Both Dusty and Jule responded with smiley faces.

B on in a sec.

"Han, until I let you go back to war, you'll be her bodyguard. She knows Jake. If he doesn't drive her as crazy as he does me, divvy up shifts with him," he said. "She's gonna have a rough time ahead of her."

"Most Naturals get a little more notice before transforming. I think she's already started?"

"Yeah, and she knows s.h.i.t about us or what she is."

Han nodded. Damian felt the unusual urge to look in on her again, to feel her soft skin against him once more and make sure she was safe. Shaking his head, he retreated to his office.

"Either of you know anything about oracles?" he asked as he picked up the headphone-mic combo.

f.u.c.k no.

"Nope," Jule seconded. "We were just discussing HQ. You having any issues?"

"You mean, like an influx of vamps to Tucson?"

Bingo.

"Yeah. If Dusty doesn't object, I might reorganize the southwest sectors. Something is up."

Do whatever you want. You always do.

"d.a.m.n, Dusty, you're a jacka.s.s today," Jule said, amused. "You sure you don't have a woman plaguing you?"

Damian smiled, waiting for Dusty's response. He could guess what Dusty was p.i.s.sed about, and it didn't have anything to do with him rearranging his sectors.

Today's my birthday, d.i.c.k. You forgot again.

"Oooooooohhh," Jule breathed. "Another birthday? Not sure why you'd count at this point."

"I remembered," Damian said promptly. "You'd think after oh, a few thousand years, you'd remember, Jule."

"I'm sorry, bro. I owe you one," Jule said, chagrined.

No, you owe me about thirty. Thousand. It's not every day your BFF turns 300K.

"I forgot you're still a baby. I pa.s.sed that mark a few hundred thousand years ago. I'll send you this video game I'm addicted to," Jule offered. "You might like it."

If you love me, you'll send me the blu-ray versions of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour.

"Ah, my love, your wish is my command."

Damian chuckled. At more than double both their ages, Jule was as old as the Watchers, exiled to earth after p.i.s.sing off someone somewhere just before the Schism. He'd never said why, and Damian didn't ask.

"You happy, Dust-man?" he asked.

Yes.

Han knocked, and he looked up.

"Rainy from the Tucson Sector is here. They're having issues," Han said.

"Gotta go, boys," he said. "We'll chat tomorrow."

He pulled off the headphone-mic combo and rose. Ruling an empire wasn't getting any easier; he rarely had a minute to himself anymore.

"Let's go."

CHAPTER FOUR.

Northern Virgina, The Black G.o.d's summer retreat Two rolled from his place on the concrete floor in the corner and unwrapped the ratty blanket he used to keep himself warm. His skin was cold to the touch; his breath hung in the air as he moved. His master didn't believe a slave deserved heat. He dressed himself mechanically and deliberately, hiding away the scarred body his master hated. Every day he awoke wondering what happened to him, but he remembered nothing beyond waking up the day before. The scars covering him from head to toe were from more than his master's beatings. They were too deep and knotted to be from the daggers or the whip or the hand strikes of his master and his master's men.

Pants, socks, shoes. T-shirt, sweater, gloves. He made a rhyme out of the process, though he'd forgotten it again this morning. He put on his hood last and tucked its edges into his sweater. Above all, his master hated his scarred face. He flew into an abusive rage when he saw it.

He left the bas.e.m.e.nt and entered the heated first floor. It was time for his master's breakfast, so he went to the kitchens to fetch his food. The cook was afraid of him and left everything in one corner. He took his bread and canteen of water the morning sustenance for a slave - and tucked them into a cargo pocket. He lifted his master's tray. It held breakfast for two, and he racked his mind for who the other was. He couldn't remember - he never did.

He climbed the steps to his master's chamber and knocked.

"Come in, Two," his master replied.

He obeyed. The air of the dark bedroom smelled of s.e.x and blood. He opened the windows, which did little to shed light into the stone room with its masculine, black decor.

"It's so creepy," a woman's voice complained.

He recognized it. When he turned to place their breakfast on the table near the patio, he thought he recognized her. Maybe when she came in. He must have seen her then. His master said a slave didn't need to remember anything but his master, and he didn't try too hard to remember her.

His master emerged from the bed, naked. His hair was silver, his body broad-shouldered and muscular. His visitor wore a t-shirt and had hair the color of last night's sunset.

"I don't know why you bother with it," she said in disdain, looking at him the way his master did.

"Your breakfast is served," Two said automatically.

"I see that, you f.u.c.king idiot," his master said and slapped him.

Two took his place in the corner, where he stood all day, no matter which room his master was in, in case his master needed him.

"Now that you're here, my lovely Claire, you can help me nail that son of a b.i.t.c.h for good," his master said.

"Anything for you," she said.

They looked at each other. His master looked to make sure he was in his corner, then pulled off the visitor's clothing. Two looked without seeing.

"I want him to watch" his master said "while I f.u.c.k you every way I know how."

His woman laughed huskily and approached Two naked. Her body was beautiful, curvy, with large b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He thought he remembered seeing her naked before, maybe when she arrived last night. He didn't know for sure.

"This is for you," she said then returned to his master.

Two watched them tumble into bed and f.u.c.k for hours, wondered why it seemed familiar, then decided master was right slaves were too stupid to remember.

The monster in the corner of her mind was a man, shrouded in darkness. He wasn't a vision - this much she knew. She heard him even when she was awake, and his crying made her head pulse, as if he were trying to pry his way into her unwilling mind.

"You're still p.i.s.sed at me?" Jake asked.

She focused on flipping through a magazine. The mansion's heavy drapes on the ground floor were closed and the lighting in the library dim enough for her to tolerate. She'd roamed the ground floor before adopting the library as her favorite room and settling in front of a deadened hearth with a stack of celebrity magazines.

"I brought you here, didn't I?" he tried again.

She gave him a withering look, wondering what crack he was smoking to think he did her any favor by bringing her here instead of to a hospital.

"Come on, Sofi, I'm trying to help you."

"Ok fine," she said, tossing the magazine. "Tell me where I am, why I'm here, and what's wrong with me."

"I can't."

"Then leave me alone."

Han chuckled from his position near the window. He was pretending to read a book, though she suspected he'd been emplaced as her bodyguard. He'd followed her all around the house earlier like a bored puppy.

"Han, you following me to the bathroom, too?" she challenged, standing.

He snorted. He remained in the same spot until she returned. So did her lying, cheating b.a.s.t.a.r.d of an ex boyfriend. If she could slap him, she would.

"You're in Arizona," Jake said as she resumed her defensive position in the library's most comfortable chair. "This is one of D's compounds. It's where we come to ... be safe."

"Who is we? Safe from what?"

"You've always had this problem," he said, standing. "You're stubborn, suspicious of everyone, and you ask so many d.a.m.n stupid questions."

"I have every justification to be suspicious of you, Jake."

"Here we go again. Maybe if you didn't suffocate me, I -"

"Suffocate? You sleezeball! You couldn't keep your hands off -"

"You two know each other?" Han asked, lowering his book.

"Unfortunately," she snapped.

"Hey, now, I did bring you here and try to help you," Jake pointed out.

He was right, but she didn't want him to know she knew it. She'd long since forgiven him for cheating on her. They'd dated only for a couple of months, and she knew he wasn't right for her the first date. But he was so handsome, and she so amazed he wanted to go out with her that she ignored her instincts.

"And it didn't last."

He rolled his eyes at her.

"You're a pain in the a.s.s," he said with no heat.

She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Jake," she said. "I don't hold our past against you at all. I'm just ... really frustrated right now."

"I'm a target of opportunity," he said. "I know. It's ok, really. I just wish you'd trust me. I'd never hurt you, Sofi, and I hope you know that and can trust me enough to know you need to be here."

She nodded and chewed her lip.

"Our past," Han mulled. "Anyone care to share?"

Jake ignored him, and she shook her head. Her gaze turned to the curtain, where not even a lost sunbeam could enter the room. Struck by longing, she gave a soulful sigh.

"Can I ever go outside again during daylight?" she asked.

"Yeah, after the transformation is complete," Han responded.

Jake shot him a look.

"Transformation?" she asked.

Han opened his book again, jaw clenched.

"Han, what do you mean?" she prodded. "What am I transforming into?"

At their silence, another thought hit her.

"Jake, am I a vampire? Were you joking?"

"You're not a vampire," he a.s.sured her. "They're not intolerant do daylight like you are. We'd have to kill you if you were anyway."

He was serious, and she gaped at him.

"They are not cool," he added. "Right, Han?"

"Yep."

"Who can tell me what's going on?" she demanded.