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S aintcrow brushed a kiss across Kadie’s cold lips before he left their lair to wander through the town.

All the shops, the restaurants, the hotel, the library, and the campground remained closed.

The whole place looked as forlorn as he felt.

More than four months had passed and there had been no change in Kadie’s condition.

He gave her a little of his blood from time-to-time, but he didn’t know how much longer she could go on without feeding.

Vampires needed human blood to survive. His blood would not sustain her forever.

Kadie had been his center. Her love had calmed the beast that had once raged within him, made him see people as more than just prey.

She had made him laugh, taught him the difference between love and lust, given him a reason to go on.

He feared her influence on him might wane if this accursed plague lasted much longer.

Hands shoved deep into his pants’ pockets, he walked to the park and sat down on one of the wrought-iron benches.

He remembered the first day Kadie had arrived in Morgan Creek.

He had been resting deep in the earth at the time, but the scent of her life’s blood had roused him, bringing him to full awareness.

A single whiff, and he had known he would not rest until she was his.

She had been terrified of him when first they met.

He had intended to take her, willing or not, and make her his, but there had been something about her that made him hesitate and he’d realized he didn’t want to take her by force.

Gradually, as her fears faded, she had fallen in love with him, as he had with her.

Saintcrow slammed his hand on the bench, putting a dent in the iron. Dammit ! There had to be something he could do.

His head jerked up as a scent he had not encountered for centuries wafted toward him. He muttered an oath as the vampire who had turned him materialized on the bench beside him. “You! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Having a temper tantrum, are we?” she asked. “I would have thought you’d have outgrown that by now.”

Saintcrow glared at her, his hands itching to break her neck, but what was the point? It wouldn’t kill her.

Eleni lifted a hand to her throat. “Is that any way to greet the one who made you? Really, Saintcrow, such nasty thoughts.”

“What the devil is your name, anyway?” he growled. “You didn’t stick around long enough to tell me.”

“Eleni,” she murmured. “Do you like it?”

Saintcrow snorted. “Why are you here?” And how the hell had she bypassed the wards on the bridge?

“You were thinking about me a while back, wondering if I was dead or alive. I came to put your fears to rest.”

“As if I cared one way or the other.” He was about to transport himself back home when he paused. “Have you heard of the plague that’s rendering young vampires in this state helpless and immobile?”

“Of course.”

“My woman has been stricken with it.”

“Ah. And you were wondering if I could help.”

“Can you?”

“Sadly, no. Even my ancient blood has no effect. Odd that it’s only affecting those in Wyoming. I hear many of the very young vampires have died.”

“How young?” he asked anxiously.

“Less than two years since they were turned. Older ones remain in a coma-like state. Only those considered ancient have been spared. But perhaps it’s a good thing. Our numbers have been growing in the last decade or so. Some of the young ones are getting careless.”

Saintcrow stared at her in disbelief. “So, you’re saying this plague is a good thing?”

“Not exactly.”

Saintcrow raked his fingers through his hair.

If Eleni couldn’t help him, then everything depended on Izabela’s being able to locate Luca.

Dammit! The necromancer no longer had a body of his own.

He could be anywhere, inside man or beast, and they might never know it.

Feeling Eleni watching him, he looked up. “What?”

“I had forgotten just how attractive you are,” she said, her voice suddenly husky. “The one thing I always regretted was that I never took you to my bed.”

“I’d as soon couple with a viper.” He regretted the remark instantly as her ancient power knifed through every fiber of his being, rendering him incapable of movement.

“I had no idea you were so rude,” she said, her voice cold. “Perhaps I’d better stay and teach you some manners.”

“Turn me loose, dammit.”

“Say please.”

“Go to hell.” Saintcrow cursed as the pain increased. He wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone. In Morgan Creek and elsewhere, he had always been the top dog, the oldest of his kind.

“We can just keep doing this,” Eleni remarked, smoothing a wrinkle from her skirt. “It’s up to you.”

Speaking through clenched teeth, Saintcrow hissed, “Do your worst.”

Muttering, “Stubborn idiot,” Eleni heightened the pain.

With a low groan, Saintcrow slipped from the bench onto his knees. Head still held high, he glowered at her, hating her in that moment as he had never hated anyone else.

With a shake of her head, Eleni released him. She had never known such a stubborn man. And yet, in spite of his tenacious pride, she had to admire him. “You would have let me kill you rather than beg, wouldn’t you?”

Nodding, Saintcrow gained his feet as the pain slowly receded. It rankled that he had no power over her. She had made him, damn her hide, and he was powerless against her. He swore under his breath when he felt her mind brush his.

“So, the woman you mentioned is your wife. And she’s the reason you’re searching for a cure.”

“One of them.”

“Most vampires never marry,” she mused. “I never have.”

He bit back the sharp retort that sprang to mind.

A knowing smile flitted across her face. “Careful, Saintcrow,” she warned. “I’ve only given you a taste of what I can do.”

And with that subtle warning, Eleni vanished from his sight.

She hadn’t been gone more than a moment when Kincaid strolled into view. “That was quite a show,” he remarked. “Are you all right?”

Saintcrow scowled at him. “You spying on me?”

“Of course not. I sure as hell wouldn’t cross her again if I was you.”

“If you weren’t spying on me, what were you doing?”

“I heard from Izabela.” Kincaid raised his hand. “Don’t get your hopes up. She called a few minutes ago to say she hasn’t had any luck so far.”

Shit. “I take it she couldn’t get anything from the soul-catcher or the dagger.”

“Not yet, but she’s still trying.” Arms folded over his chest, Kincaid leaned back against a nearby tree. “How old is your sire?”

“I have no idea.”

“I’ve never felt power like that before. Damn glad it wasn’t directed at me.”

Saintcrow grunted. He hoped like hell he’d never be on the receiving end of it again.

“So, what do we do now?” Kincaid asked.

“I don’t know. What about Rhinehart?” Saintcrow asked after a moment. Luca had possessed Paul Rhinehart’s body for a period of time. “Do you think he has anything that belonged to Sasan?”

“I can’t imagine why he’d keep anything to remind him of Luca.”

“You’re probably right, but, hell, I’ve got nothing better to do. Want to go with me to ask him?”

“Sure. I’m footloose and fancy free until Rosa calls me.”

Back in the day, Paul Rhinehart had lived in a split-lever house on a quiet cul-de-sac. Saintcrow inhaled deeply. “He still lives here,” he said, as they materialized on the brick walkway.

Kincaid nodded. “You don’t think Luca would possess Rhinehart a second time, do you?”

Saintcrow shrugged. “We’ll soon find out.” Rhinehart had made some changes to the place in the last few years, he noted, as they approached the front door. The house, once tan with brown trim, was now a pale blue with white shutters.

“He might not be home, you know,” Kincaid remarked.” Now that he’s no longer hunting vampires, he might have found himself a nice nine-to-five job.”

“Well, it’s after six,” Saintcrow said, and rang the bell. “Working or not, he should be here.”

A moment later, Paul Rhinehart opened the door. He was a man of medium height, with light-brown hair and eyes. His face paled as he recognized his visitors. “You!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” Stepping outside, he closed the door behind him.

“Calm down,” Saintcrow said. “We don’t mean you any harm. We just want to ask you a question.”

“I haven’t hunted any vampires, if that’s what you want to know.”

Saintcrow shook his head. “Do you by chance have anything that belonged to Luca?”

“Luca?” Rhinehart frowned. “Hell, no. Why would I?”

“He’s on the loose again,” Kincaid said.

Rhinehart paled even more, if that was possible. “But … we buried him in Colombia. How did he get out?”

Saintcrow shrugged. “We’re not sure. All we know is that his soul is free and he’s likely possessed some other poor devil. Unfortunately, we have no idea where he might be.”

“You don’t think he’d come here, do you?” Rhinehart asked, looking alarmed.

“It’s doubtful,” Kincaid said. “So, you don’t have anything?”

“No. But if I had, I would have burned it.”

“Yeah,” Saintcrow muttered. “That’s what we should have done with that damn soul-catcher.”