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the acquisition personally.” Cyrus strolled to the doors. “This is short notice, but I don’t want to put unnecessary delays in the process.”
    Evan let her go and followed. “You’re paying us a great deal to handle your legal requirements, no matter how short notice. I’ll make arrangements to fly out this weekend.”
    Evan wasn’t a slight man, but standing next to Cyrus, he seemed small in stature. Or perhaps Cyrus, luminous as the sun, couldn’t help the way he eclipsed other men.
    Her body had never responded to a man the way it did with Cyrus. She loved Evan, but they’d never kindled a spark, much less a fire. Nonetheless she couldn’t let a blaze of lust incinerate sixteen years of steadfast friendship and the safety net of her only family.
    The electric current from Cyrus ebbed as the two men strolled inside, until it was no longer palpable, leaving emptiness in its wake.
    She staggered to the patio table and gripped the back of a chair. How could she be enamored with a stranger? Love at first sight was for fairytales. And it was completely beyond the realm of possibility with some jetsetter who would have been featured on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Champagne wishes and caviar dreams, my ass.
    Yet no one had ever roused such sweet euphoria. The feel of the world falling away enveloped her once more and she sank into a patio chair.  

Chapter Four
    Forty-one hours after touching his kabashem , Cyrus still couldn’t decide if fate was kind or cruel. He stretched his neck from side to side as he wielded his sword. Planting his bare feet on the gym mat, he prepared for his sparring partner’s advance.
    Abbadon, his advisor and old friend, swung his blade high, aimed at the head. Cyrus ducked and rolled to the side on his knees. As he sprang to his feet, their swords clashed in a flurry of silver.
    The strident clanging of the metal brought him familiar comfort. Sweat trickled down his brow and he relished the burn building in his arms and thighs. He needed to work off the sting of his setback.  
    Thanks to Serenity’s obstinacy or her attachment to the human, his plan the other night had completely fallen apart. He’d heard how others had met their kabashem , and about the instant, irrefutable attraction. Hell, he’d felt it and it had taken every ounce of self-control to keep from peeling her clothes off.
    Sometimes politics and the issue of redemption clouded things between mates, but with Serenity there were no Kindred beliefs to muddy the waters. What had gone wrong with his approach? One of the most feared warriors amongst Kindred and chosen to be the next Council member to govern his House, but he couldn’t garner enough interest from his kabashem to get her to agree to dinner.
    “It is a good omen she doesn’t belong to one of the other Houses,” Abbadon said. “War would be upon us if you tried to unite with her under those circumstances.”
    If the other Houses discovered he’d found his kabashem , war would still be inevitable. Even though more Kindred became afflicted every day with either bloodlust or the dark veil, both devastating their species, some didn’t want the curse to end. It would mean the loss of their preternatural powers in exchange for redemption. They’d sooner choose death, and most certainly war, than to be relegated to the mediocrity of humankind.
    The two circled each other. His opponent thrust his sword out and Cyrus parried every strike with fluidity honed over years of training. The blows were quick and tight, testing Cyrus’s reflexes as well as his judgment. Their blades collided, locking together. Metal grated against metal. The sword twisted loose from Cyrus’s hand and clunked to the mat.
    He landed two swift uppercuts to Abbadon’s chin. “Approaching her when she thinks she’s human was like sailing into battle without knowing which way the wind would blow.”
    His sparring partner quickly regained his bearings. “She may think she’s