Sam didn't resist until she felt cold metal on her wrist, and heard a familiar snick. But by the time she rolled, he'd already handcuffed her to the headboard.

"When it's over tomorrow night, Burke will come and release you." He stepped back, took one long, last look at her, and left.

Michael Cyprien tracked Faryl Paviere for fourteen hours before the sun and exhaustion forced him and Gard to take cover for the day in an empty, abandoned boathouse. He felt uneasy being away from Alexandra for so long, so he called a halt to the search. A pair of passing fishermen willingly provided nourishment and transportation back to where they had left their vehicle.

"I do not understand why he does not fashion a permanent lair for himself," Gard said as they drove back into the city. "It is as if he moves nightly. But why? Why has he not given himself to Lucan?"

"I cannot say, but we will find him." Michael felt as weary and defeated as Gard, but he could not air his own suspicions. If Faryl had lost the last of his humanity, then he would be living as an animal, attacking humans without discretion or restraint. He could not tell Gard that his brother would have to be executed the moment they found him.

Michael wished he could extend some mercy to Faryl, and permit Alexandra a chance to try to help him, but there was more at stake than the life of a Kyn gone mad. In the past, the American Darkyn had been able to manipulate detection of such changelings to make them seem like things of myth or hoaxes, which had resulted in such human legends as Sasquatch, the manitou, and the New Jersey Devil.

Times had changed, and humans had become more technologically advanced. In this age nearly everyone sported some form of digital recording device. Photos of Faryl in his changeling state could be taken with something as innocuous as a mobile phone.

Then there were the human authorities, who had become far more sophisticated in their quest to control crime. Compared to the devices available to private citizens, their surveillance equipment was the stuff of science fiction. Faryl would have to be caught and killed by whatever means were necessary, or the Darkyn risked exposure.

Michael's brooding thoughts shifted as he saw his seneschal running down the drive toward the car. There was only one thing that could have made Phillipe carry as many weapons as he did, or look so fearful.

"Alexandra. No." Michael slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car. "He has taken her?"

Phillipe stopped and nodded. "Last night. They shot the guards with tranquilizer darts. There was no warning."

Michael knew he should not have left her. Not after the way he had seen Lucan look at her. "Recall the men. Have you sent word to Orlando, Atlanta, New Orleans?"

His seneschal nodded. "Byrne is here and his men are prepared to fight. Locksley, his men, and ours are en route. Other jardins are standing by awaiting your summons. As we are, we will be fully assembled in three hours."

"We cannot march down the streets of Fort Lauderdale." Had they been in New Orleans, they might have used the underground tunnel system they had successfully built and concealed from the world for three centuries.

"Byrne came by sea, and has staged his men here." Phillipe gestured toward the marina across the street, every sloop of which was occupied by large, powerful boats. "He suggests the inland waterway, at midnight."

"There is to be a concert for the humans tonight." He remembered the posters advertising it plastered on the outside walls of the nightclub. "That should provide additional cover. Bring Byrne to me." He started to walk toward the house.

"Master, there is something else you must know." Phillipe caught up to him. "Éliane contacted me this morning. The high lord is here in South Florida. He is to attend this conceit tonight."

"Good." Michael didn't slow his stride. "Then he can watch me kill his bastard son."

Chapter 22

Lucan stepped into the security room, where Rafael was monitoring the hidden cameras that showed the interior of every room in the club as well as the exterior of the building. It was how he had watched Samantha break into the building.

Dawn was only minutes away, so it was unlikely that Michael would attack now. Still, there were any number of humans at the seigneur's command. "Any sign?"

"Nothing yet, my lord." His seneschal turned to face him. "Were you able to persuade Detective Brown to cooperate with us?"

Lucan didn't want to think of what he'd done to Samantha. "I left her handcuffed to her bed. If I die tomorrow night, do send Burke to release her. Who told Detective Brown about Frances?"

Rafael looked mystified. "Who is Frances?"

"It's not important." Another mystery to go unsolved. Lucan's life was rife with them.

"Cyprien will come with every Kyn he can recall," his seneschal warned him. "There is still time to end this."

No, there wasn't. "Be ready, Rafael."

Lucan took the stairwell up to the secured room where Alexandra was being held. A nurse sat dozing in the front room, so he closed the bedroom door behind him. Alex was not sleeping, and someone had thoughtfully replaced her gag.

He removed it. "Have you changed your mind?"

"What did you do to the cop?" she demanded.

"Before or after I raped her?" Even as he despised himself for uttering the ugly words, a perverse part of him enjoyed seeing her cringe away from him. "You should learn to curb your reaction to unpleasant realities, Alex. There are many among our kind."

"Did you tell the nurse to take a unit of blood from me?" When he nodded, she touched the place on her neck where he had bitten her. "Why not go au naturel again? You seemed to enjoy it enough last time."

"I drank a little of your blood to see if I could acquire some of your scent. Unfortunately yours doesn't seem to transfer through feeding, as ours does. I'll have to put a little from the bag on my skin before I face your lover tonight."

"He'll smell me on you. He'll think you…" She swore.

"Why do you think I went to all the trouble of taking you? You are my one advantage against him. Of course he'll smell you on me, and assume that I took you, blood, body, and soul." He pulled the covers she had kicked off up and over her. "You needn't worry, Alex. It's a well-known fact that I've never beaten Michael in a fight. Even wearing your blood on me, I rather doubt my luck will turn."

"Then why do this? He'll kill you. He'll make you suffer first."

"That is a certainty." He smiled down at her. "But a man should be able to choose the day he loses his head, don't you think?"

"You're more messed up than any vampire I've ever met, including Thierry Durand when he was insane, but you're not suicidal," she said immediately. "Call Michael; explain whatever this game is. Ask for another truce. He'll give you one."

"This is how these things have been done for centuries, Alex. You can't change the Kyn." He looked down to where she had wrapped her hand around his wrist. "You'd do well to remember that in the years to come."

Her pupils contracted to slits. "You didn't rape me, and I don't think you raped that cop. I saw how you looked at her. You don't even want to kill Michael. It's as if you're trying to…" Her eyes became huge. "Oh, my God."

He removed her hand from his arm. "When it's over, will you go to her and give her a message?"

"Her?" Dazed, Alex stared up at him. "You mean the cop?"

He nodded. "Her name is Samantha. Tell her that I loved Frances, not her. That everything I did to her was because of my love for Frances. She doesn't respond to l'attrait, so you'll have to make her believe it by words alone."

"That's stupid," Alex muttered. "Who is Frances, and why am I telling the cop this bullshit story?"

"Do you know, if you had come to me instead of Michael, I think I would have been just as lost in you. You are such a brilliant, beautiful thing." He rested his gloved hand against her cheek for a moment. "Will you tell her what I said?"

"Still need a why."

"Why." Lucan could say it, this once. "Because I love her, Alex."

Sam spent several hours trying to free herself without success. Despite her best efforts, she discovered what thousands of criminals already knew: that standard police-issue handcuffs were impossible to wedge, pry, or hammer open. Toward dawn she dozed, jerking awake when she heard any sounds from the floor below, but when she called out no one answered her.

She had to get to the nightclub and stop this thing Lucan had planned. How, she didn't know, but Alex Keller might help her. If she believed her, and if Sam could get her out of Lucan's chains, and if she could stop Michael Cyprien from killing Lucan… Sam jerked at the handcuffs again.

Nothing worked. After she'd inflicted a new set of bruises, Sam fell asleep, and didn't wake until late that afternoon, when she heard the door across the hall slam.

"Chris?" She sat up and drank some water to soothe her hoarse, dry throat, and then started shouting the girl's name.

"Sam?" Chris called back from outside her apartment door. "You okay?"

"No," she yelled. "Kick in the door."

"With all these dead bolts? Not hardly."

Sam looked frantically around the room, and then caught sight of her balcony, which was only two feet away from Keri's. Lucan had shattered the door last night. "Can you climb over from your balcony to mine? Be careful; there's a lot of broken glass out there."

"Okay. Hang on."

A few minutes later glass crunched, and then a disheveled Chris appeared at the sliding door. "Glad I'm not afraid of heights. Who broke your sliding glass"—she looked at Sam's handcuffed arm—"door?"

Sam sagged with relief. "The spare key's in my top dresser drawer. Get it for me, please."