"Menolly D'Artigo, do you choose to walk the realms of the worlds, bound only to yourself and the gods to whom you have made oath, forsaking the path laid out to you by your sire?"

"I do." A shriek rose up and I suddenly felt Dredge starting to stir. "Hurry, he's noticing!"

"Stay where you are. He only senses a disturbance. Don't feed him with your fear." Jareth knelt behind me, his right hand on my shoulder, his left holding the dagger. "Menolly D'Artigo, do you refute Dredge's right to claim you? Do you renounce your sire?"

And this was the end. I could feel it. My answer to this question would turn me into a pariah among traditional vamps—they'd know I'd turned traitor. But then again, once I killed Dredge, I'd be doubly damned in their eyes.

"I renounce Dredge. I refute him. I banish him from my life. I forever revoke his right to connect with me or my path."

As I spoke, Jareth plunged the dagger into the back of my neck, directly into the center of the cord that bound me to the monster of my nightmares, to my maker and sire.

The blade entered clean, but the pain of the cord breaking was beyond anything I'd experienced since the night Dredge turned me. All of my anger and pain, all of his lust and greed, coiled up like a maddened serpent and turned on me. I could see it hovering, ready to strike, but then Jareth drew a runic symbol in the air between the snake and me. The creature let out a deafening shriek and exploded in a red cloud. I wavered, then as Jareth yanked the blade out of my neck, fell sideways, landing on the cold marble.

Jareth knelt down and gathered me in his arms. I grimaced. For the first time in years, my body ached. As he lifted me up and carried me out of the circle and over to a bench, I wondered if I'd be less powerful without Dredge shoring me up.

"Is first light coming?" I whispered, exhausted.

"No, you've still got a while before the sun rises, but you've been through what amounts to major surgery on your psyche. You need to regain strength. I'll make sure you all make it home safely, but before you go, you must drink."

"I can't hunt; I'm too tired," I said.

"You need fresh blood. Reserve won't do." Jareth pulled his robe away from his shoulders and knelt beside me. "Drink. You won't be able to hurt me. Take what you need. I've done this before."

I stared at him. "You want me to drink from you?" He'd saved my butt. In fact he may have saved all our lives. "I can't just treat you like a juice box after all you've done."

"Drink. I will shore you up until you regain your strength. You don't really have a choice. At this point, if you don't drink, you could die."

He hadn't mentioned that as one of the side effects. I blinked, looking over at Camille, who said, "For once in your life, just obey without asking questions. Jareth said to drink, so drink."

I cleared my throat. "Only if you and Morio leave. I don't want you to watch me feeding."

She nodded, silently assenting. Jareth motioned to the other two participants in the ritual who had guarded the elemental gates. "Take them into the preparation room. I'll call you when we're done."

As soon as they'd left the room, I said, "Jareth, I need you to sit by me. I'm too weak to stand."

He settled in beside me on the bench, the pale skin of his neck enticing and wan. "You don't get out in the sun much, do you?" I asked, attempting to break the tension. I gazed up at him. "You say you've played blood host to a vampire before?" Monk from the Order of the Crystal Dagger or not, I had to make sure he knew what he was getting into.

He let out a long sigh. "Many years ago, long before you were born, I was engaged to a woman named Cassandra. She was a vampire. The villagers near the monastery staked her. That's when I left the Tygerian Mountains and came here." There was no tremor in his voice, no change of expression, but I read the world into the little lines that appeared around his lips when he said her name.

Cassandra. I wondered what she'd looked like, who she'd been, why he'd loved her so much he'd take a chance on marrying her. But I asked none of those questions. His memories were none of my business. His pain wasn't mine to excavate and expose.

"Then you understand the beauty of blood." A statement, not a question.

Jareth nodded. "More than you think. Drink. Restore your strength. I can take care of myself, and I trust you to know when to stop."

His trust was a gift. I would not abuse it. I shifted over to straddle his lap and felt his erection as I gazed into his eyes. Could I? Dare I? He'd given me back my life, in a way. He'd given me freedom. The least I could do was give him a taste of bliss since he was saving my life. "Jareth, listen to me. I'm going to drink from you now. Let me kiss your throat, my dear." I put the full force of my charm into the words.

Jareth's eyes glazed over and it was obvious he'd let down his guard or I wouldn't have been able to mesmerize him. "Drink me," he whispered. "Drink me deep, Menolly."

And I did. My lips met the pale flesh that waited so patiently. I licked his neck with a slow, long stroke, and he moaned gently as my fangs extended, tickling him with their tips. I focused on passion, on bringing all the sensuality of the moment that I could to the surface.

"Feel no pain," I whispered. "Feel only joy."

He shuddered as I punctured his skin, my fangs sinking deep, stimulating the blood flow. As the drops welled up and began to trickle down his neck, I withdrew, then pressed my lips against him, sucking hard, drinking from the well of life that sprang up from his veins.

Jareth gasped as I sucked harder, the hot fluid pouring down my throat, sustaining me up, lifting me out of the stupor I'd fallen into. I pressed him back so that he lay on the bench. His robe fell away, leaving him exposed, hard and firm, pale and throbbing.

My lips never leaving his neck, I shimmied out of my jeans and climbed astride, sinking on the length of his desire. This was the first time since Dredge that a man had been inside me, the first time since Dredge I'd allowed myself to think I might be able to even stand a man's touch.

His body pulsated with magic. Jareth began to thrust against my hips as I continued to drink. Pure as life, pure as death, blood and sex met in a passionate embrace as we made love, and with every moment, my strength grew, the energy racing through my veins. Jareth clutched the sides of my hips, guiding me, begging me not to stop.

As images strove to flicker up—Dredge in me, Dredge staring down at me—I pushed them away, focusing on Jareth. Jareth, who was helping me reclaim my soul. Jareth, who walked into the fire with me. Jareth, who willingly offered me his blood so that I might live. And then, sensing that he was reaching his limit as a blood host, I pulled away, my braids clicking in the room that was silent save only for the sound of our desire.

"Menolly, Menolly, don't leave me hanging, don't leave me…" Jareth flipped me over onto my back and I didn't fight him. He spread my legs, hovering as he sought for my center, desperate to find something he'd lost long, long ago.

I let him lead me, but my mind was still trying to throw up barricades.

In an impassioned plea, he held my face between his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye. "Let go, let go of your reserve. Let go of it. I'm not Dredge. You don't have to put up walls with me. And you won't become a monster, I promise you that. Do you hear me? You can let go, Menolly," he whispered. "You can let go of all the fear."

For the second time in so many days, I lowered my shields, gave up control, and spiraled into the darkness of orgasm, and the peace that comes with release.

After dressing, I was almost ready to go. Camille and Morio politely avoided asking me how things had gone. I had to hand it to her, Camille knew when to be discreet.

Before leaving, I remembered to ask about the Aqualine Crystal for Iris. Jareth obligingly gave us one of the sky blue spikes, wrapped in a black velvet bag.

"How much do we owe you?" I asked.

He waved aside my question. "Forget it. You probably couldn't afford it anyway. If she's a priestess of Undutar, then she'll make good use of this. Now you should go. First light will soon arrive."

We didn't say anything about our interlude. Sometimes words are inadequate. As we headed toward the main temple hall, I wondered if I'd ever see him again. Perhaps… perhaps not. We'd been through such an intense few hours, why dilute the experience?

As we entered the great hall, Jareth stopped us. "I have someone to send home with you. I warn you, and I'm serious about this, don't ask any questions until you're back Earthside. There are spies everywhere, and the last thing you need is more trouble."

"Not a problem," I said. "I trust you." And then a rush of gratitude swept over me. Against my nature, I threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. "How can I ever thank you? I'm free of Dredge. I can go up against him now."

"I'm glad I could help," Jareth said softly. "But don't ever underestimate him, Menolly. He's dangerous. And when he realizes you've broken the bond, he's going to be furious." He kissed my forehead. "If you ever come back this way, look me up. Trust me, we live a long, long time here in Aladril. I'll be here. Now because time is slipping by quickly, I'm going to transport you to the portal. I want you to close your eyes and hold hands."

A little uneasy, I obeyed. Camille was used to magic. Once she'd gotten used to the energy of the temple, she seemed right at home. But I still wasn't comfortable. The sound of a rushing wind gusted past and the world lurched under our feet. I squeezed Camille's hand so tightly she gasped.

Before I could loosen my grip, everything settled back into place and we opened our eyes. We were standing outside the portal in the woods, facing the same three guards who'd greeted us when we arrived.

They silently took our necklaces back and escorted us into the shrine.

"Master Jareth said for you to take this man with you. Don't ask questions. Don't even speak to him until you return home."

Waiting for us was the hooded monk who had wielded the ruby in the temple during the ritual. He kept silent. We didn't push it. Jareth was on our side and if there was a reason he wanted the priest to return Earthside with us, we'd have to trust him. In silence, we entered the portal, crossing back to Elqaneve where Trenyth met us. With first light not far away, he promised to take his report through the Whispering Mirror and sent us home.

As we emerged into Grandmother Coyote's forest, I glanced at the sky. Less than an hour before the sun rose. Even from behind the clouds and falling snow, the light would burn me to cinders. The pull of the dawn was hell, I could barely keep my eyes open as we hurried to Morio's SUV.

Camille glanced at our cloaked guest. "Who are you?"

"Never mind that for now," I said. "I need to get home."

"She's right," Morio said. "Don't worry, you'll find out his name soon enough."

Camille cocked her head, a curious look on her face. "You know?"

Morio shrugged. "Jareth and I had a long talk while you were helping Menolly." He fell silent again and no amount of cajoling could get him to open up as we climbed in the car. Our guest stared at the SUV for a moment before following suit. Whoever he was, I had a feeling he'd never been Earthside.,

At the house, Delilah was waiting, along with Chase, Iris, and Nerissa. After I shut the door behind us, I whirled around to our new friend. "Okay, I don't have much time before I have to sleep and I'm not going to wait until tonight to find out just who you are. Cloak, off."

The man slowly reached up and pulled away his hood. Camille gasped as Delilah gave a loud shout.

"Well, who is he?" Chase asked impatiently.

"Shamas! It's our cousin Shamas!" Camille sputtered. "We thought you were gone for good!" She sprang forward and threw her arms around the tall, black-haired man who shared her pale skin, raven hair, and violet eyes.

Shamas, who had been fighting for Tanaquar against the Opium-Eater, had been captured by Lethesanar and sentenced to death a month ago. He'd managed to escape when a triad of monks were sent by Tanaquar to assassinate him before he hit the torture chamber. At least that way he'd die without too much pain. But somehow Shamas had managed to grab hold of their energy and use it for his own purposes—namely to get the hell out of Dodge. He'd vanished and nobody had heard from—or of—him since.

"Shamas! How did you… why… how did this happen?" I couldn't believe my eyes. "When you escaped from Queen Lethesanar, we all thought you might have imploded or something."

Our cousin laughed, but his voice was raw and strained. "Camille, Delilah, Menolly… it's so good to see your faces. I wasn't sure I'd ever see any of my family again until I crossed over to our ancestors." He shrugged off the robe, revealing a too thin body, with the pale sheen of healed scars lacing his arms. So Lethesanar had started on him before the triad of monks had intervened.

"Let the man sit down," I said. "Can't you see he's exhausted? Are you hungry, Shamas? Would you like something to eat?"

He rubbed his forehead, squinting. "I'm overwhelmed, that's all. So much has happened in the past few weeks." As we led him into the living room, he added, "I'd love a cup of tea or some broth."

Iris took the matter firmly in hand. "Soup it is, and tea, and some fresh, hot bread. You're far too thin. And you look so tired. Girls, get him a blanket and a pillow and settle him in the recliner. I assume your wounds have already healed and don't need treatment?" Iris didn't mince words.