Shivering, I said nothing. What could I say? Everything out of my mouth seemed to be a mistake tonight, and I didn't want to make another.

Lannan stepped up the pace, driving into the brunette from behind. He focused on me, keeping me in thrall. I could see his tongue dipping to lap up her blood, his fangs sinking a little deeper, widening the punctures, a flowered bruise spreading across her skin. His thrusts and her cries were driving me crazy and I gasped, realizing that I wanted nothing more than to push her aside, to impale myself on him, to take her place to take her place.

At that moment, I hated him. But . . . oh, how I wanted him. oh, how I wanted him.

And then, with a final grunt, he pulled away from her and tossed her aside. She fell to the ground, dazed. His face was a b.l.o.o.d.y mess, his fangs needle-sharp and dripping, his c.o.c.k slick and he was hideous again. I shuddered, revolted. He laughed then, quietly tucking himself back in his pants and zipping up. Regina pushed me forward to meet him as he slowly sauntered my way. I wanted to run but he wasn't finished with me. The predator lurked strong behind those icy black eyes of his.

He grabbed me around the waist and I could feel him still rigid, pressing against my thigh. He slid one hand down to caress the curve of my back, and the dress I was wearing seemed entirely inadequate. I might as well be naked.

"You want to f.u.c.k? All you have to do is ask. Beg me. Beg me. Or . . . just make another mistake." And then, he leaned down and rubbed his face against mine, smearing the girl's blood across my cheeks as he fastened his lips against mine. The salty, metallic tang filled my mouth as he kissed me deep. And then, without another word, he let go. I stumbled, and when I steadied myself and looked up, Lannan had disappeared into the crowd. The pulse of the music throbbed in my head as the party continued. Or . . . just make another mistake." And then, he leaned down and rubbed his face against mine, smearing the girl's blood across my cheeks as he fastened his lips against mine. The salty, metallic tang filled my mouth as he kissed me deep. And then, without another word, he let go. I stumbled, and when I steadied myself and looked up, Lannan had disappeared into the crowd. The pulse of the music throbbed in my head as the party continued.

My wolf growled, deep and angry and jealous. Somehow, Grieve knew that I had responded to someone other than him.

Twenty minutes later, we were outside, standing by Favonis. Leo and Rhiannon stared bitterly back at the house, and I knew they felt they'd failed me.

Truthfully, I I didn't even know what to say. I felt dirtier than I ever had and yet . . . and yet . . . a knot in my lower stomach begged for release. The feel of Lannan's hands on my skin kept resounding through my body. didn't even know what to say. I felt dirtier than I ever had and yet . . . and yet . . . a knot in my lower stomach begged for release. The feel of Lannan's hands on my skin kept resounding through my body.

"Cicely . . . are you all right?" Rhiannon's voice filtered through my head. I turned to her. "I shouldn't have let you do it-I should be the one. Heather's my my mother. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." mother. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You wouldn't be able to cope with the vampires. And both you and I know that. If Lannan handled you the way he handled me, you'd be dead by now, imploding in some fiery explosion. I've learned how to build my defenses. You're just learning." With a sigh, I unlocked the doors.

Shaking my head, I climbed behind the wheel. "It was my choice. Don't worry. We'll have money coming in, we'll have gifts, and we'll have their help in rescuing Aunt Heather-and if they can-Elise and Peyton. It's worth a few b.l.o.o.d.y kisses for just that."

Forcing a smile to my lips, not wanting to tell them about my visit to Crawl yet, I screeched out of the driveway. The roar of the car set me even more on edge, and I floored the gas, speeding the whole way home. And n.o.body said a word to stop me.

As soon as we entered the house, after we did a quick search, I hit the shower, scrubbing myself until I was raw, trying to rid myself of the sleazy feel of his fingers on my skin. But the b.l.o.o.d.y taste was still there, even after brushing my teeth, even after I ate half a tin of Altoids in the bathroom.

I slowly padded back to my room and opened the door. As I entered, the first thing I noticed was the window was open. And the second was that Grieve was sitting on my bed, frowning, his eyes narrow and dark.

Chapter 13.

The shock of seeing Grieve made me drop my towel. I stood there, stark naked, staring at him, unable to formulate a single word.

"Aren't you going to say h.e.l.lo, Cicely?" His voice tested me out, his words sliding over me like smooth balm on a stinging wound.

I stood there, closing my eyes as Ulean swept up behind me. I could feel her there, embracing me in her cooling breeze.

You have had such a horrible night. You need to relax.

Grieve circled me, his eyes on my wolf tattoo. "I felt you tonight. I felt you respond, I felt you quicken. Who touched you? Who touched you? I smell the scent of graveyard dust and tattered shrouds in your aura. What have you been doing?" I smell the scent of graveyard dust and tattered shrouds in your aura. What have you been doing?"

I slowly turned, matching his movements as he revolved around me. My pulse was beating in my throat. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't tell him what had happened. Rhiannon, Leo-their lives depended on my discretion. But what could I say instead? How could I deflect his questions?

"We were hanging out in a cemetery, looking for graveyard dust for spells. The energy's strong there." I didn't blink, didn't flinch.

"Then why are you so aroused? Why did your wolf warn me that someone was touching you?" He reached out, slowly traced the outline of my tattoo with one finger. His touch made my body sing.

"I don't know." I thought of telling him that a stranger had put the make on me, but then thought better of it. Grieve would go looking for someone to blame and find an innocent man. "Maybe it had something to do with the energy there."

"Perhaps," Grieve said, placing his hand flat against the wolf's head. "Tell me about when you got this tattoo. There are so many things I can't remember since Myst came to power."

Had the turning affected his ability to remember? It didn't seem possible and yet-Grieve was so like and yet unlike himself that I wondered. Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I said, "When I was fifteen, I dreamed of a wolf tracking me through the city streets. He was protecting me, watching over me. I didn't realize it was your spirit form. At the time, Krystal was hanging out with a tattoo artist named Dane, who was in love with her. He was one of the few boyfriends she had who was relatively sane. He paid for our room and board for about three months."

"Did he ever try anything with you?" Grieve asked gruffly.

I shook my head. "Dane was one of the few who didn't. He was a good guy. One night, we were hanging out, getting stoned. Krystal was out hooking for a few extra bucks. Dane was staring at me and when I asked why, he said he could see a wolf sitting next to me-a beautiful silver wolf with green eyes that came to life as he described it."

"It was me," Grieve whispered softly, drawing his hand across his eyes. "I remember. I did what I could in astral form to watch over you."

"I know that now, but at the time, Dane's vision just sounded so beautiful and I got to thinking about the protector in my dream. I asked him if he'd ink the wolf onto me and he agreed. I know it sounds stupid, letting somebody stoned tattoo you, but I knew-absolutely knew-that he wouldn't f.u.c.k up, and that I had to have this tattoo. And he'd done the rest of my tats over the previous few months, so I knew he was good at his job. We spent the night getting high on Acapulco gold and he worked on the wolf's head and the roses and skulls for five hours."

I closed my eyes, remembering. Around eight, he'd put in a Gary Numan CD-Outland-and played it on a loop, over and over. The only sounds through the hours that pa.s.sed were those of the Electronica Wizard of Oz, the hum of the tattoo gun, and our quiet pull on the joints that he'd lined up on the table.

I'd watched as the vision from my dreams came to life in brilliant color, first the wolf with his emerald eyes glowing, then the trail of roses and violet skulls that swept across my midsection, from thigh to side. It had hurt, but the pot helped me transcend the pain and lose myself in the experience.

Then, a little after one in the morning, Dane stood back and whispered, "My G.o.d, look at yourself. You're beautiful."

And I'd looked down, and found the wolf that had followed me in dream after dream come to life on my skin. And I knew that he would always be with me, would always be watching over me.

"The next morning, Krystal threw Dane out and smacked me across the face. She was convinced I'd f.u.c.ked him. I finally got her to believe that he'd just tattooed me, but it was too late. That night, Dane was at work in his shop and some motherf.u.c.ker came in with a gun and blew his brains out, took all his cash, and vanished into the night. n.o.body ever caught him. The cops didn't look very hard. Like so many of the people we met on the road, Dane was outside of the mainstream and the police considered him expendable. Just another tattoo artist biker dude. Just another tattoo artist biker dude."

I fell silent, thinking of the tall blond man who'd painstakingly inked my body. I had fantasies that he would take us in, marry Krystal, give us a settled life. His death sent me into a deep depression, but Krystal had just blown it off, angry that her meal ticket had disappeared.

After that night, I'd guarded the wolf from public view, not wanting to share him with others. He felt like he was alive and sometimes I could hear him growling at me, warning me, calling me. Eventually, I figured out it was Grieve-whether his spirit or memory, I didn't know. The men I'd slept with over the years hadn't liked the tattoo much, but I didn't give a d.a.m.n. The wolf was part of me and I loved it like a good friend.

"And so here we are. You and I. Together again." Grieve gently traced his fingers over the tattoo and I felt like I was diving off a cliff into a midnight pool, dark and sparkling, so deep that I would never touch bottom. I let out a choked gasp. Please, no more. I couldn't handle much more. Please, no more. I couldn't handle much more.

Aching to calm the raging hunger within, I slowly lowered my hand to rest on top of his.

"Cicely . . ." His voice was breaking.

"Don't stop. I need you more than I can bear," I said, closing my eyes against the approaching storm. Indigo Court or not, I had to feel him touch me, enter me, make me whole. "I can't tell you what happened, but I can't stand this tension any longer."

Grieve moved in, his hand slowly trailing across my stomach to rest on my hip. He tipped my chin up and my eyes fluttered open. Those luminous stars studding their sea of onyx held me firm.

"Are you sure? Are you sure this is what you want?" He looked almost sad, but I could smell his arousal on the breeze, intoxicating and wild. He smelled nothing like Lannan had. Vampiric or not, Grieve was alive alive, and he was wild and pa.s.sionate. Regardless of what anybody else thought, I knew he didn't want to hurt me, he wanted to love love me. me.

"Yes, please." My words were m.u.f.fled as he gathered me in his arms and pressed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes, sinking into the kiss. His lips were warm and vibrant, demanding and yet giving. He ran one hand up my cheek to brush my slick, wet hair back away from my face.

"No other man will ever touch you again-not if I can be there to stop him," he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. He began to kiss me-his lips fluttering over my eyes, my cheeks, my lips, down to my neck. I could feel his teeth against my skin, but he hesitated and drew back.

"Not yet," he murmured, almost more to himself than to me. And then his mouth trailed kisses down my chest, teased my b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he slowly tugged on one nipple with his teeth, cautious not to pierce through the skin.

I was so wired all I could think was, Please, please f.u.c.k me Please, please f.u.c.k me. But Grieve wasn't about to move that fast.

He walked me backward to the bed, and in a blur, his clothes were on the floor. He was lean and strong, his olive skin moist and glimmering. His hair hung over his shoulders like spun silver. And he wants me. And he wants me.

As I gazed down his body, taking in his nakedness, I suddenly noticed something-something I'd never seen because I'd never seen Grieve in the light without clothes before. Even the first time, when I was seventeen, I hadn't noticed the mark in the dusk of the summer's evening.

On his upper right thigh, he had a tattoo of my face, of me as an adult, not as a child. A circle of silver roses and purple skulls surrounded my face. The same roses and skulls scattered through the vine near my wolf tattoo.

"That's me! How long have you had that?" I asked, breathless, reaching out to touch my face inked onto his skin.

"You aren't the only one linked in this relationship," he said, gazing down at my finger as he smiled. "Since long before you were born. I didn't let you see it last time. You had to make decisions on your own, without me influencing you. I told you, Cicely, I've been waiting for you. And someday I'll tell you more, when you are able to remember."

My wolf whimpered, a pleading cry, and I pressed against him.

"Make me forget the day. Make me forget everything except your touch." I wanted out of my head, out of my thoughts, out of the b.l.o.o.d.y sleaze I'd been forced to witness at Regina's party.

Grieve pulled me into his arms again, sliding one leg between my knees and I opened to his touch. As we went tumbling onto the bed, all I could hear was the rushing of winds, the soft hooting of owls, the howling of wolves, and my own heart racing. His hands slid over my body, down the length of my legs, and I let out a sharp cry as his fingers gently rubbed me into a frenzy of my own.

Every time he kissed me, white-hot fire-sizzling to a burn-raced through my body. I let out a cry, then another but he refused to stop and kept circling with one finger, driving me crazy with desire.

This is what you've been waiting for, Ulean whispered, and a wind, desert hot and sultry, bathed me in fire. Ulean whispered, and a wind, desert hot and sultry, bathed me in fire. This is why no other man seems to attract you. Dangerous or not, you were bound, you and Grieve, long before you were born into this lifetime. This is why no other man seems to attract you. Dangerous or not, you were bound, you and Grieve, long before you were born into this lifetime.

Shaken, spinning, unsure of where my body left off and where Grieve's touch began, the night became a blur of touch and motion and movement. His lips on my lips, on my body, licking, kissing, nibbling, grazing me with those sharp teeth that hurt so good. His hands were a vortex of motion and my own mirrored his hunger.

I reached out to touch him, then-suddenly needing to lead. I pushed him back on the bed and slid down his body, my tongue tasting the sweet musk of his sweat. I trailed down the center of his stomach, over his abs, down toward the fulcrum of his delicious V, down to meet his rising pa.s.sion, to take him in my mouth, to taste the fiery autumn night that clung to his energy, his very flesh.

"Cicely." His whisper was rough, his voice harsh, but behind my name was a plea for me not to stop, not to push him away.

I licked him full, licked him long in one stroke, my tongue tickling over the long pulse of his c.o.c.k, circling the head and teasing him hard and harder still. And then, suddenly I was on the bottom, and he was over me, head between my thighs, and the sting of his teeth made me cry out in a choked voice.

"Let me in." He rose above me, hips aiming, and I shifted to meet him as he slowly forged his way into my body, into my heart. The slow rhythm of his movements lulled me into a flower-shrouded haze. The scent of spicy carnations wafted over me and I caught the brief glimpse of a dark grove, where our bodies lay entwined on the ground beneath a mossy tree thick with leaves. Only we were not ourselves-but two others-and yet, they were us they were us.

And then, we were back in my bedroom and he was driving harder as the intensity heightened. I tried to remember what he was, who he was, but all I could think of was-he was the right one. He was the one I was meant to be with, we were bound. I had no idea how or why, but here we were.

He lowered his lips to my neck and sliced the skin. Our bodies entwined as he lapped at my blood and a brilliant indigo mist began to swirl around us. He sucked harder and I whimpered as he tasted my most hidden secret self, my very essence. After a moment, he moaned, then pulled his face away. I was afraid to look at him, suddenly flashing back to Lannan's bloodstained mouth and chin after he'd f.u.c.ked the girl.

But Grieve's face was clean, with just a single drop of blood on the corner of his lip, and the look in his eyes was one of life and desire and exquisite joy, and I forgot myself as he began to pump harder. My wolf growled, brazen and feral, and I slid into Grieve's flame. All thought dropped away as the spark became a blaze, and the blaze crowned into a raging fire and there was nothing left but Grieve and me, and our pa.s.sion.

After, long after, I was lying in his arms, dozing. He tapped me on the shoulder and kissed my forehead.

"What is it?" I gazed up at him, realizing that while, yes, I was enthralled because of the venom in his teeth, there was also some energy far deeper beneath the surface working between us.

"I have to go. I don't want them them to ask where I've been." And by to ask where I've been." And by them them, I knew he meant the Indigo Court.

"Good idea." Sliding out from between the sheets, I slipped on my bathrobe. "Do you . . . I . . . I'm not sure what to say." Should I ask him when he'd be back? Keep it casual? Everything inside me screamed this couldn't couldn't be casual and that if he wanted it that way, I was already a goner. be casual and that if he wanted it that way, I was already a goner.

He pressed his finger to my lips. "Hush for now. We are meant to be, Cicely. Let it go at that for now. There are many problems to work through, considering who holds my chains, but we will find a way. I promise you that. You are mine. Never forget that."

And considering who now holds my chains, there are more problems than you think. I thought it, but kept my mouth shut, foreseeing so many land mines ahead of us. I thought it, but kept my mouth shut, foreseeing so many land mines ahead of us.

He leaned down and kissed me again. "One other thing. I will tell you something even though it puts me in danger."

"What is it?"

"Heather's alive. And so is your friend Peyton."

I stared at him and his glamour fell away, leaving him looking vulnerable and weary. Could he be telling the truth? Was he toying with me? Hesitating, I touched my hand to my throat. "Alive? You're sure? Where are they?"

"I'm certain, yes. I don't dare try to help you rescue them, but I will tell you that they're deep within the forest, past the ravine, being held captive in the Marburry Barrow. I don't know how long they'll remain alive, but right now, they're there and relatively unharmed." His eyes narrowed and he leaned toward me. "Myst is holding them captive."

"Where is the Barrow? How far into the wood?"

"You can't just walk up to it. You have to find the portal, otherwise it will just look like a large mound of dirt and gra.s.s. But if you want to go there, follow the path to the stand of red huckleberries. You'll see a Faerie ring of toadstools on the left." He traced a diagram on the bed for me.

"Faerie ring? Aren't those dangerous?"

"Yes. Step carefully-don't enter the ring because it's a snare. Then, continue for about an hour. Turn right after you walk between the Twin Oaks-you can't miss them, they're the only oaks in the area-and you'll find the Marburry Barrow. The oaks are portals, though-and they will thrust you into my world and if there are Indigo Fae around, you'll die. I guarantee it."

"We have to try. We can't just leave them out there."

Grieve paused, then added, "Cicely, there are creatures in the wood-dangerous beasts that the Indigo Court breed and train. And then, there are the Shadow Hunters. They . . . we we . . . bring a new definition to fear." . . . bring a new definition to fear."

"I think I met one of their beasts already. A tillynok."

"Tillynoks used to be safe enough, but everything in the wood's been tainted by Myst's energy." He stared at his nails. "I can't help you any more than I have. At least . . . not now, not yet."

He looked at me then, without any facade, and I caught a glimpse of the old Grieve, the Grieve I remembered from so many years ago. The Grieve who had stared at me so sorrowfully when he was preparing me for life on the road with Krystal.

I moved closer to him, wanting to comfort him. As I placed my hand on his arm, he looked up-almost too quickly-his new side warring with the old-and covered my fingers with his. The wolf's head on my stomach let out a low whimper, and I moved in, pressing my hands on his shoulders.

And then-in a blur of movement-he raced to the window and was gone like a leaf caught up in the wind. The curtains around the open window swirled and I ran over to stare out into the night. There, loping toward the forest, ran a wolf. I raised one hand, then watched as an owl rose from the trees-the great horned bird I'd seen before. Spiraling, it glided on the wind, following the wolf back into the wood.

I slowly returned to bed.

What now? I had to tell the others. We had to go rescue Heather and Peyton. And Rhiannon and Leo deserved to know that Grieve and I were actually lovers. They wouldn't be happy, but I couldn't keep it a secret. I slipped on my robe and crept out into the hallway, tapping lightly on Rhiannon's door. I had to tell the others. We had to go rescue Heather and Peyton. And Rhiannon and Leo deserved to know that Grieve and I were actually lovers. They wouldn't be happy, but I couldn't keep it a secret. I slipped on my robe and crept out into the hallway, tapping lightly on Rhiannon's door.

She answered, looking sleepy but still awake.

"Leo went to work, but not back to the party. Come in," she said. Closing the door behind me, she bundled me over to her bed and I crawled under the comforter with her. We snuggled like we had when we were children, and as she softly touched my cheek, I realized she already knew.

"So then. Grieve." Her words were measured, but her eyes filled with understanding.

"You can tell?"

"Yes. I heard you both-talking low. And I can see it in your face. You love him, don't you? Terribly so?"

"Yes, Grieve. He came to me tonight. Please, understand. I needed needed him. Grieve has a tattoo of my face on his thigh. Just like I have my wolf. He got it before he met me." him. Grieve has a tattoo of my face on his thigh. Just like I have my wolf. He got it before he met me."