"There," he'd said. "It's more comfortable. They'll be here soon to get you."

Cheeto knew he was losing it, but he really didn't know why. He'd never been sentimental and he was pretty sure he wasn't now, but he'd cried over this girl, and the fact was, he hadn't cried since he was five.

Yet after he touched her, he'd felt something, something deep, that weaved itself inside of him and he had been instantly remorseful. No matter what he did, he couldn't shake the feeling.

What the f.u.c.k he was doing waiting for the vampires to come for her, he never would know, but he was doing it.

He pulled her shirt down, straightened it to hide her wounds and laid a light blanket over her, covering her face.

Maybe he should just leave. Sitting here beside of a dead body was stupid, he knew that, but he'd promised the woman on the phone, and he wasn't sure he could leave yet.

The pizza had hit the spot and he crawled onto the bed beside his gunshot victim and turned the television on with the remote on the nightstand.

"Hey, look, an old Bonanza. Man, I loved that show," he said to her, looking down at her still body. He lifted the blanket from her face and grinned down at her. "That Little Joe just cracks me up, every time."

Cheeto dropped the blanket back in place and leaned into the pillows he'd put behind him. He was using both, the girl didn't need hers, did she?

He watched the entire episode of Bonanza, pleased when another started right afterward.

"You thirsty?" he said suddenly. "I need a beer. How about you?"

He shook his head, laughing. "Not anymore, huh? Don't worry, I'll drink yours for you. I need some more of your cash." He'd used her money to pay for the pizza, her wallet open and lying on the dresser. He'd gone through her bag and found nothing more interesting than clothes, although he'd taken her handgun and badge and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

"I'm going to get some beer, you sure I can't get you anything?"

Cheeto started to nudge her and then stopped. Touching her, that had been when the overwhelming sorrow had struck him. He pulled his hand back and reached for the keys to her car.

He was just reaching to open the door when he heard the sound.

It was a gasp, a sudden intake of air, then a moan.

He whirled and stared at the unmoving body under the blanket. d.a.m.n, he was twitchy tonight.

"Just imagining things," he murmured out loud and turned back to the door.

"Where am I?"

Cheeto fell back against the still-closed door. What the h.e.l.l was that?

"Who said that?" he blurted out, freaked-out now.

The blanket began to move and Cheeto's blood froze.

As the body sat up, the blanket fell away and he pushed himself tighter against the door.

He couldn't help himself, he squeaked, in shock, "You're dead, I know you are."

Her eyes opened and her head moved, then she looked at him. She looked confused, closing her eyes, her tongue sliding out to moisten her lips, then her eyes opened again, but she didn't lift them.

With a painfully deep breath, she bent over, her hand to her belly, her eyes moved to Cheeto.

"You shot me," came out on a wheeze.

"I killed you," Cheeto followed up, barely audible.

"What?"

"I said I..."

"I heard you, you crazy f.u.c.king nut. G.o.d, I hurt. Why did you shoot me?"

"For the vampire. So we could keep him. He'll want you back."

Mal's breath froze. He was looking for her? Could he know she was with child?

She tried to scoot off the bed and the pain wracked her body. Bending over, she felt the pain in her chest and lower abdomen.

"My daughter..." she whispered, fear cutting into her heart, but then she felt an intense warmth infuse her and she knew the baby was okay.

Her eyes blew upward to pin Cheeto's. "Help me get out of here and I'll forget all about this."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. The vampire, I need to be gone before he gets here."

Cheeto began to nod his head. This was good, this would clean his slate, give him absolution.

"He'll be here tonight. He's coming from London."

"Good. He can't be out during the daylight, so that gives me time to move. Oh, f.u.c.k!"

She couldn't get out of bed on her own, it hurt too much. Suddenly, she felt an arm around her waist and someone lifting her up. Cheeto was there, supporting her.

"You're still a piece of s.h.i.t, you know that." Mal couldn't help herself.

He smiled painfully and nodded. "I always have been. My daddy told me I'd never amount to anything and I've spent my life living down to his expectation of me."

"Good job," Mal said. She made it to the end of the bed and just sat there. "Can you get me my bag?"

Cheeto looked at her bag, half-emptied and strewn across the room, her wallet open and spilled out on top of the dresser. Mal's eyes followed his.

"c.r.a.p. All right, just throw everything back into it, and find me my keys."

"I have them. I was going for beer."

Shaking her head, Mal tried to stand. "Nice to know you still felt like partying."

Cheeto didn't answer her at first, then he moved directly in front of her to capture her attention.

"I didn't mean to kill you. Honestly. I just wanted to get you for Claude. Then you pulled your gun and I just fired."

"Yeah, sure, I forgive you, you're a real Samaritan. Just get me my keys."

"You were dead," Cheeto said, his tone serious, his volume higher.

"Sure. They always say you can't kill an L.A. cop."

"No, seriously. You weren't breathing. You need to understand me, you were one hundred percent f.u.c.king dead, detective."

Mal pushed herself and got onto her feet, kept her balance, shakily, but stayed upright. "I'm alive, Cheeto. I wouldn't be if I had died. You're mistaken, thank G.o.d."

"No, I'm not. I don't know how it happened, but you were dead, no breathing, no heartbeat, dead, all day. And now you're breathing again."

Mal stared at him. He was completely serious, she could see that. It was impossible, of course, people didn't come back from the dead. But she knew better.

"Okay, whatever," she said, anyway, putting an end to the discussion.

But he came to her and yanked at her shirt, the b.u.t.tons popping, and it hung open.

"What the f.u.c.k?" Mal started to say, when Cheeto pointed to her chest.

"Look," he said.

She glanced down and saw the bullet holes, no less than six ragged holes, one directly over her heart. Her hand went to each hole and gingerly slid across the damaged skin.

"It's not possible," she repeated.

"But it happened," he insisted.

"I..." Mal tried to pose a comment, a thought, and nothing came. The evidence showed that she had serious, fatal, gunshot wounds. Not just her heart, but kidneys and gut.

"Are you a vampire, like him?" Cheeto suddenly asked.

"No!" Her response was loud. "No! I'm as human as you. I just...you must have missed the organs."

Cheeto drew his chin back. "Yeah, sure."

Mal didn't believe it either, but she couldn't process any more mysteries right now. "Look, I have to get out of here. You had better get lost, too."

"Done. I don't have a reason to stay in this city. Claude's probably dead by now anyway."

"All right. You have a credit card, Cheeto?"

He hesitated. "Um..."

"You killed me, you owe me."

"Yeah." He pulled the rattiest wallet she'd ever seen out of the back pocket of his jeans and handed her an equally nasty-looking credit card.

"Thanks. I'm going. Make sure I never see you again."

"Done," Cheeto repeated.

They walked out of the hotel room, Mal heading left to her car, Cheeto heading right to wherever the h.e.l.l he was going. Mal paused while she watched him disappear around the corner of the building and then hit the road.

After she bought a cheap disposable phone at a big box department store, she dialed a number she'd committed to memory two days ago.

When the call connected, she sighed in relief. "Hi, it's Mal. Erin, I need your help. I think he's looking for me. I need to disappear."

Darkness finally came, and Ahmose blew from the room, Eillia and Koen on his heels. David and Xavier had gone home, but with Ahmose's pain and murderous rage, Eillia and Koen stayed with him as he returned to L.A. to retrieve the body of the woman he had deeper feelings for than he understood.

Eillia and Koen understood pain more than anyone. Both had lost people they'd loved deeply over all of these centuries, especially recently. They could not let Ahmose go through this alone.

The address burned into his memory, Ahmose crashed through the door of the low quality hotel room and knew immediately that she wasn't there.

Moments behind him, Eillia and Koen walked into the mess.

"Less than clean," Eillia murmured as the smell of the room a.s.saulted her. And blood. The smell of blood was intense. But Ahmose's woman wasn't there.

Ahmose stood in the center of the empty room and stared at the bed, covered with blood that he knew belonged to Mal. He knew it was hers, he knew the smell of her blood, her scent, it was all over this room.

"He must have taken the body away." Koen spoke the obvious.

"Why?" Eillia asked. "He was visibly affected by what he'd done. He agreed he would stay here with her, and, even through cybers.p.a.ce, I can usually influence someone with that kind of intense emotion."

"Something got to him," Ahmose said through gritted teeth. "Someone."

"Who? Who would want her body?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out." Ahmose closed his eyes. "I can't feel her. I've taken her blood, I should be able to feel her, to find her body."

"I suppose when they die, the bond is gone, too. Even if it's this recently." Eillia reached for his forearm.

"Ahmose, I'm sorry about this woman's death, but there's nothing you can do now. You need to go home. Ahmose, you can't help her now, you know that. You have a loving family waiting for you."

"Can you trace her?"

"No. Human blood is too weak, and once she's pa.s.sed, the scents begin to die quickly on the wind. It's powerful here in this room where the blood is still present, but no."

"I'm clutching at air. I know I ask too much, forgive me. I just cannot accept that she is gone."

"It's harsh, but we know better. Ahmose, come back to France with us if you're not ready to return home. We would love to have you." Eillia caught his gaze. She could see and feel how lost he felt.

Could this girl have been the one? A potential mate? If she had been, he was right, the loss would be deep and it would take a long time to recover. It was best for him to get away from these constant reminders and begin to heal.

"So there is no way to find her...body?"

"Not unless I can find the man who was with her, but I don't know who he was."