Trixie kissed Vincent before leaving the office. She bought herself a few new outfits and a pair of thigh-high red leather boots she intended to wear with nothing else, just for Vincent some day soon.

By the time she returned to the office, Jules had a report for them about Seraphim.

"He has extensive internal injuries," the slender hybrid said. "I repaired as much as I could, but I'll need a.s.sistance for the rest. Matthew Winter is flying in from Boston tomorrow. He'll a.s.sist me as soon as Seraphim is strong enough to continue the surgery."

"s.h.i.t, he was fighting and everything with the bullet in him," Vincent said.

"I'm still amazed he was able to function with that type of injury. The projectile exploded into pieces on impact. The delay between when the injury was sustained and when treatment was provided has proved detrimental to his recovery."

"f.u.c.k. You mean he could still croak?" Vincent snarled, shaking his head.

"I doubt that," Jules a.s.sured him. "It just means he'll need more time to recuperate. He was very lucky your field dressing was adequate."

"Cool." Vincent folded his arms across his chest. "He awake?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't recommend upsetting him as you did when we were removing him from the truck."

"I'll go talk to him," Trixie said.

"Why you?"

"Because just seeing your face will upset him, Dilorenzo."

"Hey, you aren't starting to get hot for this guy, are you? Every woman who looks at him falls dead."

"That's not true. How could I fall dead for any guy when I've got you?" Trixie stood close to Vincent and kissed him while tucking a discreet hand between them and grasping his crotch.

Vincent growled, his eyes burning her back as she followed Jules to Seraphim's room.

Strange that when vampires were ill they appeared almost mortal. Wired and pale, Seraphim seemed to be asleep, but when she sat beside him and touched his shoulder, he murmured, "Hannah?"

"Trixie," she said.

He opened his eyes and glanced at her. The vampiric glow was gone, and she wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one.

"I'm going back to the mansion. I'll keep an eye on Hannah. You want me to tell her anything?"

He shook his head. "The less she knows the better." "I'm using the cover that Vincent and I had a fight..." "Good cover. Anyone would believe it."

Trixie grinned. "And that he took off and you went with him as a friend. Want me to give her any message? How about a nice "roses or red" poem or something? We women love that s.h.i.t."

"Tell her I miss her and can't wait to see her again."

Trixie felt herself melting towards this guy in spite of how much he irritated her for hating Vincent. "I think she'll like that better than a stupid poem. Rest up and good luck with the Network. Try leveling with Vincent and Lindsay. They will help you. Trust me."

Trixie left Seraphim and met Vincent in the waiting room.

"How's he doing?"

"Okay. He's got it bad for Hannah, I'll tell you that."

"Yeah, well I got it bad for you." Vincent tugged her into his arms. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

They walked down the hall to the bathroom. Vincent dragged her inside and locked the door.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing, Dilorenzo?"

"Giving you something to remember me by." He unzipped his pants and jerked down hers. His hands slipped beneath her shirt and caressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, rolling her nipples with his thumbs as he sucked on her tongue. He lifted off her shirt while she unb.u.t.toned his.

"d.a.m.n it, Dilorenzo, we're in the can!"

"Who cares." His breath was harsh in her ear. He bent his knees and slid upward, filling her with his warm, hard c.o.c.k. He licked her ear, then tilted her head to the side and sank his fangs into her neck.

Trixie gasped and clung to him, her arms locked around his neck, her legs tight around his waist as he rammed her against the wall. As o.r.g.a.s.m rocked her, she bit his shoulder, tasting his blood and feeling their mingled climax. d.a.m.n, the man made her feel like a G.o.ddess!

"I'm going to miss you, Trix!" he panted against her neck, his hands stroking her shoulders.

"Me too, Dilorenzo. Now can you move a little? My a.s.s is stuck to the tile."

"Sure, baby." He tugged her away from the tile, grasped both of her a.s.s cheeks and squeezed as he nibbled her ear. Trixie closed her eyes and rubbed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his hair-roughened chest. She could scarcely wait for them to be back together again.

Chapter Nine.

Seraphim awoke to a pair of dark blue eyes staring into his. Those eyes seemed to observe everything yet betray little of himself. A fine trait for a vampire, particularly one as young as Adam Lindsay, the First Father. Not the evil Original of Atlantis, but the Immaculate child who now headed the Network. Unlike so many vampires of his age, Seraphim found no shame in admitting his admiration for Lindsay and his twin, Matthew Winter. They were child prodigies, and their souls were good. That in itself was enough to command respect.

"I'd ask how you feel, but I can imagine," Adam said. "As soon as Matthew arrives, we'll take care of you."

Seraphim nodded. He vaguely remembered Jules saying the twins were going to a.s.sist in his surgery. His injuries were more extensive than he'd imagined. He felt deadly weak-a feeling he remembered all too well from various points in his past.

"We need to talk," Seraphim said.

Adam nodded. "It can wait until you're stronger."

"This can't wait. I need a favor."

"A favor?" The First Father raised one of his dark eyebrows. "With the accusations against you, you're asking for favors?"

"This isn't for me. It's for a mortal woman at Sir Edward's." "Hannah. Vincent told me about her being blackmailed."

"I need you to ensure her family is freed from danger. I need you to get her out of that house." Seraphim paused a moment, trying not to let weariness seep into his voice. "If you do, I'll provide information you'll find most interesting."

"So Vincent was right. You have been holding out on the Network."

"If you promise Hannah and her family will be safe, I'll tell you my reasons for everything."

"You've been keeping information from us regarding this case and G.o.d knows what else. Reasons mean little."

Seraphim held Adam's eyes. "Reasons mean everything. Don't judge without hearing me."

Adam sat back in his chair, his eyes holding Seraphim's. Adam was one of the few people in the world who could match the ancient vampire's stare without flinching. "I'm going to help her. That's beside the point. You have to realize you're in no position to bargain for anything."

"Aren't I?"

As Adam's mind probed his, he might have smiled had he felt better. The boy was no match for his mental barriers, nor were any members of the Jury. Still, none of them had any way of knowing his powers or his secrets.

The deeper Adam probed, the further Seraphim sank into himself. He would die before revealing all-but not before Hannah's safety was guaranteed.

"Seraphim!" Adam's voice sounded sharp, and he sensed both the First Father and Jules hovering over him.

Opening his eyes was more difficult than the last time.

"You're a doctor, Adam," Jules snapped. "You should know better than to question him right now."

"I'm sorry, but I had to know something," Adam stated, his eyes on Seraphim's. "You'd die before revealing what you know?"

"Realize I do have something to bargain with."

"Just rest."

"Hannah -"

"I told you I'd help her. I'll a.s.sign Brett and Mercedes to her family right away."

"Your parents?" Seraphim said. Though hybrids, the twins' parents were two of the Network's best. "Thank you."

Adam nodded and, followed by Jules, left the room.

When Seraphim next awoke, he felt far stronger and the fiery pain of platinum wounds had faded. The man standing over him was Adam's identical twin, except he was smooth shaven where the First Father was bearded and Matthew's long, dark hair had turned silver gray at the temples. Still, even if the twins didn't purposely choose some differences in appearance, Seraphim would have been able to tell them apart by their eyes alone. Though both were dark blue and possessed expressions of strength and integrity, Matthew's reflected his emotions with stunning clarity whereas Adam kept his carefully disguised. Matthew was the super genius-the brilliant well known and respected hematologist and the rebel. Matthew Winter followed his heart, even when it meant destroying himself. Seraphim could identify with him, perhaps too much. Aside from Hannah, he was probably the only person to whom Seraphim had ever considered revealing his true self.

"Feeling better?" Matthew asked.

"Yes." Seraphim tried to move, but Matthew's hand fell on his shoulder.

"Sit still for a while. Want a rundown of what we had to do to you?"

Seraphim guessed that regardless of what he said, Matthew would launch into a detailed report. He sat quietly as the doctor spoke. From the sound of it, Seraphim was lucky to be alive. All from one lousy shot.

"The Jury has been questioning the two men who were left alive after your fight," Matthew said. "I haven't gotten any details yet, but from what I know they were looking for something to do with the Originals. Artifacts, perhaps. Care to give me any details?"

"I told Adam I'd give the Jury a statement."

Matthew dragged a chair to Seraphim's bedside and straddled it backwards. "I know, but Jules and I agree that you can't undergo questioning for at least a week. I don't pretend to know you better than anybody else. You reveal very little about yourself. Adam and the Jury accepted that when you were initiated into the Network."

"You still haven't joined."

"I will never join the Network, but don't try to change the subject. I've felt your psychic power, Seraphim. I know you're a better warlock than I can ever hope to be. This makes you a force to be reckoned with, but it also isolates you."

"Isolation is a gift as well as a curse."

"In this case I think it's the latter. You almost got yourself killed, and according to Jules it isn't the first time. You have to let someone in, Seraphim. Adam will help you if you let him. I'll help you, but you can't -"

"I said I'd reveal all you need to know."

"I understand how you must feel. My experiences with the Jury have been unsettling, but in recent times reforms have been made, and -"

"You're not part of the Network, but can you be there when I'm questioned?" "That's not normal procedure, but I'll see if they'll make an exception." Seraphim nodded, changing his position. Already he was sick of lying in bed.

"You're going to need at least a week of rest, you know," Matthew said, as if reading his mind. Perhaps he had. The young warlock was one of the best Seraphim had ever seen. "Seraphim, once your a.s.signment is over, would you considering taking on an apprentice?"

"For what?"

"What do you think? I'd like you to train me in magic."

"You've come a long way without me. Go on as you have been."

"I haven't had a proper teacher since Gareth died."

"Why me?"

"You're the best I've seen, and I trust you."

Seraphim held Matthew's eyes. The thought of training him was appealing, but impossible. Not with a man of Matthew's potential. "I'm sorry, Matthew, but I can't train you."

"Can't or won't?"

"My skills are my own to pa.s.s on or not. I won't explain my actions," Seraphim stated, and thought to himself, Even to the man who just flew across the country to save your life, you selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"That's true enough. Do you want to know what I think?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"I thought not." A slight smile played around Seraphim's mouth.

"I think you're afraid to take on a student because that would mean allowing someone inside your mind. You can't stand the thought of it, can you? Having someone know you so intimately?"

Seraphim's jaw tightened and he stared hard into Matthew's eyes. "Thank you for all you've done for me, Dr. Winter."