Chapter Sixteen.

Fleur was actually sitting on the doorstep of his apartment when Dain got home. "h.e.l.lo," she said. Then she tilted her head and frowned. "You've barely slept. Is it because of me?" Dain had to crack a smile, weary as he was. Because of her? Not in the way she meant, "It's been a rough week. Look, I'm just spent. I don't want to argue."

She chewed on her lower lip, her fang peeking out. "I'm not here to argue. First, I want to apologize."

"Forget it. It wasn't you. I should've known better."

Fleur frowned. "That's a load of c.r.a.p and you know it. I'm the one who lost it."

He got the door open and held it for her. "Can I get you something to drink? I haven't had anything all

day. I'm so d.a.m.n dehydrated."

"Let me get it." She stopped him by taking his hand. It so surprised him that he just stopped and stared.

She gave his hand a little tug. "Come on. I'll just put you down on the sofa. Don't worry." She led him to the sofa and pushed him down into it. "Beer? Water? Wine?" "Beer." Dain watched her strip off her gloves and lay them carefully along the arm of the sofa. "Well, this is nice," he said. He lifted his feet up and stretched out. "You don't have any pictures." "What?" "Of family. You don't have family?"

"Nah."

"I'm sorry."

Her sympathy made him uncomfortable. "Don't worry. I don't have some dark, tormented story about how they died and I never got over it."

"Then what is your story?"

"They died. And I got over it."

She studied his face.

"What?" he asked. "Your mother and father are both dead. Killed in the first battle between the species as 1 remember. So, you know how it is, right?"

She stared at him a moment longer. "Right. They died. I got over it," she echoed.

"Hmm. I don't think so." The quick flush of her cheeks was all the confirmation he needed. She seriously had to work on her poker face.

"Of course I didn't get over it. Who would? You're not over Serena, are you?"

Dain didn't answer.

Fleur shrugged. "It's a shock whenever one of us actually dies, because it's always so sudden, so violent. The story goes that my mother and father went out in tandem to handle a skirmish between humans and vampires in the Venice area. It turns out your side was trying to set up some kind of sh.o.r.eline system to disrupt our shipping activities. Obviously, we took umbrage at the idea and... I'm sure your history books tell you the rest. I don't know what technology or weapon killed them, but they never came back. We lost many, many people that day. As did you humans." Fleur looked down at her hands, the sweep of her lashes concealing her eyes. "And my parents were just... gone."

"Gone?" Dain asked gently.

"After death, for us-well, we decay very quickly. As you know. The water and the dust... there's nothing physical left to mourn. It was tough to believe they were gone." She looked him straight in the eye. "In a strange way, I suppose it's not much different than trying to recall someone from just a photograph."

"What? Serena? I don't remember her," he leaned forward and whispered. "I don't remember my wife. I try. I swear to G.o.d, I try."

"I think it's all right, you know. The mind was made to forget. It's... nature."

Dain didn't know why, but she was giving him permission to forget. Maybe she wanted him to forget. A bad idea, either way. He cleared his throat. "So, your parents died in that battle, your half-brothers took the reins... and now, we end up with you. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you weren't expecting to take the lineage so soon."

"Obviously, I couldn't have predicted the a.s.sa.s.sination."

"Obviously," he repeated, though his tone implied something of an accusation.

"I'm not as green as you think. There's more to this than just street smarts. Otherwise, the wolves

wouldn't be the ones living in the gutter."

"Some of those gutter complexes are nicer than my apartment."

She rewarded him with a sliver of a smile. "I believe you."

He had to laugh.

"Look, I really came here to apologize. About not telling you I'd never really seen the dogs before. One

could say that was a lie of omission. I'm sorry about that. It was business, if you know what I mean. I

had to-" "I would have done the same thing in your position," he interrupted with a shrug. "Now, I've come to a conclusion."

"Oh?" "Everyone's denying responsibility for directing that mech in killing your brothers, and it never reported back. We're denying it, the dogs are denying it, you're denying it. Which means... somebody's lying." She handed him a beer and sat down across from him, the coffee table positioned between them like some sort of chaperone. "Well, you obviously believe that it was an inside job. You haven't even ruled me out as part of a coup attempt." He shook his head. "I can't rule you out based on solid evidence, but I don't think you're lying." She looked shocked. "You're telling me you believe me?" "Yeah." "Then, why are your bosses treating us like we're the ones who've done something wrong?" Dain studied her face. "You've seen the PDI. I tried to tell them it was the wrong thing to do, but the boss has it in mind that our danger level is going up. He believes you vampires are ready to go on the offensive."

"But someone sent that mech at us!"

Dain raised his hands. "I know. I only wish I had the pull to do something about it, but I'm afraid I'm just a cog in the machine." He pointed his beer bottle at Fleur. "You, on the other hand, can work a little diplomatic magic."

She looked grim.

"Hey, you look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders," he joked. He grinned. "It's just one city."

She still didn't smile. "I don't think you understand. I do have the weight of the world on my shoulders. My world, anyway. Because of my lineage. If I fail, if responsibility is transferred to someone else, I will have let down my entire family. I will be shamed. My family will be shamed. It happened once before when..." She broke off suddenly, looking cold.

He tried to see her thoughts but couldn't. She focused on something in the distance, worked hard at preventing him from reading the emotion in her face, and ultimately was successful. "You really have no concept of what's at stake for me, do you?" she asked. "Sometimes I think you just see this all as some sort of amus.e.m.e.nt."

"That is not true," he argued. "I think it is. For thousands of years the Dumonts have held power in the vampire world. Thousands of years. And through each war, each wave of battle, we've been whittled down. There've been fewer and fewer of us. My mother was the last of a long line." "You said your mother was the last. Except for you." "Yes. Me. The failure. I... didn't take over when she died. My half-brothers took charge, and with good reason. I wasn't ready. But I am ready now, though they didn't train me. I am ready to step up and do my part. And I'm trying my best. If I do not step forward-if I do not help save us all, I will have made a joke of my heritage and failed my people. The history books will close on us forever. And I will be forced to live with that failure on my shoulders."

Dain slowly nodded. "I can't honestly say I understand. Not in the way you do. I've never had those sort of family ties." He shrugged. "And I've never felt so important to my people."

"Family ties." Fleur looked nervous. "Except for Cyd Brighton... are you with Cyd?"

"What? Well, she's my partner, so, yeah, I'm 'with' her."

Fleur gazed at him, intent. "She's not your lover?"

"Cyd? Oh, G.o.d, no. No, she's..." He sighed and threw up his hands. "I guess she's just about everything else. Friend, partner, sister." He shrugged. "Well, I guess if I really thought about what it meant to be family, she'd be it."

Fleur nodded and played with a trinket on the table. "You realize she can't stand me."

"She's not supposed to be able to stand you. Neither of us are."

Fleur laughed. "That's right. I remember. 'Field operatives are to cultivate a careful understanding of

members of differing species, but nothing more than that, lest it compromise their integrity.'"

Dain's eyebrows flew up. "You have a copy of our training manual."

She shot him an impatient look, still half-laughing. "Obviously. As you do ours."

He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I don't always follow the manual. I find it

makes things very predictable."

"Predictable. Don't you think there might be a good reason for those rules?" Fleur asked. She leaned closer. "Don't you ever fear making yourself too vulnerable around me?" She reached out and tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck.

"Maybe I like the fear," he said.

"1 hope it's not because you underestimate me."

"Oh, it isn't. And I don't."

Their lips almost touched, and Dain almost cracked. What screwed you up wasn't what you did when you couldn't stop yourself; it was what you did when you could stop yourself and chose not to. Dain fought the urge to take Fleur in his arms, carry her into the bedroom and throw her on his bed. He could visualize it all in his mind and the thought made him almost desperate with want. Instead, he pulled slowly away and stood up. "I think I need you to get out of here."

Fleur nodded after a moment. "Probably best," she agreed.

She didn't look like she thought it was best. But the bottom line was that any potential relationship was pretty much doomed between a human and a vampire. Unless the human wanted to make the change. Dain knew of humans who'd pet.i.tioned to become vampire, likely seduced by the prospect of riches. But from what he'd seen, living with forever could hurt worse than dying.

Chapter Seventeen.

Dain glanced at his watch. In two hours he needed to file a report. He had some other business to attend to as well, but he decided to stop by Cyd's place first.

She lived even farther off the edge than Dain, not far from where they'd gone underground to meet with her informant. As someone whose regular job involved hobn.o.bbing with the shiftiest of the species-the rebels, the sellouts, the embittered changeovers, and whatever species was most down on its luck-she lived in Old Hollywood, next to slum hotel housing converted from the old Mann's Chinese Theater.

The building wasn't really supposed to exist. It was the kind of place where, if you happened to want to kill someone, you were most likely to get away with it. On her salary, she could have easily lived next door to him, but Dain didn't like to dwell on what Cyd did with her money.

With PDI enacted, the green night-vision bulbs in the lampposts were being used instead of the white lights, and searchlights scoured the sky. If things started to get really bad, they'd switch again to the UV light, rending large swaths of the sky a vampire no-fly zone. Of course, that was the kind of act that went hand in hand with a declaration of war.

In spite of the fact that it was sprinkling out, the black market was in full swing on both sides of the street as Dain made it to Cyd's place and jimmied the lock. The fan was on inside, and dust swirled up in the light rays streaming through the window.

"Cyd? You home?"

No answer. A quick perusal indicated she hadn't gotten around to signing up for Housekeeping 101.

Well, neither had he.

The refrigerator contained a half-empty carton of milk, a six-pack of diet soda, and a jar on which was scrawled, "honey." Dain sighed and took the jar out, opening the lid and sniffing the contents. "Honey, my a.s.s," he muttered.

Dain glanced at his watch and backtracked to the door. Outside, the sprinkle had become rain and the smell of wet and dirty cement filled the air. As he stepped off the landing, there was Cyd, blocking his escape.

"Cyd, I-"

She hauled back and plowed her fist into his gut.

When he again managed to get a full breath, he was kneeling on the wet sidewalk in a serious downpour, being stepped around by pa.s.sersby. Cyd was sitting cross-legged next to him on the ground, looking like a dissatisfied drowned rat. "What was that for?" he managed to ask.

"I thought it might make me feel better."

"Did it, I hope?"