"Are you in trouble?"

"Terrible trouble. I am so afraid. Will you help me?"

"Of course." Jocelyn frowned, shaking her head as she attempted to clear the fog of sleep from her mind. "What can I do?"

"Come with me."

"Come? Come where?" Jocelyn watched the apparition float toward the door, that voice of warning still sounding deep within her. "Molly?"

The woman stood at the door, waving an impatient hand toward the reluctant Jocelyn.

"Come."

With sluggish reluctance Jocelyn forced herself to climb out of the bed. This was all wrong.

Why would Molly be in her home at this time of night? And yet, she could not fail Molly. The maiden had come to her for help, and it was her duty to do whatever she could to provide assistance.

"Where are we going?" she demanded as she hurried across the uneven floorboards. Molly did not answer as she slipped into the dark hall and headed for the stairs. "Molly, wait."

The maiden did not halt as she continued over the landing and down the steps. Jocelyn moved to follow the shimmering form, but without warning a hand reached out to grasp her arm in a firm grip.

"No, Jocelyn, you must stop."

Decidedly confused, Jocelyn turned her head to discover an old gypsy woman standing at her side. She gave a vague blink, not certain how her home came to be cluttered with so many unexpected guests.

"Please, I must go," she said in thick tones, realizing that Molly had disappeared from sight.

"Molly needs me."

The thin, wrinkled face hardened at her words. "No, it is not Molly."

"Of course it is. I just saw her."

"No, do you not remember? Molly is dead."

A sharp pang abruptly stabbed Jocelyn's heart even through the cloud of confusion.

"Dead? But she was here."

"No, that was not Molly."

"But..."

"Jocelyn, there is someone trying to deceive you. You must not follow. Molly is dead."

With a wrenching effort Jocelyn forced herself to battle through the fog. "Yes," she murmured with a furrowed brow, recalling the odd vicar who had told her of Molly's death and then the arrival of Mr. Ryan. "I do not understand."

"Let us go back to bed."

Barely aware she was moving, Jocelyn allowed the strange gypsy to lead her back into her chamber and toward the bed. She regarded her companion with a puzzled expression.

"You are the gypsy who gave me the necklace."

A sudden smile touched the weathered countenance. "Yes, my dear. Do you remember my warning of the necklace?"

Jocelyn reached up to touch the amulet about her neck, rather startled to discover that it was warm beneath her fingers.

"You said that I am never to take it off or to give it to another."

Gently helping Jocelyn climb into bed, the gypsy covered her with the thin blanket.

"That is right, dearest. Never take it off for any reason. Not even if you believe it might help to protect someone you care about."

Jocelyn snuggled into the feather mattress, already slipping back into sleep.

"Why?"

In answer the woman reached out her gnarled hand and brushed it over Jocelyn's forehead.

"Sleep, my dear. Sleep in peace."

On cue the darkness rose up and Jocelyn was tumbling into a deep, dreamless sleep. She was unaware of the danger that lurked just out of sight, or of the powerful vampire who guarded her slumber.

For the first time in years she was at peace.

Brooding frustration smoldered within Lucien as he made his way back to Jocelyn's small home. Despite his meticulous search, he had been unable to discover any hint of Amadeus.

There was no scent of the vampire among the endless clutter of buildings or the numerous prostitutes who plied their wares upon every corner. Not even his henchmen had been upon the streets.

At last he had been forced to concede defeat.

He was not destined to discover Amadeus on this night, he had concluded in disgust.

Or so he had believed.

As he neared Jocelyn's cramped neighborhood, he felt a familiar tingle brush over his skin.

Pausing, he allowed himself to consider the sudden sensation. It was the undeniable presence of a vampire.

With a chill in his heart he hurried closer, abruptly realizing that it was the sense of Amadeus that he felt.

Amadeus... here.

It was no wonder he had been unable to discover the traitor among the whores and pickpockets, he thought with grim fear. The vampire had used his absence to approach Jocelyn.

Flowing through the darkness with blinding speed, he entered the house and moved up the stairs. In the beat of a heart he was in Jocelyn's chamber. He stepped toward the bed, only to halt when a shadowy form abruptly appeared before Kim.

His hand instinctively reached for the dagger before realizing that the old gypsy woman was not Amadeus in disguise, but Nefri, the most powerful of all vampires.

His eyes widened as he offered a bow of respect. Nefri was a legend among vampires and regarded as the most powerful, most blessed of all Immortals.

"Nefri," he murmured.

A smile touched the wrinkled countenance. "Lucien."

His gaze shifted toward the form upon the bed. At any other time he would have been overwhelmed to at last encounter the Great Nefri. It was considered a blessing to merely be in her presence. At the moment, however, he could think of nothing beyond Jocelyn.

He had sensed Amadeus close. He had not been mistaken.

"Miss Kingly?"

"She sleeps peacefully," the older vampire said in soft tones.

"She is well? She had not been harmed?"

"All is well."

The tight knot in his stomach eased, but he re-mained on rigid guard. He had already failed once this night. He would not fail again.

"Amadeus was here," he said in dark tones.

Nefri gave a nod of her head. "Yes, he assumed-the shape of poor Molly and attempted to lure Jo-celyn from the house."

"Bloody hell." Lucien closed his eyes in disgust. He had known it was a risk to leave Jocelyn.

And yet, he had allowed his eagerness to end the battle with Amadeus to cloud his wits. He had once again been overly impulsive and far too eager to act rather than remain patient. Only, on this occasion it was not himself he had harmed with his unsteady nature. "I should never have left her alone."

As if sensing his bitter self-recriminations, the older vampire stepped close enough to lay her gnarled hand upon his arm.

"Lucien, you could not have known his plans."

"I allowed Jocelyn to be in danger."

The pale eyes that glittered like jewels in the darkness hardened at his harsh tone.

"You must not be so hard upon yourself," she commanded in tones that brooked no argument. "You have done an admirable job in protecting the Medallion."

Lucien was not so easily reassured. Not while his body still trembled with the lingering fear at the re-alization that Amadeus had boldly entered this house and attempted to harm Jocelyn.

"I thought to track Amadeus to his lair, and instead I left Jocelyn to his mercy."

The fingers upon his arm tightened. "Listen to me, Lucien. If you wish someone to blame for placing Jocelyn in danger, you can look to me. It was my choice to bind her with the Medallion.

But I did so because I sensed she possessed a pure heart and the necessary strength to bear the trials she must endure. We can only do our best to protect her. In the end it will be Jocelyn who will determine who is to win this battle."

He gazed into the wise countenance, battling a renegade stab of anger that Nefri had ever discovered Jocelyn. The poor maiden had endured far more than she ever should have been forced to bear. Surely it was unfair to place her at the mercy of renegade vampires. A danger that had been so willingly thrust upon her.

"How can she fight a battle she does not even realize she has entered?" he charged.

"Is she prepared to learn the truth?" Nefri swiftly countered. "And are you prepared to tell her of yourself?"

Lucien stiffened at the mere thought. Confess to Jocelyn that he was a vampire? To watch her face fill with horror? To know that every time he came near her she would be filled with terror?

"No," he retorted in abrupt tones.

"Then we must wait. We cannot allow her to be frightened into fleeing. She would then certainly be at the mercy of Amadeus."

Lucien glanced toward the slumbering woman upon the bed. His heart twitched in pain. He might wish that Jocelyn had not been involved in the battle between vampires, but now that she was, he had to make certain she was kept safe.

"Yes," he agreed in low tones.

Nefri regarded him with a knowing gaze, easily able to sense his growing bond to the young maiden. "But, Lucien, do not allow your feelings for Jocelyn to conceal the truth too long. There must be honesty between you," she warned.

Lucien took an instinctive step backward, shaking his head in denial. "She will never understand. How could she?"

The smile returned to the old woman's lips. "You will find a way."

So easy for her to say, Lucien acknowledged wryly. This great and powerful vampire had dedicated her life to the ancient lore of the past. She had created the Veil that brought peace and wisdom to her brothers. She had sacrificed herself to bear the burden of the Medallion until the traitors had attempted to steal it from her. She was beloved among all.