She looked over at him. "All dresses?"

He laughed. "No, not all dresses."

She quickly braided her hair and stood up with sore muscles. "You also promised me a tour of the house."

"That I did," he said, standing and taking her hand in his. He felt her start to pull away, so he held her hand tighter.

They walked slowly through the house. He watched her out of the corner of his eye at the way the feminine dress brushed against the contours of her body while she walked. She asked lots of questions and insisted on seeing inside all 45 bedrooms and antechambers. She seemed frustrated when he wouldn't show her the inside of his office but marveled at the vast library with its tall columns of books.

They stopped in the kitchen for lunch, and he watched her again as she made herself a sandwich. She caught him watching her, and she blushed before turning away to finish.

"This seems like quite a large home for one person," she noted, sitting down with her plate.

"It's been full before. It's not always just me." Emily noticed that when he spoke to her, his voice was like silk, calm and soothing.

He could see her thinking through that. "Your coven?"

He nodded.

"And do you often bring hostages here?" She didn't look up as she ate.

"I've told you, you aren't a hostage."

She simply shrugged.

He frowned. "What was your nightmare about?"

Her body tensed slightly, but she didn't answer.

"It's okay. I guess it's really none of my business. It's just that you were screaming my name."

A blush rose again to her cheeks when she answered, and Chevalier found he liked that. "I don't remember it now."

He knew she was lying but decided not to force it.

After eating, she cleaned up quickly, and they began to return to her room. She stopped to look at a large mirror, though he noticed that she avoided her reflection. It was the antique frame she was looking at. "How old is this?"

"Early 17th century."

"There's something odd about it, like it's not fit properly." Her fingers traced the edge of the mirror.

He took her hand and pulled her away from the mirror, realizing that at times she was too observant for her own good. "It's just an old mirror. Do you realize that you never look at yourself in a mirror?"

"I hadn't noticed."

He had a sudden idea and pulled her to face him. He looked down at her, his eyes locking hers. "You are very beautiful."

She blushed and looked down at the floor, trying to pull away from him.

Some of her actions began to make sense to him. "You should be told that and often. I would imagine Keith knows it, even if he doesn't say it."

"Keith sees me for what I am." She again tried to pull away from him as her eyes fixed on the floor, and a bright blush flushed her cheeks.

"Oh, and what is that exactly?"

"Please, let me go," she asked softly.

"No, I want to know what he's told you, and what he's said about you."

Her body tensed, yet she didn't speak or look up. Her free arm wrapped around her, as if to hide. She suddenly felt very self-conscious in the light dress.

"I need to lay down," she told him. He knew it was a lie but granted her the out.

Chevalier guided her through the corridors silently, and a tense air surrounded. He deliberately took the long way around, hoping to confuse the location of the mirror. Emily seemed relieved to be in the familiar room again. The fire was blazing warmth into it.

Emily slipped into the bathroom to put on her nightgown, and when she came out, Chevalier was gone. She watched the snow swirling outside of the window, and she eventually fell asleep.

Chevalier sat in his study. Hours upon hours he thought about the fragile killer he currently housed. Maybe Ulrich was right. Maybe she wasn't strong enough to know what she was capable of doing. He guessed though, that many hadn't given her a chance to show her inner strength.

He knew it was time for harsh realization. It was time for her to know what she could do and had done in the past. His inner turmoil was raging. Somewhere amid debating between running away with her to a remote island or throwing her into the middle of an extremely dangerous heku battle, he walked quietly into her room and watched her sleep.

"How could anyone not find her astonishingly beautiful?" he thought, looking down at how her long lashes framed her eyes, and how her lips were soft and almost pouty. Delicate wisps of her red hair had escaped the braid and were lying lightly against her face. He suddenly understood how someone could miss that, how someone could convince her that she was anything less than exquisitely beautiful.

Control It wasn't enough for Keith to physically control her. He had to also be emotionally controlling. She was obviously terrified of Keith and afraid to get close to anyone else for fear of retribution. Chevalier found it hard to blame Emily for allowing that to happen. It seemed as if his own kind drove her to find protection from anyone who would give it. There was hope. He would soon tell her that she could easily defend herself. Maybe then, the strong hold that Keith had over her would break.

When that happened, she would face a mortal's worst fear, to be thrown into the very center of a violent heku war that could last centuries, longer than she had as a mortal.

Chevalier felt a pang of guilt for what his true purpose was, training a new weapon. He was fooling himself if he didn't see the bond forming between them, though. The training wouldn't be all fighting and tactics. He enjoyed being with her and especially the time they were alone together.

For now, he had a task to do before she woke up. He stole away as quietly as he could and shut the door behind him, locking it from the outside. He couldn't have her out wandering the mansion while he was occupied.

He smoothly navigated the labyrinthine corridors and stopped at the mirror Emily had inspected earlier. He placed his hands on it and pushed hard, sliding it back along hidden tracks, then he disappeared behind it, and the mirror moved back into place.

Chevalier took the steps down three at a time until his feet landed in the pitch-dark room. The dirt floor and musty smell were familiar to him. He didn't need lights for this. In fact, it would be easier if the darkness was around him, a more natural setting. He grabbed the small drawstring bag from the table and opened it, dumping a pile of ash onto it.

He then drew an intricate dagger from his pocket and pricked his finger, allowing a single drop of blood to fall onto the ash. Instantly, he assumed a defensive posture, ready to attack at the slightest sign of a problem. The ash quivered and began to form.

A hiss escaped his lips as the form took shape into a tall heku. He appeared young and afraid of his surroundings, obviously not entirely aware of what happened to him.

"Where am I?" he growled. Turning toward Chevalier, he matched his crouched posture.

"You will address me as sir, or you will return to ash," Chevalier demanded through clenched teeth.

"I will not address you as sir until I know who you are and what your intentions are." His voice was high-pitched and ground on Chevalier's nerves.

In a sudden movement, Chevalier was at the heku's back with his hands around the man's neck. "So you say you are ready to return to dust?"

The man's eyes filled with terror. He suddenly understood that he was in the presence of one of the Old Ones. "There was a misunderstanding, sir. I am but a humble servant to you."

Chevalier grinned. His teeth were ominous as he returned to his place and faced the new heku. "You attacked a young woman..."

"Yes, sir, the red head. She smelled so delicious." Chevalier could sense the heku re-tasting Emily's blood.

The growl came from deep within his chest, "Who gave you permission to break one of the rules?"

The young heku stammered, "N... N... No one did. I just couldn't stop. She, she was standing so close to me. The breeze caught her hair, and the aroma filled the air."

Chevalier had him. "What is your name?"

"Steven"

"When were you turned?"

"1958... sir."

"Ahhh, a young one. Well, you are going to help me, Steven." Chevalier pointed at a cage in the corner of the room. "Do step in."

Steven knew he couldn't fight back. He couldn't resist the strength of one of the Old Ones. He stepped into the cage and immediately sat on the cot. "Are you going to turn me in to the Elders?"

"No, but I do think you'll later wish I had." Chevalier locked the cage's door. He thought back to when he had the cage installed. The technology and craftsmanship that went into a cage strong enough to hold a heku indefinitely had just barely been found.

"What exactly will I be helping you with?" Steven asked timidly.

"You'll see, and I expect full compliance. You will do what I say, when I say it. You will not so much as breathe without an order from me, is that understood?" Chevalier watched his reaction and was pleased at the compliance.

"Yes, sir."

"Then I'm off. Please, do try to be quiet. No one can hear you scream from down here anyway... well... no one but me." Chevalier chuckled and ascended the stairs, leaving the young heku alone in the dark.

He heard the loud banging from halfway across the house, and he hurried his steps, sure she would be furious with him, something he didn't find all together unpleasant. As he drew closer, he could hear her yelling, "Open this door immediately, Chevalier! You said I wasn't a hostage!"

He unlocked the door, and she fell forward, as if she'd been pushing on it. He caught her gently and righted her to standing. He knew it was coming but failed to react out of compassion for her feelings. Her right hand slapped hard against his face. While it didn't cause him any pain, he still brought his hand up to cradle his cheek, hoping it would help her feel as if she had accomplished something.

"You will never lock me anywhere again. Is that understood?" Emily was furious. Her eyes burned with rage.

Chevalier fought back a smile while she issued almost the exact same warning he just used on the young heku downstairs. "I understand, and I do apologize, but I won't agree to those terms."

His words infuriated her, and her eyes darted across his face. "What?"

"I do what is best for you, and if I feel it would not behoove you to walk aimlessly around my home, then I will do what I see fit, even if it involves locking you in a room." The matter-of-fact way he stated it made her blush return, and her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Please, Emily, don't cry."

"I'm not crying. I'm mad!" she screamed, and wiped a rogue tear off of her cheek.

"Just calm down. You'll be happy. I came to tell you why we are here."

Even with her anger, the curiosity calmed her. "You did?"

"Yes, come sit down. We'll talk." He motioned her back into the room.

Chevalier pulled two chairs to the fireplace and grabbed a blanket from a high shelf in the closet. Emily sat down and curled up with the blanket, her hands around her knees. "Go ahead."

He watched her face, not quite sure exactly how to start this. "Heku have plagued you your entire life."

"Yes, I know. It seems they still do." The anger in her voice was evident.

"Please, Emily, it's very important that you stay calm and not get angry."

"It's too late, keep going."

He sighed. "When you ran to tell Keith or Sam that you were attacked, what do you remember happening immediately after you told them?"

"I'm not sure what you're getting at," she said, and sounded like she was genuinely trying to understand.

"You were mad?"

"Of course."

"Did you faint? Lose track of time? Black out for a moment?"

She frowned. "No, why are you asking me that?"

He braced himself, ready to stop her the instant her face showed signs of distress. "What if I told you that Sam and Keith have never killed a heku before? What if I told you that they aren't even remotely capable of doing so?"

"Then I'd ask you where they went. It's not like they all just decided to take a hike."

He answered calmly and slowly, "It was you, Emily."

"What was me?" She pursed her lips into a thin line.

"That got rid of the heku. You did it. It wasn't Sam, and it wasn't Keith." He leaned toward her a bit.

She smiled a crooked, unsure smile. "I thought you'd be serious."

"I am serious, and it's very important that you understand and believe me." He tried to lock her gaze, but she turned to watch the fire.

"I'm not strong enough to kill them," she whispered.

"I think you are stronger than you even know."

"Keith kills them." She was trying to persuade herself.

"You do it, Emily. It's a natural, built-in self-defense mechanism passed down through the women in your family."

"You're fast. You're strong. I can't fight that. I'm lucky if I can open my own pop bottle." She was smiling now. Chevalier realized that it wasn't going as smoothly as he'd hoped. She was in denial.