A Girl's Guide to Vampires

Chapter Twelve

Even quiescent, Raphael's dangly parts were an impressive sight. I was amazed anew that he fit into me, but since he had, and we had both enjoyed the fitting process, I wasn't going to complain. I glanced up to see if my moving down on the bed had disturbed him, but he remained on his back, sprawled across the bed, one arm crooked over his head, the other outstretched toward the wall. His chest rose and fell regularly, the belly tattoo reminding me that there were hidden depths to the man who had captured my heart.

"Your owner doesn't snore, but he is most definitely a bed hog," I told his penis, stroking down the soft, velvety length of it with my fingertip. I didn't often spend the night with a man, but the few times I had, I did not find myself sleeping more or less tucked under my bed partner, his arm and a leg pinning me down and keeping me cocooned in his warmth. "It's not a bad way to sleep, mind you," I added, determined to be fair. "I certainly felt safe, protected from marauders or wolves or whatever. Still, there's no denying he's a bed hog. But then, there's so much of him, I suppose it's no surprise."

I patted Mr. Happy and pushed him a bit to the side so I could admire the long line of Raphael's legs, stroking the heavy thigh muscle. His skin felt like the softest velvet covering steel. I leaned forward to taste, placing a line of chaste kisses along his inner thigh, pausing when he muttered in his sleep and shifted his leg.

"Oh no you don't," I whispered as he narrowed my working space. I gently eased his leg back to where I wanted it, climbing over him until I was lying on my belly between his thighs, bobbing my feet over my behind as I contemplated the view. "Thigh one, thigh two, or Big Jim and the twins? Ha! Sounds like some sort of X-rated version of Dr. Seuss."

I decided that what worked for me would probably work for him as well, so I nuzzled my mouth against the velvet heat of his thighs, kissing and nibbling my way up his leg until I reached a dead end. Raphael said something unintelligible as he moved again in his sleep, but I kept his legs where I wanted them, smiling with wicked intent at the object facing me. I scooted up until I was sitting on my knees, one hand stroking a path up either leg as I leaned forward and gave him a little encouragement to wake up.

He did. All of him.

"Ah, baby, I thought I was dreaming," he moaned, the muscles in his legs stiffening as I rasped my tongue on the sensitive underside of his no-longer-dangling bit. He lifted his head to watch me as I moved up and down on him, applying as much negative pressure as I thought he could stand. "I am dreaming," he croaked, his eyes rolling back in his head as his hips thrust upward at me.

"You're not the only one who's good at this," I told him with no little amount of smugness in my voice.

"Nnnnnnnnnang!" he agreed, his body glistening with a light sheen of perspiration as I applied myself to making him lose control.

I pointed out later just how dedicated I was to seeing a job done right.

"Very dedicated," he said from the floor of the hallway where he lay in a tangle of blankets, gasping great quantities of air.

I rolled onto my stomach and peered over the end of the bed at him. "How did you end up down there while I'm up here? Didn't we start out at the same spot?"

"Magic," he wheezed, little aftershocks rippling through him. I smiled and would have commented on just what sort of magic he worked on me, but I caught sight of the alarm clock lying on the floor next to him.

"Blast! I've got to go. I promised Roxy I'd have breakfast with her, and then we're going to visit a folk museum someone recommended, and then we have an appointment to see Christian's dungeons."

Raphael lay with his eyes closed until that last item; then he cracked them open and pinned me back with an amber glare. "Alone?"

I smiled as I stepped carefully over him to grab my clothes. I've always maintained that a little bit of jealousy looks good on a man. "Roxy will be there with me, so stop looking like you're going to do something stupid like forbid me to go, because it won't do you the least bit of good, and we'll only end up arguing, and then we'll make up our argument with more wild, untamed sex, and if we do that, I'll miss the museum. So you just go back to sleep now and get all nice and rested for later on."

"Later on?" His brows pulled together in a frown.

My reply was muffled as I spoke while pulling my dress over my head. "I thought we could get together at the bar before you go to work and Roxy and I meet Christian for dungeon viewing."

"What's wrong with you meeting me here?" he demanded, still frowning. I slipped on my shoes and stepped over him, lowering myself to sit on his stomach.

"Look at you, you're drained as dry as a rag," I said, trailing my fingers across the rippling muscles in his chest, leaning forward to tease the tip of an impudent nipple. His hands were warm as they pushed my skirt up my legs. "If you plan on being the love of my life, you're going to have to build up your strength. We'll work you into a full program of nonstop lovemaking slowly. Today you sleep, tonight you be social with me in public, and later on, after the fair's shut down for the night…" I gave him my best leer.

His hands tightened on my thighs as I leaned down to kiss him. He tasted like a sated man, warm and happy and utterly delicious.

"Am I?" he asked, his hands abandoning my legs to wrap around my waist, pulling me down over his chest so he could deepen the kiss. His tongue mated with mine, dancing a seductive dance that made me want to do over again everything we'd just done.

"Boy, you sure do give one hell of a goodbye kiss," I murmured, stroking my fingers through his hair. "Are you what?"

The look he gave me could have steamed open a clam. "The love of your life."

I melted onto him and gave him a kiss that should have said it all, but just in case it didn't, I added, "Yes, I very much think you are."

Smug complacency stole over his face as he let me go. "I like a woman who makes up her mind quickly."

I decided to leave his male ego inflated, and went to gather my things.

"Baby?"

From any other man, that term would rankle, irritating me enough to point out that I was neither an infant nor someone who enjoyed being treated like one, but the way Raphael said the word sparked a fire deep inside me.

"What is it, Bob?"

He rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand. "Remember that goodbye kiss when you're with Dante."

I let him see the desire in my eyes. "As if I could forget it?"

The morning was bright after the cloudy night of the evening past, but the wind was still sharp as it whipped leaves into doing somersaults along the ground. Birds squabbled raucously over garbage in the dustbins near the food booths, scattering with hoarse objections when I jogged through them. The lingering acrid smell of burnt canvas and wood hung in the morning air as I passed the Kirlian aura photo booth, but I was pleased to see that new wood had been hammered into the charred, blackened frame of the booth. Evidently, Raphael and his crew had been busy while I slept through the last few hours of the fair. The main tent had been restored to its former state as well, I noticed as I hurried past it, although there were a few tears in the canvas, and some spray-painted words that I thought were best left untranslated. I glanced to my right toward the tent city as I passed beyond the fair, and almost came to a halt at what I saw.

"It's a population explosion!" The half of the meadow given over to the tents was now a solid mass of bodies, tents, vehicles, tables, chairs—and all, at this time of the morning, strangely quiet. I waved at a man sitting cross-legged, wrapped in a blanket as he groggily poured dog food into a bowl for an attentive black dog, and headed out of the camp for the hotel.

An hour later I had washed off the scent of Raphael and our activities, and was dressed in jeans and my fisherman's sweater. Roxy eyed me as I smiled at the waitress, mimed my need for coffee, and sat down at a table next to the window.

"Geez, I though you'd never get here," Roxy said with a sour look. "I know I told you to have fun, but I didn't expect you to have that much fun. I'm surprised to see you can still walk."

I waited until I had ordered breakfast and took a few sips of life-restoring coffee before answering her.

"You know, I'm going to be so glad when you find Mr. Right and I can tease you for a change."

"You're grinning," she accused me, a frown wrinkling her brow. "You should have snapped my head off for that comment, but you didn't, and you're grinning to boot. Oh, Lord, don't tell me you've fallen for more than just his pretty crotch?"

I sipped my coffee and admired the view of the mountains and forest in the distance. "Isn't it lovely here? I like this area."

"Dammit, you have, haven't you? You've gone and fallen in love with him!"

"It's a little brisk this time of year, but sometimes brisk is good. I like the feel of fall in the air."

"Joy, you idiot, don't you know that you're just a fling to him? Holiday romances never last!"

"And the people are so nice here. Don't you think the people are nice here? I think the people are nice."

"Once the festival here is over, he'll be off to Italy with the rest of the fair, and you'll be flying home. Have you even thought about the future?"

"I thought the language would be a problem, but you know, it's really not. Everyone speaks German or French."

"You don't know anything about him! You can't just throw yourself on someone you don't know anything about. How can you think about getting serious with a man who keeps secrets from you? Doesn't it bother you in the least that you don't really know him?"

"It's a romantic area, too, what with all the history surrounding us."

Roxy tossed her hands up in a gesture of defeat. "I give up. You just go right ahead and head for Heartbreak Hotel. I'll try to pick up the pieces of what's left of your heart after Raphael stomps all over it. I won't say another word about the fact that you're making the greatest mistake of your life."

"Thanks. You're a doll."

"However—"

I groaned and grabbed a roll from the basket, reaching for the butter and preserves.

"—if I was to say something to you, it would probably be to point out that although you've had more experience with physical relationships than I have, you've always had worse taste in men than me."

"Mmmf mmf mmmf mweamfam moo."

"What?"

I swallowed my mouthful of roll. "La la la, I can't hear you."

"Sure you can, you're just too stubborn to admit I'm right. You two deserve each other. Hey! Do you realize that you and Raphael just took the fifth step of Joining?"

"Fifth?" I thought about it. Roxy was right, if the third step was the first passionate kiss we shared, the fourth would have been Raphael revealing his secret to me, only—

"He didn't tell me his secret," I objected. "So the fourth step is void even if we did do the fifth step. Repeatedly. With much enjoyment."

"He told you he had a secret! That's almost the same thing as telling you what it was."

"No, it's not."

"Sure it is! Trust me, it counts as the fourth step."

"Regardless, the point is moot. Raphael is not a Dark One."

"My point exactly! You should be thinking through this relationship a bit more before you throw away your whole life for him."

And on it went. Unfortunately, Roxy didn't keep her word, taking periodic opportunities to point out the idiocy of falling in love with a man I knew nothing about. When I reminded her that she'd been perfectly happy for me to bind myself to him when she thought he was a bloodsucking soulless wonder, she waved that point away with the statement that Dark Ones never ran off with another woman while their Beloved was left pregnant and penniless adrift in a strange land.

I had to admit that she had a point, but it didn't dim the strength of my blossoming emotions one bit. They might not be rock solid yet, but I felt strongly that Raphael and I had taken steps down the path to something a bit more serious than a holiday fling. As for the wisdom of falling in love with a man I knew little about… well, I squelched that niggling worry with the reminder that everything important, everything that truly mattered about Raphael—his character, his morals, the fact that he wasn't the undead—was already clear to me.

Roxy and I visited the museum, poked around two nearby towns, and returned to the hotel for an afternoon nap.

"The fair's late hours and your insistence on being a tourist are playing merry hell with my beauty sleep," Roxy grumbled an hour and a half later when I woke her.

"You don't have to stay out until two A.M. every night, you know. What did you and Christian do all that time?"

She groaned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "He left at about one. I hung out with a group of people from Portugal. Did you know there were Portuguese Goths? There are. They're kind of cute, too. None of them speak English, but we had a good time dancing. I think maybe we should go to Portugal before we go home."

I didn't say anything, just looked out the tiny window to the rooftops of nearby buildings.

"Joyful? I know you'll start 'la la la-ing' again if I bring it up, but have you asked Raphael what his plans are after this weekend?"

I sighed and turned around to face her. "No. It's too soon. We've only just gotten together. I can't be asking him yet if he thinks we should make the effort to stay together or if he doesn't have any room for me in his life."

"Pooh on him—how about you?" Roxy asked, smoothing out the down comforter. "Do you have room in your life for him? Would you leave everything at home for him? Would you travel around with the fair just to be with him?"

I started for the door. "Why do you always ask hard questions?"

"Someone has to. Joy, the fair is due to leave in four days. If this is as serious as you think it is, shouldn't you two be talking about the future beyond a few days of jumping each other's bones?"

I paused at the door for a minute, my hand smoothing over the cool planes of wood. "If you're asking if I've thought of what it would mean to leave everything behind, the answer is, yes, I have. If you're asking will I go through with it—well, that answer depends on Raphael. If you're done grilling me now, I'll see you down in the bar. The gentleman in question said he'd try to drop by for a few minutes before he has to get the security teams in place."

"You're not stupid, Joy," she called out as I closed the door. "If you think he's really different, if he's the one you've been looking for, make him prove it."

Our neighbor across the hall emerged from the shared bathroom, keeping me from bellowing my reply to Roxy. I smiled, murmured politely in my best German, and skipped down the stairs to the bar where I hoped Raphael would be waiting.

He was, but he sat against a wall with three tables pushed together, surrounded by seven fair employees, mostly guys who did all the grunt work around the fair. A large sheet of paper was in the center of the table, and Raphael was marking off areas that I assumed he felt were hot spots. He had told me earlier that the shape of the grounds had altered how they set up the fair, so I gathered he had called a strategy meeting to alert everyone as to how best to handle the swarm of people expected for the next few days.

Arielle sat across from the guys, a glass of untouched beer in front of her. I blew Raphael a kiss when he looked up and smiled at me, then went to sit down with Arielle.

"Good afternoon, Joy," she said in her careful English.

I scooted in the opposite side of the booth and reached across the table to pat her hand. "Hi, Arielle. What's wrong? You look like you've been crying. Are you upset about something? Is something the matter?"

She gave me a pathetic smile. "I look like I have been crying because I have been crying. Something is wrong, but I am not upset."

I lifted both eyebrows. "No?"

Her gaze dropped to her hands. "Perhaps just a little."

My heart went out to her. I was sure her sister had ragged on her over her decision to stick with her boyfriend. I looked around the bar to see if Tanya was lurking in a corner. It was dusk, night just beginning to take over the sky, and there was a steady stream of people coming into the bar, but thankfully no Tanya. I assumed that with the huge hordes in the tent city, all of the bars in town would be running at full capacity. A busy bar was no place for Arielle to be doing the unloading she clearly wanted to do. "Listen, if you'd like to have a good cry, you're welcome to use my room. It's not great, but it will give you a little privacy."

"No, I am not going to cry anymore," she said adamantly, giving a defiant little dab to her nose. "Paal said it is not necessary to cry since all will resolve well." She gave a big sniff and sent an adoring glance over to a prematurely balding Viking sitting at the end of Raphael's table. Paal gave her a little nod and turned his attention back to the orders Raphael was snapping out. "It is Tanya, you know? Dominic had an argue with her last night, a big argue. Much of it was about you, but once they were finished, Dominic said it was that Tanya was no longer compatible with him, and she must leave since she caused very much trouble last night."

"Trouble? You mean trouble other than the scene when I read the runes?"

Arielle nodded. "Yes. Dominic was very angry with her, and Milos said she was a responsabilité to the fair and that she must leave."

"Responsabilité? Oh, you mean she was a liability? Because she's angry over the way Dominic has been treating her? I have to say that although there's no love lost between Tanya and me, I'm in agreement with her on that issue. Dominic is a classic example of the love-'em-and-leave-'em type who should be beaten soundly by their own egos."

"No, it is not because of their affair which has ended so sadly, but of the other that Milos is so angry about."

I sat back against the high settle. "Wait a minute, you've lost me. What does Milos have to do with the history between Dominic and Tanya?"

"Milos owns the fair with Dominic, yes?"

I nodded.

"Dominic is for the customers, the… mmm… ringleader?"

"Ringmaster? That's a circus term, but I think I know what you mean. He's the flashy bit of show for all the people attending the fair, while Milos is the silent partner?"

"No, he is not silent, he speaks many languages quite well, better than me. But he is the businessman. He finds the bands and makes the arrangements for where we will stop. He is the one who pays us."

"Ah, he's the moneybags. Gotcha. So what did Tanya do that miffed Milos enough to make him angry at her?"

"She threatened to go to the local police with information about violations of the permit granted to the fair," Raphael said as he slid in next to me.

I was distracted for a moment by the warm press of his leg against mine. Raphael was a big man, but even allowing for that fact, he didn't just sit, he dominated whatever environment he was in, making spaces that previously appeared adequate suddenly seem intimate. Was I going to complain about the fact that he took over our side of the booth, squishing me up against him? I was not. I just breathed in that wonderful clean smell that always seemed to cling to him, and made a mental note to buy stock in whatever company produced the soap he used.

"She also threatened to tell the truth about Dominic to the newspapers unless he kept his promise to make her a partner in the fair. That was after she accused him of sleeping with you, Roxy, and approximately half the female population of Eastern Europe," Raphael drawled, signaling to the bartender.

"Truth? What sort of truth? The truth that he's not really a vampire? That's hardly worthwhile as blackmail material," I said.

He shrugged. "I don't think that's what she was talking about, but as no one chose to enlighten me as to the truth, I can only speculate what she meant to do."

I mulled that over as I watched Theresa, one of the owner's daughters who doubled as a barmaid, trot over to Raphael, ogling him despite the fact I was plastered against his side.

"Raphael, how nice to see you again," she cooed, blatantly ignoring Arielle and me. "Will you be free later? There are many things I would like to show you." She licked her lips. I put a possessive hand on his thigh and gave her a squinty-eyed glare to let her know I didn't appreciate poachers. She gave him a look that could have steamed drapes. "Many sights around the town, of course."

Oh, right. Let's have a show of hands for those of you who believed it was sightseeing she had on her mind.

"Thank you, I'm going to be busy later," Raphael said gently.

Theresa pouted as Raphael placed our orders, curling the fingers of his hand into my hair and teasing the back of my neck. "And you thought I was acting territorial," he said quietly.

"You don't mind if I rubber stamp TAKEN on your forehead, do you?" I asked, pleasure shivering down my back at his touch.

He grinned in response. "Only if you promise to wear a robe and veil in return."

I slid my hand up his thigh a little just to let him know what effect he was having on me. When I turned back to Arielle, she was smiling at us delightedly, a definite twinkle in her eye.

"Don't you dare say what you want to say," I warned her, laughing as she suddenly looked chagrined. "You're as bad as Roxy."

Her smile returned. "It is just that I am so very happy to see you happy. Both of you. It is good to find someone you are matched with, yes?"

"Mmm." I turned back to Raphael. "So what happened after Tanya threatened Dominic? Milos told her to pack up her stuff and go?"

"More or less." He tossed a few coins to Theresa as she brought our beers. She sloshed some of mine onto the table in front of me, but other than giving her another glare, I didn't say anything.

"Getting information from you is like pulling teeth," I complained, mopping up my spilled beer. "By the way, are you intending to drink that one or dump it in a plant when you think no one is watching?"

He looked startled for a moment before his eyes went to a dark amber.

"That first night," I explained. "I saw you spill your beer in the plant. It was one of the reasons Roxy believed you were a"—I glanced at Arielle and gave her a toothy smile—"it's one of the reasons we thought you were someone else."

"I plan to drink this one," he said, his eyes muted. "This is a lager. The other was a dark ale and too strong."

"Too strong?"

"I don't like to drink much before the fair opens. That night the bartender was bragging to me about the strength of his local brew; I didn't want to hurt his feelings if I didn't drink it."

I gave his thigh a little squeeze to show my appreciation for his thoughtfulness toward others, and then another one just because I liked to squeeze his thigh. I was rewarded when he shifted restlessly. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that my hand so near Happyland was having a predictable effect. I resisted the urge to torment him further and withdrew my hand.

"It was a very bad time last night," Arielle broke into my smutty thoughts. "I was present as well, and there is nothing to tell other than Tanya was most angry at Dominic, and when Milos told her she must leave the fair after the festival, she cried and returned to our trailer." Her gaze dropped at those last words, tears puddling up in her pretty blue eyes. "I did not go to her as I should. Paal had arranged—that is, I was to be with Paal that evening, and I did not go back to the trailer until much later. And now she is gone!"

"Gone?" I asked, looking between her and Raphael. "She's left the fair already?"

"No," Arielle said before Raphael could answer. "Her things are still in the trailer, but she has not been seen for many hours."

I looked at Raphael.

"I think she's probably gone somewhere to lick her wounds," he answered my unasked question. "If she doesn't return by later tonight, Arielle can contact the police."

Arielle's lip quivered at the last word.

"Arielle can contact them? You're the security guy—don't you think you should do that?"

He looked away. "No. It's better if she does it."

Better for whom? I wondered. Why was Raphael so reticent to talk to the police? I was sure it had something to do with his secret. The idea of him doing something wrong, seriously wrong, was unthinkable, so I quickly cobbled together another explanation. Maybe the charges against him were false, accusing him of some illegal crime that he didn't do, but which resulted in him being on the run from the police. That would explain his desire to hide out with a small fair that never stayed in one location for any length of time. A sniff from Arielle had me leaving that avenue of thought and returning to her problem.

"You don't think…" I hesitated to bring it up in front of her, but I didn't like the sound of Tanya disappearing without taking her things. I pinched Raphael's thigh until he looked at me. "You don't think something could have happened to her, do you? What with the recent event in Heidelberg?"

His eyes glittered brightly, a sign he understood my unspoken question.

"Doubtful," he said with a glance to Arielle, his hand tightening on mine. Beneath both our hands his leg was tense. Clearly he was more concerned about Tanya than he was willing to let on.

"Heidelberg?" she asked. Her eyes widened in distress as she understood what I had meant. "You mean Tanya could be like that poor woman—"

"No, of course not. I'm sure she's just off somewhere pouting," I reassured her as I patted her hand again. "I'm willing to bet she's holed up with someone in the tent city. There must be at least three hundred people there now. She'll turn up tonight, you'll see. The murder in Heidelberg was just an isolated incident, one that has nothing to do with the fair. I'm sorry I mentioned it."

I looked to Raphael for support, but surprisingly, he said nothing.

"I hope you are right," Arielle said with another quick glance at her balding Viking as he sat laughing with the group of workers from the fair.

Roxy walked into the bar, waved at us, and turned to call back through the door. Raphael stiffened as Christian followed her.

"There they are. Do we have time for a beer? Hi, Raphael. You look surprisingly rested considering Joy's lustful appetites." Roxy stopped teasing as soon as she caught sight of Arielle's face. She scooted in beside her and shot me an accusatory glare. "Arielle, what's wrong? You look like you've been crying!"

"Don't look at us, we didn't do anything to her," I said before turning to Christian and greeting him. He pulled up a chair and sat at the end of the table, nodding to Raphael. Raphael nodded back. In a smooth Mr. Casual move that men have practiced for eons, he dropped his arm over my shoulders and hauled me even closer to his side.

Christian's eyebrows rose at the blatant show of possession.

"Subtlety is his forte," I told him.

"Would you like me to go find that veil now?" Raphael growled. I pinched his thigh.

"Oh my God," Roxy said, having got the full story from Arielle. "They're firing Tanya? Wow. Bad karma. Guess that qualifies as another one of Joy's disasters, huh?"

"No, it does not."

"Sure it does. It's right up there with that poor couple's house you washed into the ocean."

"I didn't wash their house into the ocean—the storm did!"

"Same difference."

I bit back the retort, refusing to argue with her in front of everyone. Roxy reassured Arielle that Tanya was sure to show up soon. "Bad pennies and all that," she said sagely. Luckily, Arielle didn't understand the reference.

A half hour later we headed out to our respective destinations: Roxy, Christian, and I to his castle to see the dungeons and have the grand tour, and the fair folk back to the meadow to get ready for the crowds. Raphael held the door open for me as I left the hotel, walking beside me with his hand resting possessively on my lower back as he escorted us to the parking area.

"You could place a tag in her ear and a radio collar around her neck," Christian suggested from behind us. "It might keep you from wondering where she is."

Raphael's hand tightened on my back. "But not who she's with," he snapped in return.

"Boys, if you insist on having that pissing contest, please do it downwind," I said in my best mom voice, glaring at Raphael. He glared at me in return, then suddenly pulled me close in an extremely hard, dominating kiss. His mouth was hot and demanding as his tongue got all pushy with mine, ordering it around and generally behaving as if it owned the place. I thought about asking Raphael and his tongue where they got off, then admitted to the shameful secret that I loved it when his body got bossy with me. I sighed into his mouth and allowed him to plunder at will.

"If that's how he kisses goodbye, you have to wonder how he—"

"That's enough!" I tore my mouth from the heat of Raphael's and glared at Roxy sitting in the front seat of Christian's car. She grinned back.

"I see what you mean about subtlety being one of his virtues," Christian said with just a hint of terseness in his voice. "If you're quite finished…" He held the rear door open for me.

Raphael gave me a look that told me to behave myself. I gave him one that informed him I always behaved myself, and that he'd better not be finding any excuses to go back to the hotel to have another beer, at least not while that man-stealing hussy Theresa was on duty, lest he find a certain portion of his anatomy severed away with a dull butter knife and two rusted spoons.

He rolled his eyes.

Drahanská's dungeon was not what I'd expected. I figured old castle dungeons were bound to be dank, dark with memories of suffering and horror, rotting torture devices lying broken and forgotten in a corner, the air tainted with the whisper of rats scurrying off into the shadows. Christian, I was just coming to realize, was a man of many surprises, and his dungeon followed true to form. The steps leading down to the lowest level of the castle were cut out of stone, but lit by electric lights on the wall. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I braced myself for dirt and rats.

Christian flipped a switch. I stared in complete surprise as a line of lights recessed into the low stone ceiling hummed to life, illuminating a long row of marble statues, each on a matching marble pedestal.

"Statues?" Roxy asked, pushing past me to stare at the nearest statue. "You keep statues in your dungeon?"

"Can you think of a better place for them?" Christian asked, moving past her to turn on a spotlight for the statue she was looking at.

"They're beautiful," I said, gently touching the stone leg of a partially nude woman. They truly were stunning works of art. Museum quality, I was guessing. The lines of the woman's face were delicately rendered with exquisite detail, almost as realistic as the sweep of material sliding off her shoulders. I couldn't help but draw my fingers down the stone folds, marveling at the talent of the sculptor.

"Where are all the torture devices? Where's your rack?" Roxy asked, disappointment rife in her voice as she wandered down the line of statues.

"That is Venus," Christian told me as he flipped the light on for the figure I stood before. His voice was as smooth as the polished stone under my fingers.

"I've never seen anything like it," I said.

He stood next to me, his eyes soft with satisfaction as he looked at the statue. The woman was reclining back against a column, a seductive look on her face as she toyed with the folds of the material partially covering her. "I have one or two Italian pieces here, but the rest are patron saints of the Czech Republic."

"Where are your walls stained with the blood of thousands of men tortured over the centuries? Where are your skeletons hanging from a cage? I thought for sure there were going to be skeletons!" Roxy's plaintive voice echoed down the long room.

"She is beautiful, is she not?" Christian stroked a finger down the woman's exposed calf, ending where my hand rested on a delicately arched foot. His fingers touched mine briefly, but I knew it was no casual touch.

I withdrew my hand. "Yes, very beautiful."

"She is five hundred years old." He cocked his head and looked at me. Under the spotlight, his eyes were black and unfathomable. "I believe that you and she share a timeless quality in your beauty."

"Where are your rusty swords and shackles and cat o' nine tails? Isn't that standard equipment in a dungeon? I'm sure it is."

"Christian—" I hesitated telling him to lay off his advances to me. I felt bad enough about him without being rude to the man in his own home, but I didn't want him to think he could continue.

"You have chosen," he said calmly, his face a mask, his eyes intense and unreadable.

"Yes, I have, and I'm sorry if that hurts you in any way, but I think if you see that you really aren't interested in me, you're just into some macho game trying to one-up Raphael, you'll realize how silly this all is."

"You do not believe that you are the one meant for me."

"I know I'm not," I said gently, trying to edge away.

"You are wrong," he said simply. "Since you do not believe me, I will have to prove it to you."

"Now, wait," I protested, getting a bit worried over the stark look around his eyes. "There's no reason to prove anything—"

Blackness opened at my feet as I balanced on the edge, consumed with hunger, blasted with the hot breath of anguish so strong it stripped the air from my lungs. Memories of dark, endless, solitary nights, one after the other spanning centuries, filled my mind as unceasing despair shredded my soul until there was nothing left but the memory of a life beyond this nightmare. In the middle of the torment was a tiny flame of hope, of the salvation that one person could bring, the return of life, of an end to the eternal loneliness… and the long-hoped-for promise of love.

I backed away from the blackness, backed away from Christian until the icy cold of marble met my back. I stared at him, shaking my head as he watched me, unable to understand everything he was pouring into my mind.

"No," I whispered, clutching the statue and slowly working my way around it, wanting only to put distance between Christian and me. "Not you. It can't be you."

Roxy called out something from beyond the statues, but her words did not reach me. There was only Christian's beautiful voice and desperate eyes. He moved slowly toward me, using his voice to calm me. "Beloved, do not run from me. I will not harm you."

"No," I said, unable to take my eyes from him, unwilling to believe the evidence before me. I backed up another couple of steps. "How could you do this to me? I thought you were my friend—how could you do this?"

He took a step toward me, his hands held out with the palms up, as if to show he meant me no harm. "I did not intend that you should suffer, Beloved. I was not aware you had found me, I could not know you were able to read my thoughts so easily. Once I saw you, once I realized you were in distress, I blocked my mind from yours."

"Not entirely," I said, rubbing my arms and shivering with the chill that seemed to permeate me with the memory of his intimate visits. Something cold pressed into my backside as I continued to back away from him. I scooted around the statue. "You… touched me."

He took another step forward. "It is my right. You are my Beloved."

"It is not your right," I corrected him, clinging to the statue for support as I moved past it. "I am not your Beloved. I love Raphael, not you. Nothing you say is going to change that fact."

He waved away my objections as he glided forward another step. I let go of the statue and reached behind me to feel where the next one was. "The love you think you feel for him is an illusion," he said. "Your mind does not wish to accept your fate, and so it creates a means of escape for you. Once we have taken the fifth step of the Joining, you will realize the truth of your emotions."

"Joy? Christian? What are you guys doing over there?"

"You betrayed me. I looked to you for help, I thought you were my friend, and you betrayed me." The cold, sightless eyes of a long-dead saint peered down on me in sorrow as I moved past him.

"Hey, guys? What's going on?" Roxy's voice grew louder as she approached.

Christian suddenly lunged at me, catching me off guard, wrapping me in an embrace of inflexible intent.

"GUYS?"

"Don't do this," I pleaded with Christian. "You're wrong, I know you're wrong, I feel it in my bones. We were not meant to be together. Somehow, somewhere, something got screwed up. I'm not the woman you need."

"Joy?" Roxy appeared at my side, but Christian never spared her a glance. I was afraid to take my eyes from him, sure that if I did so, his control would snap.

"I have lived almost nine hundred years," he said quietly, his arms like steel around me. I heard Roxy gasp, but she said nothing. "I have seen countless Dark Ones give themselves over to the monster that lives within because they could no longer wait to find their Beloved. There has never been a case where a Dark One has chosen the wrong woman. It is impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," I whispered, allowing my weight to rest against his arms. "'There are more things in heaven and Earth'—Shakespeare knew that, and I know it as well. I wish I could ease your pain, but the simple truth is that I cannot be your Beloved. I love Raphael. I need Raphael. I want him, and only him. He is my other half. If you try to make me into something I'm not, you will only destroy us both. Do you want that, Christian? Do you want to destroy me?"

His eyes closed for a moment, but, held so close to him, I could feel the wave of pain wash over him even though he kept his mind blocked from mine. I realized at that moment that he wasn't fooling himself; he truly believed I was his Beloved, the woman who would redeem him and give his life meaning.

And with that knowledge I became very, very afraid.

"I'm not quite sure what's going on here," Roxy said, her eyes huge as she looked between the two of us. "But whatever it is, it's starting to give me the creeps, and Joy doesn't look any too happy either, so maybe we'd better give the rest of the tour a skip, huh?"

"I will not hurt you," Christian said, his voice slipping around me to whisper velvet-soft against my skin. "I will never hurt you, of that I swear."

"Thank you," I said, meaning it. I had a nasty suspicion that unless I could convince him that I was not his soul mate, I'd be called on to hold that promise up as my own salvation.

His eyes searched mine for another second before he released me from his iron hold. I started to breathe again, surprised to realize that I'd been holding my breath. Christian took a step back, then made a slight bow in Roxy's direction. "You are in possession of a truth that very few people have known over the centuries. I hope you will not abuse my trust in your discretion."

"Oh, no," Roxy assured him. Her face was pale, her eyes wary as he took her chin in his hand and stared into her eyes. "Honest, Christian. I would never tell anyone your secret."

He looked at her a bit longer, then released her chin and swept his hand toward the stairs in an elegant gesture. "As neither of you wish to see any more of the dungeon, we can return to the upper floors and continue the tour."

I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and throw myself into Raphael's arms, but the memory of Christian's anguish was strong. I gave Roxy a feeble smile in answer to her questioning look as I shook off the clinging sense of nightmare, heading up the stairs toward the bright glow of reality.