"Do not fear me. I would not have you come to me afraid."

She kissed my cheek, and I leaned into her. I let her hold me in her arms, let her do anything she wanted to me, because her touch reached deep inside me, into my gut. A warmth rose there; my body clenched in anticipation.

Her breath caressed my neck. I might have moaned a little, because I felt so warm, burning up. She held me close, pulling that warmth into her.

"Rest your head, my dear." She guided my head to her shoulder. I shut my eyes and pressed my face against her.

She pushed the coat sleeve up my left arm, past the elbow. She supported the arm—I couldn't have, at that point. I felt like I was melting; I wanted to melt into her. She kissed the inside of my arm, firing all the nerves. I bit my lip, overwhelmed.

She traced a line up my forearm with her tongue, tasting and kissing. My hand closed into a fist, which she braced. Her mouth closed over my wrist, but I didn't feel anything except her attention, her caresses, her love.

The skin pinched, the bite. By then, I wanted it.

When she drew away, I felt like a veil had fallen, or that I'd woken from a dream.

I needed a cold shower. Very cold.

"It's over," she said. And it was. She straightened, pulling away from me. I didn't know where I'd been, but suddenly I was back in the closet under Alette's stairs, in the dark, wrapped in a trenchcoat. "Are you all right?"

"Um, yeah. I mean, I think… wow." It made sense, really. All part of that vampire seduction gambit: lure the prey to you, give it a reason to open its veins. Sure cut down on that messy struggling. "Just so you know, I'm straight. Totally straight. As an arrow."

Her voice held a smile. "So am I."

I smelled a touch of blood on her breath. My blood.

She no longer sounded tired, defeated, like she had a moment ago. She sat straight without effort, and the glint in her eye had returned. She seemed ready for battle.

Two sets of footsteps pounded across the foyer, right outside our hiding place. Alette looked out at the sound, frowning. Then, she pushed at the door.

"No—" I grabbed for her but missed. She slipped through the opening before I could reach her.

What could I do but follow?

Outside, in the foyer, she stood tall on her injured feet—except they didn't seem quite as injured. The redness seemed to have faded, just as her face now seemed flushed and lively.

Before her, two black-clad soldiers held handguns pointed at her. They clutched the guns in two-handed grips, straight-armed, sighting down the barrels.

"You don't want to do that," Alette said, her voice like honey, music, seduction, passion, all together. "You'd like to put your weapons down now."

Calmly, she looked back and forth between them. I couldn't see Alette's eyes at this moment. I didn't want to—her gaze focused intently on the soldiers. The men didn't shoot, they didn't say anything. One of them—his arms were trembling, causing the gun to waver.

"I know you're both reasonable gentlemen. You deserve a rest. You're very calm. Very quiet. That's right."

They both lowered their arms slowly, hypnotically, until they were hanging loose at their sides. After that, they didn't twitch a muscle. They didn't shiver, they didn't blink. They stood like statues, caught in Alette's gaze. Their breathing was slow and rhythmic, as if they slept, but their eyes were open. One of the guys' jaw hung open a little. He wasn't quite drooling.

Alette pulled the guns out of their hands and gingerly put the weapons in the closet. She closed the door. She left the soldiers standing motionless in the foyer.

How did vampires do that?

I crept past them, hardly believing they wouldn't reach out to grab me.

She went to the back of the foyer, to the hallway that led to the kitchen. "Leo will be downstairs by this hour."

Her gaze narrowed. The hunter had found her trail.

She walked confidently down the hallway, which opened to a modern, impressively furnished kitchen—stainless-steel counters, pots hanging above an island workstation. It seemed to be equipped to prepare and serve state dinners. Who was I to say it hadn't? Alette passed it all by, heading for a door on the far side, by the fridge.

She paused, hand on the doorknob, tilting her head to listen. So, that was the door to the basement, where the vampires spent their days in darkness and safety. Leo might be stretching out for a nap, thinking he was safe.

Or he might have been waiting for us, armed with machine guns.

"Alette, this isn't—"

She opened the door.

Common sense didn't play any part in her current motivation. Revenge probably had a big part in it, along with a liberal dose of blind rage. She didn't wait to see if I'd follow or not.

I followed.

The glow of soft lighting cast an aura up the carpeted stairs. Soundlessly, Alette stepped down.

The basement room was as Victorian in decoration as the rest of the house. Brocade wallpaper, plush carpet, antique lamps. It was a bedroom. No coffins, but a king-sized four-poster bed sat in the back, along with dressers and wardrobes, and a vanity table without the mirror.

Leo sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over the body of a young woman. Her brown hair lay loose over her shoulders, and her hands were folded over her stomach. She wore a college logo sweatshirt and faded jeans.

"It's Emma," I whispered.

"He used her as a hostage. That was how he overcame me. He promised to keep her safe," she said, sharp as steel, biting off the words.

Emma seemed asleep. I hoped she was just asleep.

Leo looked up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand—an ominous gesture, though I didn't see what he wiped away. A snarl curled his lips. He stood, clenching his hands, and took a step toward us. He faced Alette across the room.

"You're supposed to be dead," Leo said, his voice low, tight with emotion.

"I've been dead for quite some time, my dear."

I left the stairs and moved from behind her, my back hunched like hackles rising, glaring warily.

His gaze met mine and narrowed. "Flemming set you loose, did he? He's too soft for the game he's playing."

I wondered, if I got a chance to wring Leo's neck, would he tell me what that game was? I could wring it with little crosses on chains.

"You could do what you liked with me if you kept Emma safe," Alette said. "What have you done to her?"

Leo laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He rounded his shoulders like a prizefighter entering the ring. Alette seemed unaffected, standing poised and still as always.

"You sold me out, destroyed my home, my children. Why?"

Leo laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. "Why? That's simple. You are the worst waste of resources I have ever encountered. You command an empire, Alette. And what do you use it for? Nesting. You are an immortal goddess, and you can't seem to do anything but play the part of a stupid woman."

Wow. Not like he was from the nineteenth century or anything.

Alette didn't even flinch. In fact, a new resolve seemed to settle on her, like something inside her had hardened. "Is that so? If you felt that way, why stay with me for two centuries? That's a long time to have to cope with stupidity. I should know."

Leo's jaw dropped, like he was actually offended. I put my hand in my pocket, curling my fingers around the crosses there.

"He's only just now found allies with firepower," I said. "Tell us what Flemming gets by sending his men to work for you. You couldn't have taken over the place without their help."

He scowled. "I don't talk to animals."

"Oh, give me a break!"

"Answer the question, Leo," Alette said, cold and implacable. The "stupid woman" had commanded men for centuries with that voice. Even now, Leo couldn't break the habit.