Dinnertime came and went without her noticing, until a knock on the door revealed a portly woman in a cook’s apron carrying a tray of food. “Marcus said I should bring this to you. The Master’s awake. He’s got to take his sustenance yet.” Cook’s eyes strayed to the bed. “And sometimes that leads to a bit of a delay if you get my meaning. But you best be eating dinner and getting ready to be summoned. Marcus will be around when the Master wants to see you.”

Aisling thanked the cook and took the tray of food. After she ate, she put on the same long, modestly designed black dress she’d been given to wear the night Father Ursu brought her to Oakland.

It didn’t look the same on her. When she’d worn it before, she’d felt lonely, diminished, helpless and frightened. But tonight, its stark simplicity seemed to emphasize her blond hair and the blue of her eyes.

“Ready, miss?” Marcus asked from the doorway, making her blush at having been so absorbed in studying her image that she hadn’t heard him enter.

The furnishings grew more elegant as they moved from the servants’ area to the one that housed the Master and his family. Aisling would have loved to ask Marcus questions, but she took her cue from him and remained silent.

Finally he stopped and ushered her into a sitting room done in dark red velvet. It graced the walls, the sofa and chairs, hung in front of the windows in heavy folds.

“Well, come closer, girl,” a cranky voice said, drawing her eye to a wrinkled old man sitting in deep shadow in an overstuffed chair. He motioned with his hand. “Come on, girl. I’m not going to bite you, not on first acquaintance anyway.”

Aisling obeyed. Her heart pounded, more from uncertainty than fear. The vampire in front of her wasn’t anything like she’d imagined.

He thumped his walking stick on the hardwood floor, and she grew apprehensive that he could read her mind when he said, “You think every vampire gets turned in the prime of life?”

“I believe you’re the first she’s ever met, sir,” Marcus said from the doorway. “Until recently she’s lived in the Stockton area.”

“Primitive, backwater place.” The Master rose from his chair with the aid of his stick. “They still unenlightened there, girl?”

“They fear supernaturals and don’t welcome humans with otherworldly gifts.”

The Master snorted. “Place has been an armpit for centuries.” His gaze traveled over her, taking in the dress before lifting to spear Aisling with shrewd eyes. “You’ll do nicely, I think.” He switched his attention to Marcus.

Marcus said, “The car is ready, sir.”

“Good, good.” The Master thumped his walking stick against the floor twice to punctuate his words. “Let’s get going then. Can’t keep Draven waiting.”

The old man moved like a young man despite his frail appearance. He strode down the hall-the walking stick an accessory and not a necessity-and forced Aisling to hurry in order to catch up with him.

A dozen questions came to mind, piling one on top of the other until she shook her head to still them before climbing into the back of a long, sleek, gray limousine and taking a seat across from the Master. Curiosity kept her fear at bay as Marcus drove them to an estate surrounded by walls. But it returned with a rush when she saw the emblem carved on the heavy metal gates. A serpent held an apple in its mouth. From a point behind its head to just before the tip of its tail, the three segments of its S-shaped body were impaled by an arrow.

“You recognize the symbol?” the Master asked.

“It belongs to the ruling vampire family in San Francisco.”

“Quite so.” His eyes caught and held hers. He leaned forward abruptly and warned, “The Tassone aren’t a family to cross. Remember that.”

She nodded because it seemed to be expected of her. Then the car was stopping and Marcus was there, opening the door.

From the darkness two men appeared out of nowhere, their arrival so stealthy Aisling knew they were both vampires. Without a word they escorted Aisling and the Master into the house, one guard in front and one behind.

Incredible wealth met Aisling wherever she looked. Artwork graced the walls. Figurines adorned the polished wood surfaces of antique furniture, while larger statues, many of then on pedestals, served as focal points. But it was the library they passed that made her breath catch and her steps slow for an instant.

“Draven will see you now,” the vampire leading them said, stopping at an open doorway.

The vampire seated behind the desk was everything Aisling imagined one would look like, and it was clear why once they’d been confused with incubi and succubi. He made her think of sex as his blue eyes mesmerized and held her in place until turning to the Master.

“You both may have a seat,” Draven said, indicating two chairs placed in front of his desk.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Draven.” The Master’s voice was deferential.

“You’re here with a petition.” The statement didn’t hold even the slightest hint of interest.

The Master nodded. “Several of my business investments have paid off. I want to bring in more workers.”

“How many more?”

“One hundred head.”

“Permanent?”

“Yes.”

“Single or with families?”

“There’s usually less trouble if they have families to worry about.”

“Your one hundred could easily swell to several hundred.” Draven steepled his fingers. “Which means you need housing for them.”

“Yes. I’d like to put them on Tempe, Kenin and Grandin, and offer them protection as part of their incentive package.”

“I can see your problem. All three of those streets border your territory and are controlled by the Tucci family. They’d consider your actions one step away from annexation of their property.”

“That’s why I’ve come to you with my petition.”

Draven’s gaze moved to Aisling and pinned her to the chair. “You must believe you’ve got something I’d consider very valuable. I’m skeptical. I don’t lack for female companionship, and I have little need to enter into potential alliances as a means of satisfying physical desire.”

“The girl’s a shamaness. She owes me a shaman’s task.”

Something flickered in Draven’s eyes. “You’re Aisling, the shamaness Bishop Routledge ordered brought to Oakland.”

She shivered under the intensity of Draven’s stare and the knowledge that he knew who she was. “Yes.” It came out little more than a whisper.

He continued to study her for long moments as her heart pounded furiously in her ears regardless of how hard she tried to quiet it. Finally he turned his attention back to Marcus’s master. “You offer me a fool’s bargain.”

“Not at all. It’s me who stands to lose something of value and gain nothing in return. If she’s successful in whatever task you set her to, then I would expect to gain housing and protection rights on Tempe, Kenin and Grandin for my one hundred head plus any dependants they choose to bring with them. If she fails, I’m out what she owes me.”

“Leave her. Have your man come for her before dawn. You’ll have your answer then.”

The Master stood and left the room. Aisling wet her lips. Marcus’s conversation as they’d entered the city earlier kept her quiet in Draven’s presence.

Without a word he rose from his chair and came around the desk like a lithe, predatory cat. He wore black trousers, and combined with the white shirt and the long hair pulled back and secured by a jeweled clasp, his appearance made her think of a sea pirate.

She stiffened when he cupped her chin. Shock bolted through her when he said, “Tell me your mother’s name.”

The thunder of her heart became a buzz of anticipation. The skills she used in the spiritlands slid into place. An answer given freely was lost forever. “Do I remind you of someone?” she countered.

Draven’s sensuous lips hinted at a smile. “Yes, you do, though I’ve only seen her a few times over the years. She doesn’t call this city home. You could be her twin… or her daughter. Give me a name and I’ll tell you if it’s familiar.”