"Eva... it's not the same as what I did. I've lived for four thousand years-that's more life than most get. It was selfish of me to try anything, to do anything in order to keep it."

"It's not wrong to want to live," I said quietly. "Whether you're forty or four thousand."

"Eva." He leaned forward and squeezed my arm. "You will not die. I won't let that happen. But as for me... If I had simply accepted my fate, I would've saved the lives of eleven innocents."

"And Marybeth?" The only daughter of Linda, Stan's not-girlfriend, she had been killed by another lycan hybrid. Lorcan had saved her life by Turning her.

He snapped the book shut. "Do not do an immoral thing for moral reasons!"

"Thomas Hardy," I said. "No evil can happen to a good man, either in life or after death."

"Plato. But... the yoke a man creates for himself by wrong-doing will breed hate in the kindliest nature."

"George Eliot." I pursed my lips, thinking. Then I grinned. "When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before."

"What?"

"Mae West." I looked at Lorcan, wishing I could hold him in my arms and show him he was worthy of forgiveness and of love.

"Here's a little armchair psychology. It's easier to mentally flail yourself and stay away from those you hurt. If you never forgive yourself, you don't have to risk that those you killed won't forgive you."

"You're saying that I'm afraid to face what I did and make peace with it."I nodded.

"I will consider your words," he said.

I could tell by his expression that he meant what he said. I had given him something to chew on, and I was glad. Maybe, just maybe, he could build a real life in a community that would, I was certain, welcome him.

Lorcan leaned forward and tapped Bert's hip. "C'mon, boy. We need to let Eva sleep."

"I'm not tired," I whined. "I want to hear another story. What about Koschei? I'd be interested to know more about my Family."

Bert stood on all fours, shook himself so hard that drool flew everywhere, and jumped off the bed. I wiped off my slimed cheek and laughed. The Great Dane looked at me, pushed the image of a ham bone into my mind, and barked. "He wants a-"

"Ham bone," said Lor. "He has a one-track mind. He'll get one, along with the ham."

"What about the story?" I asked. I didn't want him to go. Being left alone drove me batty. I had everything in the way of entertainment, from the flat-screen TV to PlayStation 3, but I rarely used either. I hadn't thought I'd ever tire of books, but I felt restless and bored every time I picked one up. My skin itched and I felt like a thousand ants marched up and down my body. I tried not to react to the sensations.

"Solas," whispered Lorcan.

Pink, gold, and red orbs glittered into the room. They floated like chubby fairies above me, twinkling and swirling. Delighted, I watched them dance and play. Suddenly I felt better.

"The book will read to you," said Lor. "Close your eyes and listen. And try to rest."

"Okay." I agreed reluctantly, not energetic enough to ask questions about a book that could talk. More sidhe magic from Lor, no doubt.

I yawned again and lay flat, tucking myself more comfortably under the thick quilt. I watched him place the open book on his chair. He pressed his palms to it and muttered. The book glowed.

Leaning down, Lorcan kissed my forehead. I caught his face and put my mouth to his. Warmth and need flooded me instantly, but Lor's kiss was too gentle, too brief. He brought the quilt to my chin and then he turned away. He flicked off the lights, whispered good night, and he and Bert left. I sighed as the door banged shut.

I hate to be alone. Why do they leave me alone?

Clenching my teeth, I shuddered violently. If only I could breathe... if only I could breathe... oh, you don't need to breathe, remember? Slowly, I got hold of myself. Everything's okay, Eva. Just chill out.

My gaze was drawn to the glowing book. As the fairy lights engaged in a whimsical ballet in the soft darkness, Lorcan's brogue filled the room...

I closed my eyes and listened.

Chapter 19

Legends of the Seven Ancients

Koschei the Second

As written by Lorcan, Fill don Tuatha de Danann. It was said that Koschei the Deathless kidnapped women from their beds and killed men with only his stare. Others told of a skeletal man with black hair and wild eyes that stole brides from their husbands on the wedding night. Some said that his soul was hidden inside an egg stored in a chest without a key. And there were those who said that Koschei was merely a ghost, a harbinger of bad luck.

But Koschei was not a ghost, a kidnapper, or a soulless creature.

He was deamhan fola.

After Ruadan the First was banished by his wife, he traveled by boat to a cold and barren place far from the land of Eire. As his nature dictated, he drank the blood of mortal beings. Doing so was arduous because no victim was willing.

Though Ruadan was clever and brave, he was unable to convince mortals that he was not a monster. In every village, he had to lie in wait for the unwary and take his sustenance by force. Soon Ruadan gained a reputation as a strigoi mort-a vampire.

Word about the strigoi mort spread quickly. Villagers and farmers begged their G.o.ds, their wise men, and their healers for protection, but though they laid herbs on their doorsills and curses around their houses, Ruadan was not affected.

Superst.i.tion was not magic; he knew the power, beauty, and truth of real magic.

One night, Ruadan attacked a farmer, who fought so fiercely that Ruadan let him go. Though the vampire fled, the farmer and other terrified villagers chased him relentlessly. Forced to travel deeper and deeper into the craggy, snow- filled mountains, Ruadan subsisted on animal blood and slept in caves.

Three days pa.s.sed. On the fourth evening, he discovered a small village tucked into the mountainside. Cold and hungry, he managed to subdue a young woman long enough to drink what he needed. But she was the favorite wife of a powerful wizard named Koschei. Vowing revenge, Koschei used his magic to track Ruadan down.

Koschei had a more fearsome reputation than even a strigoi mort. He was bone thin and wore only black robes. His hair was long and dark, his eyes hard and green as jade. Through his magic and his psychic abilities, he coaxed food, entertainment, and companionship from other villages. Many people in the region feared Koschei and sent gifts to the dark wizard so that he would not leave his mountain home. And so Koschei had all that he needed to live a comfortable life, including many wives, concubines, and children.

Ruadan was surprised to find himself at the mercy of a mere mortal. Koschei's most powerful gift was the ability to glamour. Within moments, Koschei compelled Ruadan to tell all his secrets.

After hearing his enemy's stones, Koschei revealed his own secret: He was dying. He told Ruadan that he feared that his village and his family were in jeopardy, that if he died, rival peoples would attack.

"They will not fear me as a ghost," he said. "I will make a pact with you, demon. Give me immortal life and I will teach you my magic. I will show you how to draw a human to you, to drink, and to make him forget."

Ruadan agreed, though he warned Koschei that becoming a deamhan fola was a terrible risk. "I've never made another," he said, "and this may end your life that much sooner."

But Koschei was determined to become immortal. They agreed that he would teach Ruadan the magic first, in case the transformation failed.

The bargain struck, Koschei spent every evening with Ruadan showing him the ways of the mind. He showed Ruadan how to alter his voice and how to create illusions. "People believe so easily," he said. "Show them what they expect and they will not question you."

After thirty days had pa.s.sed, Ruadan had learned all that he could from the wizard. On the thirty-first day, Koschei said, "It is time for you to keep your promise."

Ruadan drained his new friend of all his blood. When Koschei breathed his last, Ruadan tore open his own wrist and pressed the bleeding wound against the man's pale lips. His magicked blood flowed into the body of Koschei and soon the wizard awoke-as deamhan fola.

Koschei easily learned all the ways of the deamhan fola. Ruadan was pleased by the kindness of his friend and knew that Koschei would continue to bless those under his care.

Yet Ruadan was a restless soul and he wished to resume his travels. The night before Ruadan's parting, a great celebration was held. Dancing, drinking, and feasting went on through the night.

In the wee hours, as everyone fell into drunken sleep, the village was savagely attacked.

Though Ruadan and Koschei combined their powers to fight the unknown invaders, nearly all of the villagers were slain and the buildings burned. Koschei tried to Turn his sons, his daughters, his favorite wives, but it seemed none could survive the change.

"Help me," begged Koschei. "Save my children. Save my beloved wives."

But even Ruadan's attempts at Turning them failed. All of Koschei's wives died. One son and two daughters barely lived; Ruadan and Koschei escaped with them deep into the mountains. Koschei led them to a cave where he often stayed when hunting and they made the mortal survivors comfortable.

Koschei's son had seen only ten winters. His daughter Ina was barely seventeen. Tritsu was nearly twenty, already married with daughters of her own.

All but these five souls perished that terrible night.

Koschei's grief could not be contained. He begged Ruadan to turn his children into deamhan fola.

"Would you curse your son? He is but a boy. If you Turn him now, he will grow into manhood only in mind," said Ruadan.

Tritsu pleaded to die. She couldn't bear the thought of living without her children and her husband. Koschei held her hand and wept. "You will join your loved ones. This I promise, my daughter."

As Koschei held death vigils over his son and his elder daughter, Ruadan tended the pretty Ina. As the dawn crept over the mountains, two mortals pa.s.sed into the next realm and three survivors sought rest in the dank darkness of the cave.

The next evening, Koschei continued his vigil over the ailing Ina while Ruadan returned to the village. He buried the dead and burned everything else to the ground. He bespelled the area so that neither human nor beast would enter what had once been a happy place.

After the work was done and the spells cast, Ruadan returned to the cave.

Koschei was readying to leave. He knew of a powerful healer in another village. "I will take Ina to her and pray that my daughter lives."

That evening, Ruadan and Koschei parted ways.Another deamhan fola walked the earth.

Koschei the Second.

Koschei the Deathless.

Chapter 20

I awoke outside the mansion. I was dressed in pajamas and bunny slippers, shuffling along the driveway like a zombie.

It was pitch-black. Storm clouds scudded across the moon, blanking out even the stars. The night was eerily quiet. I thought of that scene from Dean Koontz's Watchers when a man alone in the woods is attacked by a vicious, unknown animal. It felt like that kind of hush, right before the creature emerged, menacing and snarling.

I turned toward the house. I had no idea how I'd gotten out. Or what I was doing trying to escape. I just wanted to get inside. If I could get inside, I would be safe.

I heard the soft growls and the patter of feet behind me. Within seconds, my arms were imprisoned by large, furry hands.

"Let me go!"

The vamp/lycans snarled and whirled around, dragging me down the driveway.

Stop! Now!

They stopped.

Fear knotted my throat and my stomach churned. Was Patrick right? Were my powers stronger than I had believed?

Let me go.

They dropped me. I landed on hands and knees. Shaking badly, I scrambled to my feet and turned to look at them. They returned my stare, but didn't move toward me.

Who are you?

We are no one.

"Eva!" Jessica, Patrick, Damian, and several others ran down the drive. Jessica held her swords at the ready. My world was spinning. I tried to stay upright, but I fell to my knees.

What do you want?

We want nothing.

Even though I felt like retching, I pushed into their minds and found them... empty. Someone had scooped out their memories, their thoughts, and their wills. And whoever had done that had also implanted these answers.

Where is your master?

We have no master.