Brenna sat in the window seat in the bedroom, brushing out her hair, her brow furrowed. "I didn't know there was another vampire in the city." She looked up at her husband. "You knew, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me?"

"There was nothing to tell. I sensed his presence once before." He didn't tell her he had sensed it here, in the house, in their daughter's bedroom.

"Do you think he means her harm?"

"No, I think he loves her."

"And she loves him," Brenna said. "You can tell that just by looking at her. Do you think she knows what he is?"

"No, I'm sure she doesn't."

"Maybe you should tell her, before things go too far. I don't want her to be hurt."

Roshan nodded. "You're probably right, but how do I tell her he's a vampire? And how would I explain how I know?" He shook his head. "Whoever thought parenting would be so complicated?"

"What if they decide to get married?"

Roshan swore softly. His little girl, married to a vampire? He didn't know of too many successful unions between vampires and mortals. In most cases, the differences between them drove them apart sooner or later. He raked a hand through his hair. Cara, married. Whether she married a vampire or a mortal, it meant losing her.

"I always wanted grandchildren," Brenna remarked. "Lots and lots of grandchildren. If she marries Vince..."

He nodded his understanding. If Cara married Vince, there would be no children, no grandchildren.

He looked at Brenna. Each year, she grew more precious, more beautiful in his sight. He hadn't missed the wistful note in her voice as she spoke of grandchildren. After all these years, was she having regrets for joining her life with his?

Brenna blew out a sigh. "Funny how our lives have changed so quickly in the last few days."

"And I'm afraid the end isn't in sight." Moving toward her, he drew her to her feet and into his arms. "Do you have regrets, Brenna?"

"What do you mean?"

"I watched you tonight, when you were asking Cordova about his family. I saw the yearning in your eyes when he talked about his family, and just now, when you spoke of grandchildren."

She didn't deny it.

"It made me think of something you said before I brought you across," Roshan went on. "You said being a vampire seemed like a lonely life. And then you said, 'What good is long life without love, without family, without children?'"

"But we have a child," she reminded him with a wry grin.

"Is she enough? Was I wrong to bring you across?"

Brenna stared into her husband's eyes. For the first time since he had brought her across, she let herself remember that night. At first, she had been horrified. She had screamed at him, then ran through house, destroying everything in sight-lamps, chairs, tables, dishes, glasses, she had smashed them all and reveled in the doing. Refusing to believe she was a vampire, she had taken a bite of chocolate pie, and been violently ill. She had begged him to destroy her, and when he refused, she had run away from him.

She ran tirelessly, amazed at her stamina. No wonder Anthony Loken had wanted the power of a vampire for himself! She felt as though she could run forever and never stop, never grow weary.

Her body felt strong, yet lighter than air. Was that because she had shed her mortality, or because she had shed her soul?

The thought gave her pause and she slowed to a walk. Had she lost her soul? She considered that as she made her way across a bridge into a park. Why should she have lost her soul? She' had done nothing wrong. She hadn't asked to be made a vampire; that decision had been made for her. She hadn't killed anyone. True, she had stolen a little blood, but surely she could be forgiven for that, if forgiveness was necessary...

She stopped beneath a weeping willow tree, lightly rolling one of the leaves between her thumb and forefinger, amazed at all the nuances in the texture of the leaf. How beautiful the tree was!

She could hear the whisper of each leaf, hear the sap running through the branches, the creak of the wood as the tree swayed in the breeze. Everything was different when absorbed through her enhanced senses. No wonder Roshan didn't want to give it up. Except for the blood part, being a vampire seemed a wonderful thing.

She picked up her pace until she was running again. Never, in all her life, had she felt so wonderful, so free! Laughter bubbled up inside her. Why had she made such a fuss earlier? Would she truly rather be dead now? How awful it would be if she could never again catch the scent of rain in the air, or dance in the silvery light of a full moon. And what of Roshan? Would she be happy, even in heaven, if he were not there to share it with her?

She slowed as she reached the end of the park, her earlier enthusiasm waning. She would never have a child now. It was the only true regret she had. Of course, she thought, rationalizing, if he had let her die, she wouldn't have been able to have a child, either.

Roshan. She had spared a thought for little else since the first time she had seen him outside her cottage, and he was all she could think of now. His scent was in her clothes, in her hair. His voice was a welcome echo in her mind, his kisses a memory she would never forget. Roshan. He had told her, in word and deed, that he laved her. And she knew, without doubt, that she laved him.

Perhaps she had loved him from the moment his eyes met hers.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, to feel his lips on hers, to hear his voice whispering that he loved her.

Laughing out loud, she turned and ran toward Roshan. Toward home.

"No," she said, "you weren't wrong. I've never regretted a minute of our lives together." She caressed his cheek. "What's this all about? It's more than being worried about Cara."

He shrugged. "I just want you to be happy. Both of you."

"I am happy." She smiled up at him. "I can only think of one thing that would make me happier."

"Indeed?" He brushed a kiss across her cheek. "And what would that be?"

"Don't you know?"

"Maybe I just want to hear you say it."

"Maybe I'll just show you instead," she purred, and reached for his belt buckle.