Kylie's heart stopped when she saw the body against her windshield.

She slammed her foot on the brakes. Oh, my God. She must have hit someone.

Then she saw the face staring through the windshield at her. The rogue, the vampire who'd killed those girls in Fallen. But how? Hadn't he been "dealt" with?

She accelerated and swerved, hoping to throw him off the car. It didn't work. Clinging to the car like a spider, he inched over, smiled, and punched his fist through her car window. Glass shards went everywhere.

She screamed and pushed the accelerator harder. He reached for her.

His fist wrapped around her neck and squeezed. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Fireworks exploded before her eyes. Her last thought was of Sara. She hoped she'd healed her. One of them should live.

When Kylie woke up, she sat up on a cold, heavy wooden chair. Her head and throat throbbed. She went to rub her temple, but her hands wouldn't move. She heard a clinking noise, metal against metal. Chains? She pried open her eyes but saw nothing. Pitch-blackness surrounded her.

Shuffling her feet, she heard chains rattling again. Aware of cold metal bracelets against her ankles and wrists, her mind started rationalizing. Her arms and legs were bound with some kind of metal chain. She attempted to shift her limbs to test her theory.

Yup. Chains.

She hated being right, too. The memory of the rogue filled her head. A scream lodged in her throat.

She blinked and hoped to see something but only blackness invaded her senses. She inhaled. The scent of dirt and concrete filled her nose. The lightest intake of air reached her ears. "Is someone here?"

No answer came. "I know someone's here," she said. Trying to test her strength, she pulled at the chains.

She was barely able to move.

"So the rumors of your strength were just rumors." A raspy male voice echoed in the darkness.

"Release me!" Panicked even more, she fought against the chains that bound her, but she couldn't free herself.

"You shouldn't struggle, Kylie. You'll spend your energy uselessly. Save your strength to think. To make wise choices."

Forcing herself to calm down, she listened. The voice echoed in the room. She didn't recognize it. She remembered the rogue vampire who had crashed through her windshield. Panic clawed at her raw, dry throat.

She tried to remember what his voice had sounded like. She could hear him in her head, but it hadn't been the same. Had it?

"What kind of choices?" she asked.

"We have much to talk about." Definitely not the rogue and not a voice she'd heard before. It sounded ... rusty, almost ... old. From the way the voice bounced around the room, Kylie sensed she was in a tunnel. "Where am I? Who are you?" She would have asked what he wanted, but she was too scared to know. Face it, when you find yourself in chains in a pitch-black room, tea and scones weren't usually going to be offered.

The only noise she heard was the sound of her own breathing and the lighter short breaths from the man with the rusty voice. Her mind shot to the visions with the ghosts and she wondered if she had misread them. Was Kylie the person who would be tortured?

Taking a deep breath, she pulled against the chains. She couldn't free herself. Where was her strength? "What do we have to talk about?" she asked.

The light flickered on with blinding brightness. She blinked and on the second rise of her eyelids she saw him. He wore a strange robe, like a monk. His skin was wrinkled, leathered. She tightened her eyebrows and saw his brain pattern. As she suspected, vampire.

An old, weird vampire like Miranda's enemy Tabitha had described.

Kylie's gut had tried to tell her not to ignore it. She hoped this didn't turn out to be her fatal and final flaw.

"You were watching me."

"You have keen instincts." He stepped closer, frighteningly closer. His eyes were cold and gray. Dead gray. "Do you purposely keep your mind closed?" he asked.

She wondered how much she should tell him, or if she should tell him anything at all. Then again, if he thought she was blocking him on purpose, he might get angry. And she had to remember not to lie. "I don't know how to open up."

The sound of metal scraping concrete rang out. Kylie looked behind the old man to a door being pushed open. Her heart stopped and her throat ached as she remembered the newcomer's hand cutting off her airway.

"I told you to wait," the old man scolded.

"But, Gramps, I'm just eager to see my new bride." The rogue moved closer.

Bride? Kylie yanked at the chains, repulsed by the idea of being his bride.

"Leave now!" the old man roared. His voice might be rusty and worn, but his tone demanded obedience. Frightening obedience.

The rogue stopped two feet from her. His auburn hair wasn't soaked in blood this time, but she could still see it in her mind. She knew the minute she looked into his cold, gray eyes, he was the same vampire who'd slipped into her dressing room-and the one who'd crashed through her windshield. "She's so pretty. Don't keep her from me too long."

He shot off. The sound of the iron door slamming shut echoed throughout the room.

Kylie glared at the old man. "He murdered two young girls."

"Yes." He hung his head as if ashamed. "My grandson made many mistakes. But he will grow wiser."

"The Vampire Council was supposed to..." Kylie remembered something Della had said about the Council, namely that they were all old, and just like that, she knew. "You are part of the Council. You lied to them."

He looked up. "I did not lie. I said I would deal with this. You are part of my plan."

"He kidnapped me." Could she shame the old man into letting her go? "On my orders."

So much for that hope.

He moved closer. A sense of power moved with him. "In my day, when our young men acted out, only one thing could tame them. A woman strong enough, pretty enough, to give them a reason to settle down."

"He can't be saved." Her pulse raced as the old man inched closer. "He's wild now, but you fascinate him. Do you have any idea how many hours he spent in those woods by your camp, risking being caught, and for nothing more than a chance to see you?"

She shivered with disgust, knowing it had been him all those times. "I was curious about who had stolen my grandson's heart and I followed him. Once I saw you, I could understand what drove him. You are very fascinating." He leaned down, his face inches from hers. His breath came against her cheek and she felt sick that they shared the same airspace. "What are you, Kylie Galen? Do you even know? Is there vampire in your blood?"

"He's a murderer. I would rather die than let him lay a finger on me."

His right eyebrow arched. "Death is always an option. Not one I recommend, though."

The panic started to claw anew in her chest.

"I saw you drink the blood." His cold touch on her arm made her skin crawl. "But you are still warm. I saw the strange wolf befriend you, but you did not turn on the day of the moon. Normally, I would seek a vampire as his mate, but you ... my grandson is right. You are special."

She pulled again at her chains. "Let me go."

"You seek a family, Kylie Galen. We shall be that to you. You will bear me great-grandchildren, and with my genes and yours, they will be even more powerful. And you will teach my grandson to be a man."

"Not happening," Kylie sneered.

"We will convince you."

"I'm not easily convinced. And if your grandson isn't a man, maybe it's because he's lacked a role model."

The old man's eyes tightened. "I will tolerate much, but I demand your respect."

"You have to earn respect." It was her mom's favorite saying, and it never rang so true as it did now.

He shook his head. "In our world, respect is won by the person who has more power. Right now, my dear child, I hold all the power."

He disappeared. Vanished. Kylie didn't even see him turn into a blur.

What was he? She remembered Tabitha, the witch who Miranda caught snooping around the cabin, saying he was more than vampire, and Kylie feared the girl was right.

He might have power, Kylie thought, but she still didn't respect him.

And by God, she wouldn't bear his great-grandchildren either.

She yanked at her chains again, sought the strength within herself to get free. The strength didn't come. She considered screaming but something inside her said it would be a waste of energy. She needed to think. She needed to use her brain to get out of this.

She called out for Daniel. He was a no-show. Would the death angels or whatever it was at the falls come to her aid?

She closed her eyes and asked for help. Begged, actually. The thought of being touched by the rogue meant she wasn't above begging.

In the deep corners of her mind, a voice whispered, "You have the power within you."

"Please, that sounds like an old Star Wars movie!" When only silence answered, she continued, "This isn't any time for self-discovery." She yanked again at the chains, thinking the power she had was to break loose. She struggled until she felt her wrists and ankles bruise. "He wants me to bear his great-grandchildren. I could use some help here!"

Trying to remember to breathe, she considered what power the death angels meant. She was a ghost whisperer, she could run fast, and occasionally found unknown strength to toss werewolves long distances. And she had special hearing that came and went. There was also a possibility that she could heal-she hoped so for Sara's sake-and she could dreamscape.

I can dreamscape! Wasn't that as good as a cell phone? If she could get Lucas, Lucas could get Burnett. Burnett would get her out of this. He would. He'd bring the whole FRU down on this old dude's ass. She counted sheep. One hundred, then two. Every noise and sometimes the lack of noise kept her awake. Her eyes grew tired. She eventually grew tired. Finally, the floating sensation pulled at her subconscious. Then she flew, whooshed through the clouds. She saw him.

"You came." Lucas sat up on a king-size bed. He wore a sexy smile and no shirt. Not that now was the time to notice such things.

"The rogue has me. Get Burnett." She spoke quickly, afraid she'd wake up.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Where are you?"

"Don't know. A tunnel. There's a lot of concrete. Iron doors, too."

He looked at her in panic. "I have to know where you are."

"I was unconscious when they brought me here."

"They?"

"The rogue's grandfather. He's one of the Vampire Council."

Lucas pushed both hands through his dark hair. "Listen, Kylie. The way dreamscaping works, you can fly. You're going to have to fly back to your body, but slowly. Look down and see landmarks. Then come back and tell me where you are. I have to know where you are or I can't help you."

"What if I can't come back? What if I wake up and can't tell you?" The panic made her feel heavy and it sounded in her voice. She didn't want to leave Lucas. Although she knew it was a dream, she felt safer here.

"You can do this, Kylie. Go!" He waved her away. "Hurry."

Kylie did what Lucas told her to do. She started flying back. Too fast.

She concentrated until she found how to reduce her speed. Then she looked down. She saw a skyline. Houston skyline. She dropped lower until she saw a large building, the Toyota Center, she recognized it. Then she remembered her father had taken her downtown into the Houston tunnels.

Flying through the tunnel, unstopped by the walls, Kylie didn't slow down until she saw herself. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Seeing oneself slumped over in a chair, chained like a scene in a horror movie, freaked her out. She heard a noise. The iron door began to open. She felt herself falling into her body.

"No!" She had to get back to Lucas. She had to give him directions on how to find her.

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