"If I Shared with you," Ryan began curiously, "would I have your Memories?"

This time the tapestry slipped to the floor unchecked. Abigail stared at her across the room and Ryan felt she had just inadvertently crossed some line.

Abigail searched Ryan's face, seeking any sort of knowledge of the implications of her question. She found none.

"You must never," Abigail began carefully, "never speak of such things to me."

Ryan felt as if she had committed some terrible faux pas, but was not certain what it was.

Abigail eyes lingered on Ryan's lips, then on her throat. Her eyes were dark as she regained control, and her predatory smile returned. "You must not suggest such things, my dear. Even I am tempted by you." She carefully picked up the tapestry from the floor, and her eyes flickered back to Ryan's. "You sorely test my loyalty to Victor. It would take very little encouragement for me to seduce you."

Ryan swallowed hard. She could not hold Abigail's gaze and looked down at her hands. Abigail watched her for a moment more, then returned to her tapestry. Ryan sat in silence for a long while, chastened.

But her thoughts swirled, returning to all they had spoken of. She realized how truly vulnerable she was in this violent and erotic world. This brought other questions to mind, questions she felt she had to ask.

"What would happen to me," Ryan began hesitantly, "if something happened to Victor?"

Abigail glanced sideways at her. "Nothing will happen to Victor."

"Yes," Ryan pressed, "I know. But what if something did?"

Abigail shrugged. "There would be a great fight for you amongst the Old Ones," she said, as if it were of no consequence.

"And would you fight for me?" Ryan asked.

Abigail smiled her preternatural smile. "Yes my dear, I would fight for you."

Ryan was not appeased. "And who would win this fight?"

Abigail shrugged, as if it were no matter. "Probably Marilyn. She is very strong."

A thought occurred to Ryan. "Did Marilyn Share with Victor?"

Abigail looked at her shrewdly, but she answered offhandedly. "Yes, I believe she has in the past. But it has been a long time."

Ryan digested this information and Abigail continued casually, watching her. "Marilyn has always wanted Victor, but I watched her at the gathering and I believe she has found something she wants more."

Ryan looked at her blankly, so Abigail spelled it out for her.

"I believe Marilyn's desire for you is nearly as great as her desire for Victor, perhaps even greater."

This was another startling revelation to Ryan, who had perceived none of this. She thought this through, returning to her original question. "And so Marilyn would fight for me and would win, and I would be killed."

This gave Abigail pause and she was thoughtful for a moment. "I do not believe so." She shook her head. "No, I am not certain that you can be killed. You may already be too powerful."

This disclosure was finally enough to silence Ryan. She sat quietly while Abigail's fingers flew over the tapestry. Abigail glanced up from her work, aware of the child's deep contemplation. Again, Ryan's lack of self-consciousness was disarming. Abigail reached out to mentally touch her.

Ryan's head jerked upward, unsettled by the contact. Abigail let her eyes linger on Ryan's throat once more.

"You know, my dear," she said softly but not gently, "I think the most precarious part about taking you would be not knowing who was seducing whom."

"I don't think I would have any difficulty answering that question."

The voice from the doorway startled Ryan, but Abigail had sensed Marilyn's presence a long way off and was unperturbed. She was not pleased with Marilyn's presence but like most of her Kind, any type of stimulation was irresistible, no matter how dangerous.

"Why Marilyn," Abigail said, making no attempt at subtlety, "whatever brings you here?"

Marilyn moved gracefully to Abigail's side. She leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I came to pay my respects, of course."

She turned to Ryan as she said this and Ryan felt herself getting to her feet, apparently not of her own volition. Marilyn moved to her side, her movements languid. She grasped Ryan's hands in her own.

Ryan gazed deep into Marilyn's eyes and it seemed to her the dark-haired woman's influence over her was like something alive. Ryan gazed at her lips, at the long, l.u.s.trous black hair, and tried desperately to clear her mind.

There was wicked glint in Marilyn's eyes and Ryan knew the fury directed at her the other night had been displaced by other, more powerful emotions.

"Marilyn," Abigail said with warning, "do not toy with the child."

Marilyn released Ryan's hands and Ryan sat down heavily on the settee. Marilyn sat down next to her, smoothing her flowing skirt.

Abigail watched the two, warring with herself. She knew she should not allow Marilyn here with Victor's progeny, but she was also immensely enjoying the sensations present in the room. She inwardly shrugged. What harm would there be in allowing Marilyn to trifle with the girl?

Ryan sat on the couch stiffly. She felt very much in over-her-head. Marilyn was not only powerful, she was also extremely beautiful. Ryan was conscious of her rough attire next to Marilyn's elegance.

Marilyn in turn was very aware of the effect she was having on the girl and found it captivating. Young Ones normally did little more than annoy Marilyn, but this one was special. She reached over and took a lock of Ryan's hair in her hand, twirling it around her finger.

Ryan looked to Abigail, who was dividing her attention between her st.i.tchery and the scene. Ryan realized she would receive little help from the older woman. Abigail had laid out boundaries but she would do nothing until Marilyn crossed them, leaving her plenty of room to torment Ryan.

Marilyn was now stroking her hair, which had a hypnotic effect on the young woman. Ryan's head began to feel too heavy for her neck and she had to lay back and rest it on the cushions. Her eyes became heavy and she fought to keep them open. All of the stiffness left her body and her limbs became leaden as she was forced to relax. Her eyes closed.

Abigail paused in her st.i.tchery. She could not help but stare at the child who appeared drugged on the couch. Abigail tried to ignore the sudden ache inside of her and Marilyn looked at her knowingly.

You could have her too, came Marilyn's voice inside her head.

Abigail looked at Marilyn in fury, angry that the woman had chosen to invade her mind without her permission. But the taunt was in Marilyn's eyes as well, and Abigail knew that Marilyn had manipulated her into a dangerous s.p.a.ce. How could she stop Marilyn if it took all of her willpower just to keep from joining her?

Marilyn returned her attention to the girl. Ryan was already half-leaning on her and it was a simple enough maneuver to gently guide her head so that she was lying on Marilyn's lap. Marilyn ran her thumb lightly over the veins in Ryan's throat, feeling a kindle of excitement at the strong pulse. This would be satisfying, but far too easy. Perhaps the girl was not as powerful as she thought.

Abigail felt as if time had stopped. She was powerless against her own voyeuristic pa.s.sion. Their Kind was ever more motivated by instant gratification over abstract concepts such as consequence, and she could no longer contemplate Victor's wrath. She wanted nothing more than to see Marilyn's teeth on the Young One's throat, and to watch the blood spill.

Marilyn lowered her head and brushed her lips lightly across the girl's veins. The throb of the pulse against her lips aroused her even further and she parted her lips so that she could brush her razor-sharp teeth against the skin.

But it was not to be because Marilyn felt a hand at her own throat, holding her head away.

Ryan looked up at her, her limbs still leaden but her eyes quite clear. Her hand was wrapped around Marilyn's throat and it took all of her strength to hold the woman away. Marilyn stared down at the child in stunned disbelief.

Ryan held Marilyn's gaze, watching her carefully. She slowly loosened her grip until her hand was merely resting against Marilyn's throat, and now it was her turn to gently caress Marilyn's veins with her thumb.

Fury flashed in Marilyn's eyes and her hand moved swiftly. Ryan could barely deflect the hand away from her and just managed to grip the wrist, which she could barely hold onto. Marilyn's other hand moved faster than her eye could see and she just managed to get a weak grip on the forearm to protect herself.

But she was no match for Marilyn's strength and Marilyn easily pressed her arms downward, pinning her. Ryan realized she should have left one hand at Marilyn's throat.

"You impudent whelp," Marilyn said through clenched teeth. "any others, even Abigail would welcome my attention."

"Oh, yes dear," Abigail said, highly amused. She had returned to her st.i.tchery, still entertained by the unfolding drama, but now for different reasons. It was characteristic of their Kind to switch allegiances without hesitation, and apparently without the slightest bit of self-reproach.

Ryan stared up at the furious woman. She forced herself to remain calm, and gathered her strength.

No, came the soothing voice inside Marilyn's head. You will not do this.

Marilyn was stunned, and in her surprise, she loosened her grip on Ryan. Ryan did not move, but simply stared up at the woman, holding her gaze intensely.

"You will not do this," Ryan repeated softly, this time aloud, "because it is not your way."

"What do you know of my way?" Marilyn asked through still-clenched teeth.

Ryan again stared at her intently, and she spoke as if remembering. "You have never forced anyone," she said slowly, "they come to you because they want you." She c.o.c.ked her head to one side, as if listening. "Even Victor came to you because he wanted you."

Marilyn was so astonished by the girl's ability and insight that she fully released Ryan. Ryan sat up and moved away from her on the couch, straightening her clothing. She gave off an aura of outward calm but was inwardly struggling to maintain her composure.

Marilyn was not fooled by the girl's outward display and quickly regained her own icy poise. Her hand flashed outward and she snagged Ryan's shirtfront. With a snap she dragged Ryan toward her and Ryan found herself half on her knees and half on Marilyn's lap, face-to-face with the dark-haired woman once more.

Marilyn stared down at the Young One, searching her eyes. Ryan tried not to look at her, but found her own eyes lingering on Marilyn's lips. Marilyn did not miss the involuntary attention.

"So," she said with satisfaction, "you are only half-right."

Ryan was fl.u.s.tered. "What do you mean?"

Marilyn smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile. "You are right. It is not my way to force anyone. But you are wrong if you think that will save you."

Ryan swallowed hard, desperately trying to hide her emotions. But she could hide nothing. Marilyn saw the flicker of desire in the girl's eyes, saw the confusion intermixed with longing.

Ryan tried to turn away but Marilyn would not allow her to do so. "You do want me," she whispered to her, her dark eyes flashing triumphantly.

Ryan could not deny her words and closed her eyes, as if that could lessen the woman's hold on her right now. Marilyn leaned close to whisper in her ear.

"You will come to me one day."

"Well isn't this a pleasant domestic scene," Victor said dryly from the doorway.

Abigail glanced up from her st.i.tchery, unruffled by his presence. She had sensed Victor's approach, and knew that Marilyn had not. "Greetings, my Lord, I trust your journey went well?"

Marilyn responded to Victor's presence by releasing Ryan, causing her to sprawl backwards onto the floor at Abigail's feet.

Victor raised an eyebrow. "I thought I left fairly explicit instructions, Abigail," he said mildly.

Abigail glanced down at the dazed youngster. "She is unharmed, my Lord. I believe that is all you asked of me."

Marilyn stood and smoothed out her skirt. "Why Victor, I did not expect you to return so soon," she said coolly, contrition absent from her voice.

Victor watched as Ryan staggered to her feet. "Yes, that's quite obvious."

Ryan sat down on Abigail's stool, holding her head in her hands. The strain of resisting Marilyn had taken its toll. Marilyn watched the exhausted child through narrowed eyes. She had been so close.

"Ryan and I were simply becoming better acquainted."

Victor also noted Ryan's signs of exhaustion, and the blatant look of calculation on Marilyn's face. He had felt from a distance what had transpired; what he saw before him was only confirmation.

"Ryan," he said firmly, "leave us."

Ryan glanced up at him and stood. She was too exhausted to provide a defense and simply obeyed. She walked from the room without a backward glance while the three Old Ones watched her leave.

Marilyn stood abruptly, smoothing her skirt. "I should be leaving as well, my lord."

Victor said nothing but watched her as she approached the door. She paused in the doorway and turned back to him. "Thank you for such a delightful afternoon," she said suggestively, "it has been years since I have so enjoyed myself."

She started to turn again but paused when Victor spoke.

"Marilyn," Victor said mildly, "do not follow my child."

Marilyn left, not foolish enough to ignore the warning. The sound of a carriage pulling away could be heard.

Victor turned to Abigail with a look of reproach. "Abigail, I do not trust Marilyn but I had hoped for better from you."

Abigail shrugged, continuing her needlepoint. "I did not ask to be placed in so difficult a position." She looked up at him shrewdly. "Can Marilyn be accused of desiring that which you yourself covet so greatly?"

"And you as well," Victor added.

Abigail's only concession was a slight nod. "But I live to serve you, my lord," she murmured.

She placed her needlepoint down and looked Victor straight in the eye with the unblinking gaze of their Kind. Her words were thoughtful.

"But now perhaps I should fear for you, as well."

Victor looked at her with surprise. "And why is that, my lady?"

Abigail glanced off into the distance and Victor knew she was mentally reaching out to touch Ryan. She made the contact and her attention returned. Her countenance darkened as she thought of the girl, and the darkness was reflected in her words.

"I fear you have created something you cannot control."

Victor's response was also dark and thoughtful, but his words were surprising. He, too, mentally gazed out into the distance before he spoke.

"I certainly hope so."

Susan was mesmerized by the story. She was having the same experience she had the first time Ryan had begun to speak of her past, almost as if she were in a trance. Susan felt she could see what was happening. Ryan told the story in an odd manner, though, almost as if from multiple perspectives.

"You sometimes speak from Victor's point of view."

Ryan nodded. "It's because I have his Memories." Ryan crossed her long legs in front of her. "It's a very strange feeling, and one that takes getting used to. Even now it's odd at times because I'm not certain whose mind I'm looking through. I see places I've never been and remember things I've never seen."