Guarda looked around the table slowly, eyeing each of us intently before she spoke. I blessed my dark glasses as she studied me, since they allowed me to present an unintimidated and tranquil expression.

At last she clasped her hands in front of her and addressed the table, her voice picked up by one of the six microphones scattered around the table. Lights clicked on as three women and a man in ARMPIT T-shirts fired up their digital video cameras, all trained on us. "As you probably know, we chose this building because of its unusual spiritual activity. There have been at least six separate entities identified here. Three have already been Summoned. Three remain. Usually we begin the circle by clasping hands and combining our power to bring forth any spirits who might be residing in this building, but as we have two experienced Summoners with us to-night, I believe we will instead work individually. We will start with a supplication to the spirits. If you all will please place your hands flat on the table, your fingers touching those of the person on either side of you, we will begin."

I've always thought the supplication was a bit of nonsense, a silly, showy bit of fluff that impresses the uninformed, but serves no real purpose to Summoners. Still, it was better to just have the tip of my little finger touching Peter's rather than having to hold his entire hand, so I spread my hands out in front of me, joining them with Peter's and Diane's. Guarda went through the supplication while I tried to get a feel for the building we were in, opening myself up to any of the three spirits who remained, I caught a faint impression of one very close, in the theater itself, but no others. I tried to focus on the spirit, but couldn't do more than pinpoint the location to a small room behind the stage.

"As Allegra and Steve are the experienced Summoners, perhaps they would care to take the first circles, and allow the rest of us to watch and learn from them."

It was an order, not a question, with Guarda's pale blue eyes resting on me in something very like a challenge. An odd wave of hostility rose in me in response, an emotion I quickly squelched. There's no room for any negative thoughts when you are trying to Summon a ghost.

Steve, a young man in a black turtleneck and pants who in no way came close to achieving the dashing figure that Christian had made wearing a similar outfit the previous evening, chose to make his circle right there at the table. I was uncomfortable being the focus of so much attention, so I walked over to the dimly lit far side of the stage until I found a spot I liked. I sat down, cleared my mind, ignored the couple of volunteers and two of the camerapeople who'd followed me, and, using my piece of chalk, made a circle.

The actual Summoning procedure was the same as the other times I'd performed it, but this time I had barely spoken the words over the ash when the air in the circle started to thicken and move in an agitated way. I waited, my mind focused on the spirit I'd felt in the back room, willing it to come forward. The shimmering started to die away.

"Oooh," someone directly behind me breathed in disappointment. She was quickly shushed, but the damage had been done. My concentration was broken. I rubbed out a bit of the chalk, breaking the circle, and looked over to where Guarda sat at the table.

"I'm going to give this another shot. I don't need to have absolute silence, but I'd appreciate it if everyone kept from breathing down my neck."

A small woman with a birthmark on her forehead made a grimace. "I'm terribly sorry. It was so exciting there for a minute, I thought you were going to do it. I promise I'll be quiet."

I smiled at her, then glanced out at the audience, but couldn't see anything between the combination of the darkened house and my glasses. I took a deep breath, cleared my mind, drew the circle, made the wards, and intoned the words over the ash.

Bits of it drifted on the currents of air on the stage, some floating to land on a man who sat on the other side of my circle, other bits floating toward me (it always seemed to float straight for my nose). The air started shimmering again, thickening and twisting around itself as if it was trying to form. Suddenly my nose twitched and I sneezed. Twice.

"Wooo-hooo!" The birthmarked woman leaped up and shouted, pointing at my circle. I stared up, stunned by what I saw. Standing in the circle was not one, but two ghosts. One was a small, unhappy-looking young man in black breeches and a dirty cream-colored shirt with a black coat cut in eighteenth-century fashion, wearing a dingy powdered wig; the other was a really ugly old white-haired woman, her face crumpled up like an ancient apple gone bad. She had on a tight, shiny black floor-length dress and apron that emphasized every bulge and protuberance, and there were a lot of protuberances.

"Glory hallelujah," I said softly.

"Amen," someone said behind me. I stood and looked at my ghosts. Two! I'd Summoned two! By... sneezing?

"This is amazing, absolutely amazing," Guarda said as she hurried over to my side, walking around the circle as she examined the ghosts. "I have never seen two spirits Summoned at once. I have never even heard of such a feat! This will go down as a momentous day in the history of psychical studies!"

I rubbed my nose, feeling it tickle again. There was no need to show off and Summon a third spirit.

"You must ground them quickly, so we might take readings and ask them questions." Eduardo pushed his way past a couple of people and eyed the ghosts critically. I got a bit annoyed at that. They were my ghosts; I wasn't going to put them on display for anyone. I didn't mind people taking a few readings, but I was not going to have them treated like freaks at a freak show. I'd Release them just as soon as the readings were taken.

Somewhat reluctantly I grounded them. As soon as the last word left my lips, the old woman started in with a harangue, snaking her finger at me and complaining in an annoyingly scratchy voice.

"What's she saying?" I asked Peter, standing next to me.

He scratched his bald spot. "I'm not sure. I think it's Welsh."

"Welsh? Whatever would a Welshwoman be doing in this building? How old is it, anyway?"

"Approximately two hundred and fifty years old," Eduardo answered as he scooped his hand through the sour old woman. She turned on him and gave him the rough side of her tongue. Although she had no physical presence, just her appearance and demeanor were enough to make him back up a couple of steps.

I stifled a snicker.

"What is your name?" Guarda asked the young man's spirit. I looked closer at him. His face was marked by pimples, and his clothes had a hand-me-down look about them. His powdered wig, once probably white but now stained yellow and rust with age and who knew what, didn't quite fit his head, listing to the left and leaving a swatch of black hair uncovered.

The ghost looked at Guarda with a surly frown and shoved his hands in his breeches pockets. "Don't 'ave to answer."

"Now look here, you - "

"That's right," I interrupted Eduardo and smiled at the ghost. I judged him to be about fifteen. "You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to. I'm here to help you, to Release you from your bondage and send you on. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He stuck out his lip. "Mebbe. Mebbe not. Who're you lot?"

I introduced the few people I knew names for, and explained that we'd like to take a few readings, and then would be happy to send both him and the old woman on.

"A moment of your time, if you please, Allegra," Guarda said as she pulled me aside, away from the cameras. "This is a very exciting and important moment in the history of paranormal research. While I applaud your intention to Release the spirits to their reward, I feel that much good can come of a continuing, ongoing study of them. Just think of the research grants that will be available to us if we are able to show sponsors actual proof of spirit entities!"

"But at what cost to the ghosts themselves?" I asked. "As a Summoner, it is my job to Release them just as soon as adequate readings have been taken. Keeping them hanging around indefinitely while a bunch of corporate sponsors stare at them is hardly my idea of a worthy reason not to allow them to move on."

"Think of the research you and others will be able to do," Guarda said smoothly. "Based on your expertise, I am most happy to offer you a position on the trust team. There is a generous honorarium, of course, and you will find yourself working with the keenest minds in paranormal research. In addition, think of the fame you'll achieve as you write definitive paper after paper on every aspect of the spirits' life after death. You'll be famous both in and out of paranormal circles! There will be books, television shows, lecture tours, sponsorships - all of that will be yours, and for only the highest and purest of reasons: research. You can see why it is more important that we resist our natural inclination to Release the spirits, and instead use this unique opportunity to gain as much knowledge as we can from them."

"Um," I said, not wanting her to realize that with every oily word she spoke, I became more and more sure something was extremely rotten in Denmark. I slipped my hand into my pocket and felt around for what I had in there that could be used as a keeper. There were only a few coins, and somehow I had a hard time imagining binding a spirit to a coin. A couple more bobbles would have to be sacrificed.

The question was how I was going to create two keepers without someone noticing what I was doing.

"I knew you would see reason on this," Guarda said suavely as she turned back to the ghosts. The old woman had stomped away and plumped herself down in a chair, and was glaring at everyone. The young man was staring openly at one of the ARMPITs who had a spiky hairdo, a pierced eyebrow, and tattoos covering both forearms.

"Just a second - what happened to the other three ghosts that were Summoned? Are they being studied now, too?"

Guarda smiled and patted me on the hand. "One is, yes. The other two, unfortunately, were lost to us."

"Lost to you?" The only way a Summoned spirit could be freed was if the Summoner Released them... or if the Summoner died. "Lost how?"

"It was an unfortunate accident; it won't happen again, I can assure you," she answered before turning back to the circle. "And now, please, everyone, if you would stay back, the trust members will take some preliminary readings."

"I haven't completed my circle," the Summoner named Steve whined.

"Yes, yes, you must do that, there is one spirit left unaccounted for," Eduardo said.

I decided I needed a distraction to make the keepers, but before I could do that, I had to find out my ghosts' names. Names, as I've mentioned, have power, and I didn't blame them for not wanting to let everyone know their names. As I was their Summoner, however, they were obligated to answer any questions I put to them. I moved back until I was in the darkest part of the stage (several of the stagelights had been turned on as soon as my ghosts appeared) and locked my eyes on the old woman. I focused on her, opening a tiny part of my mind to her and asked softly, "What is your name?"

Her head turned to look over to where I was standing. Her mouth moved. "Alis Owens."

Guarda looked over to her with a frown. I crossed my fingers that she hadn't heard what the old woman had said.

I looked at the teenage ghost, focused, waited until he turned his back on one of the camerapeople who'd rudely shoved her camera in his face, and asked my question.

"Jem Hopkins."

Guarda heard him; I'm sure she did. She oiled over to Eduardo and tipped her head toward him, speaking urgently and shooting occasional glances my way.

Rats. I'd have to act quickly, before it was too late. I moved out to the front of the stage, then pushed a hand away from me and swayed, moaning soft little moans and trying my best to look like someone who was about to pass out.

"Christian?" I mumbled pitifully. Several of the volunteers turned toward me, but Christian could move very fast when he wanted to. He was there in an instant, one arm draped around my back to support me. I swayed into his chest.

"I just feel a bit faint. All that power used Summoning," I said weakly into his neck, thoroughly enjoying being held against his body. I couldn't help breathing in the faint spicy scent that clung to him, a scent that seemed to permeate me and sink into my blood.

Christian repeated my words to the people who had come to see what was wrong with me. Someone pulled a chair over for me, but I shook my head and remained clinging to Christian. He brushed his lips against my forehead.

What is it you want, maly v¨¢le¨¨n¨ªk?

I stiffened in his arms as I quickly checked the guards on my mind. They were all in place, all solid and firmly set up against intruder, and yet Christian had managed to slip by them and speak to me.

I ground my teeth for a moment before deciding there was nothing to be done at the moment about the breach in my mental security. I'd have a little chat with Christian later. Right now...

I need you to distract them while I make keepers, I said without lowering my guards, wondering if he would hear me.

It will be my pleasure, he answered with a warm chuckle.

A sudden loud crash at the back of the theater made everyone, including me (but excluding Christian), jump.

"You could have warned me," I grumbled to him.

"Poltergeist!" someone shouted, and a half dozen people went running for the back regions of the theater. Christian turned us so his body was shielding me from the remaining people's view, allowing me to tug two more bobbles off my sweater and covertly turn them into keepers.

I'm going to faint, I thought at Christian. Lack of consciousness is the only way I could lose the spirits and still remain alive. I'd appreciate it if you could catch me in a suitably dramatic manner, and raise a fuss about me doing any more Summoning tonight.

I could hear the amusement in his words. Can it be that you will now find it useful to have a domineering and forceful man in your life? One who will give orders and demand everyone follow them?

"There's nothing back there!" one of the ARMPITs appeared at the stage and announced with a dramatic wave of his arm. "Nothing at all! It's absolutely clean!"

I used that moment when everyone's attention was on him to bind Alis's and Jem's spirits to my keepers, quickly tucking them away in my pants pocket.

Listen, bucko, you're in enough trouble for being able to get past my guards. If I were you, I'd just do as you're asked and keep the wisecracking to a minimum. Now catch me; I'm going to swoon.

I took a few tottering steps away from Christian, put the back of my hand to my forehead in the best fainting-woman manner, blinked rapidly, swayed, and let myself fall forward. Strong arms caught me before I hit the floor, cradling me to an equally strong chest as Christian's eloquent voice spoke over my head, thick with concern and worry. "Allegra has fainted! It must be the stress of the double Summoning. Quickly, does anyone have water?"

This is ridiculous.

You wished me to be forceful and demanding. I simply complied with your wishes.

I did not wish for you to insist on bringing me to your house. Nor did I wish for you to tell everyone that cock-and-bull story about us being engaged. What on earth were you thinking?

Guarda White was being obstinate about releasing her most promising team member to a mere acquaintance. I felt a more intimate relationship between the two of us would ensure that you remained in my protection.

Yeah, right. Why do I have the feeling you're enjoying all this?

His laughter echoed through my mind. I have a beautiful woman in my arms, and am taking her back to my home, where she and I will be alone and able to indulge whatever fantasies we choose. What is there not to enjoy?

I had a horrible sense of control slipping through my fingers, and did a double check of all the protective barriers I'd set up to keep my mind from being invaded. Everything looked solid.

You know I would never do anything to harm you.

"I believe she is coming around. She's making odd snorting noises. Perhaps if you removed her glasses, Mr. Dante, she would be more comfortable."

"Allegra has sensitive eyes. Bright lights make her uncomfortable. She will be more comfortable with them on."

Christian's breath teased my ear. I turned my head into his neck briefly. I don't know what sort of cologne you wear, but it has my full approval.

His laughter filled my mind again.

"Yes, she's definitely coming around. She's smiling. Can you see?"

Cool air wafted over my cheeks. I decided my faint had lasted about as long as I could reasonably drag it out, and started fluttering my eyelids.

"Oh, my, I feel so woozy, so weak. Did I faint?"

You are a terrible actress.

Shut. Up.

I pushed my glasses up from where they'd slipped down my nose, but didn't struggle to get free from where I was slumped against Christian. "Mrs. White? What happened? Why are we in Christian's car?"

"Your fianc¨¦ is taking you home. I was worried about your health, and offered to accompany him, just to satisfy my mind that you have suffered no lasting damage from your experience."

The light in Christian's car - a sleek black luxury model that came equipped with a driver named Philspott - was bright enough for me to make out the calculating gleam in Guarda's eyes.

I leaned back against Christian and passed a wan hand over my cheeks. "Oh, how very thoughtful of you, but I'm sure you have much better things to do with your valuable time."

"Not at all." She smiled in a manner that couldn't help but remind me of a shark. "You are part of my elite team now. No matter is too trivial for me when it concerns you."

What a far from reassuring thought. I managed a weak smile in return.

Guarda leaned forward and pressed my hand. I fought the urge to slide it away from her cold touch. "Your fianc¨¦ believes the double Summoning was too much for you. Do you remember anything about what happened before you fainted?"

I made a face as if I were seriously considering the matter. "No, there was just the weakness, and then suddenly I felt myself sliding down into a dark miasma of unconsciousness."

We will have to make sure you take acting lessons before your next performance.

Have you ever had an elbow in your kidney? I'm told it's quite painful.

She made a little moue of unhappiness. "Unfortunately, your loss of consciousness returned the spirits you'd Summoned to their spirit state."

"Aw, that is too bad."

Beneath my arm, Christian pinched me.

"That is to say, I'm so very, very sorry that I passed out when I did. I will be more than happy to return to the theater tomorrow and try again."

"Alas, I fear you will do yourself further harm if you attempt such a thing without a suitable resting period, my beloved."

I stiffened at the word. Have you gone mad?

There was no capital B in that sentence.

I relaxed again.

"Perhaps you are right, snuggle-bunny. Perhaps a day or two of rest will recharge my mental batteries. I'm sure Mrs. White wouldn't wish for me to blow out anything in my brain because I was trying too hard."

Snuggle-bunny ?

"No, of course not." Guarda looked uncomfortably aware that I had her in a position in which she would rather not have found herself. Ostensibly along to make sure I was taken care of, she couldn't possibly demand that I go back to work right away. I planned on using the couple of days' grace to do a little investigating into just what ARMPIT was up to.

If you promise never to refer to me as a snuggle-bunny again, I will allow you to investigate with me.

Allow? Allow?

It is a dangerous undertaking. I cannot allow you to put your life in jeopardy for my friend.

Allow, Christian?

His sigh brushed my mind. I will withdraw the word if you promise not to pursue any investigations without me.

I thought about it, and decided that he could be of help investigating. Deal.

The car bumped into a small building that served as Christian's garage. He had mentioned to me earlier, on the way to dinner, that the only time he kept a driver was in London. He said something about the annoying lack of available parking. It seems Dark Ones have issues with parking lots. He helped me out of the car with a solicitous arm, Guarda following behind as we crossed the small alley separating the garage and his house. I looked up to the top of the three-story building.

Big house for just one guy.

I require both space and privacy in my living quarters.

Don't worry; you'll have both just as soon as Guarda leaves and I can slip back to my hotel.

There are always exceptions to be made in times of necessity.

I glanced over at him as he held the door open for me, wondering if he meant what I thought he'd meant.

I refused to be swept up in his arms and carried up the stairs to the bedroom. "No, lamby-pot-pie, it's much better if I walk. Slowly. It serves to settle my nerves."

You realize, of course, that lamby-pot-pie constitutes a declaration of war.

I gave him a mental snort, just to see if I could do it. Evidently I could.

"As you desire, most beauteous of all lotus blossoms. If you will take my arm, I will allow your nerves to settle and yet reassure both myself and Mrs. White that you will not come to any harm in your journey up the stairs."

Have you ever thought of going into politics? You're a natural.

Guarda followed us into a huge room done all in shades of sapphire and midnight. A massive curtained and canopied bed dominated the room, drawing the eye and refusing to release it. I stood stupidly and blinked at it a few minutes, wondering if it felt as heavenly as it looked.

Perhaps you will find out for yourself. Christian's voice danced in my head.

I ignored him and tottered over to sink down in a blue silk-draped armchair. "Thank you so much for accompanying us home, Mrs. White. I feel much better just being out of that building. I'm so very excited about the plans you have for the trust. Might I pop in for a visit tomorrow and have a chat about what you see for the future, and how I might fit into it?"

Guarda's smile didn't even come close to reaching her icy blue eyes. "Of course. There is nothing I would like more. Just give me a ring at that number, and my secretary will set up a time." She handed me a card. I smiled at her. Christian raised an eyebrow. She looked as if she wanted to say something further, but realized that to do so wouldn't be in keeping with her pretended concern. "Well, then, I shall leave you alone so you might rest."

"You may be assured that I will see to it that my little kumquat spends the entire night in bed," Christian said with a smoothness that put the silk bed hangings to shame.

You and what army?

"Oh, you silly Mr. Fuzzy-wuzzy," I chirped in return, making myself faintly nauseated in the process.

Guarda looked between the two of us, then nodded her head and allowed Christian to escort her out of the room and, I assumed, the house.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, I leaped out of the chair and commenced pacing and hand wringing, ignoring the great behemoth bed and all that it represented. Christian, I knew, was planning a seduction. It was in every warm caress of his mind against mine, every touch of his body to mine, every sultry-eyed, heated glance. What was worse was that after the kiss that ended with me almost sucking the tongue from his head, I could no longer trust myself to stay calm and cool, as I had been with every other man. Somehow more than just my mental guards failed me when it came to Christian. All my honorable intentions, all my determination never again to let a man have any part of me, just seemed to evaporate under of the influence of those dark, tortured eyes.

The solution to my problem, I decided a few moments later, was to not let myself be alone with him. If he did what I expected him to do - insisted I remain in his house for the evening - I was in grave danger of succumbing to the siren lure of his desire. Therefore, I simply wouldn't put myself in a position where temptation could raise its ugly head.

By the time Christian returned to his room, I was talking with Jem while trying to keep an eye on Alis.

"So you were a waiter in a restaurant? How very interesting. Did you enjoy your job?"

"Not likely," the sullen teenager snapped. "Why'd that man at t'other place 'ave bits an' bobs stabbed through 'is face, then? Was 'e wiv one o' them travelin' shows?"

I smiled brightly at Christian's frown before turning back to the ghost. "You mean the man in the black T-shirt with his eyebrow and nose pierced? That is a fashion common today amongst young people, particularly young people who are rebelling against conformity and society."

Jem didn't look like he believed me. I smiled again. "In other words, he was thumbing his nose at everyone in authority."

"Oh, aye." He nodded, and his spotty face lost a bit of its sullenness as he thought this over.

Christian strolled over to me with the grace of a panther who has spotted a particularly succulent bit of prey.

A comparison more apropos than you know, maly v¨¢le¨¨n¨ªk.

I ignored his silky voice in my head as I turned to him. "You don't happen to speak Welsh, do you? Alis seems to be rather uncommunicative, and refuses to answer me when I try to ask her if she'd like to be Released. I think she's trying to summon enough psychic energy to push over that blue-and-white vase. She seems to be particularly angry at it."

Christian paused long enough to cast a quick glance over to where the squat little woman was standing with her hands on her plentiful hips, nose to rim with a Chinese vase. His eyes turned back to me, and he started forward with a look that raised every hair on my neck.

"No, I do not speak Welsh. Do your inhibitions regarding voyeurism include spirits?"

I started backing up and nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, they do. So if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you can think again. You couldn't possibly wish to damage my psyche by kissing me or... or... anything else in front of them. I'd never forgive you."

"Then I advise you to bind them to your keepers in the next thirty seconds."

"Ye don't 'ave to do nuffin' for me. I'm goin' t' 'ave me a look around town an' see 'ow it's changed." With those words, Jem stuck his head through the wall so he could see the street below.

I looked from him to Christian, then made a break for the door, but he moved faster than I could see and had me pinned up against the wall before I could blink. He looked deep into my eyes and let me see every emotion he was feeling at that moment. Then he slipped into my head and fed me images of exactly what he was planning to do.

To me.

All evening.

My knees buckled. "Christian, I can't, really I can't. That's not to say I don't want to, although part of me thinks it's really a bad idea because there's no future for us, and I will admit the rest of me is in the agreeable camp, but I can't."

Jem sniggered. I glared at him until he stuck his head through the wall again. Alis ignored us and started screaming at the vase.

"You can." Christian's eyes were hot enough to steam drapes. I swallowed hard and tried to remember why I couldn't give in to the demands of my body. Control, that was it. I couldn't give up control. Not even for what promised to be a night of extreme, never-ending pleasure would I give that up.

If we can do this without your giving up control, will you allow me to love you?

His breath was on my lips as he pressed me against the wall, his body hard and aggressive and, if the pressure against my groin was anything to go by, extremely aroused. Could I share myself if it meant I didn't give up control?

Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes! screamed my body.

He's a man, and all men are fiends, shouted the wounded part of my mind.

It came down to whether or not I trusted him. Would he respect my needs and not strip control from me, or would he lose himself in the endless desire I felt stirring him, blinding him to his promise?

I stared into his eyes, a heated, burning red-brown, and hesitated. Christian was absolutely still, not touching me with his mind, his body solid and warm, but undemanding against me. He was letting me make the choice unswayed by lust and desire and all of the other erotic emotions I knew he could rouse with just the merest touch of his lips.

Could I trust him? I'd never trusted another man. Was he so different that I could trust him?

I took a deep, admittedly shaky breath, ignoring the delightful sensation of my breasts pressed up against his chest. "If you can promise me you won't try to control me, then yes, I would like to see just how comfortable your bed is."

Jem, watching us with a sneer universal to teenagers throughout the ages, snorted and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Alis flung herself into the middle of the vase and jumped up and down.

We ignored them both.

A slow, seductive smile curled Christian's lips. I will never ask you to do anything against your desire. If you are uncomfortable with anything we do, you simply need ask me to stop and I will. That I promise you.

My body sent up a silent cheer of victory as I slipped out of Christian's embrace and gathered up the two keepers. "Jem, Alis, time to go nighty-night. I'm going to be..." I glanced over my shoulder at Christian. The look in his eyes made my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. "Busy for a bit," I croaked.

Christian smiled as the ghosts shimmered, then disappeared, his smile turning positively wicked as he stalked toward me.

You, my sweet, passionate innocent, are going to be busy for a very... long... time.

"Gark," I said, and meant it.

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