"I'm fine. You were saying?"

Erik studied her a moment, wondering if she was going to faint again. "Rhys isn't looking for you in particular, at least not yet. But he'll sniff you out, sooner or later."

Rhys Costain. The name alone was enough to strike terror in the heart of the strongest hunter. Though he wasn't the most ancient vampire in existence, Costain was believed to be the oldest, most dangerous vampire in North America. No one knew for sure just how old he was. It was said that very old vampires required less blood to survive, that they could even endure the sun's light for brief periods of time. Their strength was phenomenal; their preternatural senses without equal.

Daisy swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat. "Just how old is he?"

"Five hundred and twelve, give or take a decade or two."

Five hundred and twelve. Few vampires had the will or the stamina to survive that long. If she ever got home again, she would have to share what she had learned with the other hunters.

She wrapped her arms around her middle. What chance would she have against a vampire that old? "Are you going to hand me over to him? Is that why you're keeping me here?"

"No, but you do present a problem."

Daisy shuddered. How did vampires handle a "human problem"? And did she really want to know? "What are you going to do with me?"

"Beats the hell out of me." Erik wasn't sure what Rhys and the Council would do if they discovered he was harboring the notorious Blood Thief. Looking at her, with her guileless green eyes and petite figure, it was hard to imagine her searching out vampires and stealing their blood.

Erik swore softly. If he had just followed his own advice, he wouldn't have gotten mixed up with Miss Daisy O'Donnell in the first place. Mortal females were nothing but trouble. You'd think that, after 325 years, he would have absorbed that fact.

He grunted softly as a new thought occurred to him. "You destroyed Saul, too, didn't you? You don't have to answer. I can see the truth in your eyes. Dammit!"

"It was self-defense!" Daisy exclaimed. "What was I supposed to do, let him kill me?"

"You should have stayed the hell away from him." Erik shook his head. What the devil was wrong with Daisy's parents, to let their daughter engage in such a dangerous business? Sure, most vampires were helpless during the day, but not all. Any vampire over a hundred was capable of sensing danger and defending himself if necessary.

He swore again. It was bad enough that she trafficked in vampire blood. He might have been able to talk Rhys out of taking revenge for that, but no way in hell could he protect Daisy from Rhys once Rhys knew she had destroyed one of their own.

She was shivering now. "I guess I'm in big trouble, aren't I?"

"Oh, yeah," he muttered as he took her in his arms. And so am I.

Erik left the house later that night, after Daisy had fallen asleep. What was he going to do with her? The question repeated itself in his mind over and over again. He couldn't let her go home. If Rhys learned Daisy was the one who had taken Tina's blood and staked Saul...Erik shook his head. He didn't even want to think about what Rhys would do to her. Rhys was pretty easygoing most of the time, but cross him or someone under his protection, and he could be downright vicious, even by vampire standards.

So. He couldn't let her go, but he couldn't keep her in his house indefinitely, either. He wasn't sure he could rest comfortably knowing the Blood Thief was under the same roof. Destroying Saul had proven she was a hunter to be reckoned with. And Erik didn't intend to be her next victim.

He was about to return home when Rhys materialized beside him.

"Hey, buddy, you in the mood for a little midnight snack?"

"I was just heading home."

"No way. It's early and I smell fresh blood."

Deciding a refusal might stir Rhys's suspicion, Erik followed him across town to Santa Monica where they found two old derelicts sitting at the end of the pier huddled over a bottle of cheap wine.

"I'll take the one on the left," Rhys remarked.

"You always take the best for yourself," Erik muttered.

Rhys shrugged. "That's because I'm older and--"

"Wiser and stronger," Erik finished for him. "Yeah, I know."

With a smug grin, Rhys dragged the man on the left into his embrace. A moment later, the scent of blood filled the salty air.

Erik grimaced as he wrapped his arm around the other man's shoulders. The wino smelled of booze and urine and too many days without a bath. Muttering an oath, Erik released his hold on the drunk, who staggered backward, then turned and ran down the pier as fast as his unsteady legs could carry him.

Lifting his head from the wino's neck, Rhys smirked at Erik. "You always were a picky eater."

"And you were always a pig."

"Yes, but an older, wiser pig."

"Older and wiser, my ass," Erik retorted. Rhys had been turned a few months short of his twenty-first birthday; Erik had been thirty. But Rhys had been a vampire longer. Perhaps that made him wiser, but sometimes he acted like an arrogant teenager. As for stronger, Erik couldn't argue with that. Vampires grew stronger as they grew older.

With a bark of laughter, Rhys lowered his head to his prey's neck and drank.

Moving to the rail, Erik stared out over the dark water, his thoughts drifting toward Daisy. What was he doing here when he could be home with her? He turned when Rhys slapped him on the back.

"Shall we go find something more to your liking?" Costain asked good-naturedly.

Erik shook his head. Rhys never let him forget the differences in their upbringing and background. Erik had been the oldest son of a wealthy landowner. When he came of age, he had inherited property and a title. Rhys had been the bastard son of a prostitute, forced to steal food and beg for money to survive. Erik thought it an odd twist of fate that the two of them had met and become friends.

"Something perfumed and refined," Rhys suggested with a faint leer, "as befitting a man of your station."

"Enough!" Erik said curtly.

"Never enough," his companion drawled.

"Here we go," Erik muttered as they walked down the pier toward the beach. Rhys might be one of the oldest and strongest of their kind, but he had a melancholy streak a mile wide.

"Never enough." Rhys waved a hand in the air. "In five hundred and twelve years, I've never had enough. Not like you. You had it all."

"It was a long time ago."

"But you still had it," his companion said, his voice turning bitter. "A wife, children..."

"Rhys, don't go there."

"You're right! You're right! The past is over and done, but we've got an hour or two before sunrise, and I'm still thirsty. Come on, let's finish off the night with something that's young and smells good."

Like a wounded animal seeking shelter, Daisy snuggled deeper under the covers. She was usually eager to be up and about, but not today. Why not today, she wondered. The reason hit her like a splash of cold water. Rhys Costain was hunting for her and, according to Erik, he wouldn't stop until he found her.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" she muttered. "Just lie here and wait for him to find you?"

Flinging the covers aside, she went downstairs. Coffee. She needed coffee. And something to write with. A search in her handbag turned up a pen and an old envelope.

Sitting on the sofa, a cup of coffee close at hand, she began to write down everything she knew about vampires. Her father had always said knowledge was power, so what did she know about the Undead? Garlic didn't faze them. Old ones weren't entirely helpless during the day. Grimacing, she remembered that she hadn't needed a mallet to drive a stake through Saul's heart. Erik was able to place wards on his house that kept her from leaving. Was that vampire magic, or warlock magick? According to her father, holy water and crosses didn't provide much protection. As for mirrors, only the very young ones cast no reflection. Daisy had always puzzled over that.

She sat up straight as a new thought occurred to her. Why wasn't Erik's name listed on the vampire hunters' networking site? Of course, he could have changed his name. Vampires did that from time to time, but sooner or later, one hunter or another always ferreted out any new alias, as well as the location of a new lair, if the vampire moved when it changed its name. She thought about asking Erik why he wasn't listed, but she was pretty sure he wouldn't tell her. It was just as well, because she wasn't supposed to talk about her father's list or the networking site.

After finishing her coffee, Daisy returned to the kitchen. Since she wasn't really hungry, she settled on buttered toast and orange juice for breakfast and then, because she was curious, she made her way down to Erik's lair.

She paused at the door, suddenly reluctant to see him at rest.

"Suck it up, Daisy," she muttered. "You destroyed a vampire a couple of days ago. If you could do that, you can look at Erik while he's asleep, or resting, or dead, or whatever the heck he is."

And so saying, she reached for the knob, somewhat surprised that the door wasn't locked. Of course, why should he bother? He had nothing to fear from her since he had taken her weapons, her syringe, and her cell phone.

Taking a deep breath, Daisy stepped inside. She hadn't had time to look around the last time she had been in his lair. Now she saw that it wasn't a cellar at all, but a large, finished room. Most likely it had been a family room, she thought, or maybe a bonus room. An eight-branch candelabra on a thick black chain hung from the ceiling. Two floor-to-ceiling bookcases stood on either side of a brick fireplace. Other than the bookcases, there was no furniture in the room. There was no light in the room, either, save for the illumination that spilled down the stairway, making it hard to see details from the doorway.

But there was no mistaking the shape of a shiny black coffin, even in the dim light. Staring at it, Daisy felt her courage desert her. Erik was inside. He was a vampire. She had danced with him. She had let him kiss her. She had kissed him in return.