Cian carried Amaliya into the loft and set her against the wall. Holding her steady with one

hand, he shut the door and entered the security code. He had pretended she was drunk all the way

back to his place and no one had even taken notice of them. It wasn't an unusual thing to see

some poor boyfriend carrying his drunk date back to his car.

The girl was still out cold, which didn't surprise him. She was very young and had not fed yet.

Her powers were dim and her responses slow. As he lifted her up into his arms, he noted that she

had an assortment of items tucked between the swell of her breasts. He found this particularly

amusing.

Roberto was playing a CD of classical guitar music in Cian's absence and was tucked away in

the library reading a book.

“We have company,” Cian called out to his servant.

He carried Amaliya into the living room area. He laid her out on his leather and chrome sofa

and stared down at her face. She was young, probably early twenties or so, with fine Eastern European features and a splash of something else exotic. Her skin was very pale, a sign of her

not feeding, and her makeup was not the best job in the world. As a newbie vampire, it must

have been very hard for her to get it on right. She would learn after time.

Well, if she lived that long.

Roberto emerged from the stacks tucked into the corner of the loft and regarded the girl with

some interest. "The fledgling?"

“I believe so. Amaliya Vezorak. "

"One of the missing."

“I bet it's her empty grave they found,” Cian said and sat across from the girl on a chair.

“What are you going to do with her? Kill her? ” Roberto sat down in the chair opposite of him

and regarded the girl curiously.

“I don't know yet.”

“The Master of Dallas has issued a blood hunt on the fledgling killer,” Roberto reminded him.

“I rule Austin. It's my territory. I decide what happens here.” Cian sat back and ran a hand

through his hair. “She was talking to Carfax. I think she may have thought he was really a

vampire.”

“She's an idiot then,” Roberto decided coolly.

“She's newly transformed. Confused, still evolving. But the fact she was looking for another

vampire speaks volumes about her. She's trying to adapt and not just panicking.”

“She's the Summoner's child. You know that nothing is uncomplicated with her,” Roberto

reminded him.

Cian nodded mutely.

“You keep her alive and in your city, it will only make things difficult. And you are getting

married, remember?”

“You don't even like Samantha.”

“But you do.” Roberto sighed. “Keep her alive and you are risking yourself.”

“I was once as she is. Newly transformed, abandoned, afraid.”

Roberto slowly rose to his feet. “Yes, but you were wise enough to survive on your own. She

has raised quite a ruckus.”

“It's a new age. Technology spreads the word much more quickly now.”

“You will do as you please despite my warnings.” Roberto sighed.

“Yes, I will. But I do value your thoughts.”

“What are you going to do?”

Cian shrugged slightly as he rubbed his hands together. “I don't know. I'll figure it out when

she wakes up.”

“This,” Roberto said, looking at the girl's tattoos and dyed black hair, “should be interesting.”

* * *

Amaliya slowly awakened from dreams drenched with blood. Surreal and brimming with

insanity, she was glad to escape them.

The dull ache in her teeth let her know her fangs had descended from their hiding place. She

opened her eyes and pushed her hair back from her face. The high ceiling with its crisscrossing

metal beams made no sense to her muddled mind. Where the hell was she? She pulled herself

upright. Staring through the dark hair falling over her face, she recognized the man seated across

from her.

It was Cian, from the nightclub.

Sweeping her hair back from her face, she openly looked around. She was in an enormous loft

apartment with amazing views of Austin. They were fairly high up and she could see down onto

the tops of some of the other buildings clustered in the downtown area. There were several doors

leading to other rooms and she could not be sure of where the front door was exactly.

“You kidnapped me,” she said finally.

“Yes,” he answered in a calm voice. He was sprawled in his chair, long, lean legs askew, still

clad in jeans, but he was now wearing a snug Homer Simpson T-shirt. Not exactly what she

expected from a vampire, though the apartment seemed kind of close somehow.

“Why?”

“You're in my territory. I am the Master of Austin.”

She raised both her eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“It means I am the oldest and most powerful vampire in Austin, and if any of my kind start to

draw the attention of the mortals to our community, I deal with it.” He continued to stare at her

with his mesmerizing hazel eyes.

“So, how big is our community?” She rubbed the side of her head. It still hurt where he had

hit her.

“Including us?”

“Yeah.”

“Two.”

She laughed at that. “What?”

“Two vampires. You and me.” He shrugged. “I've been the only vampire in the city since the

late seventies.”

“Why?”

“The vampire hunters destroyed the cabal.”

“Cabal?”

“One of the terms used to describe a group of vampires living together.”

“So, the Van Helsings killed everyone, but you? And we're the only two vampires in Austin?”

Cian nodded. “Exactly.”

“And you didn't make any more vampires?”

He nodded again.

“And no other vampires even tried to move in?”

“Oh, no. A few did.”

“And what? They didn't like you or something?” She pulled her skirt down over her thighs

and looked around the room again. She noted the paintings and old movie posters with some

interest.

“No. I killed them.”

She jerked her chin toward him as her eyes widened. In an instant, she was on her feet and

running for the nearest door. To her dismay, he grabbed her arm and whirled her around.

“Don't be foolish,” he snarled at her.

“I've already been killed once,” she cried out and slugged him.

He let her go and she backed away from him.

“I don't want to go through it again!”

Running down a long hallway, she saw a heavy metal door at the end. This seemed a likely

exit and she pushed her body as hard as she could to make it to the door. She ran smack into Cian

as he materialized in front of her.

“Shit,” she gasped.

He grabbed her upper arm firmly and hauled her back down the hall. It was obvious he was

stronger and faster than she was. Going limp, she let him guide her, but knew she would bolt the

second she got a chance. They were almost the same height, but he seemed to tower over her as

he manhandled her back into the living room. He flung her back onto the sofa and pointed a stern

finger in her face.

“Do not do that again,” he ordered. “I'm older and more powerful than you. Remember that.”

Impulsively, she kicked his ass as he turned to return to his chair and he whirled about to give

her a piercing, red-flamed glare.

“Whoa,” she whispered. “Do my eyes do that?”

“Yes.”

“That explains a lot,” she muttered, remembering Mae, Damon and Kelly Ann's looks of

horror.

He sat back down, crossed his legs at his ankles and folded his hands over his stomach. “Let's

talk.”

Rubbing her head again, she sank back on the sofa and curled her legs up on the seat. “Why?

So you can know who I am before you kill me?”

“I didn't say I was going to kill you. I said I had killed others. You didn't wait to hear why I

killed them, did you?” His Irish brogue was coming out more. It had just been a hint earlier.

“So why did you kill them?”

“They were sloppy. They killed and left far too much evidence of what they were. They

risked exposing all of our kind, so I killed them, which is my duty as the oldest in the city.”

She licked her lips as she considered her own actions the last few nights.

Crap. I'm fucked, she thought dismally.

Cian studied her expression and sighed a little. “I know about what you did at the campus.

The Satanic killings were actually you. As was the truck driver killed in Dallas.” He lifted a

couple of newspaper clippings off the table next to him. “And I have a feeling this woman who

died in East Texas of mysterious causes was you.”

“She was on her way to kill her ex-husband and kidnap her kids,” Amaliya said defensively.

Cian smiled at this. “So it was you.”

“Look, no one told me how to do this! I've been trying to figure it out for the last few days. I

even burned my fingers trying to see if sunlight affects me! I didn't get a manual when this

happened. I didn't get any sort of orientation or a workshop. I woke up buried alive! Okay? Alive

in a stupid grave in the stupid forest! I was out of my freaking mind. I don't even know how I

found that secret orgy and...and...” She licked her lips, remembering her first bite, the way the

blood had filled her. Unknown to her, her eyes flamed red at the memory. She limply sank back

in her chair. “I didn't mean to kill all those people.”

Cian was stoic as he listened to her. “I know.”

“I just did what...what...”

“Felt natural.”

“Yeah.”

“I did the same thing. Half a plantation of slaves and their masters. I couldn't stop killing. I

only stopped when the priest arrived and drove me back into the night.” He leaned forward,

elbows on his knees, and rubbed his hands together. “I do understand.”

Blood tears started creeping down her face. “I don't feel bad though. But I should, right? I

mean, I know what I did was wrong, but there is a part of me that is fine with it. What I did.”

“You were surviving. The first hunt is the most important. If you don't drink enough blood,

you can go permanently mad.” His gaze leveled with hers and he seemed slightly less terrifying.

“It is hard. The first nights. My hunger remained unquenched for four nights. By then I had most

of Barbados hunting me. Since you killed at the college, how many times have you fed?”

Amaliya rubbed her brow and sighed. “Well, this guy named Pete. I didn't kill him though.

He's a friend from my childhood. My cousin told me he's in the hospital.”

“Your cousin? You've had contact with your family?” Cian looked shocked.

“Yeah. I saw my grandma and my cousin last night. I saw my Dad and stepmom the night

before along with my crazy Aunt Mae and my asshole brother, Damon.”

Cian looked completely startled by this. “And you didn't kill them?”

“Hell no! Well, I was tempted with my stupid aunt, but no.”

“So you haven't been as famished as you were the first night?”

Shaking her head, Amaliya fiddled with her nose piercing again. “No. I did get really weak

and hungry after I burned my fingers and healed them. That is why I bit Pete.”

“You woke up during the day?”

“Yeah. So?”

Cian's eyes narrowed. “That is rare. We usually cannot rise during the day at all. Only when

we feel threatened and often we're not completely conscious.”

“Well, I woke up that second day. I was scared of the sunlight.”

“I see. And when did you feed again?”

“Um, that night.”

“The second night after you woke up?”

“Yeah. I drained that crazy ass woman who wanted to kill her ex and take the kids. And I felt

okay for the rest of the night. I hitched a ride to Dallas with that guy Rob.” Her face clouded at

the memory. “Everything was fine until he got into my hotel room and started trying to...” She

swept her hair back from her face. Her gaze grew distant as she remembered the horrible feel of

his hands on her. “So I beat the shit out of him. And drank his blood. Then....” She looked at her

long nails. She had already chipped the polish on them. “I kinda tore him up. I was pissed.”

Cian blinked slowly, then said, “Okay.”

“Look, I didn't know these rules you're talking about, okay! He put his hand down into my

panties and was trying to make me suck him off! There was no way I was doing that! And he had

no trouble hitting me or kicking me!” The thought of the short-lived battle made her skin flush

and her eyes began to glow again. “He had it coming to him.”

“I agree,” Cian answered calmly.

“Oh,” Amaliya felt her defensiveness fade away slowly. “Oh. Well, yeah; he did.”

“And last night. Where did you feed?”

Fiddling with her skull ring this time, she answered softly, “I didn't. I went home and saw my

Grandmama and my cousin Sergio. That's where I got the Lincoln to come here.”

“And they didn't freak out because you're supposed to be dead?” Cian's voice was sounding

dangerous again.

“They think I'm on the run from the Satanists. That I escaped.” Somehow she knew that he

could not know that her cousin and grandmother knew exactly what she was. It was dangerous

for her and for them.

Cian rubbed his chin, then nodded. “That makes sense. Did they ask you why you hadn't gone

to the police?”

“Yeah, but I told them I couldn't. I think...” she hesitated. “I think I told them cops were in the

cult.”

“That was smart of you,” Cian said with a bemused smile.

“Hey, I'm not always stupid. Just sometimes.” And she thought bitterly of Professor Sumner's

offer for coffee. Why on earth would a man like him be interested in a tattooed girl who was into

metalheads?

“So you have not fed since the trucker?”

She shook her head, then rubbed her stomach. “I am getting hungry though. I should go,

right?”

“No,” he answered coolly. “You shouldn't.”

Looking down at her hands, she felt tears swell up. She hadn't cried this much in years and it

was pissing her off to no end. “Look, I know I fucked up, but I didn't mean to. Please, don't kill

me. I want to learn how to be...this.” She waved her hand distractedly at her tears and her mouth.

Her fangs were still pressing down. She could feel them with her tongue now. She was growing

hungrier.

“I'm not going to kill you.” He rubbed one hand over his short hair, mussing it up. It only

seemed spikier and sexier. “Who made you Amaliya?”

She let out a slow, wavering sigh. “His name is Professor Sumner. He was supposed to be this

bigwig psychologist from England. It was a big deal that he was teaching a psychology class and

I signed up for it immediately. He was so smart and so sexy and I had the stupidest, biggest crush

on him. Then one night he asked me out for coffee and I went with him.” Tears seeped down her

face and dangled on her chin. “He killed me.” She wiped at her face with her fingers, smearing it

with her bloody tears.

“And woke up buried in the forest?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see him at all? Did he speak to you?”

Blushing a little, she nodded. “He came to the room where the orgy was and I had already

started to...eat. He blocked the door and wouldn't let anyone out as I killed them. Then he...” She

rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. “He took blood from me again. When I woke up he was

talking to me. Telling me that I was now a vampire and he was anxious to see if I would survive

or something like that. He wouldn't be helping me, but watching me from a distance. He did give

me his coat to cover up, though. But he said that was all the help he would give me.” She slowly

dropped her gaze back to Cian. “I think I feel him sometimes. And I get afraid.”

Cian pressed his lips together, then slowly lowered his head, rubbing the top of it again. “I

see.”

“I don't know the rules. I don't know what I can or can't do. I don't even know what my

powers are! You gotta understand that!”

“I do. I do.” Cian stood up and walked to a nearby window to stare out at the city. “We have

the same creator. He said nearly those exact same words to me.”

“So you know who the asshole is?”

“Yes, I do. Or at least the legend about him,” Cian answered somberly.

Amaliya stood up and walked over to him. “You have to tell me. You can't leave me in the

dark. He's stalking my ass.”

Cian looked at her then sighed. “You're right. I will tell you...”

* * *

Cian stared into the blue-gray eyes of the young vampire and felt a pang of sorrow for her.

She was terribly innocent despite her sultry, bad girl look. The fact that she had survived thus far

was truly amazing. He was shocked that she was not only not mad with the hunger, but she was

actually quite lucid. She also seemed to have a good sense of self. Despite himself, he was kind

of liking her.

“Well?” She crossed her arms. “Tell me.”

“Very well. His real name is unknown, but he is called The Summoner. Legend says he is

very ancient, a Chaldean necromancer of Sumeria. The story I was told was that he could

manipulate the dead and have them do his bidding. He grew more and more powerful and

terrified the king, who ordered his death. The king sent an armed regiment to kill The

Summoner, but an army of the dead defeated them. And as each of the king's soldiers fell, they

rose to defend The Summoner as a dead warrior. The Summoner seemed to have the kingdom in

the palm of his hand when a witch cursed him to die. He could not revoke the curse and was

afflicted with a great illness. But he had heard of the living dead, those who drink blood to

survive and wander the night.”

“This sounds like a bad horror movie,” Amaliya interjected.

“Maybe,” he conceded and thought Bruce Campbell would be great in it. “But it may be the

truth. Anyway, he had heard of vampires, and he summoned one with a potent spell. Of course,

the legend says it was one of the first vampires in creation, but it doesn't matter who it was. The

terribleness of it was that The Summoner managed to capture a vampire and torture it. At last,

the vampire revealed how The Summoner could become a vampire.”

“He should have kept his damn mouth shut.”

“Her mouth shut. A beautiful, ancient blood drinking goddess, so the story goes. He made her

drink his blood, then sliced her throat and drank hers. And then he died. And when he died, all

his dead companions died once more. The vampire screamed for three days and nights and all

who dared to approach his haven could hear her. But no one would go in and rescue her. The

Summoner rose on the third night, but he had forgotten the restrictions of his new existence.”

“He can't go out in sunlight.”

“Exactly. It took awhile for the King and his advisors to figure it out. But they began to notice

that every day the dead army vanished from their posts. They finally were brave enough to

invade during the day. The Summoner was nearly burned to death by the invaders and his mortal

servants barely managed to escape with him. No one knows what happened to his prisoner. I

suppose she was killed.”

“Poor thing. Being stuck with that sadistic sonofabitch her last nights on earth,” Amaliya

decided.

“I agree. But the legend says that The Summoner was angered by his limitations. Daylight

effectively destroyed all his spells cast by night. So he learned how to manipulate mankind

through other means.”

“The games he plays with our heads,” Amaliya snorted.

“Exactly. A lot of the old vampires blame him for wars and pestilence and all sorts of troubles

through the ages, but I think it’s just The Summoner giving himself credit to make him more

terrifying to his own kind. He made me over three hundred years ago and spent a good while

torturing me over that time. I am one of the few of his children that is still alive. He slaughters

most of us. We're his pawns. His toys.” Cian could feel his bitterness rising once more. “I have

spent a large portion of the last fifty years ensuring he would leave me be.”

“Does he?”

Cian nodded. Of course, the price he had paid had been high, but now he was closer to his

mortal existence than he had ever been throughout the centuries. At times, he felt almost human.

“Will he leave me alone?”

“No,” Cian said softly. “No, he won't. It's only a few days into his game. He's seeing if you’ll

survive on your own. How strong you are. Do not doubt, he is watching you.” Cian's gaze swept

over the city slowly. “He is probably in Austin watching us at this very moment.”

The thought angered him and, for the thousandth time, he thought he should just kill Amaliya

and spare her the torment that was to come. A large portion of that inclination was him feeling

immensely selfish. He had fought long and hard to remove himself from The Summoner's

influence. Having Amaliya with him was just an invitation to have the ancient vampire back in

his life.

Amaliya rested her forehead on the glass and stared down into the street below. People were

on their way to the clubs, laughing and talking animatedly. Cian could almost read her thoughts

and he saw the weariness settle into her shoulders. She understood and he was strangely

comforted with that knowledge.

“It's like having the world's worst stalker on your case,” she said at last.

“That it is,” Cian admitted.

“Why does he do it? Make us then torture us? Stalk us? Not help us?”

“It amuses him. He's old and bored. He doesn't wield the power he did alive so he plays these

games to make himself more powerful. Or at least that is my official diagnosis of his psychosis.”

“Why don't the other vampires kill him?”

Her gaze was so soft and afraid. She almost looked human, but her skin was too pale and

translucent and her eyes glittered.

“Most of the ancients are in Europe. There are a few in South and Central America, but they

never travel this far north. North America, and I'm including the U.S., Canada, and Mexico, have

much younger vampires. I am most likely one of the oldest here. He’s thousands of years old and

possibly one of the very first of our kind to walk the earth. Despite his limitations in his magic,

he is quite dangerous. We all live with the knowledge that should he decide to wreak havoc on

the earth, he could. By night, of course, but how much damage could an army of the dead do in

one night against mortals?”

“Why hasn't he done it yet?”

Cian shrugged. “No one knows. Rumors are that he tried once and the Ancients crushed his

army and crippled him. In other words, wounded him so terribly it took decades to heal. But it's

all legend and rumors. What I have seen him do with my own eyes is enough to terrify me.”

The girl's shoulders drooped even more. “I'm pretty much dead, aren't I? Even if you don't kill

me, he will.”

Cian turned to look at her. In the light of his apartment, she looked younger than she had in

the club. Her black hair fell long and untethered almost to her waist. Her body was shapely

without being heavy. The tattoo on her arm was marred and he could see where it had probably

held a cross or rosary tucked into the design before her transformation. He had caught a glimpse

of the wings on her back earlier. She was very different from Samantha, yet both of them looked

very Austin.

“The one thing about being a vampire is that you become immensely terrified of death,” he

said finally.

She looked at him with a plaintive expression on her face. “Tell me about it.” She ran the

back of her foot down her other leg and sighed. “Can I go eat now? I'm really really hungry.”

“No,” he said with a weary sigh. “It's not safe anymore. You will have to stay here.”

“Look, I have a hotel room. I have a car. I can get the hell out of Austin.”

“And go where?”

She shrugged. “Maybe Mexico. Or New Orleans?”

Cian laughed at that. “There is no Lestat living there. There is a Master there, but she'd rather

kill you than deal with you.”

Amaliya sighed softly. “I can't stay here. I got my own life to figure out.”

“Just stay here tonight and we'll sort it out. You are right. You do need to learn our ways or

you won't survive. I can teach you. Then you can go. Decide where you want to go and just go. I

won't stop you.”

He didn't mean for his voice to sound harsh, but he was angry at himself for not immediately

turning her out. But he just couldn't do it. No one had been there for him when he had become

what he was. Just throwing her into the night seemed inordinately cruel and very much like

something The Summoner would do. He would not walk in the footsteps of his creator.

“You got blood in storage or something? Because I'm starving.”

Cian could see that she was struggling. Her skin was looking even paler and her eyes were

sparkling dangerously. He reached out and touched her cheek and found it cold to his touch.

“No. But I have fed tonight. You can drink from me.”

She glanced at his neck and drew slightly away. “What will that do?”

“Nourish you,” he snapped, then said in a softer voice, “It will enable you not to feed for

another day or two without hunger. I apologize. I have not been around my own kind very often

over the last thirty years.”

Giving him a sharp look through slitted eyes, she moved away from the window. Her arms

folded over her breasts, she looked around the apartment taking in the furnishings and the

artwork. “My car is down in a parking lot. They'll tow it if it’s still there in the morning.”

“I'll send Roberto to get it,” he answered.

“My clothes are at the hotel,” she added.

“He can get those, too.”

Cian hit an intercom button and Roberto's voice said, “Yes?”

“Could you come down here? We have a guest and I need you to attend to some duties.”

“Of course.”

“You have a servant?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. “You're so the cliché.”

She hesitated. “I think.”

“Never watched vampire movies I take it?”

“Salem's Lot scared the crap out of me as a kid. That floating little boy vampire scared me to

death and I never watched another vampire movie after that.”

Cian smiled and had to agree. Child vampires were terrifying; he had met a few in his time.

Roberto appeared and gave their tattooed guest a look of disapproval.

“I need you to take care of Ms. Vezorak's car and retrieve her personal belongings from a

hotel.”

Much to his amusement, Amaliya pulled her car keys and the key to her hotel out of her bra

and handed them to Roberto. The man could not have looked more horrified.

“The car is in the lot up on 7th and the hotel is down by Riverside.” Amaliya looked at

Roberto thoughtfully. He regarded her like she was a bug.

“I take it she is staying for a short period of time?”

Cian chuckled at Roberto's emphasis on the word “short.”

“Yes, yes. We have business to attend to.”

Roberto slightly narrowed his eyes, then nodded. He looked down at the key card and saw the

hotel name and address.

“My car is a big black Lincoln. I put a Rolling Stone air freshener on the rearview mirror.”

The Hispanic man's gaze grew more pained, but he nodded. “I will return shortly.” He turned

on his heel and walked stiffly down the hall to the front door.

“He's a little bitch,” Amaliya muttered to Cian.

“You have no idea,” he responded.

Giving him a soft smile, she wandered away to explore the library and he watched her go. She

was dangerous to him and he could feel it. Already her power was growing. She had survived a

whole night without feeding. Obviously, she would be a force to reckon with as she grew older.

That was the way it was with some of those who were given the dark gift; their adaptation to

their new life was almost seamless and without the struggles of some. He was glad for her. It

would make things easier. But at the same time, he knew if she was not careful, her strength of

mind and power would only make The Summoner's torture of her that much sweeter.