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She could not have stunned him more had she hit him across the face. That plucked chord in his heart thrummed so loud he heard nothing else, and he only mouthed his answer. “Yes. I am alone.”

4

After her uncanny insights into his circumstances, there wasn’t much Kambyses could deny this mortal enchantress. As he walked with her, he shielded them both from notice, letting her choose the path as he answered her questions the way he had been incapable of answering for his young ones. This, too, he told her.

“Maybe it’s because I’m human,” she offered thoughtfully.

“I rarely speak with humans at all.”

“Because we don’t rate?” No trace of derision threaded through her tone.

“Because you are mortal,” he countered. “You are…food.”

“Oh.” Her mouth pursed tight before she nodded to herself, the gold hoops in her ears bobbing amidst her red tresses. It was the first thing he said that seemed to take her aback. The craving for her blood burned a little hotter. The anticipation of knowing her thoughts sweetened. He continued to wait, drawing out the moment into an exquisite, aching need.

“You are offended?” Not that this mattered, but without a link to her mind yet, he had to satisfy his curiosity by asking.

She shook her head, and she pushed her hair back behind both ears. The muggy evening thickened it into a dense, uncooperative mane, and coaxed from it a pleasing, bright mint scent. “No. You’re right, of course. We are food to you.” Another question welled in her eyes as they cut him a sideways glance, but instead of voicing it, she said, “I think you find it easier to talk to me because I’m like the person you’d meet on a plane or train. You feel our relationship is temporary. It doesn’t matter what you tell me, how personal you get, because you know you’ll never see me again. Not after a few decades, anyway. I have an end date.”

Which might be soon at hand. The more he told her, the more difficult it would be to compel her into permanently forgetting, which made it easier to consider “ending” her. “Perhaps.”

“No, I think I’m right. I mean, think about it. If you talk to other vampires, they’re around forever, right? So who knows what might come back to bite you in the ass? But when you talk to me, everything you tell me…dies with me.”

There was the slightest catch in her voice at this last statement, and he upgraded his estimation of her. She wasn’t a complete ignorant. By engaging with him, she danced with the darkest, most dangerous of fires, yet dance she did. For reasons he couldn’t quite grasp, Kambyses decided to ease her worries. “When we part ways, you will forget all you have learned of me.”

One way or another.

Her eyes widened with astonishment. “You can do that?” At his raised brow, she hastily amended, “Oh God, yes. Of course, you can. Stupid question.”

“Stupid question,” he echoed, considering. Was she right? Was she an easier companion because she was mortal and at his mercy? Or was she more like a pet? Humans bared their souls to their pets, did they not?

They had stopped at the edge of another of the many tree-lined plazas dotting the old town. A fountain splashed at its center, and a handful of cars and vans, some blasting lively beats, flowed past. Pedestrians, too, though these gave him and his pet mortal wide quarter.

Monica watched several people dramatically alter their path when they unconsciously responded to the invisible psychic barrier Kambyses maintained. A small frown gathered her fine brow before understanding dawned. “Yes. Very stupid question.”

“Do you think you know me well enough now, Monica?”

Her heart rate escalated again when she read the hunger in his face, deciphering his meaning. “What, here? In the middle of the street? What about…” Another quick glance around. Still no one paid them any attention. She cleared her throat, her hands coming together before her. “I guess I was hoping for something a little more…private.”

“Were you?” It didn’t matter. Once he had her mind, she would no more notice anyone else than he would. But, oh, this longing sliding in his entrails was beyond delicious. How much longer could he endure it? And as much as he had already shared with her, what was a little more? Or a great deal more? At what point would her fascination disintegrate into terror?

Resolving to find out, Kambyses dropped the barrier, caught the eye of the first driver to come their way, and extended a silent command. The boxy little black car squealed to a halt before them, making the girl flinch. He leaned into the open passenger side window, and spoke to the man at the wheel, who had a screaming skull tattooed on his bicep. The driver’s only response was a familiar, empty stare.

Kambyses straightened before gallantly opening the rear door for Monica. “Get in.”

“Where are we going?”

“You will know it when you see it.” He pushed an image of the destination into her subconscious. With a touch of compulsion, he added, “Until you do, remember nothing of me.”

5

Simple as it would have been to carry her, he knew, with surveillance systems so prevalent, that a young woman getting into a strange car alone before disappearing would be a far better mystery to leave behind.

Because disappear, she would. That was all but decided.

He sped back to the marina and melted into the shadows of the maintenance building straddling the dock. Interminable minutes of solitude drifted past before he saw her again, emerging from the late-night bustle at the marina’s restaurant. With uncertain steps, she made her way past the dock gate.

Retreating to Apokryphos, tied up at the dock’s deepest and most distant end, Kambyses waited on the aft main deck. From there, he overlooked the landing platform and most of the dock. Another minute passed before the prey eased around the maintenance building with a puzzled, anxious expression on her dewy face.