"She said she was going shopping."

Roland felt as if he would explode. Shopping! By God, Rhiannon was more than reckless. She was utterly insane! "Why the hell didn't someone come and let me know?"

Eric pulled Tamara aside and stepped in front of her, as if to guard her from Roland's anger.

"I've been looking for you for two hours, Roland. I had no idea where to find you, and you ignored my summons.

What more could we do? "

Roland pushed one hand through his hair, and let his eyes fall closed.

"We have to find her. There are DPI operatives all over the village. And if Curtis hasn't told them about the castle, you can bet he's told them about her. They'll spot her in a second. She stands oUt from other women like a swan among crows."

He ignored the meaningful glance Tamara shot Eric."Might be nice if she could hear you say so."Roland only shook his head.

"Honestly, Roland, I don't know why you're so worded. She isn't going to do anything risky,"Tamara said.

"Hah! She likes nothing better than to risk her pretty neck at every opportunity. If you knew her at all, you would be worried, too."He was racked with worry. Why on earth had he let her out of his sight after she'd been nearly killed? Why in the name of God had he thought she'd exercise some caution after that incident? Didn't he know her better? He ought to have been watching her every move. Instead, he'd deliberately closed off his mind so she wouldn't be able to track him down while he visited the little cimetire in the small wood lot near the castle. He'd felt a sudden need to be there, to remind himself what he'd done to his family, and to the only other woman who'd ever stirred him to this kind of madness. He'd come close to letting those sins slip his mind yesterday, and doing that would only doom him to repeat them.

As he started for the door, Eric gripped his shoulder."I'll come with you."

He glanced through the window where Frederick and Jamey frolicked with Pandora in the safety of the courtyard.

"And leave only Tamara to watch over Jamey?"

"What do you suppose Rogers would do if he found her here with only gentle Freddy and a cat for protection?"

Tamara tossed her head, flipping her hair behind her shoulders in exactly the way Rhiannon always did.

"I'm no helpless mortal,"she declared.

"I can take care of myself."

Eric bit his inner cheek to keep from smiling, Roland noted.

"You've been around Rhiannon too much, fledgling,"Roland said.

"And you haven't been around her enough,"she snapped.

"Either that, or you're a blind fool. She thinks you dislike her. She thinks you believe she's not good enough for you. If she does do something crazy, it will probably only be her way of trying to show you how wrong you are."

"Where on earth do you get these notions? Rhiannor believes herself good enough for God himself, to sa3 nothing about me."

"It's not what she thinks that matters, it's what she believes you think."

When he only frowned and shook his head, she fumed.

"I could just shake you!"

Eric caught her shoulders and drew her back against him.

"Easy, my love. You might hurt him."He glanced up at Roland.

"Go on, go find your rebel. I'll keep things secure here."

Roland left the castle, but he couldn't help wondering about Tamara's words.

Was there the slightest chance that Rhiannon felt she had to prove herself to him? It was utterly ridiculous, of course. But then, Rhiannon had made that remark about his seeing her as inferior.

Perhaps there was some truth to Tamara's theory.

Now, though, he had no time to worry about theories or motivations.

Rhiannon was out on her own, and there were at least two potentially lethal enemies lurking in the village. He needed to find her right away.

He began at the house she'd told him she was renting, just outside the village. That she'd been there was without question. The bloodstained skirt and his white shirt lay on the floor, and the tub's interior was coated in droplets announcing its recent use. The room still smelled of the scented candles she'd burned. The candle wax was still warlil.

A suitcase lay on the bed, laden with clothing. He assumed she was planning to bring it back to the castle with her on the return trip, but wondered if he was assuming too much. She'd been fairly angry when he'd last seen her.

He shook his head, and checked the room thoroughly. He saw the notepad and pencil near the phone and he hurried to it. She'd written something on the top sheet, obviously. But she'd torn it off. He licked his lips, lifting the pad to the light to try to make out the indentations of the pencil. No luck. Angry, he turned to fling the thing at the wastebasket."and he saw the small bit of yellow paper, crumpled and resting atop some other rubbish.

He picked it up, and smoothed it out.

There was an address, and a room number. Beneath those, underlined, one word: "Rogers."

Rhiannon saw the two men silhouetted by the lamplight. They sat in the hotel suite's front room. She clung to the windowsill, fifteen stories up, peering in at them as the sounds of traffic and mortal activity filled the night.

She was at the window of a bedroom, but she could see them both clearly through the open door. For once, she wished she were older, more powerful.

She longed for the power to transmute herself into a mouse, and crawl about the room that way.

She'd heard there were a few who could achieve such a thing, the very ancient ones. She'd tried it herself a few times, but always only managed to give herself a walloping headache for her trouble.

She did have the ability to entrance humans. She could, possibly, lull them into a state of catatonia, and then dance through the rooms at will without arousing a response from them. But there was a chance her efforts would only result in alerting them of her presence. For the man with Curtis Rogers was the one who'd attacked her at the soccer match. And she already knew he could guard his mind from hers.

A little shiver raced over her spine as she studied his face. He was mean-looking, with a wide, pugnacious nose and a thick coating of dark stubble. He was heavy, his arms big, but not fat. He looked like one of the professional wrestlers she'd seen on cable TV a time or two. He wore his dark hair cut close to his head, in short bristles.

His lips were too thick.

She listened intently, and heard little other than their voices, speaking low. She sniffed the air, and smelled the big one's sweat, and Curtis's cologne, and expensive whiskey.

Silently, she hauled herself over the edge.

"We understand each other, then?"

Curtis shrugged. Rhiannon slipped to one side, out of their range of vision should they look this way.

"I don't need to understand you. If you can help me capture one of them, you can name your price."

The man shook his head.

"Not just any one of them. Her. She's the oldest, the most powerful. It's her I want."He slugged back the whiskey in his glass and licked his lips with a fat tongue.

"I want you to tranquilize her, and leave me alone with her, for as long as I need."

Curtis shook his head. He got to his feet, crossed to the bar and gripped the amber-filled bottle by its neck.

"You want to screw her.

You're not fooling me. Hell, I can't blame you. She's a hot one."

The other man pursed his lips and said nothing. He held his glass up when Curtis approached, and whiskey splashed into it.

"Maybe I will, but that isn't my main goal. You certain she'll be absolutely helpless?"

"Absolutely. This drug has been tested. It works."Curtis filled his own glass and paced away.

"You mind if I ask why you think you can capture her when the rest of us have failed?"

"I have certain abilities. And I know their weaknesses."

"So do we."

"I know how to use them."

"Yeah, well, I can't say I have much confidence in your chances. But if you can do it, you can have her as helpless and as often as you want her."

Rhiannon shuddered at the image. She recalled too well the last time she'd been helpless at the hands of a DPI operative.

Weakened from the blood they'd drained away, she could only lie there, hands and feet restrained, as they tortured and touched her.

"Then you'll tell me where they are."

She stiffened, listening.

Curtis hesitated.

"There are others that interest me, besides her.

They;re mine. Mine alone, you understand? "

"Perfectly."He chuckled and the sound made her shiver.

"You have special plans for them, no doubt. I wouldn't dream of interfering."

"And you can tell no one else. If their locale gets out, the entire DPI body will be staked out around the place.

I'll never get my hands on them,"Curtis said.

The man nodded.

"Agreed."

Curtis sighed long and hard.

"They're at a castle called Le Chateau de Courtemanche, south of L'Ombre."

His accent was terrible. The name of the village had sounded like "lumber."

Rhiannon wished she could simply kill the both of them. God knew it would be justified. Unfortunately, Roland would never forgive her. He and his noble, knightly ideas about honor. And he thought he had a demon in him. Ha! If he had a demon, then she must be one.

"It might be of help if I were to take a sample of the drug"-- "Forget it, pal. That formula is top secret. No one has it but me, and that's the way it's going to stay."

So you think, Curtis, dear, Rhiannon thought.

"All right. I don't need it."The man rose and turned toward the door.

Curtis turned to a table, out of Rhiannon's sight. She moved to a more advantageous angle and peered at him. He snapped the lid on a briefcase, and she glimpsed rows of test tubes, with rubber stoppers, inside.

The drug.

"Aren't you going to tell me how to reach you? I don't even know your name."

The man opened the door and paused.

"I'll contact you, when it's necessary. As for my name, you may call me Lucien, for now."

He left the room, leaving the door wide. Curtis hurried to close it, shaking his head. He carefully fastened the lock, and then came toward the room she was in. She flung herself beneath the bed, and peered out to watch him. He kept going, right through the door that led to the bathroom. She pulled herself out, and hurried to grab the briefcase. In seconds she was out the window once more, and clambering carefully down.

She reached jumping distance and leapt elegantly to the ground, landing with a little bounce, and fighting to stave off laughter. She was nearly giddy with her success.

Arms came around her from behind and pulled her into a darkened alley. She struggled, but the strength in them was unbelievable, and for just an instant, she fully expected to feel the jab of Lucien's blade in her side once more.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Roland!"She turned in his grip, and went nearly limp with relief.

"You frightened me half to death. I thought you were that hunk of beef who tried to knife me before."

"I could very well have been. You take less care than a whirling dervish."

"I daresay, I've known more dervishes than you have Roland, and I take a good deal more care than they."His arms still imprisoned hers, and she shook free. She lifted the briefcase, and thrust it at him.

"Maybe you'll stop being so angry when you see what I have."

"I don't care what you have, you could have been killed or captured trying to get it. When are you going to listen to me, Rhiannon?"

"Just look at it, Roland. I know you'll be pleased."

He thrust the case back into her hands: "Not here."He gripped her arm and began striding away, down the alley.

She tugged free once again, sorely hurt that he didn't even care to see what she'd accomplished.

"I have a car waitingl A rental."

"Leave it,"he barked.

"Go to hell, Roland. My packages are inside."

She raced away from him before he could grab her again. In seconds, she'd settled herself behind the steering wheel. She was surprised when the passenger door jerked open and he slid in beside her."You detest automobiles."

"I'll put up with one tonight."

A little of her anger faded.

"Just to be with me?""Yes."

She very nearly grinned.

"Because if I let you out of my sight, there is no telling what kind of foolish thing you'll do next."

He could have slapped her and hurt her less. She refused to let him see it, though. She started the engine and pulled away from the hotel. The case rested on the seat between them. He didn't make a move to look inside and she wouldn't ask again.

She pulled to a stop right in front of her rental house, an"Roland scowled.

"Keep going, Rhiannon."

"I only want to fetch my suitcase."

"Then park somewhere else and we'll walk back for it. No sense announcing our presence."

"Stop telling me what to do."

"Someone has to. You haven't sense enough to act responsibly on your own."

She got out and slammed the door.

"That's enough. I am staying right here. I wouldn't go back to that musty old castle of yours if there were twenty DPI men waiting for me right now."

She dragged the briefcase out of the car as Roland jumped out the opposite door. She threw it at him, putting a good deal of force into it. The case hit him squarely in the chest, and he staggered backward.

"Give it to Eric. It's the tranquilizer. I thought he might like to examine it, see if he can come up with an antidote, or something."

"Rhiannon, don't be ridiculous."He tossed the case back into the car and came around it. He caught up with her, gripped her upper arms and made her face him. Then his eyes widened, and he looked at her in disbelief."You're crying."

She ripped one arm free of him, even though doing so hurt considerably, and dashed the tears from her face with her hand.

"No, I'm not."

He shook his head slowly.

"Rhiannon, I didn't mean to hurt you"-- "You? Hurt me?"She released a bark of laughter.

"I am the daughter of a Pharaoh, a princess of Egypt. Men fall at my feet if I wish it.

Mortals and immortals alike. Do you really think I can be hurt by the likes of you? "Her throat burned.

"I hate you, Roland de Courtemanche. I detest you, and you will not have the opportunity to reject me ever again."

Roland returned to the castle alone. He drove the car, for the simple reason that he didn't want DPI to see it outside Rhiannon's house and realize she was inside. He wasn't even certain they knew it was her house, but it would seem likely. Her description would have been ban died about L'Ombre, and questions asked. Someone would know the elusive Rhiannon had rented the cottage.

He entered through the front door, and found no one about. He stalked to his chambers and stopped in the doorway, unable for a moment, to draw a breath.

Frederick glanced down from the ladder where he stood, polishing the silver chandelier that winked and sparkled. Tamara stopped swiping the bare windows with the wet cloth. Eric glanced up from the hearth where he knelt with a wire brush, scrubbing the stones. Jamey lowered the broom with which he'd been attacking cobwebs."Where's Rhiannon?"

the boy asked.

Roland looked at the floor, rather than into Jamey's eyes. The cat came toward him, tail swishing, a similar question in her feline eyes.

"She's at the house she rented. She wanted to stay there."

"Roland..."Tamara's voice carried a warning, but Eric stopped her with a glance and came forward."What's in the briefcase, my friend?"

He looked down, having nearly forgotten what he car-fled."It's the drug, the tranquilizer Rogers used against you before."

Eric lifted one eyebrow.

"How did you"-- "Not me. Rhiannon. She slipped into Rogers's hotel suite and stole it."

Eric's jaw dropped for just a moment.

Jamey smiled and shook his head.

"Man, she's got guts."

"Guts?"Roland scowled at the boy.

"It was an idiotic thing to do.

Rogers was in the room at the time, not to mention that other fellow.

The one who nearly killed her."

"And she went in there, anyway,"Jamey insisted."That took guts."

"She is reckless and self-destructive."

Tamara threw the washrag she'd been using onto the floor and stomped across the room.

"She is brave, and cunning, and absolutely beautiful. I wish I were more like her."

Eric looked at her, a hint of alarm on his face.

"I like you the way you are, Tamara."

"Rhiannon is far too sure of herself. She should be more careful."

Roland slung the briefcase onto a stand and sunk into a chair.

"She's not at all sure of herself. Roland, you hurt her again, didn't you?"

"What on earth do you mean, 'again'?"

"Tamara, leave him alone. Roland is right about this. Rhiannon takes far too many risks."Eric touched her shoulder and she whirled on him, glaring in a way Roland had rarely seen her do.

"If one of you had done what she did tonight, you'd be congratulating yourselves until dawn. Why on earth can't you give the woman some credit?"

"Did Rhiannon get the new drapes?"Frederick called down from the ladder.

Roland lifted his head. He felt a heavy burden of guilt lowering itself upon his shoulders, and Tamara was only adding to it. He'd wanted to protect Rhiannon. Instead, he'd somehow hurt her.

"Out in the car, I believe."He looked once again at the rooms around him, and shook his head.

"You've all been working nonstop all night, haven't you?"

"Don't thank us,"Tamara snapped.

"We did it for her, not you."She hurried out of the room with Jamey on her heels. Frederick limped down from the ladder and went after them.

Eric sat in a chair opposite Roland.

"A car? Care to tell me how that came about?"

Roland did, beginning with the luggage in the cottage, and ending with the scene outside it. As he spoke, Jamey carried in a package containing the new drapes, and took his place on the ladder to hang them. Frederick came in to help, setting a box containing no less than a hundred candles, on the floor.

Roland and Eric largely ignored the two, and soon they trooped out again to return with more packages. It was a full thirty minutes before Eric frowned hard and looked up.

"Where is Tamara?"

Frederick only shrugged and limped out once more.

Jamey went to follow, but Eric gripped his arm."Jamison, tell me where she is."

Jamey licked his lips.

"She went to Rhiannon's. Don't be mad, Eric. She made me promise not to say a word."

Eric grimaced and whirled to go out the door. He nearly collided with Tamara and Rhiannon. Roland swallowed hard, relief welling up that she was here, safe. She looked around the room with ill-concealed surprise. Roland thought she deliberately avoided his eyes.

"Your drapes are perfect, Rhiannon. The color of sunshine, and still heavy enough to keep it out. They look wonderful."Tamara's hand rested gently upon Rhiannon's arm .

"Tamara, you scared me half to death."Eric pulled her into his arms and squeezed her hard.

"Next time you get the notion to go off on your own, would you check with me, please?"

"Why should I?"She thrust her chin up at him, but slanted a glance toward Roland.

"Because I love you, Tamara. If anything should hap pen to you..."He closed his eyes and shook his head."It would kill me. You know that."

Again she looked at Roland, her glare as piercing as a blade. When she faced Eric again, her expression softened."I know. I'm sorry I worried you."

She kissed him lingeringly, and Roland averted his gaze. He noticed Rhiannon had turned away, too.

Frederick had mounted the ladder and was fitting candles into the holders.

Tamara turned to him.

"It's late, Frederick. Why don't we leave the rest for another time?"

He nodded, fit one last candle into place, and climbed slowly down.

Rhiannon picked up her case and walked through the double doors into the bedroom. She put it on the bed, and began unpacking.

Eric went in behind her.

"Getting those vials was quite a coup, Rhiannon. I might be able to find a way to nullify the drug's effects, given time."

"I was hoping that would be the case."She cleared her throat.

"I learned a bit while I was in the hotel room. The man who attacked me is not with DPI. He calls himself Lucien."

Roland's attention was caught. As Tamara hustled Jamey and Frederick toward the door, shooing Pandora out with them, Roland moved into the bedroom.

She didn't look at him, only kept removing things from her case, sorting them into neat stacks on the bed.

"No one in DPI knows about this castle. Only Curtis Rogers and this Lucien.

He convinced Curtis to tell him while I was listening in. He offered to help capture me, in exchange for certain ... privileges."

"What sort of privileges?"Roland couldn't keep quiet any longer.

Rhiannon barely spared him a glance.

"He asked if Curtis would tranquilize me to the point of absolute helplessness and then let him have me alone for as long as he needed."

Tamara gasped from the doorway. Roland swore fluently.

Rhiannon shook her head.

"He wants to be transformed. I imagine that is the only thing he would force me to do. Not that I intend to give him the chance."

Roland paced toward her.

"Why you? Why doesn't he target one of us?"

"He said because I was the oldest. He wants high-proof blood, Roland."

It was the first time she'd addressed him directly. Her eyes still looked like those of a wounded animal, and he realized all over again how deeply he had hurt her.

Eric put a hand on Rhiannon's shoulder.

"We all care about you, Rhiannon. For that reason, we hope you won't take any more unnecessary risks."

She faced him head-on.

"I will not cower in a corner and wait for them to come for me. They will be the ones cowering before I finish.

They will wish they'd never heard my name."

Tamara touched Eric's arm, and tilted her head toward the door. He sent Roland a sympathetic glance before they left. Alone with Rhiannon, Roland had no idea what to say.

"I, um ... I'm glad you came back."

"I am only here because of Tamara. She is frightened for Jamey and she asked me to stay, and help protect him."

He nodded. She opened the drawer of an empty dresser."They might be rather stale-smelling. Haven't been used in a while,"he said.

She drew a small package from her case.

"I brought some cedar chips."

She sprinkled some of them into the drawer.

"You haven't said anything about the drapes. How much do you hate them?"

He drew a deep breath.

"Actually, I'm beginning to feel glad you convinced me to allow it. The entire place feels.."warmer."

"Then you won't mind that I bought a bedspread and some throw pillows to match."

He shook his head slowly.

"No. I don't mind."He felt his eyelids growing heavy, his body slowing gradually. He reached inside his jacket and removed a vial of Eric's revivifying potion.

Rhiannon frowned.

"Perhaps you shouldn't. You look tired."

He only shook his head, "Rhiannon, do you feel as if you need to prove something to me?"

Her gaze lowered all at once.

"No, Roland. Not anymore."

There was a finality in her tone that hit him with staggering force.

Was she giving up on her relentless pursuit of him, then? Why on earth should that make him feel so utterly miserable?

He shook off the feeling of desolation, and downed the potion.

"Good. Because you never did, you know."She said nothing, only continued piling clothes into drawers."I've never doubted your abilities, Rhiannon. Your strength, your courage, your utter boldness in facing danger."

She stopped in the act of sorting nightgowns, holding a sheer black peignoir out before her. She frowned over it.

"For a woman, you mean?"

"That is not what I mean. I wouldn't have wished to face you in battle as a human. I still wouldn't."

She draped the gown over the back of a chair, and Roland's mouth went dry when he realized she probably I i intended to wear it. He couldn't help envisioning her pale, :[ smooth limbs beneath the translucent gauze. She scooped up a handful of clothing and moved toward the wardrobe, to begin hanging them. Standing with her back to him, she shook her head.

"I don't understand you at all, Roland. If you don't think of me as inferior, then why do you dislike me so?"

"I do not dislike you."I dislike the things you do."She finished hanging clothes, and turned, tilting her head.

"Which things?"

"Outrageous things, Rhiannon. Things that put you at risk. Like... like singing in that tavern, for example."She smiled fully, and her eyes sparkled.

"Ah, but To- land, it was such great fun. And you have to admit, I'm not bad."She frowned then.

"Was that it, you think I sing horribly?"He closed his eyes. Truly, she was exasperating.

"You have the voice of an angel."She seemed to glow with his praise.

"Really?"He nodded.

"It's that you were drawing so much attention to yourself. I only want you to be careful."

"The only attention I wished to draw was yours.""Then you ought to have come here, and sung to me in private."She opened her mouth to reply, but he continued speaking.

"It's not only the singing. It's all the other risks you take.

Flirting with Rogers that first night. Slipping into his hotel room tonight.

"He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture.

"Can't you see that my anger at you was because I was afraid for you?"She studied him so intently that he had a brief surge of hope she might actually be listening. Then, "If I had come to the castle, to sing to you in private, would you really have listened?"

He clapped a hand to his forehead.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

She waved a hand.

"Of course, I have. You dislike my risky adventures. You dislike my every behavior. No doubt, you dislike the way I dress, as well."

"In public, Rhiannon, it wouldn't hurt to try a bit harder to blend in, for your own protection."

"I knew it. Well, Roland, where shall I begin? Shall I fashion a dress from a feed sack?"Her voice grew louder, her words tumbling out in a rush of anger.

"Would that please you? Shall I slouch when I walk, so my height isn't so noticeable? Or maybe I should begin by hacking off my hair. It's probably my most conspicuous feature, wouldn't you say?"She strode away from him, and began a frantic search of the chambers, opening every drawer and cupboard and chest.

Roland gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him.

"Stop it."

"No. There are scissors here, somewhere. I know there are. I'll even let you do the honors, Roland. Just"-- He shook her.

"Stop it! You know that isn't what I meant."

"No, I don't. I don't understand you at all. If I dress and behave as a widow in mourning, will that make you want me, Roland? If I suddenly become a blushing wallflower, will you find me desirable then?"

"You want to know how desirable I find you?"He glared at her, his rage blending with his passion to overwhelm his common sense. He knew he should release her, leave the chamber this instant before she drove him too far.

The beast within, taunted to wakefulness by his anger, his fear for her, and his desire, was on the rampage.

But her scent twined through his brain, eliciting the memory of her the previous day, lying all but naked be fore him. The taste of her seemed to come to life upon his lips. The way her breasts had looked, and how they'd responded to his touch.

His lips had been so close to them. His hunger for her whipped the beast to a frenzy and he shuddered with the force of it.

"You want to know how much I desire you?"he repeated. He looked down into her blazing eyes, and knew it was too late to battle the beast inside.