CHRIS

He knew that he didn’t belong here. He should have been off somewhere studying for the SATs. He should have had some normal kind of life with friends his own age, a social life that involved parties and stupid kid stuff. He shouldn’t have been here, a monster hunting other monsters, wondering if he was going to live to see tomorrow.

He could feel the tension radiating from Dezi. Could feel the way her bones practically vibrated from all of the restrained emotion.

She hadn’t wanted him to come, and frankly he didn’t really want to be here either, but he couldn’t bear the thought that he might never see her again. That she might die and just sort of disappear out of his life, here, then gone, no transition, no chance to say good-bye.

That was why he was here. He knew that he wasn’t much use in a fight, was pretty much useless, especially against someone as strong as Magnus. It was just that he couldn’t leave her here alone, it just wasn’t in him.

Chris raked a hand through his hair and consciously tried to turn his thoughts to brighter things. It was impossible.

He had no idea how he had ended up here. It just seemed that events had taken on a life of their own and things had just started happening with no seeming reason. He thought that maybe Lianndra was about as puzzled as he was. Everything that had happened was totally from left field. Just a long string of weirdness.

All he could do was hold on and hope for the best. And all he could really hope for was that he would somehow manage to survive the night.

He was young, young and healthy, and no matter how afraid he got, it was hard for him to imagine death. The complete finality of being dead. He was only seventeen. His whole life was spread out before him and had only been lengthened by the change from mortal to vampire. He had the possibility of thousands of years to live.

He could hope to see the third or fourth or fifth milleniums, not just the second. He could hope to count his life in decades rather than years. It might even get to the point where he would see centuries as moments speeding past him, though he shuddered a little from the thought of living so long that the people he met were like playthings.

Now he was heading into a danger that he barely understood. He was afraid, but maybe he wasn’t afraid enough.

His new thought processes pondered such wonderfully deep things and came up with a big fat zero for answers. All he could do, given his total and complete lack of skills, was to react to any given situation and hope for the best. That Lianndra and Dezi would know what to do and that he would survive the night.

Chris chewed his lip and hoped that Dezi would say something, anything, to distract him from his thoughts. She held stubbornly silent, just giving off her tension vibes and making him more and more nervous.

CHRISTINE

Her life had gone completely insane.

Here she was, locked in an apartment with a sadomasochistic bunch of men that she didn’t even know. And why was she here? She had fallen in love with a child.

While he was with her, she had looked into Lianndra’s eyes and seen only his soul. That shining thing that wielded more power than she could even imagine the use of. Now, with him gone somewhere, her mind drew her a picture of him that included his child’s body.

She could see the delicate blue tracery of veins under his snow-white skin. Could see the fragileness of the bones of his face, the vulnerable chin and wide eyes. And though those eyes were almost frighteningly knowledgeable, they were in the face of a child, beautiful and delicately made. She still felt the drawing of his power, the complete willpower-stealing splendor of his SoulLight. But she also realized that he wore the body of a child and could never be what her body craved of him.

Already she felt the changes in herself. The changes her mother had explained when she had hit that magical thirteenth year.

She was a Maiden-candidate, which meant that someday she would be the Mother. And the Mother was expected to mate with the most powerful of the males, would be drawn to him with a fury unmatched by anything else. And though she wasn’t the Maiden yet, she was experiencing the drawing of the Mother-force within her. She held all of the possibility of that position and it showed in the way she was automatically drawn to the most powerful masculine magical force.

Which happened to be wearing the body of a seven-year old.

Christine buried her face in her hands and felt tears seep out from under her eyelids. It was hopeless, everything was just so completely out of control that she just didn’t know what to do or say or feel. There was just this giant empty inside where all of the answers used to be.

When she was small, she had always imagined that she would grow up to have all of the answers to all of the questions anyone might even think about asking someday. Now here she was and she didn’t know anything; all there was were those laughing, taunting, unanswerable questions.

"Are you all right?"

She looked up into the knowing blue eyes of the guy everyone called Bran. She hadn’t bothered to get to know him, since she had already seen how freaky he was and didn’t want to get close to anything like that. Now here he was, asking her if she was all right, like he cared or something.

"I’m fine," she said, brushing away her tears. She was of a strong clan and they were not the type to give into their emotions.

He came and sat down next to her on the couch.

She was taller than he was, but somehow he made that seem irrelevant. He carried himself as though he was fifteen feet tall with the build of a wrestler, instead of being lean, his muscles planed down tight to the bone.

"Are you worried about them?" he asked, watching her with an almost frightening stillness and intensity.

She refused to be intimidated and kept her eyes from turning away from him. She was a witch. She was afraid of no one and nothing. Instead of fidgeting, she held her arms and tried to force her feet to stop wanting to tap nervously. "I suppose that I should be worried about them," she said, "but I’m not. Lianndra will beat anything that stands against him. I felt his mind. He’s stronger than anything I’ve ever touched before. There’s no way he’s going to lose."

Bran smiled knowingly. "Ah, I see now. It’s not his defeat that you fear--it’s his victory. You’re worried that when he comes back, he might claim you for his cause and you’ll be forced to realize that you don’t know everything and that you’re just a simple mortal with no clue as to what you’re supposed to do or say."

"That’s such a pile of shit!" Christine exclaimed. "I know what I am and I know why I’m here. I just wish that I knew why he was here and why he stepped into my life and drove everything all crazy."

"Another control freak? Geez, I thought we’d seen the back of the last of them, yet here you are, another person thinking they have all of the answers to life simply because they survived the first level of testing," Bran said.

She glared at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"So, she doesn’t know all the answers, not even the simplest of them all." There was a mocking note to his voice that she didn’t like.

"Just tell me what you mean. Speak plainly," she ordered. She really wasn’t enjoying this, there was just something so uncomfortable about the man.

He shifted next to her, crossing his legs with a creaking sound.

For the first time she really noticed what he was wearing. A pair of black leather pants that showed everything he had, a loose powder blue knit shirt with sleeves that he had pushed up his forearms and a beaded necklace around his neck.

She looked at him, with his bare feet and hair wild about his head as though he had just crawled out of bed. Her eyes were drawn to the delicate golden strands of hair on his arms, shimmering under the weak lamplight.

"No, I’m not," he said.

"Not what?" she asked, twitching in surprise.

He smirked. "No, I’m not wearing any underwear," he said. "That is what you were wondering, wasn’t it?"

"No!" Color flooded her cheeks. "I was not! I don’t care if you’re wearing a pair of long johns or if you’re as naked as a… as a jaybird. It doesn’t matter to me."

"Doesn’t it?" He pouted at her, as though she had hurt his feelings. But she knew that he was laughing inside--laughing at her.

Christine felt the blood hot in her face and knew that she was as bright a red as an overripe tomato. No matter how much she knew or how mature she thought she was, she was barely eighteen years old and didn’t really have that much experience. And he knew it, damn him, and he was using it against her like a weapon.

If she thought she could get away with it, she would have blasted him with lightning. But she knew that that was crazy. She most definitely didn’t want to end up on the Rogue Witch list. She just couldn’t see herself on the toasty end of a barbecue.

Christine glared at the annoying man and purposefully turned her shoulder and crossed her arms across her chest tight. She was miserable enough without this guy driving her insane.

She would ignore him, and maybe, just maybe, he would go away. Hopefully.

LIANNDRA

"How did you do that thing with the fire?" Chelsea asked, staring, wide-eyed, at the scattered bits that were all that remained of that blazing fire.

Lianndra shrugged. "I told you, it was something I remembered. When I was young, I would make fire all the time, it was no big deal, really."

She turned to give him a hard look, but didn’t say anything.

He hid his smile and tried not to look as amused as he felt. She wouldn’t appreciate him making an ass of himself.

We have to take care of the Dark Stalker… Magnus… Magnus…

He froze and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It felt as though ghosts were whispering in his brain.

"What’s the matter?" Chelsea asked, reaching out to touch his arm. She yelped when a spark leaped off to zap her.

"Something’s wrong. It feels strange, like I’m… dreaming everything. My eyes have gone all funny."

He felt as though he had just dropped acid. The trees were suddenly looming huge above him and the ground seemed to be so far below him that it was small and tiny and hard to see and his body felt impossibly light as though he were floating weightless. A shudder ran through him and he had an uncontrollable urge to laugh and giggle like a maniac.

Magnus… Magnus… I’m scared, please don’t make me, I’m scared…

Everything seemed to stop. That thought, the sound of that MindVoice was familiar, though it took him a second to recognize it.

Chris. Chris was afraid and heading into danger.

"We have to go," he said, pushing the strange feelings away from him. He wasn’t going to let them touch him and change him. He needed all of his strength for what was coming.

"What’s wrong? What’s happening? Please, talk to me!"

He looked at Chelsea. She was sounding like a child. "Chris is in trouble, and if he is then Dezi is too. We have to go and do what we can," he said. "They’re going to need us soon, I can feel it."

CHRIS

"Talk about your spooky castle affects," he said, fighting down the urge to giggle nervously.

He had never felt so afraid in his entire life. He knew suddenly that he was going to die. That he was going to go into that dark and forbidding house and never come out. This was the end.

His legs sent a message straight into his brain "Run!" but he knew that he couldn’t. Dezi was here, and somewhere in his heart he had promised himself that he would go wherever she went, that he would never leave her alone. Which meant he was going to go into that house whether he liked it or not. It was just the way things were.

~we have to be very quiet now,~ Dezi whispered into his mind. ~he can hear even our thoughts, and this is the last chance we’ll have to say anything before we go in there.~

~i love you.~

She looked at him and lifted her hand to brush her knuckles across his lips. ~i love you too.~

It felt almost as though they were saying good-bye, and he hoped that it wasn’t true. He didn’t know if he could stand to live without her. She had wriggled her way into his soul and he didn’t think that he could ever let her go.

~remember, stand back and out of the way. i don’t want you to get hurt,~ she said. Her "voice" was being tough again, commanding him to do as she said and not let his emotions get away from him.

He nodded wordlessly, not trusting himself to speak, and especially not with his mind where she could hear his every thought and feel just what he felt.

~all right,~ she said, ~let’s go.~

Great.

CHRIS

"It’s a friggin’ haunted house!"

"Sh!" Dezi touched his arm and gestured for him to be quiet.

"Sorry," he whispered.

The place was scary. It could have been used to make a horror movie, one of those blood and guts slasher flicks that were so very popular in the 80’s. He didn’t think he wanted to go in there. He had the horrible feeling that if he went in, he wasn’t going to be coming out.

The place was painted dark brown and had been built out of rectangles; it looked like it had been designed by a dyslexic architect with a penchant for straight lines on acid. There were several different designs just kind of thrown together, as though someone had begun building then changed their mind and started something else mid-project. There was no planning involved in the design of the place.

Dezi strode off across the yard with a leggy grace that showed no fear.

Chris stood there for a moment, watching her, then hurried after. He had to run to catch up and he was afraid he was going to slip on the wet grass and land flat on his ass. This Washington weather was a real bitch, that was for sure. It had sprinkled a little bit without him really noticing and the grass had somehow managed to become completely soaked and as slippery as ice, though not as cold.

He chased after Dezi, concentrating on the grass and not letting his mind dwell on the fact that he was going to be pulling a complete hero and head straight into danger. It was just one of those moments.

Dezi touched his arm, stopping him. She slowly pushed the door open and peered in.

For the first time, he noticed what her eyes looked like at night. They seemed large and glowed from the inside out like an animal’s. It was strange, yet beautiful. He wondered if his eyes looked like that. He almost wished that he had a flashlight to see if her eyes would reflect back the light like a cat’s. That would be so cool.

Chris shook his head to make himself come back to what they were doing here. He could die in the next ten minutes, so he didn’t really want to waste his last minutes being stupid.

"Like Nietzsche says…" he whispered and muffled his half-hysterical giggle against his shoulder.

They were heading into the great unknown. All he basically had to look forward to was an ass-kicking.

Tonight I’m giving out lollypops and ass-kickings, and I’m all-out of lollypops, he thought, purposefully squaring his shoulders. He wanted to be strong and tough and brave and everything else good. He really didn’t want to cry or do anything stupid.

Dezi gave him that special smile that was just for him and passed through the door into that darkened house.

He really didn’t want to go in there, but there was nothing for it. He had promised himself that he would do this one thing and he was going to do it. Whether he liked it or not.

CHRIS

The inside of the house was as dark and dreadful as the outside. It looked like it had been decorated by Psychos-R-Us. The scare-factor was definitely high.

"Frightful and disgusting," he whispered. Dezi poked him sharply with her elbow and he shut up. Now wasn’t the time to get in trouble.

He followed her through the darkened church, hoping that no one or nothing would come jumping out of the shadows to grab him. All he would need to make the day better was to wet his pants like a little kid. Though, thinking about it, he couldn’t really wet his pants. Not even if he wanted to. He didn’t know if that was comforting or not.

They crept through the shadows, all of their senses on alert for danger, but the sheer macabre quality of the church made it hard to tell what was out there.

Chris felt a shiver work its way down his spine and spun around, too late.

A heavy weight slammed into his back and he fell to the floor, fists pummeling his head. Lights flashed behind his eyes and he wondered if he was going to lose consciousness.

Somewhere, he heard Dezi fighting. She was cursing viciously and he could hear the whap, whap of a fist hitting flesh. He hoped that she was going to be okay, then realized that he should be more worried about himself. From the sounds, she was kicking ass. As for him, he was getting his ass royally kicked.

He twisted and squirmed, drawing on his vampire strength to fight.

Whoever was on him was strong. He couldn’t turn over, was helpless on his stomach as fists tried to pound their way into his brain. He could be killed and there wasn’t anything he could do. He was weaker than that other, and he was trapped in a helpless position.

"Get off me, you son of a bitch!" he managed to gasp out, trying to buck the weight off. It was no use though. Those fists just kept slamming away at him until finally he lost consciousness.

LIANNDRA

"Aw shit, Chris’ been knocked out. We have to hurry," he said, holding tightly to Chelsea’s hand as they zipped across the sky.

"What are we going to do when we get there?" she asked.

He tilted a smile at her. "Whatever it takes."

"Great, that’s just the sort of thing a person likes to hear when they’re heading directly into danger."

He laughed, feeling a rush of adrenaline go through him. They were headed into danger, and he was feeling pumped up and excited. There was no fear in him. It had been lost somewhere along the way and he didn’t really miss it.

Maybe it was being so fully himself for the first time in years. He had been reminded of who and what he was. He wasn’t the "vampling child Lianndra" anymore. He was Lianndra de Voight, just, Lianndra de Voight.

CHRIS

Returning consciousness was a painful thing. He felt a lump on his head throbbing slowly and there were boot-marks all up and down his spine.

He moaned and turned his head, trying to get a look at where he was.

It was a large room with a crystal chandelier suspended high overhead. Moonlight poured in through the tall windows and was the only light available, so the velvet backed chairs and oak tables were shrouded in shadow.

He squinted his eyes and wanted to curse. That or cry.

The light was such that it made it hard to see. There could have been a hundred people hidden in various spots, and from where he lay he couldn’t see or know. It really sucked.

What he wanted most was to get up off the floor, but he was staked down, his arms and legs spread-eagle and ropes tied around his wrists and ankles. The sharpened bits of wood had been hammered down into the floor, which made him want to wince. Even he knew that pounding holes into a wood floor was not a good thing.

"Dezi?" he called, trying to tell if she were near. There was something wrong with his brain. He couldn’t sense anything with his powers. Maybe they were broken or something.

There was silence for a long, heart-stopping moment, then, "Yeah. Chris?"

He couldn’t help a relieved smile. "Are you okay?"

"Sure, I’m just peachy keen," she said sarcastically. "You’ve been unconscious for awhile. I was starting to get a little worried."

"What, you really do love me? Aw, and I thought you just kept me around for the comic relief." He knew he was being an asshole, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to crack jokes. It was either laugh or cry, and he preferred to go out laughing.

"Shut up, you idiot," she said. "We have to get out of here before Magnus and his thugs come back. They staked us down, then left, presumably to get their well used tools of torture."

"What was that? Did you just call Magnus a tool?" He laughed, a high-pitched, frightening sound that even he didn’t like. It took him a moment to bring himself back under control. He was really losing it.

For his entire life he had lived one day at a time. He had never really had anyone care for him. Sure, there had been his friends, but when he really thought about it, they weren’t people he really related to. He didn’t go out of his way to open up his heart to them or anything. They were just the people he hung out with for protection and food and a place to sleep at night. They hadn’t really been that great of companions. There just hadn’t ever been anything there.

Thinking back, his mortal life had been pretty empty. He had wasted it being stupid, and he could only be grateful that he had been Made. Being a vampire was the coolest thing. He saw things differently than he ever had before and in some ways he felt things more. Then there was Dezi. Beautiful, wonderful, smart, sexy, funny Dezi, the vampire girl of his dreams.

Before he had met her, he had lived hand-to-mouth and had thought he was content. But with her he was happy. He didn’t want to die and never see her again. He wanted to have a future. He wanted to see tomorrow, and he especially wanted to have her in it.

That was why he was so afraid now. He didn’t want to die, sure, but he especially didn’t want her to.

Maybe that was what love was really all about. It was loving someone so much that you wanted them to live and be happy, no matter what affect it had on you.

"I love you," he said softly, knowing that she could hear him.

"I love you too." He felt warmth go through him at her words. It was hard to believe that three little words could have so much power.

"Well isn’t that cute," a hard voice said.

Chris tensed. Whoever it was had come in without him hearing it or sensing it. The guy had to be a real bad ass.

"Is that you Magnus? Still hanging around in dumps, I see," Dezi drawled.

The man laughed, a grating sound. "Dear, dear Dezi, she always tries to be so funny. I’ve never really understood your humor, darling, and I guess I never will, since you’re not going to be with us for very much longer." He had a thick European accent, but his meaning was clear.

"What are you going to do, Magnus?" Dezi asked.

Magnus stepped into Chris’ carpet-level view, or at least his expensive Italian leather shoes did. "Do? What am I going to do? Well, I’m going to kill you, then rape your little friend here and use him for bait so that I can get my hands on the one I really want."

"Lianndra."

"Exactly. I have been hungering for the little bastard’s blood for years, and I’m finally going to get it."

Dezi snorted. "Yeah right. Lianndra is going to beat you and you know it. He has something that you never will and it tears you apart. That’s why you’ve always tried to keep him down. You know he’s stronger than you."

There was the sound of a leather shoe impacting with flesh and Dezi grunted slightly.

Chris felt more afraid than he had ever thought possible. He had been beaten up before and threatened, but it was so much worse when he couldn’t really see anything. It was much harder to bear.

"Let us go," he said. "Fight us like a man and stop hiding, you fucking pussy."

"So the little one speaks. I always thought you liked your toys mute, Dezi," Magnus said.

Chris gritted his teeth. "I speak, you loudmouthed asshole, and you better watch out. If I get loose, I’m going to rip off your head and spit down your throat. I’m going to pee on your brain and smash your heart before your eyes. I’m going to… ungh!" He broke off when a wingtip caught him directly in the ribs. Bones cracked and snapped. He made a mewling sound in his throat.

"Shut up, little mouse, or I’ll have to hurt you before the fun really even starts. I don’t think that you want to make me mad, or you’ll learn firsthand why they call me the Dark Stalker."

Fucking asshole, Chris thought, trying to push the pain out of his mind. He was not going to be controlled by his pain. He was stronger than that. He was… He was scared. He was helpless. He just wanted to go home.

He knew that this wasn’t his battle. He didn’t even know how it had come to this. To his way of thinking, things had just completely gone out of control for no reason. Things had started happening and kept on happening. And it wasn’t even as though those things were really interconnected. To him, they had just seemed like random events. Except that here he was, helpless and afraid and not really knowing why it was going on.

If Lianndra were here, he would feel a whole lot safer. Which was weird, since Lianndra looked like a little kid and should have made him feel as though he were begging protection from a baby. Maybe it was the vibes that Lianndra gave off. It was a sense that belied his childish appearance and made everyone around him certain that he would handle any situation calmly and coolly. Whatever it was, Chris wished that he were here. Then he wouldn’t be so afraid. Everything would be all right.

DEZI

She could tell that Chris was scared. She wished that there was something she could say, but Magnus was here and he would use her words as a weapon. All she could do was hope that Chris knew how she felt; that she was here for him, that she loved him, that she wished everything would turn out all right.

She could feel Magnus’ power pressing down on her brain, stopping her from MindSpeaking Chris, comforting him. Suddenly she wished that she had taken the time to really show Chris how much she loved him. Sure, she had said the words, but there was so much more to love than that.

She rolled her head as far as it could go and could just barely see the legs of his black trousers far to the right of her. Magnus stood close to him, something she really didn’t like.

Chris was so young and helpless. There were so many ways he could be hurt that wouldn’t kill him, but that would leave him wishing he could die. That was one of the bad things about being a vampire. If someone knew your limits, they could torture you to the point of death, wait until you healed up, then start all over again for decades, centuries, or if they were really cruel, forever.

She didn’t want anything to happen to Chris. She wished that somehow she could go back in time and forbid him from coming with her. He should be safe somewhere where all of this ugliness couldn’t touch him and stain his soul.

"What is that I hear?" Magnus crooned. "I do believe that Dezi is frightened for her little lover-boy. Ooh, it makes me want to hurt him so bad." He laughed.

Dezi squirmed, trying to work one of the stakes up out of the floor. If she just had enough time, she could get loose. But she had a fear that she wasn’t going to be given the time she needed. She just had to hope that she could stall things long enough to get free.

"Hey Magnus," she called, tilting her head slightly and covertly wriggled her arm. "So, whatever happened to your sweet and ever so charmingly compliant Kristen?"

He growled. "You know perfectly well what that little bastard did to my Krissy. You were probably there in his mind when he did it, you bitch. When I get my hands on Lianndra, I’m going to tear out his heart and eat it."

"Oh really? I don’t think you can take Lianndra. I think that when he gets here, he’s going to kick your ass. He’s going to tear you up!" she said.

He laughed, a terrible thing that had no humor in it. He moved toward her.

She screamed when he stomped on the fingers of her right hand with his boot, grinding his heel down until she was half-afraid her fingers were going to be mashed like overripe bananas.

"You sonuvabitch!" she screamed, trying to pull up her right hand.

He just laughed again and ground his heel a little more before walking away.

Tears streamed from her eyes. Her fingers throbbed and she had heard bones popping and breaking.

He had left, but she knew that he would be back. She sniffed hard to stop the tears and tried to work her left hand loose. It wasn’t working and there wasn’t much time left.

She drew in a deep breath and jerked her arms and legs at the same time. The ropes around her wrists and ankles let her lift up about a centimeter, then slammed her back down. She did it again. And again. And again.

Come on you bitch, she thought viciously, get up!

The ropes were hooked tight to the stakes, which were pounded hard into the floor. None of that meant anything though. She was still going to have to get away. No matter what.