When Ethan left, I hurried to the front door to watch. Just to be sure he really was going and not playing some trick to catch me in the act. But he kept walking, right along the meandering path and on to the stable.

I let the heavy curtain fall and turned, sweeping the living room with my sharper than human gaze. He was lying to me. I didn't know how I knew it, but I did. I wasn't sure what he was lying aboutbut there was something.

He was familiar to me somehow. Despite my amnesia, I was sure of it. It wasn't a memory, it was a sense. A feeling.

My senses were sharper than before. He'd told me as much. And there were new ones. I could speak without speaking, sense another's essence, almost like a scent, without smelling. I could feel the approach of danger. I could tell whether another being was human or a vampire like me.

With all that knowledge slowly making itself at home in my mind, how could I doubt this feeling of recognition when it came to him?

Or worse, the feeling of longing that had plagued me from the moment I set eyes on him. The longing to be closer. To touch. To feel those hands on my body, those lips on No. I wouldn't let those thoughts linger. He was lying to me. There was something more to all of this than he was telling me. And if I had to search this entire place, I would find out what it was.

I looked around the living room and whispered, "It's always best to begin where you are." I vaguely remembered someone saying that phrase often, and how wise I thought it was.

A woman. A kind woman. A mortal.

I got a flash of short butterscotch hair that curled inwardly, just below the ear, and blue, twinkling eyes.

The life in those eyes had always seemed out of place amid all the dull-eyed others.

What others?

I didn't know, but in my mind, I saw her lips move and heard her voice saying, "It's always best to start where you are."

Callista.

The name floated into my mind as if from nowhere. Her name was Callista, and she wasn't like the others.

And that was all. Though I fought to grab hold of the memory and wrestle more from it, it was like trying to grab a handful of mist. And yet I was reassured even by that slightest touch of the familiar when all the world was foreign.

It emboldened me.

My memory wasn't gone forever. It was returning, albeit in pieces. And so I began searching Ethan's haven, hoping to find some clue to my past, to how I knew him, that might tease my wounded mind into telling me more about who and what I was. But even as I did, a niggling worry crept into my brain, and I found myself moving to the window, parting the curtain and gazing out toward the stable. What if he didn't come back? What if he had abandoned me?

Just like before.

I frowned at the odd thought that had crept, unbidden, into my mind. And I was more certain than ever that I knew him. We had a history. God, why couldn't I remember?

21 Years Ago

Serena woke to find herself lying on a fainting couch in a large room that had to be part of a mansion.

That was her first impression as she blinked, pressed a hand to her head and sat up slowly. She looked around her and saw women, standing in small groups of two and three in different parts of the room, all speaking softly, nodding sadly, sipping from china cups and nibbling on pastries. Terry was there.

One of the women noticed her and, meeting her eyes, said, "You're awake."

And then, one by one, the others turned their attention to her. Serena noticed that some sets of eyes were damp and remembered Maureen being blown to bits, all because she'd tried to help.

"Hello, Serena," one of the women said. She set down her teacup and made her way over, taking a seat beside Serena. She was beautiful, probably in her thirties, though she had an ageless look that could be very deceiving. All the women did. There was a wisdom in their eyes that suggested the toned bodies and unlined faces were less than the entire story.

The woman indicated the tea service that sat on a table across the room. China, a pink pattern that looked Asian. Another woman quickly poured a cup of tea.

"My name is Ginger. I'm the leader here. And I'm very sorry about your baby ."

Serena nodded, tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Kind hands pressed a warm cup into her own, and she took it and sipped. It was hot and sweet and creamy. That other woman had also brought over a plate of pastries.

"Didn't know if you take cream and sugar, but I figured you could use them after what you've been through."

Serena sipped some more. "Thank you." And then she looked at Ginger again. "I'm sorry about your about Maureen."

"Maureen wouldn't have a single regret, other than maybe not finding the bomb before it went off. I can promise you that. She lived for this work."

Serena blinked and looked around the room. "This work which is ?" Then she licked her lips. "Do you know who took my baby? Or why?" And then, frowning, she added, "Terry said something about a rare antigen in her blood."

"Yes," Ginger said. "I suspect a government agency is behind this. One most people believe ceased to exist years ago. It was known as the DPI, and it was a highly classified, top secret sub-division of the CIA."

Serena felt her eyes widen, and a million questions swirled in her mind. "What does it stand for? DPI?"

"The Division of Paranormal Investigations," Ginger said.

Ginger was watching her closely, gauging her reactions, Serena thought. Ginger clearly didn't want to upset her, but she wasn't coddling her, either. Not telling her she'd been through enough for one day or asking her to wait, but giving her direct answers to her questions.

"It's a bit of a misnomer, though," Ginger went on. "Their interest in most areas of the paranormal is shallow, at best. Their real focus is on the undead. Vampires."

Serena blinked, and her gaze shifted from one woman to another, looking for the giveaway. This had to be a joke. But no one was smiling.

"Are you trying to tell me that my baby was a"

"Oh, God, no," Ginger said with a wave of her hand. "No, but as her mother, you do need to know about them. No, your baby was human through and through. But she's related to them, in a way. You see, every vampire in existence was born human, and every one of them was born with the Belladonna Antigen. It's the thing that allows them to become vampires."

Serena sat there, taking in this outrageous, impossible information.

"I know it's hard to believe, much less understand. But if you stay with us, you'll see proof soon enough.

And I want you to know that even if you don't choose to join us, we'll try to find your baby for you. And we'll trust you to leave with information few outsiders have ever been allowed to possess. As the mother of one of The Chosen, you have a right to know."

"The Chosen?"

"That's what those with the antigen are called. Vampires, by nature, sense them, and they're compelled to protect and watch over them. But lately, the Chosen have been vanishing. The vampire community is aware of it, too. But so far, no one knows where the children are being takenor why."

"But you have your suspicions," Serena asked.

"Yes, but we have no real information."

"What did the DPI do before they were supposedly shut down or whatever?"

Ginger looked away, met Terry's eyes and licked her lips nervously. Serena knew whatever was coming wasn't good.

"They were mostly interested in research. Learning how vampires' bodies work, how to control them, how to eliminate them."

A small cry flew from Serena's lips before she could bite it back. "You think my baby is a lab rat for some government experiment?"

"We have absolutely no evidence of that."

"Oh, God." Serena lowered her face to her hands, sobbing so hard she thought her chest would tear in two.

The rest of the women left the room one by one. She heard them leaving, felt the emptiness when they had gone, then lifted her head and wiped her eyes. Terry and Ginger now sat on either side of her.

"I don't understand what it is you do here."

"We're the Sisterhood of Athena, and we've existed for centuries. What we dowell, we watch. We observe. We try not to interfere unless it's absolutely necessary. Our stated mission is to protect the supernatural order. Which is really the natural order, simply the parts of it that few people know about."

"You protect the vampires?"

"They have a right to exist. They're apart of creation, just as we are, and their elimination would send things out of balance, just as the extinction of any species would. We want to see them allowed to live naturally, evolving in whatever way they're supposed to, without interference from humans."

"But don't they you know, feed on humans?"

"They're just like us, Serena," Ginger said. "There are good ones and bad ones. When there is a bad one, though, the good ones tend to get rid of him. They feed on blood from blood banks or occasionally take criminals. Few ever kill a human being except in self defense. They're just people.

"So we observe," she went on. "And yes, when necessary, we protect. Even the vampires aren't supposed to know of our existencethat's how discreet we are. However, in recent years some of them have learned about us. We've asked them to keep it to themselves, and so long as they have no reason to mistrust us, we expect they'll do so."

"What we do here is dangerous," Terry said. "Working against government agencies, undercover assassins, vampire hunters who want to exterminate them all."

"Not to mention," Ginger added, "the vampires themselves. Sometimes when they catch on to our knowledge of them, catch one of us snooping around their secrets, they see us as a threat. It's not always possible to explain in time."

Serena closed her eyes slowly. "This is a lot. It's just a lot."

"We know," Ginger told her. "But that's about all the information I'm willing to give you for now. If you decide to stay, to join us, you'll be entrusted with more. A great deal more. Our history, case files from which you will study and learn, physical training, and mental training, as well. But all of that is for later.

And you don't have to make any decisions right now. Stay with us for a few days. Recover your strength.

We'll begin searching for clues about your baby. Maybe she'll be the one who leads us to the rest of the missing Chosen."

"Yes," Terry said. "Just be our guest and relax. If you want to go back to your old life in a few days, that's fine. We'll trust you to keep knowledge of us secret. We know you will, because we're the only hope you have of finding her."

Serena nodded. "You're right about that. I wouldn't betray your secrets. But I don't need a few days to think about it."

"Careful, Serena," Ginger said. "This is not a decision that can be undone. If you join this sisterhood, you join for good. There's no going back to your old life."

"I have no life to go back to. All I had was my baby. And I'll devote the rest of my life to searching for her and making those who took her payand making sure they can't keep doing this to women like me, to babies like mine."

Ginger slid a look at Terry, who shrugged.

"I'm sure," Serena said, looking from one to the other. "I want to join the Sisterhood of Athena."

Ginger nodded. "So be it, then. I'll make arrangements for the Dedication Ceremony. But you'll still need a few days to recover, and to prepare. There are lessons, meditations. But tomorrow is soon enough to begin." She turned to the other woman. "Terry, why don't you show our new sister to her rooms now?"

Ethan opened the rear door of the stable, and it swung wide onto a grassy moonlit meadow, five acres in size, all enclosed by a white wooden fence that seemed to rise and fall with every curve of the ground. A bubbling stream bisected the meadow, providing a supply of fresh water. And beyond the meadow, the trees began, then thickened into a full blown forest that stretched all the way to the mountains that formed a backdrop to the view.

He loved it here.

He went back inside and opened first one stall, then the other. His companions knew without being told that it was their time to romp, and they trotted out of their stalls and straight through the back door, barely pausing long enough to accept his strokes as they went.

Ethan watched them as they moved. The second they emerged from the building, they tossed their manes and cut loose into a full gallop, whinnying in joy as they raced into the night.

No one liked being shut in. Being captive. Even knowing they would be released each night, they always reacted as if they'd been locked up for years and were just catching their first taste of freedom.

They felt, he thought, the way he'd felt when he'd escaped from The Farm. The way he still felt, every single evening, when the sun set and he awoke to freedom.

He took a fork and shovel and moved into the first stall to begin the usual soothing tasks of cleaning the floor and putting down fresh bedding.

He wouldn't risk his freedom for anything. Not even for Lilith. God, he wished his brother were here to tell him what the hell to do about her. She could be lying. She could be faking the amnesia. She could have been sent to kill him. It was, after all, inevitable that they would send someone sooner or later. And even if she wasn't the one, she could have been followed, all the while being totally unaware of it.

She was a risk. A threat to his freedom. So why the hell hadn't he sent her packing?

Lowering his head, he realized why. Because it would do no good. To send her away would risk her telling others where he was. The only way to ensure that never happened, would be to keep her hereor kill her.

He paused in his work, leaning on the shovel's long handle and closing his eyes. He knew damned good and well that he couldn't kill her. He'd wronged the woman. He'd been racked with guilt ever since he'd been forced to leave her behind. And he'd wanted to go back for herbut he hadn't.

Because he would have had no chance of surviving. Because he hadn't even known if she was still alive.

Because he'd thought if he could only find his brother first, maybe the two of them could save her. And most of all because he'd known she would refuse to leave that place without taking every other captive along with her. And that would be impossible.

So he hadn't gone back for her. And he knew damn well that part of the reason he wasn't telling her the truth about how they knew one another was because it would mean admitting what he had done. That he'd saved himself and left her behind, and that it had been eating his soul bit by bit ever since.

Finishing the stall-cleaning in record timebecause leaving her alone in his haven made him nervous as hellhe returned the tools to their places, closed the rear door and headed out the front, then along the winding pathway back toward the house.

Through the window, he saw her framed in silhouette, backlit by the fire's amber glow, and the sight of her stopped him in his tracks. She was beautiful.

For years, at The Farm, he'd watched her from a distance, and early on, he'd feared for her. Almost weekly, she would be punished for refusing to submit to the rules or learn the lessons or vow obedience to the DPI. More recently, she'd been in trouble for trying to stir revolt in the others. They two of them had barely even talked. But eventually she'd noticed him looking at her when they passed on the compound. The DPI kept their captive males separate from the females. They were closely guarded, their every moment scheduled for them, from lessons and training to limited recreation. They were told when it was time to take to their cots in their barracks, and told when it was time to rise and begin another day. Even their bathroom and shower usage was rigidly scheduled. There was little time to form friendships or have casual conversations.

He always saw her amidst a line of girls as they walked from their barracks to the classroom. He would be in a line of young men, walking the opposite way, after combat training.

When she noticed him, she looked back. And she kept looking. Day in and day out, that was their only communication. Until that last night, the night he'd left.

That night, he had crept into her barracks, avoiding the guard, risking everything for this one moment.

And as the others slept, he'd slipped silently between the two rows of cots, straining his still-mortal eyes to see each sleeping face, until he found her.

She lay awake, eyes open, but not truly seeing. She'd been in isolation for the past week, drugged, punished for her ongoing disobedience. He couldn't imagine what had been done to her. And he didn't want to.

He thought she'd been aware of him, even in her stupor, ever since he'd climbed, awkwardly, through the open window, and he'd paused momentarily when he met her curious, unfocused eyes. Then, when she opened her mouth to speak, he quickly put a finger to his lips to silence her.

At last he moved closer and knelt beside the cot. She rolled onto her side, propped her head on her hand and stared at him, a thousand emotions in her eyes. A thousand questions. And a yearning that could not be concealed, even by the drugs still coursing through her veins.

Without a word, he cupped her face between his palms, leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. He felt them part, felt them tremble, and then felt the warmth of her breath as she released it all at once. At last her arms slid around him, and his body caught fire. He kissed her more deeply, more passionately, and she responded with an eagerness that thrilled him. On and on they kissed, until someone in another bed stirred, and the sound made them jerk apart all at once.

She was breathing hard. So was he, and nearly too aroused to force himself to stop. He'd never kissed a woman before that night. He was certain that she was every bit as innocent as he.

Leaning closer, his lips against her ear, he whispered, "I'm sorry." And then, calling up every ounce of willpower he possessed, he rose. It was almost physically painful to turn away from those wide, passion-glazed eyes. But he did. He walked away from her, slipped out the window and put his plan for escape into motion.

And for that, even though it had meant his very survival, he would never forgive himself.

I had opened every drawer, fanned the pages of each book on his bookshelves, explored every cabinet and closet, and still I had found no clue as to his past. Or mine.

Maybe I was imagining the familiarity. Maybe it didn't mean anything at all. Maybe I sensed that he was near and turned my head slightly to see him standing a few yards from the house, staring through the window at me. I couldn't help but smile a little bit at the sight of him, so great was my relief that had actually come back. And in spite of my fear that I would seem silly and needy, I hurried to the door and flung it open.

He remained still for only a moment, as his eyes met mine, and I felt the oddest familiarity about the intense gaze we shared. Everything inside me seemed to quiver with an unnamed anticipation. My stomach clenched tight when he started walking toward me. It was only a few steps, and yet they were powerful, deliberate strides, and I shivered in delicious longing.

I only moved away when he reached the doorway, and then only enough to let him pass through. As soon as he stepped across the threshold, his arms snapped around my waist and pulled me hard against him. He lowered his head and took my mouth in a way that told me he was eager, that he was hungry for me. I felt an answering hunger burning inside me as I opened to him, threaded my fingers through his hair and kissed him back as my body seemed to burst into flame.

I had been taught about the workings of the human bodyhow, when, by whom, I did not know. The knowledge, though, remained. I knew about mating and reproductionat least as such things pertained to mortals. I had no idea what, if anything, was different among our kind. The Undead. And yet I had never, I thought, understood or expected this feeling that engulfed me in that moment in his arms. I had never, I thought, realized that there would be this fire.

Or had I? Because his kiss was familiar.

When he finally lifted his head, I opened my eyes and then gasped, because his were glowing, as if this fire I felt was burning in him, too, and had made itself real, visible there in his eyes.

I couldn't look away. "Are my eyes glowing, too?" I asked him.

He nodded, searching my face.

A wave of tiredness washed over me then, suddenly and without warning. My knees felt weak, but I stiffened themand my slowly relaxing spine, as well.

"You've kissed me before, Ethan," I told him. "I know you have."

Again he nodded.

"You have to tell me. Please, Ethan, I want to know. I want it as badly as I wantas I want you."

He almost smiled. But only with his lips. A brief tug at the corners of his delicious mouth, and then it was gone. His eyes, as the fiery glow faded, seemed to convey worrya worry I didn't understand. At last he nodded. "I'll tell you. I'll tell you all of it. But there's a lot, and we're out of time."

"Out of time?" I frowned, not understanding, but my eyes felt inexplicably heavy, and my neck seemed too weak, suddenly, to support the weight of my head.

"You feel it. I can see you do. The sun's about to rise, Lilith. We need to rest now. I wish to God we had a choice in the matter." And even as he said it, he turned me slightly, keeping one arm around my waist, propelling me forward at his side. He paused only long enough to close and lock the door, never letting go of his hold on me, and then he guided me toward the stairs.

My head fell sideways against his powerful shoulder as we climbed, and my body slumped once more.

Instantly Ethan scooped me up in his strong arms. I curled my own arms around his neck and was asleep before we reached the top of the stairway.