Four days, and she'd had no word from him. Where was he? Time and again Analisa sought out Mrs. Thornfield, begging the housekeeper to tell her where Alesandro was if she knew, but Mrs. Thornfield only shook her head.

"Try not to worry, child. He'll be home when he is able," was all the housekeeper would say.

When he was able. The words conjured horrible images in Analisa's mind; images of Alesandro lying helpless and alone in the dark, weak and in pain.

Her studies came to a standstill. She ate but little and slept less. Too worried to read, too restless to concentrate on needlework, she paced the floors of the manor.

"You'll wear out your slippers," Mrs. Thornfield chided, but Analisa knew the housekeeper was as worried as she.

On the eighth night, overcome with exhaustion, she went up to his room. Going to the wardrobe, she opened the doors and ran her hands over the coats hanging inside. They were all fashioned of expensive cloth, most in dark colors. It comforted her a little, to see them there, to touch something he had worn. With a sigh, she crawled under the covers of his bed. His scent surrounded her, soothing her even as it reminded her of what might be forever lost. Alesandro...

She sat up, her heart pounding in anticipation when the door opened, but it was only Mrs. Thornfield.

"I brought you a nice cup of tea," she said, "to help you sleep."

Analisa knew that her disappointment was evident as she thanked the housekeeper.

"Try not to worry," Mrs. Thornfield said. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Analisa nodded.

"Good night, child."

"Good night."

She sipped the tea, grateful for its warmth. Putting the cup on the table beside the bed, she slid under the covers once more.

She was almost asleep when she heard his voice in her mind.

Analisa...

"Alesandro!" She bolted upright, her gaze searching the darkness. "Where are you?"

Come to me...

Slipping out of bed, she left his chamber. Heedless that her feet were bare and she wore nothing but her nightgown, she left the house, following the narrow, winding path that led to the crypt in the grove. The wind whipped her nightgown around her ankles, sent chills down her spine.

She was shivering when she reached the crypt. "Alesandro? Alesandro, where are you?"

"Here."

She whirled around, her eyes widening when she saw him. He was pale, his skin almost as white as the marble tomb. She reached for his hand, and he jerked it away, but not before she touched him. He was cold, so cold. The wordscold as deathwhispered through her mind.

"What's happened?" she asked. "You look..."

"Rodrigo," he said, and told her, in a voice empty of emotion, what had happened.

"You need blood, don't you?"

He nodded. He looked down at her, hating himself for his weakness. He should not have called her here. Had he any honor, he would have gone elsewhere to assuage his hunger, but it was her blood he craved, her blood that called to him, sweeter, more satisfying, than any other.

" 'Lisa..." He gazed into her eyes, not wanting to ask, knowing he could take what he needed by force, knowing, just as certainly, that he would not.

In silent invitation, she tilted her head to one side, brushed the hair away from her neck, and waited.

He told himself to leave her, to take his hellish thirst elsewhere, but he could not deny his need. Quietly cursing the hunger raging through him, he took her into his arms and bent over the slender curve of her neck.

She moaned softly when his fangs pierced her skin, a soft sound of mingled pain and pleasure as she surrendered to his vampire kiss. It should have repelled her, she thought. Why did she find it somehow arousing instead of abhorrent? Why did she find the thought of his going to another so distressing? But none of that mattered now. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to his need. And her own.

Strength flowed through Alesandro, chasing away his lassitude. The demon within urged him to take more than he needed, to bury his fangs deep in her soft flesh and take it all. He fought the impulse to do so, taking only what he needed to ease his pain, and then he put her away from him.

She looked up at him, her eyes unfocused.

"Analisa?" He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

She sagged against him, her eyelids fluttering down, her cheek resting on his chest, her face pale. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her up to the house, settled her onto the sofa, covered her with a blanket. A wave of his hand summoned a fire in the hearth. Feeling unworthy, he sat beside her, his senses lightly probing hers.

With a sigh, she looked up at him. She had beautiful eyes. If they were indeed the windows to the soul, then her soul was as pure as that of a newborn babe.

Muttering an oath, he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "I am sorry,cara mia. Forgive me for my need, my weakness. It is beastly. Unforgivable." He shook his head. "Irresistible."

"There's nothing to forgive, Alesandro," she said quietly. "I'm fine, truly I am. It's quite pleasurable, you know."

His gaze moved over her, noting the dark shadows under her eyes, the faint hollows in her cheeks. "Are you well?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm fine. Except... well, I've not been sleeping very well the last few nights."

"Is something troubling you?"

"You trouble me."

He smiled faintly. "Not nearly as much as you trouble me."

"Who is Rodrigo? What's between the two of you?" His arms suddenly felt like steel around her. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It is all right. You, of all people, have a right to know. He is what people expect a vampire to be," Alesandro said quietly. "He revels in what he is, in the power he has. He delights in killing."

"He tried to kill you, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"We were friends once. We grew up together, practiced medicine together, such as it was those days. Rodrigo was in love with my sister, Serafina. They planned to marry. A few months before the wedding, Rodrigo and I went into the city. We had been drinking heavily. When we left the tavern, we saw a woman. A beautiful woman. Rodrigo decided to follow her, and I followed him.

"When we reached the lane that led to her house, she turned and beckoned us to follow. Rodrigo did so, but I held back. He was in there for a long time, and I began to worry. I crept up to one of the windows and peered inside."

He paused, seeing it all again in his mind.

"They were on the bed. At first, I thought they were making love, but then the woman turned toward me, and I saw the blood smeared on her mouth. Her eyes were red and glittering. She hissed when she saw me.

"I turned away in terror and began to run, but she caught me easily. I fought her, my terror adding to my strength, and yet I was helpless against her. She threw me to the ground, and I felt her fangs tear at my throat. She was angry that I had spied on her, and there was no gentleness in her."

Analisa's eyes grew wide, her face pale.

"She carried me back to her house and left me there, with Rodrigo. I watched in horror as he died before my eyes, and then it happened to me, as well, and when we woke the next night, we were new creatures."

"But how... how was it done?"

"The transformation? She took our blood, drained us to the point of death, and then gave it back to us.

That night, we died as mortals and were reborn as vampires."

"But you gave me your blood, and I'm not a vampire."

"It is not just the giving of blood, 'Lisa. To bring you across, I would have to take your blood, all of it, and then give it back to you."

"Have you ever made another vampire?"

"No."

"Go on," she said. "What happened next? Were you terribly afraid when you woke the next night?"

He nodded. "The woman was gone. I never saw her again. Rodrigo and I washed away the blood and went home, not certain what had happened to us, knowing only that we were different somehow. My family was relievedtosee me, apparently safe and well. Little did they know. The days that followed were like a nightmare. Eventually I realized I could not stay there, could not pretend that nothing had changed. Could not put the lives of my loved ones in danger. As a new vampire, the hunger was strong within me, impossible to resist. At first, Rodrigo and I hunted together, but that did not last long. Vampires, we learned, are territorial by nature. We could not share the same hunting grounds. It was a difficult time.

"Rodrigo gloried in the killing. I did not, and yet I killed because I could not control the hunger inside me, because the pain of not feeding was beyond bearing. Because I did not know, then, that I did not have to kill to survive."

"But, to drink blood..." She shuddered. "Wasn't it... isn't it horrible?"

"I am a vampire, Analisa. It is natural for me, as natural as drinking water is for you."

She considered that a moment. "Didn't your family wonder why they didn't see you during the day anymore?"

He shook his head. "No. I had rarely been home during the day. They assumed I was seeing patients."

"Go on."

"Rodrigo was still planning to marry my sister. I told him he could not, but he laughed and said I could not stop him, that he intended to marry her and bring her across. Nothing I could say would change his mind.

"I tried to talk to Serafina, to tell her that Rodrigo had changed, that he was no longer fit to be her husband, but she refused to listen. I told her what he had become, but she did not believe me. In desperation, I told her that it had happened to me, too, and when she still refused to believe, I showed her what I was."

He grew silent, his features twisted with agony.

"Alesandro?"

"She was a delicate creature, my sister, my Serafina. Fragile. She took one look at me, at the monster I had become... it was too much for her to bear. She went quite mad. No one knew what had happened to her, of course, and I dared not explain. My father could not bear to send her away. He locked her in a room in the attic to keep her from hurting herself and to protect my younger sisters."

He stared into the distance. "It did no good. A month later, Serafina hanged herself. I left home that night, never to return. I came here, had this place built, and when I learned to control the hunger, I tried to redeem myself by helping others."

"And the crypt in the grove?"

"I cannot stay in one place too long lest people notice that I do not age. I had the crypt made and then I left the country for a time. When I returned, I posed as the son of the first Alesandro."

It was a charade he had played out numerous times in each country where he maintained a residence.

"And then, two hundred years ago, Rodrigo found me in Spain. He has never forgiven me for what I did. But then," he said quietly, "neither have I."

"Alesandro, I'm so sorry."

"You should leave here," he said. "Now. Tonight."

"No!"

"I have been a selfish fool to think I could keep you safe."

She caressed his cheek. His skin was cool, taut. "I'm not afraid."

"You should be."

"You said Rodrigo preys on the villagers. He does that to hurt you, doesn't he?"

"He has no regard for human life, and he considers it a weakness that I do, that I have not completely forsaken my humanity, as he has. It is a game he plays, following me wherever I go, draining his victims almost to the point of death, seeing if I can save them before it is too late."

"That's cruel!"

His gaze moved over her face. "No more cruel than it is of me to keep you here."

"But you're not keeping me here. I want to stay."

His arm tightened around her, threatening to cut off her breath. " 'Lisa."

Leaning forward, she kissed him lightly, one hand cupping his cheek. "You must put the past behind you, my lord, and think only of the future."

"I have tried. Believe me, I have tried."

"Then we must try again."

We. How very much he liked the sound of that.

"Is there no way to stop him?" she asked. "No way to end this hatred between you?"

"He will not stop until one of us has been destroyed."

Her eyes widened in denial. "Then let's go away from here! Someplace where he can't find us."

"I do not know if such a place exists, Analisa. He is a powerful vampire."

"More powerful than you?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"How can that be?"

"Killing makes a vampire strong, 'Lisa. The hunger feeds on itself. When a vampire kills, he takes not only the blood of his victim, but his strength as well. It is a potent combination."

And Alesandro had not killed for over two centuries, Analisa mused. "Please, let's go away from here. Maybe he won't find us. Maybe he won't try."

He smiled down at her, knowing that he would grant her anything she desired. "Where would you like to go?"

"I don't know."

"I have a small estate in the north. We can go there, if you like."

She nodded, her dark eyes eager, hopeful.

"Very well. I shall have Mrs. Thornfield make the arrangements. I will meet you at Gallatin Manor two nights from now."

Alesandro was as good as his word. Two days later, the house at Blackbriar was locked up and Analisa and the staff were packed and ready to go.

Farleigh handed Analisa, Sally, and Mrs. Thornfield into the Avallone carriage, then climbed on top and took up the reins. Cook and Dewhurst rode topside with him. Annie Cullen and Elton would remain behind to look after the house and the livestock. No easy task, Analisa thought, even with most of the Hall's occupants away.

Analisa sat back against the seat, excited by the thought of a journey. She had seen so little of the world. Until the epidemic, she had never left the small village where she had been born.

"Is Gallatin Manor as grand a place as Blackbriar?" she asked.

"Gallatin is a bit smaller," Mrs. Thornfield replied. She drew her shawl more closely around her shoulders. "It's a grand place, though."

"And Robert is there," Sally murmured, and then blushed to the roots of her hair.

"Who's Robert?" Analisa asked.

Mrs. Thornfield fixed Sally with a stern look before replying, "Robert Mason. He is the caretaker at Gallatin Manor. Quite a handsome young man. And quite a ladies' man, if you take my meaning."

Analisa glanced at Sally, who met her gaze briefly before looking away.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Analisa said. "Is there something wrong with Robert?"

"Married help is frowned upon," Mrs. Thornfield said stiffly.

"I had assumed youwere married," Analisa remarked, frowning.

"In my case, Missus is a title of respect," Mrs. Thornfield replied. She glanced at Sally. "Not that Robert is a marrying man. I daresay he's had his way with every maid in the county."

"That's not true!" Sally exclaimed, then covered her mouth with her hand.

The coach fell silent after Sally's outburst. Analisa knew little of what was expected of servants. She had heard that it was a hard life, that they were paid little, and granted little time off save for half a day on Sundays, one evening out each week, and one day off each month. In truth, she found it hard to feel sorry for them. At home, she had worked harder than any servant employed at Blackbriar. At home, there had been times when there was no wood for a fire, days when she'd had nothing to eat but a piece of dry bread. Blackbriar's servants at least were assured of a warm place to sleep and food to eat. As housekeeper, Mrs. Thornfield had the most enviable position, and the most authority. She was responsible for hiring and firing and was in charge of the other servants.

Analisa gazed out the window, her thoughts turning toward Alesandro. Where was he now? Already at the Manor? Or sleeping in his lair back at the Hall, waiting for nightfall? She frowned, wondering if he had a place to spend the days at the Manor, or if he would return to the stone cottage at Blackbriar each morning before dawn. She wondered why he slept in the cottage and not in his bed at the Hall. Surely the servants would not approach his room if he told them not to. All he need do was lock his chamber door and instruct the staff to stay away. Or was it that he didn't trust them? Would she, if she were in his place? He had told her he was vulnerable during the daylight hours. Did that mean he was helpless as well?

She watched the scenery pass by, gently rolling hills green from the last rain, spring flowers blooming on the hillsides. They passed a small herd of sheep, and she smiled at the antics of the lambs. The sun played peekaboo with a handful of fluffy white clouds. It was such a beautiful day, it was hard to imagine any ugliness in the world, hard to imagine that a creature like Rodrigo was causing such terror in the village, hard to believe that Alesandro was a vampire...

She lifted a hand to her neck, felt a little flare of heat from the place where his teeth had pierced her skin. Hard to believe that an act that should fill her with fear and loathing should be so pleasurable.

She closed her eyes as the rolling motion of the carriage lulled her to sleep.

He was asleep in the stone cottage in the woods, his head resting on a feather pillow covered with a black pillow slip, his body unmoving in its death-like sleep. He did not dream, and yet her image, vague and shadowy yet still recognizable, moved through his mind...

She woke with a start as the carriage came to a halt.

"Are you all right, miss?" Sally asked, leaning toward her.

"Yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

"You look right pale, you do."

"Do I?" Analisa glanced out the window. "Where are we?"

"The Hare and Hound Inn. We've stopped to rest the horses and get a bite to eat."

"Oh."

A moment later, Farleigh opened the door and handed Analisa out of the carriage. She started toward the inn, stopped when she realized only Farleigh was following her. She turned to speak to Mrs. Thornfield. "Aren't you and the others coming?"

"No, child." Mrs. Thornfield gestured at a table in the shade of the inn. "We'll eat out here."

"Oh." Of course, Analisa thought, servants weren't in the habit of sitting at table with the lady of the house.

"Farleigh will act as your footman," Mrs. Thornfield explained.

Analisa nodded. Ladies did not travel about unaccompanied, just as unmarried ladies under the age of thirty were never to be in the company of a gentleman without a chaperone.

Still, she didn't like the idea of eating at a table by herself while Farleigh looked on. "Farleigh, you and Dewhurst go and get us all something to eat and bring it out here." She reached into her bag and handed the coachman some money. "That should be enough, shouldn't it?"

Farleigh glanced at Mrs. Thornfield, his expression uncertain.

Mrs. Thornfield shook her head. "Miss Analisa, 'tisn't proper for you to eat out here with the help."

"Well, I don't want to eat alone." She held up a hand, cutting off the housekeeper's protests. "I shall eat out here."

"Very well, miss."

Analisa sat down at the table, and after a moment, Sally, Cook, and Mrs. Thornfield joined her. It was odd, she thought, that no one ever called Cook by any other name.

Though she had lived at the Hall for months now, an awkward silence settled over them. Analisa thought it strange. She supposed she had come to think of the servants at the Hall as her friends; it was obvious they did not feel the same. Having been poor all her life, Analisa had never had servants, never realized the social barrier between master and servant.

She could understand the distance between Alesandro and the staff. After all, he was the lord of the manor. But she was nothing more than a guest, an orphan with no place else to go. In truth, her social standing was more equal to the staff's than to the master's.

Farleigh and Dewhurst returned with the food a short time later. Dewhurst ate quickly, then went to check on the horses. Farleigh and Cook excused themselves not long after that.

The ladies visited the necessary, and then they all piled into the coach again.

Analisa fastened her attention on the passing countryside. She wasn't cut out to be lady of the manor, she thought. Ifnot for Alesandro's kindness, she would probably be working as a servant herself. She drifted off to sleep with that thought in mind.

They traveled until dusk, then took shelter at another inn. Analisa had a room of her own. Mrs. Thornfield and Sally shared a room; the men occupied another.

As always, Alesandro had been most generous and their rooms were large and well furnished.

After a hot bath, Analisa crawled into bed, weary from the long journey. Tomorrow night, she thought as she closed her eyes; tomorrow night she would see Alesandro.