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When Jackson opened his mouth, Cassidy gave a slight shake of her head. He opted for a vague “A while.”

“I look like a corpse. For how many months have you kept me confined?”

“You’re not confined,” Cassidy said.

“Oh? I can leave then?”

The question took her aback.Leave?Dear God, where would he want to go?

Dominique turned and walked toward the living room. She dared not move, not even breathe, as he rounded the corner and stepped directly into the bright sunlight streaming through a wall of glass. He raised his hand to shield his eyes, but didn’t flinch. His skin remained a pristine white.

Weak with relief, Cassidy hurried after him, Jackson on her heels.

The sliding doors opened. Dominique walked out and studied the infinity pool and the meticulously tended backyard. Serge’s sailing catamaran lay tethered at the end of the dock, awaiting her pirate captain at nightfall. By the pool’s far side, close to the guesthouse where she lived, Samantha was engrossed in her morning yoga practice, while nearby, Brinkley stood on his haunches to inspect the contents of a terra-cotta planter.

“Ce n’est pas Saint Barthélemy.”

“You’re right. It’s not,” Cassidy agreed, coming up behind him. “This is South Florida.”

He stabbed the fingers of both hands into his hair and clutched his head. “Comment est-ce que je suis arrivé ici? Pourquoi est-ce qu je suis ici?”

“Please, Dominique, listen to me,” she tried. “I know this is disorienting, but how you got here is a really long story that’ll take time to tell. And you really are safe here.”

The outburst caused Samantha to glance over her shoulder and promptly stumble out of her balance pose. Mouth gaping in astonishment, she came toward them. Beside Cassidy and out of Dominique’s view, Jackson tried to wave her off. She ignored him. “Dominique?”

“Oui?”

“What are you doing? Why are you…what…how?” she spluttered as she gestured at the sunlit landscape.

“Do you know me,madame?”

Samantha reared back. “Do I what?”

“He doesn’t remember,” Jackson said. “Anything,” he added with great emphasis.

His half-sister looked dazed. “I see.” She shook her head. “Yes. Yes, I know you.”

Cassidy put a tentative hand on Dominique’s shoulder. “What is the last thing you remember?”

He shot her a guarded glance. Then he walked away again, rounding the pool, putting distance between them. Wind ruffled his wild hair. The morning sun bathed him in warm brilliance. He was living his most impossible dream—a dream he no longer remembered. Cassidy’s eyes stung with fresh tears.

“Jack, is this the ‘gift’ Serge said you brought for him?” Samantha whispered.

“It is,” he confirmed.

“My God, baby brother. What have you done?”

“What we all do, Sam. What he wants us to do. And now I’m going to do what I need to do.”

Cassidy grabbed his arm before he could take more than a single step. “I think you’ve done quite enough.” She swiped at her cheeks and set her jaw, then went after Dominique.

The day-walking vampire had come to a halt at the far side of the pool, and stood with arms crossed, staring into the sunrise. Cassidy didn’t touch him again. She wouldn’t be able to handle him turning away from her one more time. “Please. Tell me what you remember. We really are trying to help.”

The sneer on his lips was scathing. “You must think I’m an imbecile. If I were sick, I would be in hospital, not locked up in a house in a foreign country.”

“You’re right. You’re not sick.” And he definitely didn’t need any damn “cure.” “I’m guessing the last thing you remember is leaving your house, your parents’ house, on Saint Barthélemy. You were very sick then. Am I right?”

The sneer faltered. “Oui.”