“Hello again, Aunt Roxy.” I was delighted to see her name pop up on my cell phone’s display. “Are you still enjoying Australian men?”

“I was, but then Richard got called back to work three days early, so now we’re home. What did you mean by your text?”

“Which one?” I asked, setting down a pamphlet advertising a boat tour around the La Spezia harbor.

“The one where you said that Allie kicked you out of the Czech Republic. What on earth did you do? You didn’t try to ... oh lord ... tell me you didn’t fling yourself on Christian, did you? I know he’s adorable and has a voice that sounds like velvet, but trust me when I say that he’s not for you. I told you about Beloveds, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but—”

“I told you how for every unredeemed Dark One there’s just one single woman out there—or two, if you’re Christian and one of those women is Joy, but we’ll ignore that because really Joy was crazy picking Bob over Christian.”

“Joy?” I asked, not recognizing the name.

“Another friend; you don’t know her. And I don’t want you thinking that I don’t love Allie, because I do, and I think she’s just perfect for Christian—where was I?”

“You were telling me the rules about Beloveds. Not that I need you to, because I’ve read the books, and I know about the steps—”

“The steps! That’s what I was going to tell you. Each vampire goes through these seven steps that tell him the woman in question is his Beloved.”

“I know about the steps—”

“The first one is marking, and then there’s protection from afar, followed by a spit swap—actually, it’s any bodily fluid, but Allie says that most vamps do that by kissing—and then a few more steps. Somewhere in there is the woman saving the vampire from his darker self, which I think is just the most romantic thing ever. I mean, who wouldn’t want a sexy vamp after you saved him from his bad self?”

“Aunt Roxy—”

“I’m just explaining why Allie got upset when you made a move on Christian, that’s all. Don’t take it personally.”

“I didn’t try to do anything to Christian!” I almost yelled into the phone, immediately dropping my voice when I realized the French doors to the balcony were open. “I barely said hello to the man before he was bustling me out of the castle and insisting I go off to the Italian Riviera, where I’m supposed to meet my friend Ellis in a week.”

“Oh.” Roxy was silent for a few seconds. “Then what did you do to piss off Allie?”

“I don’t know!” I spent the next fifteen minutes giving her an account of my movements in the Czech Republic, excluding the sexual hijinks that the nearly dead vampire and I got up to.

“Well. You have had a time. Hmm.” Roxy mulled over my story. “You know what I think it is? I think it’s you being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Christian is the head honcho of all the vampires, and I bet you got caught in something that was going on, and they got you out of there for your own good.”

“Yes, but now I’m ahead of schedule. I’m here in Italy seven days ahead of my friend Ellis, although I suppose I can move up the meeting with Cousin Carlo.”

“Cousin Carlo? I don’t recall having a cousin with that name.”

“He’s one of Papa’s cousins. Mom suggested that since I was now free of the cult and could see anyone I wanted, that I reconnect with family members. That’s why Ellis and I are in this part of Italy—so I can meet Carlo.”

“Ah, that makes sense. And good for you for stretching your familial wings that way.”

I sighed. “The problem is that this was supposed to be my vampire time, not Cousin Carlo time. I don’t suppose you know of any Italian vampires? I’d be willing to travel to see one, although I realize that sounds kind of desperate. Oh, just ignore me. I’m acting like a baby because part of my plans fell through.”

“You’re not acting like a baby at all. I’d be disappointed if I went to Europe to see Dark Ones and didn’t get to do more than be hustled out of Christian’s castle ... although, to be fair, he did that once to Joy and me ... but I’m afraid I don’t know of anyone you could ask for help other than Allie.”

My heart sank. I flopped down in one of the plastic white chairs on the balcony, enjoying the warmth of the sun even as my spirits took a nosedive. “I guess I could call her. Even if I was in the way while I was there—and honestly, I can’t see how that is possible since I was only there for one night—she wouldn’t hang up on me, would she?”

“No, of course not. Call her. Worst-case scenario: you be a tourist until your friend gets there.”

We chatted for a little while longer, but Roxy was anxious to get unpacked, and I wanted to talk to Allie.

“I’m sorry you feel like we didn’t want you,” the latter said a half hour later, when I managed to get her on the phone. “I assure you it had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with Christian being overly cautious.”

“You said that yesterday when you bundled me on the train, but I still don’t understand why he would think I was some danger to the vampire who was left there.”

“It’s not that at all. He was thinking of your welfare, since the pink-haired man saw you.”

I grimaced at nothing. “If Spiky Pink Hair would hunt me down because I knew he saved a vampire’s life—and I can’t imagine he’d do that, since he seemed more concerned about himself—I am certainly no threat to him. Even if I wanted to tattle on him, I don’t know his name or who his boss is.”

“No, but ... it’s complicated ...” Allie hesitated, then said softly, “Oh, to hell with it. I’m going to trust you with the truth. After all, you’re Roxy’s niece, and when she asked if you could visit, she swore up and down that you were as trustworthy as she is.”

“I am, I really am,” I said, both flattered that my aunt would think so much of me and intrigued by Allie’s statement.

“Hang on a minute.”

There was a rustling noise and a brief muted conversation, immediately followed by the sound of footsteps lightly running down what I imagined was one of the castle’s stone hallways.

“OK,” Allie’s voice came hushed and somewhat breathless. “I’m away from the kids. I’m going to tell you what happened, but you have to promise not to talk about it to anyone else, because it involves the safety of four men. Four Dark Ones.”

“I promise I won’t breathe a word,” I exclaimed, glancing around my little balcony to make sure no one could overhear me. Since I was the only person crazy enough to sit out in the midday sun, I was safe enough from eavesdroppers. “And thank you for trusting me. I won’t let you down.”

“There is this group of people called the Revelation.”

“Revelation like ... in the Bible?” I asked, confused.

“No, evidently it’s the name of some corporation. An evil corporation. Anyway, a few years ago we started hearing about this group called the Revelation. They were advertising at folk festivals and similar events about vampires who would come to your party and entertain.”

“Like clowns?”

“No, do vampire things for the entertainment of those present.”

“Um ... do you guys do that?”

“No! Not real Dark Ones, anyway, but you know how it is—there’s a huge vampire fandom out there, and lots of people like to live the lifestyle and believe they are vamps when they really aren’t. Anyway, we just assumed it was that, but then one day Merrick’s sister went to one of the parties, and wasn’t seen again.”

“Who’s Merrick?” I asked, having lost track of the players.

“The vampire you found on our doorstep. His sister Renata was seeing a man who we only know as Edward, who evidently was one of the high mucky-mucks in the Revelation. He invited her to attend one of their parties.”

“What happened to her?” My gut tightened. I had a bad feeling I wasn’t going to like the answer.

Allie was silent for the count of fifteen. “Her body was found two months later. She’d been raped and ... brutalized.”

“Oh my goodness,” I said, sick at the thought, of both the poor woman having gone through such a horror and her family dealing with the tragedy. “That’s just appalling.”

“Renata is a Moravian—a female Dark One. Do you know about them?”

I thought hard. “They don’t have to drink blood like the males, but can if they want, right?”

“Yes. Merrick found Edward, and ... well, you can imagine what he did.”

“Glorioski. He didn’t kill him, did he?” Had I bonked a murderer? No wonder my father wanted to keep me away from men—clearly I lacked any sort of ability to discern evil from good.

“No, although I gather it was a near thing. Merrick brought Edward before the Moravian Council, the group that polices Dark Ones. He was tried and convicted, and is currently imprisoned in Merrick’s villa.”

“What a relief,” I said without thinking, slumping back into my chair.

“I beg your pardon?” Allie sounded mildly outraged.

“Oh, I just ... I meant because I ... we ... uh ...” I gave a little cough and stopped.

“You didn’t by any chance engage in some carnal activities when you fed Merrick?” Allie asked, the outrage changing to amusement. “Don’t be embarrassed if you did—it’s a very common effect, given the nature of the feeding. I mean, what could be more intimate? Although generally it’s limited to Beloveds, it can happen when the respective parties are not engaged otherwise.”

“Oh, good,” I said, slumping even more. “I was worried I’d have to have my lady garden exorcised or something. Although if Merrick didn’t kill anyone, then the point is moot. I don’t blame him for hunting down his sister’s killer.”

“No more do I. Regardless of our feelings, the Revelation is now threatening Dark Ones, and the Four Horsemen specifically.”

“The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?” I asked, startled.

She laughed. “No, although I take it that was the source of their name. The Four Horsemen is the name that Merrick and three other Dark Ones have given themselves. They are more or less an elite police force that tackles any threats that affect vampires and mortals alike. Right now they’re focused on the Revelation.”

“Gotcha. How ... er ... how is Merrick?”

“He was fine when I last saw him. He’s gone now.”

For some reason that I couldn’t pinpoint—and admittedly didn’t particularly want to analyze—my spirits dropped even lower at that news. I had a sudden yearning to see Merrick again, to look in those lovely eyes, and to feel the cool silk of his hair on my cheek ... not to mention other parts of him visiting parts of me.

I shifted in the chair, and tried to think of something intelligent to say, but Allie covered the phone and murmured something I couldn’t hear, then came back and said with false brightness, “I’m so glad you’re settled. It was a pleasure seeing you. Do come back and visit us another time. I must be off. Christian wants to take the children out, and it means loads and loads of sunscreen for him. Good-bye!”

She hung up before I could thank her for her thoughtfulness, leaving me with much to think over.

And think I did. For a day I kicked around the hotel and town, doing tourist things, but not really present—my mind seemed to be caught up with the idea of seeing Merrick again, and ... and ... “And what?” I asked myself the following night, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “And holding him? Offering him comfort for the pain of losing his sister in such a horrible manner? Having incredibly awesome sex again?”

Inner Tempest liked that idea a whole lot. I told her she was a shameless hussy, and pretended I didn’t wholeheartedly agree with her. “What you need,” I told my reflection, “is something to distract your hoohaw from the idea of Merrick and his hoohaw. Hmm. Do men have hoohaws? Maybe they have a manhaw?” I sighed, and padded out of the bathroom, and onto the bed, punching the pillow a few times to make it comfortable.

“Let’s see. You have six days before Ellis arrives to distract you from your complete lack of vampire in your life. One of those days was going to be for Cousin Carlo, but I guess I can see if he wants me early.”

One pleasant if slightly awkward phone conversation later, I was packing for departure to Carlo’s house in Genoa the following morning. Once there, I had to admit I was impressed how my father’s Italian side of the family was doing. The house had a huge fence around the perimeter of what looked like a large estate sitting high on a hill, with a view of the glittering sea beyond, white ships dotting the deep cerulean of the water. I showed my passport to the security camera at the gate, and after a few minutes, my taxi was allowed to enter the grounds, and deposited me at a solid white stone villa, all colonnades and large windows. Beyond the house, hills rose, dotted with olive and orange trees, brilliant red and yellow flowers, and the odd occasional palm tree swaying with stately grace in the breeze that lifted off the harbor.

“Hi, I’m Tempest,” I said to the man who opened the door. “Are you Carlo?”

“No,” the man said. He was a little taller than me, but built like a wrestler, with no neck, thick shoulders, and a barrel chest. He also had a nose that had clearly been broken more than once. But it was his eyes that sent little shivers of worry down my arms. They were a dull hazel color and completely devoid of any humanity. It was like looking at a photograph of eyes.

This must be what a sociopath looks like, Inner Tempest commented. I had to agree, but, despite that, forced a smile to my lips and entered the cool darkness of the house, stumbling blindly for a few seconds until my eyes adjusted from the dazzling sunshine to the dark interior.

I was taken to a room that was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, the white drapes fluttering in the breeze, a full view of the sea beyond. Sitting behind a desk that was cluttered with two laptops, several stacks of spreadsheet printouts, and a variety of what looked like medieval torture instruments was a man who bore absolutely no resemblance to my father.

“Hello. You must be Cousin Carlo. I’m Tempest.”

Carlo was probably twenty years older than me, balding with a rusty brown fringe of hair, and a thick Mario Bros. mustache. “Ah? Oh, Tempest.” He stood up and came around the desk to shake my hand. “You are welcome, very welcome. I’m pleased to see Raymond’s daughter at last. You had a good trip out? Yes? Good. You admire the view? Yes? Good. Giovanni! My cousin’s daughter will have a room that will give her a view of the sea. You will like to swim every day? Yes? It shall be as you desire. Giovanni will ensure a car is at your disposal.”

The man with the flat eyes took my luggage and, with a murmur in Italian, left the room. Carlo embraced me, kissing both cheeks. “It is very good to have you here. You like Italy, yes? There is a pool you may also swim in. You swim? Yes? Good. You will wish to see your room.” With an arm around me, he spun me around and marched me out of the room, and into the main hall, where a wrought iron and marble staircase curved upward in a graceful arc. “There is much to see in Genoa. You will wish to see it all, yes? Giovanni will see to anything you need. Dinner is at eight. You need not dress for it—we are very informal here. Ah, there is Giovanni now. He will see to it that you lack for nothing.”

Before I could do more than say hello and offer up a few stunted syllables as replies, which were summarily ignored, I was hustled up the stairs and deposited in an airy room with French doors that opened onto a lovely balcony.

My brief experience with Cousin Carlo pretty much set the standard for the rest of the day. Whenever I tried to have a conversation with him, intent on getting to know him, he seemed affable enough, but almost immediately fobbed me off onto Giovanni with an offer to go sightseeing, or shopping, or sailing, or any of the myriad other options available to tourists.

Needless to say, I dreaded time with Giovanni and his dead eyes. By the following morning, I had learned to stop trying to converse with Carlo, and kept to myself.

By that evening, I wandered through the grove of olive trees, wondering if it was something about me personally that Carlo objected to, or if he had a dislike of women in general. There were no other females in the house; I’d seen only two other people, both men, one of whom was the cook, and the other some sort of handyman-gardener.

“It’s got to be me,” I said morosely. “Or it’s Papa. Maybe Carlo found out about the cult, and figures I’m as crazy as Papa. In which case, what am I going to do?”

“Suffer,” a man’s voice said from behind me. I spun around, but a black bag was pulled down over my head and upper body. Before I could scream, the breath was knocked out of my lungs when the man picked me up and flung me onto his shoulder. “Suffer like you’ve never suffered before. And after that, you will tell me where I can find Victor. If you refuse, you’ll die.”

Anger washed over me, a foreign sort of anger, one fueled by a great sadness tinged with a sense of loneliness so profound, it left me speechless with despair.