It was 5 a.m. I'd just gotten home from work, and decided I'd take a
walk before going to bed. I used to walk my 3 mile route everyday,
but I'd let myself slack off over the past few months. I really
wanted to get back in the habit. It was a good way to unwind and
maybe sort things out in my head on occasion. Of course, sometimes I
just liked to enjoy the night. (I always tried to take my walk after
dark, even before meeting Asher. In Florida, it was just too hot
during the day for it most of the time.)  


This particular morning, I just had the fidgets and wanted something
to do. I'd talked with Asher the night before and knew that he was
busy tonight and wouldn't be paying me a visit or need me for
anything. So I didn't need to check my e-mail right away. I could
enjoy my walk. Maybe some of the neighborhood cats would come out and
pay me a visit as I passed by.  There were two in particular, near a
lake I'd stop at occasionally, that seemed to consider me theirs.
(Cats are like vampires in that respect. They seem convinced that
everyone exists for *their* convenience.) At least I didn't have to
feed 'em. Just give 'em attention if they were about.


I changed out of my work clothes and into a tank top, shorts, and my
hikers. Even for Florida, we were having an unusually warm spell for
mid-December. In fact it was downright *hot*. I pulled my hair back
into a ponytail, grabbed my headset radio and keys, and locked my
door on the way out.  Then I unlocked the door, went in, and grabbed
my cell phone, and re-locked the door on my way back out. (Seems I'm
*always* forgetting *something*.)  It was a clear night/morning, and
Orion rode high in the sky. I smiled up at my old friend and put my
headset on, tuned to my favorite country station. Then I set off for
my walk.


I was singing along with a Christmas song and enjoying the light
displays that had been left on all night, when I sensed that I was
being watched. I had reached the halfway point of my route. One of
the few areas where the houses were far apart. To my right was a
large field with a few shadowy clumps of trees at this end of it. I
was always cautious in this section, but I'd never felt quite this
creeped out.  I stopped and took the radio off my ears, listening for
any unusual sounds. At the same time I scanned the shadows under the
trees.  


A man-shaped shadow detached itself from the deeper shadows.
Something in me said "vampire."  "Asher?" I asked. But no, this one
was broader in the shoulders and a little bit taller. Was this a
messenger from him? I had yet to meet any of the local vamps.
In a blur, the shadowy vampire vanished from under the trees to
reappear directly in front of me. I had an impression of mahogany
eyes and coppery brown hair... a hand flashing towards my head. Then
everything went black.
~~~~~~~~~
I woke to darkness. I was having trouble getting my bearings. I
seemed to be in a small, enclosed space; there was a distinct
sensation of being boxed in. Thankfully, I'm not claustrophobic.
Feeling around revealed two things to me. Satiny cloth on the sides
of my enclosure told me that I was most likely inside a coffin. And,
I was *not* alone. Not good.  The question was *who* was in here with
me?  Maybe if I could get the lid open. A quick check of my watch's
night light feature let me know that it was just after sunset. So, I
didn't have to worry about barbecuing my "host" if they turned out to
be one of the good guys -- something I somehow doubted. This just
didn't feel like Asher's style.


I'd gotten the lid up and was about to lift myself out, when the
mystery vamp woke up.  Whoever had put me in here with him had placed
me with my back to him, nestled against his chest. His right arm
tightened around my waist, pinning my arms, in a grip just this side
of painful.  "Guten abend, Fraulein," the deep slightly harsh voice
intoned.  "Leaving so soon?"  "Since I wasn't fast enough, I'd have
to say no," I quipped. "I don't suppose I could persuade you to let
me go?"  "But, Fraulein, I have just shared my bed with you," he said
in a mocking tone. "Surely you wouldn't deny me the pleasure of
getting even better acquainted."


I started to struggle. I still didn't have good control over calling
on the extra strength my bond with Asher gave me, though. I couldn't
break the strange vamp's grip without opening the marks. I wasn't
sure involving Asher at that moment was wise. I knew he was in an
important negotiation, and opening the marks would be a distraction
to him. Not a good idea, considering the nature of some of the things
he applied the term "negotiation" to.  "Look, I don't know who you
are or why I've been brought here," I growled. "But I'm not
particularly *interested* in getting better acquainted with you. Now
let me go! -- Oh, and it's *Frau* not Fraulein."


He gave a short bark of laughter, still grasping me to him in his
coffin. He was *really* starting to irritate me.  "Then allow me to
introduce myself. I am Gunthor," he pronounced it *Goon-tore*. "But
you puzzle me, woman. You only bear *three* marks. It is not as if
*that's* permanently binding. Why would you insist on *Frau*?"  Not
permanently binding? I wondered what he meant by that. Was he
thinking of superimposing *his* marks over Asher's? I could sense he
was a master, but either very young or very weak. His power just
didn't have that *resonance* to it. I didn't think he'd be strong
enough to actually do it, but I didn't really want to give him the
opportunity to try, either.


He tightened his grip briefly, eliciting an involuntary gasp of pain
from me. "Answer me, woman!" he demanded.  "I wasn't referring to my
master," I wheezed. "I meant my *husband* of the past 11 years! Ease
up! Dammit! You're making it hard to breathe!"  He loosened up his
hold, but not enough for me to escape it. He grabbed my left wrist,
bringing it up to his face. "A ring! You really *are* married," he
sounded surprised.  "Well of *course* I am, GOONtore," I replied
acidly. "Why would I lie about something like that?"  Gunthor gave an
irritated growl. Oh gee, was I getting on his nerves?  Good. 'Cause
he was definitely getting on *mine*.


He twisted my hand around painfully, making me wince. The position he
had my arm in was already uncomfortable.  "Enough of this. You will
call your master here to me, woman," he commanded. "I will have done
with this tonight. I had thought to steal you from him, but you
irritate me too much. Now *call* him." He gave another little twist
to my wrist.  "Ow! Fuck *you*!" Damned if I was going to cooperate
with this brute.  "If I thought that would make you open the marks,"
he chortled cruelly.  Shit! He probably *would*, too.


"But that would take too long, I think. I've a feeling it might take
*days* to break you that way. As much fun as it would be, I don't
have that kind of time," he mused. I held back on the sigh of relief.
I had a feeling something else unpleasant was coming up.  Turns out I
was right.  "No, I think I'll just drain you," he decided. "You'll
either break and call him, or you'll die. That will either cripple
him or kill him and save me the trouble."  "Hey! Wait a minute! I
thought human servants were sacrosanct according to Council law!"


"Who's going to tell them?" Gunthor didn't seem too worried. I
screamed when he bit into my wrist, savaging it. He was serious about
draining me and made sure the blood flow would be swift. I writhed,
pitched, and kicked against him as best I could, panic nibbling at
the edges of my mind.  He tightened his grip once again and wrapped
one leg over mine, effectively immobilizing me. God, but it hurt as
he sucked greedily on the wound.  My whole body started tingling
after a while. My vision went snowy and colors faded to shades of
gray. If I passed out, I was dead. I had not choice. I opened the
marks, mentally screaming out, *help me*!


"Good!" Gunthor sounded triumphant as he pulled away from my
wrist. "I *knew* you would call my enemy to me. But, oh, you are so
deliciously *sweet*! I think I'll finish you off before our duel."
"No!" I screamed as he fastened onto the wound again. I was fighting
to stay conscious. The marks were still open. I didn't have the
strength left to block them off again, to spare Asher my agony.  Then
I felt Asher answer me along the link. He was already nearby and
closing the remaining distance rapidly. But I knew he wouldn't arrive
in time. My eyes had fluttered shut, impotent tears running from
them. I couldn't even open them.


*Join with me, cherie*, Asher called through the marks. I felt a
sudden jolt of raw energy tear through me and into Gunthor. We both
screamed simultaneously, and he flung me out of the coffin.  I landed
bonelessly in deep shag carpet. Hey, at least it wasn't stone or
concrete as I'd half expected. All I could do was lay there. I didn't
even have enough strength to sob. But I didn't lose consciousness, at
least.  I heard a door shatter and felt Asher's presence boil into
the room.  "Gunthor! I should have *known* you wouldn't give up so
easily," Asher's voice was pure acid. Remind me never to piss him off.
"Of course not, Asher!" Gunthor snarled back. "I will *not* give up
such a rich hunting ground as Central Florida. The very transience of
the population makes it ideal."


"Precisely why *you* are not fit to be master here,' Asher
hissed. "You would allow indiscriminate hunting, which would draw the
worst kind of attention to vampires. We have worked too hard for our
current position in this culture to allow that."  While they were
arguing, I felt two pairs of hands turn me onto my back.  They made a
quick examination of me and proceeded to bind up my wrist. Then
I was gently lifted and set back down propped against a
wall.  "Tamara, can you hear me?" a female voice asked. I couldn't
hear Asher or Gunthor anymore, but I felt roiling surges of power
from both of them. I managed to open my eyes a little. I found myself
looking into the face of Vivian. I remembered that she and Stephen
had come down here a few days ago on "vacation."  "Y-y-yes," I
stammered weakly. I felt myself start to shiver, whether from blood
loss or the incredible amount of power unleashed so close, I couldn't
tell.  Stephen spoke up. "We need to get her out of this room," he
told Vivian. "This much wild power can't be good for her in her
condition." The werewolf seemed as agitated as I felt. Vivian nodded
in agreement, and Stephen picked me up and carried me into a stone
hallway. A few doors down, he took me into another room.  This room
had stone walls like the hallway. But, apparently, the whole
place was carpeted. 


I was still shivering as Stephen put me down. The carpet and even the
stones felt warm, but I was freezing.  "The marks must be helping
you," Vivian told me, as she rubbed my arms to aid circulation. "Your
wrist had almost stopped bleeding by the time we got to you."  "Y-you
s-sure I haven't j-just lost t-too much b-b-blood?" I asked as the
shaking got worse.  "That may have been part of it," she
answered. "But I saw the wound begin to seal itself even as I was
binding it up." A look of worry crossed her face. "Your color is
improving, but your body temperature is way too low, even for a
human. Stephen...."  "Say no more, sweety," he smiled and moved away
from us a few feet.  I was still too numb to really register shock as
he quickly stripped out of his clothes. I stared in fascination as
his body contorted and shifted, fur flowing like a fast forward film
of a plant blooming. 


Once he was in full wolf form, he trotted back over to us, curling up
beside me. Warmth radiated off him in waves. I snuggled into that
warmth almost instinctively.  My eyes closed as my body relaxed and
quit shivering.  I hardly noticed Vivian moving away from my side.
Soon, a huge black leopard settled on my other side, her tail
wrapping around my feet and lower legs.  I chuckled tiredly. "I don't
bother anyone. Just go about minding my own business. Is it too much
to ask that people not bother me?" My only answer was a rough lick on
the cheek from Stephen and a rumbling purr from Vivian.


I think I dozed off for a bit. The layers of stone in between muted
the blasts of power from Asher's duel. I lost track of time.  The
next thing I knew, I felt Stephen and Vivian's warmth move away from
me. I opened my eyes to Asher kneeling over me.  "Well, you look like
you came through this better than I did," I observed. "What the hell
was that all about anyway?"  "Gunthor was an old rival from my time
at court with the Council," he explained. He traced a finger down my
cheek. "I almost lost you, cherie.  Why didn't you call me sooner?"
"Didn't want to distract you from your negotiations."  "Oh, Tamara,
don't you realize how precious you are to me? The business can wait."


A wry smile spread across his face. "Besides, I don't think *Derik*
would not be as easy to deal with as Gunthor was if harm were to
befall you. He puts me much in mind of Edward."  I had to laugh. "I
know what you mean. The training is lacking, but he does have a
similar mentality at times."  Asher still wouldn't tell me what all
was involved in the agreement that he and my husband had come to.
Derik was equally taciturn on the subject.  The only obvious changes
were the cell phone Asher had given me, and the fact that he'd toned
down the seductiveness. He still flirted with me, but not as
aggressively. That was both a relief and a bit of a disappointment.
I *had* been getting close to giving in.

Given Derik's mercurial temperament, it was just as well that I
hadn't.  Still, knowing Derik the way I do, he could actually suggest
I give in to Asher's advances. I wouldn't put it past him.  Then my
thoughts returned to more immediate events. I latched onto the
fact that Asher had distinctly used the past tense referring to
Gunthor.  "Asher, that bastard tried to kill me. If you haven't
destroyed him, I *will* kill him," I stated. "I have never been that
scared in my life."  "Do not worry, cherie," Asher soothed. "He is
well and truly dead.  Gunthor was a thorn in my side for over a
century. This was the final insult. His attack on you classified this
as a Council-sanctioned kill for me. There will be no reprisals. I
have sent our furry friends to handle clean up." Ew.


"Thank you so much for *that* visual," I winced. I knew, or at least
had a good idea what he meant by *clean up*. "Can I go hope now?"
"Oui, ma cherie," Asher said as he helped me to my feet. "I shall
escort you to your room. Perhaps you will require
some...comforting...after tonight's ordeal." That warm, rich purr had
crept back into his voice.  I smiled and took his arm.  "You never
give up, do you?"  "Non, cherie. I am very patient... and persistent."
"That you are, Asher. That you are."