Sheltzer had been the jardin's leader for more than a hundred years, and his loss had terrified his people enough to scatter and drive them underground for three decades. Only when they felt it was safe enough to reintegrate into society did the Chicago Darkyn regroup and timidly petition Richard for a new suzerain. Richard had taken Cyprien's suggestion and sent Valentin Jaus to Chicago.

Jaus understood what fear was. He had led thousands of men into battle, and knew that while fear could not be destroyed, it could be trained and channeled. When he came to take over Chicago, he deliberately used the jardin's fears to bind them together in order to train them. The Darkyn were gradually transformed from paranoid followers into paranoid soldiers. Which was what Cyprien knew he would do.

"May I summon my staff?" Jaus was saying.

As seigneur apparent, it was expected for Michael to inspect the suzerain's staff, and observe a hundred other formalities. Michael, however, felt suddenly weary and in no mood for the usual pomp and ceremony. "I would rather have a word with you in private, Valentin."

Val seemed startled, but nodded and said something in guttural German to the four guards, who retreated. "Let us go and walk down by the water." He led Michael through the house and out to a wide, paved garden path.

The two men followed the decorative cobblestone edging lush beds of camellias down to the edge of the enormous lake, where the rippling, black surface toyed with reflections from the lights of the city. Although the bodyguards had melted into the shadows, Michael could sense them nearby. They would not listen in to the conversation, but they would not leave their suzerain completely unprotected.

Paranoia has its uses. "How have things been for you, Val?"

"Better than they were twenty years ago. The Brethren never extracted anything from Sheltzer, and we do not challenge them or draw attention to ourselves. The Kyn have many profitable concerns here. The jardin thrives." There was a small amount of irony in that last statement, as Val had spent most of his extended life as a warrior, not a leader. "It was you who suggested Richard send me here, was it not? Considering how many times we have faced each other's lances on the field, I thought it an unusual recommendation, to say the least."

Before becoming a suzerain, Valentin Jaus had spent most of his extended life, like Michael, following the path of the warrior. Long ago, in England, he had ridden against Michael during many of Richard's tourneys. The fact that he always lost to Michael had never stopped him from battling yet again. But Michael knew him to be a quiet, intelligent man as well as an efficient, cold-blooded strategist.

"In some respects, perhaps, but we have never been true enemies. Only opponents." Michael smiled a little. "You hold steady, Val, and that is what I need here in America."

"I shall try not to disappoint your trust. You have seen the Keller woman." It was not a question, but he added, "My people have been watching over her since she was admitted to the hospital."

"I appreciate your caution."

"We serve." He paused, and only very reluctantly added, "I have said nothing to my people about the few details your seneschal related, Michael, but it is obvious she is yet human. How could she have escaped the curse?"

"I don't know." Michael had his own doubts about the validity of the Darkyn curse anyway, but Val was a traditionalist, and he had no desire to start an argument.

"I have made the usual arrangements with our people in the hospital, the media, and the police department to control information and change records. There will be no exposure. I must confess, however, that this female… confounds me."

Michael's mouth hitched. "I don't know what to make of her, either."

"Had one of mine called her to rapture, and she emerged thus, I would have had her killed immediately." There was a flat warning behind that brutal statement, and the smell of camellias intensified for a moment. "But she is yours, not mine."

Michael knew what he was implying. If he ever released Alexandra from his protection, Val would follow through on his threat. For a moment, he was tempted. He would be free of Alexandra without having to kill her himself. It would make his life much less complicated. He had even told her that he would be the death of her.

I am killing you, Alexandra.

Could you love me a little first?

"No good can come of this." Val studied his expression closely. "You already know she is trouble, my friend."

"Yes, but whether or not she escapes our curse, she is mine." He stopped at the waist-high wall of stone and sandbags that kept back the lake water.

"As I will be, when Richard makes you seigneur."

Michael gave him an amused glance. "You are a lord paramount. When I am empowered, you will owe me your loyalty, nothing more."

"Ah, but I am a simple man at heart, you know this. With me, it is all or nothing." Val made it sound inconsequential. "Dundellan is very far away, and Richard has given America little attention. My first loyalty is to you, and I will take oath on it."

That meant that in all matters Val would defer to Michael over Richard Tremayne. It was not a pledge a man like Jaus made lightly. "I am honored."

"I speak for most of the suzerains, who feel as I do. You have earned your place over les jardins, Michael, and we are anxious for you to take it." His clipped voice took on a harder edge. "We will see that you hold and keep it."

Michael wondered what would compel Val to make such fervent pledges, and then he simply knew. "Lucan."

"Yes. He slaughtered a Brethren cell in Ireland and was banished by the high lord. He arrived the next day in New York, and promptly vanished." Val nudged a stone on the ground with the toe of his boot. "A search is under way. I have photos, but I think that they will be of little value now. The man is a chameleon."

Lucan was also Richard's chief assassin. "Unless he chooses to reveal his whereabouts, they won't find him." Michael braced a hand against the lake wall and looked up at the full moon. "You believe that Lucan will come to New Orleans."

"I think—ja, he will. He has hated you longer than I have walked as Kyn."

Lucan presented yet another obstacle. Michael turned to face Val. "I must impose on you to watch over the doctor for me for a little longer. Report any changes in her behavior to me at once."

"It is done. Do you think she will walk with us?" Despite his belief in the curse, there was a yearning note in Val's voice, one that found an echo in Michael's soul.

When the Darkyn first rose from the grave, they were able to proliferate through blood exposure during thrall and rapture. It was a dire but necessary thing, done to replace those the church slaughtered, for the Darkyn soon learned that the curse upon them prevented them from having children. Only after a century had passed did the humans they attempted to turn begin dying. Soon no human survived the experience, and for the first time, the Darkyn faced the loneliness of the curse, and their own eventual extinction.

The fact that they could not create more of their own kind had contributed to the formation of the first jardins and the practice of suppressing thrall and rapture, and had ultimately shaped how the Darkyn lived. In many ways, the loosely knit, regional communities who looked out for each other and the humans upon whom they fed had been a success. Despite all their care, however, the Brethren continued to hunt them, and over the centuries the number of Darkyn slowly dwindled. Michael doubted there were more than ten thousand of their kind left in the world.

Given that they were virtually immortal, perhaps that was the way it was supposed to be. "If she does make the change, it would be better if Richard not know."

"You may have better luck joining the priesthood than keeping such a miracle from our seigneur. Which reminds me." Val grimaced. "Your doctor has a brother, Michael."

"I know. A priest." Yet another bizarre twist to the entire situation. "My people have checked into his records. Aside from a moral indiscretion in South America, he presents no threat."

"Perhaps not, but I have had him watched, as well." He looked out over the lake. "John Keller has made arrangements to leave the country in three days."

"His destination?" But before Val could reply, Michael already knew the answer. "Rome."

"The Brethren have gotten to him." Val extracted a cell phone from his jacket breast pocket. "I will have the doctor picked up and brought here." He paused, looked over Cyprien's shoulder, and nodded. One of his guards strode up and issued a curt report in their native language. Slowly Val pocketed the phone. "It is Tremayne. He has sent a summons to come at once to Dundellan."

Richard's summons were not polite invitations but orders; there was never any avenue for discussion. "Why would he want you over there now?"

"He does not." Val gave him what might have been a sympathetic look. "The summons is for you."

Alex had been a missing person, so the police were happy to come out and take her statement. They didn't laugh, because like her, they were convinced she had been the victim of a serial killer, one who possibly believed he was a vampire. The FBI was contacted, as were a number of other agencies.

That opinion changed forty-eight hours later, when the detective in charge of the investigation came to see Alex at her home, where she was being guarded around the, clock.

"Dr. Keller, we're running into a few problems tracking down this man you say came to see you." He flipped open a notebook, and the dark-stoned signet ring he wore flashed. "You said his name was Michael Cyprien, and that he resides at some place called La Fontaine in the city of New Orleans. Is all that correct?"

"Yes."

He closed the notebook. "Here's our problem, ma'am. There is no Michael Cyprien residing in the city of New Orleans, and no house by that name at any address within the city limits. We tried all the airlines, but no one with Cyprien's name or description has flown from New Orleans to Chicago in the last six months."