The smell of the roasting flesh was ghastly.

Even to a Viking, Hagan told him woefully.

By nightfall, Peter insisted they all go into the church. Hagan agreed. Norsemen did not fear the dark, he assured Peter, but his men were worn. The church afforded the best center of defense, with the spiked wall they had built circling around it.

Hours passed. The surviving women had gathered what food and water they could. The chieftain’s daughter came to Ragnor’s guard post by a window, standing by him as he looked out on the moonlit night.

“Hagan says another man will take watch. You are to eat,” she told him. “Come, I have food for you.” She led him to a corner where the hard wooden benches had been drawn together, creating an awkward table.

He ate, wolfing down his food, then looking at her. “Have I taken your share?”

“If you had, you would have been welcome. I am in your service ... though, of course, your kind take what you will.”

He sat back. “My kind?”

She shrugged. “Vikings.”

“Ah. Vikings.”

She lowered her head for a moment, then stared at him again, smiling ruefully. “All right. Perhaps it is not just Vikings.”

“Oh?”

“Men. Men always take what they will, and leave behind ... devastation.”

“Did you see these men, these dark enemies, come in the night?” She looked away from him.

“I’ve seen nothing. I came here and hid under the altar, as my father said. We knew that they were coming, by darkness. Most of the men went out to fight. You saw what befell them. Some of the women and children made it to the church. Most did not.”

“I didn’t see you when we met with your father and the others,” he told her. “I didn’t know the chieftain had a daughter. What is your name?”

She looked at him, hazel eyes brilliant.

“Nari,” she told him. “My name is Nari.” And she slid her hand into his hand, entwining her fingers with his.

CHAPTER 14

Cindy was sleeping soundly. It was a wonderful, dreamless sleep. She might have been dead to the world.

She was wakened by her husband’s touch.

She groaned softly.

His whisper was against her ear. His hands were moving.

“Want me to stop?”

Yes! she almost screamed aloud.

But she didn’t. She loved his attention; she was just so exhausted. But though she had been afraid to admit it, she had wondered about her husband’s fidelity, and she had felt terribly jealous of the contessa, though she had determined all along that it wouldn’t show. At first, of course, she had denied it to herself.

She still tried to believe she was wrong. She had fallen in love with Jared as a teenager, and in all their years together, she had never lost the depth of her feelings for him. And lately ...

It was almost as if they were kids again.

She gathered what energy she could, turning against him, stroking his cheek. “Never stop; I love you,” she told him.

His energy seemed to mock her exhaustion. She told him softly, “I’m sorry, I’m just so, so tired ...”

“That’s all right” He sounded like the same old teasing Jared. “I’ve got the hots for two, babe.” He did. She didn’t need to move. And he was so fevered and volatile she felt herself carried along.

But then he grew rough, which sometimes had been fine, but tonight...

He found what he needed; she would have to admit that she did too. But even as they drifted, he was kissing her again, a rough touch, teeth ...

“Jared!” she found the anger and energy to stop him. “Jared, God I love you, but I don’t understand this, you’re hurting me.”

A moment later, he was up. She saw him standing at the open window.

Now she was in pain and freezing.

“Jared, please!” she whispered.

He closed the window. She didn’t feel him come back beside her.

It seemed to take every bit of energy she had to rise enough to reach the bedside lamp and turn it on.

Jared was gone.

Jordan slept so very well, deeply, dreamlessly, aware of the warmth and the touch of the man beside her. This was probably one of the reasons people married these days, she reflected, amused. Falling asleep beside someone this way. Resting and knowing he was beside you. A duo against the night, against the world. Someone to whom to say goodnight, and greet in the morning. This kind of feeling didn’t come that often. And perhaps, it was the reason marriages fell apart, when the problems of the day intruded into the night, and there was no longer this wonderful feeling of just sleeping together.

As the night went on, she knew that he was there. Just before dawn, when the pale streaks of the sun were nothing more than a tease in the sky, he was still beside her.

Not much later, she turned for a more comfortable position. Now, the rays of dawn were just twisting their way through lattices and draperies, causing pastel whispers in the dark, and displaying the motes that danced within them.

Ragnor was no longer with her.

She rose, walking to the bathroom. “Ragnor?” she murmured, but there was no answer from him.

Suddenly feeling a chill, she walked around the room, turning on all the lights. The room was empty. She checked the door. It was locked.

Perplexed, she sat at the foot of her bed. She should go back to sleep. It was ridiculously early.

She couldn’t sleep, so she rose, and took a long shower. She dressed and noted her books on the desk. She shouldn’t read anymore; reading just gave her crazy thoughts.

She went and picked up the book by the cop, plumped her pillows, and started to read again, flicking through sections she had read, noting the structure of the book. Things that had happened in history came first, some of the examples of absolute intolerance, such as the witchcraft burnings in Europe and the hangings in Salem. There was a case of savage murders that had occurred in France which had received little attention due to the horror already prevalent as thousands went to the guillotine. However, when one man, Comte d’Alargon, met his fate at the blade, the murders, begun so suddenly and savagely, just as quickly ceased.

The historical moved into the more modern, and it was after a study of “modern” vampires and vampire cults that the cop stressed the section on the psychology of dealing with “vampires.” Jordan chewed her lip while reading that section, then suddenly flew out of bed. She dropped the book, grabbed her key and her purse, and left the hotel.

It was a bright, cool, but beautiful day. She wandered along the rivas and calles she had walked the night before. People were out and about; they walked dogs, shopped, hurried here and there to work. At a cafe, she paused for a cafe latte and a roll, then continued down the street She paused in a religious shop and bought a number of crucifixes, small and large, and splurged on a beautiful inlaid silver cross pendant, and waited while the chain was adjusted for her. Her next stop was a little shop where they sold blown glass vials, and she went on to the first campo she could find and the charming little church that sat within it. Luckily, there were only a few tourists present; she still couldn’t help but look around her as she filled her newly bought vials with holy water.

Her last shop was a pleasant open-air market where she bought bananas, apples, grapes?and strings of garlic.

Returning to her room, she decorated the windows with garlic. The maid had already been in, so for the day at least, her strange decoration would stand. She dripped some of the holy water on the window sills, praying. Perhaps they weren’t really the usual prayers for what she was doing, for she whispered aloud, “Dear God, please don’t let me be totally out of my mind.” She set the vials in clear view on her desk, grateful that this was a Roman Catholic country, and Italians were accustomed to rosaries and crosses, statues and more.

With all of that done, she went down to the concierge and asked him to call the police station for her.

Roberto Capo had yet to come in.

Next, she asked him to dial Tiff Henley, but though Tiff had left a personal message on the answering machine of her rented palazzo, Tiff herself did not come to the phone.

She thanked him, and would have taken coffee up to her room, but she saw Cindy then, sitting in the lobby.

To her amazement, Cindy, who eschewed sunglasses on the hottest days in South Carolina, had on a pair of dark glasses.

Jordan walked over to her cousin-in-law. “Cindy?”

“Jordan! Great. Want coffee?”

“Sure.”

She sat down in the big, comfortable wing chair opposite the sofa where Cindy sat, staring at her.

“Something to eat?” Cindy said. “There’s the nicest young waiter down here. He’s earning money to spend a semester in the United States. He’s an International Relations major.”

“I had something earlier,” Jordan said, “but coffee sounds great.” The waiter came by, a handsome young man with dark eyes and honey-colored hair. Cindy introduced them, and they talked for a few minutes about travel, the States, and where he was going in America.

There were three places he really wanted to study: New York, L.A. and Miami. She suggested that he should visit Kansas as well, to get a better feel for the middle of the country.

A moment later, he brought their coffee. When he had left, Jordan leaned forward. “What’s with the shades?”

“Oh!” Cindy took off her glasses. There were dark circles under her eyes. “I just?I just look like shit! So

. ..”

“Cindy, you’ve got to see a doctor.”

“We’re due to go back to the States in a week?”

“They have excellent medical care in Venice. I don’t know everything that Jared does, but I’ve read up on the place?”

“Oh, I know the doctors are good; I just really don’t think that anything is wrong.” Jordan arched a brow.

Cindy shrugged. “Late hours. Really late hours.”

Jordan sat back. “Jared is that much of an animal?”

Cindy flushed. “It’s almost as if we’re on some kind of a second honeymoon. I’m elated, of course. You know that I’ve loved Jared forever and ever?”