Ash laid his palm flat against the door and pushed it farther open. Careful not to brush against him, Ariana squeezed by to join him in the hallway. They walked the length of the hall in silence as Ariana tried to take in the details of the house and the man.

Ash was dressed casually in black pants and a dark blue linen shirt. An expensive watch glittered on his left wrist as he reached up to run a hand through his hair. Dark strands parted, then sprang back into place.

"I love your house," Ariana said.

Ash looked down at her, his carved face lit by an unexpected smile. "Would you like a tour?"

"I'd love it," she answered, catching some of his enthusiasm.

Ash showed her through the main part of the house, opening doors to salons, guest rooms, reading rooms, and libraries.

"How long have you had this place?" Ariana finally asked, noting that, for all the interesting contents of each room, there were no tales of guests or former owners.

Ash frowned slightly. "It's belonged to my family for over 400 years."

"Wow," Ariana exclaimed, "that's kind of amazing. I'd love to hear about them, your family."

"This," Ash said, opening a door on the second floor, "will be your work s.p.a.ce while you're here."

Ariana let the change of subject pa.s.s and poked her head into the room Ash indicated. Her eyes traveled over the collection of computers, white boards, boxes, and small desks that surrounded the one large table in the center of the room. "War room, indeed," she said, laughing.

"What?" Ash asked.

"Oh, nothing." Ariana shook her head. "I'd love to see more, but I'm sure Nancy is already wringing her hands that we are late for dinner."

Ash gave her a peculiar look. "Right on the money, as always," he said. He reached out as if to grab her hand but stopped short. "Come on, then. Down we go." They went back toward the center of the house and down the main staircase.

On the first floor, not far from the kitchen, a table was laid in what Ariana now knew was only one of at least three dining rooms. This one was very informal, and the table was roughly the same size as the one they'd shared at their previous dinner in Ash's townhouse.

Once again, the food was impeccable and they pa.s.sed the meal in companionable conversation, mostly about her work.

It's torture, Ariana thought. She didn't want to be companionable. She didn't know what she wanted, and apparently neither did Ash. One minute he was looking at her with naked hunger, and the next minute he went back to seeming like a casual acquaintance. It was strange to think this was only their third meeting.

"Would you like to finish our drinks out on the terrace?" Ash asked. They had waved off desert, opting for cordials instead.

"Oh, yes," Ariana exclaimed. "I'd love to see what the stars look like out here."

"It's a little chilly out," Ash commented. "Do you have a jacket?"

Ariana shook her head. "I think it's still buried in a bag somewhere in my room. No, wait," she called, deciding she must be a little jet-lagged. "Nancy took the jacket I was wearing when I came in. I don't know where she put it."

Ash pushed his chair back. "Wait right here. I'll go and get it for you."

A moment later he reappeared holding her short wool coat. Ariana rose and slipped into it, pulling it tight around her. Ash's hands lingered on her shoulders, but he did not turn her around. Instead, he ran his hands around the collar, pulling her hair free.

"I like you as a blond."

What an odd thing to say, Ariana thought. She'd been a brunette for a while in college, but she was basically a dark blond and always had been.

She turned and walked past him into the hall, but Ash didn't follow.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked.

"I think drinks may not the best idea after all."

"Lost your nerve?" she asked, smiling at his suddenly serious expression.

"Yes." His response was blunt, his face oddly pained.

Ariana looked quickly away, suddenly desperate to get back to the sanctuary of her room.

"I guess I'll say goodnight then," she said brightly, taking two steps in what she fervently hoped was the right direction. She did not want to have to ask him to escort her.

When Ash said nothing after a few steps, Ariana breathed a sigh of relief that she'd started in the right direction. Of course, one wrong turn and she might still be wandering the halls in the morning.

"Oh," she said suddenly, "will your other advisors be joining us tomorrow?"

Her rapid shift into work-mode seemed to throw him for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "Yes," he responded. "Justin is coming up tomorrow afternoon."

"Great. I'll come down early and start trying to get a handle on the contents of the work room first thing."

She left him standing there nodding as she made what she hoped was a beeline for her room.

Ash went over to the sideboard and poured himself a full gla.s.s of brandy. The sweet burn of the liquor did nothing to dull the ache that had settled somewhere underneath his breastbone.

She'd betrayed him, he told himself. She was the same calculating woman who'd bargained away his life for a few coins. He couldn't forget that. He'd waited 3,000 years for his revenge. He would make her love him and then take her life. Like for like. He just couldn't lose what was left of his soul in the process. Then again, he thought, maybe Toria was right; maybe there was nothing left to lose.

CHAPTER 20.

Memnon hated the lights of the city. Even more, he hated its infernal noises. After 2,000 years encased in rock, the constant cacophony was unbearable, forcing him to intersperse his above-ground activities with periods of solitude. It had taken some time, but he'd finally found a place both dark and quiet enough to meet his needs.

Taking the grimy steps down into the subway station two at a time, he hopped the turnstile and meandered down to the end of the platform. The station's only other occupant was a woman of indeterminate age asleep on a bench under an equally indeterminate number of coats. Her eyes didn't open as Memnon pa.s.sed, so he walked straight toward the tracks and stepped off the edge.

No train approached, so he walked down the middle of the track bed deep into the tunnel. Dirt and garbage crunched beneath his feet. About 60 feet in from the station, the tunnel pa.s.sed underneath a grate that was open to the street, and bars of eerie blue light shone down onto the tracks. Memnon kept walking, watching the blue light pa.s.s over his white skin and then fade into the distance behind him. Finally, he came to a point where only blackness greeted him, and he allowed his muscles to relax.

A few more feet brought him to an unused tunnel that branched off from the main line. Down that tunnel was a small maintenance closet, with just enough room for him to squeeze in. Crumpling his large, lean frame into the small s.p.a.ce took a few moments, but he didn't mind. The dark confines of his new home comforted him, reminding him of Herculaneum, of all the years he'd lain buried there, frozen in ash and rock.

He hadn't planned on that, of course. He'd expected to see something extraordinary, or he'd expected to die.

He had first gone to Pompeii, but corruption and debauchery had already drained all the humanity from its inhabitants. He couldn't stand to be around them, so he'd journeyed farther north to the smaller village of Herculaneum.

It was a fateful choice. The eruption happened in daylight, but the cloud that spewed forth out of the mountain had blocked out the sun. He might have escaped from Pompeii, as it was only covered over by about ten feet of debris, but Herculaneum was on the other side of Vesuvius, where the eruption buried the town under 75 feet of scalding ash. It had felt like the entire inside of the mountain had come down on his head.

Then came the silence. For so long, nothing moved or spoke, just the occasional vibration of the offended earth. It was so quiet it took some time for him to realize he wasn't dead. It took even longer for him to realize he wasn't going to die.

At first the hunger tormented him, reducing him to the point where he begged the G.o.ds to take his life-but they refused. Lack of blood brought insane ravings and threatened his mind, but his body did not die.

Finally, to take his mind off the hunger, he reached out with it into the earth, trying to see. He saw only death initially, the corpses of all those who had perished. Slowly, life returned, beginning with the minutest creatures-the grubs, the worms. Finally, creatures returned that he could sense with his other faculties-a nesting mouse, a scavenging bird; all these were company to him.

For years, they were his only company. The human race abandoned Pompeii and Herculaneum. He could actually feel the collective attention of the world as it faded. When he realized this, he tried to seek it out. What was the world looking at now that it had forgotten the tragedy into which he had been baked like a berry in a pie?

Eventually, he could see what the world saw. Or at least part of it. He could see other vampires. There was only Ash and the one other in the beginning. The other one he didn't know and could not explain. Ash, on the other hand, was familiar. Ash being alone, being a soldier, being miserable. Same old Ash.

He saw him make first one, then another vampire, and that horrid woman, Toria. Then came still others. From his hole in the rock Memnon watched their entire vampire family bloom like nightshade across the globe.

And for what purpose? To hide in darkness? To a.s.suage the loneliness of creatures who should never have existed in the first place?

What a waste, Memnon thought as he closed the flimsy metal door of his new resting place. No matter, things would soon be made right. This new age demanded a new leader, one who would do more than hide in the dark pretending to be human.

He smiled, delighted to finally be a soldier again.

CHAPTER 21.

Ariana woke from a troubled sleep as the sun's first rays lit the room. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. Then she remembered Ash's magnificent home and the pained look on his face last night when he brought their evening to an early end. That look had haunted her dreams.

Nevertheless, she planted her feet in the soft carpet and vowed to put Ash out of her mind. She was here to work, and since work was the only thing she had left, she couldn't afford to screw it up.

An hour later she opened the door to the war room to make good on her vow. Three laptops were set up on the large white table that occupied the center of the room. She walked around the table, following the tiny aisle that had been left clear between the center table and the stacks of boxes that took up most of the far wall.

Reaching her destination, she removed one of the laptops and replaced it with her own, then watched the screen flare predictably to life. With that small success under her belt, Ariana got to her feet and looked around the room to try to figure out where to start. At least a dozen doc.u.ment boxes sat on the floor along the wall to her right. It looked like as good a place as any.

She pulled the first box out from the wall and took off the lid. A single sheet of white paper indicated that the box contained the offering memoranda and subscription agreements of some of the funds in which Ash's money was currently invested.

She pulled the lid off the second box. It contained proxy statements and annual reports for various public companies. The third box held similar doc.u.ments for private companies of which Ash owned all or a portion of the equity.

She looked at the front of each of those boxes. The fund box was labeled one of twelve. The public company box was one of six. The private company box was one of fourteen.

Ariana let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She hoped Justin had already done a summary of all these. If not, this was going to take forever.

She walked down and pulled the lids off the other three boxes-real estate, bonds, and "other," respectively. The "other" box was only one of four, so Ariana decided to start there.

Halfway through a catalogue of art, antiques, boats, and cars, Ariana heard the door open. She looked up over her computer screen to see Nancy gingerly poking her head into the room.

"Morning, Nancy," Ariana said with a smile.

"Good morning, Miss Chambers. What can I bring you for your breakfast?"

Ariana thought a moment. She was hungry. "Do you have eggs?" she asked. "I could go for some scrambled eggs and a gla.s.s of juice if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all," Nancy replied. "I'll be back shortly."

Ariana wondered at the new formality as Nancy disappeared from the doorway. She took her gla.s.ses off and got up to stretch.

The sun had fully risen and Ariana went to look out the window. The war room faced the back of the house and looked down on an elaborate garden. Manicured hedges topped by budding flowers created a cloverleaf shape around a fountain at its center. Gargoyles spit arcs of water out to the four winds. Cla.s.sical urns filled with more flowers guarded the entryways to various paths that led off in different directions from the center cloverleaf design.

In moments Nancy was back bearing a tray laden with food. Ariana ran to hold the door for her.

"Oh, thank you, dear." Nancy carried the tray around to where Ariana's computer was set up. She removed the cloth napkin that had covered half the tray, and Ariana looked down at a veritable feast of eggs, ham, cereal, yogurt, juice, milk, and coffee. "Wow. Nancy, you didn't need to go to all this trouble," she said. "I don't even usually eat breakfast."

Nancy smoothed her gray dress and cast a baleful eye at Ariana. "Well, a few good breakfasts won't do you any harm, especially if you're going to be getting up with the chickens."

Ariana laughed. "You needn't worry about that. I'm not usually a morning person either. Once I get over the jet lag, you won't see me until long after the sun is up."

"You and the master will get along well then," Nancy said pertly.

Master? Ariana repeated silently, just managing to hold her tongue. "Is he a night owl, too?"

"Quite, I'm afraid," Nancy said. "He gets up late and works in his study for several hours before we are even allowed to check on him. You probably won't see him until this afternoon when Mr. Justin gets here. He's due in at 4:00, I believe."

"Oh." Ariana was disappointed.

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Chambers." Nancy gave a little bow and moved toward the door.

Ariana frowned. "Nancy," she called out.

The older woman looked back at her.

"Please call me Ariana. Even though I'm working here and not just a house guest, I'd much prefer it if we were informal."

Nancy smiled. "We're British, Miss Ariana. We can only be so informal, but I will try." Nancy took two more steps and then turned back once more. "I'm sorry if I was a little terse earlier. I didn't realize yesterday who you were, and I was worried I had been too casual in my att.i.tude toward you."

Ariana stared blankly at the woman. "Who am I?"

Nancy laughed. "Not what I expected when Ben told me you were a multi-millionaire, a successful businesswoman, and that you've come here to take over managing the master's fortune."

Now it was Ariana's turn to laugh. "It sounds infinitely better when you say it like that. In reality it's a lot of number crunching and drinking too much coffee, getting too little sleep and having to increase my eyegla.s.s prescription twice a year."

Nancy harrumphed and headed for the door. "All the more reason to eat a hearty breakfast," she called out over her shoulder. "Or," her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "to snag a rich husband."

Ariana couldn't hide her surprise. Was Nancy matchmaking? She decided to nip this in the bud and smiled gently at the older woman. "As you mentioned, Nancy, I don't really need a rich husband."

Nancy's smile never faltered. "Well then, I guess that leaves you free to appreciate the master's other... qualities." Her gray brows wiggled naughtily on the last word. "Just ring the kitchen when you're done with the tray, dear." She exited through the swinging door, before a puzzled and slightly shocked Ariana could finish setting her straight.