Her pink mouth curved in a shy smile. "It did feel...magical."

He bent his head, snuggling against her warmth. "I understand the power of it-listening to you and Swift finding pleasure. G.o.d, I can't explain it. All I could think of was giving you pleasure, and I wanted Swift to come. I wanted to see him explode." Christ, he didn't want to think about what it meant about him that he'd enjoyed another man's pleasure.

Serena held the top of his coat, pulling it up beneath her chin, and his heart broke. The more their intimacy grew, the more he knew he couldn't share her.

She gave another wide yawn, and even that told Jonathon how close they'd become.

"I wish Althea had told me more," she murmured. "She told me I must find out for myself exactly what my destiny is, how our love is to make us powerful..."

Jonathon pressed his hand against her silky cheek as her lids fluttered shut. He would give anything to protect her. But did that include sharing her with a vampire?

Drake soared over the rabbit warren of his world. Around him the sky deepened to the color of black pearls. He swooped down, marveling at the power, at the freedom.

With a beat of his wings, Drake propelled his transformed body faster. Thick soot hung in the air here, obscuring the waning moonlight.

Serena...just at the thought of her name, arousal shot through him-through his thoughts, but not his new form. He remembered taking Serena while Sommersby was inside her. The d.a.m.ned earl had a huge c.o.c.k, and through the thin, delicate walls of Serena's snug a.r.s.e, he'd felt his c.o.c.k stroke against Sommersby's.

His blood has roared at the sensation. His fangs had shot out, his jaw screaming with the pain of it, and Serena's glistening neck had been so close...

But she'd come and he'd fought to hang on, to hold off long enough to see Sommersby give in to the explosive o.r.g.a.s.m, before he succ.u.mbed to his own.

He'd never come so hard in his life-either alive or undead. He'd felt power surge through him. Instead of being weakened by his climax, he'd been slammed with a force that seemed to make his senses stronger.

Drake moved silently, slicing along a current of wind. First he would feed-he would find some brutal wh.o.r.emonger filled with rich blood-then he would return to Serena...

Serena opened her eyes, surprised to find she was alone beneath Jonathon's coat. She sat up, and a sharp pain in her bottom made her cry out. She slapped her hand there-something p.r.i.c.ked her finger. Her fingertip jabbed on a splinter from the pallet beneath her blanket. A long one, one that had poked through her shift.

Jonathon? Drake? Rubbing her sleep-filled eyes, Serena saw Drake, standing in the dark corner-the one that didn't stink-with his back to her. She caught her breath at the sight of his naked broad shoulders, the long line of his spine, the hard muscles of his rear.

It must be night. Still the same night, or had she slept through an entire day?

Drake? She asked again. They were alone in the room. Where was Jonathon? Why did Drake not seem to hear?

He had braced his hand against the wall as though he was too weak to stand, and she saw the gla.s.s vial in his hand.

He was still taking solange?

It would destroy him!

Without thought, she jumped up, the tattered blankets falling away, and she ran to him. She gripped his forearm. At first his arm jerked out, and she knew he meant to throw her off, but he hesitated. His eyes shone, reflecting the moonlight that slid in through streaks in the filthy window.

That pause gave her enough time-she grabbed the vial and tried to wrench it from his fingers. The slippery smoothness was her ally-as was his surprise. He couldn't hold it. But she'd pulled too hard, and the vial fell from her grasp. It bounced on the worn, dusty, plank floor without shattering. But as the vial lay still, the fluid dripped out onto the floor.

Beneath his brow, Drake leveled her with a look of fury that sent her scurrying back.

Serena fought for courage. "You are going to stop this. Now. Tonight."

Empty and desolate, his silvery-green eyes stayed on hers. "I want to stop. For you, I want to stop."

Jonathon eased out of the shadows as he felt a stirring of air by his face. A large shadow swooped by, and though he strained to watch the transformation, he found himself magically confronted by Sebastien de Wynter, nude, and leaning casually against the brick alehouse wall.

De Wynter arched a brow, crossing his arms across his chest. He seemed unconcerned by the cold air, by his vulnerable nakedness, by his dangling genitals, which Jonathon deliberately did not look at.

"What do you want to know, Sommersby?"

He remembered his note to de Wynter. I know you don't trust the Royal Society. If there is anyone I can trust to give me the truth, it is you.

However, he hadn't trusted even de Wynter enough to reveal Serena's location. So he'd chosen this filthy alley several blocks away.

Succinctly, while keeping watch down the alleyway for demons and for footpads, Jonathon explained the attack by the Society-by men he'd believed they could trust.

Grim horror etched de Wynter's face, and the silvery eyes dimmed. "You believe they wanted to capture Miss Lark?"

"What other explanation is there? Ashcroft doesn't want me to attempt to stop her change, he wants to study it. And Althea is at risk-"

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, I know that."

Staring into the swirling fog, Jonathon thought of the man who had been like a father to him. "Ashcroft wants to save humanity-it's distorted his view."

"His lordship wants to play G.o.d," de Wynter spat. "Althea has played along with Ashcroft's wishes, but she never trusted him. Now, however, she is afraid to leave Miss Lark; she wants to protect her. My wife believes that Serena must bring you and Drake Swift together to create the power to stop Lukos." De Wynter shook his head.

"How in Hades is that supposed to work?"

"I have no idea. All I know is that it does. Drake Swift was turned by Lukos-and Lukos was an apprentice to Lucifer."

"Lukos is a tenth apprentice?" Tension rippled down the back of Jonathon's neck. He knew the legends of the ten apprentices-men who would be allowed to enter a labyrinth of underground caves, which would take them to the realm of Lucifer. There they would make a pact with the devil to acquire occult knowledge-alchemy, magic spells, the secrets of nature and animals. Nine scholars would graduate, having undergone intense, bizarre, horrific ordeals. The tenth would be retained by Lucifer as payment and serve at the devil's side.

"Aye. Since Swift was made by Lukos, who was in turn changed by the devil, he should possess the powers pa.s.sed on by Lucifer. I was created by Lucifer and given powers known only to Old Nick. Your science, Sommersby, can never explain what we are."

"There is no riddle that science cannot-"

De Wynter's mocking grin reminded Jonathon of Swift's. "Do you want to learn, my lord, or not?"

Grinding his back teeth, Jonathon nodded. "Continue."

"The demons that remained with Lucifer grew too powerful and broke free of his hold. They became determined to overpower the devil and rule earth and the Underworld in his place. Each one fights for power and, like Lukos, each one seeks to be master."

For the first time, true fear wrapped around Jonathon's heart. Lukos possessed untold power, the capability to carry out unimaginable evil. "But what are you, de Wynter? Do you understand how you have life when you should be dead? What happens within you when you create magic? How do you survive on blood-"

De Wynter held up his hand. "I don't know. How do you breathe? How does your heart beat? What is your soul?"

Jonathon fought to bring the answers to the tip of his tongue, but de Wynter grinned. "How are all those miracles created from a f.u.c.k, Sommersby? From seed and womb? You can explain it, but you can never understand how such a miracle came to be."

"I believe that I can," Jonathon insisted. "I have to believe that."

De Wynter's pitying look sent hot anger through his gut. The vampire was naked, unarmed, didn't even have a soul, but was more at peace that he'd ever been.

"I am forcing Althea to leave England tonight," de Wynter continued. "I know the Society has been lying to her. They want our child. They want to ensure she stays until the baby is born, then they want to rip it apart like the soulless beasts they are. They want to study it in the name of your blasted science!"

Hit by de Wynter's enraged words, Jonathon recoiled. He'd removed the hearts of children. He'd cut up men's brains. He had staked the woman who had loved and trusted him. Was he a soulless beast? Was de Wynter, the vampire who loved his wife and child, the one who truly possessed a soul?

"Listen to me, Sommersby-it took the combined magic of my brother and me to protect Althea from a powerful foe. Swift can't summon his full power yet. It doesn't work at his command. The love of an intense, committed, loving threesome would unleash his power, but even then you will not have the strength to stop Lukos."

Jonathon lifted his crossbow and leveled it at de Wynter's naked chest. "I don't believe you."

"No, Sommersby. Your problem is that you do."

"So I allow Lukos to take her?" Jonathon shouted.

"No. You become vampire. You let Swift change you, and you combine your strength with his."

Cold shock slid through Jonathon's veins. Become vampire? He had destroyed Lilianne because vampires were evil-he couldn't become one.

Or could he? He grabbed for de Wynter's shoulder, trying to ignore the man's nudity. "When you changed-"

"Did it hurt?" De Wynter finished with a grin. His silvery green-blue eyes glinted with irritating mischief.

"No, I want to know why you aren't a ghoul driven by the need for blood."

"Indeed, I am not. I need blood, but I ensure that I kill no one. I have powers that a weaker vampire does not possess-that's why the Society has let us live."

"If I changed, would I be...be more than a mindless demon?"

"I have no b.l.o.o.d.y idea, Sommersby."

"So I take the chance of becoming a soulless killer to save Serena? There's no other way?" Jonathon raked his hand over his jaw. What an irony-would he finally understand how a vampire was born by making the ultimate experiment of himself? But could he let himself live as a vampire? Or could he transform, destroy Lukos, and then destroy himself?

Serena, a seductive internal voice whispered in his head. Become vampire and you can be with Serena for eternity- "My brother and I were twins," de Wynter said. "We were connected by a bond from our mother's womb. You and Drake Swift grew up together, hunted together. That bond may be as strong as that of brothers."

No, Jonathon reflected. He and Swift shared only one thing-loving Serena. They had never had a bond-only animosity, jealousy. He sure as h.e.l.l didn't consider Drake Swift a brother....

Could he really invite Drake Swift to suck his blood out of his neck? And trust Swift to transform him instead of letting him die-?

Grimly, Jonathon nodded. "Saving Serena is worth any price."

Stay with me. Let me stay with you.

Serena reached out to stroke Drake's forehead, to brush away the beads of sweat, but he grasped her waist and drew her to him. His long, erect c.o.c.k betrayed his arousal. His muscular chest glistened.

Help me through this, love. The craving is so strong...But I will fight it, fight it for you.

Bright, hot, his eyes stared beseechingly into hers, yet his fangs were out, stark white against his beautiful lips. Serena felt her stomach flip over with nerves. Drake looked utterly innocent and helpless and needy, but at the same time he was a powerful vampire.

His eyes changed. The lashes lowered and a molten fire touched him. A wicked grin came to his lips, a grin reflecting the most lascivious thoughts.

I want you. You. Only you. I want you to want me.

His words were barely coherent, but the raw hunger stunned her. His palms tapped the underside of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, covered by shift and gown and unsupported. Her nipples hardened, knowing his touch.

But it was the drug driving him, and she couldn't bear that. She pushed his hands away.

"I have nothing to give you, Serena, but you have my heart." He spoke aloud, weakly. His hoa.r.s.e, angry laugh made her shiver. "Not worth b.l.o.o.d.y much."

"Why did you take the drug?"

"To feel like a king, love. Why else? And so I'd sleep a dreamless sleep." He ground his pelvis against her, rubbing his hard c.o.c.k between their bodies.

Need and desire welled up. Need that swamped reason, that shattered rules. She burned underneath her gown, and her head pounded with the yearning to climb on top of Drake and take him deep inside. But she couldn't. She asked shakily, "What do you dream of?"

"Crying. Screaming. Holding a dead baby. I dreamed that a lot, but I'd held a lot of dead infants. Even my own, my son, and I lost Mary, his mother, while she was giving birth-"

"Oh G.o.d." Her heart ached for Drake-she understood his pain. "So the solange helped you escape. Helped you forget."

"I dreamed of when I was a pitiful infant and my mother tried to smother me. She told me when I was a boy-told me about how she'd pushed the blanket against my mouth and nose, m.u.f.fling my cries, and thinking how it would be better if I were dead. She'd been drunk, and she'd watched my legs kick slower with tears streaming down her face. Someone stopped her-another wh.o.r.e in the flashhouse-who told my mother she'd burn in h.e.l.l for killing me."

Serena bit back the tears, and when he reached out to her hand, she held his tight.

"My mother died when I was a boy. She choked on her vomit and I slept right through it. She hadn't made a sound..." Vividly green, his eyes held on hers. "I still want to forget, Serena, but you don't want me to take the stuff-"

"I can't force you to stop. And I can't imagine what it is like to be haunted by memories like that. But you have to want this." She realized that. "You have to find the strength within yourself."

Just as she had to-she had to find the strength within herself to face Lukos. To face the truth of what she was.

He cupped her cheek, drew her to him, and his mouth slanted over hers. Hot. He kissed like Jonathon-his kisses were raw and hungry, his mouth wide, his tongue demanding. His fingertips traced down her back, sending pleasure rushing over her skin in his wake- Startled, Serena pushed at Drake's jaw, pushing him back from the kiss. She lurched away from the pallet. "No-I can't do this. It isn't right to make love to one of you alone."

Eyes glinting with l.u.s.t, Drake laughed uproariously at that, and she felt her face burn. "So, you will only make love with the two of us? Then you'd better tie me down to this bed, Serena, because my body is craving s.e.x with you, and I can't trust myself."

Shivering, Serena reached for the tattered blanket. With shaking hands she tore off a strip. "Are you certain?"

"Do it. It's the only way you can protect yourself."

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Power Drake began to thrash on the bed, but the bonds at his wrists and ankles held him fast. Sweat dripped down his forehead, his nose, rolled to his lips. His neck gleamed with it, tempting her to taste, and Serena had to look away as she rinsed the white washcloth in the basin.

His rigid c.o.c.k lay along his belly, and his hips rocked and bucked. Deep, throaty groans came from his tense lips. His nipples stood hard.

Hiking up the skirt of her shift, Serena sat on the bed and bathed his face. She slid the cloth down to his gleaming neck, and then ran its coolness across his sweaty chest.

Solange. She remembered the sweet, cloying scent of it filling her nostrils as she awoke to find herself tied to a billiards table. Only days ago. A lifetime ago. All she'd wanted that night was the truth. Now she knew so much more...and nothing more.

The solange had not destroyed her.