Damian straightened at once. "Juliet!" He stared at her, aghast. Was he worried for her safety? Or horrified that she'd broken one of his and Conrad's cardinal rules?

Julie flushed and dropped her gaze. The orders had been drummed into their heads from the time they were children. They were never to reveal themselves to others, never to display their fangs to anyone outside the family, always to find some other means to deal with threats. "I panicked, okay? It's just...there were a bunch of them and they..." She swallowed hard. They had no right touching her like that or saying what they did. "I got scared."

"I just hope we caught them all," Marc said. "And that we used enough venom so that they won't remember what they saw."

"Are you all right, nina?" Damian asked. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

The tenderness in his voice brought tears to Julie's eyes. She shook her head. "No, I'm fine." But when he opened his arms, she went into them all the same.

"There, there," Damian murmured, holding her close. "It will be all right. Perhaps Marc has a point. It's been a while since our last training session. You're probably out of practice. I'm sure that's all this is. We should schedule something. Maybe in the next day or so."

Julie sighed and reluctantly pulled away. "It's not going to help. Sparring with one of you in the gym, wearing comfortable clothes-what's that supposed to do for me? That's nothing at all like being out on the streets alone." Even sparring with both of them at once wasn't on par with what she'd been through tonight. Even with Marc, who'd always refused to pull his punches, she'd never felt frightened, only mad when he wouldn't let up, when he forced her to fight back harder than she wanted to.

She didn't need more practice; she had the moves down cold. She knew just what to do and how and when to do it. She'd always a.s.sumed that, if and when the time arose, instinct and training would take over, adrenaline would kick in and she'd fight back just like she was supposed to. That's not what had happened tonight, however. When the time came to act, she froze. She panicked. She hadn't wanted to fight back. She'd just wanted to get away.

"You think it's easy trying to fight in a dress or while wearing heels?" she demanded. "Well, it's not! It's hard to even run away dressed like this. I feel like...like I'm a target just because of who I am, how I look. None of the rest of you get that. You don't know what it's like for me."

"That's not completely true, chica," Damian said. "People may be perceived as targets for many reasons. Sometimes just being different is enough. And, unless you've forgotten all of your history lessons, you should recall that your grandfather and I lived through times when men routinely went about at night in heels."

"You're still not women," Julie felt obliged to point out.

Damian nodded. "No, we're not. But even though you've yet to meet them, there are many females of our kind, you know. In days past, they dressed-and hunted-in clothes that were very much more c.u.mbersome and restrictive than anything you've had to deal with. You should both consider yourselves extremely lucky that you were born into such a time as this. Besides, who was it that waylaid you tonight? They were men, were they not? Humans? Nothing more dangerous than that?"

Marc snorted. "Nah, we were also attacked by crocodiles and pigeons and a pack of rabid dogs, didn't we mention that part?"

"Basta!" Damian growled. "I was not talking to you, Marc." He looked at Julie expectantly. "Well, chica?"

"Yes."

"Well then, what was the difficulty? Between the training you've already received and your own strength, surely you could have found some other way to extricate yourself, without resorting to something so dangerous?"

Julie shook her head. What good did it do her to be stronger, if the men who'd corralled her didn't know it? If she had to hide what she was, how was she supposed to stop them from closing in on her in the first place? And sure, maybe she could have fought them all off if she'd had to, but what if she couldn't? What if there were too many of them?

"It's not enough." It was Marc who said it, speaking up so suddenly that both Julie and Damian turned to him in surprise. "It doesn't matter what we think about it. You can stand there all night telling her she can handle it, but if she doesn't feel that way herself, it's not going to make a d.a.m.n bit of difference. The same thing's gonna happen over and over again just the same."

Julie's blood ran cold. Oh, h.e.l.l, no. "No, it's not." She shook her head fiercely. "You hear me? It is not going to happen again. No way."

Marc's eyebrows rose. "Okay, glad to hear it."

Julie nodded. "Yeah. And you wanna know why? Because I just...I just won't go out alone anymore, that's all. I'll wait until one of you can go with me, or until we move somewhere else, somewhere safe-or safer, anyway. Maybe a smaller town."

"Aw, f.u.c.k." Marc shook his head. "C'mon, Jules. Now who's being stupid, huh? You don't want to do that."

"Well, of course I don't want to do it, Marc." She wanted to feel free again, like she always had before; like she could do anything, like she owned the night. "But it won't be so bad. And, it's not forever, right? We move all the time anyway." She broke off with a shrug, aware the others were staring at her. Well, let them stare. She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not happening again."

But her words left her feeling hollow inside all the same. She felt cheated, wronged. It wasn't fair! She'd always loved her life. She loved being who and what she was. It made her feel special, unique. Yes, there'd been trade-offs and, sure, she'd been lonely at times, but it was only lately that she'd really felt it. "Maybe we can get some more bagged blood, for the time being. You like that better anyway, don't you?"

"That's not the point," Marc said. "We weren't talking about what I like, were we?"

"Very well," Damian said with a sigh. "I see now what needs to be done. We'll go out tomorrow night, chica, you and I. We'll see if we cannot find these men who gave you such a hard time tonight-or others like them; I'm sure they are not the only ones. Any like group should suffice, I'd imagine."

"Wait." Marc frowned. "What're you saying? You're gonna purposely go out and look for trouble? Why?"

"Because-" Damian shrugged, "-it's better to confront one's fears than hide from them. And your sister is correct. I've neglected this part of her education, focused too much attention on theory, on time spent in the cla.s.sroom, rather than out on the streets. She needs to learn how to react properly in situ, as it were. You both do." He turned to Julie, an odd smile on his lips. "You'll dress up, then, s? You'll wear something nice? A party dress, perhaps?"

"Sure." Julie shrugged. "Why not?" She wasn't sure what Damian was trying to prove. Going out with him-or with Marc, or with Conrad-wasn't at all like going out alone. Which was exactly why she'd suggested it in the first place.

"Bueno." Damian's smile grew wider; the strange light in his eyes gleamed brighter. "So will I."

"I still can't believe you're doing this." Julie cast a sidelong glance at Damian as he walked beside her the following evening, his arm linked with hers, as they made their way toward the city's small downtown section. He was placing his steps a little more carefully than usual, but all in all he seemed more comfortable and walked with a lot more confidence than she would have expected, given the four-inch spiked heels of the shoes he was wearing. Her gaze swept over him again. The styled hair wasn't a total surprise, nor was the eyeliner. He'd sported both of those in the eighties. But everything else-the lashes, the lipstick, the slinky black dress-that was new. That was amazing. He looked...beautiful. Stylish. s.e.xy. Sophisticated. Every inch a woman. Julie felt a pang of envy. She couldn't have pulled that look off-not in a million years. She couldn't help wondering if she would ever reach the point where she could.

She hadn't had any idea that Damian was planning this tonight. Even his remarks about party dresses had gone over her head. She was pretty sure Marc hadn't figured it out either. If he'd known, if he'd even suspected something like this was in the works, there's no way he would have missed it.

When Damian had disappeared earlier in the evening, claiming he had a mysterious errand to run and promising he'd take her out with him when he returned, Julie hadn't known what to think. Maybe he was having second thoughts about tonight. Maybe he'd come back for her and maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd return with a supply of bagged blood and tell her to drink that instead.

She wasn't even sure she didn't want him to do just that. If he'd suggested, on his return, that they put off this adventure for another night, it would have been fine with her. She wasn't in the mood to confront her a.s.sailants again this soon anyway.

That's not what happened. Instead he'd come home, locked himself in his room, and emerged a surprisingly short while later looking like this.

She glanced at him again. "I don't understand. How is this supposed to help?"

Damian quirked one perfectly plucked eyebrow at her. "Did you not complain last night that none of the rest of us could understand the difficulties you faced as a woman?"

Julie's jaw clenched. Was he making fun of her? "Yes. I did. And you still don't." Dressing up like this was interesting, but it was not the same.

Damian nodded. "Very true. But at least I'm trying, chica. I'm walking a mile in your shoes tonight, if you will, in an effort to show you what can be done with them."

"What can be done...with shoes?"

"Indeed." Damian paused and stuck out one foot. The graceful wave he sketched at the f.u.c.k-me heel put Julie in mind of a game show hostess. "On the foot of a woman who knows what she's doing, this shoe is a formidable weapon."

"If you say so." Julie glanced skeptically at the pump.

Damian laughed softly and reclaimed her arm. "You'll see," he promised as they resumed walking.

There was a fey light burning in his eyes; Julie wasn't sure she trusted it. Even his smile seemed a little too savage, a little too eager. His smile? Her smile? "I don't even know what to call you when you're dressed like this."

Damian's smile softened. "I'm still the same person I've always been, chica."

"I guess." Julie cast another glance at Damian's ensemble. "How'd you even know how to do all this?" Maybe he could give her some tips.

Daman shrugged. "Ah, well, as to that. This isn't exactly the first time I've...experimented with different looks."

Yeah, she'd believe that all right. Glancing at their surroundings, Julie felt her stomach tighten into knots. Her steps slowed. Oh, c.r.a.p. They were now only a couple of blocks from where she'd been attacked. She so did not want to be here tonight.

"Easy now," Damian murmured. "Be brave, mi cielo."

"M-maybe we should come back and do this some other time. I'm hungry, Damian. Can't we just get something to eat and go home again?"

Damian shook his head. "I don't think so, chiquita. It's much like falling off a horse. Some things are made worse by taking time to think about them. It's best to get back on immediately." Damian tightened his grip on her arm and drew her along, gently but firmly. "There's nothing for you to fear tonight. I have everything under control. It will be all right. You'll see."

Julie frowned as a new thought occurred to her. "Did you get dressed up like this just to distract me from where we were going?"

Damian gazed back at her. A playful smile flirted with his lips. "I wouldn't say entirely, but that may have played a part. And it's not as though I didn't tell you where we were going. Now, come. It's time to pay a call on the men who upset mi nina linda."

It didn't take long to find them. Unfortunately. Julie drew in a sharp breath as they rounded a corner and the scent in the air brought last night's panic roaring back. She ground to a halt as she caught sight of the group congregating on the other side of the street. Five men, leaning on their cars and chatting, conveniently near the opening of the same alley they'd chased her into the night before.

"D," she whispered, her voice suddenly hoa.r.s.e as tremors coursed through her body. "Let's go back. I don't want to do this."

Damian's gaze slid over her, a.s.sessing her. "Now, now, chica. This is no time for second thoughts. You know I'm not fond of backing down from a fight, especially where mis bebes are concerned. So we will do what we came to do, s?"

"No," she protested as he pushed her gently into the entranceway of the closest storefront. The store was closed, of course, at this time of night, but Julie felt sheltered there, safer than she'd felt on the street. If they could only stay hidden there for a little while, invisible, until the men left or Damian changed his mind. "Let's just stay here, okay?"

"That's exactly what I want you to do. Stay right here and watch while I give your friends una pequena leccin. A little lesson. Can you do that for me?"

Julie's heart raced wildly. She nodded, unable to speak. But she didn't like this. Oh, she didn't like it at all!

"Bueno." Damian's expression softened. "Ah, belleza. Te amo con todo mi corazn. I love you with all my heart. You know this, s?"

He kissed her on the forehead, then pulled back, his smile morphing instantly into a frown. "Ai! Lipstick," he muttered as he rubbed her skin clean with his thumb. "Much better. Now, stay here until I tell you to come out. Understood?"

Julie nodded once again, even though she had no idea what she was agreeing to. She had the distinct impression there was something he was keeping from her, but what? And there was still that very strange gleam in his eyes-the one she didn't trust at all.

Giving her a last wink, Damian smiled. Then he turned and crossed the sidewalk and stepped into the street, headed straight for the group of men. If Julie didn't know him, she never would have guessed he wasn't a woman. His steps were light. His hips swayed provocatively. Even the way he held himself was different, although that might have been due at least in part to the heels.

Julie watched as Damian strolled closer to the men. She quailed as they sighted him, straightening to attention even as Damian's steps grew more hesitant. He stopped where he was, in the middle of the street, and let the men come to him. Words were exchanged. Julie knew she should be able to hear them-it was hardly that far, after all. Damian shook his head, probably in answer to something one of the men had said, but the words were lost. The buzzing rush of blood through Julie's veins deafened her to anything else.

The men moved closer, stalking Damian like prey. The thought infuriated her. He wasn't prey, d.a.m.n it. And neither was she. "This is stupid," she grumbled, nervously drumming her fingers on the cool gla.s.s of the store window. So what if Damian had instructed her to stay out of sight? She should be out there with him, there in the street, fighting her own battles. Damian lifted his head suddenly and laughed, as though he hadn't a care in the world. Julie watched as the men stiffened, anger and disbelief displacing their smirks, their leers turning into thunderous scowls. Oh, f.u.c.king h.e.l.l. They'd figured it out.

Enough is enough. Never mind what Damian said about staying put. She didn't need to stay hidden. She wasn't afraid anymore. She was just good and p.i.s.sed off.

She took a step back, away from the window, ready to join the fray when, without warning, a heavy weight slammed into her from behind. She was shoved face-first into the window. The gla.s.s stung her cheek as she struck it. It vibrated like a drumhead but miraculously stayed intact. The impact stunned her. Her eyes watered. She lost her breath.

"Goin' somewhere, girly?" a voice rasped in her ear. "Didja really think we was gonna let you run? Or maybe you wanted to go and join your little f.a.g friend? Come to think of it, maybe I should check. Make sure you ain't one too."

Fury rolled through Julie as the man pawed at her. She gasped for air, pulling in a deep breath. Enough...is...enough! An angry cry left her throat and she slammed her fist into the window. The gla.s.s shattered with a loud crack. Razor-sharp shards rained down upon them. The man holding her jerked back, still keeping a grip on her, pulling her with him-his last mistake. Julie stomped on his foot, her heel coming down hard on his instep as her training kicked in. Foot. Knee. Groin. She recited the words in her head, striking each target in turn.

He shrieked and groaned and doubled over. As he finally lost his hold on her, Julie spun around and grabbed him by the throat. Her training told her he was incapacitated now, it was time to run, but she was too...d.a.m.ned...mad. She s.n.a.t.c.hed a piece of gla.s.s from the pavement then rose to her feet, pulling the man up with her, then pushing him against the nearest wall.

Fear was not going to make her decisions for her-not anymore. No one else was going to do it either, especially not this grubby man who'd just had his hands all over her. She was Vampire. And from here on out, she'd make her own d.a.m.n decisions.

Julie eyed her captive angrily. She had one hand clenched around his neck, the other around the broken shard. He squirmed and struggled, until she raised the gla.s.s where he could see it. His eyes grew immense. He went glacier-still as she laid it across his throat. Only his gaze appeared to waver, tracking Julie's every move. His eyes widened even more as they focused on the blood flowing over Julie's wrist. Her blood, warm and thick, welling up from between her fingers.

There was a dull pain radiating from her hand. Julie knew she should drop the gla.s.s, but she could not make her taut muscles relax, couldn't loosen her fingers, couldn't make herself move. Part of her wanted to slit the man's throat. Part of her thought that might be a mistake. Indecision held her immobile.

"Easy, chica."

Damian. Julie sighed in relief. For a moment-for several moments for that matter-she'd forgotten all about him. She felt a pang of guilt. "D. Are you okay?"

"Shhh. Of course. I'm fine." His hand rubbed gentle circles on her back. "Let it go, child. You don't want to kill him."

Didn't she? Julie wasn't so sure. She managed to shake her head, the movement stiff, awkward, shaky.

"I've got him," Damian murmured. Fisting one hand in the man's hair, he used the other to gently pry Julie's hand from the gla.s.s. "It's over now. Why don't you go and tend to your hand."

"But..."

"I'll take care of him," Damian promised. He flashed an evil smile at the frightened man still pinned to the wall. "You may trust me on that count."

Julie nodded. Turning away, she uncurled her hand and took a look. The cut was already healing. Normally, she'd want to lick it closed, just to make sure. But not while she had an audience. Instead, she ripped a piece of cloth from the hem of her dress-the garment was ruined now, anyway-and used it as a bandage, although that was mostly for show.

Curious, she glanced across the street. Five men lay strewn on the sidewalk or over their cars, as though they'd been thrown there. She'd bet anything that, in this case, looks weren't deceiving. As far as she could tell, they were all alive. Just as well, she supposed.

"Let me go." The plea came from the man still caught in Damian's grip.

The sound of his voice pulled an angry snarl from Julie's throat as she turned back around. She was still so mad, so hungry, so unsettled. She wanted justice, revenge...something. Her fangs ached for release. She huffed out a sigh. "I guess we have to release him, don't we?"

"Not just yet we don't." Damian's smile turned a shade crueler as he bent to whisper in the man's ear. "Listen to me, cabron, it's a shame I shall have to take so much of your memory. But there are two things I would have you never forget. Always remember that it was a little girl who bested you tonight and a f.a.ggot who saved your life." Then he sank his fangs deep into the man's neck, flooding him with venom until his struggles ceased and his knees sagged and his head lolled to the side.

Julie swallowed hard. She felt a heaving in her gut as she watched Damian savage the man. She couldn't tell if she was excited or horrified-or horrified because she was excited.

Finally, Damian raised his head. His lips were a crimson smear as his eyes met Julie's. This time, however, their color owed nothing to any type of cosmetic. A hard smile curved his lips and his eyes were filled with grim satisfaction. He nodded toward the unconscious man. "Come, chica, my little princess warrior. Come and taste your victory. You've earned it."

Julie wrinkled her nose. Earned it? Yes, probably. But did she want it? "I'm not sure I'm hungry after all."

Damian shrugged. "Do as you wish, but I should think you'd at least want to celebrate. Tonight, you've overcome your demons. Surely that merits a small toast?"

Put that way, how could she resist?

Trembling inside, Julie took her place next to Damian. The smell of fresh blood laced with venom hit her hard. Her fangs pulsed suddenly with want. It seemed at least one part of her was not undecided after all. She took a deep breath and bit. One swift bite, no different than the tens of thousands that had come before it. The way the flesh gave and tore as her fangs pierced through it-that, too, was nothing different. Ah, but the blood that filled her mouth, that was something new.

It held the flavor of fear, sharp and bitter, unlike any blood she'd ever tasted. She recognized it instinctively, however. She knew it immediately for what it was as it crackled in her veins like static. She couldn't say she liked it, but after everything she'd been through, the fear and the anger, all the upsets of the evening, it was oddly satisfying. She drank deeper, chasing the odd flavor, rolling it around on her tongue. She still didn't like it, not quite, but she could imagine getting used to it, just the same.

The stars were winking out when Julie and Damian finally returned home. Watching from the front window, Conrad studied the pair grimly as they approached. He was relieved to see them return. The cloth wrapped around Julie's hand was somewhat ominous and as for Damian's appearance... Well, he couldn't even begin to address that subject. It dredged up memories, emotions, longings, fears, things better off forgotten.

He turned from the window before they could catch him staring. Taking a seat in the living room, he picked up the book he'd been trying to read earlier. With any luck, they'd a.s.sume he'd gotten engrossed in it and simply lost track of the time. It wouldn't do to let them know he'd been anxiously pacing the floor for the past few hours, ever since he'd wrestled the story of where they'd gone out of Marc.

"Did you have good hunting?" he called when he heard them in the entryway. A moment later, they appeared in the living room doorway, Julie nervously plucking at the bandage on her hand, Damian hovering silent and still behind her. Conrad could feel the tension from clear across the room, and worked hard to hold onto his temper. "Well, my dears? Have you nothing to say for yourselves?"

"It was good." It was Julie who answered. "It's been a long night, though. I'm tired now." Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were a touch too gla.s.sy, but it was the blood-soaked sleeve of her dress that held his attention.

What had she been doing to cut herself so badly? And what had Damian been thinking to let her get hurt? He felt his brow furrow. "What happened to your hand?"

"Oh, this? It's nothing. I cut it on some gla.s.s."

"Let me see it."

Julie hesitated. She looked like she wanted to say no, but Conrad was not in the mood to argue. He held out his hand and fixed her with an expectant gaze. Reluctantly, she crossed the room and laid her hand in his.