Moments later, she was in the backseat of his car. Glancing out the window, she saw Morgana pacing back and forth in front of the gates.

Brenna stared out the window, unable to move. All too soon, Loken pulled up in front of his house. At his command, she followed the warlock into his home.

A cold chill slithered down her spine as he shut the door behind her.

"So," Myra said, "show me the results."

Still smiling smugly, the warlock pulled a small knife from his pocket.

Brenna stared from one to the other. Loken had sent Serafina home, leaving Brenna at the mercy of the witch and the warlock who now stood on either side of her. Once again, she was bound hand and foot to the bed in Anthony Loken's house.

She glanced out the window. It was still hours until sunset, hours before Roshan would know she was missing. With a start, she remembered him telling her that he might not rise this night, that he might linger in the Dark Sleep to heal his wounds. There was a very real possibility that he would not rise until tomorrow night.

And by then, it might be too late.

She jerked as Loken made a shallow gash down the length of her left arm. She stared at the blood welling from the wound, felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rise in her throat as she watched the crimson drops fall onto the towel that Loken had spread beneath her arm so as not to stain his sheets. Too bad Roshan wasn't here, she thought morbidly. It was a shame to let all that blood go to waste.

Loken looked at Myra. "Watch now," he said, and taking a damp cloth he wiped the blood from Brenna's arm.

Both witches leaned forward, their eyes fixed on the shallow gash that, even now, was starting to close.

"Amazing!" Myra exclaimed as the wound knit together. "Simply amazing."

She looked at Loken. "You're sure the elixir is safe?"

"Yes, but only for witches," Loken said. "I've tried it on half a dozen mortals. They all died rather quickly."

"I never thought you'd actually do it," Myra said. "Forgive me for doubting you."

"Think of it," Loken said, his voice rising with excitement "Immortality will be ours. We'll never grow old, never be sick! Imagine what other powers it might impart!"

"Perhaps," Myra said. "But how do you know the effects last? What if they wear off after a time?"

Loken shrugged. "I know the exact ratio of vampire blood to dead blood." He patted his pocket. "I have enough left for one injection."

"Just one?" Myra 's eyes narrowed. "And who will be the one to make use of it?"

"Patience, woman," Loken said. "Just hear me out. The sun is high in the sky. The vampire is trapped in sleep. I'll go to his lair and drain him dry, and then I'll destroy him. We'll have enough blood to make a hundred vials, perhaps a thousand."

"Do you plan to share this with the coven?" Myra asked.

Loken's gaze slid away from Myra 's. "That, of course, is up to you."

Brenna's gaze darted from Loken to Myra and back again. She had to warn Roshan, but how? Were the wards set on the entrance to his lair stronger than the ones on the gates? If not, he would be easy prey for Loken and Myra.

"Cut her again," Myra said. "Deeper this time."

Staring at the other woman, Brenna shook her head vigorously from side to side, unable to believe her ears. She had thought Myra was her friend. How could she have been so wrong?

Myra returned Brenna's gaze. "Have you something you wish to say to me?" She made a freeing gesture with her hand. "Speak then."

"How can you do this?" Brenna asked.

"I'm sorry, my dear, truly."

Brenna bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out as Loken made a deep gash in her right arm from her elbow to her wrist. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to be brave. But the pain was too great. She sobbed with pain and fear, her stomach churning as a river of bright red blood ran from the wound. What if it didn't heal this time? What if it did? How much blood could she safely lose? Already, the towel beneath her arm was soaked through.

Again, Loken wiped the blood away. "There! See!" he cried exultantly. "The wound is already starting to heal! Even without the promise of immortality, the elixir is worth its weight in gold. If it heals wounds, it will doubtless provide immunity to diseases, increase one's life span."

"But not yours."

Loken froze, all the color draining from his face as he stared at the gun that had appeared in Myra 's hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked hoarsely.

"You're too ambitious, Tony. There's no room in the coven for both of us any longer."

Loken held out one hand, his lips pulled back in a mockery of a smile. " Myra, what the hell are you talking about? We're in this together, remember. You and me."

"I've felt you breathing down my neck for months now. I know how badly you want to be the leader of our coven. I know how it galls you to take orders from a woman. I'm sure my future would be measured in days instead of years if this elixir of yours really works."

Loken shook his head. "No, Myra, you're wrong… "

She smiled. It was a look like death. "I'm never wrong, Tony. You should know that by now. Give me the vial in your pocket."

He took a step backward. " Myra, it doesn't have to be like this."

"Yes, I'm afraid it does." She held out her hand, then eased back the hammer on the gun. "The vial, please."

Brenna glanced from Myra to Loken, her stomach knotting.

With a shake of his head, Loken took another step backward. "If you want it, come and get it."

Myra laughed. "What do you hope to gain by stalling? A few more minutes of life? You fool! I can take it off your body if I have to."

"All right, all right" Conceding defeat, Loken reached into his coat pocket.

"Slowly!" Myra admonished.

Eyes glittering with hatred, Loken's hand delved into his pocket.

And then, in a blur of motion almost too quick to follow, he raised both hands. One held the vial, the other held the knife he had used on Brenna. A single drop of blood glistened on the tip of the blade.

With a shout, he flung the knife at Myra. Myra let out a shriek. She reeled back as the blade buried itself to the hilt in her chest. Her arm dropped, her finger convulsively squeezing the trigger.

Brenna screamed as white-hot pain exploded through her side.

Myra hit the wall. She stared at the knife protruding from her heart, her eyes wide with disbelief, and then, as her strength began to wane, she slid slowly to the floor, the pistol still dangling from her hand.

"The elixir… " she said, gasping for breath. "Give it… to… "

Her body went slack, her head lolling forward.

"You were right, Myra," Loken said. "The coven isn't big enough for both of us." He laughed as he held the vial up to the light. "I'm invincible now!" he crowed. "I'll be the most powerful warlock the world has ever seen!"

Blowing out a deep breath, Loken put the vial on the table beside the bed.

All he had to do now was coax the location of the vampire's resting place from the girl, and then he would dispose of her body and Myra 's. He'd have to come up with a good story to tell the witches at the coven, he thought, staring at the vial, something to explain Myra 's abrupt absence from the city, but he would worry about that later.

He glanced at Brenna. She seemed to be asleep. She was a pretty little thing. Too bad she had to die. With a grimace, he looked at Myra. There was nothing pretty about death, he mused. The sooner he got her out of his bedroom, the better. He couldn't just drag her through the house, not without getting blood on the carpets. He thought a moment, then left the room, bound for the garage. He had some large plastic sheeting there. He'd roll her into the plastic and put her in the basement while he searched his spell book for an invocation that would make a body disappear without a trace. Where Myra was concerned, he didn't want any evidence of her death, not even ashes.

Brenna opened her eyes a crack when she heard the door close. Loken was gone, but for how long? She glanced at the dead witch. Myra lay sprawled against the wall like a pile of dirty laundry. Brenna shivered. How long would Loken leave Myra 's body lying there? The witch's evil lingered in the room, a dark miasma that was almost tangible. Brenna imagined Myra 's spirit hovering over her in a vain effort to steal the last of her life's breath, her ghostly fingers clawing at her arms and legs as Myra tried to veil her spirit in flesh once more.

Brenna looked out the window, willing the sun to set, the night to come quickly. She felt herself growing weaker with each breath. And then she looked at her arm. Blood still oozed from the wound. It wasn't healing. She could feel more blood dripping from the gunshot wound in her side. Roshan had been right. The effects were only temporary.

Please. She sent a silent prayer toward heaven. Please let me see him one more time…

How could she die without hearing his voice, seeing his face? Please, one last kiss to warm me through eternity.

"Roshan, come to me… "

CHAPTER 26

As he had every evening for the past two hundred and eighty-six years, Roshan woke with the setting of the sun. But on this night, he didn't rise immediately. Instead, he lay still, taking inventory of his injuries. He felt only marginally better than he had the night before. He hoped Brenna would forgive him for rising just long enough to feed. Though he yearned to see her, be with her, he knew that on this night, he needed blood. And rest. In that order. He would make it up to her tomorrow night.

Closing his eyes, he let his preternatural senses search the house. She wasn't preparing her dinner in the kitchen, she wasn't curled up in a chair in the living room, reading, nor was she anywhere upstairs. He expanded his senses to search the grounds. She was not walking in the gardens, or sitting on the stone bench. Where was she?

A shiver of alarm slid down his spine. Surely, she hadn't been foolish enough to leave the house?