He'd been driving by the nightclub for weeks now. It was a new place and right on the way to the loft. It looked like one of the better nightclubs he'd seen in his time. The parking lot was always full and the exterior was artsy and hip, guaranteed to draw in a young crowd. So on this Friday night, here he stood in the parking lot, when he decided to stop on the spur of the moment, determined not to spend another weekend sitting at home alone with his nonexistent social life.

Harm walked toward the front of the club where a line was formed waiting to get in. One of the bouncers checking I.D. was a tall blonde with very fair skin, almost bloodless in the overhead lights. Harm caught her icy gaze and she motioned for him to come to the doors. Her cool gaze flickered over his tall form and then she smiled, her blood red lips a stark contrast to her white skin and teeth.

"I.D., sir," she murmured, her voice light and musical.

Harm flipped his wallet open and she gave his military and driver's license pictures a cursory glance.

"Hand," she ordered. He held it up and she stamped the back. "Enjoy your night."

Harm simply nodded and walked past her into the dark interior of the nightclub. He hesitated to let his eyes adjust and felt the loud music pound through his body. The beat was heavy and exotic, almost like something you might hear in a tribal recording. There were multiple dance floors around the cavernous building and they were all packed. Harm was dressed in black trousers and a silky black shirt and around him were all manners of dress. Many of the club goers were in black from head-to-toe. He glanced down at the back of his hand and saw the stamp the bouncer put there glowing. Of all the things to use, it was a blood red pair of lips drawn back to reveal vampire fangs. A drop of red blood was hanging from one of the fangs.

Harm took another good look around the club. Maybe this wasn't his type of place after all. He wished now he hadn't given into the impulse to stop when he was driving by. Or he should have at least called Mac to see if she wanted to come join him. Maybe he wouldn't feel as out of place as he did standing there alone. Or maybe…

"Surely a man such as yourself is not here alone."

Harm turned at the low voice and saw a woman that literally took his breath away. Nearly as tall as he was, she was the epitome of every man's fantasies standing there in the flesh.

"This was a spur of the moment decision," he answered, hastily gathering his composure and hoping he at least appeared cool and collected.

She raised one delicate brow, as black as the heavy fall of curls down her back and pursed her lips. "Sometimes those are the best decisions," she acknowledged. "You haven't been here before." It was a statement as if she could identify everyone in the building.

"Thought I might check the place out," he shrugged. "Isn't that the kind of pick up line men are supposed to use?" he asked, giving her an appreciative smile.

She shifted the slightest bit. "Do I look like I need a pick up line?" she asked coyly.

Her words had the desired effect as Harm's gaze raked her from the top of the head to the toes of her stilettos. She was an exquisite vision in black. Leather pants molded to the length of her legs and gently rounded hips like they were her very own skin. Her top was the richest black velvet, cut deep in the neckline to showcase an impressive bust and tight over a narrow waist he could probably span with his hands.

"No, you don't," he said finally. "I imagine you have to beat men off with a stick."

"Sometimes," she nodded, managing to say it without coming off conceited. "And sometimes I am the pursuer," she added.

"Find anything worth pursuing tonight?" Harm prompted lazily, starting to feel like a kid with a Christmas present.

"Maybe," she drawled softly, lifting a hand to trail her fingers down his forearm, her touch light as a feather and cool. "Let's dance."

Without a word, Harm let her lead him to the dance floor, through the heavy throng of bodies to the thick of the action. The song changed to something Harm didn't know how to classify. Not quite slow but not fast and without words. A rhythm that sounded dangerous and exotic. His lovely dance partner wound her arms around his neck, aligning her body with his as she begin to move with the beat. Harm held her tightly, his senses overwhelmed by the music. It was strangely cool in the club despite the heavy crush of bodies, the air heady and sweet with something unidentifiable. Her silvery blue eyes locked with his, her full red lips only a breath away. Harm felt the heavy thud of his heart and blood pounded through his veins. The hunger to possess this woman sparked like a wildfire, overriding the good sense of a man who didn't indulge in one-night stands. Steeling himself against the onslaught of feeling, Harm grasped her arms to pull them from around his neck. She chose that moment to trail her lips along the strong column of his neck, the tip of her tongue flicking against his pulse.

With an almost savage groan, Harm tugged her head back and kissed her hard. She matched his fervor, her full lips melding perfectly to his, her tongue meeting his every thrust. The music continued around them, an endless, flowing stream of sound and rhythm. He was burning up and she was cool against him, her lush curves filling his hands. Harm grasped her bottom and pulled her closer, desperate to relieve the ache that gripped him in an iron fist. He felt her tongue against the underside of his jaw, leaving moist trails along the side of his neck. She nipped at his earlobe and a shiver racked his tall form.

Some small shred of sanity pushed forth in Harm's head and he grabbed her arms tightly. "We can't do this," he muttered against her ear.

She took the ordered step back and looked up at him, her silvery blue eyes glowing like twin flames. "By whose rules?" she asked huskily.

Good question. Harm stared at her blankly for several seconds. "I just met you," he protested, knowing it sounded lame even as he said it.

"Is that why we can't do this?"

"Don't believe in beating around the bush, do you," he sighed.

"I know you feel it," she murmured. "The music and the heat – it's in your blood. I know you want me and I'm here for the taking," she stated boldly, pushing her hips against him. She pulled loose of his grasp and wrapped her arms around his neck again, drawing their bodies back together. "Just dance for now. Stop thinking and just feel. Me and the music," she whispered seductively in his ear. "Me and the music."

The words repeated like a litany in his ear until they raced with his blood. Harm's mind closed down to everything but the space in time they were occupying. To the feel of her in his arms and the desire she aroused. She dropped her head back and he feasted on the exposed milky skin of her throat, drawing circles with his tongue the same way she'd done to him earlier. Her hands moved to clutch his head, her fingers tangled in the silky strands. His teeth toyed with her earlobe before moving down her neck. He nipped lightly at her skin and heard her hiss in response as he soothed the sting with his tongue. Giving himself over, he slid one hand between their bodies and covered her breast, feeling the silky skin spilling over the top of her velvet shirt. Her nails raked the length of his back in response and she brought her head back up so they could kiss again. Their mouths met in an endless river, the need to breath overruled by the need to consume.

"Celinda has found a match in this one."

"He is weak. He fought for only seconds before giving into the passion."

Two figures stood on a balcony high above the dancers, clothed in darkness and watchful of the scene being played out below.

"Not weakness, my darling, but strength to take what he wants. His weakness would be in resisting what she so freely offers. I believe she will bring this one across."

"Let us hope she doesn't make a mistake."

Harm came awake slowly, disoriented. He opened his eyes without moving and waited for the numbers of the clock to come into focus. It was still early but he felt like he'd been asleep for years. Very slowly, he rolled onto his back and rose to a sitting position, feeling his body protest. He was stiff and his right arm was asleep from laying on it. He sat for several minutes, breathing slowly to get his bearings and shake off the remnants of sleep. Coming to his feet, he went straight to the shower and turned on the cold water.

Several minutes later and ten times more alert, he made his way to the kitchen and saw that it was growing dark outside, not light. Frowning, he looked at the clocks on the stove and microwave. It was almost 1830.

"I couldn't have slept all day," he mumbled.

He leaned back against the counter and rubbed a hand over his face. He didn't remember anything other than dancing with Celinda last night. He didn't even remember coming home and he hadn't had a drop of alcohol the entire time he was at the club. He remembered only that he came in just before dawn. They hadn't spent the night together somewhere alone as he'd been afraid of, but rather they stayed right on the dance floor, pressed together. Even now, the memories brought him to instant arousal. No other woman in his life had ever effected his body and mind so thoroughly. Not even Mac, whom he loved deeply. Instantly, guilt flushed through him. Mac would be ashamed if she ever knew about his behavior at the club. But even now he could smell Celinda's perfume and feel the press of her soft body. And he had to see her just one more time – to see if it would be as he remembered.

The female bouncer from the night before recognized him immediately and he was waved through the doors after getting his hand stamped. He stood off to the side for a moment, searching the dark interior for any sign of Celinda.

"Looking for anyone in particular?"

Harm spun around when he heard her husky voice. Desire punched him in the gut. Tonight she was clad in a long, flowing dress of burgundy velvet, something from an era gone by. The neckline plunged in a deep vee almost to her waist, her pale skin glowing like a pearl in the opening. The flared cuffs of the long sleeves brushed her blood red nails.

"You knew I would come back," he said, almost accusingly.

She laughed, her whiskey-flavored voice ruffling his every nerve into awareness. "No one forced you," she pointed out.

Harm snaked an arm around her waist and yanked her against him hard, his expression dark and forbidding. His other hand tangled in her long curls and pulled her head back. "We have some unfinished business," he ground out.

She flicked the tip of her tongue across her lips, tempting him further. "So we do," she murmured, her light eyes aglow. "We're in no hurry, Harmon, and the night is young. Dance with me," she commanded lightly.

In seconds they were in the memories of last night, locked together in the middle of the dance floor amidst a throng of bodies. Unable and unwilling to fight what she made him feel any longer, Harm gave himself over to the heavy throb of the music and the woman he held so tightly against him. He kissed her hungrily, feeling the silken glide of her tongue against his as his hands gripped the now familiar curves.

"There is strong desire in you," Celinda whispered against his ear. "You are making me hungry, Commander. Hungry for something only you can give me."

"You're a witch, Celinda," he ground out against her mouth as he kissed her again.

"I am the one under your spell," she answered seductively. "I can no longer wait to be alone with you," she told him. "Take me somewhere, Harmon. Now."

Without a word, Harm took her hand and started across the dance floor to the doors. In seconds he had her in the 'vette and they were speeding through the dark night to the loft. No words were spoken as he parked and led her inside. The second he locked the big door Celinda was in his arms, winding herself tightly around him. Harm picked her up and she wrapped her long legs around his waist as he walked to the bedroom.

Standing beside the bed, he kissed her hard, relishing her ardent response. He couldn't get enough of the way she tasted and felt. His head swam with the need to bury himself deep in her body and never come back out. Sliding his hands up her back, he found the zipper of her dress and slowly pulled it down, the sound loud in the stillness of the room. With a gentle shrug of her shoulders, the dress fell to her waist, leaving her upper body bare to his hungry gaze.

"You look like a goddess," he whispered hoarsely.

His hands folded over her breasts, kneading them gently. Celinda moaned low in her throat and reached for his shirt. He took his hands away from her cool flesh only long enough to strip the offending garment away. He lowered his head and traced circles around her nipple with his tongue. She wove her fingers through his hair and held him against her. With unsteady hands, Harm pushed her dress from her hips and it fell to the floor, leaving her clad only in a tiny black thong and her stilettos. Picking her up, he placed her in the center of the bed and lowered himself to her side.

Placing her hands against his chest, Celinda pushed him onto his back and moved over him sinuously. Even in the faded patch of moonlight shining from the bathroom through the glass wall, he could see the startlingly glow of her eyes. He rose up slightly to kiss her but Celinda ducked her head out of his reach and pushed him back down.

"Relax," she whispered. "Let me show you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."

"If I felt any better, I'd die," he groaned as her hands went to the zipper of his pants.

"What I'll show you is beyond death, my darling, beyond life. There will only be desire and hunger to feed."

"Then let me feed on you," Harm growled.

Blood rushed through him in a wild froth, exciting him to a panicked frenzy. Celinda was close by, urging him to drink his fill. What started as screaming changed to a low, dying moan. The images swam together, blurring. Celinda's eyes were glowing, her smile feral. Voices whispered around him and power surged through his body, filling him with pleasure. He was greedy for more. The lifeless body in his arms was ripped away and he searched the dark room for another to take its place. One waited mere feet away. Celinda had prepared for his fledgling need. Prepared to help it and him grow with his newfound skills. He could hear the blood pulsing, smell the sweetness of it on his skin…

Harm awoke with a harsh shout, sitting straight up in bed, his heart pounding so hard it stole his breath. For a second he sat frozen, numb with fear and something else he couldn't grasp. Very slowly, the room around him came into focus. He was at home, in his own bed. He rubbed shaking hands over his sweat-soaked hair, trying to calm his erratic breathing. He turned to look at the clock behind him on the stand and swore.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" he whispered to the empty room. "No more visits to that nightclub or any other club for that matter," he muttered.

Then a wave of guilt swamped him as the memories of the night before came back. Celinda had been with him when he fell asleep. He didn't remember her leaving but he'd been exhausted after their night together. Even as the guilt was trying to get a toehold in his conscience, the memories of her against him, gained an even tighter grasp. The pleasure he found in her body had been unlike anything he'd ever known. Beyond the physical. He recalled her saying something about showing him pleasure beyond life and death. She'd certainly done that. Strangely, he didn't feel tired or worn out now, even after sleeping the day away. He felt…he moved around experimentally…he felt rejuvenated. Maybe the sleep had been what he needed after weeks of working hard.

Slowly, Harm climbed out of bed and walked out to the living room, not bothering to turn on the lights or cover his naked body. The details of the night before were sketchy at best. All he could remember was the feeling of Celinda's body and her voice whispering words he didn't understand. Something foreign. As much as his senses remembered the exquisite desire, his mind was troubled over his lack of memory and the hours after hours of sleeping. Behavior completely alien to him and not something he really wanted to repeat. It was almost as if he'd been drugged but he hadn't consumed anything at the club except Celinda's kisses.

The one thing he couldn't order his mind to shove away was feeling that he betrayed Mac. She could never know about his time with Celinda. They were in the beginning stages of rebuilding their relationship. After all that had happened in recent months with Bud losing his leg and the war and numerous other things, this was something he didn't need coming between them. Instead he would tuck away the memories of the weekend and Celinda's incredible presence and make the secret his very own.

"Hey, squid, you got a minute?"

Harm smiled without looking up and nodded.

Mac walked the rest of the way into his office and closed the door behind her. Sitting across from him, she crossed her legs and then her hands, then uncrossed everything and leaned forward, resting her arms on the edge of his desk.

"Are you okay?"

Harm's gaze rose swiftly to hers. "What do you mean?"

Mac eyed him steadily. "You don't look well. I thought you looked a little peaked Monday but it seems to be getting worse. Are you coming down with something? Or not sleeping well?"

He shook his head and went back to the report his was writing. "Nah, I'm fine. I'm reading a really good book and I've been staying up too late trying to finish it. It's just one of those that kills you to put it down," he grinned, still looking down.

And he prayed desperately that she wouldn't see through his lie. Truth was, he wasn't sleeping well. He wasn't sleeping at all. Nightmares in the same vein as the one he had on Sunday were plaguing him. They were growing worse and even at times during the day, he could swear he heard Celinda's voice. Sometimes it was the smell of her perfume or the scent that filled the air during their lovemaking. It was driving him insane as he tried so desperately to forget about last weekend. And now Mac was questioning him right after the Admiral, who had cornered him first thing that morning.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly.

He forced himself to look up and meet her eyes without flinching. "I'm sure. Everything is fine… I'm fine," he insisted. "I just need to get my butt to bed."

Her expression cleared a little and his answer seemed to mollify her…at least for now. "Well, okay. I was a little worried. If there were anything… you'd tell me, right?" she asked.

Harm reached across the desk and touched her hand, noting that it was cold beneath his larger one. "Yes, I would tell you," he promised.

She smiled softly and squeezed his hand in return. "Okay. I'll get out of your hair."

Once she was gone, Harm allowed himself a quick sigh of relief. Hiding things from her was never easy and this was by far the biggest secret he'd ever kept. Throwing down his pen in disgust, he turned and looked out at the blue sky. He had to shake whatever was holding him. The visions he kept seeing were horrifying and his unease grew as the days passed. It wasn't just the lack of sleep either. The nightmares plaguing him were filled with grotesque, bloody images of himself, of Celinda, of people he didn't know or recognize in places that were foreign. He hated to admit even to himself that they made him afraid. Each time he awoke, heart pounding and short of breath, he was afraid of the shadows. Knowing there was nothing in the apartment but him, he was still afraid. He felt something there, something just beyond grasp or reason. An unseen force that seemed to hover, waiting to reach for him. And each time he would go back to sleep and the nightmares would begin again, with memories to remind him of holding Celinda and touching her silken curves. Of her blood red lips and ivory skin. Of her cool touch on his fevered flesh and the whispered words of an unknown language. Desires would flood and disturb his senses. Then the fear would come on its heels. Blowing into the recesses of his mind and subconscious like the fires of Hell. And Celinda's beauty would grow even as the blood dripped from her hands and mouth. Even as it dripped from his own.

Rousing himself, Harm forced the thoughts to the back of his mind. If he could just lock it away and keep it there… maybe. It would not win over him…at least not right now.

The nightmares were strong than ever. Blood flowed in a wild, raging river. There were others this time, waiting for him to make the first kill before they pounced on the unwilling victim. There were volunteers, too, looking for something only Celinda's nature could give them. Waiting to see if they were worthy of the gift and if not… Celinda was with him, her body flowing against the harder lines of his own, stirring his senses with desire and hunger. He was desperate to have her, his mouth punishing as he drank deeply from her mouth.

The scene changed and suddenly they were in his bedroom. Her naked body moved sinuously over his, pulling the blankets away until they were skin to skin. The sweet, heady scent of her filled the air, her lips full and moist as she touched them to his face and then his mouth, kissing him tenderly. Her fingers were cool, brushing his fevered skin, stroking the flames higher and higher. Harm grasped her arms and tried to roll her over but she resisted, pushing him back against the pillows.

"Let me love you," she whispered. "Let me share myself with you and show you all that could be yours. I'll take you beyond your wildest dreams."

"I want to be inside you," he whispered hoarsely.

"You will be," she promised huskily. "And I will be inside you, my love."

Her mouth moved over his face then down to his chest. The tip of her tongue flicked at the strong column of his throat. Fire seared his nerve endings and he gripped her arms tightly, holding her close. Her hands smoothed over his skin, holding him to the bed. Her legs shifted and she rose slightly. Then he was encased in her velvet heat. She surrounded his aching body, pushing him higher and farther than he'd ever been.

"It's going to be so good," she murmured, her voice circling him. "You'll be with me forever."

As she moved over him, he gripped her hips, urging her to increase her pace but she resisted and reached for his hands. Holding them above his head, she stretched her upper body along the length of his. He gasped at the contact of her softness. He breathed hard, trying to control the raging maelstrom trapped beneath his skin. Her mouth moved up and down his throat, over to his shoulder and then back to his throat. He felt himself climbing higher and higher, reaching for a Heaven only she could deliver. She moved a bit faster, her mouth pressed against the base of his neck, her tongue drawing circles against his skin. All of his attention was focused on the sensuous dance of her hips against him. She drew him in deeper and deeper while bringing him closer to the edge of the cliff. His fingers linked with hers against the pillows, holding her stretched out against him. She moved once… twice… and then it was upon him. A river of sensation flooded between them as she brought him to a shattering climax. Black spots swam behind his closed lids and for an instant his heart stopped from the force of the feelings, overshadowing even the pain at his throat where she bit him the throes of her own passion.

Harm came awake so suddenly from the nightmare that he jumped straight out of bed, standing at the side, chest heaving, body covered in sweat. He looked around the dark room with unseeing eyes, searching for Celinda, sure she was there somewhere. With a start, he turned and flipped on the bedside lamp, heart thumping madly as he swung to look around the room. Her scent filled the air around him, as did the scent of sex. A shudder ripped through him and his legs gave out so suddenly that he didn't even realize it until he was crumpled on the floor. Shaking his head to clear the spots in front of his eyes, Harm grabbed the side of the bed and hauled himself back to his feet. Sweat ran down his chest and dropped onto his arm as he rose to his full height. He moved to swipe at his wet body and froze when he saw the blood. The drops on his arm matched the rivulets running down his chest.

Weaving and trying to stay on his feet, he turned and went to the shower, turning the water on as hot as he could stand it. He climbed in and stood beneath the stinging spray. In the darkness of the bathroom, he couldn't see the blood but he felt the sting of the hot water against the broken skin at his neck. Harm grabbed the soap and lathered his body, scrubbing furiously as if to rid himself of all traces of the nightmares. When the water turned cold, he wrapped a towel around his wet body and went back to the bed, crawling under the covers and wrapping them tightly around him. Leaving the lamp on, he instantly fell asleep.

Sometime later, Harm woke in terrible pain. The light by the bed was out but he didn't recall turning it off. Shivers racked his tall form and he ached everywhere. Slowly, agonizingly, he pulled himself out of bed and went to the chest at the foot to pull out more blankets. Piling them on the bed, he crawled back in. Harm reached for the phone on the stand, dropping it twice before he could get it to the bed. He couldn't lift his head off the pillow so he just dialed the Admiral's number and held the phone close to his exposed ear.

"Whoever's calling this early in the morning better have a damn good reason."

"Admiral?" he croaked.

"Rabb? What's wrong?" A.J. demanded, instantly sounding alert.

"I'm really…sick. Don't think I can…come in," Harm muttered.

"You sound like you're dying. Do you need some help? Maybe you should go to the hospital," A.J. returned, not at all liking the way the younger man sounded.

"I think it's… jus' the flu. Chills and aches," Harm explained, trying to make the words come out right.

"If you're sure," A.J. muttered, sounding unconvinced. "If it gets any worse you call Mac or myself and one of us will come take you to the hospital. You don't sound good at all, Harm."

"Jus' need to sleep," Harm answered, slurring the words a little.

"You do that. I'll send the Colonel to check on you later."

"'kay," Harm answered, already moving to turn the phone off.

It fell to the floor from his limp grasp as sleep overtook him.

Late that afternoon, Mac let herself into the loft and put her purse on the table. She went straight to the bedroom where she could see Harm sprawled across the bed. He was deep in sleep as she moved to the side. Tenderly, she stroked her hand over his head and gasped, snatching her it back. He was burning with fever. Going back to the kitchen, she searched the cabinet next to the sink for something to give him. Armed with a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water, she went back to the room.

"Harm?" she called softly, smoothing her hand over his head. "Harm, it’s Mac."

He moaned softly but didn’t move. Carefully, Mac grasped the arm farthest from her and gently rolled him to his back.

"Harm, I brought you something to take. I promise I’ll let you go right back to sleep," she murmured soothingly, touching his face.

He moaned again and shifted, his lashes fluttering. His hand moved, almost as if he were reaching for her.

"Mac?" he mumbled.

"I’m here," she answered, wondering if he was dreaming since he never opened his eyes.

Getting two of the pills out, she slid one arm beneath his neck and head and propped him up. Pressing the tip of her index finger against his mouth, she nudged his lips apart until she could push the Tylenol in. Holding the glass of water up next, she quietly urged him to swallow the pills.

Releasing a deep breath, she eased him back against the pillows. His temperature had to be well over one hundred. Rising, she kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse to get comfortable. In the bathroom, she turned on the shower and collected two of his large bath towels. Soaking them in tepid water and wringing them as best as she could, she carried them back to the bed and carefully draped his body from neck to ankle.

For the next couple of hours, Mac worked steadily over him, trying to bring down the fever. She tried to get some orange juice down but he was so unresponsive that she couldn't get him to drink. As the day burned away into night, she grew more worried about his condition. Mumbling from him drew her attention and she rose from the chair she was in across the room. Sitting down beside him, she smoothed her hand over his face and head.

"You're all right," she whispered softly. "I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you."

She couldn't make out anything he was saying but one soft utterance reached her clearly: Celinda. The way he said the name held such longing that Mac's breath caught. It was the first she'd ever heard him speak the name. Immediately she reminded herself not to jump to conclusions. It was unusual name and didn't necessarily have to be that of a woman. She picked up the phone and punched in the Admiral's number.

"It's Mac," she said when he answered.

"How's he doing?" A.J. asked.

"I'm going to call for an ambulance. His fever is getting higher and he's starting to rant. I can't get him conscious enough to get anything down him, even some medicine. I'm worried if I wait it'll just get worse," she explained.

"Do what you feel is best, Colonel," A.J. directed. "Call me as soon as you have some news or if you need me to come down there."

"Yes, sir," she murmured.

Within minutes there an ambulance on the way. Mac quickly put Harm in a pair of boxers and packed some necessities for him. She followed the ambulance so she'd have her car, praying the whole they wouldn't find anything seriously wrong with her beloved partner.

The wait after they took him to the ER was endless. The hospital was full and there was no telling when they would know something to report to her so she busied herself with the paperwork the admissions desk gave her and settled down to wait.

"Colonel MacKenzie?"

Mac's head snapped up from the doze she in when she heard her name. She jumped up from the chair, finding the smiling nurse who'd called her.

"I'm Colonel MacKenzie," she answered.

"If you'll come with me? I'll take you to see Commander Rabb and the doctor will talk to you."

Mac followed her through a set of doors and around a maze of cubicles and emergency personnel to a curtained off area where Harm lay attacked to a variety of machines.

"Oh, Harm," Mac whispered to herself, stunned by how pale and gaunt he appeared under the harsh glare of overhead lights.

"Colonel MacKenzie?" The new voice belonged to a man.

"Are you his doctor?" she asked, turning to the older man.

"I am," he confirmed, holding out his hand. "Dr. James."

"How is he?" she asked, shaking his hand.

The doctor's warm brown eyes slid over Harm's prone form. "I understand from his paperwork that the two of you work for JAG? Are you active in investigations?" he asked.

Mac frowned. "What does that have to do with how he's doing? What's wrong?" she demanded, growing suspicious.

"Sarah," he said, leaning forward slightly to pin her with a direct look. "It appears that he has been poisoned. I asked if you were active in investigations so you could tell me if he's been around anything that might have caused this."

Mac shook her head slowly, stunned by his announcement. "No, we've been in the office for the past few weeks in court. Harm didn't look like he was feeling well at the beginning of the week but he said he was just tired. What kind of poison is it?" she asked, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Dr. James shook his head. "I don't know yet. His blood sample is still being tested in our labs. He's stable for now and I've got him on fluids but until I know exactly what we're dealing with, I can't give him any medication. We're moving him to intensive care where he can be closely monitored. Septicemia is extremely dangerous and fast moving. If we don't have test results within the hour, I'm going to start him on an aggressive regime of antibiotics and oxygen saturation to keep his blood pressure up. We're also testing for other forms of infection like meningitis. I'm afraid I won't be able to let you stay with him but you can visit for ten minutes every hour. You'll have to be gowned and wear gloves and a mask before you go in."

Mac's breath rushed out in a whoosh and she sat for one endless minute just staring at the doctor. "I can't believe this," she whispered. "He was in the office yesterday and he looked just fine. I can't believe he could get this sick in one day."

"Be grateful he's not dead," Dr. James answered bluntly. "You did the right thing by bringing him in when you did. Waiting another night might very well have killed him."

After warning her not to touch Harm, Dr. James left and Mac turned to the man on the bed. Standing, she leaned over and put her lips close to his ear.

"Somewhere deep inside I hope you can hear me," she whispered. "You'll be fine," she whispered tenderly. "I love you, Harm. Remember that."

The fog and uncertainty of the visions cleared and Celinda was standing in front of him. Her beautiful face held a loving expression and she extended a hand to him.

"It's time," she stated softly. "You're better now, stronger. It's time for you to come to me, Harm. We'll be together forever, my love."

There was a tiny drop of red at the corner of her full lips. The tip of her tongue snaked out to catch it and she smiled. She waved her hand, motioning for him to come to her. The room behind her was dark but there… there in the stillness, others were waiting. The heat in Celinda's eyes belied the frigidness of the room and he smiled. He felt good… no, he felt great, powerful even. Maybe it was the love in Celinda's eyes that blazed through him, giving him strength. She had promised passion beyond his wildest dreams. Desire flooded past all barriers when he looked into her silvery eyes.

"Stand at my side, Harmon. It's your place," she whispered invitingly.

Mac followed the ICU nurse to Harm's room, listening to her instructions about not trying to touch him inside the plastic surrounding his bed. She also told them not to be alarmed by his appearance as Dr. James had him on several IV lines to combat the illness.

"What about the blood tests?" she asked her.

"It would be best if you talked to Dr. James. I'll page him while you're in with Commander Rabb so you can go over your questions with him afterward."

She pushed open the door to Harm's room and moved aside, allowing Mac to enter.

"Where is he?" Mac asked, her eyes falling to the empty bed.

"What do you mean? He's…" The nurse stopped dead when she, too, saw the empty bed. "Let me call Dr. James immediately."

Within minutes, half the hospital was in chaos over Harm's disappearance. Security was searching the premises looking for him and Mac was pacing the ICU lobby.

"Colonel MacKenzie?" She turned and saw a grave looking Dr. James. "You better come with me. I have something to show you."

She followed him to small office where two security guards waited. Dr. James nodded and one of them pushed a button of a TV. A security camera of the hospital's main entrance came into view. There was very little foot traffic but they clearly saw Harm, in the clothes Mac brought for him, walk out, unaided. And he didn't look the least bit sick, at least nowhere near the shape he'd been in when Mac last saw him.

"This is all a nightmare," Mac whispered. "Any minute now I'm going to wake up and be in my own bed."

"I wish that were the case," Dr. James replied. "What do you want to do? Call the police?"

"I'll do it myself," Mac answered. "He could be wandering the streets but if he was as sick as you say, I want to know how he managed to leave. Didn't anyone at the ICU desk notice him? Or that he was gone from his bed?" she demanded.

Dr. James shook his head. "You can bet I'll find out, Colonel. When he unhooked his monitors it should have immediately notified the desk. If you'll give me a number where I can reach you later, I'll let you know what I find out," he promised.

"You do that," she warned.

Minutes later she was on the road.

By the time Mac got inside the loft and checked to make sure Harm wasn't there, it was nearing 0300. Exhausted, she sank down on the couch, rubbing her burning eyes. A million thoughts were racing through her mind. She was terrified to even entertain the possibility that Harm could be lying in a gutter somewhere dead. He just had to be all right. Leaning over against the arm of the couch, she closed her eyes, intent on recharging for a few minutes. Instead, she was sound asleep in seconds.

Despite the late hour, Blood Red was filled to capacity. He had no trouble getting through the front doors. Unerringly, he worked his way through the crowds to the back of the club where a closed door waited. It opened to a dark stairwell then a long, equally dark hall. It was cold in the passageway, the air heavy with the scent of decay. He found his way without the aid of his eyes to another door. It opened and Celinda was there.

Harm seemed to come out of the daze he was in when he gaze fell on the blonde woman. Horrified, he took in the scene before him. Celinda was standing in the middle of the old cellar, the lifeless body of a club visitor clutched in her arms. Her silvery eyes narrowed in on Harm, her smile feral. Blood dribbled down her chin from the corner of her mouth and the woman she held, a harsh shudder ripped through Harm… the woman Celinda held had blood all over her upper body.

Harm took a step back, his mouth working soundlessly as he tried to force himself to look away. The scene was surreal, surely he was dreaming. It was just another nightmare like all the others and any minute he would wake up.

"Harm…" Celinda called his name softly. "I've been waiting for you. It's time."

Harm couldn't comprehend what she was saying. He tried to take another step back and the door closed behind him, effectively trapping him in the room. Then the air began to change. The sweet, metallic scent of blood drifted to him, filling his senses. Staring at the bright red that contrasted so starkly with Celinda's white skin, he took a hesitant step forward. Slowly, everything fell away but Celinda. He watched her toss the body aside and she faced him fully. With a dreamy expression on her face, she rubbed a finger across her chin to wipe away the blood. Drawing it to her mouth, she licked it off, her eyes never leaving his. Harm's gaze was riveted to her movements. Desire exploded in his whole body, rushing through his veins and leaving a euphoric feeling. He walked closer to Celinda, drawn by the look in her eyes. Elation filled him. Celinda belonged to him. Her desire stretched across the remaining feet, mingling with the strength of his. Closer and closer to her he went. The delicate scent of her perfume mingled with that of the blood. Celinda touched his face tenderly. Wrapping her hand around the nape of his neck, she drew his head down.

Harm kissed her roughly, knowing he would never get enough of her soft mouth. They slowly dropped to the stone floor and Celinda shifted slightly above him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. They kissed over and over as Harm's hands roamed over her supple skin. Celinda trailed her mouth over his chin and along his jaw to his neck. Feeling the low moan in his throat, she smiled against his warm skin. His clutched her tightly, almost punishing. Her smile grew and her eyes blazed. Her tongue made small, rapid circles on his skin, driving him to the brink of insanity with desire.

Then pain such as he'd never know mixed with the purest feeling of pleasure, nearly rent him in half. Light and dark exploded behind his closed eyes. Agony paralyzed his vocal chords and he could only lay still in her grasp. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, his heart felt as if it would burst from his chest. It was over just as quickly and Celinda lifted her head. Shifting, she propped one leg up behind him, keeping him close to her. Blood ran from the wound in his neck but Harm was too weak to lift his hand to it.

"It's time, my love. "

Her eyes never leaving his, she withdrew a tiny dagger from somewhere and held it to the soft inner flesh of her left arm. She drew it across two inches and blood formed in drops. The smell reached his nostrils and hunger ripped through him. Pain battered his body, leaving weakness in its place. Celinda cupped the back of his head in her other hand and unerringly, Harm's mouth found the fresh cut. As fast as the pain had come from his neck, it washed away in a blaze of light and sound. Joy greater than any he'd known filled his body. Celinda held him close as he fed, quenching the terrible hunger that drove him on. Power surged through his body. Strength flowed into his limbs. He shifted, bending over Celinda, dominating her, feeding greedily on her soft body. Gently, she pulled his mouth away from her. He tried to bring it back to his mouth but she resisted him.

"That's enough," she whispered. "We must rest now. Rest, darling, rest," she whispered, smoothing his hair as she lay back against the floor, drawing him with her. "Rest and when we awake, there will be more."

Almost twenty-four hours had passed and there was still no sign of Harm. In all the confusion and haste, she’d totally forgotten about calling the Admiral. Anxious and worried out of her mind, Mac refused to leave the loft in case he might call or come home. Now she lay on the couch, fighting sleep but afraid to give in for fear she would wake up and another night would be past.

Harm unlocked the door, slipped in and locked it behind him. Turning, he stopped short when he saw Mac on the couch. For a moment he just looked at her. She really was so beautiful…

"Harm?"

Her sleepy voice reached past his thoughts and he smiled. Realization hit Mac as she came out of her light doze.

"Oh my, God! Harm!"

She was off the couch and in his arms in a flash. Laughing, Harm held her close, savoring the feel of her soft body against him, feeling the same stirring of desire he always felt when she was near. She pulled back slightly and ran her hands over his shoulders, chest and arms, as if checking to see that he was truly standing there.

"I was so worried about you," she cried. "Where have you been? I was going to…" her voice trailed off as she got a closer look at him.

Tenderly, her eyes traced his face. There wasn’t a hint of the sickness that seemed ready to kill him the night before. Now he was smiling and looked... he looked more handsome than ever before. She shook her head slightly, sure it was just because she was so glad to see him. It was Harm standing before her and he looked just like he always had. Except… she stepped closer and raised a hesitant hand to his face. He seemed to be almost… abnormally attractive. If he were a woman he would have been glowing. She shook her head and laughed at herself.

"What is it?" Harm asked, smiling, his eyes roaming over her face and tousled hair.

"Nothing, I guess. You just look… so good," she answered, wondering why she felt breathless all of a sudden.

He chuckled and the sound made a sensuous glide over nerves. "Gee, thanks."

She smiled. "It’s just that you were so sick yesterday. Why did you leave the hospital? Where did you…" her voice trailed off when she caught the look in his eyes.

"Where did I what?" he murmured, reached up to brush a strand of her hair back.

His hand trailed down the soft skin of her cheek and his thumb pressed gently against her lips. Mac’s breath lodged in her throat and her heartbeat went wild. He was looking at her like she was a feast and he hadn’t eaten in days.

"Harm…"

Cupping her face in his hands, he silenced her with his mouth. He brushed her lips softly, over and over, bringing her senses to life. Seductively, he traced the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, urging her to open for him. When she did, the kiss changed and his arms went around her tightly, pressing her against the length of him. Turning, he put her back to the door and levered his weight against her, kissing her hungrily. Mac wrapped her arms around his shoulders and met him kiss for kiss. So glad to see him alive and safe that she didn’t care about the events of the past day and night. His touch grew more urgent, his hands almost hurtful as they roamed over her arms, her hips and finally to her breasts. Mac tore her mouth from his to draw in a breath, her head tilted back against the door. Harm hungrily kissed his way down her throat to her collarbone, pushing the neckline of her shirt aside so he could reach more of her satiny skin.

Desire blasted through his entire body. Harm felt the furious pounding of her heart against his chest, felt her rapid pulse under his lips, heard the blood sluice through her veins faster and faster as her excitement mounted. Remembrance of the sweet taste flooded his mind. Mac moaned softly as he drew a pattern on her skin with his tongue. Her hands rose to clutch his head, holding him to her. His place at Celinda’s side would only be complete when he took the next step. He had a beautiful, desirable woman in his arms giving herself willingly to him. It would be so easy…

Harm slid his hands down her back to cup her bottom and lifted her up, fitting her to the cradle of his body. Holding her tight, he turned them both and started for the bedroom. Mac clung tightly to him and returned his kisses, feeling her senses spin wildly out of control. As unexpected as this was, it was welcome. She'd waited so long to be in his arms like this, to be against him and able to look and touch freely.

Next to the bed, Harm let her slide slowly down until her feet touched the ground. He widened the stance of his legs enough to pull her into his body, letting her feel the evidence of his desire for her. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once and he kissed her until she couldn't breath, almost as if this was the only taste of her he'd ever have. Straining up on her toes, Mac cradled his head in her hands and gave herself over to the feel of his mouth.

Harm slowly allowed himself to slide away from her moist lips. Seductively, he pressed his mouth against the satiny skin of her throat, intensifying the pleasure and allowing her to feel the movement to the fullest. He moved along one slow kiss at a time until he reached the hollow at the base of her throat. Mac moaned softly as he stroked her wildly beating pulse with his tongue. The enticing beat of her heart called to him like a siren’s song. He would just take a taste…to see if would be as sweet as he hoped.

"Ouch! Harm!" Mac’s cry broke straight through the trance he was in and he allowed her to push him away. "That hurt!" she cried, her hand going to the broken skin at her neck.

Eyes glazed with passion, he didn't answer but instead grasped her arms and drew her back to him, kissing her to silence her protests. For a moment, Mac wavered. He must have just bitten her in the throes of passion. Then she gave in and kissed him back. His hands were all over her, almost bruising on her soft skin. She tried to pull her head away to catch her breath but he pushed his weight against her, pinning her against the door.

"Harm," she gasped, against his mouth, pushing at his chest. He didn’t give any indication that he heard her. "Harm, you’re hurting me. Slow down," she mumbled, trying to turn her head.

His mouth moved to the place he’d bitten earlier and she felt a slight sting as his tongue traced the ragged spot. The heady taste of her blood exploded on Harm’s tongue. He felt the change immediately. Felt the surge of power making him stronger, making him better. Ravenous desire pounded through him. The need to consume and become whole.

All of a sudden he bit down hard and Mac cried out. Stabbing pain slashed through her body. His hands held her wrists in a painful grip that she couldn’t break as she struggled against him. Fear gripped her and she brought her foot down hard on his. He grunted but his hold didn’t loosen. Blackness swam around her and she felt a trembling start deep in her body, leaving a rush of weakness in its wake. Trying the only thing left, she brought her knee up hard into his groin. He released her instantly and he stumbled backward, doubling over slightly to catch his breath. His head snapped up and Mac screamed in terror. The sound seemed to finally bring him back to his senses.

"Oh, God, what was I…" he froze when he saw the blood running down her neck. "Mac! I’m so sorry," he babbled. "I don’t know what…" he stopped talking abruptly. "What?" he demanded. "Why are you looking at me that way? I just got…"

Mac’s eyes were riveted on him. "Your face…" she whispered, horrified. "What are you doing, Harm? Is this some kind of sick joke?" she demanded.

"My face?" he parroted. "What’s wrong with my face…?" he asked, almost to himself, afraid he already knew what he’d find.

His ran his hands hesitantly over his own features, feeling the uneven angles, the sharpness around his eyes. Feeling around gingerly with his tongue, he felt the much longer length of his eyeteeth and knew with horrifying clarity what Mac was looking at. He ran past her to the bathroom and snapped on the light so he could look in the mirror. What he saw looking back at him defied description. He didn’t look like him anymore…he looked like a monster.

Mac could see him from her position in the room and for the space of several heartbeats, she stood rooted to the spot. Whirling, she ran for the front door. She yanked it open and was about to go through then slammed it shut instead and pressed her back to it. She stood, chest heaving as her eyes darted frantically around the room. Spying her purse, she ran to get it and dug out her compact. Angling the small mirror, she looked at her neck. Two deep gouges were in the curve where her neck and shoulder met. Blood seeped from them, running into the two rivulets that slid over her collarbone and disappeared onto her shirt.

"Mac."

She spun around at the sound of his voice. He came out of the bedroom on unsteady feet, moving toward her. Mac snatched up her purse and upended it. She grabbed the small pistol she carried for safety and aimed it at Harm.

"Please…" he entreated, stopping and holding up his hands. "I won’t hurt you. I won’t even touch you again."

Mac stayed right where she was, one hand pressed against her neck, the other pointing the gun. "You stay away from me," she ordered shakily.

"I won’t hurt you," he repeated. "God, I’m so sorry, I don't understand what's happening to me," he whispered harshly.

He stumbled to the couch and sank down, cradling his head in his hands. "Everything in my head is one big jumble." When he raised his head to look at her again, the changes to his face were gone. "I've been having terrible nightmares since last weekend. I met… I met a woman," he admitted. "I think she's somehow responsible for this."

"Is it Celinda?" Mac asked, feeling the stirrings of betrayal in her stomach.

"How do you know about her?" he questioned sharply.

"You called for her when I was trying to get your fever down," she answered softly.

"I'll try to explain everything to you. I'm having a hard time straightening it all out in my own head," he sighed. "You can sit down."

Mac looked between him and the chair but instead moved back until she was against the door. "I think I'll stay here," she returned gently, starting to feel calmer.

"Can't say I blame you. Last weekend I acted on an impulse and stopped at the new nightclub up the street. Have you seen it? It's called Blood Red." She shook her head at his question. "I was at loose ends and just drove over Friday. After they let me in, I started to wonder if it was really a place for me. It was packed and I noticed many of the people there were dressed in black. It reminded me of one of those gothic places and the stamp they put on my hand was sick. It was a mouth with vampire teeth and a drop of blood hanging from one point. That's when Celinda found me. I have to tell you, Mac, it was odd right from the start. I felt like…" he stopped and shoved a hand through his hair. "I don't want to hurt you more by telling you this," he muttered angrily.

"You don’t have a choice, Harm. I have to know everything if I have any hope of helping you," she stated calmly.

He nodded. "It felt like I was being moved along. The first and only thing I could think of when I looked at Celinda was how beautiful she was. We talked for maybe two minutes and then she wanted to dance. Once we were on the floor she was all over me. Sarah," he surged to his feet and took two steps toward her then halted when she shrank against the door. "Sarah, I don't expect you to believe what I'm telling you, but I swear to God I would never betray you with another woman. From the minute she started touching me, it was like I couldn’t stop myself. I've never felt that kind of overwhelming desire in my life. I tried to pull away once and it didn't take her two seconds to have me back in her grasp. Everything about this place seemed to make my head spin. The music was something I don’t even know how to classify – something without words that sounded almost like it would lull you into a trance and the air in the club smelled sweet, not like what you generally find in a club."

Slowly, he turned and sat back down so she wouldn't feel crowded. Her eyes were faintly accusing but she didn't say anything as he talked.

"It gets worse. I woke up at dinnertime the next day. I don't even remember leaving the club, just that I came home around dawn and went to bed. I only remember being on the dance floor…ah, being too close to Celinda," he mumbled, wishing mightily that he didn't have to reveal those details. "When I woke up I was in a very deep sleep and I felt almost drugged, the way I might have with a hangover but I didn't have a drop of alcohol at the club." He stopped again and buried his face in his hands.

Mac waited for a minute, studying him and willing her heart not to break over what he was telling her. "Keep going," she urged.

"I went back Saturday night and felt the same way, like I was stepping into someone else's body. The music was the same and the smell in the air. Celinda talked like she was luring me in."

He squeezed his eyes shut and silently prayed for strength. Mac knew instinctively that what he was about to say was going to hit her hard.

"I brought her back here and we spent the night together."

The words were a crushing blow and one silent tear slipped down Mac's cheek before she could stop it. Lips flattened into a thin line, she stared resolutely at the floor in front of Harm. He rose from the couch again and came toward her, not stopping this time until they stood toe-to-toe.

"Look at me," he ordered gently. When she refused, he cupped her chin and forced her head up. "I know nothing I can say will erase what happen but you have to believe what I'm telling you. As farfetched as it sounds, it's the truth. You know I wouldn't like to you about something this serious. I love you, Mac. I love you more than anything else in this world and I would never hurt you this way. I swear I don't know what came over me."

Mac met his steady gaze and saw the truth blazing in the depths of his eyes. "Tell me the rest," she whispered.

Releasing her, he braced his hands against the door on either side of her head, caging her in his warmth. "I don't remember what happened after or her leaving. The first nightmare woke me up Sunday evening. It made no sense at the time and it was more like disjointed pictures than a dream. Celinda was there and some other people I didn't recognize and… and I was there with blood on me. There was blood everywhere and I could hear screams even as Celinda was urging me on. The second I woke up I felt the stronger sense of fear I've ever experienced. The nightmare seemed so utterly real that it took me several minutes to realize I was in my bed alone. After that I believed she might have somehow drugged me and I was determined to forget the whole thing ever happened. But the nightmares kept coming. During the day I would have flashes in my head and I could hear her voice all the time. She talked about feeding hunger and desire I couldn't fight."

"You lied to me when I asked if you were all right."

He nodded, his eyes still on hers. "I couldn't tell you what happened and at that point I still believed it would go away. That night was the worst. The nightmares kept coming. The same thing over and over with blood and dead bodies everywhere. Even at the time, I think I could see that Celinda was a vampire but maybe my conscious mind wouldn't allow the thought. That first nightmare changed and I dreamed that Celinda was there. We were having sex and I remember thinking it was more than I could stand but she kept urging me on. The pleasure was so intense when I came that I didn't even feel her biting me. I woke up so suddenly that I jumped straight out of bed. If we were talking about anything else I'd find that funny but there was nothing funny about how afraid I felt. And I believed it was, in fact, a dream until I saw blood on my chest. It was coming from a bite on my neck. I got in the shower then went back to bed. When I woke up later, I was in so much pain I couldn't even lift my head off the pillow. That's when I called the Admiral to tell him I was too sick to come in later that morning."

"Could Celinda have gotten into the loft without you hearing her?" Mac asked.

Harm shook his head. "I don't know. I was in a deep sleep but I don't see how she could have. Was the door locked when you got here?"

"Both locks. It would have been damned hard for her to get in without a key."

"I would swear she wasn't here. I'm telling you I woke up in the throes of desire. If she had been here she couldn't have disappeared that fast."

"Do you remember me being here with you at all?"

"No. After calling the Admiral I don't remember anything else until I saw Celinda. She said it was time for me to come to her. I got up from the bed and felt better than I had in years. I left the hospital and headed back to the club. I went down into the basement like I'd been there a million times. It was old and smelled like decay. I found Celinda in a room and she was…" he broke off abruptly and closed his eyes, his breathing labored. "When I think about it now, I'm horrified beyond belief. When it was happening, all I could think about was being a part of it."

"What happened?" Mac prompted.

"Celinda was standing in the middle of the room holding a dead body. There was blood on her mouth and all over the person she was holding. At first I thought I was dreaming again. Then I started to feel different somehow, like something was taking over. I could smell her perfume and the blood and her desire for me. I felt elated, like I was about to do something special. I went to her and we started kissing. We laid down right there on the stone floor and then she bit me. The pain was so intense I couldn't breathe. I can only guess that's what dying feels like. Then she cut open a place on her arm and held it to my mouth. When I started to taste her blood, the pain vanished. It felt like I was in Heaven." He shook his head and laughed mockingly. "This sounds totally absurd. It makes me cringe to even hear myself say it."

"It is a lot to take in," Mac admitted quietly. "Harm, do you realize what you’re telling me? What all of this sounds like?"

His eyes met hers. "Yeah, it sounds something along the lines of I’m a vampire."

She stared hard at him. "This can’t be happening," she mumbled. "This is a terrible nightmare and I’m going to wake up any minute to find us both still at the hospital. This can’t be real. I refuse to even think…" she closed her mouth with a snap and shook her head decisively. "This is not real," she stated firmly. "I’m seeing things because I’m exhausted. My mind is playing tricks on me because I’m stressed and worried. I'm…" For several long minutes, she simply stared at him. "Vampires aren't real," she murmured finally.

"So Hollywood would lead us to believe but it doesn't look that way now, does it?" he asked hollowly.

"Where does that leave us?" she asked.

Harm dropped his hands and took a step back. "You kill me."

"What?!" Mac's head snapped up and she pinned him with a furious look. "Jackass."

He returned her glare. "That wasn’t a joke. What else are you going to do? Have you ever once heard reference to a cure for this? Whether it was in books or movies?"

"That’s in books and movies. How can we know the right thing to do when vampires aren’t supposed to exist? I'm not making a single damn decision until I do some research," she stated firmly. "Can you keep your head enough to stay here?"

"I think you better tie me up. When I came in earlier and saw you – it just overtook me. If there’s any truth to this at all," he shook his head. "I don't think I can fight Celinda," he murmured.

"Fine," she answered shortly.

Harm had a pair of handcuffs in the drawer with his gun and Mac used them to securely fasten him to the metal handle on his stove. He sat down in a chair and she also used a sturdy length of rope to tie him to it, making several knots he wouldn't be able to break.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she promised, heading for the door.

"Mac?" he called to her. She stopped but didn't turn around. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," she answered and left.

Mac went back to her apartment first, trying to decide where to start at two in the morning. Stumbling inside, she sank down on the couch, dropping her purse to the floor. She was weary beyond belief and still grappling to sort out everything Harm had told her. Despite the ludicrous notion of a real vampire existing in modern times, she couldn't deny what she saw with her own eyes. And on the night before Halloween no less. It sounded like every bad B movie plot ever made. Sighing, she rose to her feet and went to the bathroom. The first thing she needed to do was clean up and tend to her neck.

After standing under the hot water until it ran out, she secured a towel around her and stood in front of the mirror. The gouges looked the same as they had earlier in her compact mirror. Two small puncture marks. The surrounding skin was inflamed and the whole area tender to the touch. Carefully, she treated it with peroxide and an antibiotic cream then put a bandage on. Slipping into a sweat suit, she gathered a pen and notepad and curled up against the pillows on her bed. She made a list of everything she'd ever heard about vampires, including the one many considered to be the original immortal, Vlad the Impaler. Over the years, she'd seen them portrayed in various ways in books and movies. It seemed the whoever was telling the story could put whatever spin on it they chose in the name of entertainment. But what was the reality? She got up and went to sit at her laptop. Let's see what the worldwide web could tell her about Vampires.

The Internet could and did tell her a whole lot. Mac's head was spinning with all the information she found and her eyes were burning from staring at the computer for so long. Vampires, it seemed, were deeply and thoroughly entrenched in myth and fact. Cultures existed, rituals were performed, medical conditions resembled what were thought to be long eyeteeth and the intolerance to the sun. There were a million things to consider, a billion explanations and Mac had no time to sort through them all.

Disgusted, she rose from the computer. It was daylight and probably safe enough to assume that Harm would sleep the day away. Staring out the window, Mac made up her mind. Come nightfall, she would go right to the source of the action.

The bouncers at the door waved her through immediately. Everything Harm told her about the club was true. As she stood off to the side looking around, Mac felt completely out of place. Slowly, she started to explore the club, picking her way through the throng of people crammed inside. She spotted a small alcove with tables at the top of some stairs. Making her way up, she found an empty seat and sank into it. She looked around at what she could see of the various dance floors and watched the club-goers.

After a few minutes, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, like she was being watched. Slowly, she leaned back in her chair and carefully turned her head. An incredibly attractive man sitting a few tables away unabashedly met her gaze, not bothering to hide the fact that he was staring. Tilting her head, Mac gave him a slow smile. He gave a small nod and the corner up his mouth gave the barest hint of a lift. She turned her gaze away, back to the dancing and waited to see if he'd make a move. Several minutes passed and Mac started to wonder if he was only looking.

"May I join you?"

She lifted her eyes and found him standing at her side. She nodded toward the opposite chair. "Please, do."

He lowered his tall, muscular frame in the ridiculously small wrought iron chair and leaned back, casually crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. "This isn't your usual type of place, is it?" he asked.

Mac tossed her head artfully. "What do you think my usual type of place is?" she asked.

"Not the kind of place this is," he responded. "I know why you've come."

Mac arched one delicate brow. "I should think it would be obvious why anyone would come to a club."

He chuckled and the rich sound flowed through her. "People hit clubs for many reasons but that isn't what I was referring to. I know you're looking for answers about your friend. The Commander Celinda has been keeping company with."

Mac froze where she was and stared at him. "How could you know that?" she demanded.

"I know a lot of things and I make it a point to watch the people around here. It would take me a long time to explain exactly who I am and where I come from so let me cut to the chase. You won't find any answers here. If Celinda gets wind of your presence, you'll never get out of here alive. There's only one person who might be able to give you what you seek. I can tell you how to find him but whether or not you get him to help is up to you."

Mac shook her head. "I don't understand any of this. How could you possibly know who I am or what I’m looking for?"

He smiled faintly, his dark eyes alight with something akin to pain. "I have some 'distinctive' talents. I know things I wish I didn't most of the time. I know much about Celinda and others like her. You're in danger here because she will view you as competition for the Commander. Take this card and go to the address listed on it. He's the only one. If you can't convince him to help, then the Commander will be lost," he stated simply.

"No," she retorted flatly. "I don't believe you."

He leaned forward and reached over to grip her hands in his. The second he touched her, Mac was hit with a barrage of images in her mind, so quickly that she gasped. She felt the sense of urgency in the man across from him.

"It's the truth, Sarah, and I know you can sense it. Go now. Go to Nicholas before it really is too late."

Mac didn't even bother to question how he knew her name. Yanking her hands back, she snatched up the card he placed on the table and stood. With a troubled look over her shoulder at her unexpected source, she hurried toward the exit.

Several minutes later, she was on the beltway, hurtling out of D.C. toward the address on the card. The drive took her several miles north of the city, into a small hilly area. She passed several large estates, shadowy giants beneath the dark, velvety black sky. The terrain gave way to nothing but trees and black nothingness as she headed out farther and farther. Clicking on her high beams, she watched for some sign of a road. According to the directions on the back of the small card, the road was unmarked but there would be a stunted tree shaped like a three-prong fork. She slowly rounded a slight curve and felt a wash of relief when the road came into sight. Turning, she made her way down the single lane dirt road. Looming in the distance was a huge mansion. A shiver of apprehension raced through her. She should have waited until daylight to come out here but it was too late to turn back now.

She stopped the Corvette in the circular drive and climbed out. Sliding the strap of her small purse over her shoulder, she slipped her hand inside and closed it around the handle of the snub nose she was carrying. She had no idea who Nicholas was or what she was going to find here at this house. There was an old fashioned knocker on the wide, ornate front door and she banged it several times. Shivering slightly in the chilly night air, she waited. With an ominous groan, the door swung inward and she came face to face with an old man in a suit.

"What do you want?" he questioned sharply.

His gravely voice grated over her already screaming nerves. "I want to see Nicholas."

"He doesn’t see visitors." He started to shut the door but Mac raised her hand against it.

"Wait! Please, it's very important that I see him! I was sent," she explained. "by a man who said Nicholas could help me."

"Sorry, he doesn't see people," the old man repeated and pushed harder on the door.

It slammed in her face and she immediately banged on it with her fist. When there was no answer, she tried the knocker again but the house remained stubbornly silent.

"Damn it, damn it," she swore furiously. Standing there on the stoop, she turned and looked around. It was so dark she couldn't see anything beyond the car. "I'm not leaving here until I see this mysterious Nicholas," she stated to herself.

Carefully, she made her way off the stoop and started to feel her way along the side of the house, grateful now that she'd worn pants to the club. She felt bushes catch at her clothes as she crept along, looking for some way she might be able to get in. As she came around the back of the house, she came to a large window. It was dark inside so she couldn't see what lay on the other side of the pane. She reached into her purse and pulled out a nail file. Holding her breath and swallowing the unease that gripped her, Mac carefully used the nail file to flip open the window lock. Thankfully it was an older style and the window wasn't a double pane. Slipping the file back in her purse, she cautiously raised the window. There was no sound from within the room. Mac gingerly eased herself inside and closed the window behind her. She couldn't see even the slightest outline of anything in the room. It was deathly quiet, almost stifling, in fact. The tiny flashlight she carried was next and she passed it around the room. It looked like she was in some kind of den.

Using the tiny beam, she found the door. Cracking it open, she saw a long hall. She didn't hear or see anything so she slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Staying close to the wall, she moved along until she came to another door, refusing to think of what she might be getting herself into. Quiet as a mouse, she slipped into the room and found herself in a library. Floor to ceiling shelves covered all four walls except for where a stone fireplace resided across the room. There was a fire burning, erasing any chill in the room. Heavy leather furniture sat before the fire on an exquisite oriental rug. Her eyes scanned the room but she saw nothing. Her mouth tightened. Her unease grew and a prickling sensation raced through her body, making her stomach turn a slow somersault.

"You are a very determined woman to ignore the danger of breaking into someone's home."

Mac couldn't stop the small cry before it escaped and she whirled, automatically drawing her gun. Her eyes darted left and right but she saw no one.

"Who's there?" she called, hating the tremor she heard in her own voice.

"This is my home. I should be asking you that question."

Very slowly, a tall form materialized from the shadows in front of her. Mac's eyes lifted until she met his and a small gasp slipped out. Undeniably, the most handsome man she'd ever seen in her life stood before her. Her free hand went to her throat and she immediately took a step back, suddenly very aware of him and threatened by his presence.

He made no moves to come closer. He simply stood, studying her. The tableau seemed frozen in time. The gun shook slightly in her grasp as Mac studied him. There were not enough words in the English language to describe the way he looked. Her entire body quivered in response to the sheer maleness of him. Dressed simply in a black turtleneck sweater and black trousers, he waited, hands in his pockets. His hair was also black, like a raven's wing, short and combed back from a high forehead. His bronzed skin could only be natural and his eyes, a piercing shade of silver, never wavered from her.

"My name is Nicholas," he announced softly when there was still no response from her. "My houseman told me someone sent you. Gabriel knows that I do not see people."

"He told me you were the only one who could help me," Mac finally managed to get out. "I met him… at a club tonight. He gave me a card with this address on it," she went on.

"Blood Red," Nicholas confirmed. "You were very lucky if Gabriel is the only one who approached you."

"I wasn't there long," she whispered.

"You may lower your weapon. You are in no danger here," he assured her, his deep voice nothing but a velvety glide.

Something in the way he was looking at her quietly sank in and Mac knew with a certainty she couldn't explain that he was telling the truth. Slowly, she put the gun away and crossed her arms to ward off a sudden chill.

"You are cold. Move closer to the fire," he suggested.

Suddenly it all came tumbling out of her. "I'm sorry I broke in but I'm desperate. I don't have much time and I need some answers. I need help and he said I could come to you. Please," she said in a rush. "Let me tell you what's…"

"There's only one reason Gabriel would send you to me for help. Blood Red is Celinda's club and Celinda has only one purpose in mind at all times." He took a few steps forward and lowered his tall frame into a chair. "You are not the one who needs help, are you? It's someone close to you," he guessed.

"How do you do that?" Mac ground out. "This… Gabriel you keep mentioning did the same thing. He knew all about me but I'd never seen him before in my life. How could you know?" she demanded angrily, confused by this whole mess.

Nicholas leaned forward and propped his forearms on his thighs, letting his hands hang down. "Tell me your name, please."

His calmness seemed to reach out to her. "Sarah."

"Sarah," he repeated, testing the sound of it on his tongue. "I can feel your unease and confusion the same way that Gabriel could. But before I tell you anymore, tell me why you came for my help."

Legs trembling, Mac sank to the edge of the couch behind her. Clenching her hands together, she drew in a slow deep breath. Very slowly, she began to tell Nicholas about Harm and what was happening to him. The other man's eyes never left her face while she talked and throughout her story, she began to feel calmer and more in control, somehow soothed by his presence.

"I'm still not sure I can believe this is true," she whispered. "But I saw his face and something did definitely happen. If you know to undo this, please tell me. I'll do whatever you say, pay whatever price, just tell me how to save him," she pleaded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Nicholas was silent for several long minutes. Before Mac even realized he'd moved, he was sitting beside her. Reaching out, he covered her small hands with one of his, his touch cool against her silky skin. Her gaze drifted downward, noting the difference between her skin and his darker flesh. He had perfect hands, broad and strong with long fingers. He squeezed her hands reassuringly.

"Sarah, I'm going to show you something and I don't want you to be afraid. I promised you no harm would come to you here."

A twinge of dread spiraled through her. Before she could answer he made a growling noise in his throat and his face literally changed right before her eyes. Terrified, she couldn't even breath, let alone move.

"Is this what you saw in him?" Nicholas questioned. When she didn't answer he squeezed her hand again. "Is it?" he demanded.

"Y..yes," she stuttered. "It wasn't… wasn't as pronounced."

Just as fast he looked normal again. Without thinking, Mac raised her fingers to his face. Nicholas caught her hand in a tight grip before she could make contact.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just… how did you do that?" she asked. "Just change?"

"I am a master vampire, Sarah. As is Gabriel."

"Then… why…oh, God," she stuttered, trying to pull her hand from his as she moved away.

Nicholas held firm to her. "Do not be afraid. I haven't fed on humans in many years," he stated softly. "Trust your instincts, Sarah. I know you believe that I won't hurt you."

"Is that how… you know things? How Gabriel knew?"

"Yes."

"I can't bring myself to accept any of this," she admitted in an agonized whisper.

You don't have to explain it to me," he murmured. "Hollywood has glamorized vampires for years as have books. Most people don't believe such a thing could ever exist but it does. We have lived for thousands of years. But there are many who do not live the way Celinda does. She follows the ways of the old world. She feeds for pleasure. You may never fully understand or accept what you've seen but it does exist and it's a very real threat. I have one question for you, Sarah. Do you love Harm?"

Mac raised her head and met his eyes. "Yes," she stated firmly. "I love him more than anything in this whole world. I would give my life for him."

Nicholas could feel her strength behind the statement. "Then I will help you."

Nicholas went back with Mac to Harm’s apartment. It was dark and late as the black limousine they were in sped along the beltway. Nicholas warned her that the chances of Harm still being there were slim.

"But I restrained him," she explained.

"He is in a place now where he will have powers beyond his wildest dreams. Many of them like our ability to control minds and shape shift will not come until he has made his first kill. Only then will his transformation be complete."

Mac turned her head to stare out the window. "And then what?" she asked softly. "You still haven’t told me how you can help." Suddenly she whipped her head back around to face him. "If you have any intention of killing him then you‘d better just let me out of this car right now. "

Slowly, Nicholas lifted his hand and trailed his fingertips over her cheek. "I’m not going to kill him, Sarah. There is a way but it’s very dangerous. It will put you at great risk."

"I don’t care about the risk," she whispered urgently. "Can you understand that? My biggest risk is that I might lose him."

For a long moment, Nicholas was silent. Then the pads of his fingers whispered across her full lips. "Yes, I understand that. I understand, perhaps better than most would. It is why I am helping you, why I do not feed from humans anymore."

Mac searched his light eyes, feeling the pain in his words as if it were her own. Suddenly she realized how Harm must have felt when he first met Celinda. How he felt powerless to resist her. Nicholas was slowly wrapping her in a web of warmth and safety, even though he could be viewed as the enemy. Right now he was her lifeline, the only one she had if she had any hopes of saving Harm.

"You lost someone," she guessed with unerring accuracy.

His eyes closed for a second and when they reopened she saw the blaze of feeling in them. "Yes. A mortal woman. She was killed by another vampire," he stated simply.

Sympathy welled in Mac and she reached up to touch his face. "Oh, Nicholas, I’m so sorry," she murmured. "Is that why you help others?"

"I have helped only a few, ones I believe truly deserve it. I have killed many and many times I’ve wanted to kill myself but I cannot. We do not have the power to end our own existence."

"What made you decide to help me?" she questioned gently.

His eyes searched hers and the grip on her face tightened marginally. "The strength of your love for this man is a tangible force. I can only hope he knows the treasure he has in you. And because… because you remind me of her. Of the one I lost."

Without even thinking about what she was doing, Mac moved her hand from his face and slipped her arms around his wide shoulders, hugging him tightly. He didn’t move for a moment and she wondered if he would push her away but then his hands went to her back and he pressed her close against him.

Despite the coolness of his body, she felt the strength and power in the arms he wrapped around her. Knowing now that one of the qualities that made him unique was the ability to reach people on a certain level, Mac knew what was drawing her to him and for a moment, she let herself go, sinking into his embrace, letting him take her slight weight.

Nicholas bent his head slightly, his cheek against her temple, breathing in the delicate scent of her perfume. His big hands moved slowly up and down her back, soothing her even as he soothed himself with her warmth. Silently calling himself every kind of fool, he moved a fraction and covered her mouth with his.

Feeling exploded inside of Mac at the first touch of his lips. She only wanted to offer him some measure of comfort for the agony she could sense in him. If this would be all he asked in return, then it was a small price to pay. Despite where they were going and the uncertainty of all they still faced, this moment out of time was hers alone. This man who was so far above all she knew and believed in, who had lived for so many years and punished himself even now with memories of the past, could take the small amount she could willingly give and maybe feel some peace from it.

Nicholas slid his hands from her back and up to her face, cupping it gently. He kissed her with such exquisite tenderness it brought tears to her eyes. Even as she felt the desperation in him, he touched her with respect and gentleness. Once the pounding of her heart would have driven him to feed but now it only served to remind him of his own lonely existence. The loving touch of a woman had become a distant memory. Now this lovely creature who had every reason to fear him and the danger ahead of her was offering comfort and tenderness.

Regretfully, he slowly allowed their mouths to part and he rested his forehead against hers, keeping her close for several more minutes, storing up the special magic that would leave him with a new memory.

Mac curled her hands around his wrists and clung to him, unable to find anything to say but knowing words weren’t needed anyway. Nicholas could feel what she couldn’t say.

When they reached Harm’s apartment a short time later, Mac unlocked the door, feeling the mounting dread in her stomach. Slowly, she opened the door, praying she would see Harm still sitting in front of the stove. But Nicholas’ warning in the car came true. The chair was empty, the handcuffs broken in two and the ropes lying useless on the floor.

"It’s very late. He will be returning," Nicholas murmured, looking around the small, clean loft.

"Did he go to her again?" Mac asked bitterly, feeling the sense of betrayal all over again even as the logical part of her knew the power Celinda held.

Nicholas stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "He might have. Celinda desires control at all times. She may have led him to his first kill. Or she may be teaching him the thrill of the hunt and letting him feed from her until she finds what she believes to be a suitable first kill for him. It bothers you that he was seduced by her," he stated gently, watching her changing expression.

The anger drained out of Mac and she leaned back against him, feeling him take her weight. "I feel betrayed but I’m also trying to understand that kind of power." She turned and pressed her palms to his chest. "Since you first showed yourself to me, I’ve felt it between us and I know you’re not even trying, Nicholas. I know this is what Harm must have felt with Celinda."

"Men and women do not view things the same, Sarah. Lust has driven many men to kill for generations. One of the effects of the curse is the heightened appearance, the physical attraction. Celinda is a beautiful woman and very strong willed. She has perfected the art of bringing men to their knees at her feet. Lust is how she hunts her victims. By driving them insane with the desire to have her. She kills most but occasionally finds one worthy of being brought across. As it the case with the Commander. You are by far one of the most stunning women I’ve ever seen, Sarah, and had I been set in my old ways, I would have had you the minute after you invaded my home," he murmured.

"I know I wouldn’t have been able to resist you," Mac stated with certainty.

He brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "No, Sarah, you wouldn’t have," he said without arrogance. "The same way Harm was unable to resist Celinda."

The front door opened then, breaking the moment and they both turned to face it. Harm walked in, stopping short when he saw Mac and the stranger beside her.

"Hey, Mac," he greeted casually, closing the door.

"Harm," she returned neutrally. "Where have you been?"

"Out," he tossed back carelessly. "I had some business to take care of. Who’s this?" he asked, indicating Nicholas.

"A friend," Mac told him.

Harm knew exactly who and what Nicholas was. The two men eyed each other, their expressions hostile. Hastily, Mac stepped toward Harm.

"He’s here to help," she cut in, feeling the tension.

"Help with what?" Harm murmured, his eyes still on Nicholas.

Mac moved right up in front of him and touched his chest. "To help you. To change you back and make you better."

That brought his eyes down to hers. "Make me better?" he snorted. "I’ve never felt better in my life. I hardly think there’s anything he can do for me," Harm sneered. "But you, on the other hand, can do a whole lot for me," he whispered suggestively, snaking an arm around her waist.

"Sarah, step away from him," Nicholas called softly.

Harm raised his head and frowned. "I think you’ve overstayed your welcome, ‘friend’."

Nichols didn’t answer but came toward them instead. Mac looked over her shoulder at him.

"Is it too late?" she asked softly.

Nicholas knew she was referring to Harm’s first kill and he studied the younger man. "No, there’s still time. We have to move quickly." He went to reach for her and Harm’s arm moved her out of Nicholas’ reach.

He changed in one heart-stopping instant and Mac saw that his features now resembled what Nicholas’ had earlier. She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp but he held tight.

"Harm, let me go," she ordered.

"No," he answered flatly. "I want you at my side, Mac. It’s time for you to join me."

He grasped her by the arms and brought her up against him. Mac pushed against his chest. He bent toward her and a swell of panic threatened to burst inside her when she saw him bare his teeth. She slapped him hard, trying to divert him. Harm shook her hard enough to snap her head back. Then Nicholas was there and Mac saw him stab a hypodermic needle into Harm’s neck. Harm released Mac and spun around to knock Nicholas away from him. Before he could take another step, he stumbled and dropped to his knees.

"Harm!" she cried, grabbing his shoulders to keep him from falling over. She lifted terrified eyes to Nicholas. "What did you give him?" she demanded.

"It’s saline with garlic in it. Garlic doesn’t exactly work the way legend says it does but it makes us sick. This will weaken him enough for us to get him back to my house," he explained.

The sun was just starting to come up when they arrived back at the estate. Nicholas lifted Harm in a fireman’s hold and hurried into the house, Mac close at his heels. She followed him up the main staircase and into a room that was pitch black. Nicholas flipped on a small lamp and dropped Harm on the bed. Straightening, he turned to Mac.

"He’ll sleep now, through the daylight. I suggest that you lay down, too, Sarah. There will be much to do tonight and you’ll need all of your strength."

"Can I stay with him?" she asked softly.

He followed her gaze to the man on the bed. "It would not be wise. He is weak but he could still overpower you." She simply nodded. "He will not be able to get out of this room but I will have Martin check on him periodically."

"Thank you," she answered.

"Come, I’ll show you to a guestroom where you can wash up and sleep."

The room he took her to was surprisingly lovely. The furniture was walnut and lent more of a masculine air but the use of burgundy and gray softened the overall effect.

Nicholas paused just inside the door and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Rest, Sarah."

Mac took her time getting ready for bed. There were fresh towels and a robe waiting for her in the bathroom so she took a long soak in the huge tub. Turmoil swirled through her head as she tried to sort out the pieces of the past 48 hours. Someday she would look back on this and realize it was truly a nightmare. She wondered how she would have reacted if she’d met Nicholas in a normal setting. Would she have responded the way Harm did with Celinda? It didn’t matter in the end because Nicholas was what he was. The logical side of Mac could not accept the prospect of vampires even as she witnessed it with her own eyes. If Nicholas could succeed in freeing Harm from the curse, would he still feel the pull of Celinda's attraction? Would he still feel the memory of desire? Mac knew it was a simple matter of biology. Human beings responded to the pull of chemistry but memories could serve as a powerful reminder. Would she be forever be looking over her shoulder, waiting for the sharp agony of him biting her?

"Oh, who am I kidding?" she muttered aloud. Rising from the bathtub, she patted herself dry and slipped into the robe. "I’m drawn to Nicholas by something I can’t explain. The same way Harm was drawn to Celinda except for a different reason. I feel terribly sorry for Nicholas because he seems so alone and I can’t imagine what it would be like to live for as long as he has tormented by memories I couldn’t rid myself of. Harm went to Celinda because she…"

Mac stopped short when she entered the bedroom. Draped across the bed was a lovely black silk gown. Swiftly crossing the room, she hesitantly touched it. The material sifted through her fingers like a waterfall. Untying the belt of the robe, she let it slide from her shoulders then she slipped the gown over her head. It settled around her body like a cloud, the hem stopping just at her ankles. Sighing, she ran her hands down her sides, feeling the wonderful glide against her palms. She knew without question that Nicholas had left it for her. Just as she knew he lit the fire that crackled merrily across the room, flooding it with warmth.

Heavy drapes completely blocked all traces of the morning sunlight and when she turned off the bedside lamp the room was thrown into total darkness. Feeling for the edge of the covers, she tugged them down and slid in, wrapping herself in the warmth of the satin sheets and heavy comforter. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to sleep.

Nicholas heard the echo of her scream in the darkness and leapt from his bed. He’d put her in the room next to him, on the opposite side of his house from Harm. There was no way the younger man could have gotten… the door to her room swung in and Nicholas saw that she was alone. She twisted on the bed, the covers tangled around her slender form as she battled the nightmare that had her by the throat. Closing the door, he swiftly crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Sarah, wake up," he called softly. "Sarah, it’s Nicholas. You’re safe now, darling. Open your eyes."

She came awake with a small cry and lay frozen for an endless minute, her heart pounding furiously. Then with a small sob, she threw herself against Nicholas. He wrapped his arms around her shaking form and held her close, feeling her terror and confusion as surely as if it were his own. He smoothed his hands over her hair and down her back, calming her. After several minutes she stopped crying and the trembling lessened.

"It was just a dream," he murmured against her hair.

"It felt real," she answered, her voice muffled against his throat. Clutching his forearms, she lifted her head and found his gaze in the flickering light from the dying fire. "He was in here and he was trying to …to," she stumbled over the words. "He was trying to make me what he is."

"What I am," Nicholas confirmed, his eyes sad.

"No," Mac shook her head. "You’re not like that. You haven’t once tried to hurt me. He’s… I thought he loved me. He said he did just hours before I left him tied up."

"You don’t understand, Sarah," Nicholas sighed. "It’s not as simple as that. I’m sure he does love you but the man we saw earlier is not the man you know. We’re creatures of darkness, Sarah. What we become when we’re brought over kills all the light, our very human nature. He doesn’t remember what he was before. Were he to remain as he is now, someday he might rediscover his former nature. It’s always a possibility, just as it’s a possibility he could be killed or be drawn permanently to the darkness flowing through him. Some vampires, like Celinda, never lose their passion for the hunt and kill."

"What if Harm is always that way?" she demanded. "How will I know for sure that he’s cured? Can you promise me that?" She went on without waiting for him to answer. "I want him to be like he was before. I want him to have no memory of this time or of Celinda and her beauty. I don’t want to live with the constant fear that someday he’ll rip my throat out!"

She started to cry again and Nicholas pulled her back into his embrace. She struggled against him for a moment but he held firm. Mac curled her fists against his bare chest and thumped them against him, venting her anger and frustration. "Tell me how to make him my Harm again. The kind and honorable man I know. Make him remember the light and his goodness. You did," she accused. "You did it, Nicholas!"

"Yes!" he flared angrily. "And it not only cost me the one woman I would have died for but it’s left me with a bleak, lonely existence!" he yelled, thrusting her away from him.

Mac sat very still, her gaze riveted to his handsome face. His eyes were fairly glowing and she could see that his teeth had lengthened but his face remained unchanged. "But you have your integrity back, Nicholas. Is being lonely more terrible than being a killer?" she prodded gently. "Would you rather still be like Celinda?"

His anger lessened but there was still a hard set to his jaw as he studied her. "No, Sarah, I will never go back to that. But it remains in me. The darkness is still as much a part of me as it ever was. It’s a constant craving that never really goes away, an addiction that I fight every day. It would be so easy to give in to you. You don’t know how much." His voice trailed off to a whispered, his eyes boring into her.

"You want me," she stated, knowing it to be the truth.

"Yes."

"And you could have taken me very easily. I’m not strong enough to fight you. Yet you’ve done nothing but treat me with gentleness. Nicholas, you have conquered the beast. Harm and I live our lives on honor and I recognize it in you."

He reached out and trailed his fingers down the satiny skin of her arm. "You have such innocence, Sarah. It draws me to you even more. What exists between you and I is something we’ll never be able to sort out. I will not act on how I feel about you because you love another nor would I ever destroy your purity. I promise you that Harm will return to what he was before. And when you leave my home, you will never remember all that has happened."

"What?" she asked. "What do you mean we won’t remember?"

"Just as I said. Your memories of the past days, along with Harm’s, will be gone."

"I won’t remember you?" For some reason this left her unbearably saddened.

"No, Sarah. You will remember nothing of me or of your time here. Harm will not remember Celinda or anything he did with her. It is the one gift I can give to you. I can ease your fears of Harm reliving the memories."

"No, Nicholas." He was surprised by the urgency in her voice. "I don’t want to forget about you."

"It would be best," he murmured, stroking the softness of her lips.

"No," she repeated more firmly. "Promise me," she ordered.

"You can’t come back to me," he warned. "Ever."

"I’m not afraid of you," she whispered.

"But I’m afraid of myself," he breathed and then he kissed her.

His mouth lifted, brushed the corners of hers. She melted into him unexpectedly and his cheek whispered against hers, lifting marginally so he could meet her eyes. Soft, velvety brown darkened with curiosity and need. His mouth settled on hers again like the brush of a butterfly’s wing, testing, teasing.

"Slide your arms under mine," he whispered as he nipped at her bottom lip. "Come closer, Sarah," he urged.

She obeyed him without question, sinking into the sweet oblivion he offered. Her hands flattened against his shoulder blades, marveling at how well they fit together despite the differences in their heights.

"Kiss me, Sarah," he whispered, coaxing her lips apart.

His mouth was gentle and then not gentle. She moaned softly as the pressure and insistence grew to shocking hunger, and she felt the deep trembling begin in her limbs against the hard pressure of his body. He let her go suddenly and drew back, his jaw clenched and his eyes strange and glittery.

"Wrong time and wrong place for us, Sarah. I apologize."

Mac touched her lips with shaking fingers. He started to move away and she caught his hand. "Stay with me, please. Just to sleep."

Without a word he slid beneath the covers and wrapped his arms around her. Mac curled trustingly against his chest, feeling safe against his strength. This would be the memory she took away with her when she left.

"It’s time, Sarah."

"Tell me what I have to do."

They were sitting in the library where Mac first met Nicholas. Harm was still locked in the room upstairs.

"There is only one way I have found to destroy the curse. Pure love." He saw the surprise in her face. "Ironically enough, your love is what will save him."

"But how?" she asked, confused.

"The curse can and will be broken if he drinks from you in a moment of exquisite pleasure. Only the blood of the one who holds the truest love for him can do it."

Understanding dawned in Mac. "We have to make love," she stated.

Nicholas closed his eyes briefly. "Yes."

"How can I know he won’t bite me before it’s time?" she asked.

"He won’t. He will be weak now and Celinda’s hold will be distant. When you go in the room, he’ll know it’s you and he will remember your warmth and love. You must use that to your advantage."

"When he… bites me, what will stop him from killing me?"

"You are special, Sarah. I can’t describe to you what will happen. I can only ask that you trust me. He will not kill you. You must go now. Time is of the essence."

He walked with her down the long hall to the staircase and up to Harm’s door. Pausing, he drew her to him for a brief hug.

"Be strong, my brave lady."

Drawing a slow deep breath, Mac opened the door and went in.

Harm was standing at the window, staring out into the dark night. He turned when he heard the door and smiled wanly when he saw her. Firelight flickered throughout the room, providing the only light and rays of warmth.

"Mac."

"Harm."

"Where are we, Mac?"

"Some place special, Harm." Mustering all of her resolve, she walked toward him, clad in the black gown Nicholas had given her.

She went to Harm, laying her hands against his chest. Rising up to her toes, she pressed her lips to his. Desire exploded instantly. Harm grabbed her hips and pulled her roughly against him. Walking her backward, he pressed her down to the mattress, sliding alongside of her. His lips moved along the column of her neck, leaving shivers in his wake. Mac stifled the urge to cringe away as the memories of him biting her rushed in. His tongue traced the shell of her ear and a rush of desire flooded her. Harm shifted against her and she felt his hardness, knew he wanted her just as badly. His big hand slid down to the strap of her gown, slipping beneath it. The warmth of his palm settled over her breast.

"Let me love you, Sarah. What happened before… please don’t be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you again. Let me love you…slowly, gently."

"I’m yours, Harm," she whispered, tracing his face with her fingers. "I always will be."

Rolling her onto her back, he loomed over her. Within minutes, nothing but air kept them apart. Bare skin to bare skin, he loved her. His hands were everywhere, as if he’d never be able to touch her again and must store all the memories in one night. Mac gave everything to him, poured her heart into each touch, every kiss. Over and over she whispered that she loved him until it became seductive music to his ears.

Harm stroked her satiny skin, watching the changing expressions in her eyes as he found the secret places that made her gasp. Desire loomed like a welcome specter and his mouth settled over hers in a deep, claiming kiss.

Her kisses were fearless now and her hands were as bold as his own. Touching, teasing, tempting him until Harm thought he would explode. He drew back for a moment, letting his eyes roam over her flushed face, drinking in her beauty to cool himself momentarily. His senses were swimming, filled with the scent and taste and touch of the woman beneath him. Her skin glowed with his sweat and her lips glistened with his kisses. She was his alone, as no other woman had ever been. A slow smile spread across his face as he watched her eyes darken. Her tongue slid across her lower lip, enticing him and he felt the silken glide of her long legs around his hips.

"Please," she whispered.

He joined them slowly, an agonizing inch at a time, feeling like a condemned man who found himself at Heaven’s gates by accident. Slowly, gauging each flicker in her eyes, each whisper of breath, truly afraid for the first time in his life that he would awake from this dream to find himself where he truly belonged – in the depths of Hell.

Mac’s arms wound around him then like a vise and her hips surged against him in a sweet, all-encompassing tide, claiming him as slowly and surely as any angel had ever claimed a lost soul. She pulled his head down so she could reach his mouth and she kissed him with such love that she doused the fires of Hell that burned in his gut.

He took her gently, using every shred of his constraint to build the passion. To take her higher and deeper than she’d ever been. He could hear the pounding of her heart, felt it beating against his chest. Need clawed through Harm, pushing him to the brink of insanity. Mac arched against him, the slim column of her neck glowing in the firelight.

He drove deeper into her and the last thread snapped. Fierce, desperate pleasure soared through him and he heard her soft cries. Growling low in his throat, Harm dropped his head and sank his teeth into her soft skin.

Mac’s strangled cry echoed in the room. Pain lanced her savagely but she held on, her arms tight around him as he drank. As the sweet taste of her blood filled him, Harm felt a tremendous surge of agony rip him apart. Worse than ever before, it held him captive, paralyzing his muscles as he fed helplessly at her throat. Violent images flooded his mind even as the terrible pain left him shaking in its fury. Harm tore his mouth from her with a guttural cry, an inhuman moan as blood dripped on both of them and blackness rushed forth. With an agonized groan, he collapsed against her and was still. It was the last thing Mac remembered as the darkness claimed her, too.

Mac came awake very slowly. Disoriented, she lay still, feeling Harm’s heavy weight pushing her into the mattress. Carefully, she pushed him off of her and onto his back. Sitting up, she lifted a hand to her neck. The skin was torn and she could feel the dried blood. Wincing as she straightened out her legs, she swung them over the side and rose unsteadily, tugging the comforter from the bed to wrap around her. The fire had long since gone out and the room was cold. Crossing to the windows, she grabbed the heavy drapes and yanked them open. Sunlight spilled in as it rose slowly over the far horizon. She stood for a moment in the weak warmth. Leaning her head against the glass, she breathed deeply, feeling as though she’d been asleep for years.

"Mac! Are you all right?"

Harm’s hoarse shout startled and she whirled around. He was already out of the bed and moving toward her. Grasping her shoulders, he brought her close, his eyes searching her face and body. He saw the blood on her neck and his face went white.

"Oh, God, I thought I’d dreamed… what have I done?" he muttered, horrified as he slowly backed away from her.

Sunlight caught him full in the face, starkly illuminating his pain and fear. It took a second to sink in for Mac.

"Harm…" she whispered. "The sun – you’re standing in the sun!"

Tears sprang to her eyes as she launched herself into his arms. Confused, Harm gathered her close. She hugged him tightly and then pulled back.

"It worked!" she breathed joyfully. "Oh, Harm, Nicholas was right! It did cure you!"

Understanding slowly came to Harm and his expression cleared. "The…vampire? It’s gone?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Yes! We did it! Oh, Harm, we turned it around! Thank you!" she cried, looking Heavenward. "Thank you for giving him back to me!" She looked back at Harm, her eyes shining brighter than the sun. "I love you – so very much."

She hugged him again and Harm stood without saying anything, trying to assimilate everything she was saying. Slowly, he lifted her away from him until he could see her face.

"I remember last night. Sarah, I bit you…" he reached a hand toward her neck then curled his fingers into a fist and closed his eyes briefly. "How can I ever make up for that?" he whispered agonizingly.

"You don’t have to," she murmured tenderly, touching his face. "It was the only way…"

He searched her expression. "You knew what would happen?"

She nodded. "Nicholas told me it was the only way to break the curse. Do you remember Nicholas? He was with me at the loft last night when you came in."

Harm vaguely recalled the dark-haired stranger. "He was standing too close to you," he muttered.

She laughed and the sound was the sweetest he’d ever known. "He helped me save you, Harm. Someone who knew what happened to you led me to him and I’m eternally grateful to both of them. Without Nicholas’ help, I wouldn’t be standing here with you now."

"Is this his home?" Harm questioned.

"He brought us here because it was safe and you needed to sleep away from the sunlight. So did he," she admitted.

"You mean he’s…?"

"Yes, he’s a master vampire and he knows Celinda, Harm. He knew what she was doing."

Harm released her and pressed the heels of both hands to his forehead. "This is making my head spin," he groaned.

He went over and sank down on the bed, realizing for the first time that he was still nude. He tugged the sheet across his lap and heard a giggle escape Mac.

"Little late for that, don’t you think?" she teased, sitting down beside him. He shot her a dark look. "Do you remember what’s happened?" she asked.

"Yes, I remember it all," he sighed. "Including hurting you – both times." The words sounded like they were torn from deep inside.

Mac shifted and laid her head on his shoulder. "It wasn’t you, Harm. I know that now. I know you would never hurt me."

"What happens now?" he questioned softly, speaking what was on both of their minds.

She met his eyes and laid her hand over his heart, feeling the strong, steady beat. "We go home," she stated simply.

They ended up lying back down for the time being. It was still very early and Mac knew Nicholas would be sleeping. She refused to leave without being able to see him one more time. Later, when the sun was down and they were both dressed and ready to go, Mac went looking for Nicholas. She found him in the library, sitting in front of the ever-present fire, his expression brooding. Closing the door, she went in and stood behind him.

"He has returned to what he was before."

"Yes. Nicholas…"

"Don’t say anything, Sarah." Grasping the hand she laid on his shoulder, Nicholas tugged her around in front of him and rose to his feet. "It’s time for you both to go."

"I know," she murmured. "Nicholas," she tried again.

His smile was bittersweet. "If it were up to me you would never leave here," he whispered.

"I would never leave you," she corrected tenderly. "You gave him back to me, Nicholas."

"Be happy, Sarah."

He turned her toward the light from the fire and cradled her face in his hands. The better to see her, the better to memorize the delicate contours of her face and the flowing lines of her body. He bent to kiss her, brushing aside a strand of her dark hair. His lips settled against the pulse in her temple for a long moment and he felt the flutter of her eyelashes against his skin. Tilting her head back, he brushed his lips across hers. Once, twice… a third time, whispering the same words over and over. Be happy, Sarah… Until it flowed like a song through her veins, a hymn in the tone of his beautiful, velvety voice. She swayed against his tall form, her hands clutching his arms, breathing him in. His kissed her possessively, curling one hand around her neck as he savored the moistness of her lips. Weakness invaded Mac’s limbs and she went limp in his arms. Nicholas caught her against him, sliding his mouth from hers.

Tenderly, he gazed down at her face. "Goodbye, my darling, Sarah."

Bending slightly, he lifted her into his arms and carried her from the room.

Mac awoke with a start. Sitting up, she looked around, forgetting for a moment where she was. She heard a low moan from the vicinity of the bedroom and she jumped up from the couch and hurried toward it. Harm was moving restlessly against the sheets. Bending over him, Mac smoother her hand over his head.

"I’m here, Harm," she whispered. Sliding her hand through his hair, she found it soaked with sweat. "Thank God," she whispered to herself, knowing his fever had finally broken.

"Mac?" His eyes opened slowly, his gaze searching for her.

"I’m here," she smiled, reaching for his hand.

"Wha’s wrong?" he asked, the words slurred.

She smiled tenderly and continued to stroke her hand over his head. "You’ve been very sick with the flu. But your fever has broken. Everything will be fine now. Just rest."

"Have you… been here the whole… time?" he mumbled.

"Yes. Someone had to take care of your six," she teased softly.

His eyes closed and he clenched his fingers around hers. "’kay," he answered.

"You’ve been sick for since last weekend but it didn’t get bad until Wednesday. That’s when I came to take care of you," she explained. "I was afraid I would have to take you to the hospital."

His eyes opened again. "Did good. Stay with me, Sarah," he urged, tugging on her hand.

Smiling, she slid down beside him, curling one arm between them and laying the other over his chest. He held her close and she felt him brush his lips against her forehead.

"Rest, Sarah."

His words struck a familiar chord within her and she wondered why he whispered what he did. Sighing gently, she closed her eyes. He was probably more asleep than awake and just talking without realizing what he was saying. It felt familiar to be at his side, curled in his arms. She was just glad he was finally on the road to recovery. It had been a long few days tending to him while the fever raged on. Shifting, she glanced up at him. Oddly enough, she didn’t remember much of the last few days either but then again she was exhausted. She didn’t even recall falling asleep on the couch.

"I love you, Harm," she whispered, knowing he was already asleep and wouldn’t hear her.

"Love you, Sarah…" he whispered back, startling her.

His arms tightened, bringing her even closer. "Never leave here," he mumbled.

A strong sense of déjà vu swamped Mac and her eyes snapped open. She looked up at him again and this time he was asleep. Sighing, she put her head back down on his chest, feeling the strong thud his heart beneath her ear. It must have been something from a dream.

Many miles away, Nicholas stood at the window in his room. He could console himself only with the knowledge that these two would have their lives to love each other, something he had lost for himself. Even though she’d asked him not to make her forget, he’d taken the memories from both of them. But he could not take away his own and the remembrance of Sarah’s face and touch would be with him until his end. For an eternity.

The End