Vicki's eyes widened. One hand flew to her throat.

"You are safe from me, my sweet one," he said quietly. Rising, he reached for his bloodstained shirt and shrugged it on. He needed to feed before he sought his rest.

"Should you go out there now?" Victoria asked. "What if Falco's waiting? Or Duncan?"

"I must go."

"You're going out to… hunt, aren't you?"

He didn't deny it.

"Please don't go."

" Victoria, I appreciate your concern more than you know, but I need to feed to restore my strength. If I do not, I will grow weaker. I cannot afford that now." He needed to be strong if he was going to protect her. It had become his reason for existing. He had not realized how empty his existence had become until he met her. Knowing she would be there when he rose filled each night with new possibilities.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Does what hurt?"

"When you bite them, does it hurt?"

"No. It can be most pleasurable, especially if one is willing."

"Pleasurable! How? I had a dog bite me once. Believe me, there was nothing pleasant about it."

"But I am not a dog, my sweet one. The bite of a vampire can be a sensual thing. There are those who are addicted to it."

Hardly aware of what she was doing, she lifted a hand to her throat.

Battista followed the movement, his gaze again settling on the hollow of her throat. He listened to the beat of her heart, his nostrils filling with the sweet scent of her life's blood. He smelled the heat of her skin. It mingled with the scent of toothpaste and shampoo, soap and deodorant. And woman. A woman who was in the prime of life, vibrant and untouched.

He felt the prick of his fangs against his tongue as his hunger thrummed within him. No man had ever touched her. No vampire had ever tasted her. It was a potent combination, and a powerful temptation. No wonder Falco wanted her.

He rose abruptly. "I must go."

"Wait." She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her breathing erratic. "Promise me you'll only take a little."

She heard the words and couldn't believe that she had said them. Only days ago she had been so sure she would never ask him to do such a thing.

Battista stared at her, unable to believe his ears, afraid to believe for fear she was playing some cruel joke. He clenched his hands at his sides to keep from pulling her into his arms. "You need not do this."

"No, I want to. If you're going out tonight, you need to be strong."

He held out his hand. "Come, then."

Putting her hand in his, she followed him into the living room. He sat down on the sofa, drawing her down beside him.

"Relax," he murmured. "I will not hurt you."

She swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on his.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Please."

She did as he asked, her body tensing as he drew her into his arms. His kiss was gentle, his lips warm. He kissed her for a long time until she relaxed in his arms. He stroked the line of her back, kissed her cheeks, the curve of her throat.

She moaned softly, lost in a mindless sea of pleasure. He nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear, laved it with his tongue. She felt a brief sting, like a mosquito bite, and then the heat of his mouth on her skin.

A distant part of her mind told her she should be afraid, she should push him away, what he was doing was horribly, terribly wrong, but she didn't care. Never had anything felt so wonderful.

She whimpered softly when he drew his mouth away. She looked up at him through a red haze, or was it that his eyes were red? She felt a tiny spark of fear push its way through the lassitude that suffused her. What if Duncan had been right? What if she was in danger? She tried to be concerned, but being afraid required too much energy.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and drifted away.

Battista cradled Victoria in his arms. A drop of blood slid down her neck. He watched it a moment before licking it away. Never had he tasted anything so sweet. The heart he had thought long dead stirred within his breast as he gazed down at her. Never had he seen anything more beautiful, or more vulnerable.

He held her through what remained of the night, memorizing each feature, imprinting her face in his mind for that day in the future when he would have to let her go.

Sensing the coming of dawn, he carried Victoria to bed and tucked her under the covers, then brushed a kiss across her cheek.

"Sogni dolci, il mio amore," he murmured. Sweet dreams, my love.

Chapter 22

Bobbie Sue stood in the middle of her living room, trying to decide which costume to wear to work, when Duncan came to call.

"I didn't expect to see you today," she said.

"If you're busy, I can come back later."

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm just surprised to see you, that's all." She smiled at him.

"Surprised, but pleased." She took a step back. "Come on in."

He followed her into the living room, noting the bright yellow walls, the white wicker furniture, the colorful throw pillows.

"What's all this?" He gestured at the sofa, which was covered with brightly colored dresses, hats, scarves, and a variety of wigs.

"Oh, that. I'm trying to decide whether to be a cheerleader, Cleopatra, or the bride of Frankenstein."

"Oh, right. It's Halloween."

"Gus likes us to wear costumes to work." She held up a slinky black dress and a long black wig. "I could go as Vampira… Oh, geez, that would be in really bad taste, wouldn't it?" She tossed the dress and the wig aside. "I suppose I could just go as a waitress."

She sat on the love seat and patted the cushion beside her. "Come, sit down and tell me what you're going to do tonight."

"Nothing much."

"You look a little blue. Is anything wrong?"

"I was hunting Falco last night and found Battista instead."

"Found him where?"

"With a dead girl in his arms."

"Oh, no! Poor Vicki. Does she know?"

"I told her about it last night. I just hope she takes my advice and stays away from him."

"I think she's in love with him."

Duncan grunted softly. What was it about vampires that women found so irresistible?

He thought of Marisa and Kelly. Did they ever regret accepting the Dark Trick to be with their vampire lovers? He couldn't imagine giving up his humanity, or never again watching the sun rise on a new day. Nor did he want to give up the pleasure of eating a good steak, or enjoying a good cup of strong black coffee first thing in the morning, or an ice-cold beer on a hot summer day.

He grunted softly. "Do you think she knows where his lair is?"

"I don't know. I could ask her."

"Thanks." It was a slim hope. Even if Vicki knew where Battista took his rest during the day, he was pretty sure she wouldn't tell him. That was another thing about women who were infatuated with vampires. They were fiercely loyal. Still, asking Vicki couldn't hurt.

He needed all the help he could get, because he sure wasn't having any luck on his own. "I haven't been able to find Falco's resting place, either," he muttered glumly. "The man's as elusive as quicksilver."

"I guess you'll be leaving town after you find him."

"I was planning to, but now… " Duncan took a deep breath. He had never been at ease with women. Give him a stake and show him a vampire and he knew what to do, but put him in a room alone with a woman he was attracted to, and he behaved like a bumbling, tongue-tied idiot.

"But now?" Bobbie Sue coaxed.

He ran a ringer around his shirt collar. "I've been thinking about settling down, you know, finding another line of work."

"Oh? Were you thinking of settling down in any place in particular?"

He cleared his throat. "This seems like a good place."

"Oh, it is." She leaned toward him. "Wouldn't you like to kiss me, Tom?"

"Very much."

"Well?"

Scooting closer, he slipped one arm around her waist. And still he hesitated.

With a soft laugh, Bobbie Sue slid her hand around his nape, pulled his head down, and kissed him. It was like touching a match to a flame. The sparks she had never felt with Steve shot through her like a bolt of electricity.

She was breathless when they parted.

"You were right," he said, his voice ragged. "This is a good place."

Chapter 23

"Trick or treat!"

Vicki opened the front door, smiling at the trio of children standing on the porch.

Spiderman, Frodo, and Harry Potter looked up at her, all holding pillowcases that were already bulging with goodies.

She dropped a candy bar in each bag, waved to the mothers waiting patiently on the sidewalk, and closed the door.

For the next half hour, there was a steady stream of trick-or-treaters ringing her doorbell, from cute little angels and devils to teenagers wearing hideous masks. She had just picked up her handbag and keys and taken a last look in the mirror to make sure her Tinkerbell wings were straight when the doorbell rang again.

"Oh, I love your costumes," Vicki said, glancing from a very realistic-looking Darth Vader to an equally impressive R2-D2.

"Thank you," said the taller of the two in a high-pitched voice. "I hate to impose, but could we use your restroom? My little boy needs to go."

"Oh, sure, come in." Vicki held the screen door open for Darth Vader and her son.

Darth Vader gave R2-D2 a little push, then followed him inside.

"It's this way," Vicki said. She started down the hall, then stopped when she heard the front door close. Turning, she saw Darth Vader standing close behind her. There was no sign of R2-D2.

Fear snaked down Vicki's spine. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but no words came out.

And then Darth Vader removed her mask.

And Vicki found herself staring into Dimitri Falco's cold yellow eyes.