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her. “You work as hard now as e’er you did for the church.”
    “Holiday comes from the words holy day ,” Rebecca reminded him. “’Twas the church that used to give us leave from our duties.”
    “Aye, so that we might sit and listen to hours and hours of promises of damnation in poorly spoke Latin.” He nipped her ear. “If you miss it, we could arrange to spend the day in bed watching the Evangelical Channel.”
    Rebecca laughed. Her husband despised television above all modern things. “I think I would trade all my jewels to see you do such a thing. If I had jewels.”
    He turned her around, his expression troubled. “You do not miss it still, do you?”
    Rebecca’s humor faded a few degrees. She did miss it, her human life. The enjoyment of food, the pleasure of working in the sunlight, the companionship of her friends among the sisters. Few females rose to walk the night; those who belonged to Locksley had been either villeins or gently bred ladies. As chatelaine, she was responsible for them as well, so what friendship she felt toward them was ever tempered by her duty to watch over them.
    But Sylas had lost as much as, if not more than, she. The plague had taken every member of his family, including his beloved younger sister, for whom he had sacrificed so much. That loss had nearly destroyed him.
    “My only regret in this life and all the others that have been or will be,” she said, winding her arms around his waist, “is that I did not find you sooner.”

C HAPTER T HREE
    Will rose in the early afternoon, tired of staring aimlessly at the ceiling. He’d managed to rest an hour, but thoughts of Reese kept his mind as a dog chasing its tail, ever turning in useless circles.
    He dressed, collected the day’s mail from the slot in his door, and skimmed through it. Among the various business letters, purchase orders, and reports was a postcard from the county courthouse, stating that Robin Archer was scheduled to appear in court for jury selection in two weeks.
    “Not again.” He crumpled the postcard and made a mental note to speak once more to their human friends in the Atlanta Police Department about permanently removing Rob’s alias from their computers.
    Will walked through the connecting door to the penthouse suite. Immediately he smelled the dark ginger scent of the red-haired mortal from the nightclub whom Robin had brought to his bed. Mild irritation set in as he tracked her path and found that she’d been all over the rooms. He’d have to arrange to have the entire suite cleaned to rid it of her scent.
    Will didn’t understand why his master had brought the woman here. He’d always preserved the privacy of his city home as a refuge, a place of retreat from the mortal world and the responsibilities of the jardin . Certainly it hadn’t been for convenience’ sake; the rooms they kept reserved for their use at the hotel had been closer.
    At least she’s gone , he thought as he straightened a pillow and moved into the kitchen. He’d been obliged to watch the security cameras until she had left the building, which she had done shortly before dawn.
    He couldn’t see what Robin found so interesting about her. She had been a pretty thing, well dressed and pleasantly mannered, but they hadn’t trailed her to the club for her charms. She possessed a great prize, the book Robin had coveted for centuries, and the only true reason Robin had to trifle with her was to help him obtain it—and yet he had brought her here and used her for his pleasure.
    Surely there would be complications now. With mortal females, there always were.
    Will eased open the door to Robin’s bedchamber, saw the surprising fact that his master was still at rest, and silently gathered the glasses left by the bed table. He took them into the adjoining bath in order to dump the dregs left in them in the sink. He should have persuaded Reese to come to his rooms last night. Even holding her in his arms through the long