SAt.u.r.dAY, 6:38 A.M. A.M.

"SARAH-"

Sarah knew what Nikolas was going to say, and interrupted with "I won't kill my own family."

"And if it comes down to a choice between them and us?" he asked.

Kristopher tensed, his arms protective around Sarah. "We don't have to discuss this now. Much as I hate to say it, Kaleo is right. We need to talk to our people."

"Can I call Robert?" Christine's soft voice cut through the vampires' anxiety.

"I sent Robert to my mother for training, when I first learned he had been hunting," Sarah said with a wince. "She'll be watching him."

"We have some disposable cell phones," Kristopher said. "You can help Christine figure out what she can safely say."

Sarah was about to reject the idea again, but then she hesitated. Facing Kaleo the way Christine had was incredibly brave, considering her previous experiences with him. The seemingly frail human had been ripped from her own life as surely as Sarah had been, and this was the one comfort she asked.

Sarah realized, suddenly, that part of the sympathy she was feeling wasn't hers. She was picking up on Kristopher's thoughts again. She had forgotten to shield against him, and he had no ability to mask his mind.

She made an effort to block him out, but the damage-if that was what it was-had already been done. She could not be as cold and practical toward Christine as she wished to be.

She nodded. "We'll just have to be careful."

"Good," Nikolas said. "Meanwhile, Kristopher and I should go and speak to our people. They need to know the situation."

Sarah nodded, wondering with frustration, When can we kill Kaleo? When can we kill Kaleo?

There. That was her cold practicality coming back to the surface. She wanted him gone gone, and making vampires gone was a task she knew how to handle. The ancient Roman had come to them this time looking for help to save one of his people, but that didn't negate his history of destroying anything and anyone who got in his way.

She must have projected the thought, because the brothers responded to it. Kristopher nodded to Nikolas, who waited with Christine while Kristopher pulled Sarah into the next room. In the past Sarah had been able, with effort, to communicate silently with Adianna, because they were close and they had often mingled powers for a hunt, but full-blown vampiric telepathy was a talent she would need some time to get used to.

"Killing him would kill Christine," Kristopher reminded Sarah, his voice every bit as bitter as she felt. Killing a bloodbond's master was almost always fatal to the bond, as the vampire's death was felt by the bonded human. The shock too often caused the body simply to shut down.

"I could protect her," Sarah said. "It will take me a while to get the hang of using my magic again, now that it's been changed by mixing it with vampiric powers, but I can feel it and I know it's not just gone gone. I don't know any magic that can break a bloodbond, but with effort, I should be able to block Christine's connection to Kaleo long enough that she wouldn't feel his death."

Kristopher paused to consider, but finally shook his head. "Kaleo already knows what thin ice he's on; that's why he didn't dispute our claim on Christine when we insisted on bringing her to stay with us. Nikolas and I would love an excuse to challenge him, but to do so now, especially when our actions have put his people in so much danger, would be seen by others of our kind as unprovoked."

"I find myself hard-pressed to care about the opinions of other vampires," Sarah said. "And even Nikolas said he would kill him. He said it to Christine."

"And you've never said anything in a moment of anger that you couldn't follow through with?" She didn't know how to respond to that, but a moment later, Kristopher spared her the need. He ran a hand through his long hair, frustrated, as he said under his breath, "Of course not. Vida control. You never say anything you don't mean, right?" He sighed and added, "I admire your self-discipline. It's not not a trait most of our line shares, which is why we tend to hold to certain understandings, including that we don't kill each other over personal vendettas. If we did, we really would be the animals the hunters see us as...except there wouldn't be any hunters, because we would have killed ourselves off long ago." a trait most of our line shares, which is why we tend to hold to certain understandings, including that we don't kill each other over personal vendettas. If we did, we really would be the animals the hunters see us as...except there wouldn't be any hunters, because we would have killed ourselves off long ago."

Sarah was stunned, both by the bitterness in Kristopher's tone and the notion of such "certain understandings." She wasn't fully convinced that Kaleo wouldn't someday need killing, but she would hold her tongue on the subject, at least until the current crisis was dealt with.

Nikolas returned, expression somber. "Christine is activating one of the phones. It looks like it might take a while. Are we going to help Kaleo?"

"Will Heather help the hunters?" Sarah asked. Nikolas and Kristopher both shook their heads without even needing to consider. "Then they'll hurt her. She's old enough, and close enough to Kaleo, that if they decide she's useless, they might even kill her to weaken him."

"And we'll risk our necks rescuing her in order to help that b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Nikolas sighed. "Sarah, help Christine make her call, but get away from her before...Just get away from her."

"I'm not sure she should be alone right now," Sarah said.

"We won't be long," Nikolas said. "Trust me, Sarah. You don't know what a newly made vampire's hunger can be like."

"We'll help you feed safely as soon as we get the word out about the Rights," Kristopher said. "For now, be careful." He bent his head to kiss her, and whispered, "I love you," against her lips.

The brief touch of lips to lips should have been comforting, but for some reason it gave her chills. How many times had Kristopher said he loved her? She had never said it back to him. Should she?

Kristopher paused, as if hoping for a response, but then drew away. She didn't dare look at his mind; she didn't want to know if he was disappointed or relieved.

She felt numb.

The brothers both left, and Sarah sighed as some of the hard questions were deferred. She went to check on Christine, who was still struggling to activate the cell phone.

The tears on Christine's face made Sarah freeze in the doorway and think, I don't know how to handle this I don't know how to handle this.

While Sarah tried to figure out what to say, Christine abruptly threw the phone across the room with a frustrated shriek. "Why do people have to be so stupid? stupid?" she cried as the phone broke through one of the windowpanes.

She stood up, and Sarah's first instinct was to tell her to sit down, shut up and cope cope. If anyone had a right to hysterics, it was Sarah, right? But Sarah was a daughter of Vida, and she wasn't allowed such a luxury, even now. It didn't matter that the sister who had once studied Vida law beside her was now using it to remove all barriers to killing her.

She found herself staring at the shards of gla.s.s hanging loosely in the shattered window. She wanted to convince herself that even if Dominique had called the Rights of Kin, Adia would never follow them, but no matter what Sarah wanted, that was too selfish a thought to contemplate. There weren't that many Vidas left. Adia couldn't throw it all away.

Sarah was standing there, immobile, when Christine flung herself into Sarah's arms and began to weep, her sobs almost as loud as the heartbeat that suddenly seemed to ricochet through Sarah's bones. She could feel Christine's pulse everywhere they touched as Christine shrieked, "I'm so...so...tired of being helpless helpless!"

Sarah shut her eyes, trying to block out the sensation of the human's pulse and the scent of her skin.

"Robert tried to protect me. You protected me from Kaleo even though it meant trusting Nikolas. Nikolas and Kristopher try to protect me now, and I'm grateful and I do do feel better, but I'm-" She broke off with a hiccup. "I'm an idiot. I'm sorry, Sarah, I'm so-" She choked back another sob, struggling to control herself, as she pulled herself back. At the same time, Sarah regained her own control, so she could meet Christine's eye without tasting the human's heartbeat on her tongue. "I'm so selfish. This has to be so hard for you. I wish, for once, that I could be someone who could fight, who could feel better, but I'm-" She broke off with a hiccup. "I'm an idiot. I'm sorry, Sarah, I'm so-" She choked back another sob, struggling to control herself, as she pulled herself back. At the same time, Sarah regained her own control, so she could meet Christine's eye without tasting the human's heartbeat on her tongue. "I'm so selfish. This has to be so hard for you. I wish, for once, that I could be someone who could fight, who could help help, instead of someone you need to protect."

Sarah didn't think. She wasn't good at giving emotional comfort, but there was one thing she knew, and knew well, that she could use to help Christine. She asked, "Do you want me to teach you how to fight?"

Christine looked up slowly, seeming bewildered by the offer. "What?"

"You said you felt helpless," Sarah said. "I can teach you how to do things like protect yourself, and the people around you."

Christine gave her an odd look, partly of longing and partly of skepticism. Sarah expected her to say something denigrating her own potential as a fighter. Instead, she said, "Umm...I don't know how to put this, really, but...your family's methods for teaching fighting are kind of..." She trailed off, considered for a moment and then concluded with "cold."

Cold. That was one word for it. Sarah flexed her hand as the memory of her mother's reaction to her father's death pa.s.sed through her mind again.

Nikolas and Kristopher had told her to get away from Christine because they worried Sarah would lose control, but neither of them understood what it was to be a Vida. She had been trained to ignore pain, and cold, and hunger. The moment of hyperawareness earlier had been no different, really. Self-control and discipline were at the heart of a Vida's training, because they meant a hunter could continue to fight no matter what happened.

A Vida did not give up, or make deals, or compromise, or flinch even when death seemed to be the only alternative. Their line had survived intact for tens of thousands of years by obeying that mandate. Dominique probably wasn't even as strict as some of her ancestors. At least Sarah had been allowed to attend public school and, to an extent, fraternize with hunters of a less-pedigreed birth.

On the other hand, if Dominique had been as harsh as Vidas had been historically, Sarah might not be in this mess.

"You don't have to follow Vida philosophy to learn some basic self-defense," Sarah said to Christine, keeping her "what if" thoughts to herself. "It's helpful to have some concept of focus and control, but most hunters don't go to the lengths my line does...did. Look at Nikolas and Kristopher. They fight well, especially when they're together."

Again, the words brought an unpleasant memory to mind. Sarah knew how well the two of them fought, and how cooperatively they worked in a fight, because that had been how she had lost.

Every hunter knew that the day would come when she was too slow, but most never needed to reflect on it afterward. They certainly did not wake up in the arms of the one who had taken them down.

"Anyway," she said. "I can teach you whatever you want to learn, even if it's just how to throw a punch or get out of a hold."

Christine nodded. "I think I would like that," she said. "It's finally getting through my mind that I could be around a long long time, and I don't want to be a victim forever. Some of the bloodbonds I've met are like that. They just expect Nikolas to take care of everything. I want to scream at them, ' time, and I don't want to be a victim forever. Some of the bloodbonds I've met are like that. They just expect Nikolas to take care of everything. I want to scream at them, 'Who's taking care of him?'"

Sarah smiled. "You know," she said wryly, "if you weren't in love with a vampire, you would probably make a good hunter. You have a strong instinct to protect people."

"Back at you, sister," Christine quipped. "We're in the same boat, maybe for eternity. So teach me something!"

Christine used it casually, but that word, sister sister, threw Sarah off balance. Where was Sarah's real sister now? Was she stalking innocents like Christine to get to Nikolas and Kristopher? Was she moving ever closer to checkmate, when Sarah would have to decide whether to stand with her birth kin or her blood kin?

Unsettled, she said, "I didn't really mean right now now. What about calling Robert?"

Christine took a breath and dropped her gaze before saying, "Yeah, like I didn't see your face when I first asked. And you're right. Robert thinks your family is the good guys. I want want to talk to him, but it would only get him into trouble. After this is sorted out, I'll call him, but until then I need to do to talk to him, but it would only get him into trouble. After this is sorted out, I'll call him, but until then I need to do something something. C'mon. What else do you have to do tonight?"

Christine's heartbeat had already been fast because of her anxiety, but now her scent changed. Sarah wasn't sure how she recognized the difference, using a sense so new, but she could tell that Christine's fear dropped. The tangy spice of adrenaline filled the air. Her face flushed.

"What?" Christine asked.

"Hmm?"

Christine frowned. "Never mind, I guess. You looked like you were going to say something."

Sarah nodded, but she realized she could barely hear the words Christine was saying. The sound rising above all others in her ears was the whoosh-whoosh whoosh-whoosh of blood racing through a hundred thousand miles of arteries, veins and capillaries. She realized that if she looked closely enough, she could see the beat not just at the pulse points, but across the surface of Christine's skin. It flickered like a fluorescent light. of blood racing through a hundred thousand miles of arteries, veins and capillaries. She realized that if she looked closely enough, she could see the beat not just at the pulse points, but across the surface of Christine's skin. It flickered like a fluorescent light.

And now there was fear in the air.

"Sarah?" Christine asked nervously.

The word-a name, so powerful that many ancient peoples had kept theirs forever secret from all but those closest to them-was just enough to let Sarah pull back a little and realize the tone her thoughts had taken.

Even once she was aware of it, she couldn't stop looking looking. She fought the instinct to move closer. She forced herself to take a step backward instead, but h.e.l.lishly, contrary to any common sense, Christine responded by moving closer and reaching out as if she intended to touch Sarah, possibly to offer comfort but...insanity!

She had to get out of there.

She had been so confident about her self-control, so arrogant arrogant, she had forgotten something she had learned every day of her life: how "good" a person a vampire was, or tried to be, ceased to matter when the vampiric blood took over. There was a monster inside, and it would use the body it inhabited to do what it wanted. Sarah might think she was in control at that moment, but the blood inside her now would be with her the rest of her existence, just waiting for her to slip up.

Eventually, inevitably, she would. A moment would come when she was too weak to stop herself, and when that moment was done, she would be left with an innocent corpse in her arms.

She pulled away from Christine. She had to get somewhere safe...where she she was safe...no, where she would be made safe. Her self-control would only get worse from here on out. was safe...no, where she would be made safe. Her self-control would only get worse from here on out.

She had to do this while she still could, before she did something terrible.

She went home.

CHAPTER 7

SAt.u.r.dAY, 7:05 A.M. A.M.

ZACHARY WOKE SHAKING, sweating and scared. He didn't remember the dreams that had forced him from sleep with his heart pounding and the sharp tang of adrenaline on his tongue, and for that he was grateful. Sometimes he did did remember, and those mornings were never easy. remember, and those mornings were never easy.

He didn't get up immediately, didn't even open his eyes. Instead, he lay perfectly still, barely breathing, until the flush of fight-or-flight pa.s.sed. He realized his jaw was clenched, as if he had been bracing against pain and struggling not to scream.

He tossed onto his stomach, curling his arms under his head until his right hand found the hilt of his knife sheathed on his left wrist, like a child grasping a teddy bear for comfort. He wished he could sleep for another hour. Maybe he would have a good dream.

Or maybe another nightmare.

What dragged him up was not fear of sleeping demons, but the knowledge that Dominique wouldn't approve of his oversleeping when there was work to do.

By the time he opened his eyes, he was perfectly composed, enough that even Dominique wouldn't have recognized the terror that had filled him only a minute before.

He glanced at the clock; he had slept for twenty-four minutes, just enough to revive him and get rid of the headache.

He ducked briefly into the kitchen, where he found Michael, Jay and Robert. Michael was bent over a SingleEarth-published book about shapeshifter physiology. Jay was looking through the window with a pair of small binoculars, probably bird-watching. Robert was staring at Heather, who was either sleeping or unconscious. Maybe someone had finally gotten fed up with her.

Jay replied to what Zachary was about to ask before Zachary could say anything out loud. "We're fine here. Dominique just called. She'll be back in a minute, probably in a foul mood, since she says her informant stood her up, but you should have some time to clean up first."

Robert looked confused when Jay first spoke, and then startled to find another hunter standing over his shoulder. Michael glanced up and then returned to his book without uttering a word.

"I'll do that, then," Zachary said. He had forgotten to shield his thoughts when approaching the kitchen. He wouldn't make that mistake again. He would, however, take Jay's advice. The shirt he was wearing still had blood on it from Heather's X-Acto attack.

He had only a couple of outfits in this house-Dominique had asked him to stay here while they tracked Sarah, and he hadn't brought many of his belongings-but that was fine, because to Zachary Vida, dressed dressed could mean any clothing plus two things: a weapon and a woven silver chain with a white-gold pendant in the figure-eight symbol for eternity. The chain was his only remaining memento of his mother. The pendant had been a gift from another woman. could mean any clothing plus two things: a weapon and a woven silver chain with a white-gold pendant in the figure-eight symbol for eternity. The chain was his only remaining memento of his mother. The pendant had been a gift from another woman.

Dominique didn't know either one existed, as both were always hidden by his undershirt, which was under the harness that held his primary knife at the small of his back.

Once fully dressed, he returned to the kitchen; he walked in just in time to see Dominique backhand Heather. Robert grabbed the witch's arm and dragged her away from the bloodbond, earning a cold warning expression that made even the foolhardy human take a step back.

"This isn't going to help anything," Robert protested. "She already hates us. Beating her up isn't going to make her like us more."

"And you claim to be the good guys," Heather snapped.

The expression on Dominique's face was enough to make Zachary hesitate in the doorway. Though few other people would have noticed, Zachary could see the tension at the edges of her eyes and lips.

He would never ask about it, but he did did wonder: Was there part of Dominique that was weakened by the loss of her daughter? Was there anywhere in her heart where she blamed herself? Could Dominique Vida feel regret, or was she just frustrated by the delay in catching her current prey? wonder: Was there part of Dominique that was weakened by the loss of her daughter? Was there anywhere in her heart where she blamed herself? Could Dominique Vida feel regret, or was she just frustrated by the delay in catching her current prey?

Zachary understood impatience. When he had been eight, he had spent as many hours walking the colicky Sarah as he had training. He had warmed bottles at three in the morning and sung her to sleep when her father wasn't home to do so. He had held her hands as she'd learned to walk, and grinned in a very un-Vida fashion as she'd learned her first fighting forms. Now every minute that pa.s.sed was a minute when he failed her and let her dead body be violated.

He tried to strike the thoughts from his mind. That way lay the same kind of madness of grief that had gripped his mother after Jacqueline was taken, and a kind of shame he had no desire to share with the Marinitch next to him.

Perhaps too abruptly, he asked, "Jay, isn't this what you're you're here for?" here for?"

As frail as Heather looked, Zachary did not doubt that she would be willing to kill every one of them if given a chance. And she had certainly experienced worse abuse at Kaleo's hands than Dominique was unleashing now-which meant Robert was right: this was a useless way of getting her to talk. Why wasn't the d.a.m.ned telepath doing his job?

Jay turned in his seat to answer the question, naked grat.i.tude on his face as he looked away from Dominique. "This one has been around vampires for a couple centuries, I'd guess. She knows how to obscure her thoughts. Anything you could do to her that is severe enough to disrupt her concentration would cause too much distress for me to read her past it."