"I know you could," she said. "If that vampire could erase a whole day from Alex's mind, then he could just as easily plant thoughts in his head that weren't his, couldn't he? Couldn't you?"

"I would never do that to you," Erik said quietly.

"But you could?"

"If I wished."

"Promise me. Promise me you'll never do it."

"Very well. I swear it by the love I held for my wife and my children. And by my love for you."

Emotion clogged her throat, making words impossible.

"Sleep now," he said, wrapping her in his arms. "Nothing will hurt you while I'm here."

Yawning, she closed her eyes and snuggled against him. Moments later, she was asleep. Her trust in him was a rare gift, one he wasn't sure he deserved. Like all vampires, he tended to think only of himself, partly out of necessity to ensure his safety in a world that saw him only as evil, partly because it was so easy to forget that he had once been a frail human himself.

Erik brushed a kiss across Daisy's brow. Which of them was the more foolish, he mused.

The woman, for believing he would keep his word?

Or the vampire, for giving it?

Tomas Villagrande sat atop the city's highest hill. It afforded him a panoramic view of Boston Harbor and Dorchester Bay. He had always loved the ocean. Not surprising, he thought, since he had been a pirate in his youth. In life or undeath, he had lived near the water and owned a ship whenever possible. Boats made unique lairs. He could be ready to move at a moment's notice. No packing involved. Just weigh anchor and be gone.

He had lived in Boston off and on since the early 1850s, back when Fort Warren was being built out on Georges Island. So many years ago, he mused, and yet it seemed like yesterday. But then, time moved differently for his kind.

He had seen much in the course of his long existence. The rise and fall of kings and countries, the decline of nations, devastating plagues and wars without end. Fashions changed. Language changed. Customs changed. But his view of the world remained colored by the era in which he had been born. He had grown up in a time of war and conquest, when men ruled the world and women were little more than pawns, good for providing heirs or cementing alliances with foreign powers. Ah, how times had changed.

He gazed at the moonlight playing over the water and thought about the events of the day. He had been surprised when the hunters showed up. The fact that they had found him made him think it was time to move on, maybe go down to Florida for a while, though the idea held little appeal. There were far too many retired people in the area. Too much old blood. Perhaps New York City, then. The streets were always crowded with tourists, wealthy young men and women eagerly looking for adventure and excitement. Tomas grinned inwardly. He could give them that and more.

He nodded. Yes, tomorrow night he would weigh anchor and head north. It had been a while since he had looked in on those who owed him their allegiance.

And what of Erik Delacourt? What was he doing in Boston? And why hadn't he made his presence known when he arrived, as was proper? It was considered bad form for a vampire to enter a city without obtaining the permission of the Master of the City. But that wasn't the most unusual thing. The big question was, what was a vampire doing associating with vampire hunters? The answer was the woman, of course.

Tomas grinned inwardly. In spite of what he had said about love being an overrated emotion, he had always had a soft spot for young lovers.

His thoughts shifted to the Master of the West Coast vampires. Did Rhys Costain know one of his vampires was protecting hunters? Tomas frowned as a troubling thought occurred to him. What if it was Costain who had sent the hunters? What if Delacourt had shown up to make certain the hunters had done their job?

Vampire, trust no one.

Tomas rubbed a hand over his jaw. Those had been the last words his sire had spoken to him before they parted ways centuries ago, and Tomas had taken them to heart. Was Costain planning some kind of coup? He wouldn't be the first of their breed to want to expand his territory. For eons, vampires had fought for territory. Currently, there were five vampires who claimed sections of the United States as their own. Costain ruled the Western states, Tomas ruled the East. A vampire known as Volger ruled the Midwest; Tristan claimed the North; the South belonged to Morag, one of the oldest female vampires in existence. Other vampires laid claim to the rest of the world. Tomas knew most of them; none were older than he.

His thoughts turned to Costain again. Ruling both the West Coast and the East would be a formidable task. Delacourt was known to be good friends with Costain. Perhaps Costain planned to install his second in command as the new Master of the East Coast.

Tomas frowned into the darkness. Would he be wiser to get in touch with Costain now, or wait until he had more to go on than mere supposition?

Tomas grunted softly. He had sensed Delacourt's power. In another century or two, Delacourt would be a vampire to be reckoned with, even for one as ancient as Tomas himself. He wondered briefly who had sired Costain's friend. Someone extremely powerful, of that there was no doubt.

He lifted his head and drank in the scent of the sea, and with it, the scent of prey. A young man, wandering alone by the shore, unaware of the danger he was in.

Tomas breathed in the lush scent of blood. No need to make a decision tonight. If there was one thing he had learned in his long years as a vampire, it was patience.

His fangs lengthened in response to the lure of hot, fresh, young blood. He had done a good deed today in allowing two hunters to live. Surely he deserved a reward.

"I like being me." Daisy stared at Erik, ashamed of the pleading note in her voice, hating the fear that made her heart pound like a trip hammer. But it was hard not to be afraid when he was looking at her like that, his dark eyes red and glowing, his lips curled back to reveal gleaming white fangs. "Don't," she whimpered. "Please, don't. You promised..."

"You won't be any different," he said, and she heard the lie in his voice. "You'll still be Daisy O'Donnell."

She shook her head. "No." She was crying now, tears scalding her eyes and burning her cheeks as he stalked toward her. A long black cape billowed behind him.

She glanced around the room frantically, searching for a weapon, but the room was completely empty save for the two of them. A distant part of her mind wondered where they were, and then he was a hairsbreadth away, looming above her like the angel of death. Frozen in terror, she could only stare at him as his arm snaked out to curl around her waist, drawing her body against his. His cloak enveloped them, a smothering cocoon.

"Nothing to be afraid of," he said as he bent his head to her neck. "Nothing at all..."

She woke with a startled cry. Erik lay beside her. Propped on one elbow, he looked at her, his expression faintly worried.

As though on its own, the bedside lamp came on.

"Are you all right?" Erik asked.

She stared at him, her heart pounding. Was she awake? She lifted a hand to her throat, relieved that there were no telltale bites.

"Daisy?"

As her gaze darted around the room, she was relieved to see she was in her own bedroom, in her own bed. "I...I had a bad dream."

"I'm here. There's no need to be afraid."

His words sent a shiver down her spine. Nothing to be afraid of.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked.

"No." She shuddered at the memory. "I just want to forget it."

He brushed a lock of damp hair from her cheek. "Go back to sleep. It's hours until dawn."

"I don't know if I can. Tell me more about you, about your life."

"What do you want to know?"

"What's it really like, being what you are?"

"It can be interesting. I've seen much of history in the making. The rise and fall of empires. New inventions. New diseases. Endless wars. I've traveled the world numerous times." He had hunted the famous and the infamous, known great men, courted beautiful women. "As I said, it can be interesting. It can also be incredibly tedious, watching the world change while you stay the same, moving every twenty years or so before people begin to realize that you don't age. It's exciting at first, moving from place to place, learning how to use all your remarkable powers, but after a while..."

"Go on."

"After the novelty wears off, you just want what everyone else wants. A place to settle down. Someone to love."

"I've never heard of any vampires staying together. I mean, how does that work, with the whole territorial thing?"

"Bonded vampires can coexist in the same territory."

Thinking of vampires brought Rhys to mind. "How many vampires are there on the West Coast?"

"I'm not sure. Three or four hundred, I imagine."

"That many?"

"It's only a guess."

"And they all answer to Rhys?"

Erik nodded. "To live in the area, one must swear allegiance to him."

She considered that a moment. "You've broken faith with him, haven't you? Because of me."

"Yes, although he doesn't know it, at least not yet." Thoughts of Tomas Villagrande rose in his mind. Had Villagrande contacted Rhys? "There's no law against leaving the city, although vampire etiquette dictates that I should have told him first."

"Do you think Rhys is still looking for us?"

"I don't know. I should probably go back to LA and find out what's going on."

Daisy started to protest, but yawned instead.

He slid his arm under her shoulders and drew her up against his side. "Go to sleep, my little flower."

"You won't leave Boston without telling me?"

"No." His gaze moved over her face. The thought of being away from her for even a day was almost unbearable. "Sleep, my love, there won't be any more bad dreams tonight."

She looked up at him, her beautiful green eyes filled with trust. A moment later, she was asleep.