He stared blankly at her while she ran water into the coffeepot. "I was dreaming about them, too."

"You just said you dreamed about Julian."

"I did. First it was Liam and Felicity." He waited until she turned around and looked at him to add, "He was going to ask her to marry him."

"Did she say yes?"

"I don't know. I didn't get to that part." He squeezed his eyes closed for an instant, took a deep breath, opened them again. His voice shook as he spoke. "She was . . . she was you."

Very carefully, Tara set the coffeepot down in the coffee maker.

"Your point?"

He crossed the kitchen to stand right in front of her. Looking into his eyes, she saw, for the first time, unmistakable echoes of Liam. So she wasn't all that surprised when he ducked his head and kissed her.

She was more surprised when she kissed him back, and she was positively astonished when her hands shoved themselves inside his shirt.

His skin was warm and smooth under her fingers, and she let herself explore higher, clutching the muscles of his back where they dipped into the groove of his spine. His tongue pressed against hers, hot and urgent, and she responded. The dreams, she realized, had left her wanting this. Aching for it. She wrapped a leg around his, and he lifted a hand, cupping her breast.

Suddenly he broke off, pushing away. "Tara, I'm sorry."

She pressed her fingers into his back, pulling him against her.

"Why?"

"This is inappropriate."

"Am I your patient?"

"No."

"Am I related to any of your patients, as of this evening?"

He smiled ruefully. "No."

"Do you want me?"

The smile faded. "Yes."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is, none of this is real."

"It feels real to me." She bumped herself against him, pressing her breasts into his chest. "I think you're overanalyzing."

Gently, he took her by the shoulders and pushed her away, at the same time taking a backward step. "I can't act on this. I feel like I'd be manipulating you because of dreams I don't even understand."

"What's to understand? You know the whole reincarnation drill thingie. I was her. You were him. We were lovers. We could be that again."

"But how can that be true when there are vampires in the dreams?

You and I both know vampires aren't real."

"Maybe you know it."

He stared at her in silence.

She stared back. "I think," she said slowly, "that I might be falling in love with you. But I need answers to a few questions before I decide if I can let you into my life."

"What questions?"

"Some very, very weird and difficult ones. Do you think you're up for it?"

"I don't know."

"Well let's find out."

She finished brewing the coffee, and then they sat at her small kitchen table. Tara would have preferred to sit on the couch, but she was afraid that if she got too comfortable, she would just fall asleep and accomplish nothing. She let Gray take a few sips of coffee and get settled before she hit him with the first question.

"In your professional opinion, why was Julian in our dreams?"

Gray shrugged. "Maybe it was a projection of my resentment about his taking Daniel's case out of my hands."

Tara prodded. "But you mentioned him in your regression journal.

The vampire who rescued Liam and Felicity."

Frowning, Gray seemed to look for enlightenment in the depths of the coffee cup. "The description in the journal was vague, and I don't remember the actual session very well." He cleared his throat. "Sometimes, in the dream I had tonight, Felicity looked like you, so, sure, maybe I was seeing Julian Cavanaugh's former identity."

"Closer."

Gray looked at her, eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I'm sorry. You have a particular answer in mind, here?"

"I have a particular answer in mind because this is one case where I know more about what's going on than you do."

"You're sure about that?"

"I'm positive." She pushed her coffee cup away, no longer interested in its bitter contents. It had to be the worst coffee she'd ever made. "If Julian was there, he was there. And he was Julian. The same Julian you met last night." She shrugged. "Well, not quite, but close."

"Your ex-husband."

"He's not my husband, ex or otherwise." Watching Gray slug down half of the horrible coffee without a blink, Tara figured he had to be completely befuddled.

Finally coming up for air, he said, "If Cavanaugh didn't appear in the dream as a representation of who he was in a past life-" He broke off. "You're saying he was the same person. That he's a hundred and fifty, two hundred years old."

"Actually, he's quite a bit older than that, but yes."

"That's impossible."

"You dreamed about vampires. Vampires are immortal."

"You're trying to tell me Julian is a vampire?"

Never mind trying to explain Julian's not-quite-vampire status.

She offered Gray a definitive "Yes."

He came to his feet in a lurch, shoving a hand through his hair.

"You're insane."

"Am I? You know what you saw in your dreams, and you know what those dreams are. You just don't want to admit it to yourself."

His face was set into hard lines. "There is absolutely no way I can possibly believe anything you're saying. It just can't be true. There's no way."

"Gray-"

Just then the front door opened and Daniel came in. "Hey, Tara,"

he called, his voice exuberant. "I just talked to Dr. Greene. I'm gonna do it. Tomorrow. He sent me home with one last celebratory bag o'

blood when I told him how I was afraid I might kill puppies-" He stopped in the kitchen doorway, one hand raised high, holding a hospital bag full of garnet liquid.

Tara stared at him, fighting the urge to burst into hysterical laughter.

He stood for a few seconds looking at Gray. Then, slowly, he lowered his hand. "Ha ha," he said. "Just kidding."

Gray turned on Tara, fury filling his face. "You! You did this to him! How could you pervert a child this way? What kind of monster are you?"

The words hurt. Tara blinked back tears. "Gray, you don't understand-"

"Hey, Gray," said Daniel, and when Gray turned to face him, he added, "Don't you talk to my mother like that, you stupid prick." And with that, Daniel shot upward and slugged him in the jaw.

Gray dropped like a rock.

Tara put her hands over her face. "Oh, my God." She looked at Daniel, who was eyeing Gray's prone body smugly. "What do we do now?" she said.

"Can I eat him?"

"No! That's not funny," Tara chastised. Thinking quickly, she said, "We're taking him to Julian."

Gray drifted slowly back into consciousness. His jaw hurt. It took him a moment to remember what had happened, although the memory only confused him further. How the hell had a ten-year-old boy hit him hard enough to knock him unconscious?

Then, around him, he heard voices. He opened his eyes and tried to roll toward the sounds, but he couldn't. He was bound hand and foot, lying flat on his back, on the floor. He turned his head. Tara, Daniel, and Julian Cavanaugh stood a few feet away, talking. The room smelled odd, and the decor reminded him of displays he'd seen at the museum of ancient African art.

"Where am I?" he said.

The others turned. Cavanaugh looked at Tara, then stepped toward him.

"You're awake." He dropped to the floor, sitting with his legs crossed. "How do you feel?"

"Confused." Gray slanted a look at Daniel. "My face hurts."

"Good," said the boy.

"Daniel." Tara gave him a sharp look and shook her head, causing his grin to fade-but not completely.

"Dr. DeAngelo," Julian said. "We appear to have a slight problem here. I need to know if you want to try to solve it."

"Maybe if you'd untie me I could consider my options a little more clearly."

Cavanaugh studied him closely, then loosened the knots binding his hands. "There. Why don't you sit up so we can talk?"

"Feet, too, would be nice."

Cavanaugh looked over his shoulder at Tara, apparently seeking her opinion.

"No," she said. "He can't be running off."

"He wouldn't get far," Daniel put in. "He doesn't know his way out. Someone would eat him before he even got close to figuring out where he was going."

"Where the hell am I?" Gray demanded. "What are you people doing to me?"

"We don't want to hurt you," said Tara. "We just can't risk you hurting us."

"Could somebody please untie my damned feet?" When their three faces remained set, he let out a beleaguered sigh. "C'mon. I won't run.

I really don't want some nutcase to kill me."

"We're not nutcases," Daniel said. "You just smell like food."

God, what a creepy little kid. Gray was beginning to think he was beyond any psychiatrist's ability to rehabilitate. "Are you in on this, too, Cavanaugh? Have you been part of whatever horrible thing has been done to this little boy?"

Julian looked grim. "What was done to Daniel was done a very long time ago. I had nothing to do with it. What we're doing now is attempting to correct that wrong. You were part of the solution. You still could be."

"I don't understand."

"If you promise not to run and not to try to hurt any of us, we'll explain. Then you can decide what you want to do."

The sincerity in the other man's face made Gray wonder, just for a moment, if there might be something going on here that he was simply incapable of understanding. Then he looked at Tara and realized, if that were the case and it meant she were innocent, then he wanted to hear their explanation. "All right. I won't run. No point in making myself a meal on the go."

Daniel's cold smile made him queasy. He'd seemed like a normal kid a couple of days ago.

Gray's attention shifted as Cavanaugh leaned over to untie his legs, saying, "Come with me. We'll go to the office. Daniel, you might want to get going. Sunrise is in about an hour."

Daniel nodded and headed for the door. "Shoulda let me eat him,"

he said, and grinned. Gray blinked at the long, feral fangs that had suddenly appeared next to the boy's oversized permanent teeth. "He woulda tasted good."