Marisa glanced at the clock as the knock came again. "Who on earth can that be?"

Grigori kissed her cheek as he rose from the sofa. "It's Ramsey."

Marisa glanced at the clock. It was almost two A.M. People did not make social calls at such an hour. Of course, for vampires, two in the morning was not considered late.

She felt a shiver of unease. Ever since his last visit, she had been troubled about Edward. She thought she might be picking it up from her husband, who, on more than one occasion, had alluded to the new vampire's unexpected power and constant mental turmoil. During the hunt for Alexi, Edward had often come to see her. It was unsettling to think of him now, roaming the night like those he had once hunted.

She heard muffled voices as Grigori opened the front door, then their footsteps: Grigori's, light, almost soundless; Ramsey's, heavier, more determined.

"Hello, Edward," she said when he entered the room.

"I'm sorry to come calling so late. Or so early."

"Vampire social hours," she said, smiling. "We were just watching an old movie."

He matched her smile, with no hint of loathing or pain. She observed him closely. He looked different somehow, though she couldn't put her finger on it. Perhaps it was just that he was "aging" as a vampire, that he was becoming more comfortable with what he was. Once, she would not have noticed him in a crowd; now, he exuded a sense of power and self-confidence that he had not possessed before.

"Please," she said, "sit down."

Ramsey sat on the love seat, his fingers drumming on the arm. Grigori resumed his place beside her on the sofa. Almost before he was settled, Ramsey stood up and began to pace.

Marisa looked at Grigori, a question in her eyes.

"Ramsey, did you come here to wear a path in our carpet?" Grigori asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

Ramsey paused in midstride to glare at Chiavari. Then, blowing out a sigh of exasperation, he sank down on the love seat again. "Khira," he said heavily. "I've angered her."

Chiavari nodded slowly. "Not a pretty sight when she's angry."

Ramsey grunted softly.

"What happened?" Marisa asked.

As quickly as possible, Ramsey related his activities with Khira: the hunt, the victim, Khira's insistence that Ramsey finish the poor devil off. He glanced at Marisa. She looked pale. How could such things bother her so much when she lived with a vampire? Vampires survived by feeding off the lives of others. Chiavari was no exception; he had fed from her on more than one occasion.

"She wanted me to kill him," Ramsey said, "but I just couldn't do it."

"So, he's still alive? That man?" Marisa asked hopefully.

"No. Khira loves killing too much to be merciful. Besides, he was too far gone..."

"There's something else," Chiavari said. "Something you are not telling us."

"The other night, she wanted me to..." Ramsey cleared his throat. "The other night..."

"Go on," Chiavari said, "What did she want you to do?"

"Soon after she got here, she took me hunting." Ramsey glanced at Marisa, then looked away. "And then she took me to bed. I don't know what I was thinking! I guess maybe I wasn't thinking. The other night, I refused." Ramsey glanced at Marisa again. "She seems to think that I belong to her now."

Grigori slid a sidelong glance at his wife and sighed heavily. "Khira does not take rejection well," he said. "As I recall, she is not accustomed to having anyone tell her no. About anything."

Ramsey nodded.

Marisa met her husband's sideways look with one eyebrow raised. "You seem to be speaking from experience."

"'Twas in another country," Grigori said, and smiled wryly. "And besides, the wench is... Do you really want me to answer that?"

"That's some kind of quote isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, from The Jew of Malta . Marlowe. Khira was determined I know all the arts, become a polished gentleman. Now, I ask you again, do you really want me to answer your question?"

"Yes," Marisa replied, and then shook her head. "No, I don't want to know."

"Khira has always been impulsive," Grigori remarked. "She is a very sexy, very sensual creature. I suspect she was that way before the Dark Gift. Totally self-absorbed. And with the power she has now..." He shrugged. "She has no need to consider anything but her own gratification. She often acts without thinking." He shook his head. "One would think she would have gained a little maturity, a little self-control, over the ages."

"She scares me," Ramsey admitted.

Chiavari chuckled softly. "Smart man. I should stay out of her way until she cools off, if I were you."

"That's my plan," Ramsey muttered. "Damn, I don't have a hope in hell of defending myself against her."

"There is an unwritten law among our kind: Vampyre does not kill Vampyre," Chiavari said.

"You killed Kristov."

"Yes. It happens from time to time. Khira killed the one who made her. And I suspect she has killed others who got in her way."

"She killed Dracul," Ramsey said. "She told him to leave town. Apparently he refused."

Chiavari nodded. "She is a law unto herself. I suspect she has destroyed LaSalle, as well. I no longer sense his presence in the city."

"He's gone. She told him she wanted his house. And he gave it to her, just like that."

"It is a wise man who gives her what she wants."

Marisa laid her hand on Grigori's arm. "Perhaps we should leave town."

"Is that your wish? To leave here?"

"No, but I don't want her coming after you."

"She has always had a, shall we say, a fondness for me," Chiavari said wryly. "I do not believe she will do me any harm."

Ramsey glanced at Marisa, then turned his attention to Chiavari once again. "She may be fond of you. But what of Marisa?"

"To harm what is mine is to harm me," Chiavari said.

"Do you think you could take her in a fight?"

"I don't know," Chiavari grunted softly. "I hope I never have to find out."

"Me, too," Ramsey said fervently.

"Be careful, Edward," Marisa said. "Promise me."

" Careful ismy middle name," he said, rising.

Chiavari stood up. "I'll see you out."

"Good night, Edward," Marisa said.

"Good night." Ramsey followed Chiavari out onto the porch. "So?"

"Be careful of Khira. She can be ruthless and utterly cruel."

Ramsey nodded. "I know. I've seen what she's capable of. I'm no match for her."

"Perhaps not yet," Grigori said, "but you are not helpless or weak. Only young in the ways of the Dark Gift. There is powerful blood in your veins, Ramsey. Mine. Alexi's. And Khira's. She will find it difficult to destroy you if you keep your wits about you. If she threatens you, reach deep down inside yourself and call on the power that is there."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"You did not need to know before. You were far too interested in being destroyed then. Now that someone else may want you dead, you seem to have a new interest in staying alive. The longer you survive, the stronger you will become. And you are surprisingly strong already. You did refuse her, after all. Twice. And you are still alive."

Ramsey stared at Chiavari, his mind reeling as he sought to understand what he'd just been told. Almost against his will, he felt a flash of hope. "Am I as powerful as she is? As you are?"

"To my knowledge, no Vampyre who still lives is as powerful as Khira. As for myself..." Grigori shrugged.

"Is there any way to keep her from reading my thoughts?"

"You can learn to guard your thoughts. It takes practice and a good deal of self-control, but it's like anything else. The more you do it, the easier it becomes."

"Can I block you, too?"

"Try."

Grigori focused on Ramsey. "You are thinking of a woman. Kelly. She sleeps in your house. You are afraid she may be in danger. From Khira. And from yourself."

"If I can't block you, how can I hope to block Khira?"

"The bond between the two of us is more immediate and therefore stronger. Try again."

Ramsey imagined himself building a wall between his mind and Chiavari's. A thick concrete wall. It took every ounce of concentration.

Chiavari laughed softly. "Well done."

Ramsey grunted.

"As I said, it will grow easier with practice. Do not hesitate to call on me if I can be of help."

"You're telling me the truth? About blocking you?"

"You did surprisingly well, considering it was your first attempt. Practice."

"I will." He hesitated, then added, "Thank you."

"Good night."

Ramsey thought about what Chiavari had told him as he walked home. He could have transported himself there with a thought, but he had always enjoyed walking. The night was cool and crisp, with a hint of fall in the air. With his vampire eyes, he saw the world so clearly -  the beauty, the ugliness.

" There is powerful blood in your veins." Chiavari's words echoed in his mind. Powerful blood . It eased his fear of Khira a little to know he wasn't completely helpless, completely at her mercy.

He let his mind expand, reached down inside himself. He could feel the power resting deep within him, waiting to be summoned. It frightened him even as it filled him with a sense of exultation.

Even if he couldn't beat her, he would give her one hell of a fight.