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right now. I wouldn’t have thought that there was any way for you to move much less sit up for several more days. My son brought you here yesterday. You were damaged very badly. Cover your eyes and I’ll turn on a few lights.”
    The voice had a hint of humor, and class.
    Bailey couldn’t have lifted her hands to cover her eyes if her very life depended on it, so she just closed them tightly against the sudden glare, and even that hurt some. After a few moments, she opened them a little at a time until she could see again. She gently turned her head to where she thought the man had been sitting and sucked in her breath. There sat the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She looked away. Men like him made her nervous. Actually, all men did.
    “Damaged? You said I was damaged, what does that mean? And how did I get here? The last thing I remember was fighting some she bitch in a hotel in Paris.”
    “Yes, I’m sorry, I meant to say injured. Humans are injured, my kind is damaged. The bitch, ah, that would be Pete Marshall, I assume. She called her master and he sent my son as he is able to move through space very quickly and was there visiting. He healed you and brought you here to mend, err heal. You are still in Paris, in our home. It’s Tristan’s home actually.”
    “I don’t know…Tristan? I don’t know him, unless he’s one of the people hanging out with this Marshall chick.”
    “No, no, Tristan is a vampire, a pure blooded one at that, and as I said, my son. He should be returning soon. He needed to make a quick…he was thirsty, you see.” Thirsty, good thing to call sucking the life out of someone, she thought.
    She finally stood up, swayed slightly, and would have fallen if he hadn’t flashed to her side to catch her. Before she could think, she jerked from him and cried out as the pain again tore through her. As she was falling into a black void to escape the pain, she heard someone yell out.
    She didn’t think it was her, nor the man she’d been talking to, though it was definitely the voice of a male.
    This time, when she woke up, Bailey took a survey of herself and the room before she moved. The pain was manageable, barely. Bailey reached out into the room and found a female sitting in the chair this time. She didn’t bother with conversation. She could feel the woman’s gentle probe into her mind. Bailey knew she wouldn’t get much, just what she wanted her to have. Bailey managed to turn over and sit up before the woman spoke.
    “My name is Abby St. James, and you are?” The room brightened with candlelight in gentle increments, instead of the flare of overhead lights. Bailey knew immediately this room was different than the one before. It was darker and there were no windows.
    Instead of answering, Bailey wanted her things. “I had some stuff. The other woman, the one from the hotel, said she got it all. I’d like it please.”

    “I believe it’s all here with the exception of your arsenal. Tristan has taken that to the safe in the other wing of the house. There are clean towels and a new toothbrush in the bathroom. I’ll wait here, and then we’ll talk.”
    “Whatever.”
    Bailey hobbled to the beautifully appointed bathroom. It was as big as most hotel rooms she stayed in when working. Of course she tended to stay in dives, but still, it was huge. The double vanity was the length of the room, about ten feet. There were high gloss cobalt pottery bowls sitting under the long necked faucets instead of sinks. The lights around the mirrors were soft and reset into the wall behind them. There was a deep pool, not a tub but an actual pool with a water fall coming from somewhere above with plants hanging from different heights. When Bailey ran her hand through the water, she found it to be very warm, almost hot and smooth.
    Unlit candles surrounded the pool, sitting on rocks and nestled in plants. Next to it was a shower stall that four people could easily stand in, with jets at