I gazed into his blue-green depths and believed him.

So, the Head Shark just said he won't eat me. Should I laugh or scream?

The door opened again and several women-none of whom I'd ever seen before-entered the room and lined up a few feet away from the bed.

Devereux indicated them with a sweep of his arm. "My companions have come to assist you with dressing. They will prepare you for the ceremony."

He kissed me lightly on the lips and turned to walk away.

My throat tightened and the sound came out like a squeak. "Wait! What do youmean, they'll prepare me for the ceremony? "

Why does this remind me of the cartoon where the cannibals have a huge pot boiling on the fire, waiting for the hapless hunter to arrive?

I didn't see any ropes, chains or anything else that could be used to restrain me. No cooking utensils or things with an edge that could cause bleeding. But my imagination was work-ing overtime, creating scary and unspeakable possibilities.

"Ah, my apologies.I forget that you have not given your-self permission yet to read my thoughts. You still choose to resist. They are here to help you select one of the beautiful dresses and to make sure you have everything you need."

He pointed to a tall, slender woman with long brown hair and golden eyes. Her rangy body was encased in what used to be called a "unitard," a one-piece body suit worn for ex-ercising. Except during the disco era, when these skin-tight, shiny numbers showed up on the dance floor along with six-inch platform shoes and big hair. Her suit made her look like she'd been dipped in a glittering rainbow, since everycolor imaginable was present. And the form-fitting garment left no doubt about her voluptuous shape.

"This is Nola. She will see to your hair and makeup."

I ran a hand through my tangled hair.The disco queen will see to my hair and makeup ?"My hair and makeup? I don't think so."

I rolled off the bed and walked a wide circle around the women standing between me and the door.Devereux repeated his disturbing habit of suddenly ap-pearing in front of me, frowned and laid a hand on my arm. "Why do you object to being adorned? You usually wear makeup."

He said the last with impatience in his voice. I guess my resistance had unpleasantly surprised him.

Maybe he wasn't used to anyone saying "no" to him. I wasn't the only one who had a lot to learn.

I summoned my best, no-bullshit facial expression. "You need to fill me in on what's happening here. I'm not going anywhere or letting anyone do anything until I'm clued in."

He heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"As I have said before, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever known. Are you not ever willing to be spontane-ous? Must you be in control at all times? Are you unable to even sense the truth of my words?"

Well, that stopped me. He'd managed to trespass into my psyche and find the hottest buttons to push.

I'd often been accused of lacking spontaneity, and my controlling nature was legendary. How else is a woman supposed to rise to the top of her field if she doesn't take control of her reality? But he had pulled the scab off a painful wound. I did wish that I was able to relax and trust more-that I could follow my in-tuitive guidance.That I wasn't so . . . anal.

But it was the expression on his face that really turned the tide. In one breathtaking gaze he'd managed to com-municate that he thought this ceremony was for my benefit. That he'd arranged it to keep me safe.

That he was worried about me.

ShitNow he's gone and done it He's got me feeling guilty about letting him down. How did that happen?

My shoulders sagged. I met his concerned eyes and nod-ded. "All right.I trust you."

Maybe. Where can I find some shark repellent?He flashed a brilliant smile. "Thank you." He bowed from the waist and glided toward the door. "I will return for you shortly. It will be an extraordinary evening."

He left and the women surrounded me. Nola floated over to the chair where the dresses were draped.

"Which dress do you prefer?" She smiled, showing even, white teeth.

I expected her to have fangs and was surprised she ap-peared so normal.Except for the golden eyes.

She smiled again and her canines descended.

Can everybody read my mind?

She laughed and nodded. "Probably."

I'm in a parallel universe where everyone is telepathic except me.

"No. You can do it, too. The Master told us. He said you are a special human."

"Why do you call him Master? Is he holding you here against your will? Are you brainwashed?"

She cocked her head to the side, confusion flowing across her features.

"He takes care of us. He is more powerful than any who came before. We aren't prisoners here. We are privileged to at-tend him.To be in his presence." Her face shone with rapture.

Eeewww.Devereux has a harem of bloodsucking handmaidens.Worshipping devotees.Disempowered females. If he thinks Fm going to join the cult, he's sadly mistaken. This is the twenty-first century, mister, and Fm a liberated woman. I wonder what other services they perform forhim? What if this ceremony deal is some kind of bizarre sexual ritual?

"Can you tell me about the ceremony we're going to? What should I expect?"

She smiled, which confused me until I figured out that she'd obviously read my mind and knew about my judgments and speculations.

She met my eyes briefly then shifted away. "That infor-mation is not mine to share. Have you decided on a gown?" She pointed to the dresses on the chair.

I'd felt a mild tingle wash through my body as she'd turned her eyes to me. I didn't know if all vampires could entrance with their eyes, but I had to admit I'd felt something.

I walked over to the chair.

Remembering the beautiful, shimmering blue dress, I lifted the others out of the way until I found it. It was floor-length with a plunging neckline, made of a soft, lustrous material that might have been woven moonlight.

"This one will be fine. You know, I'm perfectly able to dress myself, so you and your friends can go and do whatever you need to do now."

"We are here to attend to you. It is the Master's wish. We shall remain."

Okay. Maybe we could have an informal consciousness-raising group here. These women must have slept through the '60s.

Nola draped the blue dress over her arm and floated over to the armoire containing the shoes and lingerie. The other women, all dressed incolorful , flowing gowns, posed like goddess statues in a semi-circle where they'd remained since they entered.

My newly acquired assistant opened the drawers, pulled out the shoe boxes and rifled through them.

She seemed to be searching for something in particular and got excited when she found whatever it was.

Her voice raised in pitch. "Yes. These are lovely."

She held up a pair of open-toe, blue high heels, the same shade as the dress, and a strapless, satin corset with garters for silk stockings. Which, what a coincidence, were alsoavailable.

I waited next to her, watching. "Just out of curiosity, how do you know what's in there? Did you buy this stuff?'"

She nodded. "The Master asked several of us to observe you and to discern your clothing sizes. Then he told us what he had in mind and gave us free rein to purchase all manner of clothing from the Internet. It was very entertaining." What do you mean, 'observe me'?"'Physically andastrally , of course. We watched you in your home and joined you in your dreams.The usual ways."

The usual ways?

My eyebrows shot up. "You spied on me?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes. You are very inter-esting. Come now. There is a room for dressing and hygiene."

Why does everyone around Devereux speak so strangely?

She stepped over to the nearest wall, touched a symbol carved in the wood and a panel slid aside, exposing an opening into yet another room.The "room for dressing and hygiene," or more commonly, thebathroom. But it was a very large, ornate bathroom.

She took my hand and pulled me, as if I was her little red wagon. The rest of the team remained behind.

Gee.Devereux's private bathroom.Should I genuflect or something?

The room was big enough to be a public restroom, but much too luxurious for the masses. There was a faint hint of his scent in the air, perhaps more easily recognized because no incense was burning to mask the fragrance. Mirrors lined each wall and opulent, silver-streaked marble counters were abundant.

Multiple sinks with sparkling, modern hardware were interspersed along the counters and the floor was pris-tine white marble.

A huge silver bathtub sat on a raised platform, enclosed by glass etched with figures of nude men and women dancing. Next to it, in another glass-surrounded area, was a double shower.

Fluffy white towels sat in piles on the various counters and hung in artistic racks on the walls next to the bath and shower areas.

Painted along the top of the walls, like a happy little bor-der, were more men and women, frolicking in all their naked majesty.

This is unsettling. Devereux really seems to enjoy the nude human form. That makes me both anxious and excited at the same time.Back to my question about the nature of the ritual.

White leather chairs and a loveseat sat off to the side in an alcove, and a clothing rack stood next to a small mirrored makeup table with a fancy matching chair. On the table was a small box, wrapped in shiny paper with a rose pinned to the top instead of a bow. A small card had my name on it.

Nola watched me as I opened the gift. She rocked back and forth from heel to toe, smiling a cat-who-ate-the-canary smile.

Inside was a black velvet jewellery box containing a beautiful silver pentagram on a chain, identical to the one Devereux's mother wore in her portrait.

I was speechless. My mouth opened into an "ah" that re-mained silent. The weight and craft of the piece suggested it was high-quality and probably very valuable.

I turned to Nola and shook my head.

She cocked hers and raised one sculpted eyebrow. "Are you unhappy with your gift? The Master was very pleased to choose it for you."

"No. I'm not unhappy. I'm confused. Why would he give me something so valuable? He barely knows me."

She tilted her head to the other side and studied me. "Per-haps that is not true. You must dress now.

The nightawaits ."

Just then, as if there'd been a silent signal, the other women filed into the bathroom. I decided to let all the rest of my questions wait until I could talk to Devereux.

After some initial stubbornness on my part, when I insisted on adjusting my own breasts in the cups of the corset, I finally gave up and let them take over. It turned out they were pretty good with the makeup and hair stuff, and when they finally stepped away to survey their work, it was declared good.

They'd managed to enhance my features through their cosmetic witchery and kept my hair down long and curly. Sub-tle silver sparkles had been dusted on my curls and the lovely pentagram necklace was added as a last touch. It dangled in the cleavage created by the low-cut dress and tight corset.

Although cleavage was usually the least of my concerns.In fact, eliminating it had always been a thornier problem. Thinking about my genetic heritage from my mother made me wonder what she'd say if she saw me at the moment. If she and my father had thought I was strange before, now they'd probably move to another state and leave no forward-ing address.Suddenly, all the women raised their heads as if they were listening to something I couldn't hear,then Devereux's entic-ing voice floated through the opening of the door.

"Kismet?Shall we go?"

My entourage escorted me back into the other room, as I wobbled a bit on my shoes' thin heels. Not quite stilettos, but in theneighborhood .

He literally gasped when he saw me. And I had the same reaction when I laid eyes on him.

He waltzed elegantly over to me, held out both hands and took mine. "You humble me with your beauty.

I am overwhelmed."

"Uh . . ."

It's becoming annoying that my brain goes on vacation whenever I'm around Devereux. I had no idea lust could be so intoxicating.

He smiled and twirled me around in a dance-like movement, which caused my dress to spiral out around me, lifting off the ground.

He looked spectacular.

Dressed in cream-colored soft leather, his pants were ob-viously cut specifically for his lean, muscular frame. They fit his body like a perfect glove, the waistband riding just above his hips. A line of soft platinum hair snaked down his lower stomach and disappeared into his pants. With the excep-tion of those enticing little strands, his chest was smooth and hair-free. The state of his chest was apparent because he wasn't wearing a shirt. The muscles in his abdomen were toned and obvious, and his nipples peeked out occasionally from beneath the open floor-length duster, which moved like something much softer than leather. Or, maybe that's how expensive leather moves.Shining in thecenter of his chest was the same antique medallion he'd worn the first time he'd come to my office.

Thecolor of his hair matched his clothing and it spilled down over his shoulders, long, soft, and delectable. The blue-green of his eyes sparkled with a fire from within and they shone like the alchemical blending of emeralds and sapphires.

As he swayed with me in our inadvertent dance, I be-came entranced by the sight of him in all that leather without a shirt. The pink of his nipples peeped out from the edges of the coat, vivid against his pale skin and captured my at-tention-and my imagination. A trick of the light made the medallion seem to pulse against his skin. I had to fight the desire to touch him, to run my hands over his chest.

We stopped moving and I finally found my voice.

"You look amazing. I just want to run my fingers through your hair and lick your chest."

My outburst startled me and I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment.Geez, did I really say that out loud? Have I been sucked into the cult?

He let go of me and laughed until his eyes glistened. He wiped the moisture away,then took my face in his hands.

"Thank you for that. I have never been so flattered. I hope you will still feel that way when we are alone later."

When we're alone later? At least he assumesWe'll get through this ceremony in one piece.

He cocked his head and smiled. 'As I have said, I swear that you will be safe." Has anyone ever told you that reading minds without permission is rude?"

He nodded."My apologies."

He bent his arm at the elbow and lifted it out for me to take.