Kira was trapped in a roaring inferno. She could hear the booming crashes of her apartment building coll apsing around her, feel the agony of the flames as they ravaged her body, and she prayed for death to end the pain. And then death came, washing over her burned, broken body with sweet relief, easing the torment that seared her from the inside out. Cool, languid nothingness enveloped her, cocooning her from the fire that still raged around her.

She had to be dead, because the pain was gone, but oddly enough, Kira could still hear the crashing of her building and smell the fumes from the fire. What a strange thing, for her to so acutely hear and smell even though she was dead. Furthermore, she also could taste something incredible. Something so rich and succulent, it made even the sounds and smells fade into obscurity. She needed more of that, whatever it was. Yes.

More . . .

Then that amazing nectar was gone, and lights smashed over Kira's gaze. The roaring of the coll apsing building was back along with the choking fumes of gas that must have started the blaze, but something else was here, too. Kira whimpered. She must not be dead yet. Not yet, so any second, she'd feel the horror of her flesh being burned off her body again . . .

"Kira. "

Her name was an anchor that dragged her mind forward into reality. Suddenly, she saw Mencheres's face right in front of her, his eyes like black diamonds and his skin as perfect as colored crystal. She wasn't trapped in an apartment blaze. Something else had happened.

Mencheres . He had killed her . . . and brought her back.

That booming went off behind her again, the scent of gas rising above the darker, sweeter smell that was all around her. Kira tried to run from whatever had made such a horrible blasting sound, but Mencheres pressed her down. A jolt went through her as soon as his hands touched her skin. It felt like his entire body was electrified and shooting currents right into her.

"It is just the plane's engines, Kira. You are in no danger."

That blasting went off again, so loud and grinding, it couldn't be airplane engines. Kira looked around, but everything slid together in a blur until Mencheres grasped her chin and forced her to look only at him.

"Stay still. You have not adjusted to your new senses yet. They will feel overwhelming, but you will soon become accustomed to them."

Your new senses. Amidst the sizzling voltage that seared into her from Mencheres's hands, the crashing sounds around her, that oily-potent mixture of scents, and the flashes of light that seemed to burn her eyes, Kira's mind was seized with one single, unbelievable thought: She was no longer human.

"I'm . . . you . . . I'm not . . ."

She couldn't say it out loud. Shock blasted through her when she realized that though she'd used air to speak, she wasn't breathing. Almost blindly, her hand reached out to feel her neck. Nothing but smooth still ness beneath her fingers where her pulse should have been.

I'm a vampire.

Mencheres said nothing, his hand still cupping her face. Only then did her vision quit sliding enough to notice the rest of him. He was still wearing the same shirt from when she'd last seen him, but now, it had large red splotches on the front of it.

Was that her blood? And Radje . . . was the evil, smirking vampire who'd ordered her murder here, too? Kira's gaze swung around, but once again, everything started to blur together.

"Something's wrong with my eyes . . . who else is here?" she asked, panic starting to rise.

"No one but I, Gorgon, and the pilot are on this plane. As I said, you are safe." Safe? Kira fought back a hysterical laugh. She supposed she was safe since she was already dead.

Mencheres sat in front of her, his dark gaze somber, one hand on her shoulder while the other cupped her face. She blinked, noting that he looked more - vivid. The striking planes of his face were more sharply defined, highlights of rust made Mencheres's hair a richer shade of black, his eyes were tinted with the faintest flecks of silver, and his skin

. . . his skin was like sand in the sunshine, a gold-and-cream mixture that felt electrified with the power sparking from him.

More than beautiful - magnificent. Mencheres, her killer. Her savior. It was too much for Kira to process.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, looking away.

His hands dropped. A sense of regret slivered along her emotions, gone so fast, Kira wasn't sure if she felt it or if it had been a hallucination, like the apartment inferno had.

That blasting kept going off all around them. She glanced to the side, things swinging less in her vision this time, to see that they were indeed on a small plane. A glance down revealed that Mencheres wasn't the only one with red splashed on the front of him. This wasn't the outfit she'd, ah, died in, but it was still covered in something purplish that smelled like liquid cotton candy.

Kira sniffed without thinking about it, her nose almost exploding at the rush of scents, too many to distinguish. Above all was the heady, addictive aroma coming from the red stains on her shirt. She'd grasped it and stuffed the material in her mouth before her next coherent thought, whimpering at the intense pain that flared through her chest.

Then something wonderful poured down her throat. Rich, intoxicating, vibrant, necessary, it cooled that instant flash of agony, soothing her from the inside out. She hadn't even been aware of closing her eyes until a smash of light and motion replaced the momentary peaceful blankness of her vision.

"What is wrong with me?" Kira managed to ask, trying to stop the crazy tilting when she glanced around.

Mencheres's features swam before they crystal ized in the next moment. He was above her, his hair falling down around him in a dark curtain. If she was right, the hard, shaking flatness at her back was the plane's floor. Had she fall en down? She didn't remember doing that. Something wet coated her face and her mouth. Unable to stop herself, Kira licked it. A shudder of pleasure rippled through her, almost as intense as an orgasm. What was that?

"You are in the midst of the blood craze." His voice caressed her ears, making her shudder again. The sounds, sights, scents, tastes, textures . . . it was all too much. She felt like she was about to explode right out of her skin.

"It will lessen," Mencheres continued. Kira found herself arching toward his voice, as if it could physically touch her with the same effect that it stroked along her senses. "Until then, I cannot let you free. You would kill, Kira, and you would regret it."

"No . . ." she moaned, closing her eyes. This isn't real. Isn't real.

More bliss poured down her throat in the next moment, heavier than water, sweeter than syrup. She gulped, her back arching again, seeking to get closer to whatever the source was even though she couldn't move her hands to grab it.

"I will care for you," that silken, deep voice promised. "I will see you through this." Isn't real, isn't real, isn't real, Kira continued to chant in her mind. Nothing this intense could be real.

And through the exploding sounds of the engines, the vibrations from the floor, that rush of pain and bliss ebbing and cresting within her, the liquid ecstasy streaming down her throat, and the shocks she felt each time Mencheres touched her, she heard his voice again.

"Forgive me."

Mencheres watched Kira's face as he lay next to her in bed. She hadn't stirred since dawn. The first rays of sunlight had caused her to fall deeply asleep, as it did to all new vampires. Her sleeping made it easier during their time in the human-laden areas, such as the private airport his plane landed in and the cars alongside him on the drive to his house in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Mencheres had chosen this location with care. His nearest neighbors were at least a mile away in every direction, and Gorgon had attended to the immediate relocation of the humans staying there once they arrived.

Fewer sounds, temptations, and restrictions near Kira was best as she dealt with her new condition.

Though it would still be hard on her. Normally, humans who were chosen to become vampires went through an extended period where they imbibed vampire blood in ever-increasing quantities. It gave them a glimpse of what their new hunger, senses, and increased strength would feel like, making the final change less of a shock. Kira had had no such preparation. Everything would be overwhelming to her at first.

And she had not chosen this transition of her own free will. That would be the greatest obstacle for her to overcome. Still, Mencheres knew he could not have acted differently. If it was a choice between Kira's death or her despising him, he would always choose to be the object of her hatred rather than the instrument of her permanent destruction.

Gravel churning on the driveway announced that Gorgon was back. Mencheres felt a twinge of relief. Kira had drunk almost all the blood bags he'd hastily stolen from a hospital on their way from the strip club to his plane. Animal blood would suffice in desperate circumstances, but he suspected that if Kira roused from her sleep to find herself feeding from a dead deer, she'd harbor even more resentment toward him.

"She awake yet?" Gorgon called out as soon as he entered the house.

"Not yet." Mencheres glanced at the ebbing rays of the sun straining through the crack in the drapes. She would rise soon. By nightfal at the latest.

Gorgon came into the bedroom carrying a Styrofoam cooler that he set on the floor.

"This should last until dawn. I'll go back out to get more. Not a lot of hospitals around here, and I'd feel bad if I took their entire supply."

As would Mencheres, though again, the lengths he'd go to protect Kira superseded his concern for the trouble that might cause some unknown mortals.

"Secure fresh blood as well. Fly in some of my property to nearby hotels if need be."

"I will." Gorgon cast a glance at Kira's sleeping form. Mencheres had bathed and re-dressed her again, covering her with the thick quilt over that. It wasn't uncommon for new vampires to feel inexplicably cold as they adjusted to their altered body temperature, and even in spring, it was cooler at this higher altitude than it had been in Chicago.

"The Guardian was right. You do feel something unusual for her. When you're around her, your scent changes, and your shielding slips more than I've ever seen it do," Gorgon said quietly.

Mencheres pulled his emotions back inside the wall that cut off the other vampire's ability to sense them. "After what I've done to her, I would think it matters not."

"You had no choice. Once Kira accepts that and adjusts to being a vampire, she'll stop being angry at you." Then Gorgon smiled. "Though it might be fun to watch in the meantime. You've never had to work to seduce a woman before, have you?" In fact, Mencheres had not previously needed to entice a woman into his bed with sweetened words or passionate pursuit. "Even if I had, considering my long state of celibacy, it would make me very out of practice, to use a contemporary phrase," he noted dryly.

Gorgon laughed. "Like riding a bike, some things you never forget." Mencheres wished the only obstacle between him and Kira was the challenge of winning her. If that were so, he would relish the opportunity to gain her trust, affection, body, and - gods willing - her heart. But once again, that black void in his future was the true obstacle.

"I have larger concerns at present," was all Mencheres said.

Gorgon's smile faded. "Radjedef."

Mencheres sighed, closing his eyes. "I know what he wants, and I must ensure he does not find a way to force me to give it to him."

"You need to tell Bones."

His eyes snapped open. "No. And you will swear to me that you will not." Gorgon looked dismayed, but he nodded. "If you insist. He's going to hear about Kira, though. I bet those three vampires at the club have already burned up the text-messaging and phone lines talking about it."

No doubt Flare, Patches, and Wraith had told others of the events last evening, but Mencheres wasn't concerned with Bones learning about Kira. He would have known of her importance to him as soon as he opened the Legacy envelope Mencheres left him.

Now the only difference was that Bones would hear of Kira before that, but it was imperative that he not learn of Radjedef's increased hostility. Cat had only recently escaped a brush with death from one of the Law Guardians herself. Neither she nor Bones could risk angering another Guardian for a long, long time if they wished to stay alive.

Moreover, this fight with Radjedef had been brewing long before Bones was even born. Mencheres had no intention of letting his co-ruler fight this battle for him. It was his to win.

The currents in the room shifted and began to concentrate over the bed. Mencheres glanced at Gorgon, who wordlessly got out a bag of blood from the cooler.

He picked Kira up with one hand and took the bagged blood from Gorgon with the other, heading for the bathroom. Waking in a blood-soaked bed would do little to all eviate Kira's stress at being a new vampire.

Then again, waking in a blood-soaked bathroom probably wouldn't cause her to fare much better, but it was easier to clean tile than carpet and sheets, at least.

"You want me to wait, or leave now to round up more blood?" Gorgon asked.

Mencheres gave another glance at Kira, who was starting to twitch - the precursor to her roaring into awareness with a burning, mindless hunger.

"You may leave. I'll care for her."

And he would, during whatever time he had left.

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