my human life making this up to you. I love you, Camille Hart."

With a grave countenance, he kissed me softly and let me go from his grip.

"Don't kiss me like it's the last time. Don't—"

Turning sharply, he joined Gabe and Audrey. He approached the water, his back to me, head hanging and shoulders stiff. My heart faltered, a flood of heartbreak, resentment, and fear all rushing through me. I watched, helpless, as he waded in to the water, inched forward slowly, step by step.

Irrational, I darted forward, but Audrey and Gabe rushed to stop me before I could get any closer. I shook their hands away from me to reach him one more time. "No, Gavin! Wait! Please, please, please, don't leave." My knees trembled, watched the water rise to his shoulders as he descended; his body slightly contorted and his arms and shoulders jerked as he fought the pull of water like quicksand, seizing more and more of his control every second.

The water made its way just below his chin and he finally surrendered, almost completely submerged. Tears nearly blinding me, I continued to struggle against Audrey and Gabe's grasp, heedless that I was no match for their superhuman strength. Eventually, I gave in. "Take me with you! Please!" Winded, I dashed toward the water again, Audrey and Gabe letting me fly right past them this time.

"You can't go, it's another realm!" Audrey shouted. "Mortals can't enter, you have to let him go!"

"I'll make sure he comes back," Gabe hollered.

For a split second, Gavin shifted his head and moved his eyes to focus on his hindsight, as though reluctantly considering my plea. I staggered forward, my feet nearly touching the water, ready to reach out and pull him to me. I extended my hand as far as it could go over the water's edge, let a long cold breath from my lips as I reached in despair, but my efforts, all of them, failed. He snapped his head back toward the dark abyss awaiting him and quickly disappeared beneath the violet emissions, the water bubbling as it signaled its victory. The darkness swallowed him up and I forced myself to commit the last image I had of him to memory.

Audrey's voice broke through my trance, and she and Gabe rushed to my side again to hold me up. "He's going to come back. We all are." She glared at me, looking as if she needed to convince herself. My eyes frozen on the water and shoulders slumped, I let my knees give out.

"Don't lie to me." My voice a whisper now.

"Too late," she muttered, letting Gabe take over for her before she backed away.

"Joel... can you?" Gabe prompted, then left my side to lead Audrey to the water. I barely noticed other arms enfolding me.

"I'm so sorry," Audrey mouthed before she turned to face the water, her eyes leaving mine as I began to go comatose. Gabe glared at Joel as he held me, gave him one firm nod. As they made their way into the bayou and waded further into its depths, Audrey's long hair slithered through the water in the descent, until the crown of her head was no longer visible. Gabe followed her, and I fell to the earth.

The firm, cold arms that had replaced Gabe's fell with me, let my weight rest against them. My eyelids fell shut and I heard nothing but the sound of night as the wind ceased and the roiling bayou came to a quiet halt. I could feel the temperature rise, the cold air dissipate as my lungs inhaled even, warm breaths again, and all was still as I slid further into an impassive solitude.

AMARANTH

The familiar cobalt blue bottles lined the fireplace windowsills, positioned to capture and destroy evil spirits. _Never understood that_ , I thought. _What does she need protection from, anyway? She's the evil one_.

"Madame. You have visitors," a small woman with a round face announced, and knelt gracefully before Samira's reverential throne.

"Leave," she demanded from her wicked place, the gothic altar she called home. Her long dagger nails draped across the extravagant crimson layers of her gown; she lightly lifted the gown's skirt and glided to the blazing fireplace situated behind the throne.

"Yes, Madame." The small woman left me with Gabe and Audrey, then scurried away, closing the wooden doors behind her. An image of Camille flickered in my mind, her face as I left her in the bayou. So broken, so confused. _How could I have left her like that_?

I turned my thoughts off, afraid Samira might penetrate them. I knew she didn't have access to our coven's thoughts; the magic limited her. But my instincts told me to take any and every caution.

"Hello, Samira," I replied, edged forward to stand in front of my friends. I hovered near the bottom of the granite steps, examined the sides of her Louis XV chair, my eyes searching for the wolves. She remained quiet, her back to me as she stared adoringly into the fire. Her bouffant raven locks sat perfectly disheveled on top of her head, outlining her chiseled figure in the light of the flames.

"Not to worry," she finally spoke, "Gérard's spell is still intact. Your thoughts are safe." She swung around to face me. "I am your creator, but he is the author as you very well know." She winked, wrapped the mojo bag's string tighter around her wrist, hugged it closer to her skin. "Truly, there is nothing more powerful than fire. It is most alluring in every way." Her rich Russian tongue cut fiercely as she spoke, with both precision and patience. "Warm and welcoming, it promises you comfort, life, endurance, and inevitably pain—for those who do not know how to respect its mighty sovereignty."

She smiled, her statuesque frame an intimidating canvas of self-assurance. "Surely, those that underestimate the privilege of its very presence will fall victim to peril."

Still facing me, she stretched out a hand and placed her fingers into the flames, amused as they danced harmlessly across her skin. "Fire is a loyal friend, do you agree Gavin?" She floated down the steps to meet me, swinging her gown's lace train behind her.

"With all due respect, Madame, I believe silence is the most loyal," I answered, speaking sternly as I extended my hand. "It never fails to tell you the truth."

She snickered, allowed me to kiss her hand. "We will have to agree to disagree, then."

I nodded, stepped back to stand with Gabe and Audrey. "Samira, you remember Gabe."

"But of course, it is a pleasure." She smiled curtly, dragged her nails across his chest, a curious creature who couldn't resist toying with a new object of interest.

"And... this is someone you haven't met yet." I looked over at Audrey, watched as Gabe approached Samira with her, his arm cautiously around her waist.

"Audrey. Welcome to our prestigious family. So happy you could join us, my child." Again, her inquisitive nails couldn't resist. She raked them through Audrey's hair, her fierce eyes assessing her new child.

"Th-th-thank you," Audrey stumbled, eying the daggers warily.

"You've heard about Audrey, have you?" Gabe said.

"News travels quickly here, you know. Like wildfire."

"Apparently," he mumbled, glanced at me.

"Come closer, my new child. Let me see that pretty face." Samira tilted her head to seek out Audrey's' timid eyes, pleased by her fear. "You know, we are family now. We should become better acquainted. Why is it you have decided to join our family, my love?"

Audrey's eyes reluctantly darted toward Gabe before she answered. "I wanted to be with Gabe and I— I admire your family, Your Majesty."

" _Hhhhmmm_ , I see," she breathed, her crystal blue eyes fixed on Audrey's neck, nails lightly peeling across her collarbone. "Dali. Akim. Come."

She lifted her chin, looked to one side of her, then the other. Two magnificent gray wolves appeared amongst the room's shadows, from where they had been lurking. They stalked past the rows of dimly lit candelabras toward their master, stationed themselves next to her, one on each side. Their eyes matching hers, they stared at us, waited for their next command. Gabe and I exchanged looks, cautioned one another as the wolves joined our company. They were Samira's old conjure mates in wolf form, and as far as I was concerned, just as deadly as she was, only they probably housed more rage since she made them that way.

"That is a brave compliment to pay, my child," Samira continued, glanced at her pets, stepped a few inches closer to Audrey as she swung her sleek cape behind her. "I must say it is an unfortunate contradiction, however. You see, you have chosen to join our family so recently, yet you already long to be sent to exile. Is that not why you are here?" She turned to question Audrey. "To ask for permission to enter?"

"Yes, that is our request." I answered for her.

"I see...."

"Gabe and I no longer wish to be among the living." A lump stuck in my throat and I worked hard to restrain my fear, to reveal only honesty and boldness. "This was my family's home. And as for Audrey, well, she does respect your rule, but this is not a lifestyle she wishes to pursue after all. She's had a change of heart."

"Oh, has she?"

"Y-y-y-e-s-s-s, your Highness," Audrey murmured, twisted her hands together.

Samira stepped closer to examine her fangs, her pets moving wherever she moved. "So it's not what you thought it was, is it my dear?"

Audrey swallowed and cowered her head, her shoulders caved as Samira circled her. "No, Madame. I'm sorry to say it's not."

"You are being sincere. Of that I am sure." She ran one single blood-red nail across Audrey's crescent scar, skimming her flesh. "It is a pity you have foolishly given up your mortality for such a tragedy, my child. Fortunately for you, I am both willing and bound to put aside your insult and grant you admission to exile. And of course, Gabe, you may join her. You disobeyed, getting involved with a mortal," she spoke with her hands, waved them matter-of-factly, "but you did change her, followed through as you are expected to."

Gabe looked at me, then back at Samira, ready to object if the permission didn't include both of us. "Madame, I—"

"Silence. We will get to that." Her expression suspicious, she made her way back to the throne, eyebrows raised. "As for you, Gavin. Your disobedience is quite different. I am certain you are aware of the situation that needs to be discussed, regarding some recent news that was brought to my attention." Once seated, she turned to me.

"Yes. I am aware," I said, calculating my next move.

"This blatant disregard for my rules amuses you, does it?"

"It's far from amusing."

"Then do explain your motivation to lead this movement, to encourage our kind to mingle with mortals and to abstain from their blood, to protect them. These relationships are strictly prohibited, unless you intend to change them, as you are well aware." She patted Dali and Akim's luxurious fur coats, her eyes glued to mine. "Gérard has allowed our magic to have power over mortals, to manipulate them. You dare insult your history, your own father conjurer, by letting it go to waste?"

She grasped her mojo bag, her nails closing in over it, nostrils flaring. "Although I am bound to send your friends to exile, my mercy for them is a generosity. At the least! Rest assured, I will not be mocked by this atrocity you have stirred up among our kind. Our loyalty lies with Gérard, and there will be no camaraderie with the mortals. They are either our sustenance, or they become one of us. If this troubles you enough, you go into exile. There is no need to discuss this further."

"I understand, Samira. Please believe me, I did not mean to disrespect your laws. I came to request forgiveness and entry to Amaranth. For myself, and for my friends here. I know now it is not possible to live successfully outside of the law. I was wrong."

"What about this mortal of yours, the one you committed the crime with?"

Audrey began to shake. Understandable. I myself could hardly bear hearing Samira speak of Camille so chillingly. Gabe discreetly took her hand to comfort her, listened intently for Samira's verdict.

"I'm no longer involved with her. It's over." I clenched my jaw and looked down, unable to talk about Camille in the past tense.

"Rightfully so." Samira snapped. "It is absurd to confuse our kind on earth, to make them think there is another way to live. It is an absolute _insult_ to Gérard, who created a place for you to go into exile. It is a luxury! Is that not enough?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The cold room stood silent except for the subtle tapping of Samira's nails on the armrest of the throne chair. Dali and Akim patiently turned to look up at their master's face, their eyes reverent. Samira rose from her chair and shouted, "Marie, come here at once!" In moments, her small, frail assistant appeared and kneeled before the throne.

"Your mother was very dear to me, my child," she continued, speaking to me like a relative who actually gave a damn. "The struggle she and your father endured truly breaks my heart," she placed a claw-like hand over her chest to express sympathy. "Because of that, I will graciously excuse you from execution and grant you entrance... under one condition—"

"Guilty or not, there is no condition to those sincerely requesting exile. You are bound!" Gabe's voice boomed as he proclaimed the truth, his arms tight with rage.

Her eyes widened and she turned to him. I cringed, afraid the plan to get inside the gates of exile had just failed.

"You _dare_!" She shouted and thrust her hand forward toward him. Sharp yet seductive, her hand swirled through the air; her force propelled him from the ground, flinging him backward. The blue bottles shook above the fireplace and he flew into the rigid stone wall, knocked the elegant candelabras clear across the room as he crashed through them. Dali and Akim rushed to stand below him as he hung in agony, pinned against the wall, standing guard of their enemy while Samira laughed. "I do believe you are pushing your luck, child."

Audrey shrieked and dropped to the floor, covered her eyes with her hands. Knowing I was powerless to help Gabe, I remained still and obedient, careful not to blow my only chance. The red of Samira's nails jumped out at me like serpents, her fingers pointing to my chest, holding me in place with the same force.

She immediately glanced at Marie, prompted her to stand next to me. "Listen wisely, Mr. Devereaux, be careful that you do not offend me like your precious friend, here. I am bound to grant your request to exile, but I am in no way required to dismiss your punishment for defying my laws before you enter. I will not kill you, but you must pay, do you understand?"

I looked over at Gabe hanging on the wall and pictured Camille's face once more, then responded with vengeance. "I can pay you in service. Would that be acceptable to you?"

Samira laughed. "Ha! What service could you possibly offer _me_ , child? A good laugh, I suppose?"

"No." I stepped forward, determined to get past the city's gates as soon as possible. Indifferent, she stared back at me, waited for my proposal.

"Instead of punishing me, how about utilizing me? Make use of my gifts. The resistance on earth is the least of your worries. The immortals have heard of the resistance that has been building right here, within the walls of the city. It's no longer a secret."

"How do you know of this?"

"Word from your servants has traveled outside of this realm. It's a threat to the future of Amaranth, you know it is. If your servants turn against you with the resistance, you can lose your entire kingdom."

"My servants..." Samira glanced accusingly at Marie, then rose from her chair and glided forward to meet me, her eyes cutting into mine once more. "You are fearless," she said, released her hold on me, "and your boldness is most refreshing." She smiled for a moment, then quickly moved her fist in front of my stomach, twisted it tightly and turned it sideways in the air, turning an invisible, deadly switch. I buckled over as her intangible force crippled my arms; my hands clawed to grasp my stomach in horror. She continued to wrench her fist in front of me, her lips curling with delight as she watched me cry out. I fought the pain, tried envisioning what it'd feel like to hold Camille in my arms again someday.

"Please, stop it!" Audrey screamed, yanked her hair as she pleaded, curled up on the floor. Gabe still hung lifeless on the stone wall. Unable to speak, he watched me crumble under Samira's strength.

"Lest you forget who is in control of this situation, my child, let me remind you," she hissed. " _I_ determine what a threat is. You have nothing of value to me, do you understand? If I recruit any help from you, it is because I _command_ it. I do not bargain with insignificant, defiant immortals." She paused for a moment and held her deathly pull on me. "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes—I understand!" I shouted, my teeth grinding as I writhed.

"Very well," she casually dropped her hand back to her side, immediately ceasing my pain. "Now, then. How could I possibly use you?"

I gasped for air as I pried my arms away from my torso, the torment dissipating. Samira watched passively while I fought to keep my balance. "I... read desires, as you know." I cringed, straightened my body out. "But... not only my reading ability is of use to you."

"Oh?"

"I have leadership qualities, as strong as my father's. I can lead the people back into submission, I can stop the resistance here. And my reading can supplement that. It can help manipulate the people's efforts and restore their obedience."

" _Hhm_... so eager to give me what I want..." she began to pace as she considered my thoughts. Every few seconds she glanced at Audrey and Gabe, irritated by their witness of our discussion. "What is in it for you?" she barked, "You have gone to great lengths to oppose my laws, why would you want to strengthen them? Why the, the... what is the word? Oh yes... what is the change of heart?" She stopped pacing, hand to her chin, nails waiting and ready.

"My parents," I replied. "They died because the war got so out of control. They've been gone for years, but I can't let it go. I owe it to them to help restore peace here. They always wanted me to be a part of it."

"Is that all?"

"That's everything."

She pondered my partial honesty for a moment, turned her back to me to stare into the fire. "Well I must say, you are very relatable to humans. Just as your parents were. And in that case, it might work to my advantage." She intensified the fire with her ravenous power. "Your father was indeed a fine leader. Perhaps a fresh influence such as yourself would be beneficial in this city."

Without looking over at Gabe, she released him from the wall with one swish of her wrist, intent on the conversation. He dropped to the floor with a thud, and Dali and Akim trotted away from him and, back to her side. "Very well. You will help me lead and restore the city's order. You shall convince the Amaranthians to submit to my law again. After that, you will stop the resistance you started on earth. Only then will you be admitted to live in exile. I will announce your arrival when I see fit."

"Thank you, Samira."

"Marie, take him to the tower at once. Escort the other two to the city gate for entrance."

"Right away, Madame." Marie hurried to my side and yanked me by the shirtsleeve.

I made eye contact with Gabe and Audrey one last time before she rushed me out of the room, called out, "See you soon."

Once in my cell, I allowed myself to concentrate on Gabe's thoughts again, listened to them as he observed Marie's return to Samira. She returned with Victor, another servant, to lead Gabe and Audrey to the city's gates as instructed. The reception was barely audible, I was too far away, but I fought to zone in and listened harder.

"Victor, you take them," Samira said. "Marie, you stay here with me."

"Of course, Madame," Victor acknowledged, moved to escort Gabe and Audrey out. As Gabe was taken away, I caught one last fragment of the conversation.

"Find the girl and bring her to me, Marie. Leave not one scratch on her body," Samira said. "And do make haste."

12

IT'S MY PARTY AND I'LL CRY IF I WANT TO

"Let me help you out," a deep, austere voice offered beside me. I opened my eyes and gasped, realizing I was in Gavin's car, but the steering wheel sat on the right-hand side. Curled up in the passenger's seat with a throw blanket tossed across my lap, I looked over at the driver, still in a daze.

I cleared my throat, still groggy, looked around for my little yellow house. "No it's okay. I can get out myself. Wait, where are we?"

"La Boîte Noire. You're safe with me." He extended his hand across the console to introduce himself. "I'm Joel."

Right. The _babysitter_. I glanced at his hand then ignored it while I tossed the blanket on the floor of the car. "Thanks, but I can take it from here. I just want to go home." I reached for the car door, but he was in front of me before I could step out.

"You're far from home. I need you to stay with me for a while."

"Look, don't take this personally or anything but... I've met plenty of vampires for one week, and I really have no desire to get to know another one." I squeezed past him into the darkness, let my eyes adjust.

I couldn't see much, only a narrow brick building with a single red door, wedged in between a few other old buildings. The door was arched, the blood-red paint tattered. I looked for windows but didn't see any, glanced around for the building's most convenient escape. A damp cobblestone street and a lone streetlight giving sparse light made my surroundings feel like a small European town. In the distance I could hear British accents, moving toward the other end of the street.

"Impossible," I whispered, listened closely.

"Nope, you're definitely in London." Joel closed the car door. "Not in Kansas anymore, princess."

I gawked at Joel in disbelief. Similar to Gavin and Gabe, he wore all black—combat boots and subtle brooding included. He reminded me of a gypsy, earthy and wise, as if his life had taken him to many interesting places. A vast display of art sprawled across his arms; his parted but unkempt brown hair just barely passed his shoulders. He was the first vampire I'd met who had a darker, golden complexion. My mind wrestled with the possibilities. Cherokee Indian, maybe some Greek, a little French, I couldn't tell.

"You can't be serious." I squatted to sit on the side of the street, my head in my hands, in disbelief at how insane a turn my life had taken since I moved to Louisiana. Now I was hanging out with vampires on the streets of London. "We're not even in the _States_? What about Gavin's car?" I looked up at him. "Did we _fly_ it across the Atlantic Ocean to get here?"

"Please. We fly, the cars don't." He walked over to me and took my hand, pulled me up from the curb. Odd, but it felt as if I'd known him for years. Could it be that I had more chemistry with my new vampire friends than I had with many human friends I'd made over the course of my lifetime?

"Gavin has a spare ride here. This is where we hang out, come on."

I allowed him to lead me through the red door of the building.

"So spoiled," I mumbled, annoyed as he towed me through a loud crowd. "This is where you two hang out? Why didn't he ever tell me about this place?" I had to yell over the noise.

He turned around and looked at me. "Why didn't he tell you? _Really_ , Camille?"

"Oh. Right. Got it." And I did. I guess it wasn't ideal to volunteer information about your vampire haven to your mortal girlfriend. "Well, why are you bringing me here now? I thought you were being bribed to keep me _away_ from your kind."

"Those weren't the instructions," he hollered back. "I'm keeping you away from Andrew, in particular. And for the record, I'm not being bribed. Gavin's a friend of mine."

Awestruck, I followed him through the clouds of smoke, observed the hordes of monsters around me. Glasses in hand and fangs bared, some huddled around the small stage to watch the band play; others talked intimately on smooth, sultry-red-velvet couches that looked like they belonged in the eighteenth century. Black eyes followed me as I walked, made me feel as if I'd inadvertently rung the dinner bell.

"Here, have a seat." He led me to a pub table in the back corner of the club. It was still noisy, but secluded enough to have a conversation without having to yell at one another.

I sat at the table with my arms folded, glanced warily around me. "I should be home."

"No one is going to hurt you when you're with me."

"I've heard that one before." I shot him a dirty look, kept my guard up.

He sighed, ordered us drinks. Growing tired of me already, I was sure. I could relate. I was tired of myself.

"All right. Enough of the sulking. I brought you here to explain things to you, I thought that's what you wanted."

"No, I don't want—"

"What _do_ you want?"

I looked at my beer, smelled it before I took a swig, just to make sure. "I want out of this nightmare I wound up in, that's what I want. And I'm not sulking."

"No. You're just wallowing." Joel took a sip of his drink, glanced around at our many observers.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you are? I just met you, and you're already insulting me. You have no idea what a rollercoaster this has been for me. It's like one big freak show. My own personal horror romance movie."

A couple sat down at a table next to ours. The woman whispered something as she peeked over at me. I looked away when we made eye contact.

"Actually, I do know a little something about what it feels like to be thrown into a world of monsters without any prior warning." He gestured for our server again. _That was fast_.

A tall, lanky blond man eyed me as he approached the table. "What can I get you?"

"I'll take another warm light, please, and another beer for my friend." The waiter nodded, turned to head back to the bar.

"Is that what you're drinking? _Warm blood_?" I shuddered, made a disgusted look.

"What do you think we drink in here? Relax."

"You're right." I exaggerated my smile. "Relaxing sounds like a great idea, thank you."

He chuckled.

"I could be drinking _your_ blood right now, but I choose not to. What would you prefer, princess?" He smiled, smug.

"Well they obviously serve normal drinks here. Why not have one of those?"

"This place is specifically for those of us who choose to live differently. Once in a while an informed mortal shows up, so we give you options. I can't drink the normal stuff, doesn't do anything for me. This, on the other hand," he raised his empty glass, "is unfortunately necessary nutrition."

I peered back over at the couple next to us, watched the woman order her drink. "You're still living off of the same stuff... How is that really any different?"

"I understand your argument, believe me. The difference is, we don't hunt. We still have to survive, and this is the best we can do."

I unfolded my arms. "Well, it sure doesn't seem like _they're_ used to having mortals in this place very often."

"We're used to it. It's still hard, though. Requires restraint. Mortals are bound to draw our attention, we can't help it."

"I thought your coven were the only ones who've attempted to live differently with humans, to not hunt them. Thought that's why Samira's after you guys. There's an entire _club_ of you guys?"

Joel reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, offered me one. "That's not entirely the whole story," he said, lit both cigarettes. "The resistance—or, the opposite of how Samira wants us to live—has been around for centuries. Gatherings, just like this, have popped up around the globe. There are plenty of us who don't want to be heartless, bloodthirsty monsters. But we've been able to maintain a level of secrecy, even from Samira. We created a sort of code, in case she ever found out about any of us."

I took a drag off my cigarette, let the smoke sit in my lungs for a minute. "What's the code?"

"We lie." He grinned, took our drinks from the waiter.

"Lie? To Samira?" I took my nice, normal, human beer, gripped it tight in my hand.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. We swear to secrecy and vow to defend one another, so that no one is found guilty. No witnesses, no crime. Samira's servants roam and keep tabs, but we've been able to keep things pretty quiet."

"But what about those of you who choose to rat you out? Like Andrew?"

"Most of them aren't dumb enough to tell Samira. It's bad news for everyone involved. We've done a pretty good job at keeping our secret from those who find out about us and threaten to expose us. Occasionally we do have to... keep them quiet. But as for those like Andrew, we usually don't have to worry about them ratting us out. They've been breaking rules of their own. Samira's not oblivious. She knows our kind has been trying to invent ways to resist the curse for a very long time. She's aware it goes on. The attempt, anyway. But a group of vampires that successfully maintains the lifestyle? She doesn't believe it's possible."

He took the last sip of his drink and put his cigarette out. "In many ways, it isn't. Not for very long, and she knows that. That's where Amaranth comes in."

I put out my cigarette, too, and repositioned myself in my seat. "Why doesn't everyone who wants to live this way just go to Amaranth, then?"

"It's not the ideal place to go." He looked at me, eyes cautious. "What exactly did Gavin tell you about it?"

I shrugged, tried to recall the specifics. "Not much, really. Something to do with exile, right? I think Audrey mentioned you can go there to have the curse removed or something...."

"Yeah, that's a part of it." Joel sat quiet for a moment, sliding his glass back and forth between his hands. "It's for those of us who've requested the curse to be removed. On the surface, sounds like a good thing, I guess."

"Sounds good to me."

"Samira's bound to send us there, if we sincerely request it. But it's not without sacrifice, obviously. It's a _banishing_ , not a luxury vacation. For our desire to be lifted out of the cursed state, we have the privilege to live as a mortal. No bloodlust plaguing us, no more deaths on our conscience. A chance to be freed from the life we have to live here on earth. But in turn, we're cut off from the world, from anyone we've left here on earth and we're overseen by Samira herself—directly. For the remainder of eternity." He looked up from his glass to analyze my face.

It took a second for it to sink in. "Once you're in, you never get out," I whispered, then stood to leave.

Joel nodded.

"You're saying he's never coming back. You brought me here to tell me he's never coming back. None of them are. I can't believe this."

I darted away from the table, so angry I felt like I could punch a hole in the wall. Weaving my way through the crowd of swaying monsters, I moved swiftly toward the exit.

"Camille!" Joel's voice boomed from the back of the building, and I knew in just a few seconds, he would be next to me. I had to move fast, had to get out of here. Now I was stuck in London with no way home, and no one to help. Panicked, I pushed through the front door with force, took a deep breath of fresh air. My eyes darted around the street, tried to focus, searched for signs of any humans. It was late though, and the alley was barren. Before I had a chance to hightail it to the end of the sidewalk, my body was whisked into the night, back into Gavin's spare Maserati.

I kicked the dashboard with my feet, reached for the door handle, squirmed frantically in the passenger seat. "Stop it. Will you just let me go? I don't want this anymore."

He reached across me to hold the door shut, waited. My struggle was no match for his strength of course, so I surrendered, having recently learned that lesson.

"Camille, you have to listen to me. Running from this is not going to solve anything."

"There's nothing left to say. If you're telling me he's gone, then there's nothing left to talk about. Every part of me I had left is gone now, do you understand that? Everything I just rebuilt—demolished. The ones I love are gone, and they've done nothing but betray me." I slumped into the seat, wrestled with tears.

"You didn't let me finish, and you're not listening." He released the door handle and sat back against the driver's seat, sighed heavily. "I didn't bring you here to tell you he's not coming back. I brought you here to tell you his plan. He didn't go to Amaranth just to confront Samira and lift his curse: He went to _defeat_ her. He knows what he's doing, and he didn't lie to you about that."

"How—?" My stomach churned. "How is that possible? I know nothing about this other world of yours, other than what you've told me. But I'm smart enough to recognize a stupid idea when I hear one. Attempting to defeat your ruler is downright _stupid_."

"He's not stuck in Amaranth until Samira grants him permission to enter past the gates. And he doesn't just plan on barging in and fighting with her. He wouldn't do something that careless, you know him better than that."

I sat quietly, considering his words, and wrapped Gavin's oversized suit jacket tighter around me to keep warm.

"Camille... what I brought you here to tell you is, this is worth fighting for. He has a plan. You don't have to understand it right now, but if you stick around long enough, I guarantee you will. In time."

I pulled my feet off the dash and slowly swerved in the seat to face him, bit my lip as I collected my thoughts. "Well then. Tell me the plan, if that's what you brought me here to do. Because I really don't understand why Gavin would show me all of this. I mean, what was the point? If he knew we couldn't be together...."

Joel readjusted himself in his seat before he put on his seatbelt. "He took you to the bayou because he meant what he said to you. He wants you to move on, wanted you to be there when he went to Amaranth so you could have closure, so you _could_ move on. He felt the only way to do that was to show you the truth, show you where he was going and what he really was."

He started the car, waited for me to put my seatbelt on. "Bottom line is, I didn't bring you here just to explain things to you. I brought you so you could make a decision."

I snapped my belt into place, wondered where he was taking me next. "What decision?"

"Whether you're going to let go of him or not." He set the gear to drive, kept his foot on the brake. "Because I really believe whatever you have with him is worth fighting for, and I owe it to him to try and make sure he doesn't lose the one thing he loves in this world."

I looked at him, absorbed his sincerity. "Love isn't enough, Joel."

"It's always enough."

"Not under these circumstances."

" _Especially_ under these circumstances. Where's the victory without opposition?" Hitting the gas, he sped off and led us into the night.

13

HUMANITY

"I don't know what I'm going to do about work or fall classes when I go home," I said to Joel while I rummaged through ancient editions of books on his shelves. Built into the walls of his small flat, the white shelves housed almost every classic title imaginable, all organized by author name. This man took his literature seriously. My respect for his passion had ignited a slew of conversations about our favorite reads while we lounged on his worn plaid couch, sipping coffee. How I talked him into drinking some, I'll never know. For some reason, he was open to cooperating with me. Maybe it had something to do with flying me—literally—to London against my will and holding me captive. Yeah, that was probably it.

I watched him sip the coffee slowly, wondered what it tasted like for a vampire. "I just hope my boss doesn't drill me for every single detail, you know? I don't have the mental energy for that right now."

"Then don't give it to her, she'll live. I'm sure she can satisfy her need for some salacious gossip with some of those tabloid magazines from your store." He laughed, tossed a copy of _East of Eden_ onto the coffee table. "It'll be okay. I think it'll be good for you to get back and get your mind on other things. I'll be around, waiting in the wings, just in case."

"I appreciate it, but I really don't think Andrew will try _that_ again."

"Better safe than sorry."

"What is it with you monsters and your reading materials? I've never met anyone who reads as much as you and Gavin do. Where have you been all of my life?" As I changed the subject, I batted my eyelashes. Relieved I was able to laugh after the night we'd had, I decided I didn't want to talk about going back to normalcy just yet.

"When you live forever, life becomes a tad daunting," he retorted, laughing, set his coffee down. "Reading helps pass the time, not to mention keeps us up with the times. It's interesting to see how society's changed over the centuries."

"I'd love nothing more than to read all day, every day."

"Maybe you should try walking in our shoes for a bit."

"Maybe. That way I'd have the time." I smiled, reflected on my workdays, wishing I had more time to dig my nose in the many books I worked around. "Maybe I was meant to be one of you after all."

"Don't joke."

"Who's joking?"

"No one chooses this life, Camille. Don't even talk about it casually, there's nothing casual about it."

"Seriously. Have any of you ever... I mean, has Gavin mentioned it to you?"

"Changing you?"

"Yeah." I nodded, sat up on the couch.

He tensed up a bit, looking uncomfortable. "I don't think I'm the one to—"

"Yes you are. Tell me."

"I changed someone. A long time ago. I thought she was the love of my life."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Live and learn, I suppose. Anyway, she's in Amaranth now. She left many, many years ago. I'll never change anyone again. Ever."

I placed my hand over his, felt the guilt that oozed from his voice, even after years. "It was her choice though, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. I guess every now and then, for whatever irrational reason, someone _does_ choose this life. She begged me for a long time, thought hiding our relationship was getting too tedious. It was, but there was no other way. Either way we'd have to hide, whether she was changed or not. We were living against Samira's rules back then, too. If we didn't hide, we both would've ended up in Amaranth. Life here becomes too difficult."

I thought back to our conversation at La Boîte Noire, and how Joel had mentioned Amaranth being a _banishing_. It still didn't sound like such a bad place to me. "Is the idea of living there really so awful? I mean, considering the alternative?"

"For me, yes. Gavin, Gabe and I have considered it over the years, believe me. But knowing what we know about it, the alternative is," he gestured to his tiny living room, "less depressing."

He stood and grabbed his guitar, then sat back next to me, strummed it lightly as we talked. "Anyway, you and Gavin aren't like me and Arianna. We weren't meant to be together. Gavin is different. For you, he's willing to move heaven and earth to find a way to be with you. He won't give up, and he wouldn't change you. Not in a million years." He looked out the window, watched the rain as it dribbled down the sides of the glass. "I made my decision not to follow Arianna. I have to live with that."

He stopped strumming and reached over to put his hand on mine. "What can you live with?"

"I'm not sure." I grasped his hand. "I know what I _can't_ live with."

"That's a start."

"I can't go back to Louisiana now, even though it's my only option. I can't go back to that town, back to my little hole-in-the-wall job. I'll just be a zombie. It's not going to be the same without him, and I can't live with that."

He gently sat his guitar down when he saw my tears, scooted across the couch to wrap me up in his bear arms. I placed my head on his chest and let myself feel again.

"Then don't live with it." He said this softly, held me tight. "You love him, don't you?"

"I didn't plan for it to be this way—"

"Forget plans, Camille. Do you love him?"

"Yes, of course I do." I looked up at him, frustrated.

"Then stop complicating things." He squeezed me tighter. "These were the cards you were dealt, right? As crazy as the cards are, work with them. Don't sit around moping about it or trying to get away from it. Work with what you've got."

I used his shirt to dry my eyes and pulled a bit away from him. "I don't know how to do that. And _you_ fell in love with a human, look what happened to you two. The same thing will happen to Gavin and me. We'll end up hiding or going to this exile city, it's impossible."

"But regardless of what you two choose, you'll be together. That's what I mean when I say you two are different. Arianna and I couldn't agree, couldn't find any middle ground. Eventually she wanted out of this world, and I couldn't bring myself to give it up. We wanted different things."

He held my chin and looked at me, made me wonder if he was considering having me for dinner. "You're right," he said. "It's extremely difficult, either way you decide to go. So why would you decide to take the difficult road that the one you love won't be on?"

"You said he wants me to move on."

"Of course he does. He doesn't want you to hurt because of him. But just because he wants you to move on doesn't mean you can't wait for him." He got up, pulled a blanket from an old cedar chest near the couch and handed it to me. "You've had a rough night. I can take you home in a few hours once you've had some rest, okay?"

"No." I took the blanket from him and laid it across my lap. "I can't sleep."

"Please, just try."

"I want to stay for a few days. I'm not ready to go home yet, I just got here."

He looked at me, eased back down on the couch. "A few hours ago you nearly clawed yourself out of the car to get away from me, and now you want to hang out for a few days."

"You're not so bad after all. And besides," I nodded toward the window, "it's raining. I hate flying in the rain."

He grinned, looked at me in disbelief. "What about your job?"

"I'll figure it out. I need a little more time."

"Well, I brought you here with the hopes that you'd stay for a little bit. You're just making my job easier."

"Maybe I'll go sightseeing tomorrow. I've always wanted to see London—"

He cleared his throat, stood again. "I can't have you gallivanting around this city right now, it's not safe."

"I won't go by myself, you can come with me. You have all the time in the world, right?" I pleaded with my hands, gave him the puppy dog eyes.

"All right. I can't argue with that." Smiling, he headed for the door. "I'm going to run out and grab some human food, since you're going to be here for a while. I won't be far." He slipped into his jacket and picked up his wallet. "Stay put, kiddo."

"Okay, thanks." I listened as he locked the door behind him.

Skimming the bookshelves again to find something to read myself to sleep, a small brown journal with scribbles and drawings on the cover caught my eye. I flipped it open, figuring it couldn't be too personal if it was left sitting on the shelf. About halfway through, I examined what appeared to be a journal entry of some sort.

February 3rd, 1890

My Love,

It's been some time since the crescent moon, yet I find myself still waiting for your return. Do I entertain such foolish thoughts? I cannot seem to simply let you fade, even when I am aware your love is my demise. You should know the men are growing impatient and seemingly restless lately. I am beginning to wonder what Samira intends to do about it, and I must admit I fear for our safety. I will continue to wait at the gate every month so that I may see your warm eyes and hear your wise voice again. Do pray that my head will catch up with my heart and soon shake me from my naïve deceptions.

Yours in eternity,

Arianna

I immediately shut the book, felt the worn leather binding with the tips of my fingers. Stepping to the window, I looked past the sheets of rain that watered the sidewalk and down into the street, suddenly felt like I'd stumbled upon something intimate. A wave of empathy moved through me, of feeling for the girl who'd left her love behind. She clearly missed him, and I sensed the regret in her words. Her longing reminded me of a conversation I had with my mother when I was younger, not too long after she and my father split up.

" _That's the problem with life, you know_ ," she said to me one afternoon, atop the Space Needle. " _Once you know something, you can never unknow it. Truth doesn't let you do that._ " She looked out over Puget Sound and placed her hands inside her warm coat pockets, her light breath visible against the gray sky. " _That's the tragedy of knowledge._ "

I could still see the heaviness in her eyes and hear the defeat in her voice. She hadn't said much else to me that afternoon, but when she finally spoke, I knew exactly what she was referring to—the knowledge of my father and his string of affairs, the ones that fueled her addictions. She spent ten years hoping to fight it, stuff it away, or change it. Acceptance wasn't an option. I imagined that was how Arianna felt, living with her decision.

"Camille?" Joel walked in, his long brown hair damp. "You all right?" He dropped some bags on the kitchen counter and noticed the journal in my hands, then set his keys down.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry." I set the book on the coffee table and folded my arms, kept my distance from him.

"It's personal, but not off limits. Don't worry about it."

"Let me help you with that," I said, rushed over to help put the food away.

"She gave it to me the last time I saw her. In case you were wondering."

I placed milk and eggs in the fridge. "It must've been really hard for you, to read those things. I can't imagine."

"It was. It _is_." He tossed oranges into a big wood bowl, offered me one.

"Thanks." I began peeling it with my fingers, unable to concentrate on anything but the sadness in his eyes. "What happened there? In Amaranth."

He handed me a knife to cut my orange, plopped onto a barstool at the counter. "It's a long story."

"When are you going to tell me why Gavin's doing this? The reason he wants to defeat her. It's more than just her laws, I know it is."

He looked at me for a moment, and I stopped cutting my orange, made sure he had my undivided attention. "There is more to it, isn't there?"

"He went because of her laws. If he ends her reign, the curse will be lifted and we don't have to live this way anymore."

"There's something else. You clearly hate the place, and you didn't want Arianna to go there. Tell me why." I set the knife down and sat on the stool next to his, leaned in to fix his eyes to mine. "It's more than you not wanting to give up your life here. She said she was afraid in that journal. Please tell me what's so bad about this place."

He hung his head for a moment. "I told you he has a plan, and I just told you the reason. The details are too complicated and I can only tell you so much."

"He left me with you not only to protect me, but for you to explain things to me, remember? How do you expect me to wait around for him to come back if I don't know what this is all about? All of you have been trying to spare me, trying to keep these secrets from me, only giving me bits and pieces. I'm tired of it."

"It's for your own good."

"I'll decide what's good for me. Look, you said work with what I've got, right? Well... you were right. I'm in your world now, whether I asked for that or not." I placed my hand on his arm. "So let me in."

He sighed heavily and stood up to retrieve the journal from the coffee table, slowly slid it toward me. "There was a war. A bad war. Samira is bound by Gérard, the original conjure father, the one who gave her power, to send immortals to Amaranth to be freed from their curse. But nothing stops her from running the city the way she wants to. Those who go there... pay a price. A lot of persecution goes on. The inhabitants rebelled against her and her servants, and almost everyone died."

"Arianna?"

"No, thank God. But of course, Samira and her army won, and after they won, the survivors were forced to submit to her rule again, and it got worse. Eventually things settled down. All thanks to a leader who stepped in and helped restore the peace there."

"A leader?"

He nodded. "Someone from the inside." He watched while I casually flipped through the withered pages. "Once peace was restored, Samira executed the leader and his wife, then covered it up."

"Okay, so Gavin's angry with her for persecuting the immortals? She's ruled for centuries, it doesn't seem like that is going to change any time soon. What makes him think he can change that? Or that he has to be the one to do it?"

Joel pulled his eyes from mine and pointed to the necklace that hung from my neck. I followed his signal, grabbed the locket between my fingers. "I don't understand."

"Did Gavin give that to you?" he asked, looking at me now.

"Yeah, he told me it was his mom's." I looked down again at the locket, popped it open to examine the delicate inscription inside. _If my heart had wings it would be with you always_. My eyes ran over it, searched for any connection. All I knew from what Gavin told me was that his father was killed and then his mom disappeared. I looked back at Joel, stunned. "No. Please don't tell me his parents had anything to do with this."

"What did he tell you about them?"

"His parents were the leaders? They were killed... in Amaranth?" I sat back, heartbroken, my words strained, my throat tight. "I can't believe this." I pulled my old trusty menthols from my pocket, lit one up. "Samira killed them? So he went there for _revenge_? He's putting his life on the line for something that can't be undone?"

"No, it's more than that. He wants justice, to help the people there. He wants to see everyone set free from her rule for good."

"That's insane. That's impossibly ambitious. It's like, killing _God_."

"No," Joel replied, his tone sharp. "She is _not_ God. She only wants to be."

I shook my head, astonished. Then I remembered. "Wait, he told me his mom left just a few years ago. You're saying this war happened back in the 1800s."

"I wasn't kidding when I said our kind has been trying to resist Samira's rule for a very long time. It isn't only those of us living here on earth, but those living in Amaranth, too. The war happened back in the late 1800s, shortly after Arianna wrote that passage. But Gavin always says it's been five or six years. To him, it feels like it was just yesterday. He's carried the burden with him, to avenge them, for over a hundred years now."

He grabbed a smoke from my pack and lit one up for himself. "Gavin's lived in his grandfather's house in Louisiana for years, he just traveled to Europe now and then to get away. His father _chose_ to go to Amaranth. His mother couldn't take living in the house without him, so she up and left. She went to join him. They helped bring peace to the city before Samira killed them. She got rid of them, and then made the people think it was an accident, that they'd eventually be forgotten. She fooled them all." He shook his head, angry now. "Their deaths are the reason Gavin became one of us."

"Why kill them? Those poor people..." my hand automatically made its way back to my locket, clasped it tightly as I stared off into space.

"She uses people to get what she wants, and then destroys them. It's all rooted in the Hoodoo and Voodoo side of things, the fact that Samira and Gérard are hybrids: part witch, part vampire." He chuckled. "Freaks the supernatural, you might say. The people stored away in Amaranth give them unlimited, permanent energy, keep them in rule. So she'll do whatever it takes for the people to see her in a trusted light. Showing false compassion for the loss of their leaders resonated with them. They respected her more for it. It made them feel she cared about them."

"That's why Gavin changed? To avenge his parents?"

"That's another story for another day." He exhaled, his tone definite.

I snapped the locket shut and gazed forward at a picture on the refrigerator of him, Gabe and Gavin, in what appeared to be some sort of pub.

"When we were human." He nodded to it. "Not too long before he lost his parents, actually."

"Samira already has so much power," I continued, disgusted, trying to understand. "What is she after, then?"

"She's bound under Gérard's spell, has to keep shuffling people in to the city to feed his power. But she's had to wipe out the entire city once already. It'll get harder and harder for her to continue down that road."

He rested his cigarette in the ashtray and stole a piece of my orange, cut it up in little random pieces, a kid playing with food. "Still, she'll continue to take advantage and cause the people to suffer as long as she reigns. She hates that they get to have their curses lifted."

I blinked, my focus still frozen on the old picture in front of me. I took another drag, enamored by the sight of Gavin as a human with his warm brown eyes. "You said he was still human when his parents died in Amaranth. How did he find out about them?"

"He would go visit them."

"In Amaranth?" I turned to him, curious now.

"Yeah, every month when the portal opened."

"I thought humans couldn't enter."

"They can, but they _don't_. Gavin was an exception. It was a part of a deal his parents had with Samira. Their service for visitation rights, and no harm done to Gavin."

I turned back to glare at the picture once more, homesickness washing over me. I needed to get back to Louisiana, and fast. Stretching, I turned to glance at the clock on the wall and gave an exaggerated yawn. "Sorry to cut you short, but I'm beat. Would you mind if I passed on the sightseeing tomorrow after all? I think I'm ready to go home now, and I really should smooth things over with my boss if I want to keep my job."

"Okay, sure," he replied, taken aback by my sudden change of subject. He stopped toying with the orange and looked over at me, confused. "Well, uh, let me just get some things together and we can leave." He headed into his bedroom, left me with the quiet. I glanced at the picture of Gavin one last time and ran my fingers over a page of Arianna's journal before I shut it, ready to bid London farewell.

14

INVERTED

"Sorry about the food I didn't eat back at your place, I can pay you back for that stuff."

"Absolutely not necessary." Joel smiled at me graciously.

"These eggs are great." I washed the last bite down with orange juice, ready to head in to work. Carol generously forgave my absence, thanks to the supposed flu bug, and gave me permission to work a night shift to make up for it. I was shocked she'd kept me around this long, but her "punishment" fit my new lifestyle perfectly.

I smiled at Joel. "Breakfast for dinner is my favorite."

"Glad you like that. I don't get to do this very often." He laughed, scooted back into the kitchen to adjust my radio's volume. An old cassette of Johnny Cash's greatest hits played as he started washing the dishes. I eyed my vintage floral apron that he wore, slung low on his waist, swaying as he moved. I started chuckling again, caused him to swing around and glare at me.

"Don't start that again. It's not my fault you don't have any masculine aprons."

"That's because aprons aren't masculine, genius."

"Don't make me have you for dinner, princess."

"Whatever, Betty Crocker. Knock yourself out." Winking, I slipped out of my chair to toss my plates into the sink next to him, smiled as I admired the apron one last time. His broad shoulders and tattoos enhanced the ensemble, added to my amusement.

"If you can't handle a vampire confident in an apron, then get out of the kitchen." He jabbed me with a wet spatula and I shoved him back, then grabbed my bag from the table. "Let me know if you hear from them?"

"I can't hear him when he's there, remember? I promise I'll let you know as soon as I know something. It's going to be a while—"

"I know, I know. Wishful thinking." Grabbing my coffee, I made my way to the door.

"Have a great day at school, honey," Joel called after me, a goofy smile on his face. _Well, at least the babysitter doubled as entertainment._ Giggling like the child I didn't think I'd ever been, I slammed the door.

By the time I made it to the bookstore, my mind was on overdrive, trying to figure out how Gavin was suppose to tackle his whole plan and make it back to Louisiana. On the way home from London, Joel broke down the specifics and explained them in human terms for me. Still it sounded impossible. And just plain reckless. Apparently, he intended to get everyone to rise up against Samira, break free from Amaranth with them, and _then_ come back to the real world. Quite the hefty feat, and much more than he originally let on. Still, there was a lot I didn't know, and that gave me some peace. I kept looking at my watch, remembered sunset was imminent.

I walked in the door to find good old Carol rushing to hug me, her multicolored floral dress an eyesore. "So good to see you, dear. We're so happy to have you back again." She latched onto me.

"Thanks, it's good to be back." I immediately felt guilty for what I was about to do, but I knew I had to stick to the game plan. I wouldn't have come into work at all, knowing I was about to give up my favorite job for good, but it was an excuse to get away from Joel, and I had to make it look convincing in case he checked on me.

"Well now, I know coming in for a night shift to help out with inventory isn't at all appealing, but we really need the help." She winked and straightened her dress. "Feel free and start right here, and let me know if you have any trouble."

"Actually Carol," I peered around, taking in the last glimpse of my beloved bookstore, "I was wondering if it would be all right if I took my break early tonight."

"I don't see a problem with that. No, not a problem at all," she shook her head as she spoke. Her fire-engine-red curls bounced around as her head moved. "Just get a few of these shelves taken care of, and then you can leave when you'd like."

"Great."

"How is everything with that fellow of yours? Haven't seen him around here lately."

"He's fine."

"No trouble on the romance front, then?"

"Everything's peachy." I waited for her to get the hint.

She stared at me for a second with those curious old-hen eyes, waiting for me to elaborate, no doubt. I waited, glanced around. "Good to know dear, good to know," she finally said, "Well, I best stop dilly-dallying," she adjusted her glasses and left me alone. Without wasting a second more, I hurried off.

After rummaging through a few shelves, I dashed out the door as soon as Carol was out of sight and jumped into my Jeep, making sure Joel was nowhere in sight. I'd told him to meet me at nine when my shift ended to follow me home, so as far as he knew, I wasn't getting off for at least a few more hours. But vampires were stubborn. And sly. For all I knew, he was hanging out around the bookstore to make sure Andrew didn't show up. Or to make sure I didn't do something stupid.

I struggled to find my way to the bayou and watched the sun sink down to the earth, the loyal crescent moon becoming more and more visible as the sky went black. Joel knew the cycle, knew tonight was the last crescent we'd have until next month, so I was really pressing my luck. Still, I figured he'd never assume I'd do something this senseless. My tires jumped as I made my way off road, down a path I vaguely remembered from the night Gavin drove me there. I took advantage of the last few seconds of daylight, hoped that seeing my surroundings in the light would help jog my memory and lead the way.

Getting frustrated, I slowed down, leaned over the steering wheel to look out into the dead clearing in front of me. The sky now a dark void; my headlights only illuminated the ground and the trees directly in front of the car. I grabbed my flashlight and jumped out into the darkness, shined it on the trees in front of me, searched for any sign of the bizarre oak tree. I staggered forward, squinted as I approached a slope in the ground that led to a part of the bayou's shoreline. I spun around and frantically searched the trees again, sure that the clearing looked familiar, but uncertain I'd driven far enough along the bank to reach the right spot.

My back to the water, I turned my head to the right, remembered the location of the tree in relation to the water. Moving the flashlight in front of me, I breathed a sigh when I saw the rebellious branch I was looking for, staring me in the face, daring me. Thrilled that my directional instincts had been right, I glared up at the taunting moon and adrenaline rushed through me. The sounds of the night coalesced with my heartbeat. It was time.

I dashed back to the Jeep and dumped my work shirt and shoes into the backseat, replaced them with an old t-shirt and durable riding boots that would hopefully be useful in my surroundings. I pulled the boots on over my jeans and slammed the car door shut, took a deep breath as I patted my pockets for anything I didn't need. Vampire repellant would be helpful to take with me. A shame it wasn't on the market just yet. I tossed my hair into a loose ponytail and stalked toward the tree, then ruthlessly grabbed hold of the branch to accept the challenge. Wrapping both arms around it, I pushed down forcefully, felt it crack as it gave way. I could already the feel the elements change, as they had the night my friends left me.

Immediately, I began shivering and watched the water roar to life, wondered when I should enter. Creeping toward the bayou's edge, I couldn't help but think of drowning. The anxious, uncomfortable feeling of holding your breath for too long, lungs signaling it was time to get air, and fast. What would happen once I surrendered to the water's pull? Once my feet were in the swirling water—or worse, once my head went under the water—would something terrible happen to me?

I stared down into the magnetic water, amazed at the violet color it emanated, then shut my eyes and stepped forward. The swishing current's powerful tug thrashed around my knees, and I opened my eyes and waded in farther, kept my hands up near my waist.

"Oh, this is too good."

The words were followed by menacing laughter. I swung my head around and peered up toward the magic tree, shrieked when I saw Andrew's loathsome face.

"You just made my night, sweetheart."

Before I had time to think, he lunged from the tree, grabbed my ponytail and dragged me farther into the water. His cursed eyes were present, no sign of humanness in them. I didn't bother fighting his hold on me. There was no hope for me now.

"You really think you can just stroll into the city of the undead and rescue your precious boyfriend?" He gave my head another hard yank as he stood behind me, his other arm clamped around my neck. We stood waist deep now, inches from the center of the swirling vortex.

"Please, don't do this, Andrew, please—" I squirmed away from his fangs, felt his breath on the back of my neck.

"I'd love nothing more than to have you for dinner right now, but you're good for more than just a meal at the moment, so you're going to do me one last favor."

"I can't give you anything you want. I'm nothing to you."

"No, you're going to give me something I _need_."

Trembling, I shut my eyes as he cupped his hand tightly over my mouth.

Jerking me forward, his body moved with mine as he plunged us into the fathomless abyss. Under water, I opened my eyes and to my surprise could see clearly; no muck or fog clouded my vision. Heavenly spirals of lucent magenta whirled around me, peaceful trails of bubbles floated toward the surface as spurts of air escaped my lips. The streams of vivid light brightened and the moon faded off into the distance, the surface of the water transforming into a bright, blinding white canvas as the earth shook beneath us. My feet were dragged toward the muddy, evolving floor, and the force pulled me farther and farther down, my body swept away like a rag doll. Wrapped in my attacker's cocoon, I yielded to his perilous direction.

15

THRESHOLD

After plummeting down a narrow tunnel of dirt, soil, and roots of the earth, we crashed onto a cold black-and-white tile floor, struck it with a loud smack. I laid there drenched, puddles of water around me, unsure how long I'd been unconscious. We were in an underground passage of some sort, the ground above us low and threatening.

My head throbbed, and as I grabbed the back of it, I wondered if I'd broken any bones from the fall.

"Get up." Andrew stood to his feet to jerk me to mine. Sore but able to stand, I quickly obeyed. Pulling me by the arm, he rushed me down the confined hall toward a set of stone steps in front of a jagged medieval-looking door made of wood and bones. I quivered at the gruesome sight, and distracted myself by looking at the cool rock walls and the archaic candelabra lanterns that hung eerily from them, dimly lighting the ancient path.

Andrew latched onto the crescent-shaped iron doorknob and gave it an aggressive tug, stepped back as a cloud of dust and dirt fumed around us. The heavy door creaked open and revealed an ashen sky and a vast perimeter of land that stretched toward a breathtaking imperial cathedral situated high on a hill. Directly in front of us, a dirt path led to the entrance of a gorgeous English garden, and an impressive maze of perfectly tidy trees.

"We won't be needing this," he said, pointed to the path. "Stay close, you wouldn't want to wander off on your own around here. Much too dangerous." He gave me a wink that sickened me.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I _said_ the details aren't important."

"If you're going to kill me, why not just get it over with?"

"Who said anything about killing you? Where's the fun in that?" He turned to pick me up, then tossed me over his shoulder and leaped into the air, flew past the quaint maze entrance and over the vibrant green terrain toward the enormous castle.

I glanced at the lush grounds as they whizzed past us, mesmerized. The rich emerald hues popped against the pallid sky, and the incandescent scenery offered stark contrast to the dull, macabre skyline. It all made me shiver, knowing the fascination would be short lived. I was headed toward something sinister, and I didn't need to look at Andrew as he carried me to be reminded of it. The classically beautiful architecture and landscape were exquisite, but far too beautiful for such a dangerous place.

My instincts kicked back in and I said, "Just tell me where you're taking me!"

"No need to get all worked up, darlin'. You're about to meet royalty, you know." He stopped flying when we reached the castle's moat, dropped me to the ground and looked up at it towering over us.

"Royalty. You're taking me to Samira." I stood, dusted myself off. Assessing the moat, I wrung out my damp shirt.

"You were on your way to see her anyhow."

"Not with you, I wasn't. What are you thinking? She's just going to kill you too, is that what you want?"

"Stop talking." He grabbed my arm again and lurched forward, marched us toward the entryway, then greeted a cluster of tall, human-like creatures: vampires on steroids. Their hooded cloaks concealed most of their features, but their fangs were front and center.

"Where is Marie?" One of the tall, ghastly vamps asked Andrew.

"There is no Marie. I am here to bring the queen what she most desires."

"Who sent you?" The guard stepped forward and let down the hood of his gray cloak, revealing a hard stare. "What did you do with Marie?"

"I don't know who you're talking about. Are you going to let me see her or not?"

The suspicious guard glanced at the other two guards standing next to him, returned his attention to Andrew. "What exactly do you have for Her Highness?"

"Insurance."

My mind didn't have time to wrestle with what Andrew's reply meant. I was too busy shrinking away in fear of the grisly watchmen. They didn't look like the other vampires I'd met. Extremely built with broad shoulders, they looked far more animalistic, with wide snouts and heavy brows.

"Come this way," the creature reluctantly ordered, led us through the castle doors.

Once inside, I gawked at the long corridor in wonder and realized it was a massive conservatory. Under the gloomy light that filtered through the glass ceiling, hundreds of flawless rose bushes sat nestled along the cold stone ground, each one displaying hordes of the most beautiful red roses I'd ever seen.

"Excited yet?" Andrew whispered, watched me marvel at the luxurious garden.

"You know, I believe you owe me some gratitude. Without me, you wouldn't have been able to make it this far. You wouldn't be able to see your _beloved_. You should be happy I followed you from that sorry job of yours to the portal. I did you a great favor."

"I didn't _need_ you for anything. You're only getting in the way."

"Believe me, sweetheart. You wouldn't have made it two steps past that portal door without me. They would've sensed a mortal all alone, would've snatched you up in seconds. I did you a favor, and now you're going to do one for me."

"I don't _owe_ you anything."

"Enough," The burly guard bellowed, and bid us to follow him past two lofty wooden doors into a spacious granite-floored room, its focal point a stately velvet throne chair. The quiet crackle of a fire sounded from behind the empty throne.

"I must say this is an honor." The woman's voice filled the room; a strong echo followed as she emerged from behind us. Her next words were to order the guard to leave. Though no one had spoken her name, I knew this was Samira. The room looked literally fit for a queen, and the way the guard obeyed the woman's voice told me she was in charge.

The guard shut the doors behind him and left us with a creation that only my worst nightmares could fabricate. Her appearance shocked me, just as this new beautiful world had, caused me to wonder how such a gorgeous being could be so fatal. I didn't allow my eyes to deceive me, aware that her kind smile wasn't in any way to be trusted.

"You are the first mortal to grace us with your presence in some time." She moved toward us, acknowledged Andrew only with a tight smile, kept her arctic-blue eyes on mine. "And how brave you are, to choose such company," she lifted her delicate lace train as she made a slithering sway around me, extended a hand with intimidating red claws to fool with my hair. "What can I do for you, my pet?"

"I brought her here, Your Highness, she is—"

"Silence. You will speak when spoken to. We will get to that." She slipped in front of me and took my hand, as though wanting to display her sincerity. "As I was saying, child. Why is it you are here? What is your name?"

I dropped my eyes from hers, intimidated by her piercing gaze, admired the deep red satin corset that cinched her svelte waist. Her ebony hair against her ice-cold milky skin added a chilling harshness to her exterior, which heightened the intimidation. I lifted my chin to speak more confidently.

"I'm Camille. Andrew did bring me here, but I was coming here to speak to you on my own. I'm here to see someone, a friend of mine. He came here just recently."

"Of course. Gavin, presumably."

"Yes. I know he came here to go into exile, and I was wondering if I might be able to speak to him one last time."

"One last time?"

"Well, I understand he was in some trouble with you...for being with me," I gulped, "and I'd like to take his place, to pay whatever punishment you had in mind for him. If it's not too late."

I peeked at Andrew, surprised to see him wide-eyed and afraid. Not knowing if that would be my last sight, I cherished his expression.

Samira stepped away from me, squinted while she considered my request. I was unsure whether to explain myself further, so I remained silent with the hopes of agitating her less. Two hulking gray wolves appeared from behind her throne, and I jumped back, watched them make their way to her side. My heart pounded through my chest, and I tried to stay composed.

"Well I must say, this is a turn of events," she exhaled. I caught a glimpse of a red mojo bag attached to her wrist, and other remnants of her familiarity with Voodoo began to jump out at me: the cobalt blue bottles on the windowsills, the eclectic spirit dolls sprawled across the altar next to her throne.

"This is certainly something to be discussed in private," she continued, tilted her head and peered toward an open doorway. "Victor," she shouted, "come at once." As the servant hustled in, she stepped in front of Andrew to address him. "I am delighted to see that you have brought Camille here to me, although it seems she was perfectly content finding her way to me on her own."

"Yes Your Majesty, but I—"

"You assumed this would ensure a lenient punishment for your rebellious acts and the disgrace you have bestowed upon me and my kingdom." She smiled at Victor as he came to stand beside her.

"Well, y-yes," Andrew stammered. "I know what the girl means to y-you."

"Do you, now?"

"I... thought you'd be pleased."

"Oh, I am certainly pleased. Your debt was soon to be collected, and well... here you are, ready to pay in full."

"Yes," he glanced at me, relieved. "I wanted to pay my dues, and I hope this will suffice. Am I free to go?"

She tilted her head back and laughed, then lowered those cold blue eyes to his. "Camille clearly intended to come here on her own free will. So you see my child, the problem now is not only your debt, but your interference. Your freedom is a liberty which you have chosen to abuse, and now you stand before me offering me something you have no business offering, to secure none other than yourself."

The two wolves hovered closer to her, positioned themselves to block Andrew's movement. "Unfortunately, Camille is not yours to claim as payment. You are not only still in debt, but as I stated, you have also interfered in my affairs, and therefore are subject to just punishment."

Taking his hand in hers, she stepped closer to him and looked down, apathetic.

"Please, Your Highness, please, no! I beg of you!" Andrew shrieked, shook as she held his hand. His expression desperate, he stared into her eyes, and I backed away from them, wrapped my arms around my body. I tried to cover my eyes but couldn't look away. "Your Highness, I can give you more!"

She raised a hand to his face and swiped his cheek, her red nails clawing it like a lion dominating its prey. "I have secrets!" he cried out, feeling his torn flesh. "Secrets about the resistance! I beg of you, please, no!"

Smearing the blood across his face, "Farewell," was all she said before she snapped her neck to the side and sank her fangs into him. One quick bite sent him to the floor; his body instantly shriveled and deteriorated. She prompted Victor to remove his body from the room, then fluffed her long black curls with her fingernails and readjusted her gown before she turned to face me. My knees trembled as she swung around to meet me, my mind's eye still fixed on the granite stairway where Andrew's lifeless body lay. He was here, and then he was gone. His absence should have been a relief, but it only intensified my fear. Now it was just Samira and me. Alone.

"Now then, where were we?" She wiped the blood from her mouth, licked her fingers.

"I don't know, I..."

"Ah, yes. Your request." She beamed, floated back and forth as she spoke. "It seems you have wasted your time and have taken quite a gamble."

"I'm sorry?"

"You made the assumption Gavin would be punished. That you could take his place. You see, he is alive, and I do not intend to punish him. I must allow him to go into exile. However, he is guilty under my law, and will serve me in place of physical punishment. As for you my dear, a mortal in this place has two options. Live or die. You may not leave mortal, you see. You become a liability to our secrecy if you do. To live, you must become one of us. And what an honor it is to join our family."

"I wouldn't be a liability if you let me go.... I would never tell anyone, I swear—"

"I have no proof of that. The only mortals who know about us outside of this place are changed, or killed immediately. The relationship you and Gavin have begun is most forbidden, and such a unique situation must be handled quickly and definitively. Leaving is _not_ a choice for you unless you are changed, do you understand?"

My eyes locked on hers. I fought to remain submissive, but my suspicion burned. "Yes. But... why give me the gift of immortality? I mean, why spare me?"

"Your very presence exudes endless potential. It is infectious," she inhaled strongly, as if taking in my scent. "Such vitality, such perseverance. You would be far more useful to me joining our family than you would be providing me with a single meal. The choice is yours. What will it be?"

Gliding toward me, she took my chin in her hand. "If you truly desire to take Gavin's place, I will spare him his sentence of servitude and admit him to Amaranth where his curse will be lifted, as he has requested. You may serve in his place. Unless, of course, you prefer the other option...."

"No." I met her hazy stare, ready to commit. I knew I was interfering with Gavin's plans, but it would be worth it, if it meant letting him go free, seeing him human again, just as he wanted. What Samira presented to me was more of a trade, more desirable even. If I accepted the offer, I'd still have a chance to be with him again, would be here to witness the destruction of the evil incarnate that stood before me. I needed no more convincing. "Change me."

"It is done. You'll be escorted to his living quarters immediately." With a quick swirling of her lifted skirt, she retired to her throne and gestured to the wolves. As I turned to follow them toward the doorway, she called at me to stop, leered at her long, sharp nails as she spoke.

"One more thing, my pet. I almost forgot. In choosing to take another servant's place, you are marked. You belong to me, which means you will not have the privilege of living in exile." She met my eyes with a smug smile. "Just so we're clear on that."

16

FIGHT OR FLIGHT

The wolves led me up an exhausting spiral stairway to the castle's highest tower. When we reached the top of the staircase, another large guard in a gray hooded cloak met us with an aloof stare.

"Dali. Akim. Release," he instructed the animals. They obeyed, retreated elegantly back down the stairway to return to their queen. He let me walk ahead of him, leisurely strolled a few feet behind me. We passed cell after cell, each wooden door sealed shut with only a single opening to see through and complete with rod iron bars. Living quarters? This was a _prison_.

I didn't know how I would react when I saw him, and I was far more concerned with how he would react when he saw me, knew I'd have to talk fast and convince him to comply with the deal I made with Samira. What he was here to attempt was far too risky, and although I wasn't sure of the fate he held in Amaranth, I knew it might cost him his life. I had to at least try to make him see the reality of the situation more clearly.

The guard came from behind me and snatched my arm, spun me around to face one of the cell doors. Reaching into his cloak, he retrieved a pair of chain handcuffs and grabbed my wrists, forced them in front of me to bind them.

"You have five minutes."

"Only five minutes?"

"Not open for negotiating," he breathed in my face, his fangs hovering near my neck.

He sorted through his keys until he found the correct one and lazily slipped it into the door's keyhole, turned the latch with ease.

"Here's your _prince_." The door swung open and he rolled his eyes, shoved me from behind into the cell. Snatching the door shut and locking it behind me, he left me with my missing piece. The moonlight aided my vision in the dark cell, glimmered through a barred window on the stone wall. My eyes adjusted quickly and I focused on a lump of matter pitifully hunched over in the corner. The anticipation in my heart instantly dropped. Propped up with his head down, there sat Gavin on a scattered bed of straw, weak, with tattered clothing and a ghastly bruise on his face.

I shuffled forward, in disbelief at his condition. "Gavin, wake up. Are you okay?" I kneeled down and shook him, thankful to see his eyes roll open.

"No, no, no." Drowsy, he flinched, horrified to see me. "You _can't_ be here. Camille, tell me I'm hallucinating. You can't..." he reached for me, his face heavy with disappointment when his hand touched my skin, felt it was real.

"I came here for you," I said. "You never should've taken off like that— Are Gabe and Audrey all right? I thought you weren't being punished, but you're starving and locked up." I reached for his face, eyed the dreadful cell walls.

"Stop. What the hell are you doing here?" He pulled himself up and stepped close to me now; his eyes darted from the cell door to the cell window. He immediately grabbed my handcuffs and gave them a sharp yank, let my hands free. The effort exhausted him. "You're going to get both of us killed, what were you thinking?"

"I know, calm down, that's what I'm here to talk to you about. I ran into Andrew on the way here, but he's dead now. And I worked things out with Samira...."

"You _met_ Samira?"

"Yes. I know this is dangerous, but listen—"

"You can't be here," he repeated, scanned our surroundings again. "You shouldn't be so close. I haven't fed—"

"You have to _listen_ to me. We only have five minutes."

"Five minutes until what?"

"Until they take me back to Samira. She's going to change me, I told her I'd take your place if she let you go. You won't have to serve her. She'll lift your curse." I swallowed and placed my hand on his chest, let him know I wasn't afraid.

His body stiffened. "Change you. Camille, no. No, you don't understand. You can't _work things out_ with her, she doesn't do deals. She'll kill you anyway."

"You don't know that. She was certain, she said I'd be of use to her and that I could serve in your place. She didn't seem to have a problem with making a deal. Besides, she said I'd have to change or be killed."

He shook his head, weakly paced back and forth. "I can't believe this." Seeing Gavin crawl out of his skin was an image I wasn't used to. "She doesn't bargain, doesn't negotiate. Everything she does is for herself, do you understand that? She doesn't compromise, she doesn't play fair. She _deceives_. We have to get you out of here. _Now_."

"Gavin, I can't leave you here. This whole plan you had to come here and save the vampire world is insane. This won't bring your parents back, it's too big for you. I came here to catch you in time, to beg you to forget this whole thing and just leave. I might not be able to talk you out of it, I know—I understand what coming here means to you. But if you're going to go through with it, you have to let me be here with you, you have to let me help. If I let her change me, you'll be freed from your curse right away. The more time you spend serving her, the more time she has to become suspicious of your intentions, or she could just decide to kill you. Your life is in danger, you can't waste any time. I can be here and wait for you until you do whatever it is you came here to do. This is what I _want_."

I didn't think it possible, but the torment on his face deepened. "I knew what I was doing," he said. "She agreed to let me serve inside Amaranth, just like I wanted her to. My curse would be lifted after I helped lead her people, and then everything would be in place for my plan to work! She won't hurt me, not yet. But now? Now, you walked right into her trap, you gave her exactly what she wants. She won't change you, she'll keep you until I give her what she wants, and then she'll kill you!"

"How do you know that?" I stepped in front of him and stopped him from pacing.

"I just know."

"You're jumping to conclusions."

"I know," he jerked his thumb to his chest, "because that's what she did to my parents. Bargained with what they loved most: with me. She kept me alive until they did what she wanted, and the minute they did, she tried to get rid of me. I escaped, so she got rid of them instead. She _will_ kill you."

My heart sank. Of course he knew better than I did what she was capable of. If I'd only trusted him in the first place, let him do what he came here to do. But he left me regenerate, and I was indebted to him. My efforts might have been in vain, but my motives convicted my heart.

"Please, let me do this," I said. "Go into exile and let her take me, or get out of here, it's your choice. But I'm here now, and I'm either going back home with you, or I'm going to be here to watch you bring her kingdom down. So whatever you do, do _not_ ask me to cower away and let you walk into a suicide mission."

"I'm not asking. You're leaving. You're powerless here, changed or not, do you get that?"

"I'm _not_ leaving. Not unless you come with me."

He turned from me and looked out the cell window toward the moon, at the eerie shadow that unhurriedly began casting itself across it.

"That shadow wasn't there when I got here," I mumbled, eyed it nervously.

"It's not the earth's moon. It's... like an hourglass. It tells the Amaranthians when the crescent cycle is almost over. The portal will close soon, we have to go." He turned back to me. "You leave me no choice, I'll leave with you, we'll have to escape. There's no way you'll make it out alive on your own. But this isn't over, I have to come back. I'll have to go into hiding, regroup...."

I rushed forward to hug him. "Run with me. You don't have to come back. It doesn't matter what you are, we can start over."

"This was never supposed to happen, Camille." He gently held me in his arms, lowered his voice. "I can't do this anymore. I can't be with you. Not until I'm freed from this. I _need_ to do this. Not just for myself, but for my parents. I owe it to them, please try to understand."

"There _has_ to be another way."

"There isn't. This is my fate and you can't alter it. I'll leave with you to keep you safe, but you can't keep me from this. I need you to understand."

He brushed his fingers through my hair and kissed my forehead, brought me home again. "What possessed you to do this, love?" He spoke calmer now, held me tighter. "I've missed you so much, you have no idea. I'll never forgive Joel for letting you escape."

"It wasn't Joel's fault. I tricked him."

"What has gotten _in_ -to you?"

"I just know what I have to do now."

"And what is that exactly?"

"To stop fighting against the current. There's no going back for me. Unless it's with you."

Taking my face in his hands, he scooped me up and kissed me fiercely, picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist, then trapped me against the chilly stone wall, radiating with intense need. "God, you smell good," he breathed, his mouth moving over my neck and chest, his hand over the curves of my body. His frenzy consumed me and I gave in, rolling my fingers through his hair and around the back of his neck, more than happy to surrender. Keys faintly jingling in the corridor interrupted us.

"Damn it." He tried to pull his mouth from mine but gripped my thighs tighter, his body's heat compelling me to pull him closer. He glanced at the cell door to find the guard's whereabouts.

"Where did _that_ come from?" I exhaled, winded. Allowing him to loosen his grip on me, I slid down the wall to try to stand, weak in the knees. "Not that I'm complaining, but... you just can't _do_ things like that," I panted, fanning myself.

"Couldn't resist. You don't make it easy on me, you know," he adjusted his shirt, examined the bars on the window next to us. He carefully slipped me out of his arms and grabbed the bars with his hands, pulled back and forth to test his strength.

"Gav—"

" _Sshhh_." He placed his finger to his lips, pulled me close again. "We have to be quiet. I'm really weak, but I think it will be just enough."

"What will?" I whispered.

"I need for you to tell me again why you came here, and why you want to be with me. I need you to explain why you want this life with me."

"Gavin, we don't have time for this, we can talk more later—"

"Tell me, Camille. Explain it to me, please. Don't rush, just concentrate." His eyes locked on mine, patiently prompting me.

"Don't rush? You've got to be kidding me," I snapped under my breath, snuck glances toward the cell door, knowing any minute that monstrous guard would come bursting in.

"He's around the corner. Don't worry."

"Okay," I breathed deeply, careful to keep my voice low. "I came here for you, to make sure you were safe, to see you again...." I fidgeted with my hands and searched his eyes like a child doubtful of her answer in a classroom. What was he thinking starting a conversation like this? We needed to break out of here, to run, and fast, but I was a sucker for his scorching eyes, so I complied.

"I realized I am completely in love with you, and that my life will never be the same since we ran into each other in Paris. I've realized there is no going back, and that as convoluted as this whole thing is, bolting from it is _not_ the answer. Because my mind will never let me forget."

"Go on," he closed his eyes as he listened.

"I know now that my heart won't let me tame it, as much as I try to. It's programmed for you, and if you're missing..."

"If I'm missing..."

"It won't work right. The idea of my life with you had to die for me to see how I want to live."

The sadness that manifested around the lines of his face began to soften, and light crept across his features. A smile replaced the anguish and now he stood beaming, triumphant. His arms and chest shook, and he struggled to keep his eyes shut. "And how do you want to live?"

"I don't want to live like Arianna did, or like my mom does: refusing to accept reality, refusing to let myself be whole. I want to move forward. No more walls, no more regret, no more wasted time. I want another chance to be with you."

"And when did you realize this?" He opened his eyes now, stood serene and still.

"When I saw a picture of you human. I saw all of the life in your eyes, that it was enough to keep us both alive, no matter how defective we were together."

Elated, he leaned forward and swept me into his arms. My legs dangled to the side, my hands draped around his neck. Shocked to see his strength return, I began to feel lightheaded. My eyes heavy, I let him carry me toward the window.

"Camille Hart. What on earth am I going to do with you, my brave little introvert." He peered down at me, adoration in his eyes.

"You could kiss me again."

The jangling keys grew louder.

"Hold that thought."

We heard movement near the door, watched the guard's disgruntled face come into view through the small window. As the guard fumbled with the keys to open the cell, Gavin quickly shifted me in his arms and turned his back to the cell wall, aligned himself with the barred window. Facing the cell door to keep the guard in his view, he adjusted his posture and braced himself. "Forgive me, love. Hold tight."

Before I had a second to ask, he flung us backward into the window with all of his might, and crashed through the bars with ease. His head and shoulders hovered over and protected me as we broke through the wall while chunks of stone exploded all around us. We hurled into flight, rocketed forward at lightning speed, gave gravity no chance to pull us downward. Spiraling through the air, we launched away from the castle and sailed over the beautiful sea of green.

The wind blowing my hair in every direction at once, I turned to peek over his shoulder, caught a last glimpse of the guard's enraged face through the broken castle wall where we left him.

"They're coming," Gavin shouted as we made our way closer to the portal door. "Be ready to run when I tell you."

I watched the same gardens and lush landscape fly past us, the castle no longer in sight, and I knew we were getting close. Dizzy, I fought to keep my eyes open. He suddenly dropped to the ground and landed us in a wide-open area of land, in front of a cozy, familiar garden.

"This maze leads you to the door. I took your energy, but I'm already getting weak, I need you to start running. I can keep you in sight and see what's coming from behind us. Go!"

"I... don't remember going through this. How will I know the way?"

"It's for intruders, so they get lost. There'll be more guards ahead, looking for us, and I need to keep what strength I have left. I'll tell you the way, just go!"

I turned and darted through the maze's entrance, hurried around the corners as Gavin shouted directions from behind me. The darkness added to the disorientation, and I fought against the dizziness. "Gavin?" I stumbled and slowed my pace, prayed it wouldn't be much longer.

"Right here love," he swooped in behind me, wrapped his arm around my waist to guide me. "Almost, hang in there."

"Where are they? I thought you said they'd be here—"

"Camille! Right, then left! Hurry!" He flung me forward, turned to face the angry guard we'd escaped from. He appeared from overhead and collided with Gavin in midair. Hearing the impact, my adrenaline kicked in and I knew I had to run faster than I ever had before. I stopped cold when I saw the guard grab the silver knife from his cloak, watched helplessly as Gavin struggled to gain control of the weapon.

He dodged it as the guard stabbed at his chest, skillfully missing the attempted strike. He gave his attacker's arm a hard blow and sent him flying backward into the trees, knocking the knife from his hand. Kneeling down to grab it, he froze.

"Camille! Wait." His face lit up and he looked off into the distance, concentrated on something I couldn't see.

"When you make the left, run to the center of the fountain and don't move. Stay right there, do you understand? Go! There are more coming!"

"What about you?" I screamed, ready to flee.

"I'll be fine, now leave!"

Though every instinct told me to stay, to help him, I had to trust him, I had to!

I bolted and banked a hard right, heard another dreadful crash from his direction. Peeling left toward the picturesque fountain, I yearned for the day vampires were only a figment of the imagination. What would we do when—or if—we escaped? The thought of life after an escape made me tremble, but I was certain the fate Samira had planned for us, if we stayed, was far worse.

When I reached the edge of the fountain, I spun around, looked for any signs of enemies. I could still hear Gavin scuffling with the guards in the near distance, and wondered how long I was supposed to wait for him. If Samira caught us now, the deal would be off. And I didn't want to be around to suffer the repercussions.

"Well I knew you could be feisty, but I never saw _this_ one coming."

I looked around, and like a gallant soldier riding in on a white horse, there was Joel sailing toward me, ready to rescue me from yet another mess I managed to conjure up.

17

NOBLE

"Joel?" I gasped, watched him fly over me and land on the edge of the fountain. He hopped down onto the grass and grabbed my arm, annoyed.

"Nice job, hon. What are ya tryin' to do, get us all killed? Since when did _you_ have a death wish?"

"What? I don't, I—"

"Forget it, let's go."

"What about Gavin? And Gabe and Audrey—"

"You should've thought about that before you waltzed on over here." Angry now, he stormed around the fountain toward another direction in the maze, dragging me behind him. "We're going to run from here. I don't want to risk anyone seeing us in flight. Come on."

After swerving through a few more twists and turns, I immediately recognized the old, rounded wooden door through which I'd entered. There it sat, nestled at an angle upon a small green hill, facing the same dirt path that led to the maze. The maze Andrew had said we wouldn't be needing.

"Oh, thank God," I breathed, leaned on my knees to catch my breath.

"No time to rest, it's not over yet, come on." Joel yanked me by the arm again, forcing me upright. Only a few feet away now, we darted for the door and raced inside it, past the earthen hallway and over the checkered tile, until we stood directly underneath the hole that had dropped me into this godforsaken place.

"You ready?"

I gasped, "I'm not going back without Gavin—"

A loud rumble sounded from the end of the hallway and the door swung open, Gavin swooping out of it and toward us.

"Speak of the devil," Joel mumbled.

Guards poured through after him, one after the other surrounding us, cornering us, their menacing stares striking from every direction. Gavin latched onto me and shoved me behind him, exchanged glances with Joel.

"Get her out of here," Joel ordered, stepping in front of Gavin, guarding us.

"Not like this."

"Damn it, Gavin. I mean it. Now."

"We're not leaving you," I said, looked to Gavin for assurance.

He didn't offer any. "Close your eyes," he said, picked me up, ready to launch us upward. As he crouched down, I reached out and grabbed the back of Joel's shirt. "Joel, please, no!"

"Take care of each other, you hear me?" he glanced back at me, positioned himself to fight as the guards, daggers in hand, smothered him. Gavin's feet left the ground and I screamed, watched Joel's compassionate, wise face drift into the swarms of vampires covering him like a pack of lions closing in on an animal's carcass.

Soaring upward through the darkened hole, we crashed into a wall of water, the impact stinging my skin. I held my breath and opened my eyes as the water engulfed us, the same invisible force stringing us along farther and farther upward, to the surface. The water became clearer when we neared the bayou's surface, and I searched for Gavin's eyes, kept myself parallel with him as we ascended.

The angelic purple light danced across my skin as we sailed through it, our heads finally breaking the surface. I choked when I took in my first breath of air, clawed to pull myself out of the water, feeling like I was in quicksand. Gavin made his way out and reached for me, carried me to my trusty old Jeep that sat where I had left it. My sobs began as soon as I had enough breath to cry.

"It's okay, love," he panted. "Just breathe."

"Joel's dead because of me! Why did you leave him there?" I spat, coughed uncontrollably. He propped me up in the passenger seat and tossed a sweater over me, slammed the car door.

"Rest now. It's not your fault. None of this is. The portal's about to close so we'll be safe soon, but we still have to move fast, just in case." He slid into the driver's seat and tried starting the car, only to hear a rebellious stalling groan from the engine. He tried again, turned the key desperately.

"Battery's dead. Think I left the lights on," I explained, quivering.

"I need you to keep up with me. We have to make it to the highway, all right?"

"Can't you just fly us—?"

"No, I'm so sorry. I'm too weak." He hung his head as he pulled the key from the ignition. "We'll be all right as soon as we get to the highway, I promise."

He pulled me from my seat, waited to make sure I could stand, then took my hand to lead me into the woods. The sun began to rise, warm orange light slowly filtering in through the trees from the horizon, the sounds of dawn surrounding us. We trudged on through and eventually made it to the highway, and my heart lightened at the sound of cars passing by.

"We're safe for now, the portal's closed," Gavin said, his relief evident. "Last night was the last crescent moon for a while. It'll give us some time to figure things out." He let go of my hand and stepped closer to the highway, shot me a weary look. "I need you to trust me right now." His chestnut eyes searched mine, pleading. Seeing him in the morning light, I began to worry. His face was gaunt and haggard, looked like he needed ten years of sleep.

"What do you mean?"

"Just please stay calm and trust me. I need to get us away from here."

"I thought you just said we're safe now."

"We are. We're safe from... them. But we still need distance."

He stepped out into the road and flagged down a pickup truck, waved his hands to get the driver's attention.

"Get out of the way man, what do ya think you're doin'?" The husky voice came from the cab as the driver rolled his window down. He swerved around Gavin and plowed into the shoulder of the road, stopped. Glaring at us, he parked and got out, eyed me. "What'd ya do to this poor girl here, son?" He stalked toward Gavin, keeping his eyes on his truck.

"Nothing, sir. But we're in trouble and we really need a ride. Please."

"Did ya hurt this girl, son? Look at her, she's all banged up! I'll call the police if I have to, miss." He nodded toward me and looked Gavin up and down. "Well now, you're not looking too hot yourself, son."

"Look, sir. We're really sick and we need a ride. Can you please give us a lift to the hospital down the road?"

"Please, sir. He didn't hurt me. I swear," I chimed in, walked closer to stand with them while Gavin waited for the man's answer, urgency in his eyes and looking worse by the minute.

I stepped in front of Gavin now, pleading with the man. "Someone stole our car and we got stuck out here in the rain, with no phone to call the cops. Please drop us off down the road. We mean you no harm."

"Fine, miss. If you say so. Best you sit in the middle though." He turned and gestured toward the truck. "I'll be keepin' my eyes on your friend, here."

"Thank you so much."

Gavin opened the passenger door and I climbed in, relieved to be sitting down again.

"Why are you sick, son? What's happened to ya? You look like you got in a bad fight or somethin'." The man made his way to the driver's door. Gavin followed.

"It's just been a rough night, that's all," Gavin said.

"Right." The man pulled the door open and leaned forward to get in the cab, but Gavin stopped him, then snatched the keys from his hand.

"Hey. Give them back you no good—"

"Gavin," I said, "what are you doing?"

"Stay put, Camille." Then, to the man, "Sorry sir. Run. Get far away from here."

"What do ya mean, _run_? Don't you dare take my truck, son!" The man attempted to wrestle with Gavin as he shouted.

"I wouldn't do that," Gavin snapped as the man grabbed his shoulders, showed his fangs. He jumped in front of the man and hopped into the cab, locked the doors instantly. The man stumbled backward, fear in his eyes, while Gavin started the engine and sped off.

"I can't _believe_ you!"

"I saved his life, Camille."

"You _what_? You just scared the hell out of him and stole his car."

"He's safe this way."

"Safe? No, I'm sorry. I don't think leaving some poor man on the side of the road after you stole his car is keeping him _safe_."

"I couldn't ride in the truck with him. It would've ended badly."

"He could've just dropped us off and we'd be on our way. _Without_ being wanted for grand theft auto."

"I would've killed him, Camille." He hit the steering wheel. "I spared him, do you get that? I'm starving and weak. We wouldn't have made it more than two minutes down the road." He glanced in the rearview, squinted from the sunlight. "You haven't seen me like this, you haven't seen me this bad. _I_ haven't seen me this bad since... in a very long time. I'm sorry, but I need to feed and that guy would be dead right now if I let him drive us."

I fought to understand, finally did. "That's why you look so sick."

"I only had enough strength to get us out of there because I used as much of your energy as I could, as quickly as possible."

"Well, you pried all that undying-devotion talk out of me up in the tower and plowed through a stone wall." I placed my hand over his, cracked my first smile in a while. "How about taking more of my energy right now? I'm sure it'd be enough to help you drive to the hospital."

"You're still a little dizzy, I can tell," he shook his head. "It's an unfortunate consequence of being drained so fast like that." He returned a weak smile. "I won't ever do that again. You have my word. Besides, energy won't make me better right now. I need blood."

"Well, for the record—whenever we're in trouble like this, permission granted." I squeezed his hand as we pulled off onto the next exit, rolled to a red light. "How is it that you're able to be around me? I mean, if you could've killed that man back there."

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I don't even want to talk about it." He laughed nervously, rolled down the window to let in fresh air.

"I'm sorry I ruined your plan. You knew what you were doing. And Joel. I'll never forgive myself for Joel." I glared at the light, waited for it to turn green.

"I told you, don't you dare blame yourself for this. You're the _last_ one that should _ever_ apologize for this, do you understand? You never would've been in this situation if I hadn't come into your life in the first place. It was incredibly stupid and careless of me."

Someone started to honk as we sat there at the green light. Gavin ignored it and turned to me. Cars whizzed around us, middle fingers and curse words flying.

"Don't do this, love. What you just did was _brave_. Extremely _reckless_ , but brave." Exhausted, he smiled faintly and wiped my tears with his fingertips. "And Joel wanted to help you. I tried talking him out of it the minute I realized he was in Amaranth. I tried telling him to leave, but he wouldn't listen."

More tears came, blinded me. "Hours ago he was cooking, dancing in my kitchen to 'Folsom Prison Blues.' I would've been in this situation whether you came into my life or not."

"How in the world do you figure _that_?"

"I would've found my way into yours."

"After all of this, you still want me," he whispered, kept his eyes on the steering wheel as he switched gears into park. "Come here." He pulled me onto his lap with quaking arms.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Don't worry. Too many witnesses." He carefully inched his mouth closer to mine. As drained as I felt, kissing him was euphoric. I started to wonder if everything we just escaped was a bad dream. More horns honking reminded me it was real.

"I'll say this, and we'll never mention it again," he said. "It's not your fault. So just _stop_."

He pulled away from me and sighed, let me crawl back into the passenger's seat. As the pickup rolled into motion again, I felt guilty for being so happy to be with Gavin again, while our friends were still in Amaranth, still in danger.

"But what about Gabe and Audrey?" I mumbled, heartbroken at the thought of my best friends. "What happens to them now that we ditched them?"

"They're safe for now."

"How safe? How do you know?"

"They're inside the exile gates, and they know they have to be careful."

"But what about what happened to your parents? They don't have the strength to protect themselves now that they're mortal. Samira can hurt them regardless."

"My parents trusted Samira, they let their guard down. Gabe and Audrey know they're in danger, and they'll do what they can to protect themselves. Gabe's smart, he can handle himself. Besides, Samira knows I'll be back."

"If she hurts Audrey, I'll just lose it—"

"She won't. She'll want to use her and Gabe for leverage. Keeping them alive will be more valuable to her. I promise you." He squeezed my hand. "We're going to make this right. I _promise_ you. But right now we have to get off the road," he hit the accelerator as he glanced at the clock, "before we get into any more trouble."

"Are we really going to the hospital?"

"Not quite. To another friend's house. So I can get my strength back and pick up some things. We're almost there."

What had happened since I parked my Jeep at the bayou's shore barely seemed real now, but the exhaustion it had brought did. My eyes growing heavy, I yawned and rested my head on the seat. I barely felt the truck rolling to another stoplight, but I opened my eyes long enough to glance out the window. A cherub of a woman stood near a bus stop bench. She stared back with curious eyes.

"She reminds me of someone," I muttered, gave her a good gander before I let my eyelids fall shut.

"Who does?"

"Never mind," I murmured back, willingly giving in to a heavy, dreamless sleep.

18

VAGABOND

"Good to see you, Gav. You look like hell, ya know."

"You too, man. _Thanks_."

"And who's this?"

"This is Camille. Camille, this is Josh. We go way back."

"I've heard that one before." I grinned, leaned forward to shake Josh's hand. He led us into the cabin.

"I'll give you guys a few minutes to get cleaned up," he said, handing Gavin a glass of red slush. "Seriously, man. Drink up." He made sure Gavin gulfed the fresh sustenance down before retreating to the kitchen.

"Much better," Gavin said, then led me to a bedroom and shut the door. "I'm glad you got some sleep. You needed it."

"Yeah, all twenty minutes of it."

"You can sleep more soon, once we're on the plane."

"We're getting on a plane?"

"I have a plan."

"Oh, no." I stretched out on the rustic, squeaky bed.

"We're going to Paris, where we first met."

I lifted up the comforter and wrapped myself in it, hoping I had some time to relax before we jumped on an airplane. "And what exactly are we going to do there? Shouldn't we be hiding out for a while?"

"We're going to. But we're going to hide out around _people_. Lots and lots of people." He tossed some clothes from the dresser drawers into a suitcase. "We're going to see my sister, she can help us. We can crash there for a while and figure out our next move."

"Your sister? I didn't know you had a sister."

His movements slowed, but only for an instant. "Yeah, she was the one I was visiting the day I met you in Paris. She knows about the plan. You'll see."

"Why can't we just go back to my place? You said the portal was closed for a while."

"It is. But we're not sure who, if anyone, came out after us. We still have to be careful until the next cycle."

"Okay, whatever you say. I guess I'm in no huge rush to get back anyway. It's not like I have a _job_ waiting for me anymore, or fall classes I have to go to...." I thought of Carol, how worried she must've been when I never returned from my break. She probably called the cops, reported me as a missing person. Though there were more troubling things to think about right now.

"This has gotten _so_ out of hand." He sat next to me, dropped his head in his hands.

I sat up and scooted next to him, wrapped my arms around his neck from behind. "It's not the end of the world. I'll deal with it _after_ I stop worrying about an evil vampire queen hunting us down. Besides, right now I'd much rather focus on celebrating."

"This is _hardly_ a celebration."

"Well, excuse me for being happy to be with you again."

He swung me around to pull me close, wrung my still-wet hair with his hands. "You know I'm thrilled to be with you again, even if I look miserable and decrepit at the moment." Pushing the hair away from my eyes, he leaned over and kissed my neck, then peered down at my clothes. "Here." He stood up, and a moment later handed me a dry shirt and some sweatpants from the suitcase, then took clothes for himself.

"I just thought for sure you'd move on with your life," he said. "Maybe wait for me, if I got lucky. I never thought it would come to this."

"Neither one of us did." I started changing, held back a smile as I watched him struggle to look away. "I had a say in this too, remember?"

"I should've stayed away. Period."

"You're so stubborn."

"And you're not?" He flashed a smile, stopped fighting the urge to look and reached out, pulled me closer to kiss me. My pulse thrummed in my chest. "You need a shower. You smell like swamp." Smirking, he looked down at my arms, all splotchy from the mud and dirt.

"And you don't? You smell like a sewer," I nudged him, chuckling. He held up one of my arms and started kissing it, his laugh and warm breath tickling my skin. Making his way up to my collarbone, his mouth's trail made me weak in the knees again. "Gavin..."

"Yes, Camille?" he muttered, shuffled me backward toward the side of the bed, that irresistible, sly smile still on his face, notorious for making me lose control. "Is there a problem?"

Giving in, I dropped the extra clothes on the floor, kissed him fervently, my face flushed. "Josh is in the next room, and we haven't talked about this," I whispered, sneaking words in between breaths. "So yeah, there's a prob—"

"Don't worry about him," he laid me down as we hit the edge, where he hovered over me. I reached up, slipped his shirt off before I pulled him down to my level. He scooted my arms above my head and held them in place, went to work on my neck. His lips cool and breath hot, I entered my favorite paradise, the one most mortals knew nothing of. Sliding my hands down to his belt buckle, his hands met mine, but stopped them. "I'm sorry," he said, out of breath. "Not yet."

He slipped off of me and grabbed the dry shirt, put it on while I lay there, speechless.

"Right." I shook my head, slowly sat up. "Our friends are in danger and a lot of pissed-off vampires are after us. I get it." _Shot down._ "I'm sorry—"

"No, _I'm_ sorry. There's more to it," he picked the clothes up from the floor, "I shouldn't have started that. You just looked so amazing, and I'm so happy to have you back...." He ran his hands through his hair, knelt next to me. "You look good enough to eat," he whispered, kissed my neck once more before he stood. "Any chance we can talk more about it later?"

"Sure... I guess."

"Are we good?"

"Of course." I sent him a smile of assurance, although I knew I wouldn't be satisfied until I knew what had stopped him. "I'm holding you to that talk, though."

"Okay, you got it. Guess I'll head to the kitchen and catch up with Josh before we get going." He smiled, stuffed his hands in his pockets and darted for the door.

Laughing to myself as he shut the door behind him, I looked around at the dresser and nightstands, searched for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, but had no luck. Thinking I might ask Josh, I cracked the bedroom door to peek out into the kitchen. Gavin and Josh were at the table, sharing drinks and laughs, apparently catching up. The conversation quickly turned solemn as they began discussing Joel's death, and then I couldn't listen anymore.

I shut the door and continued my search. Finally noticing a half-empty pack on the desk near the closet, I scooted out the room's sliding door to light up on the porch and shake off the awkward rejection. Once back inside, I noticed my image in the dresser's vanity mirror. I began plucking leaves and muck from my damp hair. I looked like a cadaver who'd been tossed in a swamp, left lying there for a few weeks. Longing for a hot shower, I leaned over to rub some hardened mud from the corner of my eye. A gray blur appeared behind me, sent chills down my arms before I even saw the fangs.

"You'll be dead before you can scream, so don't bother."

"What do you want?" I stood still, stared at the woman behind me in the mirror.

"Quiet. Now do as I tell you and I won't have to hurt you."

My only chance was to delay her until I could figure out a way to call for Gavin and Josh without getting all of us killed or hurt. As loud as I thought I could risk, I said, "Who are you? You look familiar."

"I _said_ be quiet." She spoke as she grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back. Opening a backpack, she pulled out a roll of duct tape and began wrapping it around my head.

She was going to tape my mouth shut. In a second, maybe two, I wouldn't be able to call for help.

In my panic, I didn't think of yelling out for Gavin, but decided to plead with her. "Please, don't do this—" I whimpered, begged her with my eyes when she stood in front of me, placing the tape on my mouth. She was shorter than me and quite round. Almost harmless looking, like a kind, middle-aged kindergarten teacher.

If a kindergarten teacher had cold, hard eyes.

When she finished with the tape, she noticed and grabbed the locket around my neck and peered at it, then glared up at me.

"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself in to, do you?" Leaning in, she put her face to my ear and whispered. "She'll be even more furious now. You just made this harder on everyone, including your precious friends. And sleeping with one of us? That's suicide. Stupid girl."

Shaking too hard to resist, I complied when she shoved me forward, hoisted me out the sliding door toward the woods.

Flying through the trees, she landed us in a remote area not far from the house, near a parked SUV. She opened the back door and slid me onto the backseat, shoving my head down and out of sight and growling, "Stay that way." I looked around for a way out, plotted a way to untie my hands and reach for the door handle. Still, I knew any move I made wouldn't be fast enough. I had to rely on Gavin, hope he'd notice my disappearance and be able to pick up my scent in time.

The woman began rambling as she started the SUV's engine and sped away. "I hate her, you know. Curse the day I vowed to serve her. Sure, I'm a monster, but I don't want to do her dirty work. I don't enjoy chasing down mortals like you, you know. I can tell you're a good one. You don't mean any harm," she jerked the wheel, flustered, "but you had to go and get nosey now, and look what I have to do. Stupid girl. Tsk, I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Don't you _dare_ tell her what I just told you."

She looked at me frantically through the rearview mirror. I made eye contact but broke it off, trying to remain calm. Whoever this woman was, she was taking me to Samira like a lamb to be slaughtered, and there was nothing I could do about it.

We drove for miles until nothing looked familiar anymore, and we finally reached a tiny motel somewhere outside of New Orleans. "Stay put," she instructed, hurried inside the office to get the key. I laid still, peered up and out the side window, searched for passersby. There were none. I rubbed my face on my shoulder to wipe the tears and hair out of my eyes, then tried to lift my head higher, to get someone's attention. Kicking at the door with my feet, I tried working the toe of my shoe underneath the groove of the door handle to maneuver it.

Rocking gently back and forth, I played with the handle, jumped when I saw a man's shadow at the back window, looking in at me through the tinted glass. I could barely see his face, but it seemed like he could see me. He tried opening the door, stopped trying and pounded his fist through the window, and unlocked it from the inside. Glass shattered all around me and warm sunlight flooded in, momentarily blinding me. My eyes bulged when I saw Josh leaning in to rip the tape from my mouth.

"You just don't get a break, do you? Are you all right?"

"I am now. Hurry, she's coming!"

A shrill scream rang from the direction of the motel office as he helped me out of the car, and I saw the woman run away from the frightened desk clerk and toward us. The coldness I'd seen in her eyes now had dark vengeance added.

Gavin appeared from the corner of the motel, rushed to our side to meet her head on.

"Don't do this, Marie," he warned as she approached us. She crept forward, testing her boundaries. "There are two of us and one of you, and we're in a public place," he said. "You're not taking Camille, do you understand?"

"No, _you_ don't understand. I'll do what I have to. You know this is the only way she'll leave my son be. Now get out of my way and give me the girl."

"That's all that I'm trying to do too, Marie. Please, think of what Arianna means to Joel. That's what Camille means to me, and I don't want to hurt you but I will if I have to."

How did Gavin know this woman's name? And why was he bringing up Joel and Arianna? It must be a small world in the vampire realm, I decided. Everybody knew everybody, apparently. Had the circumstances not been so bizarre and dangerous, it would have been kind of cute.

"I'm sorry Gavin, but I have to think of my son," she said. "His safety and happiness with Arianna means too much to me. I'll tell you one last time. Give me the girl."

Seeing that Marie wasn't going to budge, Josh nodded at Gavin and lunged toward her while Gavin lassoed and rushed me into the SUV. She hissed at Josh as he came toward her, challenged him for a moment before forfeiting. As Gavin reversed to drive off, she fled to the woods nearby, Josh trailing after her.

"Are you hurt?" Gavin hit the gas.

"No, just a little shaky. What was that all about? How do you know her?"

"She's Joel's mother. She doesn't know...."

"Oh my God." I shook my head in disbelief as we drove off, the guilt creeping up again.

"She's one of Samira's oldest servants," he said, "she's just trying to look out for Joel. She still thinks he's with Arianna."

"I thought Arianna was in Amaranth."

"She was."

"How can someone _leave_ Amaranth? I thought once you're in, you're in."

"It's a long story. What matters right now is she's out there, and she'll keep coming back. We _really_ need to get to Paris." He checked the side and rearview mirrors. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you. Josh and I stepped out for a cigarette, and I didn't sense anyone had been in the house until it was too late. He's going to chase her down, it's okay now."

Sitting there quietly, I wondered if this was what our life was going to be like. I knew Gavin and I would have to run, but did I want to be a restless nomad, wandering from place to place, never having a place to call home? That was why I moved to Louisiana in the first place, after all. To settle down and start over.

As if he read my mind, Gavin pulled over and parked on the side of the road, and turned to look at me. One look was all I needed to be reminded of the uselessness of contemplating what-if scenarios. Everything I wanted was right here in this car.

"I need to know if this is what you really want Camille, because this is going to be our life for a while."

"I know it is."

"It might never be easy again—carefree and simple."

I thought of my mother and father, of two abusive relationships, of my entire life before I met Gavin. "It never was."

"I'll do everything in my power to make this right, but it's going to take time. So I need to know."

"You're asking me if I'm sure I want to run with you."

"Yes."

I took a breath, let it out slowly. "Well, I _am_ getting a tad tired of being kidnapped and chased by monsters. It's really starting to piss me off."

It wasn't a joke, and he knew it too. He looked away from me, stared at the homes nearby. I stared, too. Pondered their dependable simplicity.

"But I'll run with you. Under one condition."

"Name it."

"Don't ever leave me again. _Ever_."

"Not unless you want me to."

"And all of the circumstances aside, let's start over. Let's be together the way we would've before all this happened. I love you regardless of what you are, so promise me—even if you stay this way, you'll never leave me."

He smirked, turned the ignition off. "Technically, that's more than _one_ condition."

"Promise."

Earnest again, he tossed the loose duct tape in the back seat. "Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"

Meeting his fiery gaze, I ran my fingers through his hair, kissed him gently before I attempted to set us both free. "It will always be enough."

With the many uncertainties, of one thing I was sure. I could not escape love, the very thing that had kept me mobile since the day I realized I was capable of giving and receiving it.

EPILOGUE

The brisk fall day welcomed us as we landed at Charles De Gaulle. We caught a cab to Gavin's sister's apartment, and when we arrived, he led me to her door, held my hand with an affectionate and eager smile, a single suitcase in the other hand.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." He was nervous, I was too; she was the first real relative of his, maybe the only relative, I would meet.

The lock turned on the other side of the door and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. When the door gently opened, it revealed a tall, romantic-looking girl with dark eyes and a Victorian face. Her long, curly blonde hair fell past her shoulders, her pale skin adding to the allure of her dark eyes. She looked nothing like Gavin, aside from her skin tone and the same faint glimmer in her irises when she smiled. But I recognized her.

"Gavin," she beamed, wrapped him up like a teddy bear, quickly kissed him on the cheek. "Thank God, I'm so glad to see you!"

"Me too, sis. Thanks for having us,"

"Of course, you know you're welcome anytime. And this must be Camille," she squealed, leaned forward to hug me.

"Hi, Arianna. Gavin's told me so much about you."

"I've heard a lot about you, too. Come on in."

"You have?" I found it hard to believe, considering Gavin just sprung his sister's identity on me just days ago. Knowing I felt responsible for losing Joel in Amaranth, he said he couldn't bring himself to tell me right away. I appreciated the concern, but that didn't make meeting her any easier. Especially since he hadn't told her about Joel's death yet.

I followed Gavin inside and into the living room.

"Shame on you for not telling Camille about me sooner," she said when she returned from putting our suitcase in the side bedroom. "I've been wanting to meet her, you know." She joined us on the couch.

"We only met a few months ago," he replied. "I haven't exactly had time to bring her to Paris to meet you."

"Yeah, but the way he talks about you, it's as if you've been together for years and he's just hidden you away from me all this time." She looked over at me, glowing. "What's that all about, anyway?" She turned back to him and fixed curious eyes on him. "Why _haven't_ you told her about me until just now?"

"Let's just say the past few months have been hectic, that's all. We have a lot to catch up on."

"It seems we do," she replied curtly, suddenly eyeing the locket around my neck. "Well Camille, it's nice to officially meet you." She extended her hand and gave me a wary smile.

"You too, thanks."

"Camille, you must be starving after that long flight, I have roast chicken in the oven. Are you tired? You're welcome to lie down, just make yourself at home, whatever you need." She stood and headed toward a door that appeared to lead to the kitchen.

"Thanks sis," he said. "Camille slept most of the flight, so I'm sure she's hungry."

"I hope I'm not putting you out, you didn't have to cook for me," I chimed in, uncomfortable I needed human food.

"Don't be silly. I prepared when I knew you were coming. "

"Oh, okay then. Cool, thanks."

"Oh brother _dear_ , why don't you go see my newest additions to the record collection while Camille and I hang out in the kitchen?" She batted her eyelashes.

"I haven't seen you in months and you're already trying to get rid of me?" He winked at me then headed off toward the piano, leaving us alone.

She whisked me off to the kitchen. "So, this situation with Samira is quite a mess, wouldn't you say?" She began sorting through the fridge.

"I'm not sure if that accurately describes it." I rolled my eyes and thumbed through her recipes on the counter, working hard to conceal the sadness I felt over her lover's death. She seemed so happy, so at peace. Though she was no longer with him, she appeared content, probably just knowing he was out _there_ somewhere, still existing in the world. At least that's how I'd feel about Gavin if we weren't together. Knowing he was alive, and that I had loved and lost him, would be better than not having him at all.

"I'm not going to lie. You guys have certainly gotten yourselves into some trouble. Word is spreading fast in our circles, and it's not going to be a pretty fight."

I dropped the recipe card I held on the counter. "There's going to be a big fight?"

"Well, something has to be done. Gavin certainly can't go back by himself and face her, that's useless." She started slicing fresh watermelon and crisp stalks of celery.

I thought a moment, nodded and picked up the recipe card. "I guess I was hoping he wouldn't have to go back at all. But I know how important this is to him. Plus, our friends are there. They're waiting for our help."

"Yeah, poor Gabe. At least Gavin won't be going back alone. The resistance has been building, and he'll have plenty of help to back him up. But it's going to take some planning, that's for sure."

"I'll do whatever I can to help. I mean, if it weren't for me barging in and ruining his plan in the first place, he wouldn't be in this situation. None of you would."

She stopped cutting for a moment to look at me. "If you didn't go get him, he might never have come back, Camille. I'm thankful you got my brother out of there. I'm not opposed to his plans, don't get me wrong. But I wish he would've gone about it differently... waited longer... brought more help with him. At least this time he'll be able to do it right. When he first mentioned his crazy plan, I told him to wait for me, to let me help him. I know Samira better than he does, but you know Gavin, he's so stubborn."

I slid the card back in, tossed the recipe tin shut and nodded, thankful she wasn't upset with me. She already had reason enough to hate me. "I hope you're right. I just made it much harder now. There's always the chance..."

"Things will be complicated for a while," she continued, chopping lettuce, "and Gavin has a tough road ahead of him by going through with this. Yes, there's no guarantee it will work. It might turn into the riskiest war our kind has seen in centuries, even more so than the last. But there is no easy way to deal with Samira. And there's _never_ an easy way around a relationship like yours. Been there, _done_ that."

I leaned over the counter as she spoke, examined the clusters of pictures aligned over the sink and stove's backsplashes.

My stomach sank when I looked closer at the man in one picture. Joel's familiar, wise face stared back at me, Arianna standing next to him, immense love and adoration in her eyes. "Where was this one taken?"

"Oh, that one." She reached over to touch the picture. "That was in London, many years ago. Joel, the love of my life. Gavin's told you about him, no doubt."

"He has, yeah..." I choked and couldn't finish; dread crept through me like my old invasive enemies. What would she do when she found out he was gone? That he died to save me? I turned my head, unable to look at the picture any longer.

"Those were good times," she shook her head as if bumping Joel's memory from her, moved away from the picture and back to the cutting board, "but Samira never wanted us together in the first place. She made us cut off our engagement long ago."

"You were engaged?" My face dropped at her words. It was bad enough I took her lover from her. Now I was a fiancé killer.

"Yeah," she dumped the diced vegetables in a bowl, stared at them for a moment, let out a sigh. "She never approved of our relationship. By the time my father forced me to leave Amaranth and placed me with Gavin and his family, I never saw Joel again."

The oven's timer went off, and I turned to help her pull out the chicken. "What do you mean, _placed with Gavin's family_?" I set the perfect golden chicken on top of an oven mitt, inhaled the succulent scent.

"My father wasn't a very dependable man. He wanted me to have a good family, wanted me to be as far from Samira as possible. So he made an arrangement with a good friend of his. That friend was Gavin's father. And Gavin's family became my own. We're not brother and sister by blood, didn't he tell you?"

"No, I had no idea..." The fact that she looked nothing like Gavin suddenly made sense, and my interest burned to know more. "You'd never know it. I mean, you and Gavin seem so close."

"Oh we are." She smiled, started carving the chicken, placed the meat on an antique platter. "I consider him my brother in every way that counts, although Samira's still my mother by blood, unfortunately. She's a wretched woman. But I'm sure you know that by now."

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PRESERVATION

Fear is sabotage's sweetest weapon.

Kate has no time for meaningless romantic charades, and definitely no time for hot college professors who are full of themselves and smitten with her. Constantly battling eviction notices, tuition she can't afford, and a sick, dependent mother, the last thing she needs is to be distracted with someone else's complicated baggage.

When she stumbles into Ryan Campbell's creative writing class, he is only "Mr. Campbell" to her, until Ryan finds himself captivated by her writing and she is forced to face their mutual attraction. His cocky know-it-all syndrome is enough to send her running in the other direction, and his posse of female admirers and playboy reputation are enough to squander any odds in her favor.

But underneath Ryan's abrasive facade is something to behold, and she can't stay away for long. Ryan and Kate must decide who they're willing to become and fight against their former selves if they want to make things work. That's if academia, vicious vixens, old skeletons, and their own mastery at self-destruction don't pummel their efforts first.

978-0-9840208-4-3 ~ www.RachaelWade.com

