Santino hadn't ducked or swatted it away, he had
just let it hit him. The same as he'd let me slap him, actually. And he said the
same thing, too, in the same caring voice. "Do you feel better?"

"No, I don't feel better! How can I feel
better when you've just announced you could care less  whether I'm in shape for
these
relationship-building sex romps you've got planned!"

He started to chuckle, the bastard. I wished I
had something else to throw at him.

"Do you realize that you misunderstand at
least half of everything I say?" Santino asked between laughs. "All I
meant was that no, it didn't matter if you had a headache, because making
love isn't on the agenda tonight, anyway."

"And you set the agenda, I suppose," I
scorned his show of reassurance. 

"Well, if I let you set it we'll never have
a relationship at all," Santino told
me. "And as long as you insist on staying human I've not got much choice
but to treat you as a human woman, which means--"

"You don't have to repeat yourself," I scathed, then
had to ask, "Well, why don't you just tell me the agenda so I can book you
some time?"

"I don't have it all planned out," he insisted.
"Except that tonight, I thought we might dance."

"That's all you wanted, a dance?" I echoed.
"Why did we have to get into all this, then?"

"Because you wouldn't dance," he explained in what I
suspected he thought his "patient" voice. "Maybe tomorrow, you
will."

"More like a hope," Santino sighed. Whatever he
might have said next was cut off by the sound of room service bringing my milk.

I warily sat on the overstuffed sofa, drinking it slowly so as
to stave off whatever other plans Santino might have cooked up for us. But when
at last I had finished, all he said was, "You're tired, so I'll be going,
now."

It was only midnight; he almost never left me so early. I
guess I must have looked surprised, for he explained, "The sunlight is good
for you and the baby, Nathalia. I don't want you sleeping all day like I
do."

"Good night, then," I said, only to be dumbfounded
when he came and gave me a long, deep kiss, his cool mouth open on mine.

"Think about what we discussed," he quietly
commanded. Then he left by means of the balcony, just stepping off the edge into
nothingness, and vanishing into the night.

The next night, I hunted before I went to Nathalia, even
changing into a fresh shirt when I noticed that the kill had somewhat soiled
mine. Black, I thought, looking down at myself. I wondered if she'd
really pick me out something less monotonous to wear.

Her shields were blazing away at full intensity before I so
much as set foot in the suite. In a way, I was glad to hear them. I'd been a
little concerned when she seemed to be having trouble with them; it smacked too
much of instability in her mind, a prospect which frankly terrified me. Now that
she had her barrier well under control, I didn't have to worry so much about
that.

No, now all I had to do was figure out what had made her so
defensive that she'd raise them before I even arrived. I let myself in through
the door, even using the key as a mortal might, because I wanted her to hear me
coming. I must say, what happened when I stepped through the door was the very
last thing I was expecting.

Nathalia threw herself straight into my arms and
wrapped her own tightly about me, as she gasped, "Oh, I'm so glad to see
you, so glad you're finally here! I thought I'd go insane waiting! D-- D-- Don't
leave me alone anymore tonight, please. Promise!"

"I promise," I instantly assured her. She was
gripping me so hard that I couldn't move without forcibly untangling her, so I
just stood there. Really, it was rather nice to feel her clinging to me,
although I recognized that for the selfish reaction it was, since she was quite
obviously terrified. Of what, I didn't know. What could scare Nathalia so
much that she'd come to me for help?

"What's the matter?" I gently asked. "Calm
down, now, and tell me, ragazza."

I heard her gulping for air, her panic mounting each time she
tried to speak. For the longest time, I feared she wouldn't be able to speak of
it, at all. Then finally, she came out with it. "Th-- There's another
vampire here, Santino!"

"Lestat?" I asked, the word clipped and furious. I
was getting damned tired of his interference between Nathalia and me. Although,
I realize now my gut reaction was ludicrous. Nathalia wasn't afraid of Lestat.
Well, not like this, at any rate.

"Shhhh, shhhh," I soothed her, stroking her back.
"It's all right. I'm with you. Nobody can hurt you if I'm with you, not
even a rogue vampire." Of course, that wasn't strictly true; there could be
some whose powers dwarfed mine, but I running into any was highly
unlikely. 

I scooped her off her feet and sat down in a large,
overstuffed chair, holding her crosswise on my lap. She leaned fully against me,
no longer stiff. Now she was almost melting into me. I had the feeling she was
trying her best to disappear. Of course her behavior was only  making me
more conscious of her potent mortal presence, not less; her face was tucked
securely into the hollow of my neck. Ah, I could feel her warm, moist breath
brushing my veins every time she breathed, and it was so unbearably erotic that
I could only be glad I'd already fed. I had fantasies of Nathalia biting me, you
see. I had them all the time. But I knew full well that nothing like that would
happen anytime soon. Quite possibly, never. If I could find a way to bring her
across, however--

Well, enough of that, I thought. "Okay," I said,
wrapping an arm around her shoulders so that I could tuck her more against my
shoulder than my neck, "tell me what happened. You saw a vampire?"

"No," she gasped, panic beginning to consume her
again, "one saw me!"

I didn't like the sound of this. Not. At. All. My eyes quickly
assessed the length of her, looking for bite marks, signs of a struggle,
anything. The only thing of note I saw was that she must have bought some new
clothes. "Were you attacked from behind, do you mean?"

"No, I ran and ran, and started shielding for all I was
worth, and the vampire vanished."

I was getting more confused, rather than less. "You
didn't see this vampire, and you weren't attacked, so what makes you think
there's another one here at all?"

Nathalia only grabbed me tighter, her small hands making fists
in my shirt. Ruining it, really, the silk was of a fine weave and very delicate.
Not that I cared, you understand. In fact, it would have been rather nice to
have her practically ripping my shirt from my torso, if it hadn't been terror
prompting the action.

"I heard him, Santino, I heard him!" she finally
groaned in explanation. Then her hands were off me as though I'd burned her, and
she was clutching both of them to her temples in remembrance. "Up here, I
heard him! It was horrible, just horrible!"

I pried her hands from her head, which was no mean feat. It
was a wonder she wasn't crushing her own skull. Holding both her wrists firm in
one of my large hands, I used the other to stroke the places she'd been
pressing. I could hear her pulse pounding away in tandem with her galloping
heartbeat, but even my most reassuring preternatural voice didn't appear to
truly calm her. Her agitation, I thought, was bad for the baby.

"You really do need to calm down, Nathalia," I told
her.

She began shaking uncontrollably, only giving further vent to
her hysteria instead of reining it in. "I... I can't!" she cried out.
Yanking her hands from my loose grasp, she began frantically biting and chewing
her own knuckles, and the way she was going about it, it wouldn't be long at all
before she drew blood.

"You have to!" I rebuked her, imprisoning her hands
once more. "Our little baby is feeling all this too, and I can't believe
it's going to be helpful for its development!"

She shook worse, even as she moaned, "Oh, Dear God,
you're right, I know you're right. Help me, Santino, help me calm down!"

Help her? What the hell could I do that I wasn't doing
already?

"Mesmerize me," she pleaded. "Please, put my
mind at peace so I can tell you what he said without it making things even worse
for the baby!"

Well, that request certainly stunned me. "Are you sure
you want that, Nathalia?"

"Yes!" she screamed, her desperation only growing,
and so I did as she had asked.

---Nathalia---



I never in a million years would have thought that I'd ask Santino to spellbind
me again, but of course I'd never expected to feel quite so frenetic as I did
just then. It was truly awful, what had happened to me that day. Not just the
fact that there was another vampire roaming Rarotonga, but that I could hear his
thoughts inside my own head!

Now, of course Santino had spoken directly into my mind on
more than one occasion. He used to do it all the time in Norway, mostly to taunt
me. He'd done it but rarely since we'd come to the islands; I think my shields
kept him out. When my shields were down, it sometimes happened; the last time,
it had actually hurt. That was an anomaly though, I think it had to do with the
tranquilizer I had taken. Anyway, that sort of communication wasn't
anything like what I'd experienced that day as I went out shopping.

No, this vampire, whoever he was, hadn't been thinking for me
to hear. He had simply been thinking, and I had picked up every word. 

That is, I had picked up every word until I threw my shields
up to ward away his thoughts. And I'd kept my barriers going like gangbusters
ever since, I was so horrified to hear thoughts in my head that weren't my own.
It was worse, much worse, than Lestat's little trick with the voices in my mind.
Those had been so numerous they'd formed a cacophony, sort of a continuous
drone. Nobody's individual thoughts were really discernible in the din.

This was different. Some strange vampire's thoughts bouncing
around in my head! I didn't like it, and that was before I realized what
he was thinking and what sort of danger I was in. I'd run like mad, of
course I had, and the whole time I was remembering Lestat's description of how
fast Marius could move when he'd been newly made -- bounding hundred of feet in
a few seconds, and all that. I knew full well that I couldn't get away, that I
was going to end up as a hot entrée after all, just not Santino's.

And that was when my mind started screaming, the noise
reverberating over and over inside my skull because of course with my shields
blasting away, the thought couldn't escape. And what was I screaming, as I
dashed through the dirt streets of Avarua to get back to the hotel? You guessed
it. One long chorus of Santino, help me, Santino!

Of course he didn't hear me, my shields blocked the cry for
help. When I got into our suite I bolted all the doors, and even as I did so I
knew it was a pitiful defense that any vampire could smash in a second. Then I
paced the living room in the suite, back and forth, back and forth, back and
forth, waiting for Santino until I truly believed I would lose my mind from the
tension. Horrible temptations assailed me. Call out to him, he'll be right
here with you. Sure he would. So would the other vampire I'd sensed. Forget
that. No matter how high my stress level ratcheted, I'd wait the good
old-fashioned way.

This would have to be a night when he took his own
sweet time coming by. He must have decided to feed first, I thought, and
then a truly terrible notion occurred to me. Good, I thought, I hope
he did. Fresh blood makes him strong and I need him strong tonight, I need him
to protect me. 

Well, I'm not perfect. I knew it was wrong to rejoice at his
kills --no matter what the rationalization-- but rejoice I certainly did. At
least I did just then. I felt plenty guilty for it later, but what else is new?

When Santino finally came, I was strung so tight I don't think
I was making much sense. Part of me wanted to dissolve into his great strength,
I was just so sick of feeling vulnerable, but I also really wanted to
pummel him for making me wait so long, even though I was glad that he had
obviously fed. His color was tinged olive, you see; his complexion shifted away
from white when he'd had a good hunt. Oh, I was just a total mess, and it only
got worse when I tried to explain. Every time I tried to talk, I remembered his
words inside my skull. I didn't want to repeat them, I really didn't -- it
would just make me relive the experience. 

But I knew I had to say them. How could Santino possibly
protect me if he didn't know what he was up against?

Calm down, calm down, he kept saying, but it didn't do
me any good at all. Only when he mentioned the baby did I realize how bad this
hysteria was. I hadn't been breathing quite normally for hours, and I'm sure my
adrenaline and God-knows-what-else were sky high. Dr. Hanson had even warned me
against letting my emotions go completely out of control. She had said that
Santino was worried about how I handled my anger! That was rich, considering all
he'd done to piss me off.

But I wasn't angry at him just then, I was too goddamned
scared to harbor him any ill will at all. And that's why, when he said I had to
calm down, I practically begged him to mesmerize me. At that moment, I knew for
sure it was the only way my mind would get clear of the panic that had me
in thrall. All things considered, I'd rather be in thrall to Santino.

And that was when it came to me --- I did trust him. Really
trust him. I didn't even have to wonder if he would make me do things I'd
rather not. Or if he would misuse whatever he might see in my mind. Those were
stupid questions, for he simply wouldn't. 

He loved me. 

Not perfectly, of course. Not even close. But as much as he
could, he did love me.

---Santino---

The minute she heard me agree to mesmerize her, I felt her
shields fall like great block walls toppling over. There was nothing of her
hesitation from last time, no tentative groping toward dissolving them. One
minute they were strong and true, and in the next, they had entirely ceased to
exist.

Her eyes were open and glinting like cut sapphires as she
stared straight into mine, the force of her gaze making them glow almost as a
vampire's might. Not for the first time, I had to wonder what the Dark Gift
would do with this one. She was so hauntingly beautiful already, I could
scarcely envision how my blood could intensify her appearance. Yet I knew
it would; I just had to hope I'd get to see it, someday.

"Hurry," Nathalia urged me, her voice thrumming with
anxiety. "Do it. Please!"

So I did. I marshaled all my thoughts toward hers, and let my
power flow through my eyes and into her willing gaze. It took almost no time at
all, this time, for she hadn't fought it, not even slightly. She was entirely
willing, which told me quite a bit about her state of mind. This other vampire
had absolutely devastated her equilibrium, I thought. It was sort of sad that it
took this much trauma to make her turn to me.

She slumped at once, her fists unfurling, her arms going slack
and falling from my body. I caught her body before it slid completely from my
lap, and held her with care as I whispered to reassure and calm her mind as well
as her body.

"Shhh, it's all right now," I told her, my quiet
tones ringing with safety and security. I could have spoken directly into her
mind, but I decided that it would do her more good to get her concerns fully out
into the open. Talking was catharsis, and if I spoke aloud, she would, too.
"Everything is perfectly all right. You're with me, Nathalia, you're in my
hands. You know no harm will come to you. Whoever else is on this island is no
threat."

Behind her closed eyelids, her eyes moved back and forth as
though she were reading the script I had spoken.

"Now tell me, dearest, tell me what you were doing today.
Don't think on anything troubling, not yet. Just talk of where you went and what
you saw. Think only of the sunlit hours."

A long, slow sigh lifted her chest. "It was hot today,
Santino. It's always so hot here. I turned up the air conditioning and that made
it a little better. Oh, Santino, I want to live somewhere cooler. I'm afraid to
tell you in case you tell me no, right back."

I almost lost my focus, at that, it was such unexpected
information. The temptation to pursue the matter pulsed in me, but I managed to
ignore it. Much harder to ignore was my immediate inclination to plant some
useful suggestions in her mind. Tell me what you need, Nathalia. Don't be
afraid to talk to me...

I didn't send those thoughts winging across to her, though. I
didn't want to take advantage of the trust she'd shown. And you know, I didn't
really want Nathalia to be some automaton that got along with me because I'd
programmed her to act that way. I wanted all of her, even the painful struggling
parts. 

So all I said was, "We'll talk later of where we might
live, my beauty. Right now, I want you to concentrate. Tell me what you were
doing today before the sun set."

Her closed eyes flicked back and forth again. "I was
sleeping, and eating, and sleeping again. And then it was late in the afternoon,
and finally not so very hot, so I went out. At first I just wanted a walk. But
then I saw some shirts for you, Santino, and I couldn't resist. I bought some.
Will you really wear them? I'm so tired of all your black."

"I'll wear them," I promised. "So you were out
shopping, was it still light out when you finished?"

"The sun was falling like a great orange sinking into the
sea," she rhapsodized. "I watched it from the pier until it was gone.
It's so sad when it goes down." All at once her voice fell to a despondent
whisper. "Don't make me change, please don't make me change. I love the
sunlight, Santino."

"Oh, Nathalia," I sighed. "I told you I would
wait until you asked."

Her hand, of its own volition, reached up to trace across my
features, her fingers trailing over my high angular cheekbones. "But you
only wish to mean that, Santino. You don't actually mean it. You aren't going to
watch me age and die. When you think I've had my allotment of mortal life,
you'll make me over into something else, and you'll tell yourself that it's love
making you deaf to my cries of no. Do you think I don't know that?"

I grabbed her hand and lovingly kissed each of her fingers,
one by one. She was right, so right. I could see the scene she painted in my
mind's eye, as clear and sharp as anything I'd ever beheld. I didn't know what
to tell her, what to say, for the truth was that I didn't think I could watch
her wither as the years went past. And yet I couldn't tell her that she was
fated to be with me forever whether it was her will or not.

I laid her hand down upon the gentle swell that defined the
child she carried. "Maybe you will ask, yes?"

She clenched her eyes, then, and tears squeezed out the
corners.

"Think about today only," I encouraged her.
"Nothing else. You bought some beautiful shirts for me?"

A slight, relaxed laughed vibrated through her shoulders as
she leaned upon my arm. "I think so, truly. I've no idea what you will
think. And once I started spending your money, it didn't seem nearly as awful to
get a few things for myself. Books, just a couple, and another dress, but it's
all gone, all of it, even your lovely shirts. I flung them aside when I heard
him."

At last we had reached the crux of the matter. She seemed calm
enough, which was a relief, but still, I gathered her closer and intensified the
light blazing from my eyes, to keep her enthralled, no matter what had passed
this day. "Tell me what you heard," I urged.

"A voice, but it didn't resonate through the air like it
should. It was inside my own head! At first I thought it must be you, who else
can do that, but no, no, no, that was all wrong, it wasn't you, I can't hear you
like that, thinking, thinking, thinking, and you don't think things like that
anyway, do you, at least not anymore."

Her pulse was accelerating again despite all my best efforts
to keep her relaxed.

"Shhh," I soothed again, leaning down to kiss the
wrinkles from her forehead. "You're with me, remember? I'm here to
help."

"You said you would always come," Nathalia murmured,
less panicked. "But that was in my dream. You weren't really there, you
weren't really talking."

"Yes, I was there, I put myself there," I told her.
"And I will always be there to help you, Nathalia. With whatever you need.
So breathe, now, just breathe, and remember that you are loved."

"Loved..." she repeated, but I couldn't tell if she
said it as a question, a complaint, or a affirmation.

"All right, that's fine," I hushed her. "Now,
one thing at a time, Nathalia. One small thing, don't go beyond my questions.
You heard someone thinking, you said?"

"Yes, thinking," she said, the words slurring
together as she obeyed my command to answer only what I had asked.

I thought back to her frantic ramblings. "But it was
random thoughts that you heard? I mean, not a deliberate message?"

"Yes, that's right, Santino....."

"Okay, good, that's fine, you're doing fine,
Nathalia." I badly wanted to tell her again that I loved her, but realized
I probably shouldn't. Not only had I told her I'd cut that out until she felt
more at ease with it, but in this context the words could be all too easily
misused. I wasn't trying to subject her undue influence; if her trust was ever
going to mean anything at all, she had to come to it on her own.

Unlikely as that seemed.

"Now, when you heard these thoughts, what did they say,
my beauty?" I asked.

She tensed, but not so much that I feared for her. All she
said, though, was "Many, many, things."

"Tell me one," I urged.

"There she is, she's the one," Nathalia dully
quoted.

"Are you sure that's what you heard?" I asked,
flabbergasted.

My suggestion that she only answer what I ask must have worn
thin by then, for Nathalia didn't answer me at all, she just went right on with
the thoughts that had so disturbed her.

"There she is, she's the one, she looks just like I
was told. Black hair, black black hair. Yeah, just like he said. Big fucking
surprise that he'd mention hair like that fifteen times. Hmm, but she isn't so
slender now, is she, she's put on some weight. No, not just weight, she's got
that glowing look that pregnant women have. Pregnant, eh? Wasn't expecting that.
Wonder if he knows. Wonder what a pregnant woman's blood tastes like, anyway? Do
you get to hear the baby's thoughts mixed in with the mother's? Wait, she's
running now, hey, wait---"

I was speechless for a long moment, trying to put all that
together.

"So you started to run, then?"

"And to shield," she sighed. "So I couldn't
hear anything else, not that I wanted to, but more so that he couldn't hear
me."

"He, you keep saying he, what makes you say that?"

I saw her eyelids start to flicker; she was coming out of her
trance, but that was all right. I didn't want to put her under again. "He
sounded like a he," she answered, her voice wobbling, and then she emerged
back into reality.

Her blue eyes looked at me, but she quickly looked away.
"Stop it, now," she said, and I realized that my eyes were still
glowing with the fire that had enthralled her.

"Okay," I answered, and did a little mental
switching to tamp my powers down. "You can look now."

She did. "So, did I tell you what happened?"

"Mmm-hmmm," I murmured, lost in thought.

"And what do you think?"

"I think you're right, there's another vampire on
Rarotonga."

Nathalia shifted in my arms until she could swing her legs to
the ground and stand up. Even so, she wobbled on her feet. "And he wants to
eat me!" she shrilly announced. "You heard that, too?"

"Yes, I heard," I confirmed. "But you know,
Nathalia, what worries me most is that this vampire is no random rogue who
happened to take notice of a beautiful mortal crossing his path."

"No?" she gasped, her hands atop her belly.

"No," I said. "Whoever he is, he knows Lestat.
In fact, it's almost certain that Lestat sent him here to find you."

"Lestat?" she echoed. "Why?"

"That's what I don't know," I grimly announced.

Chapter 24: Vernacular

"Stop shaking," Santino softly told me, pulling me
until I could feel the slipperiness of silk under my cheek. Black silk, of
course. I could only hope I survived long enough to buy him another set of new
shirts. "I've got you, Nathalia," he whispered as his large hands
stroked the small of my back, kneading out the knots of tension. "It's all right."

We were lying together on my bed, Santino having insisted that
I rest after being mesmerized. He seemed to think that the experience had taken
the stuffing out of me, but that wasn't the case at all. It wasn't like last
time, when he'd probed my deepest and most painful feelings. In fact, I didn't
think he'd entered my mind at all. I remembered talking, just talking, on and
on, his deep voice and my muted one. I didn't know what I had said, not exactly,
but I wasn't worried about it. Something told me that Santino wouldn't abuse
whatever information he might have gleaned. 

I guess it was that same something that was making me cling to
him, even now. When he'd  told me that I needed to lie down, I had refused to go to my room unless he came
along. I didn't want to be alone, not even for an instant.  What if the vampire who'd
stalked me barged  in through the window? After seeing the things that
Santino could do, I knew only too well that such was possible. Four stories up
was nothing to a vampire, and neither were all the locks and bolts in
existence. 

Thank God I didn't need to use the bathroom; I'd probably have
dragged Santino in there, too. A little humiliation was nothing compared to
keeping my baby safe from the predator prowling the island.

"Can we leave Rarotonga?" I pleaded.
"Please?"

Santino seemed to emerge from some deep state of
concentration. His hand on my back all at once went still, and I sensed that
he'd been touching me rather absently while he focused all his thoughts
elsewhere. "What? Oh, of course. How about we go to live somewhere cooler,
Nathalia? Would that suit you?"

I had to wonder where he'd gotten that idea from. Sure,
somewhere cooler sounded great; I'd often fantasized of a cool breeze across my
face instead of a blazing hot one. At that point in time, however, I couldn't
give a flip where I lived. I had much more important matters on my mind, namely
one baby-hungry vampire.

"I meant now, Santino, right now! Isn't there time before dawn to get to
somewhere safer?" I curled up against him even more, my hand resting on the
silk covering the sturdy muscles padding his chest. "How fast can you fly,
anyway? I can't bear it here, knowing that he's out there!"

"It's better to stand our ground," Santino told me
as he placed his hand atop mine. Cool, he was so very cool in the
air-conditioned room. I might have shivered from the contact, except that just
then, it seemed so comforting. No mortal man could protect me against this
threat. Only a vampire could, and in that instant, the chill to his skin
represented strength to me. Strength I desperately needed. "There's less chance he'll catch you unawares. Not that he will catch you at all,
Nathalia. I'm not about to let anything happen
to you."

I was sure he wasn't, but that didn't really help me. I was
still scared, and I couldn't help but huddle up against him until my chin was
tucked into the curve of his shoulder and one arm was wrapped around him to hang on for
dear life. His cool fingers reached under my hair to caress the tight cords at
my nape, now, and I arched my neck to give him freer access. Dear God, I
thought. I like this right now. I like his hand on me. I feel safer with his
hand on me, I feel safer being protected, being owned. 

My own thoughts made me shiver, not his cold touch. I could
only be glad that my shields were well in place.

"This is sweet," Santino remarked, his voice smooth
and pleased. "But I don't much care for what's
prompting it. Why can't you try to relax, ragazza?  I'll stay with you every instant until this is all sorted out."

"You aren't with me every instant," I pointed out,
my feet restlessly kicking at the tropical print bedspread as my nervousness
grew. It was true; as safe as I felt with Santino, it was a transient sort of
security. "Only at night. What if he comes tomorrow before you can
get here?"

Santino's fingers on my nape stopped feathering over my skin
and moved to encircle the back of my neck. His hand was large, and firm, and
strong, and I knew without a doubt that he could snap my neck just by tightening
his fingers. He wouldn't even break a sweat doing it. But the plain fact was
that the prospect didn't worry me. I knew I was at his mercy, but it didn't
matter. 

"I'll be with you before he even emerges from his
death-sleep," he promised me, his hand tightening after all, but just
enough to make me feel held. And it felt so very good to be held. I think
Santino must have guessed that, but he didn't speak of it; he was too busy
reassuring me. "You see, Nathalia, older vampires wake earlier than young
ones. Usually, much earlier. You didn't hear him until it was full night, isn't
that right?"

Now that startled me. "True, but maybe he was out
and about much before that."

"No, he wasn't," Santino stated with perfect
confidence. Arching his upper body for a moment, he dropped a soft kiss on my
mouth, his cool lips moving slowly across mine, his tongue teasing them open.
For one horrible moment, I wanted more of the contact. I wanted it, but I didn't
want to want it, if that makes any sense.

To dispel the sensation, I jerked my face away from his. He
could have held me in place, I knew; his hand at my neck seemed poised to do
just that. But he let me sidle away. 

"How can you possibly be sure he's young and therefore
rises late?" I demanded to know.

"His vernacular," Santino explained, moving back yet
further to give me the space I obviously needed. "In his
thoughts. It sounded like that of someone born and bred in the recent
past. He thinks in slang, Nathalia. Modern slang."

I frowned. "So that narrows things down, doesn't it? Who
could it be?"

Santino shook his head, then flipped onto his back and crossed
his hands behind his neck as he relaxed against a plump pillow. His eyes
squinted slightly, but why wouldn't they, when I had turned on every light in
the room, even flipping the dimmer switch on the overhead fixture to maximum
intensity. It was silly, I knew it was silly. Electric light wasn't like
sunlight. It didn't drive vampires away. Still, I felt better not being in the
dark. Santino, on the other hand, had always seemed to prefer a dimmer ambiance,
although he tolerated bright lights perfectly well. 

"I've got no idea what young ones Lestat might have met up with,"
he finally said, his eyes so narrowed now that they were just slits of black. It
was a wonder he didn't just use his mental powers to rotate the dimmer switch to
a setting more comfortable for him. "He's too
unpredictable. Most likely, I don't even know this one. You've got to understand
that it hasn't been my habit to socialize much."

"Why is that?" I suddenly thought to ask. He gave me
a rather startled glance, but I supposed that was to be expected. I hadn't
exactly been bursting with curiosity about him. That had probably been rather
short-sighted of me. Wasn't knowledge power? 

"Well," he ruminated for a bit before going on,
"it stems from the way I came into this life and what happened shortly afterwards, I
think. I wasn't made to be a companion or an heir, it was a violent and
unadorned change done for the sole purpose of acquiring a slave. And I was one,
Nathalia, for quite a while. I didn't have a chance against the rogue who brought me over. That was
bad enough, but then we were both caught by a coven. It was a matter of course back then for vampires to believe they served Satan--"

"That's enough," I gasped. I really didn't want to
think about hell. I knew I was going there, you see, but my certainty
didn't stem from any of Lestat's idiotic lies. I knew well enough by then that
Santino wasn't actually a demon. He was some sort of alternate life form,
semi-human, for he certainly had human attributes like emotion and personality.
No, the reason I knew I was going to hell was because I was disconnected from
God. He'd abandoned me. Or maybe I had abandoned Him, since I was the one who
quit praying. Either way, I sure wasn't in his good graces, not anymore. Maybe I
never had been, I didn't pretend to know, not anymore.

Santino stayed on his back, but reached over to lightly pat my
shoulders through the thin cotton of my dress. I don't know if he sensed what I was
feeling, my sensation of being utterly damned already, but he did say, "Please
don't fret, mia bella."

"How can I not?" I had to ask. "Why would Lestat send
someone all this way just to eat me?"

"He's psychotic," Santino answered. Gee, that sure made me feel
better! But then he went on to disclose, "In any case, I don't believe Lestat
did that. It's not his style to have others do his dirty work
-- he enjoys doing it himself way too much. Besides, Lestat rather likes you.
He's got no reason at all to want you dead." 

"I got a different impression when he was begging me to end my own sorry
life," I muttered. 

"Oh, that was all for show and you know it," Santino reminded me.
"Lestat never had any intention of letting you die."

I must have started shivering, for Santino cradled me tighter and promised,
"Listen, Nathalia, because I mean this with all my heart. I don't care who
this young one is, if so much as lays a finger on you, I'll carve him up and send him back to Lestat in
bite-sized pieces. You have nothing to fear. Niente. Trust me, my
dearest. I will settle this matter to your satisfaction."

He sounded serious, but I couldn't see how he could
be. "If you stay with me every moment, how on earth can you settle
anything?"

"I've been calling for him, that's how," Santino
told me.

"Calling for him?" Horrified, I sat up and accused him with a blue glare.
"Calling for him! What's wrong with you?"

Santino sat up, too, and looked me over, his gaze raking me up
and down, up and down. And he sighed, although not as if in despair. More
like... appreciation, I guess. That impression was bolstered when he said,
"If I say you're breathtakingly beautiful when you're angry, you'll just
get madder, right?"

Furious, I lifted my chin in the air. "It's just charming
to know that my agony tonight amuses you!"

"It doesn't amuse me," he retorted. "Nothing
about this strikes me as particularly funny, Nathalia."

"Lighten up?" It was all I could do not to bonk him
over the head with a pillow. With my luck, though, he'd just think it endearing.
"How on earth do you expect me to get jolly when you're sitting right there
in front of me, calling for some murderous bloodsucking vampire who wants
to eat me, eh?"

"How else did you expect me to get to the bottom of
all this?" he questioned, his tone so utterly reasonable that I could have
screamed. Actually, I think I did, but Santino ignored it and clarified, "I
can't leave you to search him out, and I'm certainly not going to flee Rarotonga
without finding out who we're up against. There's nothing left to do but summon
him and see what he has to say."

I felt sick. Really, truly, sick. Like my stomach was just
stuffed to bursting with bitter, acidic bile. "Santino, this vampire
wants to find out firsthand what draining a pregnant woman would be
like!"

"Well, he won't be finding out from you. Guaranteed. So
stop worrying about it, Nathalia."

I tried, I really did. In a way it was sort of pointless to be
so afraid. It wasn't as if I could do much to protect myself, was it? Actually,
I was doing the only thing I could do, which was to rely on Santino. I
didn't have any doubt that he would safeguard me to the very best of his
ability. I didn't even doubt that his abilities were stellar in that regard. But
there were vampires out there who could make mincemeat of him! Lestat,
for one. Ye gods, what if it was Lestat on this island?

"Look," I gasped, "maybe he's not so
young. Think about it! You don't talk like you did
in the 1300's, do you?"

"I should hope not," Santino remarked. "But thoughts
are different, they're instinctive. Believe me, Nathalia, I don't sound entirely like a modern
creation when I think. This one does, and it can only mean that he is
one."

I frowned, then. "What I don't understand is why I was
hearing him, at all. I mean, thank God I was, but Lestat didn't teach me to pick
up thoughts flitting around me."

"Lestat didn't have to teach you," Santino said,
moving us until we lay facing each other, my head now pillowed on his arm. I let
him move me. The truth was, I felt better being close to him. Right then, I
mean. "The talent's there inside you. He didn't
really give you shields, he just showed you how to channel your own
innate power. And you have more of that power than you realize, my beauty.
You've even read my mind a time or two."

Stunned, I was so stunned that I almost forgot about the other
vampire whose presence had so haunted me. "I read your mind? How? When? Why
didn't you tell me I'd done that?"

Santino sighed, his long fingers reaching out to toy with my
hair. "You were rather upset at the time, and right afterwards you started having
trouble with your shields. It just seemed better not to tempt you to strain your
powers any further. You know, Nathalia, your capacity for this kind of thing is very impressive, but
every now and then it really concerns me. Your mind is only mortal; I don't
want you to stress yourself unduly."

"Lestat told me more than once not to use my shields every second," I
remembered.

"Good advice," Santino agreed. "And it goes double for reading
thoughts. If you start trying to do it all the time, you're
almost certain to get results you don't like. Mind strain is no joking matter. I
don't want to watch you go off the deep end."

"Don't say that to me again," Santino commanded, his
voice all at once rough and forceful. "Ever. Do you understand, Nathalia?
That is not a conversation we are going to have. Period, end of
subject."

"Quite the dictator, aren't you?" I sneered.
Suddenly being close to him lost all appeal.

"Yes," he admitted, and he didn't sound one bit
remorseful about it. I had to rein in a strong impulse to call him a bunch of
other names. Male chauvinist pig headed the list, followed closely by impotent
prick. I didn't want to go there, though. Not really. It might just tempt
him to show me what he could do to me, sex-wise. 

I forced my thoughts back into useful channels, and pointed
out, "You've been calling him for a while, hasn't he answered?"

"No, I get the feeling he's shielding himself pretty
well."

"Break his shields," I put forward, impatience
ringing in my voice.

Santino didn't answer me. At all, I mean, and that was so
strange that it caught my attention. "Well?" I prompted. "Are you
doing it? Break down his shields, and blast his mind while you're at it! Maybe
then he'll leave me alone!"

It took a long moment before Santino answered. I got the feeling he
was weighing what he should and shouldn't say, and that made me so curious that
I did try to read his mind, forthwith. Not that it did me any good. I
heard but nada from him. "Well?" I demanded again.

"Never mind?" I erupted. "Never mind?
I damned well do mind, Santino! I want an answer! Why don't you break his
shields? Is he old and powerful, is that it? Are you too chickenshit to admit
you're outgunned?"

"No, you aren't," he announced, his voice once more that cold,
authoritative one I hated. "You're going to obey me, Nathalia. Shut up about
his shields. You don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm not going to explain, you know all you need to know, and that's
final. Not another word, or did you not mean it when you swore you'd do as I
told you?"

That brought me up short, it really did. Damn his black soul, I did have
to do as I was told. I knew the alternative, you see. Santino had made it
perfectly clear back on the atoll. I either towed the line and behaved like a
nice little pet, or he would haul me off to some godforsaken place just as
isolated as his island. For all I knew we'd go right back there. He had, after
all, once bragged to me about how fast he could get the house rebuilt. 

"I know," he said, his voice somber. "But it doesn't change a
thing between us."

I opened my mouth to retort, but I didn't really know what I was going to
say. Something scathing about his so-called love, I suppose. Although, at some
level I actually did think he believed he loved me. He just didn't know how to
love very well. Love was ownership to him, and it didn't really matter what I
thought of that, or of him.

In any case, I never did get a chance to say a word. "Shhh," Santino suddenly bid. "I need to
concentrate. He's answering."

I fell silent at once and stared as Santino's eyes took on an
otherworldly light that strangely made them all the more black, not less. I
would guess it only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed like hours passed while
I waited on tenterhooks.

Then Santino was laughing. Not as though anything were funny,
but in pure relief. "What?" I pressed, still angry, but needing to
know.

"Oh, there's not much to worry about," he assured me.
"It's just Daniel."

"Don't call him that, he doesn't like it," Santino
admonished. He seemed to have forgotten that we'd been fighting. Of course, he
probably didn't even know that we had been. He'd just been laying down the law. "Okay,
Daniel says he'll be over here in a couple of minutes. He's pretty vague, but it
seems like he wants to give you a message from
Lestat."

I shoved off the bed and retreated until my back collided with
the wall. "Fine, he can tell you whatever it is. I'm not
leaving this room, do you understand?"

Santino stared at me, bemused, and stood up himself. He spent a moment trying
to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt, then gave up. I had mangled it too badly,
earlier, when I'd clutched at him. "You don't really think Lestat would
send someone here to hurt you, do you?"

"How would I know what to think? You vampires operate by a different set
of rules, that's all I know. After all, once upon a time I knew I'd never
be tossed into a dungeon and tortured for no other reason than some nightwalker
really liked black hair!"

"That's not why I did those things," Santino retorted. "If you
want to know ---"

"I don't," I interrupted him. Santino had suffered in his life, I
knew that. For all I knew, he might have suffered more than I had. But I didn't
want to sympathize with that; it didn't justify what he'd inflicted upon me. Not
in any way, shape, or form. 

"Fine," he answered, his voice perfectly level, but I could tell
that my attitude irked him. Well, that was just too bad for him. He was
the one who'd said we should look forward instead of back. Not that I had too
much to look forward to. 

"You get it," I ordered Santino, and I didn't much care how he took
to being bossed around. "I'm staying right here, and if he takes so much as
one measly step towards this bedroom, I want you to drain him absolutely dry,
have you got that?"

"You're a tad bloodthirsty for a mortal," Santino told me.
"And you're being ridiculous, Nathalia. He just has a message for you from
Lestat. Don't you want to hear it?"

"No," I scathed. "I don't! The last thing that raving
lunatic told me was that he'd be only too delighted to chop my parents up with a
hunting knife. Besides, this garbage about a message is the stupidest thing I've
heard all year. You really think Lestat can't talk directly into my mind if he
has something to say? Shields or no?"

"Great, you hear him out," I retorted. "I'm not setting
foot in the same room with a vampire that was just today fantasizing about how
delicious my little baby's blood would be!" When Santino looked like he
might object to my attitude, my voice got hard, as hard as his had been a few
moments earlier. "Don't, don't say it, don't you start in with that
obedience crap. I told you I wasn't going to comply with any dictates
that endangered this baby. Don't you dare give me one, Santino!" 

"All right, all right," he conceded, which surprised me,
considering. "I'll talk to Daniel alone."

I suppose I couldn't really blame Nathalia for her attitude. It wasn't as if
she could see Daniel the way I did, as relatively harmless. Friendly, even. As
far as she was concerned, the simple fact that Daniel was a vampire made him a
potent menace. And worse than that, he had been thinking some pretty dire
things about her and her baby. So maybe it was best that she lagged behind, all
things considered.

I actually had to admire her guts in standing up to me although her snide
little I hate you hadn't made my day.

But I knew what she didn't, that there was no possible way Lestat had sent
Daniel out here to do her harm. It just didn't add up. Of course, I didn't know
why Lestat wouldn't deliver his own messages; Nathalia was right, he
could wing them across the globe and straight into our brains. 

I strode straight to the door and opened it. "Daniel. Thank you for
coming right over."

Lanky and relaxed as ever, he grinned and shrugged, then strode straight in
and helped himself to a place on the sofa. Two places, actually. Daniel tended
to flop rather than sit. For all that, though, he looked a little bit
nervous. He was trying to hide it, but it was there. My suspicions immediately
went on alert. Something wasn't quite right.

"So, what's new, Santino?" he greeted me, his tone casual, almost too
casual. "Haven't seen you since we all got together after Akasha's
little to-do."

Small talk had never been my forte, to say the least, so I sat down too,
right across from him, and leaned forward to pierce him with a serious glare. He
took notice of it, too; he wasn't stupid. He knew I could stomp him like a bug.
He probably even knew that I was tempted. I certainly didn't appreciate finding
Nathalia in hysterics, courtesy of his interest in her blood.

"What were you playing at today, scaring Nathalia like that?" I
challenged, my voice so stern that Daniel sat up straight for a change. He even
tugged at his tee shirt and fiddled with his baggy jeans. Tense, he was really
tense. On edge, in fact. There was more to this than met the eye. 

"Jeez Louise, Santino! I was just looking for her like Lestat wanted,
and I was glad to finally spot her! I've been here a while, you see. Lestat
thought you were off on some godforsaken little atoll, but I sure didn't catch
hide nor hair of you out there--"

"We'll get to Lestat later," I directed. "Right now I'm more
interested in you. Nathalia may still be mortal, but she's off limits, do you
understand that? You're not to so much as think of taking her blood, not
even a drop, Daniel! If I catch you considering it, I'll drink down every last
drop of yours and bury you to starve where no one will ever, ever hear
your screams for help! That's if I don't just stay up long enough to make sure
you burn to a cinder. You do need to get away from the dawn long before
me, so don't think I can't do it!"

"Well you sure got up on the wrong side of the coffin this
evening," Daniel remarked.

I guess he hadn't thought I was serious, but I decided it was time for him to
think again. Without so much as a warning, I flew at him, grabbed him by the
neck and bit him hard on the jugular. I didn't drink, though; I didn't have any
interest in Daniel, except to make him understand once and for all that Nathalia
was none of his business.

"Okay, okay, okay!" he yelped, thrashing. He should have just held
still; he couldn't escape my grip. I shook him hard for good measure, and then
flung him back down to the sofa.

Daniel was staring at me with amazement. I don't think he had believed I
could get emotional. Most of my acquaintances would probably react the same way.
But there was something besides shock in his violet gaze, something that
startled me. Bewilderment?

"Damn right I'm confused," he echoed, which made me raise my
shields a bit higher. I was actually surprised he'd read me; he was stronger
than I remembered from the Night Island. Mentally, at least.

"I don't know what's got you so steamed," Daniel continued. His
voice sounded sort of hurt, come to think of it. "It's not like I touched
the girl, for cryin' out loud. Your girl, all right? Lestat told me that
she belongs to you! I didn't even go within a hundred feet of her. Honest, I was
just looking. And jeez, is she a looker! You sure do have good taste--"

"Shut up," I told him, stepping one foot closer to the couch. He
shrunk back. Not much, just enough for me to know he'd heard me, loud and clear.

"Right, I will" Daniel agreed, shaking his mop of dark blonde hair.
"My point was, I didn't do a thing to make you mad. I just found her, like
Lestat said."

"You scared her to death, that's what you did," I informed him.
"And I don't appreciate it! It's bad for the baby, you idiot!"

Daniel threw up his hands in eloquent frustration. "How the hell did I
do any such thing? That's total bullcrap, Santino!"

"You think so? Well, why do you think she started running for her
life?"

"Is that what she was doing? Shit, I just thought she had places to go,
people to see."

I gave him a long, hard, glare which said pull the other one, Daniel, and
it made him surprisingly defensive. Obnoxious, too. Maybe he figured he might as
well be, since I looked like I'd pummel him again any second, anyway.

"Lookit, if you want the whole freakin' truth, I actually thought she
took off like that because it was getting so dark out, and she figured she had
to high-tail it back to you. I mean, come on! Didn't you used to beat her
up for every little thing she did wrong? Christ, the way Lestat tells it, she
didn't have to do shit, you just wailed on her for no reason at all!"

"Okay, maybe you didn't know you scared her, but you did, Daniel! She
picked up what you were thinking!"

Daniel's ash-gold eyebrows rose to hide behind his lanky, tousled bangs, and
he gazed at me with positive bafflement glowing from his purple irises.
"What? Jeez, it's not like I was planning an attack or something, Santino.
Why would I be? Lestat's convinced she's gonna be part of the coven someday!
Besides, what would make me want to take you on? There's plenty of blood in the
world besides hers!"

"Well," I drawled, "I guess she thought hers was
special, Daniel! After all, it didn't take long for you to start wondering what
it would be like to drink from a woman carrying a child. What was it you wanted
to know? Oh yes, if you would get to hear the baby's little infant thoughts
while you did it?"

"Shit!" he suddenly yelled, looking startled, distressed, and
remorseful all at once. "She heard that? Dang, I thought Lestat was off his
rocker, I really did! But I guess he was right. She really can read minds, even
vampires'? What the hell is she going to be like later if she can manage stunts
like that right now?"

"Oh Lestat knew about that, did he?" I pleasantly remarked. Daniel
got the idea, too, because he sailed right onto his next point.

"Honest, though, that wasn't what I meant at all! I was just curious,
you know. It took me by surprise to see her rounding out like that-- Say, how
did that happen? I mean, we can't father children, can we? I mean, how
could we when we can't even--"

"Do you really need me to explain the basics of human
reproduction?" I mocked.

"None of your business, Daniel! Get your brain back on the subject! What
did you mean think you saw that Nathalia was carrying a child?"

"Oh, yeah," Daniel sighed. "I was just thinking, you know: Hey,
she's pregnant, that's sort of weird, I wonder if it would make the blood taste
different. Of course I wondered, but it didn't mean I was going to lay a
fang on her! What do you take me for? Christ! I thought I'd ask Armand or
somebody what it was like, cause sure as hell don't want a baby on my
conscience. That teenager Armand fed me was bad enough! Sometimes I swear she
still haunts me!"

Daniel was sort of hopping around on the couch as he got all that out.
Fidgety, really fidgety. I guess I'd done too good a job of intimidating
him. 

"Okay, I believe you. You weren't going to hurt Nathalia, and you're not
out to hurt her now. So, good. Why don't you just tell me what brought you out
here in the first place?"

For some reason, that made him look even more uncomfortable than he
had before. I got the distinct feeling that the real cause of his worry was my
obvious willingness to vent my temper. Whatever he had to say, he was worried it
would set me off again.

"Um... well, it's like this, Santino. Lestat wanted me to talk to
Nathalia."

Again, Daniel hedged. "Well.... he sorta said it was between me and her,
and I should talk to her alone."

"Between you and her?" I echoed. "Don't you mean
between him and her?"

"No, I said it right," Daniel defended himself. "Look, I told
Lestat it was nuts doing things this way. Said I should come to you first, since
she's your little pet mortal. He said no, no way, Nathalia's got a mind of her
own, you find her, Daniel, and talk to her."

"Well, you can't talk to her," I explained. Patiently, or so I
thought. "She thinks you're going to attack her. I told her you weren't too
likely to do a thing like that, actually, but she doesn't believe me, not after
she heard your little baby fantasy earlier."

"For Christ's sake, it wasn't a fantasy," Daniel complained.
"I didn't actually want to do it, I just wondered what it would be
like!"

"Either way, she does have a mind of her own, and she's not setting foot
in the same room with you. I think those were her words."

"And you let her talk to you like that?" he questioned,
clearly confused. "I thought you sorta had her, you know, more
intimidated?"

"Intimidated's overrated," I shot back. I wasn't disposed to
discuss my personal life with Daniel, of all people. "Anyway, you scared
her and now you'll have to live with the results. Which are, forget about
talking to her."

"Crap and double crap!" Daniel exclaimed. "Go tell her she's
wrong, Santino, tell her I didn't mean a thing! Cause I really do have to talk
to her. Lestat'll pitch a shit-fit if I go back empty-handed. Say, where the
hell is she, anyway?" He glanced around, clearly listening for her, then
raised his hands to his ears in a gesture of mock annoyance. "Fuck! Doesn't
she know how to damp those shields down? How do you not go stone-cold deaf
around her?"

"I don't often try to listen in," I told him, hoping Nathalia
hadn't heard that last little bit. The last thing I wanted was for her to
realize that unlike her, vampires didn't announce their presence with their
shields. "Look, it's a standoff. You want to see her but she doesn't want
to see you. Guess whose inclinations I'm going to respect more?"

"All right, all right," Daniel conceded, grumpy. "I'll tell
you what I can. Hang on a minute."

With that, he was exiting the suite, moving so preternaturally fast that to
mortal eyes he would simply have vanished. I didn't know where he went, but in
less than a minute he was back, and he was carrying something. A large box,
well-wrapped and taped all around, but it had no markings of any kind.

"Had to stash it at the front desk," Daniel explained.
"Christ, I hope I'm doing the right thing. Ok, here's the deal. Lestat sent
this for Nathalia, but he wasn't so sure she would want it. Told me her temper's
kinda likely to blow at the least little thing, and when it does, she goes off
like a volcano. And he doesn't want this damaged if she doesn't appreciate it.
Besides, he said the last time he saw Nathalia he sorta punched her in the face,
and she might still be ticked off about his little promise to eat her
parents--"

"Yeah," Daniel said, as though just picking up his train of
thought. "Ok, anyway, he said, don't give it to Nathalia until you tell
her about it and you're sure she won't just crack you over the head with it,
Daniel. So I left it at the desk and came up to see what she thinks. But you
won't let me see her, so I'll just have to trust you with it."

"But what is it?" I asked, hefting the package up and shaking it a
little. For all it was a large box, the weight within didn't seem terribly
significant.

Daniel blushed, just a little. "Um, you have to promise you won't tease
Lestat or anything like that. He'll have my hide. You weren't supposed to know.
Not unless Nathalia wanted to tell you, and Lestat sort of thought she might not
do that. He thought she might just use this during the day to work out some of
her kinks, you know."

"It's an exercise machine?" I asked, laughing already. Lestat was
weird. Really weird.

"Nah," Daniel denied. Then he dropped his voice to a whisper.
"It's his guitar, one of the onew he used with the band, and he's sorta
attached to it, so swear you won't let her smash it to smithereens, ok?"

Dumbfounded didn't even come close to my reaction to that. "Lestat sent
Nathalia an electric guitar?"

"It's acoustic," Daniel corrected me. "He said Nathalia called
rock music loud and ugly." He took one final, doubtful look at the package.
"And there's a hell of a lot more than just a guitar at stake here, but I really
have to see Nathalia for the rest of it. See her alone, I mean. So you show
her this, and talk to her some, and let me know, ok?" 

He glanced out at the night sky. It wasn't even lightening yet, but Daniel
knew his own limits, knew to be cautious. "I gotta go."

"Nah, thanks, but I got a nice place. Real nice. Ok, I'll hang here a
while, the island's sorta neat. Like nowhere I've been before. I'll be around if
you call. Jeez, think about it, would you? Lestat's going to pissed as hell if I
go back there without talking to Nathalia."

"Since when do you volunteer to be Lestat's little errand boy?" I
had to challenge.

"Well, if you must know," Daniel grumbled. "Armand and
I had a fight. Again. Actually we didn't really have a fight, he just stopped
talking to me. Again. I was over crying on Louis' shoulder and Lestat said I
needed a project. Something to distract me, something fun. A challenge, he said.
And it sounded pretty good, if you ask me. Better than moping over Armand,
anyway. So I took him up on it. Then he gave me the guitar and read me
the riot act about making sure she wouldn't just toss it off the balcony, or
something. The gift was just an afterthought, if you ask me. I'm really here for
something else completely."

"A challenge?" I had to ask. "Really, Daniel, I think you
should tell me what is going on. Nathalia's not some little toy for Lestat to
play with. Come on, out with it. Give!"

I'd had just about enough of Lestat's nonsense, so I focused all my energies
in on Daniel's shields. I couldn't believe they'd be too hard to break, all
things considered. Sure, he might be Armand's fledgling, and Armand was pretty
damned strong, but what did that mean to me? I could whip Armand, too, if it
came to that.

"Hold up!" Daniel screeched, thrusting out a hand to ward me off.
"Lestat said to say you'd better not! Maybe I can't get even with you, but
he sure as hell can!"

"Lestat's really a piece of work, isn't he?" I asked, and Daniel
let loose a weak, rather hopeful laugh.

"I won't," I agreed. It wasn't Daniel's fault Lestat was such an
unmitigated jerk. Why the hell did he have to mess around with Nathalia, again?
The last time he'd done it, she'd slit her own wrist! 

No, my conscience reminded me, the *last* time he interfered, he
did the one thing that has helped her keep her sanity. Those shields are a good
thing, even if you don't want her to learn how to hide them.

"Why don't you tell me just what Lestat was threatening me with," I
requested.

Daniel laughed again, but this time it was more heartfelt. "Oh, you know
Lestat. Specifics aren't really his strong point. He just said he'd make you rue
the day, stuff like that."

"I understand," I murmured. "Well, thank you then, Daniel.
I'll give this to Nathalia, and If she's willing to see you, I'll let you know.
Don't stay so shielded all the time, all right? I thought you'd never
answer."

Daniel flushed. "Hmm, I was sort of trying to stay out of sight until I
could speak to Nathalia alone. I didn't know she'd sensed me, you see. I just
figured it would be easier to do what Lestat wanted if you didn't even know I
was on the island. Oh, well, best laid plans, and all that."

Shaking my head in consternation, I went to see if Nathalia had caught
Daniel's suggestion that she really ought to tamp those shields down.

Chapter 25: Fond Regards

Mmmm, I did love bubbles. I actually sighed out loud with
pleasure as I sank into a hot tub just bursting with them. I hadn't had a bubble
bath since Santino had first captured me. I suppose I could have had one on the
atoll, actually; he had regularly compiled lists of things to be delivered and
never failed to ask if there was anything I wanted. He'd have gotten me some
bubble bath if I'd asked, I'm sure. I could have had nail polish, too, and some
barrettes for my unruly hair, and
probably whatever else struck my fancy.

But I hadn't wanted to ask him for things. It just seemed so wrong.
After all, he wasn't my friend or my lover. No matter how nice he chose to be,
no matter how much he wanted to pretend we had some sort of relationship, he was still
just my captor. I didn't want him to be anything else. I didn't want those lines
blurred. 

Now, they were starting to blur whether I liked it or
not. 

I'd gone to Santino for help, I'd really leaned on him for
once, and I couldn't pretend anymore that I was just his prisoner. It was
too obvious that I actually did trust him, in certain respects, at least. I
wasn't so sure that was a good development, I really wasn't. I mean, it was much
easier to tell myself I was held hostage than to face the fact that there were
other facets to this relationship. Positive facets, even. I had told Santino
that I hated him, and I did... but for all that,  I didn't hate him quite the
same way that I had back in Norway. 

Well, their conversation had been illuminating, to say the
least. The first thing that surprised me was the threats Santino had issued and
the sounds of a struggle, which told me he would back up those threats. It was a
foreign concept, really, the idea of Santino coming to my defense, of him
attacking one of his fellow vampires, and for me. Of course I had
demanded he do just that, but until I heard it happening with my own two ears I
didn't have the greatest faith that he actually would. Especially considering
that Santino had lectured me on how harmless Daniel was and how my fear was just
ridiculous.

I'd been all set --determined, actually-- to despise Daniel,
but after I'd listened to him for a while, I found I just couldn't. His voice
had an earnestness and an appeal that was impossible to miss, and when he
started explaining that he hadn't meant to threaten me, I realized I believed
him. He had just seemed so absolutely horrified at the prospect of draining a baby. A fetus, even. That clearly hadn't been his intent, even
if I didn't much appreciate his tendency to wonder over it. 

Then again, I wondered all the time about things I wouldn't
do, things I knew were wrong. Who didn't? It was part of being human. And you
know, that was what struck me most about Daniel. That he still sounded human.
Maybe it had to do with how young he was, in vampire terms. He was just a
baby compared to Santino. Then again, Louis had always struck me as rather
human, too. So probably it had nothing to do with age. More with sensitivity.

Now, you have to understand, it wasn't like I was eager to
make his acquaintance, or anything. I wasn't stupid. He was a vampire,
and for all he seemed to regret killing that teenaged girl, he'd done it, hadn't
he? He might be harmless as far as other vampires were
concerned, but he was something else entirely to a mortal. Definitely, he was a killer. 

All the same, though, I didn't really think he'd kill me.
In fact, Daniel posed much less a threat than did Santino. After all,
Santino had definite plans to make love to me, which to him meant a nice, strong
chomp. And after the baby was weaned, Santino would start drinking my blood
again, no doubt on a regular basis.

Daniel, on the other hand, wouldn't so much as touch me; I was
certain of that. In
the first place, he didn't seem to want to, and even if he had, he wasn't about
to give Santino a reason to stomp on him. 

After their little altercation, though, and Daniel's
explanation of the difference between idle curiosity and intent, it got a lot harder
to hear anything at all, out there. Daniel was speaking in a hushed voice, and
Santino more or less followed suit. It seemed like Lestat had sent me not really
a message, but a package.

Ugh. I had to wonder what was in it. My parents, nicely
filleted? I knew that was silly, of course. Lestat's whole point had been that
he'd kill them after I offed myself, and I hadn't even tried suicide
again, so I knew they were safe enough. 

Anyway, then Daniel started going on about there being a
message too, but that he had to talk to me, not Santino. Lestat's orders.
Somehow it didn't surprise me that Lestat would boss him around, he seemed to
boss everybody around. Even Santino, when it came right down to it.

Fuck! Doesn't she know how to damp those shields down? How
do you not go stone-cold deaf around her?

It took a while for the words to make sense to me, and then I
gasped. So my shields were apparently so loud they had startled Daniel? That could only mean that he was used to mind-barriers that didn't cause
so much noise. None at all, perhaps.

Oh, I was just going to kill that Lestat! (Like I could,
right!) As far as I was concerned, he was just a snake, an absolute snake!
And now I understood why Santino had gone all dictatorial earlier in the
evening when I'd demanded to know why he didn't just break through Daniel's
shields. He couldn't, because he couldn't find them to break; Daniel
knew how to hide his shields from prying vampires. 

They all knew it, I saw that now. I was the only one
who didn't, and it made me a sitting duck for Santino!

There's more to using shields than just slapping them in
place, Lestat had told me. If I hadn't been so upset at the prospect of
being forcibly returned to Santino, I might have wondered over the comment.

Well, now I knew how I really could escape this vampire
who owned me. If I could learn to shield in a way that didn't provide him with a
homing beacon, I could finally hide. The question was, how was I going to learn
that? It's not the sort of thing they put in books, is it now?

And Santino sure as hell wasn't going to teach me a thing. He
hadn't even wanted me to know that shields could be concealed. And
you know, in my books that made him just as big a snake as Lestat was.

No, there was someone else right here on Rarotonga. Someone
who wanted to talk to me alone. And who knew, Santino might even allow it. A
little heart-to-heart with Daniel... well, I didn't have the faintest idea what
Lestat thought we had to talk over, but like the blonde demon had said, I had a
mind of my own.

Daniel Molloy was an absolute godsend, or could be, if I
played my cards just right.

The first thing I had to do was make damned good and sure that
Santino thought I still didn't have a clue.

Well, blonde I'm not, but I can play dumb when I need to. No
problem.

Nathalia wasn't in the bedroom, which struck me as odd. I'd
have thought she would be practically listening at the keyhole. Instead, I heard
sounds which could only mean she'd taken it into her head to have a bath.

I made sure my mind was well shielded, and then I went in to
see her. I suppose I should have knocked, really, but it didn't occur to me
until I entered and saw her somewhat accusing stare. And you know, after all the
stress of this particular evening, I wasn't really in the mood for an
argument. 

"Sorry," I only said, and Nathalia must have decided
to let it go, for she laughed.

"Oh, well, there's not much to see. I'm pretty well
coated with bubbles."

I'll say she was. "What did you do, pour in the whole
bottle?"

She glanced up at me, a little shamefaced. "No. Half,
actually."

"I guess I should have gotten you some bubble bath before
now, then," I remarked. 

"I guess I should have asked," she sighed. "I
don't really like depending on you for things but I have a feeling I'll get over
it."

Nathalia wasn't conciliatory very often, and I had to wonder
what had put her in this mood. For that matter, I was still in the dark why she
would leave off listening to Daniel for something as inconsequential as a bath.
"Are you all right, now?" I asked. "I mean, did you hear what
Daniel had to say, do you feel better about the baby and everything?"

She nodded, her hands swirling in the water beneath those
bubbles. Really, there wasn't anything visible except her head and an occasional
flash of knee as she shifted positions. 

"Mmmm-hmmm," she murmured, sounding sleepy, really.
That wasn't too surprising. It was late, and she'd had a rough night besides.
"I guess I misunderstood, earlier. I don't think he's got it in for
me." Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back on the edge of the tub and
relaxed. "He seemed really shocked that I'd drawn such a dire conclusion.
After that, I don't know. It was like the strain that had been holding me up all
night just vanished, and all I could do was collapse. But I also felt sort of on
edge, if that makes sense. I thought a hot bath might help me sleep, and for the
baby's sake, I really do need to get some quality rest. Today has been just
awful."

"Okay," I answered, still puzzled. "You didn't
stick around to hear the rest of what Daniel had to say, though?" I hoped
not, anyway.

I heard Nathalia clear her throat slightly, as though weariness
was clogging it. "Oh, I should have, probably. But then again, I didn't
really care about anything except that he didn't want to eat me. I guess I
figured that if Lestat had really sent a message, you could pass it on just as
easily as him."

Well, that took a load off my mind. I could only be relieved
that she hadn't heard much of my conversation with Daniel; I didn't want her to
get any brilliant ideas about those shields.

Of course, it also meant that it was up to me to pass on the
information Daniel had brought here. "Did you catch that Lestat sent you a
gift, Nathalia? A guitar?"

That had her azure eyes snapping open in true confusion. "Did you say guitar?" she echoed. "Why would
Lestat send me that?"

"Daniel said something about you using it to work out
your kinks? What do you think he meant?"

Nathalia stiffened slightly, then, and sat up straighter in
the tub. Frothy white bubbles clung to her pale skin, so she wasn't exactly
putting on a show, but it was a mighty enticing sight, all the same. I really
didn't think she knew that, though. Her mind was too busy clicking over,
wondering about the guitar.

"Oh, I get it," she finally murmured. "He used
to complain all the time about the pieces I would play on his piano, so I told him
that I preferred guitar, anyway." She idly toyed with the bubbles coating the
surface of the water, her slender fingers flicking them randomly to and fro. I
got the feeling that she was uncomfortable, and I actually expected her to fall
silent, but instead she opened up, just a little. "Lestat used to read my
mind all the time, you know. Worse even than you, Santino. Anyway, he must have sensed that
composing is a way for me to....
I don't know, vent, I suppose."

Rather startled, I could only ask, "Nathalia? You compose
music?"

"Yes, and Lestat showered me with no end of insults over
my work, but I listened to his CD once. Ye gods, he's the one with no taste.
I've never heard such absolute garbage in my life, and I should know. Music is the only thing I'm remotely good at."

Now that I couldn't agree with, but what concerned me
more was that I was certain she'd never once mentioned music in my presence. She
seemed to have an artistic flair, actually, so I had given her pastels, and
watercolors, and various other art supplies, but I hadn't thought to offer her
anything else. And she'd never asked, but I can't say as that surprised me.

"Have you missed it much, having something to compose
on?" I asked.

She relaxed again and nodded, her eyes closing. She was so
exhausted that her eyelashes lay against skin tinged blue-white with fatigue.
Since I'd more or less promised Daniel I'd protect that stupid guitar, I
couldn't drop the matter, not quite yet, even though Nathalia really looked too
done in to do much more talking. "Do you want the gift?" I asked.

She barely moved her lips as she replied. "What? Oh, yes,
certainly. Music's sort of a soothing balm to me, it'll be nice to have an
instrument to play. Who knows? Maybe I'll work up a song or two."

"Because Lestat was actually afraid that you might still
be mad at him, that you might wreck it," I explained, "and apparently
it's one of his favorites. Daniel said he used it on stage."

A weak laugh crawled up Nathalia's throat. "Oh, dear God,
he's truly bizarre. Why didn't he just buy me a guitar? I don't need one that
he's attached to."

"I guess he likes you," I offered. Really, I was
surprised, too. It wasn't like Lestat to be so thoughtful. Actually, it wasn't
like him to be thoughtful in the least. It made me wonder what he had in mind
for Daniel to discuss with Nathalia. I didn't want to talk to her about that,
though, not yet. She was just too exhausted.

And must say, it suited me just fine that she'd clearly not
heard a word of Daniel's demands to have a private conversation. If she had, I
had no doubt she'd be telling me in no uncertain terms what she thought of the
prospect. I knew Nathalia; she wasn't one to pull her punches. She might no longer believe that Daniel intended to attack
her, but that didn't mean she would jump for joy at the prospect of socializing
with yet another vampire. I should know.

She was almost asleep, her body sliding down in the slippery
tub until I grew truly concerned that she might submerge completely and drown.
Maybe it was a good thing I'd come in to talk with her. "Nathalia!" I
said, my voice a trifle sharp.

"All right, ragazza," I whispered, reaching
down into the water to scoop her up. Nathalia was so tired that she didn't even
flinch. I don't think she so much as realized I was carrying her naked, dripping
body across the large bathroom and wrapping her in a large, soft towel. Neither
did she say anything when I strode through to place her in the double bed.

After I had tucked her in, though, she rolled slightly towards
me and drowsily murmured, "Oh, thank you, Santino. Thank you so much. I'm
just so tired..." Her voice drifted off.

I dropped a soft kiss on her lips and left to seek my own
rest.

The next day, I found myself staring at the package Daniel had
left. For some strange reason, I didn't want to open it. I couldn't explain why
not, not really. I mean, I didn't have any doubt that it merely contained a
guitar. How threatening could a guitar be? 

After you eat, I told myself. Open it after you
eat. 

Ok, I was hungry. It was a couple of hours past noon, and I'd
just woken up. I decided I'd have a nice, relaxing lunch, and then I'd tackle
opening the package. I called room service and ordered a couple of sandwiches,
milk, and guava juice. Then I paced the room. I swear, that package was just staring
at me.

I was getting obsessed, and I didn't know why. Just because
Lestat had sent it? Maybe I sensed some undercurrent of threat emanating from
anything remotely connected to him?

Or maybe, my conscience finally kicked in, you're
afraid because you know that if you touch it, you'll want to compose again, and
when you do, you won't be able to push your tangled emotions to the side any
longer.

Yeah, that was it. That was most definitely it. Writing music
had always been cathartic for me. It helped me get my feelings sorted out.
Sometimes, it showed me that I'd been repressing or denying some of my most
potent emotions. Anything I wrote was sort of time-stamped, revealing in
startling detail exactly how I'd felt at a certain moment. It was no coincidence
that Lestat had called all the pieces I'd written in New Orleans funeral
dirges. I'd been depressed, half-wanting death even before he'd tempted me
with that knife.

So now, what would I learn about myself if I started
writing? I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Actually, I was sure I didn't want
to know. Tangled didn't even begin to describe my feelings, these days. I wanted
to hate Santino, but I didn't, not really. Not most of the time, anyway. Only
when he was at his most arrogant was I able to hate him. 

The rest of the time, I didn't know what to think, except that
he made me uneasy. He obviously did care about me, in his own way. It just
wasn't a way I could much appreciate. He thought in terms of ownership. I guess
it was normal for him to think that way, being as I was mortal and the vampires
thought of mortals as "things" there to serve their needs, namely the
blood-lust. Santino had even told me once that he could have drained me if he
had wanted, which meant my life was forfeit to him, given that he'd chosen to
let me keep it. 

Let me keep it. That sure said one hell of
a lot about his world view. 

My lunch came while I was still contemplating all this, and as
I signed the bill with the name the hotel had on record here, all my problems
seemed to coalesce into those two words: Nathalia Constantzine. The name
itself marked me as his property. And that's what I was to him. Property. He
cared about what I thought and felt only insofar as it didn't interfere with his
own wishes.

Yet in his selfish, domineering way, he did love me; I
understood that. 

And I had accepted that love, at least in part, in the moment
I relied on him for help and support, in the moment I had admitted to myself
that there was more between us than mere captivity and compulsion.

Eventually, of course, I did start unwrapping the package, if
for no other reason than that I didn't want to face a slew of questions from
Santino. Layer after layer of thick brown paper torn away, I finally got down to
the sturdy cardboard itself. It was securely taped shut, but I slashed it open
with my room key, and peeled the box open.

The contents weren't too surprising. Just a plain black guitar
case protecting the instrument within. I pulled it from the box, and just stared
at it for the longest moment. It had been so long since I'd played; really, I
couldn't help but think that Lestat was being astoundingly considerate to send
this all the way to Rarotonga for me. It wasn't his fault that music roused
emotions I preferred to keep buried. 

With a decisive lecture to myself to stop being ridiculous, I
snapped open the clasps fastening the case and flipped it open.

The first thing I noticed was not the beautifully crafted
wooden guitar that lay nestled within, but rather the folded sheet of yellow
vellum tucked beneath the taut strings. I knew who liked to write on vellum.
Sure enough, when I flicked the paper loose with one long nail, it was to see
Lestat's distinctive left-slanting handwriting greeting me.

Ma chère Nathalia,

A few nights ago, mon Louis mentioned missing the
beautiful, haunting music that graced our home while you were here. It got
me to thinking of how you might be faring in your new life. Are things going
well for you in the South Pacific?

I'm sure you know by now that I've sent Daniel out
there to talk with you. Or more accurately, I want you to talk with him.
He's of your modern times, so he has a perspective that Santino or I will
never quite capture. Your perspective, Nathalia. You'll understand what I
mean once the two of you get to talking.

Chérie, I suspect you think I don't care for you, but
I do. A guitar may seem small consolation for all you've been through, but I
remember what music means to you, what music does for you. Start writing
again, all right? And please, do talk to Daniel.

Fond regards,

LdL

l read the letter straight through three times, and I still
didn't know what to make of it, not really. Are things going well for you in
the South Pacific? Lestat sounded like a maiden aunt, or something! What was
stranger was that he could find out at any time just how things were going! All
he had to do was listen in. I couldn't believe my shields would pose an
impediment to a vampire with his vast powers.

Well, if I knew anything, it was that it was almost impossible
to know what Lestat de Lioncourt might be up to. There was no telling
what he'd sent Daniel out here to say. 

But that didn't matter so much, did it? Not now that I had an
agenda of my own. I'd discuss anything Daniel cared to, anything at all, just so
long as it gave me a chance to sound him out about his shields and how he
managed them. Subtly, of course. I had a sneaking suspicion that Daniel was too
smart to advise me about escaping from Santino; he didn't want to be on
Santino's hit list.

But if I could just get Daniel talking, all casual, all
friendly... who knows what he might let slip, especially with a little shrewd
prodding?

Of course, all that presumed that I got a chance to talk to
him alone. Santino could prevent it with just a word of command. So my first
task, obviously, was to convince Santino to let me chat with Daniel. A tall
order, considering that I'd refused just that the night before. Point blank, no
less. Still, I thought I could manage it. The trick, once again, was subtlety. I
couldn't let Santino see that I was itching to get close up and personal with
Daniel; after my earlier behavior, that would rouse his suspicions. I had to
lead into it gradually.

Make Santino think it was his idea, even. Make out like I was
just doing as I was told. Yes, Santino would like that.

Lestat's words came back to me, then. You're not as smart
as you seem to think, Nathalia.

I picked up the guitar and, for the first time in over a year,
started to play something upbeat. A jazz riff, actually, excitement dancing
through my fingertips as I contemplated the challenge before me, and the
potential rewards.

Maybe, just maybe, Nathalia Constantzine would soon be
nothing more than a bad memory.

Chapter 26: Truthful Deceit and
Deceptive Truth

No doubt about it, Nathalia most definitely preferred cold to heat. I suppose it was why she had survived as well as she had down in my
dungeon. And too, I could see that her preference was a good thing, since I tend
to be cool, to say the least.  Maybe that would make it that much easier
for her to touch me, when the time came.

On another level, though, the temperature in the suite irritated me because
it reflected how obstinate she had been, all along. I could see now that life on the atoll must have been largely unbearable for her. And she, of course, had never thought to mention that the heat bothered her.

To my surprise, she emerged from the other bedroom, the one that was presumably mine, although I of course never slept in there. It wasn't that I was opposed to hotels. I actually preferred them to sleeping in crypts and cemeteries, or to burying myself in the raw earth. There
are ways --quite simple ways, really-- to secure such rooms from sunlight and prying
hotel staff.

That had her gaze snapping to mine again. I couldn't help but notice that her eyes were misted. "I guess I actually do trust you in some things. Like the situation with Daniel. And, about the
baby -- you’ve been very good to not drink from me these past few months. I know you have wanted to."

Her expression went solemn, her mouth straightening into a thin line. Yet the grimace wasn’t so much bleak as accepting. "Yes, I do understand that. You made it clear
on the atoll. You had me, but you didn't drink, not really. And you'll do it again whenever you wish. I told you already that I wouldn't oppose you." A flash of remembered pain darkened her eyes.

Her face paled; it made her look all the more ethereal to my vampire eyes. "You said you'd tell me when, and that until you did, I had no reason to thrash and wail. Which seems to suggest I've reason to do so, now that you've announced I’m your idea of an
aperitif."

In any case, if Nathalia looked quite ill for an instant as her fear of my
blood this went through her head, I thought I knew why. But then she was forcing her mind back to the issue at hand. "I mean, it hardly matters, does it, what colors you wear?"

"So, what do you think?" he asked, echoing my words of a few moments before.

His large, strong hands; the vee of neck that showed at the collar; his face… it all looked so eminently touchable. Just a glance, and as cold as the room was, I all at once felt like I was melting, my fingertips actually tingling with curiosity and something else. Not desire, no I told myself.
No, never that.

"Nice," I weakly choked out, and quit looking.

"I didn’t think you’d wear anything else," I explained, which was a flat-out lie if ever I’d uttered one. The simple truth was that I’d shopped with his dark, masculine beauty in mind. And really, shadowed colors were the ones best suited to bring forth his allure. What had I been thinking, though? Now I had to look at him in clothes that displayed his
heightened appeal to full advantage.

"Oh, yes," I had to admit. "It's a finely crafted instrument. A collector's piece, most likely. Wonderful resonance." I grimaced slightly. "I could do without the logo, though. It has The Vampire Lestat carved in hellish letters along the
back of the upright."

Ah, but I was impatient for my small taste of heaven. I could wait, but not for very much longer.

---Nathalia---

"What’s wrong?" Santino asked, studying me closely. I wondered how much he could perceive by the light of the single candle on our table. He could see in pitch blackness, couldn’t he? I
suspected as much, so he probably knew just how puckered my mouth was at that moment.

I shrugged, but made sure it looked diffident. "Well, I’m not, as far as that goes. But there’s a stretch of difference between being unafraid and being just plain stupid. He is a…" Conscious of Santino’s admonitions, I didn’t say the fateful word in public, resorting to a
bland, "… you-know-what."

I gasped as he pulled me into his arms, tucking me close against the smooth silk of his new shirt. Ye gods, the night was warm, but he was somehow cooler than I would expect, and I could feel
his coldness radiating right through the thin fabric. I wondered what that might
mean; if it had anything to do with the hunger I'd sensed in him, earlier.

"You think not?" Santino pulled me even closer and rocked with me, our bodies swaying. I swear, we were dancing to the waves. He dipped his head to my neck and licked it, long, slow swipes of his cool tongue against
my overheated skin. It made me shiver, but not with revulsion. Anything but. I felt seduced, and it made me irate that he should have this much
influence over me. But for all my anger, I didn’t feel any the less seduced.

I could swear he was going to bite me right then and there; I even braced myself
for it, but he didn’t attack. He just started kissing my neck instead, his lips moving gently and carefully all over my most sensitive flesh. My kneecaps all at once turned to wobbly jello. Before I could collapse in a heap, though, Santino pulled slightly back to whisper, "You’d be surprised."

I shivered in his arms, and tossed out a deliberately dithering reply. 
"Um... well, thanks, I guess, but no thanks."

Of course it was intense. This was his big chance, his best one yet, to persuade me I wanted something I didn’t want at all. I couldn’t let him know that, though. I needed Santino to believe there were good reasons why I should have plenty of long talks with Daniel.
But I was playing with fire, here. I had to be careful how I put things, or they
might sound like a hint.

"The right word?" We danced a while longer before I came up with one. "I don’t know. I guess talking to Daniel might be interesting, but…" I ground my words to a halt as though shying off the whole idea. "Never mind. I’d be too
nervous. You don’t know the half of it, Santino. I was so petrified by Louis that I threw up within moments of first meeting him."

"It’s true," I insisted. And it was, of course. I didn’t mention that I’d quite grown to like Louis since then, or that it had most likely been my early pregnancy contributing to
the ugly incident.

Santino appeared to think a moment. "Ok," he finally offered, "I’ll be there, too. Will that make you feel more
comfortable, more able to talk about these things?"

Bingo, I thought. Stage one, in my plan, you see was to lull Santino into a state of thorough security. I wanted him convinced that I felt just fine being with Daniel. After my hysterical fit over just such an event, an abrupt about-face just wouldn’t be credible. Hence the artifice tonight. Santino had to be there with Daniel and me, at least at first, for he had to see for himself, firsthand, that I’d gotten over my little upset. See us hit it off. See us talk of the Dark Gift and all its
myriad benefits.

Then and only then, would he be ready to let Daniel and me have some quality time alone.
Really alone -- for I certainly couldn't have Santino listening in, could I?

"Not exactly," she murmured. "There aren't words. It's… sort of stressful, I guess, but
it's not threatening."

Might as well get my point across while the getting's good,
I thought, so I answered, "Of course, Nathalia. What father doesn't want to feel his own child?"

"Yes, I know," I admitted. "I also know about a quaint mortal custom known as
adoption. Sounds good."

"You heard me," I retorted. "Don't go making idiotic statements about physical paternity. That's nothing, Nathalia. A father is as a father does, and I'm the one
who's going to be here for this child, day in and day out."

Had I asked her to? I didn't recall so doing, but I wasn't disposed to back
off the issue. "You'll sign anything I say," I told her, but not harshly. It was just a fact. "But if it bothers you so much, don't let it come to that. I'm not going to shove adoption agreements in your face unless you make me, Nathalia."

"Let me feel the baby now," I ordered. I hadn't wanted it to be this way, of course. I'd
hoped we could have a special moment together, something to bond us to each other, and to the baby. But it had all gone wrong when she'd denied me the
designation of father. I didn't want to upset her, I really didn't, but neither was I going to stand by and let her shut me out of the family I
sought after.

"Must you do as I say?" I mocked. "Hmmm. What were your two exceptions? Oh yes, you wouldn't endanger your baby and you wouldn't kill people. Well, let's think, is my hand on your stomach going to contravene
either of your cherished principles?"

You know, I really didn't know why I was being so mean to her, except that she had really hurt me. I'd be a good father to this
child. Nathalia and the baby would lack for absolutely nothing in my care; she
could certainly do worse, in my view. And she'd taken my kind offer and spit on it. But what was new about that? She'd wasted no time rejecting my other offer, after all.

Although, she had seemed willing to talk to Daniel about the lifestyle, so maybe she wasn't as opposed as she used to be.
Maybe, just maybe, if I could get the two of them talking, Nathalia would decide
that asking for the gift wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

My mood softening, I wished I could take all my insults back. Of course, I
couldn't; I still wanted to feel the baby moving.

She knew I loved black, so why would she go buy a dress in that exact color?
I must say, though, it did suit her.

"Yes, pleasure," I repeated, and then I released her hand. Slowly and methodically, I flicked the buttons of her dress open, one by one, until from collar to hem,
two sides were held together only by her hands which now clutched at them.

Beneath, her perfect white breasts were concealed by the alluring tease of a black lace bra, and matching panties covered the thatch of
dark curls between her thighs. Her softly rounded belly caught my gaze, and I
felt for the baby again, but he was still asleep, I suppose.

My lips trailed her throat, tracing the outline of her vocal chords, feeling the pulsation that was her blood surging through the veins just below the skin. The scent of that blood! Sweet as honey yet potent as smoke, it was driving me mad. Before I
lost control and ripped open her throat, I moved to take her mouth with mine.

She started pushing at me. Shoving, really. I think it took me a full minute to get the message, actually, I was that lost in the sensation of licking at her smooth white teeth and tasting the vital essence which was flowed in droplets whenever I let a fang scrape
her gum just hard enough to draw blood.

Want is such a vacuous word. By then I craved it almost as much as the
blood itself. "Yes, Nathalia," I groaned. Really, it would be so much easier just to take what I wanted. But that would miss the point.

"You haven't," she admitted, her voice rough. "So don't start now. I can't… I won't engineer some
half-assed response just to gratify you."

Lay it on the line, why don’t you? I felt like asking. Instead, I did
some straight talking, myself. "You won't fake it, is that what you mean?" Before she could answer, I was surging upright and twisting my hand in the back of her bra. With one smooth pull, I ripped all the little hooks and eyes free from their moorings, then slid the ruined lingerie off her arms.