Chapter Four


Ethan had watched the reactions cross Lilith's beautiful face as he'd revealed, bit by bit, the truth to her.

First there had been confusion, followed quickly by amusement when she finally got the gist of what he was trying to tell her but thought he was making a joke.

But even then there had been something more, something lying beneath it all. Some instinctive, living part of her being that recognized the truth when she heard it. And as he went on, slowly, ruthlessly convincing her, showing her, her expression had turned to one of disbelief and then, as she gaped at the glass, to one of horror.

As the mirror fell, her body sank heavily, all at once, onto the sofa. She didn't fall, but she didn't sit down, either. She just let go, landing hard on the cushions, her head hanging, eyes unfocused, gazing at nothing.

"Lilith" he began, as he moved closer, knelt in front of her, wished he could have found an easier way to tell her what she was.

"I knew," she whispered. "I mean, part of me knew. It didn't even sound untrue when you said it." Then she snapped her gaze up to his, focusing at last, "How did you know? Do you know me, Ethan?"

He averted his eyes. "Vampires can sense other vampires. I knew what you were before I ever set eyes on you in the stable. What I didn't know was whether you had come here to kill me."

"You keep saying that. Why?" she asked.

He sat in the chair again and let his own head fall forward, as he rubbed the back of his neck and wrestled with his conscience. How much should he tell her? Because the thing was, he did know her.

Though they'd had almost no interaction at The Farm, he knew her. He'd watched her, seen her, learned her nature. Her reaction, once she remembered, was as predictable as her need for blood, her aversion to sunlight.

She would go back. He knew she would.

"I need to know," Lilith said softly. "If there are vampires out there hunting down and killing other vampires, then don't you think I need to know?"

"You'll be safe as long as you stay here." His head came up then, and he plumbed her eyes and her mind at once. "And as long as you aren't lying to me."

"I've told you everything that's happened since I woke up beneath that bridge. It feels to me as if were born in that moment."

He tipped his head to one side, ran a hand over his chin. "I suspect you were."

"What do you mean?"

"I believe, Lilith, that you were made over into a vampire, just prior to this sleep. I think it likely that you awoke to your new life tonight for the very first time."

"Do vampires normally forget everything that came before?"

He shrugged. "I didn't. And I've never exactly known any other vampires."

She flinched when he said that, her head jerking slightly to the left, as her eyes squeezed tight.

"What? What is it?"

Brows furrowed, she pinched the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger. "A flash, maybe. I don't know."

"A memory?"

She opened her eyes and speared him with her steady gaze. "I saw a personat least I think it was a person, though it looked more like a decomposing corpse. It was chained to a wall, and I felt its agony.

And that was all."

He tipped his head to one side, studying her and wondering what horrors she had seen at The Farm that he had not.

"Do you know what it could mean?" she asked.

He shook his head slowly. "No, I don't."

"What do you know about our kind?"

How could he answer that? He only knew The Chosenthe captives who, like the two of them, had been raised at The Farm. Everything he knew of vampires had been taught to him by The Keepers. And he didn't trust themhe never had. But as he thought it over, he wondered. If amnesia was a common aftereffect of being made over, that would explain why he'd never heard from James in all this time.

Maybe his brother didn't remember him.

"But then, why all the training and education? Why teach us things we're only going to forget?" he muttered.

"What are you talking about?"

He snapped his gaze back to hers, aware he'd journeyed deeply into his own mind. "Nothing," he said.

"Just thinking aloud."

"Oh." She stiffened her spine. "That's not the only flash of memory I've had," she told him.

He looked at her and tried not to show her that the revelation startled him a bit. Hell, it wasn't as if he honestly wished her memory were gone forever. He just needed some time to figure things out.

"I remember kissingor being kissed bya man." She blinked, but didn't avert her eyes from his. "It felt like you."

"But we've only just met," he told her.

"Have we?"

Clearing his throat, he got to his feet, feeling fidgety. "I need to go back to the stables. I was on my way to tend the horses when I found you."

She nodded, then turned her back to him and walked toward the fireplace, leaning one hand on the mantle, lowering her head so that her hair fell like as suddenly as a curtain falling across a stage. It was as if she were already alone in the room.

"You can come with me, if you like."

Without moving at all, she said, "I'll stay, if you don't mind. I have a lot to process."

"All right." He started for the door, then paused, because he hadn't covered half what he needed to. And he wasn't certain how he could, not without revealing everything, something he wasn't confident enough of her motives to do yet. "Lilith, that car you encounteredthe Escalade. Are you sure it didn't follow you here?"

"I'm sure."

Two words. He hoped she meant them. "If you need me" he began.

"I'll open the door and shout."

No need. Just shout at me with your mind. I'll hear you.

Her head rose slowly, and she turned toward him, blinking in surprise. "You will?"

Now that she was looking at him, she would know for sure he wasn't speaking aloud. This was a skill she needed, and one of the easiest to masterover short distances, at least, and with a willing partner.

It's one of the benefits of being what we are, Lilith. He spoke to her clearly, without saying a word, and as she watched, her eyes sharpened with interest. One of many, he added. It's not a bad thing, being immortal. Not at all.

As he watched her closely, she closed her eyes, and then he heard her thinking, But we aren't really immortal, are we?

He smiled. "It depends on how we define the word, I suppose," he said aloud. "Take care around the fire."

She smiled, apparently pleased that he'd heard and answered her question. That she could speak to him with no more than a thought. He actually thought there might have a been a glimmer of the old light in her eyes.

"Thank you for taking me in, Ethan."

"You're very welcome," he said. And he meant it.

Because, after all, Lilith was the only thing about The Farm that he'd regretted leaving behind. He'd thought of her so much that he'd been unable to keep himself from buying the Waterhouse print when he'd seen it. Because it reminded him of her. Of Lilith. She'd been nineteen when he'd left, and already notorious. Everyone knew who she was.

She was the one they couldn't break. She was the one who would rather die than submit. She was the voice of his conscience whenever he closed his eyes long enough to listen. She was the face he couldn't stop seeing in his mind, the name he heard on the wind.

She was the one kiss he had never been able to forget.

He hadn't named her Lilith because she reminded him of the print. He'd bought the print because it reminded him of her, right down to her name.

She was Lilith.

And somehow, she had found him.

He was going to have to make her tell him how.

21 Years Ago

The taxi dropped Serena off in front of a cracker box house in a neighborhood full of cracker box houses and pulled away. She'd never felt more alone.

It wasn't a new sensation, of course. Serena had always been alone. She'd been orphaned at nineteen and had been making her own way ever since, waiting tables at the Broadway Grill, living in her tiny apartment in the low rent district. On her own. That was how it had always been. The one-night stand that had resulted in the pregnancy had been just that. A one-night stand. A stranger in a bar on a particularly bad night when she'd been too depressed to want to go to bed alone. She didn't even know his name.

But for the last nine months, she hadn't felt lonely at all. She'd had her baby daughter growing inside her.

She'd talked to her. She'd laughed with her. She'd sung to her and read her stories. Then she'd given birth to herand someone had stolen her away.

It wasn't fair.

She'd briefly considered going back to her own apartment. Her own job. Her own life. Until she'd seen the one person who had tried to help her blown to bits in her own car.

Now Serena was scared. She was angry, and she was grieving the loss of her baby, but fear had layered itself over both those emotions. She'd given her name and address, her employer and insurance information, when she'd checked into the hospital. She wasn't going back home, not until she knew exactly what was going on. It might not be safe.

So she stood in front of the little house staring down at the key chain from the knapsack and wondered briefly if this had been Maureen Keenan's home. If it was, and if Maureen had been killed because she'd tried to help her, then wouldn't those dark killers know where she lived? Wouldn't they be watching?

Serena turned, and looked around. There were other houses just like this one lining both sides of the smooth, narrow, perfectly paved road. There were little maple trees spaced at regular intervals along both sides. There was a sidewalk unrolling in front of the houses, not a chip or a crack in it.

A few cars were parked in a few driveways. None along the curb. None with anyone lurking inside.

There were swing sets and tricycles in several yards. The place looked for all the world like a cozy, friendly, safe little neighborhood. No faces peered out through parted curtains as far as she could see.

Maybe it would be safe to go inside.

Drawing a breath, she went up the perfect little sidewalk to the front door, knocked and awaited an answer that never came. So, with hands that trembled, she slipped the key into the lock, turned it and opened the door.

The house was dark, but it wasn't empty. She didn't know why no one had answered the door, but she could feel another's presence. And along with that feeling, there were the aromas. She smelled something hot and rich, and her stomach growled.

She looked through the darkened room she had entered to the rectangle of light that was an open doorway at the far end. A woman's form stepped into that opening, no more than a dark silhouette.

"Serena?" the shadow asked softly, but the tone of her voice said she already knew.

"Yes."

"And where is Maureen?"

Serena got the feeling that the faceless woman already knew what her response to that question would be, as well. "I got off the bus where she told me. And she was there, in her car, and she waved to me"

She spoke faster than she should have, her tempo increasing as she went on. "I started to cross the street, and then her car, it justit justexploded. And she was she was gone. She was just gone, and I couldn't"

Her throat closed too tightly to let her go on, and she tipped her head back, eyes focused on the ceiling as she tried to swallow, tried not to just burst into the hysterical tears she felt pushing at the gates to get through.

She heard the woman's footsteps coming closer. Felt a hand on her shoulder and lowered her head to see a pair of kind eyes brimming with tears, an attractive face with full lips that trembled and high cheekbones that seemed pale in the insufficient light.

"I'm so sorry," Serena said, and sniffled hard. "She was your friend, wasn't she?"

"She was more than a friend. She was a sister. Not by blood, but well, hell, you'll understand soon enough."

"Why was she killed?" Serena's stomach clenched, and she tried to quell the sickness writhing inside her.

"Was it because she tried to help me?"

"She knew exactly what she was risking, Serena." The stranger squeezed Serena's shoulder and spoke these words firmly, as if they were very important. "This this situation is way bigger than just you or your baby. You bear no responsibility for what happened to Maureen. Even if she had known what the outcome would be, she would have done exactly the same thing."

Serena lowered her head and let the tears flow. "I'm so confused. I don't know what's going on.

Where's my baby? Why would someone take her? Why would they kill an innocent nurse?"

"I know all this is overwhelming to you right now. But I'm going to explain everything, I promise. Just not here."

"We have to go?" Serena knew her tone was whiney, and yet she couldn't help herself. "But I'm so tired."

"I know. I've made you soup and a sandwich to eat on the way. This is a safehouse, but we can't risk that you might have been followed. My car's in the garage. This way."

The woman took Serena's arm and led her to the kitchen, where the stranger picked up a Thermos, and a zipper bag with a sandwich and a spoon tucked inside.

"Grab something to drink from the fridge, and then we'll get out of here," she instructed.

Serena opened the refrigerator, which was well-stocked, as if someone lived here. Maybe someone did.

Or had. She pulled out two bottles of diet cola and closed the fridge again. The woman was opening a door, and beyond it Serena saw the garage and a blue compact car.

"Come on."

"No." Serena stood where she was, finding her spine and her courage at last. "No, not until you fell me."

Nodding, the woman asked, "What would you like to know?"

Serena frowned as her mind raced. "Something. Anything. Where we're going. Who's after us. Where my baby is. Even your freaking name. Tell me something, for God's sake."

The woman's face softened. She was perhaps thirty, Serena thought. Brunette hair in a silky, mink-like ponytail. Brown doe's eyes beneath perfectly arched brows, and skin like a fresh peach, devoid of makeup.

"Terry. My name's Terry. I'm part of a a secret society, I guess you'd call it. The Sisterhood of Athena.

We we watch, and almost never interfere. But when things go wrong, we step in to set them right again.

Maureen was one of us."

"You watch ?"

"Yes."

"You watch what?" Serena asked.

Terry pressed her lips tight, as if deciding which words to allow passage. "Your baby wasisspecial, Serena. She was born with a very rare antigen in her blood."

Serena remembered the file she had read. There had been something about an antigen. "Belladonna," she said, trying out the word for the first time.

"Yes. Belladonna. People who are born with the Belladonna Antigen have special qualities. It's complicated, and it's something you need to hear about, but later, when we have more time, and when we're sure we're safe. But for now, all you need to know is that babies and young children with the antigen have been disappearing at an alarming rate for the past five years. And in most cases, their parents have been killed."

Serena felt her eyes widen, her heart skip. "Murdered?"

Terry nodded once. "Usually it looks like an accident. Car wrecks. Plane crashes. Carbon monoxide leaks. House fires. Deadly falls from dangerous cliffs. Drownings. But it's happened too many times for it to be coincidence. So we've placed some of our members in various placeshospitals, doctor's offices, child protective agenciesunder cover, just to watch and wait. And when someone mentions the antigen, we try to get to the mother and the baby before it's too late. Maureen wanted to get to you before they took your baby, but the best she could do was get to you before they arranged some accident that would take your life."

Serena watched Terry's face while she spoke. The things said the woman was saying didn't make a lot of sense, but she believed them. Maureen had believed them. She'd died because of them. How could Serena doubt?

"So where are you taking me?"

Terry put her hand on Serena's shoulder. "Someplace safe."

"Is it far? I mean, I can't go far. I need to find my baby."

Terry lowered her eyes, and her voice softened by degrees. "If you choose to stay with us, we'll help you search for your baby, Serena. We have more resources, more connections a much better chance than you would ever have alone. But it would mean giving up everything you've known before. Joining the Sisterhood means being reborn. You'll have a new family, a new life. Your past will be lost to you forever."

Serena pondered briefly before asking, "Have you found any of the other children who've been taken?"

"No. Not yet. But we're getting closer all the time."

"Oh." A wave of disappointment nearly drowned her, but she managed to push it aside. "Then I don't know." . "You don't have to make a decision now. You can spend a few days with us, learn a little bit more about what we do and why, and then you can decide. If you want to leave, you can. But the truth is, you're not safe here. And we have to go. Now."

Serena nodded. "All right."

She followed Terry to the little blue car. Terry started the engine, thumbed a button to open the garage door and then backed out, looking both ways. As she drove, she checked the rearview mirror almost constantly.

"Go ahead and eat," Terry said at length. "You need your strength, and besides, it'll settle your nerves."

She nodded at the Thermos and sandwich she had placed in the console between them. Their drinks were in the cup holders.

Serena twisted open the Thermos and poured some of the steaming hot chicken soup into the cup. Then she sipped, and it soothed her stomach, eased the tension in her spine and even the ache in her heart a little bit, so she sipped some more. When she finished the first cupful, she filled it a second time and downed that, as well.

And with every sip her anxiety eased a bit. She sank into her seat, let her head rest against the back as she swallowed the last of the soup and replaced the cup.

Her eyes felt heavy. She let them fall closed, then opened them abruptly as a wave of gentle relaxation washed through her brain.

Frowning, she looked toward Serena. "Was there did you put something in the soup?"

"Yes. Nothing harmful. But we're going to the Sisterhood's headquarters, and it's not permitted for outsiders to know where that is. No matter what. So you're going to sleep now. You need it anyway, Serena. And when you wake, you'll be in a beautiful, safe haven, surrounded by women who would give their lives for each otherand who would give their lives to help you find your baby, as well."

There couldn't be any such place or any such people, Serena thought. No one could possibly care that much about someone they didn't even know.

Could they?

She let her heavy lids fall closed and prayed that they could.