"Sure, why?"

"Oh, man, that was weak. What's going on?"

"No, really. I'm fine. It's probably just this God-awful weather."

"You're the one who wanted to move far away from sunny California."

"Yeah.” Sarah sighed deeply and said again, more softly, “Yeah."

"Okay, that's it. We need to get you out of that two-horse town. I think a vacation is definitely in order."

"I can't, Cyn. Even if I had the money, which I don't—"

"I've got—"

"—I can't take the time off. I'm teaching two classes and they've loaded me up with committee work. I'm the new kid, I'm untenured and I'm female, which means I get all the crap assignments, because they know I can't refuse."

"A weekend,” Cyn insisted. “The university won't collapse if you take a weekend off. Come on. Somewhere close. What's close to that place? Niagara Falls? Hell, no,” she answered herself. “Full of tourists and all that water, which is probably frozen stiff by now. Wait! Where's my head? Manhattan! You're like an hour away by air, and my God, Sarah, the stores!"

"Cyn, I can't. Besides, we'll never get a hotel—"

"Who needs a hotel? My father has a townhouse or a condo or something. It's always empty this time of year. He hates the cold."

"Okay, fine. One weekend, Cyn. That's it."

"What a grouch. Is this what happens when you become a professor? You're not wearing tweed, are you?"

Sarah laughed at last. A real laugh this time, not the forced, polite one from before. “No, no tweed. That stuff itches. I'll figure out which airline to call and—"

"No, I'll make all the arrangements. I don't trust you. Any weekend in particular good for you?"

"No, they're pretty much all the same,” Sarah admitted, contemplating her dreary life.

"Well, Jesus, Sarah. No wonder you need a vacation. Okay. Let me talk to Raphael and I'll get back to you. This is going to be fun!"

"If you say so."

"Work on that attitude, girl. I'll call you back."

Sarah pulled the phone away from her ear, feeling abruptly deflated as Cyn disconnected. She could have told Cyn about the dreams. Cyn would have understood, would have tried to help. After all, she was living with a vampire, for God's sake. What was a little telepathic dreaming compared to having your lover suck your blood every night? But Sarah had never told anyone. Not since she'd gotten out of that place.

Maybe Cyn was right. She'd been under a lot of stress with the new job and the move across the country to a city she'd never even visited, except for her job interview. And Buffalo was so different from L.A. or even Berkeley, especially Berkeley.

She stared at the backlit screen of her cell phone until it went black, then slid it into her pocket and went back to her blue books. There were pills one could buy over the counter now, sleeping pills that worked as well or better than some prescription meds. Maybe she'd stop at the drug store on her way home. Bad enough that Cynthia would show up looking like a runway model; there was no need for Sarah to look like five months of bad weather. Even if she was living in Buffalo.

Chapter Three

Malibu, California

Raphael stood in front of the full-length mirror, automatically sliding the red length of a silk tie beneath his collar as he watched Cynthia move absently around the room behind him. His Cyn was normally a direct woman, but there were times . . . Usually when she wanted something she knew he would resist. He smiled, meeting her eyes in the mirror as she came up behind him.

"I'll do that,” she said, and slipped around in front, taking the tie and running it through her elegant fingers.

He surrendered it willingly, always pleased when she ministered to him, which wasn't often. She was fiercely loyal. She would, and had, killed to defend him and his. But she didn't take to what in his day would have been considered the more womanly chores. He almost laughed out loud at the thought.

She caught the edge of his smile and scowled up at him. “What are you thinking, vampire?"

"Only of how much I enjoy having you fix my tie for me."

She squinted doubtfully. “Uh huh.” She finished knotting the silk and reached up to turn his collar down. She had to stand on tiptoes to reach behind his neck and he put his hands on her hips, steadying her and pulling her closer, enjoying the press of her full breasts against his chest. She raised her face to his, and he indulged himself in a long, slow exploration of her delicious mouth, feeling the soft warmth of her breath against his cheek.

His body responded to her as it always did, his cock stirring eagerly, as hungry for the taste of her as if they hadn't just made love less than an hour ago. He slid his hands from her hips to the firm curve of her ass, pulling her close and let her feel his arousal. “Trying to ply me with sex, my Cyn?"

"I don't need to ply you,” she murmured against his mouth. “You're already mine."

He smiled. “True enough, lubimaya. Why don't you just ask whatever it is?"

She stiffened in his arms and his smile grew.

"Whatever what is?” she demanded.

He laughed out loud, and she drew back enough to slap his chest, immediately smoothing the spot as if afraid she'd hurt him. “Damn vampire."

"Ah, but I am yours, am I not?"

She wrapped both arms around his neck. “I was thinking,” she admitted slowly. He gave her a smug smile and she scowled up at him. “I want go to New York this weekend."

He frowned. “It's snowing there."

"But it's Manhattan—shopping, clubs, museums. What's a little snow?"

He raised one eyebrow and she clicked her tongue in disgust. “Fine. You remember my friend Sarah?"

He hadn't met that many of her friends, but the name . . . “The one in the bar?” he asked, doubtfully.

"That's the one. Something—or someone—is bothering her. I want to know what. She's in Buffalo,” she said with a grimace of distaste. “As if that's not enough to get someone down, but I don't think that's it. Or not just that, anyway. I'm going to meet her in Manhattan for the weekend."

"Are you?” She glared up at him and he added, “I cannot let you go to Manhattan alone, my Cyn."

Her glare turned to a look of interest. “My father has a place there. I'm sure—"

"I too have a place,” he chided her gently. “With far more suitable accommodations than your father's. But it is not a simple matter for me or my mate to travel to another's territory.” He drew a long breath, thinking about Cyn's request and how it might serve a purpose of his own. “One weekend, lubimaya, no more."

She grinned, standing on tiptoe again to kiss him hard on the mouth. “I love you,” she whispered.

"I know,” he said smugly.

She slapped his chest again. “Say it."

"You are my heart, my soul, my life."

Her lovely green eyes filled with tears and she coughed to cover her emotion. “Should I talk to Duncan?"

"I will do so. Arrangements will need to be made with Krystof and with Rajmund, who runs the city for him."

His phone rang and he turned to pick it up from the desk. “Duncan,” he said, answering. “A few moments, thank you.” He hung up. “Do you have plans for the evening?"

"I'm sparring with Elke later, and maybe Mirabelle, and then I need to check on some Internet searches I've got going and send off a few reports. Nothing major."

"I will have Duncan coordinate with you then.” She grabbed him when he would have turned away, fisting her fingers in his short hair and pulling his head down for a deep, lingering kiss.

"We could stay in and have wild monkey sex all night instead. It's cold and raining up there."

"He glanced at his watch. “Three hours, my Cyn, and then I will permit you to ply me with sex until morning."

She gave him a wicked look. “You've got a deal."

He took his jacket from the closet and shrugged it over his shoulders, standing still while she smoothed his tie and straightened his lapels. “I do love you, you know,” she said.

"And I you, lubimaya."

Raphael sat at the conference table, watching as Duncan ushered the last of their human guests out of the room. He could feel the surf pounding against the cliff below, vibrating the floor beneath his feet. It was one of the reasons he'd chosen this location to build his home. He loved the ocean, the primal energy, the smell and feel of it, the silver shimmer of the moon on the black water.

"My lord.” Duncan closed the door and crossed the room, taking the chair to Raphael's right. “It went well, I thought."

"It did, Duncan. As much as I dislike dealing with humans, this investment is promising.” He pushed his chair back and crossed his legs at the knee. “Tell me, is Rajmund still requesting a meeting?"

Duncan showed his puzzlement at the change of subject. “He is, my lord."

"Cynthia wants to visit Manhattan."

Duncan frowned. “It's very cold there this time of year."

Raphael met his lieutenant's eyes and smiled. “My reaction, as well. Unfortunately, Cyn is convinced her friend Sarah is in need . . . of a friend, I suppose one would say."

"I see."

"Make the arrangements, please, Duncan. Check with Cyn on the date and use our people for everything, including Sarah's travel. She is Cyn's friend, not mine. I know very little about her."

"I understand, my lord. What of Krystof?"

"I will contact Krystof, but we both know who the true Master of Manhattan is."

"Shall I call Rajmund, then?"

Raphael nodded. “You know what we want, Duncan."

"My lord.” Duncan bowed slightly and left the room.

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