CHRISTIAN TRIED TO call Victoria several times throughout the morning with no success. He decided that he would try the ski lodge once his meeting with the Council was over. It had only been a couple days, but he needed to know that she was all right.

The limousine cut west neatly through the afternoon traffic on the way to La Défense, the business center of Paris. The Council was a powerful body that owned several wealthy corporations and made use of their boardrooms to conduct other business like special Council meetings. Real estate was just another of the perks of immortality.

The limousine pulled to a stop, and the chauffeur opened the door. Looking up briefly at the overcast sky, Christian stepped out, leaving his overcoat in the car and walked briskly over to the Tour Areva, one of the tallest skyscrapers in La Défense. The building was entirely black, fitting for its owners, with dark granite walls and darkly tinted windows, a massive onyx structure rising more than six hundred feet into the air.

Christian walked into the lobby and immediately turned heads. Despite his youth, his height commanded attention, and the authority and confidence he emanated, held it. Dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal Italian suit, crisp white shirt left open at the neck with no tie, and polished Dior loafers, he certainly looked the part of an executive. He looked young, sophisticated and entirely too dangerous.

Normally Christian preferred a more casual look but at these Council meetings, appearances were everything, especially for someone considered vampire royalty. By human standards, nineteen was young. By vampire standards, a hundred and seventy-five even more so. Still, after so many years, the pretense came naturally to him and his act was flawless.

He took the private elevator to the top floor where a gorgeous brunette showed him into the conference room. Human, with not a mark on her perfect, bronzed skin that he could see. He smiled and was rewarded with a warm look of unmistakable invitation. So maybe the marks were elsewhere. In a delightful breathy voice, she said, "They'll be here soon. Is there anything I can get you?"

Christian smiled again and declined, allowing himself to relax a bit after she left, although he wasn't naive enough to think that they weren't watching him, so he continued to play the part, lounging in his chair and looking indifferent to being kept waiting.

When the receptionist came back in to let him know that they would be in shortly, he stood up and strode over to the floor to ceiling windows. The city of La Défense stretched in an undulating wave below, and even when he heard the door open behind him, he didn't turn around until he knew they were all there.

"My Lords," he began, using the formal address, "I am here at your request." He stared around the long table, his gaze impassive yet respectful. Despite knowing the part that he was expected to play, he was also well aware of the power at this table. Some of the Elders were thousands of years old. He recognized many of the faces and nodded politely to those he knew. Others were unfamiliar, younger members more recently inducted to the Council. Though Paris was its headquarters, the Council was global, with twenty members from all over the world. Christian also noticed with some surprise that there were now two female members on the Council. Things were changing.

On the whole, he did not detect any measure of blatant hostility, although some of the newer faces were wary. Good, that meant that they knew what to expect.

Enhard, one of the Council speakers, stood gesturing for Christian to sit at the last remaining seat at the table. Enhard was handsome, his unlined youthful face belying the fact that he was several hundred centuries old and considered an Elder. Christian sat with a gracious inclination of his head.

"Your Grace, thank you for coming," Enhard said. "As the first matter of business today, we raise the issue of the prophecy. We fear that the actions of your brother, Lord Devereux, will bring war upon us. The witch clans have made claims that he has murdered innocents in his blind desire to discover Le Sang Noir. The worst offense was a thirteen year old witch killed in full view of her entire coven." Enhard paused. Christian's face remained impassive. "There is a centuries-old truce based on a violent past between vampires and witches; we don't hunt them and they don't attack us. Our agreements have been tenuous at best, and our truce is now in jeopardy. His flagrant disrespect of this law, among others, must be addressed."

Enhard stopped, his dark gaze intense. The tension in the room was palpable.

"We respect the power and lineage of the House of Devereux, and it is in deference to this ancestry that we have come to you. Lucian must be controlled." Enhard's voice was soft, but the veiled warning in it was unmistakable. Other members of the Council nodded their heads in vehement agreement.

"What is it you expect me to do, my Lords?" Christian said coolly. "I will tolerate no attack against my brother."

His manner was deferential yet imperious. There was a muttering as if they hadn't quite expected him to respond in that manner. What they didn't understand was his loyalty. Regardless of what Christian thought of Lucian and his reckless activities, he would never throw him to the wolves of the Council, no matter the cost.

One of the younger council members called Avael spoke. "You must speak to your brother and advise him of the consequences if he chooses to pursue this course of action!"

"And what are the consequences?" The astonished looks he received were almost worth the price of asking the audacious question. He leaned forward in an attitude of expectant inquiry.

"Why, execution, of course," said Avael. Christian's expression hardened. Enhard rushed to amend Avael's overzealous response.

"What Lord Avael means, of course, is that the Council will be forced to take immediate punitive action against Lucian. The massacres he has orchestrated against the witches are bringing undue attention to us. Our society is at risk. He must be stopped," he said.

Christian stood and walked to the wall of glass overlooking the business district, clasping his hands behind his back. He knew it was not considered good manners to turn his back to the Council, but it was a strategic move. He waited several long minutes, feeling the stares boring into his back, before he turned and addressed the Council.

"What of Le Sang Noir?" His simple, direct question sent a ripple of anxiety through the conference room. Christian was resolute. He had to understand what they knew about the fulfillment of the prophecy. Several sputtered as if in shock. He could see that Avael was contemplating saying something rash. He liked to keep them off-balance. They had far too much confidence in their own power.

Enhard responded, as Christian faced them, waiting. "Our Watchers have revealed movement in the magical spheres, something big. We believe that Le Sang Noir has reappeared and caused this disturbance."

"And have you pinpointed its location?"

The Council members murmured and Enhard raised a hand slowly for silence. He knew they believed that he was going too far, sharing this much with Christian Devereux, despite his lineage and status in the vampire world. Enhard knew that if it came down to it, any animosity between Christian Devereux and the Council could only end badly. Even Christian didn't comprehend the full power of his lineage, not his human one, but his vampire lineage. It was the main reason Enhard had petitioned him for help against Lucian. Any other course of action would have meant declaring war against the House of Devereux, all in all, a very foolish proposition.

"Yes," he said, and Christian's heart lurched. "We know that she is somewhere in the Americas."

Christian resumed his position at the table, knowing that the Council would interpret the gesture as a positive action. He placed his elbows on the table forming a steeple with his hands. His body language was non-threatening, and he could feel the Council members relax now that the worst had passed. Or so they thought.

"Regardless, what makes you think I would do anything to hand my brother over to the Council?" he asked. Enhard glanced at him sharply, recognizing his double-edged tone of voice and Christian returned his gaze evenly. "Especially now that you have confirmed the existence of Le Sang Noir."

Several Council members jumped to their feet in angry response, and Christian pushed his chair back deliberately, his long, lithe body signaling danger, forearms braced against the edge of the table. His face was as hard as sculpted marble.

David, another Elder, stood along with Enhard and commanded everyone to sit down. Christian remained standing, his stance uncompromising. David spoke, his ancient voice thready.

"Your Grace, I understand your reluctance to agree, but Lucian is dangerous. His desires outweigh his judgment. All we ask is that you get him to see reason. We simply cannot risk war with the magic world." He hesitated. "You are correct to be wary of Le Sang Noir, but so should we all, for if the witch clans harness its power against us, we are lost."

Although Christian saw the undeniable truth in David's eyes, he wasn't naive. He knew that if he had given in to the Council about Lucian, they would own them both and the House of Devereux. He'd had enough.

"As you wish, I will speak to Lucian," he conceded. "But on my terms."

He inclined his head graciously and walked out of the conference room without a backward glance. He had almost reached the elevator when a voice called out behind him. Christian turned and saw that it was Enhard, whose face was cautious as he approached.

"Thank you, Christian," he said. "I know this must have been hard for you."

"Come on Enhard, you've known Lucian as long as I have. When has anything he has done not been hard for me?" Enhard chuckled in response and Christian relaxed.

Enhard had been more like a father to the two of them than he cared to admit. In fact, Enhard had been one of the vampires who had found them on the edge of death. Ever since they had been turned, he'd stayed close as a mentor and guide throughout the years.

Christian clasped Enhard's shoulders and brought him close into an embrace kissing him on both cheeks, as was the French custom. He knew that even in the foyer that he would still be closely watched, and it was always critical to keep up appearances and alliances especially with someone as powerful as Enhard. The Council was meticulous in the extreme, and the embrace was as deliberate as were Christian's next words.

"Meet me at L'Echiquier at the Hilton," Christian murmured, as he embraced Enhard. "My warmest regards to your family," he said in a normal voice. Then he entered the elevator, Enhard watching him until the doors closed.

CHRISTIAN SAT IN the bar in a comfortable club chair. He had chosen an out of the way corner which offered a clear line of sight. He ordered a glass of cognac from the flirtatious waitress and sipped it waiting for Enhard. Even though the cognac had little effect on him, he enjoyed the taste of it.

The waitress came by again, her look suggestive and inviting as she asked him if there was anything else she could get for him. It would have been easy enough to consider her explicit invitation with her reddish hair and lush hips, but he politely said that he was fine for just then. She smiled provocatively as she walked past him, and he sighed. It seemed that Paris incited his predatory magnetism.

In Canville, life was a lot simpler. He was an ordinary student, and he liked it that way. He blended in, and tried very hard to make his dark nature invisible. He was certain that he was the only vampire in Canville, and that was why he'd chosen it—obscurity. When he took blood from humans, he had always made sure that it was well away from the small town. Christian had learned early on that his vampire magnetism was a capricious thing. Sometimes the seduced remembered him long after he had satiated himself and sent them on their way, so he preferred to err on the side of caution.

Still, the vampire magnetism had its uses ... and benefits. Christian smiled, thinking of Victoria.

"I hope that smile isn't for me," Enhard said, as he sat down on the vacant club chair opposite Christian. Christian shrugged, embarrassed.

"I was just thinking of a friend," he said.

"If she can make you smile like that when she's not around, I shudder to think what you are like when she is around," he said. He settled into the chair and leaned forward expectantly.

Christian deliberated momentarily, but then for some reason or perhaps because he just wanted to talk to someone about her, he decided to tell Enhard the truth. Well, the partial truth.

"Her name is Tori. She's beautiful and captivating."

Christian could see Enhard going through the Rolodex in his head, trying to make a match. He waited until he saw Enhard's brows furrow as he struggled to figure it out.

"She's human, Enhard," he said. Enhard's eyes widened because that was possibly the last thing he had expected to hear, given the besotted look he had seen on Christian's face.

"Human?" he echoed dumbly, his expression vacant. Christian wanted to laugh. It wasn't that unheard of! But he knew where Enhard was coming from, the whole royal blood thing, and the fact that any good female vampire would kill to be with a Devereux.

"Christian, there are tons of girls, good vampire girls from good families who would be perfect for you," he said predictably.

"Enhard, she's the one. Human or not, it doesn't matter."

Enhard sat back in his chair at a loss for words. The whole mortal/immortal issue was not a trifling one, and the fact was that Christian had already made one vampire. Their laws were very specific—a vampire could only be made with the approval of the Council, and in most cases, a vampire was only allowed to make one other vampire. Control of numbers was a critical part of their existence.

"Christian, I am sure you understand my concern. It's not that I haven't had my fair share of female human companions over the years, but those relationships were fleeting, because their lives are fleeting," Enhard said after several minutes. "You know the law."

"Yes, I do." Christian's face was impassive and Enhard sighed, leaning back in his chair. He knew when to let the matter drop. "So tell me what the real agenda of the Council is," Christian said bluntly. Enhard's face immediately went serious.

"It's not an agenda, Christian. Lucian's actions have been terrible. I understand what's driving him, but he is risking our way of life for something that may not even exist."

Christian gave him a sidelong sardonic glance. "I thought you said that Le Sang Noir was for real?"

"Yes, we believe so. But it still doesn't mean that he can use it for whatever he thinks he can use it for. It's like an urban legend. No one actually knows how it works." Enhard looked at Christian, noticing the suddenly shuttered look in his eyes, and rushed to continue. "Lucian is obsessed with the prophecy, and his pursuit of this obsession is bringing us to the brink of war. You know, Christian, as well as I do, that Lucian is dangerous." He took a long sip of his drink. "The Council wanted to take immediate action against him but many fear him and lack the courage to oppose him."

"Enhard, you know that I want no part of the House of Devereux. Lucian is the House of Devereux, not me."

"But you are first-born. It is your birthright, and you are the only one powerful enough to stop him," Enhard said, desperate.

Christian smiled. "My birthright has always been what I choose it to be." He signaled the waitress to bring him another cognac, and leaned back in his chair. "Tell me more about Le Sang Noir," he said. Enhard stared at him.

"We are not a hundred percent certain that it is back, but the movement of magic this year alone has been immeasurable. We've always kept an eye on the witch clans and the ebb and flow of magic over the years, just as they've kept a close watch on our numbers. Recently, the magic index has spiked, indicating the possible reemergence of Le Sang Noir. We're still not sure though. All of our information has been spotty at best as to what exactly is its true power," he said. He leaned forward, his voice a whisper.

"The Council suspects that Lucian has an alliance with a witch or warlock." At Christian's disbelieving look, Enhard continued. "There are magical wards in place that were not here before. Even our Seers are inhibited by them, they are so powerful." Enhard's handsome face was anxious, and after eight hundred odd years, it took a lot to get him worried.

"Exactly what kind of wards are we talking about?" Christian asked suddenly very alert. He thought back to the strange feeling he'd had when he entered Lucian's house, that odd cloaking feeling. Something started to click into place.

"Dark magic, Christian, I'm sure of it," Enhard said. Christian had never seen the old vampire look so troubled. "They've grown stronger in the last day."

"Enhard, if Lucian discovered Le Sang Noir somehow, what would that mean?"

Enhard hesitated, searching for the right words. "I love Lucian as my own son, as I do you," he said, "but Lucian has become ... corrupt. He does not follow the old code. You know we kill if we have to ..." Enhard stopped to acknowledge Christian's raised eyebrow, and nodded. "It is our way Christian, even if you disagree. But your brother Lucian kills for pleasure, indiscriminately and even more so in search of Le Sang Noir and the power it holds. He is deliberately careless, and it makes the Elders nervous for our security. We have lived through countless centuries, millennia even, in the proverbial shadows." Enhard seemed amused at his choice of words. "Not like we used to, of course, but metaphorically speaking now." He gestured needlessly at the people swirling around them.

"It's not just the witches, Christian, the humans are beginning to notice. Their scientists and forensic experts have the tools and the technology now, not to mention all the books and films flaunting our secrets! In the beginning, it was easy to get rid of the ones that got too close, but now your brother is making it impossible to do so without drawing more attention from the humans. They take murder very seriously, if you hadn't noticed." Enhard took a sip of his drink and waved away the waitress who hovered far too solicitously for her own good.

"On top of that, Lucian's disregard for our treaties with the witch clans and his obvious acts of provocation including the murder of a high priestess, have drawn their censure. Any personal alliance with a witch is forbidden. They are calling for retribution in blood, your brother's blood." Enhard put both hands in front of him placatingly, his voice harsh with regret. "I'm sorry to have to be the one—" he said, and stopped when Christian put a hand on his arm.

"I've known for a long time that Lucian's desires would cost him," he said. "I just didn't realize we could all pay the price. Have they agreed on a course of action?"

"Yes. If you fail to stop him, the Council will vote on execution."

"What are their terms?" He knew quite well that Lucian would have little chance if the Council went to a vote as, given their fear of Lucian, the outcome was certain.

"Surrender of the witch or warlock helping him," said Enhard.

"And Lucian?"

"He will be spared at the discretion of the Council. If he pursues any additional act of aggression against the witch clans, or does not abide by the laws of the Council, the vote will proceed."

A muscle ticked in Christian's jaw. Enhard's face was sharp with pity. The situation had worsened in the last few months and given the state of the Council, Christian had little hope to save Lucian without a miracle. Lucian's desire for power blinded him to everything else, and the deadly lure of Le Sang Noir had poisoned that desire and turned it into manic obsession.

"Tell the Council that it is a witch they seek, a short, dark-haired, dark-skinned woman. See if it can buy some goodwill," said Christian. Now he knew why those bruises on the woman's arms in Lucian's house had disturbed him—they were cleverly done, fake markings. That, coupled with her authoritative attitude in a roomful of deadly vampires, should have been a giveaway. He was angry with himself for only just figuring it out even though there was probably nothing he could have done differently. Enhard glanced at his watch and Christian stood, putting on his coat. They embraced.

"Thank you for your candor, my friend. I will see what I can do to salvage this and save my brother from himself."

Christian got into the limo and instructed the driver to head for Lucian's apartment. He raked his hands through his hair, furious with Lucian for endangering their way of life, their family, and their very existence.

This witch helping Lucian puzzled him because he couldn't understand what she would have to gain by aligning with a vampire. Even if Lucian were successful in finding Le Sang Noir, her only aim would be to kill him just as his would be to kill her once Lucian had exhausted her aid. Christian's only hope was that their continued alliance along with the magical wards meant that Lucian hadn't discovered Le Sang Noir.

But just as he finished that thought, he realized he was wrong about the wards. Enhard had said they'd become stronger a day ago ... just in time for Christian's arrival in Paris. They'd been strengthened for him.

Victoria!

Christian's first call was to the airport. His pilot would have his plane ready to leave in two hours. The second was to Victoria, voicemail again! Frustrated, he snapped the phone shut. Before the limousine even came to a complete stop, he had jumped out and slammed into Lucian's apartment, palpable rage streaming from every part of his body.

"Lucian!" he roared as he tore through the apartment like a whirlwind with enraged inhuman speed, ignoring the shocked stares of Lucian's guests.

Yes, dear brother. Lucian's mental voice dripped with sarcasm. Christian found him in the master bedroom on the fourth level of the townhouse. He was standing in front of the bed holding a naked girl close, his lips rimmed in red and his eyes feral. The bemused girl swooned as Lucian tossed her unceremoniously onto the bed, licking the lips that had pulled back in a sneer upon seeing Christian.

Snack? he asked. Christian snarled so ferociously that the girl's eyes snapped open from her semi-trance, and she shrank back among the sheets, staring at them like the monsters they were.

"Out!" Christian barked at the girl as she stared at him with terrified eyes. It would be up to her to make it out of the house alive, which probably wouldn't happen. He gritted his teeth. "Wait outside," he said, his eyes fierce and compelling, and she obeyed. Christian turned his attention back to Lucian who stared at him, a mix of boredom and arrogant defiance playing across his features.

"The Council will issue an execution edict for you unless you surrender the witch helping you to uncover the prophecy." At Lucian's stunned look, Christian smiled coldly. "Did you think they wouldn't find out? Magic use is carefully monitored. They know you are aligned with a witch. You are violating the terms of the truce, and they want you to stop. Surrender her and you live." Christian's voice brooked no disagreement. Lucian's eyes became manic as he stared at Christian.

"She is the key," he said. "I will not. I am so close that the Council's empty threats will mean nothing! They will soon be begging for me to spare them!" Lucian's eyes were demented, and Christian felt genuine alarm for his brother's state of mind.

"Lucian, Le Sang Noir is a legend. It won't make you invincible! Even if it could, your witch would kill you the minute she found it, don't you know that?"

Lucian's uncontrolled, hollow laughter echoed in the room.

"Kill me?" he said. "She won't."

"Why is she helping you?" Christian tried a different tack. Still, all he received in response was more of the same hollow, mocking laughter.

"Trust me, brother, and you can spare me the misplaced show of brotherly concern, there is no way she would kill me. Come on, ask me why?"

"Okay, why?"

"Let's just say, she knows who will lead the new world. In return for her services, she will have whatever she desires," he said, laughing more at Christian's incredulous expression. "You would be surprised at how vicious she is, she's the one who killed the other witches, not me. I think she's a bit mad. Must have been why she was exiled." He smiled cruelly at Christian's shock. "My gain, though. Her services include a unique charm that can identify Le Sang Noir. Like I said, the Council will be on their knees in a matter of days," he said. "I suppose when Le Sang Noir is mine, I can dispose of her if I need to but I have a feeling that she will be quite useful to me in unearthing the weaknesses of the witch clans."

"Are you insane, Lucian? She is an exile for a reason!" Christian said. It was common knowledge that an exiled witch or wizard meant only one thing—mental illness. Normally they were stripped of the magical powers because they were so volatile, but it sounded like this particular witch had found a way to retain some of her magical abilities. That made her, and Lucian, very dangerous.

"So?"

"Where is she?" Christian said, suddenly realizing that on his way in, he had not noticed either the mysterious witch or Lena. Nor did he like his brother's coldly evil smile.

"Hunting," Lucian taunted with a meaningful smirk, and the air whooshed out of Christian's body.

"If anything happens to her—"

"What? I die? Get in line, brother!"

Christian turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. On his way out, he remembered the frightened girl who remained sitting on a settee in the hallway. He grabbed her by the arm, and her entire body pitched forward like a dead weight. Fresh red streaks stained her skin, and crescent-shaped gouges disfigured her limbs. She was dead. The scavengers had gotten to her.

Christian noticed a white face staring at him malevolently from a doorway further down the hall, and he snarled. The face disappeared. Untold horrors lurked in every shadow of that house; things that made the most gruesome stories told about vampires seem like fairy tales. He felt a twinge of pity for the girl's wasted life but maybe it was for the best, she would have suffered far worse at Lucian's hands. He couldn't get out of there fast enough.

In the car, he tried Victoria's phone again and got a busy signal. Either her phone was dead or she still didn't have service. His next phone call was to Enhard to let him know that the witch was an exile. With any luck, the witch clans could use the information to narrow down possible options and to help to contain the situation.

The car drove onto the airfield as he stared impatiently out the window, knowing he could run faster and almost deciding to do it, when his phone rang. The number came up as private.

"Yes?" His voice was terse.

"Christian? It's me ..." He collapsed back into the seat, his relief palpable. "Look I'm really sorry if you tried to call, I don't have any service here. I'm calling from a landline at the lodge with a calling card."

"I did try to call, several times," he said hoarsely.

"I was really worried that something had happened with Lucian when I didn't hear from you, not even a message," she said. "Is everything okay? What happened with the Council?"

"I'm sorry I didn't leave a message. Everything is okay, I'll explain later. I'm leaving, on my way back."

"Home?"

"Yes." He didn't want to scare her but he needed to make sure that she was alert and wary of possible danger. "Listen, Tori, there's been a complication. Remember the woman who attacked you in Canville? Well, she may be back. You need to be careful, stay with people at all times until I get to you. I will come for you, okay?" His voice was urgent, compelling. He needed her to listen to him at all costs. He knew that the likelihood of Lena attacking in public was low, but he also knew how far Lucian would go to get what he wanted.

"Does this have anything to do with the barrier around you and the reason we can't communicate?" Victoria asked.

"Yes, it does," he said. "Promise me you'll stay with your friends!"

"I will."

"We're taking off now. I'll see you soon. Be safe, Tori."

"Bye, Christian."