Chapter 4

     Julian missed Caitlin desperately, much more than he had expected he would. He spent the 
first week sulking, the second snapping at everybody until finally, Daedalus told him off. The 
Nosferatu’s scorn stung even more than Caitlin’s absence. He made an effort to act on Daedalus’ 
last retort:
     "You’re a Prince, Julian. Behave like one!"
     He buried himself in work daily, but the nights were difficult to get through. Even when he 
spent several hours out hunting, feeding till he could drink no more every night, there were hours in 
the early evenings and just before dawn when the loneliness hurt most.
     Caitlin called every few days. She made a habit of calling late in the evenings, the time 
difference making it early mornings for Julian. But he made sure that he was always available when 
her calls came through. The sound of her voice made him want her, and she had always something 
tender to say to him, apart from reporting on her progress.
     "I miss you," they would tell each other, and they both meant it.
     Julian started visiting the Haven every other evening. He knew about the affair that Lillie was 
carrying on with Frank Kohanek, and it made him feel secure in her company. Therefore, he was 
totally unprepared when she sought him out one night and asked him to dance. The music had 
turned to a soft romantic melody. He danced with her, her body moving enticingly in his arms, 
reminding him of what had been. He felt apprehensive, well aware of what Lillie’s touch could do to 
a man, Kindred or mortal. But Lillie didn’t try anything, she kept the conversation light, a smile on 
her face, her eyes averted. 
     Julian saw Frank Kohanek enter the club. A shadow passed over his features when he saw 
Lillie dancing with her former lover. He sat down in one of the booths. When the music ended, 
Julian steered Lillie towards Frank’s table. The last thing he needed right now was a jealous cop 
coming after him. Nevertheless, he was shocked by a pang of jealousy himself when he saw Lillie 
kiss the policeman.
     "You shouldn’t leave a beautiful lady on her own," he said more sharply than he had intended 
to. "Someone may steal her."
     But Frank Kohanek was in a foul mood.
     "Shouldn’t you heed your own advice?" he retorted belligerently. It stung.
     "Alas," Julian made a placating gesture, "my lady is thousands of miles away."
     Before he turned away however, he caught the white light that sparkled in Lillie’s eyes at his 
words and knew that nothing had been forgotten as he felt his own eyes respond with a green 
shimmer. 
     He decided to stay away from the Haven in the future; but Lillie’s burning flash of naked 
desire followed him for days, awakening feelings within him that would have been best kept locked 
away if Caitlin had been around. Within a week he was back in the club, but the first person he ran 
into was Cameron, and he regretted that he had come. 
     Cameron growled when he saw Julian, but then checked himself. Later, when those who had 
accompanied Julian were dancing or hanging around the bar, leaving him alone in the booth, 
Cameron dared to approach the Prince. To his surprise, Julian allowed him to sit down at his table, 
offering him a glass of wine. Cameron had only intended to greet Julian Luna formally; it was his 
duty as Primogen to acknowledge the Prince’s presence.
     What does the bloody Ventrue want? he wondered.
     But Julian didn’t want anything. He posed the usual questions about the Brujah Clan and its 
business, demanding nothing and offering nothing. The Brujahs had been behaving unusually well 
lately. Cameron became aware that all other Kindred in the club were watching them. At last he 
gathered up his courage and asked:
     "What’s going on?"
     Julian allowed a shadow of a smile to show.
     "What do you think is going on?" he retorted.
     And then it struck Cameron. He was being pardoned, officially! Sitting at the Prince’s table, 
sharing his wine, he was no longer pariah to the other Clans. The wave of relief that swept over him 
made him feel ashamed. He hated being grateful to Julian Luna. 
     The Prince nodded dismissal, the show was over. But before Cameron left, he posed another 
question:
     "How is Caitlin doing?" He knew that he had made a mistake when he saw Julian’s face set 
into stony hostility.
     "To you she doesn’t exist," the Prince said coldly. 
     Cameron backed away. He had been pardoned, but not forgiven.
     Cameron sat at his table, his Brujah friends surrounding him, still dazzled. A barmaid had 
brought wine they hadn’t ordered. 
     "It’s on the house," she said. 
     When Cameron looked up, he saw Lillie nod and smile from a distance. Other Kindred started 
strolling towards his table. Suddenly, he was lavished with more attention than the Prince himself. 
The hate made his triumph taste bitter. How could one man hold such power?! He glanced at Julian 
Luna, but there was someone sitting opposite him and the Prince’s eyes were focused on that 
person. Cameron concentrated on being amiable to those who addressed him, while his mind was 
busy imagining how he could decapitate Luna with the same Japanese sword that had been used to 
cut off Eddie’s head. But his mind wouldn’t heed his wishes entirely, and he saw the three dead 
bodies in Manzanita; Julian Luna had killed them, unarmed and gravely injured. Daedalus had been 
barely able to stop him when he had lashed out at Cameron. No, Cameron wasn’t yet ready to 
match his strength against the Prince’s. 
     Another picture came unbidden into his mind. Caitlin, her blond hair fluttering in the breeze, 
her soft voice calling Julian’s name, the dark head against her shuddering body... Cameron choked 
on the wine, but when he looked again, the booth on the other side of the room was empty.
     A young woman had slipped into his booth. Julian’s senses identified her instantly: a human.
     "May I?" she asked although she was already seated. He nodded smiling and looked her over 
appraisingly. She wasn’t very pretty but seemed fresh and wasn’t too intoxicated. Short dark hair, a 
little on the plump side. Her blue eyes looked straight into his as she pushed her empty glass 
towards him. 
     A pro looking for a customer? Julian wondered and his smile broadened. Maybe I should pay 
for my meals every now and then.
     He poured some wine into her glass and her hand took his when he let go of the bottle.
     "Isn’t it boring to sit here all by yourself?" she asked. Julian didn’t remove his hand from her 
grasp and looked pointedly at their joined fingers saying:
     "I’m not all by myself, am I?"
     She looked at the couples whirling on the dancing floor before her gaze returned to him.
     "How about a dance?" But Julian shook his head.
     "Not my tune." He leaned closer to her. "I have a better proposition. Let’s find a less crowded 
place."
     She nodded, blushing. 
     An amateur in desperate search for male company, Julian concluded. He knew every nook 
and cranny in the Haven. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find some deserted room.
     "My name is Amy," she said as he led her up the stairs. As soon as the door closed behind 
them and they were in an empty corridor, she turned to him, her arms closing around his neck, and 
kissed him. He responded to the kiss and felt his body react as she pressed softly against him. He 
lifted her and carried her into a poolroom that he knew was seldom used. As he had expected, it was 
deserted. He let go of her and turned to lock the door. When he faced her again she was taking of 
her clothes, slowly, suggestively. He watched her, surprised by how little reaction he felt. She 
stopped suddenly and he realized that she expected him to follow suit. Reluctantly, he removed his 
jacket and his shirt. In the next moment she was close to him, his belt coming loose in her hands. 
She dragged him down; the carpet was rough under his back and buttocks. She held his face with 
both hands, kissing him passionately, her body pressing him down as she straddled him. The 
inbred instinct of an eighteenth-century gentleman prevented him from using force against a woman 
when his life wasn’t in danger. 
     She has more limbs than an octopus! he thought as his hands slid over her sweating skin. Her 
movements became jerky, her breathing labored. He pressed a hand between their bodies, his 
fingers reaching her and helping her over the edge. He was rewarded as she cried out, throwing her 
head back, her throat exposed. His teeth sunk deep into her carotid artery and he drunk her blood in 
big gulps. It was hot and sweet and still bubbling with the sexual excitement he had provided.
     Well, Julian thought wryly, I’ve paid for my meal anyway!
     He disengaged himself from the unconscious girl. Carrying on with a lifeless body wasn’t 
enticing even though his own lust hadn’t been quenched. He put on his clothes and bent over the 
prone figure, making sure that the wound on her throat was closing rapidly. He took one of her 
discarded garments and wiped off the blood that was already drying on her skin. He wanted to 
leave, but to let her wake up alone and naked in one of the back rooms of the Haven might be 
unwise. He took her in his arms and, after checking that there was no trace left of his bite, he let his 
hand pass over her face. Her eyes fluttered open. Julian produced a worried expression. 
     "You passed out," he said. "That was unkind."
     She tried to get up and he helped her to her feet. She smiled at him shakily.
     "It has never happened to me before." Her hand moved to her throat. Apparently, there was 
some sensation left. He had awakened her too early. "What happened?" she asked.
     "I don’t know." Julian’s lie had years of practice. "You screamed and then you were gone. I 
was afraid that you’d suffered a stroke." He looked at her accusingly. "You scared the hell out of 
me." He was deliberately cruel because he didn’t want her to come after him again. As he had 
expected, she put her clothes on with swift, angry movements and stomped out of the poolroom 
without another word. He laughed when the door closed behind her. Works every time!

     Lillie, who had access to everything and everywhere in the Haven, covered the peephole and 
turned away smiling. This was the Julian she recognized. Whoever that sex mad girl was, she 
certainly got what she deserved! The scream still echoed in Lillie’s mind, making her shudder. Had 
she ever screamed like that? Not with Frank. She stood hesitating for a moment before running out, 
but when she entered the poolroom, Julian was no longer there. She went down to the club and saw 
him in his booth: his clothes were in perfect order, every hair in place, his face bland. Several men 
were seated at his table, all Kindred. Lillie went to the bar, took a bottle of wine and some glasses.
     "I thought you might want some more," she said, placing them on the table. The murmurs of 
thanks went past her as her eyes met Julian’s. She became aware of the double meaning of her 
remark when she saw him flinch. She saw the green shimmer and she saw the muscles of his jaws 
clench.
     Bye, bye Caitlin, she thought triumphantly as she moved away after letting him see her own 
incandescent response. 
     Julian managed to stay away from the Haven and from Lillie for another week, knowing 
perfectly well that he would give in eventually. Lillie didn’t try to contact him, knowing just as well 
that her allure didn’t need any enhancement. It was a battle of wills, and Julian lost. He found out 
through Sonny when Frank was working nights. Not that he was afraid, but walking in on that cop 
would only complicate matters. He came to the club when it was long past midnight. It was just 
closing down. He found Lillie seated in one of the booths, a stack of bills in front of her, a glass of 
wine in her hand. He slid soundlessly into a seat, facing her.
     "You took your time," she said in a low voice.
     "Lillie," he said, "I’m afraid I shouldn’t even be here," he shrugged helplessly, "but I couldn’t 
stay away." 
     Lillie smiled her imperious smile.
     "Julian, you’re always welcome." She put the papers away and took his hand. "Come," she 
said simply. He followed her, his willpower gone.


     Frank found them in the early morning. Sonny had come into the police station earlier than 
usual and told Frank that there had been some trouble in the Haven during the night. Frank went to 
the club unsuspecting, he just wanted to make sure that everything was all right. He was shocked 
and dismayed. Caught in the act was hardly the right description of what he saw. They were in 
Lillie’s private room above the club, both naked, their bodies dripping with blood from the wounds 
they had inflicted on each other, seemingly unaware of the world around them. 
     Frank didn’t stop to think. He grabbed the first thing that looked like a weapon, a poker, and 
attacked them with a shout of rage. But Julian was swifter than Frank had expected. He shoved 
Lillie away and was moving aside when the poker came down. Instead of hitting his head, it landed 
on his shoulder and Frank was gratified by the audible snap of a bone breaking. But in the next 
moment, the poker was wrestled out of his hand and he was thrown down on the floor, Julian’s 
hand squeezing his throat, a knee planted firmly on his chest. No matter how much he struggled, 
Frank couldn’t get out of Julian’s grip. Even with one arm useless, his superior strength was a 
distinct advantage. Frank tried to talk, but the strangling hand made it impossible. He saw with 
horror that Julian’s face was absolutely expressionless: that he was being murdered in cold blood. 
His vision began to blur; he heard Lillie’s scream, but it sounded as if she were far away, and 
everything went totally black.
     Frank was still lying on the floor when he regained consciousness. Something had been put 
under his legs, so the first things he saw were his own shoes. The sight seemed so ridiculous that 
he started to laugh. A hoarse croak came out. He had a headache that was a pride to its species, his 
throat hurt like hell and his ribs screamed in protest against every breath he took; but he was alive 
and it genuinely surprised him. He tried to look around but his head advised him against it. Lillie’s 
face came into his field of vision.
     "Frank, can you hear me?" she asked.
     He tried to answer, but all he managed to produce was another croak. He decided that it was all 
the conversation he was capable of and shut his mouth. Lillie touched his face lightly and turned 
away saying:
     "He is conscious, but I think you damaged something in his throat. He can’t talk." 
     Now, it was Julian’s turn to appear in front of Frank’s eyes. He was only half-dressed, and 
Frank noticed with satisfaction that he favored his left arm. He touched Frank’s neck and chest very 
gently.
     "A few broken ribs, his throat will be all right," he said turning to Lillie. Then his gaze 
returned to Frank. 
     "How could you be so stupid?" he asked. "You are playing with fire, this isn’t the first time 
you’ve nearly provoked me into killing you. Next time you attack me, choose something more 
effective than a piece of cast iron. You only managed to make me angry."
     Frank made an effort.
     "I... broke your arm," he hissed.
     Julian started to shrug but grimaced in pain.
     "My arm will be all right in a couple of hours, it will take weeks for your ribs to heal. Why did 
you do it? How did you know I was here?"
     "I didn’t." Frank’s speech was getting better. "They said at the station that there had been 
some trouble at the club." He omitted Sonny’s name meticulously. "I... just went mad... when I saw 
you two... thought of Alexandra. Why can’t you leave her alone!"
     Julian and Lillie looked at each other, and Frank could almost feel the invisible bond between 
them.
     "Frank," Julian said at last, "Lillie and I are Kindred. We go back... more than a hundred 
years. What’s between us is forever, nothing can change that."
     "Yeah?" In spite of his disadvantageous position, Frank was warming up for a fight. "What 
about Caitlin Byrne?"
     "I love Caitlin but she is a mortal, and I want her to remain one, although it means that I’ll lose 
her eventually." The smile on Julian’s face was so sad and full of pain that Frank lost his appetite 
for arguing. Somehow, fighting when the opponent wasn’t cooperating gave him no satisfaction.
     Julian rose to his feet and, putting his good arm around Lillie, kissed her on the forehead the 
way a brother might kiss a sister.
      "I’ll leave now," he said. "Lillie will get you a doctor. If you tell him that you have been 
squashed by a vampire, he’ll probably put you in an asylum."
     After Julian had gone and Lillie stopped giggling, she returned to Frank’s side.
     "What happened, really?" he asked her. 
     "Really?" she said. "You really tried to bash in the head of the Prince of San Francisco, and 
lived to tell the story. No one else has. He must like you a lot. What possessed you?!" She started 
to sound angry, but Frank avoided her question.
     "I mean, why didn’t he kill me?" He remembered the dead man without a throat in the bank.
     "I told him it would be bad publicity for the Haven," Lillie’s anger wasn’t subsiding. "No, 
frankly, he let go when you passed out. I couldn’t have stopped him even if I had tried."
     "Thank you very much!" Frank said bitterly, but Lillie’s face was serious.
     "Get one thing straight, Frank," she said coldly, "if Julian hadn’t broken a few of your ribs, I 
would have. I like you, but you can never replace Julian. Do you understand?!" She was shouting, 
her eyes flashing white lightning.
     "Yeah, I get it," Frank said trying to pick himself up, but the pain in his chest made him fall 
back with a grunt. Lillie stared at him angrily for a moment longer, then went to the phone to call a 
doctor.
     Frank was taken to a hospital, examined and patched up. There was a police investigation. 
Remembering Julian’s acidic comment, he said that he never saw his assailant and Lillie 
corroborated his story. Tests were made, there was some blood on Frank’s neck that wasn’t his. 
The lab computer had a field day blinking a Match found display in red. As it turned out, the blood 
found on Frank matched one of the samples of semen found in connection with a rape case of one 
Caitlin Byrne some months ago. The information was filed and stored for future use. The rapist in 
the case of Ms. Byrne had never been apprehended.
     Frank tried to break it off with Lillie after that incident, but was unable to. She never 
mentioned what had happened and neither did he. But when Sonny asked what had happened to 
him - his ribs took weeks to heal just as Julian had predicted - he said that he had been squashed by 
a vampire. Eventually, Sonny dragged the whole story out of him, and Frank was surprised by the 
look of horror on his partner’s face. It made him understand that what Lillie had told him was true. 
He was probably the only person, mortal or Kindred, who had made an unsuccessful attempt to kill 
a Prince and lived to tell. He didn’t see Julian Luna during the following weeks, neither in the 
Haven nor anywhere near Lillie Langtry. Nor did he ask her if she saw Julian again.

     Frank’s attack had a sobering effect on Julian. Being with Lillie had been... enjoyable, nothing 
more. He longed for Caitlin’s warmth, realizing that he needed her love more than he needed sex. 
He had seen that girl from the club a few days before. As it turned out, she worked at the Times. He 
recognized her in spite of glasses and a business suit, but pretended that he didn’t. Seeing her there 
made him suspect that her advances in the Haven were not mere coincidence. He hoped that she 
wouldn’t run babbling to Caitlin on her return, but if she did, well, there were ways to make a girl 
forget. No problem for a Kindred. Still, it was another mess that he had no need of. Daedalus had 
tended to his broken shoulder, never asking one question. The Nosferatu was wise indeed. He had 
made some ill-humored noises and said:
     "Julian, getting into a brawl over a woman doesn’t become you."
     As usual, Daedalus’ scorn stung more than the actual injury.
     He decided to stay celibate. After all, the reports from the Gangrel couple in Europe described 
Caitlin’s behavior as impeccable.

     Amy was angry, scared, humiliated and thoroughly unhappy, not necessarily in that order. 
How stupid can a girl get! She had run into Julian once in the office a couple of weeks before 
Caitlin was supposed to return from Europe. His indifferent expression told her that he didn’t even 
recognize her. Maybe it was just as well. But she hated him anyway. 
     How could he forget?! She certainly couldn’t. 
     She had gone to the Haven because she had heard that he was sometimes there. She had 
watched him, devising means to approach him. The first time she made her move, she was beaten by 
that handsome young man. The next time Julian was alone in his booth, she closed in on her quarry 
before anyone else. It seemed almost ridiculous, how easy he was to seduce. To cut Caitlin out, that 
would make Amy’s day. What she didn’t expect was that her day would be made in a very different 
way. The memory made her squirm. 
     Oh, God! she thought, I’m twenty-five, and that was the first time a man had made me come! 
And now, he doesn’t even recognize me!
     He had allowed her total freedom to do as she pleased, his hands hardly touching her. She had 
rubbed against him, exciting herself, fully aware that it would lead to nothing: the frustration 
overwhelming her as it had always done in the past. And then, quite casually, his hand was on her, 
propelling her into another dimension: the inhibitions of her whole life swept away in one 
exploding moment. No wonder she had passed out!
     He had chased her away afterwards like some cheap tart. Damn him to hell!
     Anamaria Weatherstone wasn’t used to being treated like a tart. After all, she was the heiress
to the Weatherstone&Reilly fortune, one of the biggest construction companies on the West Coast. 
Well, one of the heirs anyway. Her father had bought her the glamorous job as a reporter for the 
San Francisco Times and she liked it. Lots of men around. Only she had set her eyes on the one 
man who wouldn’t be impressed by the Weatherstone millions. Amy was spoiled and lazy, but she 
wasn’t stupid. She knew that she couldn’t point her plump finger at Julian Luna and say:
     "Daddy, buy me that!"
     She had heard about the reclusive Julian Luna long before she ever saw him. His name 
circulated among the rich and powerful of the city, and she was certainly one of the rich and 
powerful. Men talked about him with respect, the women in hushed voices. There was a mystery 
that was intriguing. When it became known that he had bought the San Francisco Times she was 
thrilled. When he turned up at a staff meeting at last, she had been amazed. He was much younger 
and much better looking than she had imagined. She understood what the hushed voices of the 
women in her set of acquaintances meant. 
     To her dismay, however she saw that the man she coveted was there for one purpose only. 
Caitlin Byrne, that pale, thin nobody! Promoted to editor in one blink of an eye. What did he see in 
her? The way he looked at her, there was no doubt that he was ridiculously infatuated with that cold 
fish. Amy had been there on that evening when Julian had locked the door to Caitlin’s office. Her 
desk was the nearest, she had heard everything and it had haunted her for months. Even in her 
dreams. When Caitlin had moved in with Julian, Amy was on the brink of giving up. And then, 
quite unexpectedly - unexpectedly for Caitlin that is - the opportunity to go to Europe had turned up 
and Caitlin was too professional to decline. Of course, Caitlin didn’t know that it had all been 
arranged by Weatherstone senior, as requested by his beloved daughter Anamaria. The old man was 
proud of his daughter’s altruism and was only too happy to oblige. Caitlin would be gone for two 
months and Amy started to stalk Julian Luna. She had set out to seduce him the moment she found 
him alone in the club, and she had succeeded beyond her wildest expectations. Everything inside 
her screamed for more. The evanescent moment of ecstasy she had experienced with him 
overshadowed her whole existence. And now, the devil didn’t even remember! Amy decided that it 
was time to remind him.

     Julian was at home. One of his rare headaches had forced him to make the day short. A 
thunderstorm was on its way, the clouds over the city dark and heavy with rain that had yet to fall. 
In his mortal life he had been susceptible to weather conditions, responding with a splitting 
headache to atmospheric changes. The ailment pursued him into his life as a Kindred, albeit the 
attacks were not as severe as in his youth. Still, unused as he was to being ill, he found the nuisance 
irritating, often breaking into a fit of rage at the slightest adversity. It was better to avoid company in 
such moments. Even Daedalus would keep out of his way. Amy had chosen the worst possible 
moment to confront Julian Luna. 
     He sat in the library, unable to read or listen to music, the fireplace the only source of light. 
His muscles refused to relax, the pain unabating, when a servant came in quietly and informed him 
that a young lady wanted to see him. 
     "Does she have a name?" he asked, the irritation in his voice apparent. He didn’t want to see 
anyone, a young lady least of all. The expression young lady used by his servant meant a human, 
otherwise the name and Clan would have been given.
     "Anamaria Weatherstone," the servant answered unperturbed. The name sounded familiar to 
Julian, but he couldn’t place it immediately.
     "No," he said. "Get rid of her!"
     "The lady was rather persistent," was the answer.
     "No!" Julian started to sound angry.
     The door closed and the soothing darkness and silence were restored. But seconds later, the 
servant was back.
     "She says it’s very important, concerning Miss Byrne." 
     Julian frowned, he had talked to Caitlin this very morning. What could be wrong?
     "All right," he sighed, "bring her in."
     He knew what was wrong the moment she entered the library. She had a dark dress on: it 
matched the color of her hair and suited her much better than the flimsy thing she had been wearing 
in the Haven. No glasses again. She squinted, trying to see Julian in the dark. He nodded to the 
servant who put the lights on, albeit dimly, and left. Julian and the young woman looked at each 
other. He knew what she wanted, it wasn’t the first time this had happened. A chill spread inside 
him, his hand rubbed his aching forehead, he hated these situations. He shook his head tiredly. It 
was just as well that she came now, while Caitlin was still in Europe. The message she had made the 
servant deliver was an evident threat. The first thunder made a deafening bang outside as she moved 
closer. A bolt of lightning filled the library with an eerie white light, sending a painful shock wave 
through Julian’s head. The intensive light blinded them both momentarily, making them blink. 
When Amy could see again after the library was returned to its subdued light, the chair that Julian 
had been sitting in was empty. 
     "Do you think it was wise to come here?" She heard Julian’s voice behind her. She spun 
around, her eyes widening in surprise; she hadn’t seen him move. Julian stood by the fireplace, his 
back against the flames. He was looking at her coldly.
     "I had to see you," she blurted out. "I had to," she repeated.
     "Why?" His voice disclosed nothing. 
     Let her come out with it and be done, he thought. He still had no idea what he should do 
about her, but he was sure of one thing: Caitlin must be kept ignorant. The young woman moved 
towards him, but stopped when another lightning bolt lit up the room. When the last growling 
sound of the thunder rolled away in the distance, she moved again, coming really close, too close. 
Julian had nowhere to go: the fire was only inches behind him. He tried to glide sideways out of her 
reach, but she stopped him, her hands taking hold of his upper arms. His muscles hardened under 
her palms in resentment, but she interpreted his reaction differently. 
     "I need you," she whispered, her body pressed against him, her voice husky. "I want you..."
     Julian turned around and she followed his motion, her back now against the fire. He didn’t try 
to disengage his arms from her grip, that old upbringing haunting him again. But when she let her 
hands move up, encircling his neck, her face straining up in search of a kiss, he took hold of her 
wrists, broke her embrace and leaned away from her. She frowned, but didn’t draw back, her body 
pressing harder against his, her belly rubbing against his groin. Julian let go of her wrists and, 
grabbing her hips, pushed her away from him with a shout. He stopped himself at the last moment, 
realizing that he was on the verge of throwing her into the fire. Disgusted, he let go of her and 
moved out of her reach. There was another thunderbolt, much further away, rumbling as a distant 
growl in a wolf’s throat. Amy stood where he had left her, her body silhouetted by the roaring 
flames, her face filled with disbelief and hurt. 
     "You can’t treat me like this!" she screamed. "You can’t, you damn fool..."
     "Stop it!" Julian’s shout silenced her.
     She pressed both her hands over her mouth, her eyes filling with tears.
     "You’re making a fool of yourself," Julian tried to reason with her. "I think it would be best if 
you forgot what has happened here, as well as what happened at the Haven."
     She winced and her shoulders started to shake. 
     "Please, don’t make the situation more awkward than it already is." Julian realized that he 
wasn’t reaching her. She shook her head, refusing to listen to him. 
     "Forget?!" she shouted at last. "How can you say that?! How can you demand...?!" A sob 
racked her, but she stifled it and straightened her back, her eyes narrowing. "Do you think Caitlin 
would mind if I remembered what we did in that club?"
     Julian took a step back, cold fear gripping him. Of course, Amy didn’t remember the most 
important part of what had happened in the Haven, but what was important to Julian and what was 
important to Amy were two different things. 
     "It’s your word against mine!" Julian’s anger was taking over again. "Look at yourself," he 
continued contemptuously, "do you really imagine that Caitlin would believe you?"
     In truth, Julian would never have looked at Anamaria twice, had it not been for the blood in her 
veins. She spat at him, her whole body shaking with rage.
     "Oh yeah!" she exclaimed. "Do you know what I did afterwards?" She was shouting loudly.
"I went to the police! I told them that I’d been raped. They examined me. If I point you out, it will 
be proved that you were with me that night. I think that your sweet Caitlin will believe a police 
report!"
     Julian watched her rave. She was lying of course, he knew that he hadn’t left any traces in her, 
but her audacity enraged him even more.
     "You’re out of your mind," he hissed. "Get out of here!"
     But instead of heeding his demand, she ran towards him, her arms outstretched, her fingers 
crooked into claws. Julian was so stunned by her assault - that she was able to reach him - her long 
nails ripped at his face before he reacted. Amy never perceived what happened. The powerful blow 
landed on her neck less than one second after her nails tore Julian’s cheek. There was a sickening 
sound of crushing bones. She was dead before her body hit the floor. Julian stared at the lifeless 
body sprawling at his feet, uncomprehending. Slowly, the realization of what he had done dawned 
on him. The shock made him sway, and he backed away from the corpse. A white flash of lightning 
illuminated the scene with horrible clarity. A loud clap of thunder followed immediately. In the 
disclosing light, Julian saw that her right hand was covered with blood, her neck was twisted in an 
impossible angle, and the wide-open eyes stared sightlessly at him. In spite of knowing that she was 
dead, he crouched over her and let his fingers search for her pulse. Of course, there was none. His 
hand moved up her neck. All the vertebrae in her neck were crushed into popcorn, the base of her 
skull was pushed into her brain. He backed away.
     "Stupid bitch!" he snarled.
     What now? Julian tried to think straight but failed. The thunderstorm seemed to rage just 
above the mansion, the lightning and thunder succeeding each other continuously. Julian’s 
headache threatened his sanity, it had become worse than ever before. For a split second he thought 
of shoving the dead woman into the fireplace, but realized that it wouldn’t do. He made an effort to 
concentrate.
     Think! he commanded himself. How did she get here? Her own car? A cab? Had anybody 
seen her? Had she told anybody? Had anybody seen them together in the Haven? Lillie, of course! 
But Lillie wasn’t a threat. Cameron?
     Julian sank helplessly into the big, comfortable leather chair.
     "Stupid bitch," he said again aloud. He was grateful that Caitlin was on the other side of the 
globe. On the other hand, he wouldn’t have touched that woman had Caitlin been in San Francisco.
     "Oh, Caitlin!" he shuddered.
     The damn woman had been Caitlin’s colleague. He looked at the dead body again. She had 
scratched his face. The blood under her nails was his. Could it be cleaned away well enough? Or 
would the police find something, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of the evidence?
     I need help, he thought. Daedalus!
     His mental shout was answered. Julian didn’t hear him enter, but suddenly Daedalus was 
there, standing by the fire, looking at the dead woman, then at Julian. Julian lowered his eyes. How 
could he tell his closest friend that he had killed a human because she had disgusted him, had made 
idiotic threats and had scratched his face. 
     "What happened?" Daedalus asked at last. 
     But Julian didn’t address the question.
     "She must disappear," he said to the Nosferatu Primogen.
     Daedalus didn’t repeat his question. He understood that the woman had died for the wrong 
reason. He didn’t want to know why. He came nearer Julian and examined his injured face. The 
wounds were already closing: there would be no trace left of Amy’s attack within a few minutes. 
But the blood on her hand was drying and would not vanish. Daedalus had taken in everything at 
one glance.
     "I’ll take care of the body," he said finally. "Julian, how did she get here?"
     "I’ll find out," Julian answered.
     Anamaria had come in her own car. Cash identified it very quickly after Julian had given him 
the car keys he found in her bag. The car was gone from the San Francisco area within an hour. By 
the morning it had been sunk in the Pacific Ocean, two hundred miles north of the city. Daedalus 
thought of almost everything. Three of his clansmen went through Amy’s apartment, making sure 
that there was nothing there that would connect her to Julian Luna. They destroyed her computer; 
the diary they found was brought to the mansion. Julian burned it after having read it. If possible, 
reading it worsened his headache. The steaming lust and envy that rose from the hand written pages 
filled him with revulsion. She had described her encounter with Julian in the Haven in every graphic 
detail, enhancing her memory with what her feelings and her imagination conjured up. It made him 
feel sick. 
     The thunderstorm abated in the morning and so did Julian’s headache. He slept through the 
next day.
     Anamaria Weatherstone disappeared on the night of an unusually powerful thunderstorm. Her 
body was never recovered. Julian didn’t ask Daedalus what had been done with it: he didn’t want to 
know. Daedalus didn’t know that Amy had worked at the San Francisco Times, and Julian’s 
migraine had made him forget to inform the Nosferatu about it. 

     It had all started when a new Irish pub opened in the vicinity and the girls had dragged Caitlin 
along. The dark bitter beer made them somewhat disorderly. Jenny, the boldest, gave Caitlin a sly 
look.
     "Tell us," she purred, "how is he?"
     Caitlin winced.
     "Julian is fine," she pretended that she didn’t understand what Jenny was after, and all three of 
them laughed at her answer.
     "C’mon Caitlin," Amy’s blue eyes were twinkling, "we know that! We want more. Give us 
some meat. Don’t be shy; we are friends, aren’t we?"
     "Uhuh," the others chirped in.
     "He is so cool," Donna said dreamily, "so dignified... so rich!"
     "So handsome," Amy added.
     "So sexy!" Jenny came to the point. "We want all the gory details! We want blood!"
     Caitlin’s face turned violently red. She wasn’t in the habit of discussing her sex life with 
anybody, but the friendly bantering brought all her feelings into the open. She bowed her head, 
trying to hide her embarrassed expression. But Jenny was relentless.
     "We all know what happened in your office. You remember, don’t you? We could hear 
everything," she lowered her voice to an intimate whisper, making Caitlin wish that she were 
somewhere else. Amy put an arm around Caitlin’s shoulders.
     "Don’t be shy," she said again, "we just want you to be happy. Does he make you happy?"
     Caitlin nodded, and then raised her head.
     "I’ve never been so happy in my whole life," she said with emphasis. "I love him!"
     But Jenny wasn’t satisfied yet.
     "That sounds very nice, but is he good in bed? He seems so... restrained."
     Restrained, indeed! Caitlin realized with rising anger that Jenny was trying to provoke her into 
disclosing her most intimate experiences.
     "Look," she said, "Julian and I love each other. We make each other happy. We satisfy each 
other. That’s all the confession you’re going to get!" But in her mind a question arose: I’m 
satisfied, but is he? He always seems to be ready for more when I’m not.
     However her outburst made Jenny back off.
     "Okay, okay," she said, "then tell us what’s he like as a person. You know, the man behind the 
mask. Does he prefer pop music or classic, Chinese food or Italian, late night shows or highbrow 
debates. Things like that."
     "Soccer games or horse racing?" Amy added.
     "Does he have an equally good-looking brother stashed away somewhere?" Donna put in, 
giggling.
     Their barrage of questions made Caitlin aware of how pitifully little she knew about Julian. 
     "He likes ice cream and opera," she said finally, "and he doesn’t watch TV."
     Three pairs of curious eyes stared at her, urging her to continue. Caitlin shrugged helplessly.
     "He is afraid of flying." That made them laugh. At last a weakness. "He told me once that he 
is a good swimmer, and he is very strong. He speaks several languages. No brother, as far as I 
know."
     And that concludes the bulk of my knowledge about Julian Luna, she thought sadly. There 
were few other things she knew about him, things she wouldn’t share with her girlfriends.
     The next evening, in her office, Caitlin looked at the computer screen. The title read Funny 
things that I know about Julian. She deleted the word Funny and wrote Curious instead, then 
exchanged it again to Strange. She was dead serious.
     She printed out the file and, sipping her coffee, went over what she had written. The first 
paragraph started with Physiology in bold letters.
     High body temperature, it stated, sterile. Never sick. Caitlin had suffered from a few severe 
colds during recent months, but Julian seemed immune to such ailments. He had mentioned 
headaches on some occasion, but always in the past tense. 
     Never tired, the next line said. True, he was always alert. He never tired of making love to her, 
she was always the first to lose interest. A warm feeling spread through Caitlin’s body.
     No wonder Lillie was mad, she thought. Who would have guessed that the strict, somber 
businessman was the greatest lover since Casanova. Not that she had had so many to compare to. 
But her meager experience was telling enough. Once men got what they wanted, they turned away 
and started snoring, often leaving the woman halfway through. Not Julian. In fact, she had never 
seen him fall asleep before she did. 
     Where did he get all his energy from? That was the next item, food. As far as Caitlin had seen, 
he ate next to nothing. Sometimes they spent so much time together that she knew he hadn’t eaten 
anything all day. When she pointed that out, he would brush it away, saying that he wasn’t hungry. 
He certainly didn’t look anorectic. Did he get up in the middle of the night and raid the fridge? Did 
he suffer from some eating disorder?
     Lately, he had acquired a taste for sweets. He would eat cakes and ice cream, while she 
attacked a steak or a pizza. Her quite serious remark, that all that sugar would rot his teeth, made 
him fall apart with laughter.
     Of course, how could Caitlin have known that Kindred were impervious to human infections. 
She couldn’t know that a new one would replace a lost tooth, developing in its place, as in a shark. 
Nevertheless, Julian had tried to imagine a Kindred with decayed teeth, and it was that picture that 
had made him laugh so hard. As for the sugar, it was a source of pure energy from which he could 
benefit slightly; besides, it tasted rather pleasant. Some fresh fruit had the same effect. If he could 
make Caitlin believe that he was a vegetarian - eat deserts and fruit in her presence - then maybe she 
would stop commenting on his lack of interest in human food. Vegetarian, indeed, he had thought 
dryly. All the blood he had drunk over the years! It would certainly fill any blood bank. Well, he 
was what he was, nothing could change that.
     Caitlin was concentrating on her list. There was that uncanny ability to heal: small cuts and 
bruises that should take several days to heal were gone the day after. She remembered one 
particular incident. She had scratched Julian’s collarbone while they were making love. He hadn’t 
been quick enough in intercepting her hand. She had watched the droplets of blood that came forth, 
vaguely disgusted by her own desire to lick them off his skin. She had taken the edge of a sheet and 
wiped the blood away. Afterwards, when she looked at her hand, there was blood under her 
fingernails, but, when she turned to Julian, she saw to her utter surprise that there was no trace left 
of the damage her nails had inflicted. That mystery scared her so much that she didn’t dare to ask 
him about it. 
     And that crazy thing with his eyes!
     Also, he smelled of nothing. When they were near each other, she could detect the faint scent 
of his after-shave. She couldn’t identify it, but it reminded her of fields in the summer and freshly 
turned earth. Beyond that, there was nothing.
     Lastly, there was his unbelievable strength. He was very careful not to exhibit it, but sometimes 
he forgot himself. The ease with which he lifted heavy objects. He could pin her down with one 
hand; and even though that didn’t impress her, he had once pinned down a man, with no more effort 
than he used on her. Another time, he twisted off a big padlock when Caitlin refused to climb over a 
fence.
     "Julian, you’re showing off again," she had exclaimed, but he had said that the padlock was 
rusty. They both peered at the broken steel at their feet, the metal glimmering in the sun: no trace of 
rust on it. Julian had shrugged in a dismissive gesture and opened the gate for her. 
     Caitlin read through her notes again. The picture that emerged from her description was not 
entirely... human. She shied away from her conclusion.
     C’mon Caitlin, of course he belongs to another species, he is a man! She tried to joke her 
unease away. A little different from other men, but he is the man you love.
     Only, he is a little too different, a little beyond the human boundaries. His sight and hearing 
are a little too good, his strength a little too great, his other abilities a little too far out of the 
ordinary. His past a little too mysterious.
     Caitlin, get a grip on yourself, she admonished herself, or you’ll start believing that your 
lover comes from outer space!
     She shivered violently.
     His knowledge of astronomy and physics - a little outside the realm of an ordinary 
businessman. But then again, there was nothing ordinary about Julian Luna. 
     The paper crumpled in her hand. She threw it away and deleted the file. But she couldn’t stop 
thinking about it. A couple of days later, she told him about her summation of his traits and the 
conclusion it had led to. She tried to make it sound light, as if she were joking. To her surprise, 
Julian assured her quite seriously, that he was as much of Earth origin as she was.
     "I abide by the same laws of Nature that you do. But I’m different from other men." He had 
added sadly in the end, "please, Caitlin, let it rest at that."
     But Caitlin couldn’t let it rest. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that 
she was going out of her mind. She realized that although she was living in Julian’s house, she was 
not really living in his life. She tried to acquire an insight into his affairs and, to her surprise, Julian 
offered to let her tag along for a few days.
     "Take a pillow with you," he told her laughing, "you’ll be bored to death."
     He was proven right. The unending business meetings, the bickering about interest rates, 
negotiations with union leaders, trade routes, taxes, stock-markets and the like, made her lose 
interest in no time. She endured it for two days. In fact, the only exciting thing that happened during 
her visit into Julian’s business world was provided by Caitlin herself. After returning from a lunch 
break on the second day, she found him alone in an executive office in the bank. Piles of papers 
were spread on the big mahogany table. Julian was sitting at one end, leafing through one of the 
formidable bundles. He was totally absorbed in his reading and didn’t look up when she entered. A 
wicked idea formed in Caitlin’s head and she crouched down. Moving quietly on her hands and 
knees beneath the table, she reached him unnoticed, and was gratified by his surprised flinch when 
her hand touched him. Using his weight, he made the heavy chair slide back, allowing her more 
space. 
     "Caitlin, please!" he protested, but did nothing to stop her. She pressed herself between his 
knees, her hands and mouth busy. For a long moment there was only the sound of his uneven 
breathing, then she heard the door open and voices of entering people. She had not thought of 
locking the door! Julian’s hand was on her head instantly, preventing her from moving, and she 
heard him address his associates.
      "Will you please wait outside." His voice betrayed him and he had to clear his throat. 
     There was a short silence, followed by shuffling feet and the door closed again. Julian took 
hold of her face, making her look up at him.
     "You left the door open on purpose, didn’t you?" The accusation was mollified by his laugh.
     "I did not!" Caitlin was offended, but her hand returned to him. This time however, he stopped 
her.
     "Caitlin, I’m trying to work," he said. "You are... distracting..."
     "Well," Caitlin purred, "you distracted me when I was working."
     "Oh, so you want revenge," he was laughing again. Before she could respond, he lifted her on 
the table, pressing her down on the paperwork. 
     "Julian," she whispered, "the door is still unlocked."
     "If anyone enters," he muttered, "it will be the last thing he does in this bank." 
     He followed her out and Caitlin was hard pressed not to giggle when she saw how everybody 
tried not to look at them. She was already in the car when she remembered that her torn panties had 
been left among the crumpled papers on the table in Julian’s office. She laughed helplessly all the 
way home. 
     "I lost something in your office," she greeted him innocently when he returned that evening.
     His hand dug into his pocket and came up with the silky item in question. 
     "I had to remove your underwear from the bulletin board in the staff coffee room," he said 
darkly. But Caitlin dissolved in a paroxysm of laughter again, and eventually Julian was infected 
and started laughing too.
     "Revenge is sweet," she managed to sputter at last, and they laughed till it hurt.
     Caitlin never followed him to work again, but Julian noticed that he was treated differently at 
the bank since her scandalous visit. He was greeted with smiles; there was more help and 
compliance than ever before, almost... warmth.
     Well, he thought with incredulity, they see me as human! It suited him fine, among humans. 
Of course, Caitlin never attended his meetings with the Kindred. The conclaves were held in the 
dead of night, in Daedalus’ gatehouse. Except for those who worked directly for Julian, or lived 
there, few Kindred entered the main house nowadays. 
     Caitlin deleted Julian’s affairs from her mental list. There was nothing out of the ordinary 
there.
     If one doesn’t count a pair of maltreated knickers littering among dreary bank papers as out 
of the ordinary, she thought wryly. 
     So what else was there?
     Caitlin knew that Julian seldom spent a whole night with her. He would be with her in the 
evening, following her to bed as a matter of course, but he’d be gone in the morning. Whenever she 
woke up in the middle of the night, he’d be gone too. It struck her that he probably left her as soon 
as she fell asleep. Or she’d go to sleep alone and would find him at her side when she woke up in 
the morning. She never noticed when he came into her bedroom. Somehow, he always managed to 
sneak into her bed without ever waking her. His nightly absences scared her. 
     What are you up to in the middle of the night, Julian? she wondered, but didn’t dare to ask, 
not really seeing that she didn’t want to find out. Finally, she decided on the simplest answer. 
Taking into consideration his strange eating habits, she came to the conclusion that he really ate in 
the middle of the night. She was dead right of course, only she wasn’t aware of what it was he 
consumed.
     She was appalled by her own desire to hurt him. That was how she perceived her urge to bite 
him when they made love. She knew that it pleased him, but not how much. The carnage she had 
caused in her parents’ house was mercifully forgotten. She had never been interested in kinky sex, 
but suspected now that there was a masochistic streak in Julian, which evoked her reaction. It scared 
her. Every now and then, Caitlin had a feeling that she glimpsed a darker side of her lover’s 
personality. There was something sinister lurking just beyond her grasp. In the best moments, he 
could make her forget the whole world, but more and more often she was just frightened. When the 
opportunity to go to Europe presented itself, she jumped at it immediately. And now, a month later, 
she was in Paris, driving herself mad with longing for Julian. 
     She had spotted the young couple that Julian had sent along as guards within a week. In San 
Francisco the two Gangrels were inconspicuous, but in Europe they were pathetically visible. Caitlin 
was both annoyed and touched. She knew that they were there for her protection, and she was no 
longer as self-confident as she had been before she had been raped. In her initial annoyance, just to 
spite them, she had picked up a man in the hotel bar one night. He looked vaguely like Julian, but 
when he tried to kiss her, she got the jitters, and was quite grateful when her guards turned up in her 
room. The man had become threatening when she had asked him to leave without delivering. The 
two Gangrels were very glad when she accepted their company, and the young woman, Alice, 
followed Caitlin happily on every shopping round. Three weeks and four cities later, they were 
sharing a row of seats on the plane back to the States. Both of her guards were miserably afraid of 
flying, just as Julian had been, and Caitlin felt that it was now her turn to protect them. She had not 
notified Julian about her homecoming, which was just as well because the plane was detoured due 
to bad weather, and they had to wait almost five hours in Chicago. It was ten o’clock in the evening 
when they finally landed in San Francisco, but as far as Caitlin was concerned, it was early morning, 
and she hadn’t slept all night. 
     She was disappointed that Julian wasn’t at home when she arrived at the mansion, but decided 
that it was for the best. She was just too tired for any reunions. She took a quick shower and was 
asleep before her head touched the pillow.
 

      He had hurt her by sheer attrition. 
     They had been apart for almost two months. Instead of sneaking quietly into her bed, as he 
had always done in the past, without waking her, Julian had grabbed her, his fingers digging 
painfully into her flesh, and kissed her until she responded instinctively, still half asleep. His initial 
urgency was endearing, albeit unpleasant. He had parted her thighs brutally, forcing the penetration, 
scaring and hurting her at first. But it was over within moments, his whole body shuddering 
uncontrollably, his voice growling her name over and over. They spent the rest of the night making 
love. Caitlin couldn’t match his strength, but she was amazed by the power she had over him. The 
sound he made when she took him in her mouth, as if she were inflicting pain instead of pleasure. 
He took hold of her face with unsteady hands, arresting her movements, while he begged her to 
continue.
     "Don’t stop, Caitlin... don’t stop..." His voice breaking.
     But she stopped, shaking her head free from his grasp, and laughed softly.
     "Which way do you want it?" she asked, looking up at him.
     "I don’t want it to end too soon." He was laughing too. But Caitlin enjoyed being in 
command.
     "That’s for me to decide," she said with mocking sternness. "Keep your hands off me!"
     Julian abandoned any attempts to steer her, concentrating on prolonging the experience when 
she returned to her task. But he capitulated loudly within minutes. Still, Caitlin accused him of 
holding back, and threatened to do the same. He took her up on that challenge. Only, she was 
unable to live up to her threats. He could immobilize her with little effort, making sure that she was 
entirely at his mercy, watching her give in, no matter how much she tried to resist the overwhelming 
waves of pleasure. He’d laugh triumphantly, holding her quivering sex in his hand. 
     "It’s not fair," she complained, "I can’t hold you down." 
     But she knew that she could render him just as helpless as he could make her. When her teeth 
raked the soft skin over the hardness beneath, he would quiver just as she had, and it was her turn to 
laugh in triumph. She loved being on top, when she could at least pretend that she was in charge. 
Sometimes she really was and she delighted in watching him abandon his control, give in and enjoy 
the pleasure she was giving him. 
     To her surprise, he was always ready to start again within minutes, no matter how many times 
he had made love to her before, or how intensely. She was always the one to say when it was 
enough. Usually, she would be too tired or too hurt to continue after a few hours. She’d be quite 
satisfied and sleepy, apart from being sore in all the important places. He always ceased when she 
asked him to, never showing any disappointment at her loss of interest. She had asked him about it 
once, but he had laughed her concern away. 
     "I’m just too stupid to know when to stop," he had joked. "I’d probably go on till I dropped 
dead, because I want you so much. It’s fortunate that one of us is sensible enough to know better."
     The truth was that Julian’s endurance surpassed Caitlin’s by far, but he was not inexhaustible. 
However, with her, he never even got close to getting tired. Except that one time... he chased away 
the memory. After all, he had been able to match the stamina of the sexy Toreador, Lillie. 
     Caitlin was exhausted, but her aching body prevented her from falling asleep. Julian bowed 
over her, his hand touching her face.
     "Caitlin," he said, "let me ease your discomfort."
     She looked at him uncomprehending.
     "What can you do?"
     "Trust me." He took her in his arms, despite her whimpering protest. "I can."
     His lips touched hers, but there was nothing sexual about the kiss. His tongue moved slowly over 
her mouth and, to her surprise, the soreness disappeared. He licked a bruise on her shoulder, 
creating the same effect.
     "How did you do that?" There was incredulity in her voice.
     "Shhh ..." he whispered as he uncovered her breasts. First one nipple, then the other, the 
smarting pain subsided slowly under the wet touch. He searched for other damage, omitting 
strained muscles, concentrating on skin-deep injuries. The big bruises on her thighs would not 
disappear entirely, but the pain diminished considerably. He parted her legs, ignoring her feeble 
protests.
     "Hurts!" she complained when his tongue found her sorest part. He was very still for a long 
moment, letting his saliva soothe away the pain. He stopped when he felt her body relax, then sat up, 
smiling at her unbelieving expression.
     "I can’t do anything about the pain inside..." He touched the lowest part of her belly gingerly. 
"I can’t reach it."
     She smiled back.
     "It’s not half as bad as the one you’ve taken away. How did you do it? Are you a healer of 
some sort? Tell me!" She had trouble believing.
     "I just can." Julian shrugged and looked away. Caitlin sat up abruptly, throwing her arms 
around him.
     "It’s a gift!" she exclaimed. "Think of all the people you could help!"
     To her dismay, he started laughing.
     "Caitlin, I can’t go around licking people, can I?"
     She couldn’t help laughing too.
     "No, I suppose you can’t." She was suddenly serious. "Is this why you heal so well when 
you’re hurt?"
     "Yes." He anticipated her next question. "Don’t ask me how or why, because I don’t know."
 
      He wasn’t lying. He didn’t know why the Kindred had this ability. He was surprised that 
Caitlin accepted it so easily. There were so many people who claimed that they had many different 
gifts and abilities. His was at least real. He wasn’t endangering the Masquerade, and he hated to see 
Caitlin in pain because he had made love to her too intensely or for too long. What little pain or 
injury she had ever inflicted on him, healed within minutes. Except that one time... he chased away 
the memory again.
     She was asleep again, her body relaxed in his arms. He wouldn’t leave her this night, not even 
to feed. He had come back to the mansion late, after a long dreary evening at the negotiation table. 
He had been tired and still fuming over the stupidity of some of the people he had to deal with. No 
one had been around to inform him, and he didn’t realize that Caitlin was back until he opened the 
present she had left for him in the library. He had removed the fine paper it was wrapped in, finding 
a small card inside. 
     For Julian, I love you, Caitlin, it said.
     The small leather case contained a pair of cufflinks, made of crystal, the work so beautiful that 
it was breathtaking. He admired them for a long moment, watching the tiny prisms reflect the light 
cast by the fire, when the implication struck him. He had run to her bedroom, his heart beating so 
hard he was sure the sound would wake everybody in the mansion. He had looked at the sleeping 
woman for a few seconds, then, all reason gone, he had climbed into her bed, his clothes left in a 
heap behind him.
     Now, his arms hardened around her and she moved restlessly. He relaxed his grip, not 
wanting to wake her, she had been so tired.
     "Don’t you ever leave me again!" he said vehemently. "Ever!"
     She responded to his voice, making a small cat-like sound, and moved closer, her body soft 
and warm against his. He wanted her again, the desire like a painful disease, but he decided to let 
her sleep and wait for her to wake up. With his Kindred patience, he could wait forever.

     Both Lillie and Sonny asked Julian’s permission to Embrace Frank Kohanek. They had 
stayed on after a conclave, which wasn’t over until dawn. Julian had expected something out of the 
ordinary to happen, Sonny’s presence was unexpected. Not being a Primogen, Sonny was not 
expected to attend such meetings; but when he turned up in the middle of the night, informing the 
Prince that he had something to discuss with him in private, Julian had frowned apprehensively.
     Trouble? he wondered.
     He looked from Lillie to Sonny, pondering over their request. If he allowed Sonny to do it, 
Frank would become a Ventrue. Would that calm the policeman down? To be a Ventrue meant to be 
reasonable and pragmatic. A rational mind was a Ventrue characteristic.
      How rational have you been lately? his reason asked himself. He shook his head. Julian had 
never been very good at deceiving himself, sooner or later the truth would stare him right in the face, 
no matter how unpleasant or unwanted. 
     Still, the question had been posed, Ventrue or Toreador. He regarded Lillie’s beautiful face. 
The volatile Frank - a Toreador? As if there weren’t trouble enough? If Frank became Kindred, he 
would be a serious contender in the future: for power, and for Lillie, Julian’s wicked reason added.
     "Has he asked to be Embraced?" he posed the inevitable question at last, dreading the answer. 
     To his relief, they both shook their heads in negation.
     "Then there is nothing to discuss," he said with satisfaction.
     "I have a reason to believe that he wants it," Lillie argued. "I wanted your permission first, 
before I asked him."
     "He knows about us," Sonny added. "He practically lives among us." 
     "No," Julian responded. Seeing their disappointed expressions, he added something that 
surprised him as much as it flabbergasted his companions: "He is mine." 
     Sonny flinched visibly and Lillie’s eyes widened. Her gaze concentrated on Julian and 
Sonny’s presence was forgotten. Julian stared back at her and Lillie’s challenge was defeated. She 
averted her eyes.
     "Frank is mine," Julian repeated in a low voice that made Sonny shudder. 
     That’s not the way a man talks of another man, Sonny thought with disbelief. You thought 
you were in trouble, Frank. You ain’t seen nothing yet!
     But Julian had heard the erotic tone in his own voice, and was shocked and embarrassed 
himself. He rose swiftly to his feet intending to leave. Lillie started to laugh, a low, lascivious, 
throaty laugh that made Julian even more embarrassed and, to his dismay, he felt his face turn hot. 
He turned away and fled.
     No! he thought vehemently. As long as I have something to say about it, Frank will continue 
his existence as a human. 
     But to Embrace Frank Kohanek was more tempting than he wanted to admit to himself.

     Caitlin was greeted with cheers and whoops on her return to work. 
     "We thought you’d eloped," Jenny laughed. "However, the publisher is still in town, so we 
figured you’d be back sooner or later."
     On her way to her office, Caitlin noticed that Amy’s workplace had been emptied, the forsaken 
computer sitting in regal loneliness on the deserted desk.
     "Where is Amy?" she asked, and was drowned in excited babble. As it turned out, Amy had 
been gone for nearly a week. After a couple of days people started to worry. Anamaria 
Weatherstone wasn’t the most reliable person in the world, but whenever she didn’t come to work, 
she called at least, sometimes the next day. But when nothing had been heard after four days, her 
father had contacted the police. The Weatherstone millions had put the police department on edge: 
there was an ongoing investigation, they had picked Amy’s desk clean just the previous day. Caitlin 
didn’t have time to worry at first, but the next day, when she had got rid of the most pressing 
matters, she stopped on her way out at Amy’s desk. Reluctantly, she turned on the computer. 
     Enter password, it blinked at her invitingly. What could Amy have used as a password? She 
tried several times but was denied access. She sat twiddling with the keyboard, thinking about her 
missing colleague. Amy was different from other girls in the office. Not as outspoken and bold as 
Jenny, but there had been something... hungry about her, something... almost repulsive. Although 
Amy had worked at the Times for more than two years, she wasn’t really close to anyone, and 
rumors circulated about her many short-lived affairs with the male members of the staff. Not nice 
rumors. Predatory, sly, daddy’s little rich girl. Caitlin knew about the Weatherstone fortune. 
     Just ugly rumors, she shrugged. The others are envious of her wealth. But Caitlin had to 
admit that she didn’t like Amy either. She pressed a few of the keys and, all of a sudden, she was 
allowed access to Amy’s files. 
     "What! How!" Caitlin exclaimed. She sat for a moment, trying to understand. 
     What was it I wrote? she wondered. It felt like a cold shower, when she realized that she had 
used her own password, ‘Julian’.
     Caitlin looked at the screen reluctantly: she didn’t want to go through what Amy had written. 
There weren’t too many files, but one of them screamed at her with its name. It was "Julian" again. 
Her hands shook when she opened the beckoning file. She started to read it on the screen when she 
realized that it was too long, more than thirty pages. She pushed the print button and, while the 
printer was working, she went through other files. Those were connected with work. She 
deliberately waited for the printer to finish before picking up all the pages, turned off Amy’s 
computer and went back into her office. She sat down, but got up quickly again to fetch coffee. She 
knew that she was fending off the moment when she would have to read Amy’s writings. The few 
lines she had already read had left a queasy feeling in her stomach. Caitlin sat down and lifted the 
papers resolutely. Sipping her coffee, she started to read from the beginning.
     Today, our new owner has graced us with his presence for the first time. The elusive Julian 
Luna is suddenly my boss. Wow! Now I can see what Annie van Hoff and that slut, Selene, were 
talking about in such a breathless manner. It’s not just his looks. And he’s, well, dreamy. It’s 
everything: the way he moves, the way he talks. He seems to be totally in control. When he looked 
at me, just for a short moment, it felt like he could see inside my dirty little soul. It was scary, and 
very, very, unbelievably wow! Yummy, with some butter on! Oh, hell! Hold the butter!
     So far, Caitlin wasn’t surprised. She had seen women react to Julian before. They would 
always look at him twice, and he had this uncanny ability to make them stop talking just by looking 
at them. But then Amy proceeded to describe the gossip that circulated among the jet setters. An 
image of a ruthless, power-hungry and rather evil person was created.
     This isn’t Julian, Caitlin thought. 
     But she continued reading, her feeling of uneasiness becoming stronger. Amy went on 
describing what she had heard from her female friends. Apparently, Julian had a bad reputation 
among the women as well. But it was of a different kind. Short-lived affairs, one-night stands had 
obviously been standard, leaving the ladies all heated up and quite mad at him - the resident Don 
Juan. 
     This isn’t Julian, Caitlin thought again. However, she could believe the part about the women 
wanting him back. 
     Slowly, Amy’s feelings started to color the contents of her diary. Obviously, she had fallen in 
love with Julian Luna. There were also some derogatory remarks about Caitlin. She came upon the 
evening when Julian had made love to Caitlin in her office. She remembered it very well. But the 
way Amy described what she had heard, and what her imagination added, made Caitlin cheeks burn.
     It had become an obsession. Utterly surprised, Caitlin read how Amy managed to get her out of 
the country with the help of her father, sending her on that long trip to Europe. Amy following 
Julian. Then came the part about what had happened in the Haven. It was nauseatingly detailed: 
Amy’s outrage at being discarded, her disclosure of what the encounter had meant to her, and her 
desire for more. It made Caitlin feel sick and she started to cry.
     "It isn’t true," she whimpered. "It isn’t true."
     She took a deep breath, and read through the graphic description of the copulation again. 
Could it be just a fantasy? 
     "Oh, God!" she sobbed. She recognized it so well. Julian’s adept hands. 
     The last entry was only a week old. 
     I’ll not let him get away with it, it said. And now, Amy was missing. The police were looking 
for her. 
     Caitlin sat in her office until it was almost midnight, not knowing what do, not daring to 
confront Julian with what she had found.
     The trilling noise of the phone ringing made her almost jump out of her skin. She picked up 
the receiver and said her name before realizing that there was only one person who would call her at 
her office that late.
     "Caitlin," Julian’s warm voice made her wince, "isn’t it past your bedtime? Or have you gone 
over to European time for good?" He laughed softly. "Please, come home."
     Caitlin made a strangled sound. 
     "Caitlin, what’s wrong?!" The laughter was gone, replaced by anxiety.
     Caitlin looked at the papers on her desk. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat.
     "Julian," she said as calmly as she could manage, "can you please come here?"
     "What’s happened?" He sounded really worried now.
     "Just come," Caitlin said and put down the receiver. 
 
 
     Julian came into her office forty-five minutes later. Caitlin was sure that those were the longest 
forty-five minutes of her life. He frowned when he saw her sitting idly behind her desk. Her pale, 
tear-streaked face told him that something was terribly wrong. But when he tried to take her in his 
arms she stopped him, her hands pushing at his chest, her face turning away. 
     "What’s the matter, Caitlin?" he asked letting her go.
     She handed him Amy’s diary without a word. He started to read the first page, but looked at 
her after only a few seconds.
     "What is it?" His voice was expressionless, as was his face. 
     "You tell me." Caitlin looked at him intently, but there was nothing to see. "Go on, read it!" 
she added.
     All Julian wanted to do was to take the offensive papers and burn them. But he had to read it 
all over again. He recognized Amy’s diary after reading the first sentences. Where did it come 
from? He had burned the original only a week ago. And now it was back, haunting him. How did it 
find its way into Caitlin’s hands? He sat down, pretending to read, turning each page after an 
appropriate amount of time. He knew it by heart anyway. He managed to bring an expression of 
incredulity and disgust onto his face. When he came to the incident in the Haven, he didn’t have to 
pretend. He was painfully aware of Caitlin’s accusing stare. He put the diary down at last.
     "Who wrote this... this abomination?" His voice was filled with revulsion.
     Caitlin continued to stare at him in disbelief. 
     "Are you trying to tell me that this is a fake," she demanded, "that you don’t know her? For 
God’s sake! Julian, she works here, or used to work here. Anamaria Weatherstone, she is missing!"
     "Oh," Julian shrugged dispassionately, "the fat girl. The police asked about her, apparently 
she’s gone missing. How come it’s in your hands," he pointed at the papers, "and not in the 
possession of the police?"
     "I found it in her computer." It was Caitlin’s turn to shrug. "Apparently, they couldn’t access 
her files."
     "But you could?" Julian allowed a smile to show.
     "She used the same password as I do," Caitlin said.
     He raised one eyebrow inquiringly.
     "Julian."
     "Yes?"
     "That was the password," Caitlin explained. "Your name." 
     "Oh," he said again. His hand moved over his face. Suddenly, he looked more tired than she 
had ever seen him before. "Let’s go home Caitlin," he said at last, "I’m exhausted."
     Caitlin looked at the discarded pages of Amy’s diary.
     "Julian," she asked, "are you saying that this is nothing but a raving imagination of an 
infatuated, oversexed, unsatisfied young woman?"
     He shrugged again helplessly.
     "Caitlin," he made a grimace, "I had nothing to do with her, nothing at all. She was hardly my 
type, would you say?" He glanced at her apprehensively. "You know, this has happened to me 
before, more than once." 
     "What?" Caitlin asked, not comprehending.
     "This..." he was frowning, searching for the right words, "persecution; women pursuing their 
own fantasies. It’s one of the reasons for my... reclusive lifestyle.”
     Caitlin wanted to believe him. Although there was a small voice in her head that was saying 
But how could Amy know? Her heart said he is telling the truth, believe him! She looked at his 
dispirited expression, then stood up and went to him. He slid to his knees when she touched his 
face, his arms locking around her, his face resting against her body. 
     "What shall I do with Amy’s diary?" Caitlin asked after a long moment.
     "I don’t know," he answered. "If you give it to the police, it will mean trouble; if you destroy 
it, we’ll be left in peace." 
     Caitlin hesitated for just one second before she disengaged herself from Julian’s embrace. 
She took the diary and fed it into the shredder, then activated Amy’s computer, deleted the file 
named Julian, made sure that no trace of it was left and changed the password to the first expression 
that came into her mind, vile.
     They went home. 
     Julian realized that making love to Caitlin that night had been a grave mistake. She had sought 
his closeness and reassurance, wanting to be held and told that she was loved. The ageless male 
arrogance interpreted her reaction as desire, responding accordingly. She had accepted the intimacy, 
but her body had resisted him as never before. If Julian had been a normal human, he would have 
given up, demanding explanations and sulking. But Julian Luna was not a normal human man. He 
had broken through her defense, making her give in to his deft caresses, understanding only too late 
that it was this very feat that had held her back. When her body at last reacted the way he wanted it 
to - shaking helplessly in the forced orgasm - the steamy words from Amy’s diary flashed in his 
mind and he knew with dreadful certainty that Caitlin had recognized him in the explicit description. 
     She lay motionless afterwards, her back turned to him, more distant now than she had been 
during her stay in Europe. He wanted to tell her the truth, to beg her to forgive him, knowing that 
she would if he hadn’t killed that damn woman. He was well aware that the murder, accidental as it 
was, lay beyond Caitlin’s ability to condone. Caitlin was trying to pretend that she was asleep, 
making a poor job of it, but she wanted him gone, and after some time he slipped out of her bed.
     Much later, after Julian had left her bed as she pretended to be asleep, she thought of his 
hands on her body, his relentless touch that had made her shudder with pleasure, and that had been 
described so well by Amy. 
     Caitlin cried during most of what was left of the night. 
 

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