She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, sobbing, when she felt a change in the wind. It raised the hair at her nape and along her arms, made her palms sweat and her mouth go dry.

Scrambling to her feet, with a stake in one hand and her gun in the other, Savanah turned in a slow circle, her gaze seeking to penetrate the darkness in the distant corners of the backyard.

Someone, or something, was out there, hiding in the shadows.

Savanah froze, narrowing her eyes as what looked like a shimmer of silver motes moved toward her through the trees. Certain she was imagining things, she rubbed her eyes and when she opened them again, a man was striding toward her, a tall man dressed all in black.

Lifting her gun hand, she aimed the weapon in his direction. “Don’t come any closer.”

He didn’t stop, or even slow down. “I mean you no harm. I’ve come to help.”

“Are you a doctor?” She knew the question was ludicrous even as it passed her lips. Why would a doctor be lurking outside in the shadows just when she needed one?

Before she could decide whether or not to pull the trigger, the stranger was upon her. Plucking the gun from her hand, he slipped it into his coat pocket.

Savanah stared at the stranger, glanced down at Rane, and then looked at the stranger again. She frowned as realization dawned. The man standing in front of her could be no one but…“Rafe?”

He nodded. “At your service.”

“What are you doing here? How did you know…?”

“We’re twins,” Rafe said quietly. “I can feel the pain burning through him.” He glanced at the Werewolf’s body. “The bastard injected Rane with holy water.”

Fear knotted deep in Savanah’s belly. A few drops of holy water on Rane’s face and neck had blistered his skin. What would it do to his insides? “Will it kill him?”

“I can’t say, but it has rendered him helpless, powerless.” He closed his eyes a moment, his jaw clenching. “The pain is excruciating.”

“You can really feel what he’s feeling?”

“Yes.” He let out a long shuddering sigh. “It is beyond description, almost beyond bearing.”

Savanah regarded the Vampire. Though he’d said he was feeling his brother’s pain, he gave little visible sign of it. She wondered if it was due to some deep inner strength, or if he was making an effort to shield his pain from her eyes. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now but Rane. “Can you help him?”

“I hope so.” Kneeling, Rafe lifted his brother into his arms, then nodded toward the house. “After you.”

Moving quickly, Savanah led the way to the back door. She was halfway across the kitchen when she realized that Rafe wasn’t behind her. Of course, he had never been here before. He needed an invitation to enter her home.

Calling, “Come in” over her shoulder, Savanah hurried down the hallway to her father’s room. She turned down the covers on the bed, chewed on her thumbnail as she watched Rafe lower his brother gently onto the mattress.

Blood from the numerous bites and scratches that covered Rane’s body quickly soaked into the sheets. Vampires were supposed to mend quickly, so why wasn’t he? Was it the holy water that kept his wounds from healing, or something else? Something worse?

“You might want to wait outside,” Rafe suggested.

“Why?”

“I’m going to give him my blood and hope that it will counteract the effects of the holy water.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Let us hope that it does,” Rafe said, his expression grim.

“Get on with it then.” Savanah looked at Rane, more worried than she wanted to admit. He looked pale, so pale. She stared at his chest. His breathing seemed shallow and labored. His hands were tightly clenched at his sides; tight lines of pain bracketed his mouth. She yearned to brush the hair from his brow, to wash the blood from his wounds, to kiss his hurts and make them better. “Hurry!”

Rafe glanced at the door and then at Savanah, a silent, none-too-subtle hint that she should take his advice and leave.

Savanah shook her head. “Forget it, I’m staying.”

“As you wish.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Rafe removed his jacket and tossed it aside, then rolled up his shirtsleeve. He slid a glance in Savanah’s direction and then, turning his back to her, he bit into a vein in his left wrist.

Moving closer to the bed, Savanah saw Rane’s nostrils twitch as the coppery scent of blood wafted through the air.

Lifting his brother’s head, Rafe held his wrist to Rane’s lips. “Drink, Rane.”

She watched in horrified fascination as Rane’s mouth closed over the bleeding wound.

She didn’t know how much time passed. It might have been a minute, it might have been an hour. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the two men on the bed. How had their parents ever told them apart? They appeared to be identical in every way.

After a time, Rafe drew his wrist away.

Savanah watched as he licked the wound, which healed instantly. And then she looked at Rane. As far as she could see, nothing had changed. His wounds, still oozing blood, looked raw and angry.

Moving up beside Rafe, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Did it work?”

“No.” Rising, he stared down at his brother. “We need Mara.”

“Then get her.”

“If I know Mara, she is already on her way.”

“But…how will she know to come here, that Rane needs her?”

“She’s our godmother. When we were born, she took blood from each of us so that she would always know where we were. She’ll know what has happened.” He looked at Savanah and smiled. “As you surmised, I am Rane’s brother, Raphael.”

“Savanah Gentry.”

“Gentry?” He shook his head. “No, it can’t be.”

“Excuse me?”

“There was a rather notorious hunter named Barbara Gentry a couple of decades ago.”

“She was my mother.”

Rafe’s gaze moved to his brother before settling on Savanah’s face again. “Forgive my impudence, but exactly what is your relationship to my brother?”

Savanah lifted her chin. “I love him.”

“I see. And he loves you.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

“Yes.”

Rafe nodded, his lips curving in wry amusement. “My folks will never believe this.”

Savanah felt suddenly light-headed. “Are they coming, too?” One Vampire, fine. His brother, okay. Add to that Rane’s parents and a Vampire rumored to be thousands of years old, and Savanah thought it might be time to crawl into a hole and pull the hole in after her.

“Rane said he hasn’t been in touch with any of you in years. How did you know where to find him?”

“We are more than brothers, more than twins. There is a blood link between us. While Rane was conscious and in control, he blocked it. But tonight…” Rafe looked at his brother. “Tonight I felt his pain, and I followed it. Why don’t you sit with him while I go dispose of the bodies?”

Relieved to be spared the gruesome task, Savanah sat on the edge of the bed and took Rane’s hand in hers. His skin felt cool and dry. What if nothing could be done to save him? What if even the infamous Mara couldn’t help?

“Fight, Rane,” she murmured. “You’ve got to be strong.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth. Would her blood help?

Savanah was debating whether to suggest it to Rafe when there was a change in the atmosphere. Her skin prickled, the hair raised along the back of her neck. Before she had time to be afraid, a woman appeared beside the bed.

It was Mara. Savanah knew it without being told. And then she frowned. How was it possible for the Vampire to enter the house without an invitation?

The woman didn’t spare a glance for Savanah. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she drew Rane into her arms. Lifting her sweater, she made a slit in her left breast with her thumbnail, then pressed Rane’s head to her bosom.

She didn’t have to tell him to drink.

Savanah stared at the scene before her. It was like something out of a horror movie, one Vampire feeding off another. She couldn’t stop watching, couldn’t take her eyes from Mara. Clad in a pair of skintight white pants and a black vee-necked sweater, Mara was the most beautiful creature Savanah had ever seen. Her hair fell down her slender back like a fall of black silk, long and thick. Her eyes were green, though green seemed too pale a word to describe them; her skin was pale and flawless; her lips pink and perfectly shaped.

A wave of jealousy rose up in Savanah’s heart as she watched Rane suckle at the other woman’s breast. It should have been her blood that nourished him, Savanah thought. She was the one who loved him, but apparently her mortal blood wasn’t good enough.

After what seemed like forever, Mara drew back. She kissed Rane on the forehead, then eased him down on the bed again and drew the covers over him. Only after rearranging her clothing did she acknowledge that there was anyone else in the room.

Rising, she turned her amazing green eyes on Savanah. “So,” she said, “you must be the princess.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“’Tis nothing,” Mara said with a wave of her hand.

“Is Rane going to be all right?” Savanah asked.

“Of course. He’s Nosferatu. He will rise in a few days.” Mara laid her hand on Rane’s brow, her own brow furrowed. “Holy water is like poison to us, but I had hoped…” She gave a toss of her head.

“Hoped what?” Rafe asked, stepping into the bedroom.

“That my blood would speed the healing process.”

“But he will get better, won’t he?” Savanah asked anxiously. In spite of their assurances, she wasn’t reassured at all.

“In time. And now,” Mara said, focusing her attention on Savanah once more, “tell me about you. Are you in love with him?”