Morgan reached for his cup and took a sip. “Overworked, are you?”

  I laughed. “You might say that.”

  *

  Darkness fell by the time the three of us ghosted into West Jefferson Medical Center. Among the three of us, we were able to shield ourselves from the staff. All they could feel when we passed by was a slight disturbance of air.

  Ever the jokester, Morgan pranced down the hall behind a pretty young nurse, grabbing her ass then doubling over with laughter when she uttered a startled yelp. When she turned to see who had goosed her, she saw no one, prompting yet another guffaw.

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him down the hall. “Really, you are so juvenile it’s hard to believe you’ve been around over a millennium.”

  Morgan dutifully followed in my wake, but looked over his shoulder at Anton. “How do you stand it when she gets all sanctimonious like this?

  Anton snorted. “This is nothing, mon ami. Wait until you really fuck up.”

  “Danu save me,” I rolled my eyes again.

  Etienne Metisse’s room was bathed in the glow of the flickering television, but he looked up when we walked inside. He was wrapped in bandages to protect his burns.

  “Who are you?” he asked. “You have to be sterile to come in here. The nurses say so.”

  I walked to the edge of his bed and smiled down at him. “My name is Lillith.” I gestured to my companions. “This gentleman is my mate, Anton. The blond man is Morgan, and he will be your guide for your upcoming journey, should you choose to participate.”

  He looked at me suspiciously. “You see me covered in bandages, eh? Where do you think I am going?”

  I briefly placed my hand on his forehead. “You may remember now, Etienne.”

  He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then opened them to study the three of us intently. He pointed at Morgan. “You carried me from the boiler room.” He looked at Anton and me. “You drained me, and you, lady, healed me.”

  “Yes,” I said softly. “Do you know what you are, Etienne?”

  His voice quavered. “You have damned me, lady! You have all damned me! The undead will never see heaven!”

  I moved to sit on the foot of his bed and gave him a gentle smile. “No, Etienne, you are far from damned. You were saved from the fires to right the wrongs that caused so many to die. Because you were meant to die in the conflagration, The Divine One offers you a choice. You may follow your destiny and seek death from your injuries, or you may become one of us.”

  He was frightened. He watched as his nurse entered the room to change his IV bag, never noticing us as she performed her task and departed.

  “What are you if not some kind of voodoo demons?”

  “Anton and Morgan, as you know, are vampires. But they are unique amongst those creatures, chosen by the Goddess Danu to assist me in my work. I am a soul collector. My task is to collect the souls of the dying and return them to Her.”

  Tears rolled down his face, soaking into the bandages. “Then you have come to kill me?”

  I reached for his hand. “Only if that is your choice, Etienne. Either of my companions can release you, and I will deliver your soul to Danu. Or, you can choose to take the next step, become immortal, and serve the Goddess as a soul collector.”

  The alarms on the machines monitoring him began to sound and I silenced them with a wave of my hand. “But my wife, my family. How can I live without them? How do I sleep in a coffin and feed on blood?”

  Morgan stepped forward and I moved away. “We are not those kinds of vampires, mon ami. Anton and I can walk in the light, though at times we must wear dark glasses. We eat as normal humans do, sleep in regular beds. We have sex.” He leaned down and smiled.

  “We do not feed on the innocent, and we only take the lives of the truly evil or those destined to die lingering, painful deaths.”

  At last, the light of understanding lit Etienne’s face. “So, you took them before the flames could consume them?”

  “Yes,” Morgan confirmed. “And Lillith gave them one last kiss, taking their souls as they left their bodies, delivering them to Danu.”

  “Will you join us?” I asked.

  Etienne struggled with the idea for another long moment, and then nodded. “But what of my family? My wife, my children?”

  “ You must feed, cher.” I stepped closer to him and offered my wrist. “Come, my blood will heal your scars, fledgling.”

  He gave me a look of longing, mixed with revulsion. Surprise registered on his face when he opened his mouth and his canines extended. His bandaged hands reached for my wrist and brought it to his mouth. Sharp fangs pierced my flesh and he began to feed.

  When he was done, I leaned down and kissed his peeling lips. “The healing has begun, Etienne.” I looked at Morgan and bade him take my place at the head of the bed. “Morgan will instruct you and answer your questions. As for your family, you will have the power to shield them from what you are, if that is your choice. No one will notice that you do not grow old. Should you choose to tell them, you must be prepared to deal with the consequences. Some families are able to adjust, others cannot. In time, Danu will release you from her service, returning you to your mortal form.”

  Etienne nodded, unable to take his eyes from me. “You are real, lady? This is really happening?”

  “Yes, Etienne, I am real. We are all real.”

  Chapter Seven

  With Morgan’s time being taken up by his responsibilities to Etienne, Anton and I were able to get back to our familiar routine. Newspaper headlines continued to blast the New Orleans Police Department for its inability to capture the Westside Rapist. Five more attacks had occurred while we’d dealt with the fire and the aftermath of Etienne’s turning.

  We sat at our usual table at Café Du Monde, sipping our coffee and reading news coverage of the rapes. Three of the five lived in the Garden District. All were wealthy, educated, and healthy. As far as the last two victims were concerned, police downplayed any connection to the serial rapes. Those poor women had been found raped and murdered, their throats torn out.

  My hands shook as I read the story of the murders and, as lead detective, Fabiene’s denials that the perpetrator was the same monstrous predator.

  “Their throats torn out,” I said, barely able to speak above a whisper. “Has someone gone over to the dark side?

  Anton shook his head, opened his cell and immediately called Morgan. A brief conversation assured us that all was well with Morgan’s charge.

  “Try Fabiene again,” I urged.

  “He will not call, cher,” Anton said softly. “He hasn’t responded once since these last attacks.”

  “Celine?”

  He closed his phone. “Also, will not return her calls.”

  “Surely you don’t think Celine had anything to do with these murders.” I desperately wanted Anton to deny any thought that the newly made immortal could be responsible.

  “I don’t know, cher. She is very young and the young ones turn easiest to darkness. It worries me that neither she nor Fabiene will return my calls.” He pushed back his chair and rose with a sigh. “I grow weary of this life, Lillith. I only wish She would release us so we could spend the rest of our time on a beautiful beach somewhere. I’m tired of the bitter taste of blood. I want to sip a fruity rum drink and make love to you in the sunshine.”

  He pulled out my chair then wrapped his arms around me. Melancholy was not a normal state for my lover, and I was moved to tears. I pressed my body tightly against him and murmured words of love.

  “Take me home, Anton. Make love to me.”

  He smiled and set me away from him. With his thumbs, he wiped away my tears then pulled my face to his for a kiss. His tongue parted my lips, dipping in to gently explore my mouth. It was a long, slow kiss that reached depths in me long forgotten.

  I’d been fourteen years old when Danu took me. There had been no time for a young girl’s yearning for love. No stolen kisses in the moonlight behind the backs of my parents. No dreams of babies held in my arms. Instead, I’d endured years of loneliness, a lifetime drenched in the blood and pain of humans who had long since stopped believing in anything but their own selfish desires. I, too, was tired, I realized. We separated and he took me by the hand, leading me home.

  Neither of us spoke as we strolled through the Quarter. I was remembering the first time I laid eyes on Anton. He was being held in the steely grasp of the vampire, Raphiel. The

  evil creature had torn the clothes from Anton’s body, viciously penetrating him with his cock and his canines. It had been Anton’s cries of agony that had drawn me to Cathedral Notre Dame de Paris. I had taken to haunting the cathedrals and churches of Paris in the hopes of finding Raphiel, for I’d had it on good authority that he took perverse delight in feeding on the faithful. Such proved to be the case that night. Had I been a moment later in my arrival, Anton would have been lost to me.

  “Cessez, vous petite morveux de l’obscurite!” Cease whelp of darkness.

  Raphiel released his hold on his victim, gave him a shove and watched impassively as the man fell to the ground.

  “I do not care for the taste of women, wench,” Raphiel had growled in poorly spoken French. “But since you see fit to interrupt my meal, I will make an exception.”

  His movements were lightening fast and he had me in his grip before I could respond. Fortunately, for me, the monster had no inkling of the powers I wielded. He was surprised when I went into his arms willingly, wrapping him in my embrace. I closed my eyes, uttered my maker’s name, and my body was instantly enveloped in white-hot light.

  Raphiel screamed in agony, trying to escape my clutches, but already his body was melting into mine. As he opened his mouth to scream for the last time, I inhaled, taking his dark spirit into my body. I fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

  His blackness tore at my own soul as Raphiel struggled to stay within me. His fear of The Divine One was palpable. I remember my own agony as Danu reached into my chest to retrieve this coveted prize.

  How he had managed it, I’ll never know, but an almost mortally wounded Anton had crawled to my side in an attempt to save me. His breath gurgled in his chest as he held me. “Fille idiote, qu’avez-vous fait?” he whispered. Foolish girl, what have you done? Tears spilled from his eyes as my body convulsed. Raphiel did not go quietly into Her hands, but in his own suffering, Anton’s tried to soothe mine.

  I looked at him, awed by the fact that he would offer me comfort when he was dying. His beautiful face was as pale as the moon, and blood continued to gush from his wound. “Hear me, Mother!” I cried. “I choose this man for a mate!”

  “So be it,” came the response from above. “Heal him, soul collector and he will be yours.”

  I thrust my wrist against his lips and implored him to feed. My blood could not reverse the curse Raphiel foisted on him, but it could cleanse him of the darkness of the creature who made him. He resisted, repelled by the idea of drinking human blood. “Feed, fledgling or you will wake to find yourself a fiend like Raphiel.”

  It stung when his fangs sank into my wrist, but I did not pull away. I watched as he fed on my healing blood. The skin on his neck closed, knitting together. “Cease, fledgling.” These are the very same words I had spoken to Etienne. He released me, looking at me as though I was some kind of monster. “There was no other choice for you, sir. Only damnation awaited you, though you were a victim of Raphiel. Did you not feed on sanctified blood, you would wake to find yourself the same kind of creature as he who made you. Judge me as you will, novice, but you are mine now. We must leave this place before we are discovered and they burn us as witches.”

  The jingle of Anton’s keys brought me out of my reverie. We were home, the gurgle of the courtyard fountain a welcome sound to ears that could still hear the distant cries of the past. I didn’t realize I’d been crying until Anton pulled me close.

  “What’s this, cher?” He stroked my hair, making shushing noises as though I was a baby to be comforted. “Why the tears?”

  His arms tightened around me as I shuddered. “I was remembering that night at Notre Dame. Do you not mourn the man you once were?”

  He rocked me back and forth. “Listen to me, cher. I do not regret a day that has passed since you came into my life.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Non, there are no buts. If not for you, I would have been no different from Raphiel. I would do it all again just for the opportunity to spend eternity in your arms. Surely you know this?”

  I tipped my head back, searching his eyes for any sign of deception. What I saw shook me to the core, for it was the purest love any woman could imagine.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  He rested his forehead against mine. “And I you, cher.”

  Before I could tear up again, he put his cheek next to mine and danced me toward the stairs, singing my favorite song, The Way You Look Tonight. He had no voice for singing, but to me he sounded like Sinatra, and as we climbed the stairs, I knew that as long as this man was by my side, I could take the worst life could throw at me.

  “Do you know what I remember about the night we met?” Anton asked as we slowly undressed.

  “What?”

  “I remember going back to that little cottage on the outskirts of Paris. It smelled of wood smoke and herbs. You were so shy, and embarrassed to tell me you’d never been with a man before.” He came up behind me and slid his arms around me, kissing my neck. “I was so afraid of hurting you, even though I knew you had these amazing abilities. For all I knew, you could turn me into a frog if you didn’t like the way I made love to you.”

  I laughed and turned in his arms, skin to skin. “As I recall, I very much liked the way you made love to me.”

  “Yes, you did.” He took my face in his hands and pressed a kiss against my lips. “I think I shall make love to you like that tonight. Gently, thoroughly, and all night long.” He kissed me again, tugging on my lower lip very gently, before allowing his tongue to brush against mine.

  A woman could very easily lose herself in Anton’s kiss. His lips were soft and full, slanting over mine. He tasted the inside of my lips, my teeth, the roof of my mouth, making hungry, sighing sounds as he deepened the kiss, his tongue mating with mine. His fingers grazed my cheeks and neck, tracing my skin with a whisper-light touch. Every nerve ending twanged like a violin string plucked by a master musician.

  Unlike the first time he’d made love to me, his touch held no hesitancy. His hands drifted down my bare back, caressing me until they came to rest on my ass, cupping me tightly against him. Hard and ready, he continued to kiss me until I begged him to make love to me.

  “Prends Moi. Me faire l’amour.” Take me. Make love to me. They were the same words I’d spoken that first night.

  He lifted me, carrying me to the bed we’d shared for so many, many years. He laid me in the middle and followed me down to take one of my breasts in his mouth. I sighed as his tongue and teeth tormented me, coaxing the nipple to full tumescence. My other breast received equal attention from his questing fingers as he stroked the sensitive underside and gently kneaded my flesh. I moaned as his mouth and fingers tweaked my nipples, my legs falling apart in invitation.

  Anton chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that vibrated against my nipple. His hand left my breast and traveled to my pussy, fingers combing through the coarse tangle of hair to dip into me.

  “How lovely and wet you feel, cher,” he murmured. “I hunger for the taste of you.”

  He shifted his body to lay between my open thighs, teasing them farther apart with his magical fingers. His light touch drove me mad as he caressed the delicate flesh at my very core. His index fingers delved beneath my labial lips, tracing the entire opening before sliding each one into my cunt, spreading me. My hips jerked as his tongue penetrated me. He lapped at the juices he’d set to flowing before he began his foray to my clit.

  “Oooh,” I cried as he took the sensitive button between his lips.

  Again, his laughter vibrated against me and my back arched, thrusting me against his mouth. His fingers left me and moved to give him better access to my clit. Now he began to feast.

  Thank God, we had no neighbors for I howled and wailed as Anton laved me with the flat of his tongue. I begged him to take me but he merely disciplined my wantonness by suckling that swollen bud again, pulling it between his lips to flick with the tip of his tongue.

  When he finally allowed to me to come, I yauped and yawled like a cat in heat. My fists pounded the bed and my hips levitated off the mattress, thrusting against his hungry mouth as I hollered his name.

  He gave me a moment to calm, and then impaled me. Still sensitized, I came twice more as his cock drove into me with slow, steady thrusts calculated to send me screaming over the edge.

  My hands grasped his ass, urging him on as my body shuddered. His own release came upon him and I whispered to him.

  “Hard. Fuck me hard. Come with me.”

  He slammed into me twice more, and then he roared in relief as he emptied himself inside me.

  As we lay entwined, Anton stroked my shoulder. “Have you never wished for children, cher? For a big, noisy family to fill up the house?”

  I nearly stopped breathing. We had always avoided talk of a family. The sense of foreboding that filled me made me shudder in his arms.

  “The thought has never been far from my mind, Anton, but what good does it do to yearn for that which you may not have?”

  His voice, heavy with bitterness, spoke what we had both been thinking. “It is not fair that we’ve given up so much and gained so little. Danu is a harsh mistress.”

  I rubbed my cheek against his shoulder. “Perhaps, but we have had more than a lifetime together, cher. We share the kind of love that people write epic poems about. If I had to choose between what I have with you, and a big noisy family, I would choose you. Every time, I would choose you.”