THE LAST TIME I SAW CHAEL, HEAD OF THE MIDDLE Eastern Vampire Tribe, it was exactly two months ago today. He was dressed in Savile Row then. Today it's Rodeo Drive. He's in dark slacks and a cream-colored polo shirt, leather loafers on stocking-less feet.

He looks up when I enter, radiates no concern that I've jumped into full vampire mode. He lays the paper down, rises slowly, hands outstretched placatingly. He is slight of stature, dark-skinned, with sharp features and hard eyes. When he stands, we are eye to eye.

He waits for me to speak first, hands still outstretched as if to show he has come unarmed.

We are vampire. We are never unarmed.

Teeth gritted, I open my thoughts. He speaks no English, but we can communicate the way of all vampires, telepathically. You have violated my privacy. How did you get in?

A shrug. It was not difficult. The glass door off your bedroom was unlocked.

Stupid of me. I often leave that slider open. Too high for a human to access but not a vampire.

Is an unlocked door considered an invitation to trespass in your country?

Chael lifts his palms in a gesture that admits he overstepped, but he offers no apology.

Why are you here?

Uninvited, he sits back down, picks up the newspaper and scans the front page. You have been busy. Interfering in mortal affairs again. One eyewitness says that you "flew" over a counter and across the floor to shoot a man armed with a rifle. They are calling it a miracle. I call it an inexcusable display from one who is bent on keeping our existence a secret.

So, you read English now?

A deprecating shrug. I had someone translate the story for me.

I'll bet. Irritation pokes at me. I growl, The last time I checked, I didn't answer to you. And what concern is this of yours? You are a long way from your home territory.

It is the concern of all vampire when their true nature has been exposed. What do you plan to do to rectify this violation?

I close down the conduit between us. What I plan to do is none of his business. I know faddish human nature. This will pass as soon as something more interesting comes along to capture the imagination of the public. A baseball team will reach the playoffs, a movie star will be arrested for consorting with a fifteen-year-old. Mortal attention span is short.

You have no plan, do you? Chael shakes his head. As the Chosen One, you are proving once again how immature and ill prepared you are to lead a superior race.

This again. My temper rises as the real reason for this visit suddenly strikes me. He is not here because of what happened yesterday at the supermarket. He couldn't have known about it until this morning.

He is here because of what happened last night in the desert. The rogue was his vampire.

Enough posturing, Chael. You care nothing for human concerns. You are here because I killed your whore.

A cold light flashes in his eyes, a hint of a smile touches his mouth. She was a whore. But a useful one. She had influence over the vampire community in our part of the world.

So why did you send her here? Why did you let her indulge her sick game?

He looks surprised at the question. To get your attention, of course. I knew of your history with your own whoremonger, the mortal, Max. I knew he would come to you when it became obvious a vampire was committing the killings. I knew you'd kill her in turn.

An elaborate charade. What if Max hadn't called me or I had refused to help?

Then the killings would have gone on until you had no choice but to get involved. You and that highly developed sense of responsibility toward mortals. It isn't in you to let bodies pile up in your own backyard.

So I met her and killed her. What was the point?

A miscalculation. I thought you'd at least hear her out before you killed her. I know you did not.

Shit. He was there. Why didn't I pick up on that?

For some reason, Chael doesn't unleash the beast in me. I sense he's evil, but I don't get the gut reaction to his presence that I have with others-both human and supernaturals. I don't understand it. I wish it wasn't so. I should have known that he was waiting inside for me before I opened the door. I should have known that he was out in the desert last night.

I didn't.

Chael is silent, calm, waiting for me to process what he suspects but cannot read because he has no access to my thoughts. I study him the way he is studying me. He is not inclined to comment or offer an explanation. Perhaps he doesn't understand, either, but he must know he has the advantage. Which is very likely why he took the chance of coming into my home.

My jaw clenches in frustration. What do you want?

Chael has placed the newspaper back on the coffee table, folding it neatly, squaring the corners so that it lies against the table's edge. He looks up at me, a real smile lighting his face and softening the hard glint in black eyes. For the first time, I glimpse the human twenty-year-old he must have been when he was turned.

I am here to solve your problems, Anna Strong. I am here to grant your heart's desire.

A snort of bitter amusement greets his proposal. Oh? And you presume to know my heart's desire?

I knew it the moment I first learned of you. And everything you have done since the beginning confirms my belief. I know how you can achieve your dream. I know how you can unburden yourself of all the problems in your life.

He gets to his feet, begins pacing as he talks. That incident with your business partner? I can make it so his memory is truly wiped clean. You and he can once again become the friends you were, sharing more than the shallow relationship you have now. Detective Harris will find you much less interesting when he realizes there is nothing special about you. He will move on to more important cases; Williams will finally be put to rest. You may even wish to pursue a relationship with Max. He still cares for you in spite of his bravado. All will be as it was before the gift was thrust upon you. The gift you yourself have said you neither sought nor wanted.

How do you propose to work this miracle?

There is a way. I can show you.

And if I refuse your offer?

Chael lifts his shoulders in a gesture of resignation. Then your life becomes a nightmare. All who know you will turn their backs on you. You will be hounded by Harris, who already suspects you are not what you seem. The Revengers will target you. Even your family in France will-

Before he completes the sentence, I attack. He has no time to react; in an eyeblink I have him on the ground, my teeth at his neck. Never threaten my family.

He shudders under the ferocity of my attack. He is wise enough to grow youtill, to resist the urge to fight. His hands are limp at his side, his eyes closed, his mind closes in on itself like petals of a flower fold with the departing sun. He becomes as motionless and devoid of all discernable life as a rock.

I want to make the illusion a reality. What would happen if I were to kill the head of one of the Thirteen Tribes? I run my tongue along the base of his jaw. How would his blood taste? What power does his blood possess? Would I be held accountable even though he broke into my home and threatened my family?

His pulse throbs, his blood sings under a millimeter of skin so delicate, so easily broken. I need only close my jaws, right here, grind my teeth to loose the flow. So easy . . .

Chael opens his mind. If you kill me, you'll never be able to go back. I am the only one who knows the secret.

I draw back, a hairbreadth, my mouth still in reach of the prize. If you have something to say, say it.

Chael releases a breath. I know the way. You think it not possible. You are wrong. I can show you.

You speak in riddles.

Then I'll speak plainly. There is a way for you to become mortal again.

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