"I'm a powerful man, Mr. Heart. With powerful connections."

"That much is obvious," Jack said, with a pointed glance around the room. "Clearly all this wasn't acquired on a state senator's salary." The senator chose to ignore that remark. "Suffice it to say I had enough influence to ensure that my sterility was never recorded in the public doc.u.ments, but the judge was aware of it." He returned his full attention to Topaz. "I wish you had been mine. I honestly do. And if it will put your mind at ease and help you in your quest for the truth, I'll gladly cooperate with DNA testing.

h.e.l.l, I'll even pay for it."

Jack knew it wasn't necessary. The man wasn't too tough to read, and he knew Topaz was picking up on the same things he was.

Ramirez was telling the truth. Jack saw the disappointment in her eyes and felt a rush of emotion that was totally unlike him.

He cleared his throat, forced his gaze back to the senator. "What do you know about the murder, Mr. Ramirez?"

Ramirez dropped his gaze. "It's been a long time, but it's etched in my memory. I loved her, you know. I wanted to marry her, but she wouldn't be tied to any one man. She was such a free spirit. I always suspected that one of the men she was seeing killed her in a jealous rage. But the police investigated thoroughly and, while I hate to say it, Tanya, if they failed to find the guilty party, I don't hold out much hope that you'll be able to."

"Maybe not," she said. "But I have to try."

He nodded. "I will tell you this. I had no reason to wish her harm. None. I wouldn't have hurt her for the world. I even put up a substantial reward for information at the time."

Topaz glanced at Jack, met his eyes. He's not lying.

I know.

"Do you have any theories about what might have happened to her body?"

"That was a desecration. I don't know. Some crazed fan. Some obsessed lover. I just don't know, Tanya."

The telephone shrilled once, then stopped. A moment later, the butler was back, poking his head in. "It's the governor, sir."

Ramirez nodded, held up a hand for patience and addressed Topaz. "Is there anything else you want to ask me?"

"I have something," Jack said, when she shook her head. "Right after Tanya arrived here and the tabloids blasted their gossip about her mission, the house where she's staying was broken into. Possibly by someone very nervous about what we might have learned. Do you know anything about that?"

Ramirez's brows drew together. "I know it's not a good sign. Tanya, it could be that the killer is still nearby, living locally, close enough to be a threat to you." Then he shot his attention Jack's way. "I can get you some Secret Service people. Talk to the police and see to it you have-"

"That won't be necessary," Jack said. "Believe me, I can protect her."

Topaz shot him a quick glare. Jack grinned. He really did know her well, he thought. "Let me amend that. She can protect herself.

I'm just the backup."

Topaz rose from the sofa, so Jack and the senator got up as well. "Go ahead and take your call, Senator. We have what we came for," she said. "Thank you for taking the time."

"If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to call. I'll instruct my staff that any calls from you are to be put straight through to me."

"That's kind of you."

"It was wonderful meeting you, Tanya. I hope I'll see you again." Then he glanced at the butler. "Rodney, show our guests out."

"You're disappointed," Jack said, as he drove them back toward the mansion.

"Yeah, kind of. He seemed like a decent person."

"'Seemed' being the operative word. There is that bit about him accepting contributions from mob bosses."

She nodded. But her face was shaded with sadness, and he found he couldn't stand to see it there. Odd. Empathy had never been a strong point of his. Still, he was compelled to distract her from her sadness.

"You never told me your story, Topaz."

"Which story would that be?"

"The story of your transformation. Who made you and when, and how it came about."

She slanted him a sideways glance. "You really want to know?"

Oddly enough, he did, and he told her so.

She shrugged and shifted in her seat a little, leaning back as if getting comfortable. "There's not a lot to tell, but I suppose it's one of the more unusual makeovers you'll hear about."

"Makeover, huh? That's a cute way of putting it."

"Yeah, I'm a cute person." She shrugged. "When I turned twenty-five, I got control of my own money for the first time. And there was a lot of it. By then I was well aware that my father-the man who'd raised me-was more interested in my fortune than in me. I'd been living with that knowledge for years. In fact, it seemed to me then that everyone in my life who was supposed to love me only cared about my money."

Regret burned through his veins and straight into his heart. He'd been one more in a long line of those who had used her.

"I was sick by then. The belladonna antigen's effects were kicking my a.s.s. I was depressed, tired all the time, lethargic, weak, dizzy. The doctors knew what caused it, said it was par for the course. But they said there was no known treatment, much less a cure. I was basically told I wouldn't live far past thirty."

"And you knew nothing about what else that antigen meant-that you could live forever?"

"No, I didn't know there even were vampires, back then."

"Well, few people do." He was watching her face, glancing at it often while driving. He'd meant to distract her from her sadness, but it seemed to him that this conversation was only making her sadder than ever. Maybe he should change the subject, but she was into her story and he didn't know how.

"I decided to take off," she said. "I decided to take every bit of money I had and just blow it all. I was going to party until I dropped."

"I suppose you needed to rebel."

"I hated that money. Because of it, I thought I would never find anyone who could love me for just me. I went to Mexico. A resort on the Gulf Coast. I spent six months there, most of them so drunk I could barely walk. And it took its toll on my body. I think I shortened my life expectancy to almost nothing-to absolutely nothing, in the end. I got weaker and weaker. I barely ate, I just drank and partied and had s.e.x with anyone who wanted me." "That would have included anyone who saw you."

She sent him a quick look, and he thought her lips tightened slightly at the corners, as if a smile were lurking just beneath the surface. A sad one. But it pleased him that he'd elicited it with his compliment. He had never given her enough of those, he realized.

"One night I staggered out of a cantina and into the street, and just collapsed there. I could feel myself dying, I think. I thought so at the time, anyway. I thought it was all over. And my only regret was that I hadn't managed to put much of a dent in my inheritance, so some undeserving a.s.shole would probably end up with all of it."

"You were suicidal," he said. "Only instead of a gun, you were using a bottle."

"Many bottles," she corrected.

"So what happened?"

"It's a blur. I only remember it in small bits, like a puzzle with most of its pieces missing. I remember a woman gathering me up from the dust and into her arms. It seemed odd, how easily she lifted me. I didn't weigh much at that point, but she wasn't much bigger than I was. I remember her breath on my throat. Her hands were so soft, and so cold. And her voice was just a whisper, but one that got through to me and gave me comfort, somehow. When I woke, I was in my bed in the room I had rented. The windows had all been completely covered. I felt so different. Not sick or weak, but strong and powerful, strong like I'd never felt, even before I got sick."

"It's a rush in the beginning, isn't it?" Jack asked.

She nodded.

"And the woman who brought you over?" Jack asked.

"Gone," she whispered. "All she left me was a note."

He was turning the car into the driveway of Avalon by then. And even as he shut it off and killed the headlights, Topaz was digging in her handbag. She pulled out an old-fashioned silver cigarette case, with the initials MD engraved on its face.

"Was that your mother's?" he asked.

"Yeah. I've had it forever. I never smoked, so I use it to keep special things in." She opened it, and though she kept it turned toward her, he glimpsed the little cards that had been attached to the flowers he'd sent her on occasion when they were dating.

She'd kept them. G.o.d, he really had meant something to her once.

"Here it is." She took out a folded sheet of paper and snapped the case closed, returning it to her purse. "You want to read it?"

He nodded, and she handed it to him. He unfolded it there in the dark, intimate interior of the car. He didn't need lights to see. He glanced at the resort stationery, and then at the elegant scrawl of the handwriting.

Dear Fledgling, I'm very sorry that I have to leave you to learn of your new nature on your own, but I had no choice. So I'm leaving you this note to tell you the most important things, the ones you need to know in order to survive. When I found you last night, you were near death. You would not have seen another day, and though I could not manage to get your consent, I did what I sensed you would want, had you been given the choice. I made you into what I am-a vampire.

You are stronger now than any human, and that strength will only increase with age. Your senses are enhanced. You can read thoughts, and send them, and control the minds of others, given time and practice. And you must drink blood to survive. It needn't come from humans, or even living beings. Blood banks and animals will suffice. But food and ordinary beverages are no longer an option. Your body cannot and will not tolerate them.

You must never expose yourself to direct sunlight. You will sleep during the day, whether you want to or not. You are highly flammable, so be very careful around fire. And you can bleed out with ease. Those are the ways you can die.

Any injuries you sustain will heal with the day sleep. So if you can stanch the blood flow of a potentially mortal wound just until the sun rises, you will survive.

Pain is magnified. But so is pleasure.

Only humans with the belladonna antigen can become vampires. We all had it. As vampires now, we sense those humans who possess it, and we are compelled to watch over and protect them.

Those are the things you need to know. I wish you a long, powerful and happy life-eternal.

Jack refolded the paper and handed it back to her. "She didn't even sign it."

"No. And she abandoned me. But I was used to abandonment by then. And at least she didn't take my wallet with her when she left."

He winced at the barb. "I probably deserved that."

She only shrugged, making no move to get out of the car.

"You know, our stories aren't all that different," he said.

She said nothing, just sat still, waiting, so he went on. "My father died when I was a kid. I don't even remember him. My mother was a drunk, pretty much worthless. I raised myself, for the most part. When I was eight, she dropped me off at her brother's for an afternoon and never came back."

Her head lifted slowly, her gaze turning to focus on his. "You were abandoned, too?"

"Yeah. And Uncle Frank was none too happy about it-not at first, anyway. But I was a smart kid. See, Uncle Frank was a confidence man, old school. I picked up on that, and one day, when we were in the park, I made sure he was watching and then went up to some kind-looking woman with a broken waffle cone I'd found on the ground. I cried about how I'd used my last fifty cents to buy an ice cream, only to have it fall apart and melt on the ground. She handed me a dollar, patted me on the head and told me to go get another."

She was gaping now, lips slightly parted, eyes wide.

"Proudest moment in my life was when I walked up to Uncle Frank and handed him that crisp dollar bill. I remember how it smelled, and how he smiled as he took it. Then he took me by the hand-first time he'd ever done that. And he said, 'Boy, I think this just might work out after all, you and me.'"

"And you've been conning people ever since," she said softly.

"Women. I've been conning women ever since. Mostly."

She shook her head slowly, reached for the car door, pushed it open.

"If I'd known then what I know now, Topaz, about you and your past, I never would have conned you."

"That's not the question, though, is it?" she replied. She got out of the car, closed the door and walked toward the house.

He followed quickly and caught up. "If that's not the question, then what is?" She stopped walking and looked up at him. "You don't know?"

"No. Tell me." The wind was moving her hair gently, and the stars seemed to reflect in her eyes.

"The question is," she said, her voice softer than before, "without the con, would you even have given me the time of day? Would you have bothered with me at all?"

He blinked and decided honesty might be the best course here. "I was looking for a mark, Topaz. Not a romance."

She turned away, moving toward the house again.

Again he caught up, then opened the door before she could and let her go inside ahead of him.

"But if I were looking for...that...you'd be the one."

"Not anymore I wouldn't."

Her cell phone rang before either of them could speak again. Jack had a lump in his throat and a knot in his chest, and he was d.a.m.ned if he knew why. He'd been honest. He wasn't looking for love, hadn't been looking for it in the past when he'd met her, and he sure as h.e.l.l wasn't looking for it now. It would be pointless to look for something that didn't exist.

She yanked out her phone, glanced at the screen, then flipped it open. "Reaper?"

And then she listened, and as she did, her eyes met Jack's again. But it wasn't hurt that shone from their depths this time, and it wasn't the sparkle of nighttime stars. It was suspicion.

6.

"We're being followed again," Reaper said.

"Are you sure?" Topaz wasn't as much surprised as she was worried. "I thought you said you'd lost them."

"We had. That's the point. Someone must have tipped them off to our location. And the only people I told were our people. You, Seth and Vixen, Roxy and Ilyana."