Hannah sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Sometimes this is all too much."

He slid closer to her, took her in his arms, and kissed her. "I know it's a lot, and there's so much more for you to know, but not now."

"When?"

"Hannah, I have to tell you some things. Not all of it will be easy to hear or to understand. If at any time you change you mind about me being the one to change you "Nothing will change my mind."

"I wasn't really a guest at Sir Edwards'-at least not for the reason you probably think. I was there on business."

"I know all about you being a spy."

"Spy?" Seraphim's eyes narrowed. How did she know? He was certain he'd never consciously told her. Perhaps during the times they'd shared thoughts he hadn't been as careful as should have been.

"Katrina."

"Ah." Seraphim nodded. "She told you about my job?"

"Yes."

"Did she also tell you she and Vikenti are agents as well?"

"No." Hannah's eyes widened.

"Their real names are Trixie and Vincent. They're also undercover."

"Should you be telling me this?"

"No, but you're part of this now. They don't realize it yet, but when I go on trial on Friday, you'll be present, and when the Network a.s.sists me in what I must do, you will come, too."

"Trial?" She looked panicked. "What trial?"

He spent the next few moments informing her about the Network and the case surrounding the Flower which he was pretending to be part of. He told her of the Originals and his role as their protector, and he discussed his plan of confessing everything at his trial.

"Seraphim," her hand tightened on his, "if this Network is as greedy for knowledge as you say, what makes you think they'll help you?"

"They will listen to me."

"But how can you be sure? They could just as easily hold the Originals prisoner to gain the knowledge they want. And why haven't the Originals wanted their presence to be known? What are they hiding? You say they love you, but look what they've put you through -"

"It's been my choice," he said, almost harshly. Then sighed, drawing her close. "They have their reasons. If all they know fell to the wrong hands-It's complex. They need to go back where they belong, Hannah, and the time is at hand. It's just gotten so much more difficult to protect them because there are vampires who sense something about where they've been hiding. If I can hold them off just a little longer-but I need help. That's why I'm going to the Jury."

"Seraphim," she murmured. He sensed her turmoil and hardened himself to what might come.

"If you've changed your mind, you can go. I would have to wipe your memories of me and what I've told you, but -"

"No." She pushed away, her eyes narrowed in anger. "First of all, I want to be with you, and second of all, don't even think about messing with my head like that! It's not for you to decide what memories I keep!"

"It would be as much to protect you as it would be to protect Them."

"You've let me in." She placed her hand to his cheek. "You've trusted me. Don't be afraid and pull away. Not now."

Her words struck his heart like a platinum stake. She was right. He had been afraid for too long of allowing someone to share his burden-and his gifts. Hannah had changed him, and now more than ever, he realized he would do whatever it took-no matter what the risk-to ensure the Jury helped him fulfill his destiny.

Once the bath salt was prepared, he filled the tub and began undressing. "Hannah! Time for the bath."

She slipped her arms around him from behind, her naked curves pressed to his back, and whispered, "I'm ready."

He turned, caressing her shoulders, his eyes fixed on hers. "You are so beautiful. I love you so much, Hannah."

"I love you, too, Seraphim."

She stood on tiptoe as he kissed her while he finished unb.u.t.toning his shirt. He shrugged it off, then unzipped his jeans and draped both on a hook behind the bathroom door.

Taking her hand, they stepped into the tub and sank beneath the warm, fragrant water.

"I love this," Hannah said, lying beside Seraphim and resting her cheek against his shoulder. Her knee settled against his stomach, her toes caressing his legs as her eyes slipped shut.

Seraphim squeezed her closer. "I'm just glad this hotel has big tubs." Raising her head, she laughed, a giddy adorable sound he loved.

"Let me wash you." He sat up and took a cake of soap, running it over her shoulders and back. Tugging her between his legs, he felt his c.o.c.k stir at the first touch of her satiny b.u.t.tocks. He soaped her waist and ribs, then cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. As he ma.s.saged, smooth suds covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Her nipples hardened beneath the gentle motion of his thumbs, and he shifted uncomfortably, the urge to devour her then and there almost painful.

"Now you." Grinning, she took the soap and turned to rub the scented bar over his chest. She ma.s.saged, the friction of her hands on his hair-roughened chest making the suds thick. The feeling was wonderful, and he momentarily closed his eyes and leaned back as she continued washing his arms and shoulders. She raised his arms above his head and soaped his armpits.

"Smell that bad, do I?" he couldn't keep the smirk from his lips.

"You have the most beautiful underarms." She giggled.

He opened one eye and stared at her in question.

"It's true. A man can't really be handsome unless he has beautiful underarms."

"Is that a fact?"

"At least in my opinion."

"And what, may I ask, makes an underarm beautiful?"

She washed away soap from under his left arm and he resisted the urge to laugh and jerk away. d.a.m.n. He hated being ticklish.

"The shape of them. Look how yours blend perfectly with the surrounding muscles? And there's just enough hair to be s.e.xy without looking like you have eagles nesting in it."

This time he did laugh. "Thanks. I think." "You don't think underarms are nice? Really?"

He grasped her waist and pulled her on top of him, raising her arms above her head and kissing her smooth, pale-skinned armpits. "Now that you mention it, yours are gorgeous."

She looked pleased. "Thank you. I try to keep them nice."

Seraphim smiled, drawing her close for a kiss. "We need to finish this bath and get to Jules' office. Matthew will be waiting for us."

She nodded, and he heard her heartbeat quicken. It was natural for her to be nervous. He wished he could relieve some of her fear. It wouldn't be easy, considering he had his own set of anxieties to deal with.

They rinsed off, and as he went to drain the tub, she slipped into his arms. "Don't you want to.. .you know?"

He shook his head and kissed her lips. "We need to save all our pa.s.sion for tonight." Hannah nodded.

Seraphim and Hannah stood side by side as Matthew closed the door, leaving them in the "bedroom" in Jules' office.

"Well, this is it." Hannah sighed, unb.u.t.toning her coat. She hadn't let him see what she wore under it. She said it was a surprise.

He watched as she tossed aside the long, black coat, revealing a delicate black teddy of satin and lace. She'd worn her hair up, soft tendrils cascading over her shoulders. To him, she looked good enough to eat-in every sense of the word.

Still, when he thought of making love with her, of taking her beyond mortality in some fancy laboratory while another man waited in the next room, his desire waned.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Oh nothing." He took a step closer and drew her into his arms. Her soft, moist lips opened beneath his, and he tasted her delicious little tongue.

She pressed closer, her fingers threading his hair. Finally she stepped back. "What is it, Seraphim?"

"I don't think I can do this." He paced the room, his hands clenched behind his back. "Why? Don't you want me?"

"Of course I want you." He paused in front of her, stroking her face. "I just feel like we're on display. I mean, this is like conceiving a child in a hospital room."

Hannah took her lower lip between her teeth, her brow furrowing. "I hadn't thought about it like that."

"Well that's what it is."

"You're the one who wanted to do it here for my safety, now you're losing it on me! Seraphim! Do you want to go back to the hotel?"

"And risk your life? Are you crazy?"

"Then forget about Dr. Winter in the next room. I'm sure he couldn't care less what we're doing-unless I start to croak, that is."

"You're not going to croak."

"All right." She sighed, tugging away from him and reaching for her coat. "There's no point in us..."

He stepped behind her, so close her back touched his chest. His hands covered hers and gently forced her to release the coat. His lips caressed her neck, the tip of his tongue tracing the tendons.

"I won't let you go, Hannah," he whispered. "You're right. At this moment, nothing matters but us."

Seraphim had once waited too long for the ultimate declaration of his love. He'd spent centuries regretting it, and had no intention of making the same mistake with Hannah.

"Oh, Seraphim," she murmured, leaning against him and allowing him to sweep her into his arms. He placed her on the bed and kissed her mouth while his fingers deftly unfastened her teddy and placed the delicate garment aside. His lips traveled over her shoulders, b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and belly, pausing at the thong just covering her delectable secrets. His mouth covered her c.l.i.t. His tongue moistened the thin fabric, and he caressed her through the wet satin patch until she moaned.

His fangs slipped from their flesh sheaths, and he tore off the thong, dropping it aside so he could lick her c.l.i.t and p.u.s.s.y.

"Oh, Seraphim," she moaned, her fingers clutching his hair. He growled in reply, the tip of his tongue tracing her plump little c.l.i.t while his palms ma.s.saged her inner thighs.

He left her hovering on the brink of o.r.g.a.s.m as he stood and quickly discarded his clothes. He retrieved a small wooden box in which he'd carried the ritual supplies. Hannah watched him through half closed eyes, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rising and falling with her excited breathing. First he lit incense, then two white candles and one of blood red.

He picked up his ritual knife, as long as his hand from his wrist to the tip of his middle finger. It was old and well cared for. One of his most prized possessions-a gift from the Originals, made from a metal of their home world, which explained the knife's almost flawless appearance even after so many millennia.

After uttering a prayer of thanks to the spirit world, he returned to the bed and stretched out beside Hannah. Her eyes fixed on the knife.

"There will be an exchange of blood," he told her, brushing wisps of hair from her forehead. "What I take from you, I'll give back. It's an exact exchange, done over a period of time while we make love."

"What will it feel like?"

"I've heard it's very pleasurable. I know when vampires drink from each other in an affectionate setting, there's no greater pleasure. Are you ready?"

"Just one question."

"Anything."

Her hand touched his-the one holding the knife. "Is that for me?"

He smiled gently. "No, my love, that's for me."

"Oh. Well, is this going to hurt you? "

In reply, he kissed her. Truthfully, there would be slight discomfort, and though he didn't want to lie to her, he hesitated to tell her the complete truth, since the pleasure would be far greater than any pain he'd feel. Not that he would be able to hide anything from her within the next moments.

"The Originals rarely communicated with a verbal language," he explained. "To complete the ritual, before we start the change, I'll chant, but only in thought. Look in my eyes."

Hannah's lovely eyes fixed on his. She blinked, and he sensed her initial discomfort as their thoughts joined.

I love you, Hannah, he told her. Don't be afraid. Vm not, she replied, clearly as if she'd spoken.

He smiled. Though the ritual words were in the language of the Originals, he knew she understood them perfectly. It was strange, but in thoughts, there were no language barriers between race or species.

Souls are eternal, he began the chant. Dancing between hosts, unending. No time or touch harms them. For that we give thanks.

We give thanks, Hannah repeated.

I join my soul to yours, he said to her. We cannot for eternity be parted. We sacrifice to each other in blood. Never end what we've started.

Never end what we've started, came her refrain. Their minds mingled as did their bodies, each expressing total love for the other.

Knife still in his hand, Seraphim kissed her stomach and inner thighs before licking and sucking her c.l.i.t. Any waning pa.s.sion Hannah had felt soared back to its original height as he tasted the soft folds of flesh and laved the swollen nub. His tongue thrust into her heated p.u.s.s.y, and he knew by the sound of her breathing when she was at the edge.

Sliding up her body, he eased into her. The entry of his enormous c.o.c.k was enough to send her into a fit of pa.s.sion. She moaned and clutched his shoulders as ripples of o.r.g.a.s.m tightened around his c.o.c.k. Seraphim's teeth sank into her neck and his tongue lapped her sweet, intoxicating blood until her o.r.g.a.s.m waned. With her wet p.u.s.s.y still enfolding his c.o.c.k, he used the ritual knife to nick his own throat. The initial cut hurt a bit-nothing compared to a platinum bullet, though.

Hannah's eyes fixed on the blood drizzling down his neck.

"Lick it," he urged, gently cupping the back of her head with his hand and pressing her lips to the wound. "Not too much this time, or you'll get sick. You're still human."