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“How are we supposed to protect ourselves?” Winchester asked. “None of us are strong enough to defeat him.”
Rhys shook his head. As long as humans didn’t invite the Undead into their homes, they were safe behind their thresholds. Rhys didn’t really understand why thresholds repelled vampires; he only knew that it worked. In a world of supernatural power, thresholds possessed a strength all their own created by the owner’s sense of belonging, of love and family and shared experiences. Unfortunately, vampire thresholds had no such power. If Villagrande came calling, there was no way to keep him out.
“Safety in numbers, maybe,” Adams suggested. “It worked during the war.”
“It might be worth a try,” Rhys said, though he didn’t think the Council would go for it. Vampires were notoriously distrustful of their own kind, jealous of their hunting grounds. “You can all stay here if it’ll make you feel better.”
“What about you?” Winchester asked. “Are you gonna stay here with us?”
“No. If Villagrande’s out to take over my territory, you guys should probably stay as far away from me as you can. Maybe you should all take a vacation to the East Coast for as long as he’s here.”
“You want us to leave you here alone?” Rupert asked.
Adams frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“He needs to stay here,” Julius said. “He’s the only one who has a chance against Villagrande.”
“Let’s hope.” Rhys slapped his hands against his thighs. “Unless anyone has anything else to say, this meeting is over.”
Rhys didn’t hang around to see what the members of the Council decided. He had a sudden need to see Megan, to hold her close while he still could because, unless he was badly mistaken, the preternatural crap was about to hit the fan.
Megan woke to someone quietly calling her name. She smiled as she recognized the soft, seductive voice.
“Rhys.” She murmured his name as she sat up and turned on the light. “What are you doing here at this time of the morning?” she asked, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. “It’ll be dawn soon.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and slipped his arm around her waist. “I needed to see you.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Yeah.”
She smothered a yawn behind her hand. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No.”
“Is this about Shirl?”
“In a way.” Leaning forward, he inhaled her scent, then kissed her cheek.
“Rhys, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“That vampire your friend is tangled up with—Tomás? I think he’s after my territory.”
“You’re not going to fight him for it, are you? I mean…are you?”
“I sure as hell hope not.”
She looked up at him, her gaze searching his. “You can beat him, can’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“But…don’t you have the same powers he does? I mean, aren’t all vampires created equal?”
“No. There are a number of variables involved in becoming a vampire. The most important thing is who sired you. If you’re made by one of the old ones, you automatically inherit some of his power. The longer you exist, the stronger you get, mentally and physically.”
“Who made you?”
“I don’t know. I never knew her name, or how old she was. She found me one night and took me to her home. I didn’t know what she was. She said she was going to give me a gift, and that she was going to destroy herself when the sun came up.” He paused, remembering. “I was young. She was beautiful. We made love all that night, and then, just before dawn, she turned me. When I woke the next night, she was gone. She left me a note telling me what I had become and what I needed to do to survive.”
“Do you know who made Villagrande?”
“No. Nobody knows who made him, or how old he is.”
“But he’s older than you?”
Rhys nodded.
“And that makes him stronger?”
“Right.”
“You never told me how old you are,” Megan said, momentarily distracted by Rhys’s mention of age.
“Sure I did.”
“You told me you were twenty-five. Is that the truth?”
“Close to it. I was a week shy of my twenty-first birthday.”
Megan groaned softy. “You’re only twenty?”
“And you’re twenty-nine. It doesn’t bother me. Don’t let it bother you.”
He was right. There was no point in worrying about it, especially now. “So, you’re in danger?”
He shrugged, as if it didn’t concern him in the least, but she sensed the tension in him, knew he wasn’t as confident as he wanted her to believe.
“What can I do?”
“I don’t want you involved in this.”
Reaching up, she drew his head down and kissed him. “I’m already involved.”
“Villagrande is ruthless, and he plays for keeps.”
“What does he want with Shirl?”
Rhys traced the curve of her cheek with the tip of one finger. “What does any man want from a beautiful woman?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I don’t know what Villagrande wants. I don’t know what he’s planning. I only know I’ve got a bad feeling about the whole thing. It might be wise for us to stay apart for a while. I don’t want him finding you through me.”
“No! How can you suggest that when we just got back together?”
“Megan, I’m only thinking of your safety.”
With a toss of her head, she exclaimed, “I’m not afraid of him!”
That foolish declaration scared him more than anything else. “Well, I am. One more thing. I want you to change the locks on the doors first thing in the morning. If Shirl comes here again, I want you to revoke her welcome.”
“What? Why? Oh! Because she’s with him now.”
“Right the first time.”
“And she can invite him inside.”
“You catch on quick, darlin’.”
“You don’t think she’d let him hurt me, do you?”
“I don’t know, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Megan nodded, amazed at how quickly her life had been turned upside down yet again.
