Here we go, Lina thought as she turned, her shoulders stiff, her posture rigid, her smile forced. "So nice to meet you... Bambi, is it? And my goodness, what gigantic t.i.ts you have! What are those, triple-D's?"

She froze, her eyes widening, her heart suddenly shuddering to a halt. "Oh, my G.o.d," she whispered when she saw who approached from behind her, who Rene's houseguest was. "Brandon!"

She flew across the room, grinning broadly, her eyes flooded with sudden tears. He blinked at her, shocked, and then she plowed into him, throwing her arms around his neck. She leaped against him, wrapping her legs around his waist, staggering him momentarily, and felt his arms encircle her, his hands slipping against her b.u.t.tocks to support her, as he had in her dream.

"Brandon!" she cried, her face buried against his neck. She kissed him, taking his face between her hands and pressing her lips over and over against his cheeks and brow, his nose and mouth. He smiled, kissing her back, but there was pain apparent in his eyes, the sudden lift of his brows, and in the ragged intake of his breath against her lips.

"What is it?" she asked, alarmed, dropping her feet immediately to the floor and drawing away from him. He stumbled, his knees buckling, and she got an arm around to support him. "Oh, my G.o.d, Brandon!" she gasped. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He shook his head, holding up his index finger as he tried to reclaim his breath. Give me a minute.

Lina looked over her shoulder at Rene. "What happened to him? What's wrong?"

"You two know each other?" Rene asked, walking toward her. He smiled somewhat wryly. "I take it so, chere. I'll be d.a.m.ned.

This world just keeps getting smaller by the minute."

"Oh, my G.o.d," Lina whispered, shocked, as she drew back the last of the bandages covering Brandon's wound. She looked into his eyes, at the pain that was still visible and obvious there. "We have to get you to a hospital."

At this, Rene shook his head. The girl who had come out of the bathroom, introduced as Brandon's twin sister, Tessa-who Lina had met of a sort the night before outside of Jackson's apartment building-shook her head.

"No, we don't, chere," Rene said, just as Tessa had opened her mouth to speak. "He's going to be fine. He just needs to rest."

Lina stared at him, her eyes wide. Is he drunk? she thought. Is he out of his G.o.dd.a.m.n mind? "He doesn't need to rest, Rene- he's been shot!" she exclaimed. "A bullet punched through his chest!"

She and Brandon had been sitting side by side on a couch, but she stood now. "Come on, Brandon. I'll take you."

To her utter astonishment, he shook his head. No, Lina, he signed, and his brows lifted, his dark eyes imploring. It's alright. Please don't be upset. It will be healed in a couple of weeks. It's already much better today. You don't understand- "You're right-I don't," she snapped. "What the h.e.l.l is the matter with you-all of you? Bullet wounds don't just heal in a couple of weeks! You... you could get an infection! You could have fragments left in there, or internal bleeding, nerve damage-G.o.d only knows what!"

No, Lina, Brandon signed, his expression gentle. I'm not like you. That won't happen to me.

She blinked at him, stricken, something about his words, the look on his face, sending a creeping chill along her spine. I'm not like you.

"What are you talking about?" she whispered.

"If you take him to the hospital, chere, they'll just make it worse, like they did for me," Rene said.

She turned to him, wide eyed with shock. "Rene, they saved your life. Is that what this is about-your leg? I'm sorry you lost it. I know it's eating you up inside, and it breaks my heart for you, but you can't do this to Brandon. You can't fill his mind with that s.h.i.t, make him afraid to get help. He could die, Rene. He could-"

Lina.

Her voice cut abruptly short as she heard a soft voice in her mind-a voice that was not her own. It was a man's voice, quiet, deep, and gentle. She'd never heard it in her life, and yet it was suddenly, poignantly familiar to her. She turned, staggering in surprise. "Brandon...?" she gasped. He rose to his feet. Lina, listen to me, he said inside of her mind, his mouth motionless, his lips lifting softly in a smile. I'm not like you. None of us are.

Chapter Twenty-one.

"You're all crazy," Lina whispered. She'd sat again, watching as Brandon had signed to her, telling her things that he called the truth-about himself, his sister, his family, and even Rene. Things that made her head spin to consider; her gut ache to even think about. Things that sound too f.u.c.king nuts to be possible.

She blinked against stunned tears and shook her head. "You can't honestly expect me to believe this. That you're all vampires, like... like something out of a comic book or... or a G.o.dd.a.m.n horror movie?" She stood, her brows furrowed. "You're all crazy."

She started to leave, to storm toward the door, but Brandon rose to his feet, catching her by the hand. Again, she heard his voice in her head, pleading and plaintive. Lina, please...!

"Stop that!" she cried, jerking loose of him. "Stop doing that! How are you doing that?"

He reached for her, but she shoved him away. Again, he reached for her, brushing his hand against her cheek, and she pushed him. Lina, I love you, he signed, folding his hands against his heart.

He touched her again, caressing her cheek with the cuff of his knuckles and she tried to turn away from him. I love you, he finger-spelled with his free hand, leaning toward her, kissing her softly. His lips lingered, the kiss deepening, his tongue slipping gently, sweetly against hers.

I love you, he finger-spelled again as he drew away. His hand left her face and he signed. Among my family, there's a rite of pa.s.sage called the bloodletting. It's where we feed for the first time-when we kill someone for the first time. I was supposed to have my bloodletting five years ago, on the night Jackson took you to the casino boat in Indiana. My family wanted me to kill you.

Lina recoiled at this, gasping in shock.

I couldn't, Brandon signed. I don't want to kill anybody. That's why I got Jackson to leave the farm with you. Then I hid in his house all night until the ceremony was over, and the bloodl.u.s.t had faded within me.

The bloodl.u.s.t. This is insane, Lina thought. I can't believe I'm standing here, listening to this. But the more he explained, the more it made sense. She remembered the night Jackson had brought her to Indiana to gamble. Neither of them were particularly enthusiastic about the prospect, but had gone anyway. Brandon gave me three hundred bucks for it, Jackson had told her on the drive north. Said his father wanted me to have it. They're having some kind of big party there tonight. He'd spared his sister a wry smile and a wink. Must not have wanted us around.

My grandfather had Jackson fired to punish me, Brandon signed. After that, my dad was able to keep me from the bloodletting for awhile. I started taking Wellbutrin-Jackson helped me get it-to help control the bloodl.u.s.t, because it could dampen it, keep it from growing inside of me.

Oh, G.o.d, Lina thought, blinking against new tears. That's why he was taking the medicine?

I knew I wouldn't be able to get away with it forever, Brandon told her. So I came up with a plan to get out of there. I applied to Gallaudet. Jackson helped me with the enrollment. But my grandfather found out last year, and that's when he broke my hands.

Lina stared at him, stricken. He told me once they were healed, I would go through my bloodletting, Brandon said. He was going to make me kill someone, Lina, whether I wanted to or not. That's why I ran away. You saw Caine and Emily, what happens to us when the bloodl.u.s.t takes over. I don't want to be like that... His hands trembled. A monster, like them.

Lina looked over his shoulder toward Rene and Tessa. "If that's true," she said quietly, her voice hoa.r.s.e and unsteady. And I can't believe it is, she added mentally. I can't oh, Christ, I just can't! "If what Brandon's told me is the truth, then you're both murderers. You... you kill people so you can feed on them." She glared at Tessa. "Illegal immigrants your family tricks into working on their farms-like they're G.o.dd.a.m.n cattle to you."

Tessa's dark eyes swam with shame, glistening with sudden tears, and she blinked down at her feet. "It's not her fault," Rene said, draping his hand against her shoulder. "She didn't know any better than what they told her. Her whole life through, she heard that's the way it's supposed to be. I never had anyone to tell me all that. I had to figure out everything about who I am- what I am-on my own."

"So you've never killed anyone?" Lina challenged, locking gazes with him. She'd never stood against Rene, not in all of the years she'd known him, and for a moment, his face clouded, hurt.

"I can't say that, chere, no," he said quietly, and then his brows narrowed slightly. "But then again, neither can you. n.o.body here's got themselves a guiltless life. Do you want to sit and split hairs all afternoon or do you want to do something to help your boy? Because out of all of us, chere, you're the only one who can."

No. Brandon shook his head. He finger-spelled it. He signed it, snapping his two forefingers closed over his thumb. He jerked back the cover on his bra.s.s-plated notebook and wrote it in big, block letters: NO.

"Brandon, do you want to be laid up here for weeks, as feeble as a kitten, waiting for these Elders of yours to coming sniffing around?" Rene asked, frowning at him. "Lina says thanks to 'Jude Law,' they're probably well on their way, and from what I understand from pischouette here, they don't sound like they'll be coming to pay you a friendly sort of visit."

"They'll kill you, Brandon," Tessa said. "It's not a question of if they find us. It's when."

Then I'll go, Brandon signed to Lina. Tell Rene to give me the G.o.dd.a.m.n car keys, and I'll leave, head west-California, Oregon, something. That's been my plan all along.

"You can't leave, Brandon," Lina said. "Not like this-you're hurt."

"You need to heal, pet.i.t," said Rene.

I don't have time to heal, Rene, Brandon wrote angrily in the notebook. He ripped the page out and thrust it forward, holding it out so Rene could read.

"I know you don't," Rene replied. "That's why you need to feed."

Christ, here we go again, Brandon thought. No, no, no, he wrote. I'm not going to do it, Rene. I know you can-you can feed without killing, and that's all well and good, but I can't! And I can't ask that of Lina, besides. She already thinks we're all f.u.c.king nuts!

"I'll do it," Lina said quietly, within Brandon's line of sight He blinked, jerking as if she'd physically struck him. "I'll do it," she said again. "If everything you've told me is true, and it will help you, make you strong again, I'll do it."

No, Brandon signed. No, absolutely not, G.o.dd.a.m.n it, no!"Brandon," Lina said, catching his hands, staying him. "I love you." He blinked at her, startled, and she smiled gently at him. "I love you," she said again, reaching up with one hand to caress his face. She leaned toward him, kissing him, settling her lips lightly, gently against his own. "I love you," she said as she drew away.

I'm scared, Brandon thought to Tessa.

She smiled at him, brushing his hair back from his brow. I know, she said. It will be alright. Just keep your mind opened to Rene. Listen to him. Learn from him. Her eyes grew sorrowful. "I wish I could help you through this," she said.

He drew her against his uninjured shoulder, hugging her fiercely. You already have, Tessa, he thought, closing his eyes against the sting of tears. More than you know.

She stepped aside, retreating to the far side of the loft. Brandon knelt on a large oriental rug spread out in front of the fireplace.

He struggled not to grimace as he did this, hoping if he could just prove he wasn't in nearly as much pain as he was, that Lina would abandon the entire idea. It didn't work. She was already kneeling on the rug facing him, and he could tell by the way her brows lifted, crimping with worry, that she'd seen the pain in his face.

"Brandon," she whispered, and he tried to smile at her in clumsy rea.s.surance.

"Here we go," Rene said, leaning between them and handing them each a tumbler half-filled with vodka. He lifted a third one- filled significantly higher-from a nearby coffee table and raised it in hand. "A votre sante," he offered in toast.

"What's this for?" Lina asked, giving it an experimental sniff.

"Liquid courage," Rene replied. "And besides, it must be happy hour somewhere, no?" He tilted his head back, draining the gla.s.s dry.

Lina glanced at Brandon, then swallowed her own shot What the h.e.l.l, Brandon thought He leaned his head back, downing the vodka. He choked slightly, blinking at the sudden backwash of heat that stung his eyes and nose.

It had been more than a full day since Brandon had last taken his Wellbutrin, and his metabolism had completely eradicated any of its subduing effects on his system. When he scooted toward Lina, touching the side of her face and leaning toward her so that he could nuzzle her throat gently, it stoked an immediate and powerful arousal in his mouth. He felt heat seep into his gums as they swelled; the sockets of his canine teeth ached.

He was afraid he would hurt Lina. She was afraid of this, too; he could feel it in the way her body stiffened against him, the way her breath grew sharp and anxious. There must be something in our saliva, what do they call it? An a.n.a.lgesic, Rene had said. Anise tells me she feels pressure when I bite her, but nothing that hurts. And I know there's something in us that makes their blood clot faster when we're finished with them, otherwise they'd bleed to death for sure.

Brandon kissed Lina's throat, his lips drawing lightly against her skin, and the taste of her, the sudden, maddening awareness of her pulse beneath her flesh, its fluttering rhythm, and the smell of her blood made him dizzy. He could feel his teeth dropping from the roof of his mouth, beginning a slow but certain descent.

Will this make me like you? Lina had asked. If Brandon bites me, won't that make me a vampire, too?

Only in the movies, chere, Rene had replied.

Brandon felt it when his lower jaw slid reflexively out of socket; a dull, popping sensation beneath his ears. That's so you can get your mouth wide enough to bite in the right place, Rene had explained. So you can sink your teeth in at the right angle to hit the carotid artery.

He could feel the bloodl.u.s.t rising in him, immediate and urgent, as it had come upon him on the day he'd met Lina, outside the Chinese restaurant. Then, he'd kissed her, his mind confusing one l.u.s.t for another, but this time, with her throat so tantalizingly within his reach, with his fangs fully extended and poised against her trembling flesh, he knew there'd be no such mistake. He could feel her blood surging through her body, racing through her carotid artery, pulsating just beneath the delicate surface of her skin. He drew the tip of his tongue against her pulse point, and she flinched, hooking her fingertips against his shoulder.

Go ahead, pet.i.t, he heard Rene said quietly in his mind. It's time.

Brandon closed his eyes, feeling a warm, flushed wave wash over him, dragging him under, just as it had done on the sidewalk outside of Joe's Wok. The bloodl.u.s.t. It seized hold of him, and he moved on instinct, settling his mouth against Lina's throat, opening his lips wide. He pressed the points of his canines against her flesh, and she stiffened against him, her breath jerking in a gasp as he bit her. He felt his teeth punch through her skin, sinking into the firm meat beneath, spearing past ligaments and tendons and sliding into her artery. He felt her blood suddenly surge into his mouth, spurting with the force of her heartbeat, shooting against the back of his palate. He nearly choked, but felt Rene touch the back of his head gently, holding him in place, keeping him fixed against Lina's throat.

He swallowed, sucking down a thick mouthful, tasting the coppery, musky flavor of Lina's blood against his tongue. With every thrumming beat of her heart, blood filled his mouth; he hardly had to suck against her at all. Again and again, he swallowed, and the more he drank, the more urgent his need seemed to become. He leaned against Lina, easing her back against the rug, pressing himself atop her as if he meant to make love to her. Her fingers twined in his hair, her other hand splayed against her shoulders, and she drew him near, moving her body beneath him, slowly, rhythmically, as if she lay beneath a lover. He swallowed frantically, his mouth pressed against her throat, his mind consumed with heat, bright and searing, the bloodl.u.s.t in full, unbridled release.

Brandon, Rene said, his hand falling against his shoulder. That's enough. Let her go now.

Brandon's eyes snapped open and he drew abruptly back from Lina, his mouth still full of blood. He stared down at her, stricken and aghast. Her eyelids fluttered momentarily, and she smiled dazedly at him.

Are you alright? he thought to her, and she nodded.

"I'm fine," she murmured. "Rene's right. It... it didn't hurt..."

Brandon rolled off of her, taking her by the hands and helping her stumble to her feet. The wounds in her neck still seeped, even though, as Rene had promised, the violent measure of bleeding was already ending. She staggered against him, pressing her hand against her head as soon as she was upright. Brandon watched in horror as her eyes rolled back, and then she crumpled, her knees failing her.

Lina! he cried in his mind, catching her in his arms. He knelt, lowering her to the floor again, grimacing as pain speared through his injured shoulder. He looked up at Rene, frightened and panic stricken. Rene! Help me! Oh, G.o.d, what have I done?

It was a very fine line between feeding and killing. Rene had made that sternly clear to Brandon. A human can only afford to lose a pint or so of blood, maybe two, at best, he'd said. So you can't get greedy, no matter how you might want to- even if you feel you need to. Because you don't have to bleed them dry to kill them.

Rene leaned over, reaching beneath Lina's hair and pressing his fingertips against her throat. He met Brandon's eyes and smiled.

"She's okay, pet.i.t," he said. "She's just fainted, that's all. Her pulse is strong, and keeping steady. She'll need to rest a little bit."

You're sure? Brandon asked, still unconvinced and frantic.

Rene clapped him on the shoulder. I'm positive, he replied. She's no worse off now than if she'd donated at the Red Cross.

It's just the shock of it, that's all. Sometimes they pa.s.s out. How about you? How are you feeling?

Brandon touched his shoulder gingerly. It still pained him as much as ever-more so, even, from having borne Lina's sudden and unexpected weight. He blinked at Rene, confused. I don't feel any different, he thought. Nothing at all, Rene. I feel just the same.

"Don't worry. You will," Rene said, with a wink. "It takes time for your body to process the blood. Trust me-a few more hours, and you'll be flying. It's almost as good as making love. Almost." He cut his eyes across the loft, in the direction Tessa had followed, and his bright expression faltered. "I'll carry Lina to your bed, pet.i.t, how about that? Then, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I still owe your sister an apology."

I can't leave now, Brandon thought. He'd curled up alongside of Lina on the bed behind the white silk drapes, her back against his belly, her b.u.t.tocks tucked against his groin. He slipped his arm across her waist and twined his fingers through hers. She rested comfortably, her breathing deep and slow, and he closed his eyes. He could still taste her in his mouth, the coppery flavor of her blood against his tongue.

I can't leave now, he thought again. He was tired of running, so wretchedly exhausted of being afraid. Before, that had seemed like his only option; running, the only escape he might find from who and what he was. But now he realized that wasn't true.

Rene was right. I don't have to kill to feed. I don't have to try and drug my bloodl.u.s.t into submission. I can control it.

And if he could control it, Brandon realized he could have the kind of life that Rene enjoyed-the kind he had so desperately wanted for so long. A life among humans-unnoticed, undetected.

A life with Lina, he thought, the fragrance of her hair, light and sweet, like baby oil, against his nose.

If he ran again, it wouldn't be for the last time, and Brandon knew it. The Brethren would never give up. The Elders had been unleashed. The Grandfather had promised him no place on earth or measure of time would keep him safe, and Brandon believed him. He couldn't bear the thought of never being able to stay in one place for too long, of having to constantly make and break friendships as he fled, leaving people behind.

I can't leave Lina, he thought. I can't. I love her.

If he couldn't keep running, it left only one other alternative. He would have to stand his ground against the Elders-and the Grandfather. He would have to fight them.

Lina stirred against him, rousing. She rolled slightly, looking over her shoulder at him and smiled. "Hey, you," she said, reaching up and touching his face. "Did it work?"

He shook his head and her smile faltered. Not yet, he thought to her. But it will, and soon. Rene said it should take a couple of hours.