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clearly, there was no conflict for him.
    Though it had been a long time since Gideon Green had had a woman in his life, he remembered with aching clarity what the casual intimacy felt like, as well as what it felt like to lose her. He would never again take for granted the ability to touch, flare his nostrils to take in her scent, or do any single thing to make her smile, to make life easier for her. Heavens above, he had his task cut out for him on that one.
    She knew she hadn’t accepted that this was the way the whole rest of her life could be. From that perspective, the lengthening of her life span wasn’t a boon. She might need protection for the next few centuries to keep her from harming others. She might never again move freely down a city street, enjoying the night sounds and press of city crowds, go into Macy’s and browse through lingerie or check out a new gallery.
    Beyond her selfish interests, how could she ask them to commit their lives to this? Daegan, who wouldn’t even leave to go get fresh blood when he’d been here, and Gideon, who’d become her shadow, sleeping right outside the cell they’d used for her seizures, until Brian had arrived. One very beneficial thing the scientist had brought with him were two sets of locking cuffs that couldn’t be broken by her vampire strength. They allowed her to have the seizure wherever she was, rather than having to imprison her further. Being bound and caged was intolerable to her, but she’d had to bear it. Having only the restraints was at least an improvement.
    She’d been able to go back to her bed during her daylight sleep, instead of staying in the cell. Still, with Brian’s constant measurements and readings, and Gideon having to stick so close, there were times she intensely missed her solitude, her sanctuary from everything. Many mornings she’d lain alone in bed reading, listening to music, thinking over the night in the club, the adventures and banter of her staff. She’d taken that for granted, that freedom and ease of existence. The ability to truly be alone. How did she wrap her mind around a few centuries, when she couldn’t conceive of living this way for a few months?
    Daegan had told her the bloodlust would die down, become more manageable. Their “hope” was that the madness, Barnabus’s schizophrenic shadows, would as well, when it wasn’t fueled by that fledgling-crazed hunger or transition.
    When it all became too much, she took advantage of the pleasure of her servant’s body. How easy it was to use him like that appalled her in some ways, thrilled her in others. Gideon was generous with his body, as all men could be. She wanted to challenge him more, because she’d always required more than a cock and a pretty face. She wanted the soul as well. The first night they’d met, she’d made it clear that she would always ask more than he was used to giving, and he had responded just as she’d craved, with passion and fury both. Then she’d been turned.
    If she could get past her fear of her new strength, her bloodlust, she would open that pleasurable battleground again. He would fight her—she knew it—for both her pleasure as well as his. He was a quick study that way. She’d always been very sexual, of course, but with a vampire’s constitution, arousal was barely a thought away, and not in a damaging, addictive way. It was simply a part of her now, like her penchant for paintings of isolated landscapes and the fact she liked butter-pecan ice cream more than she liked strawberry. Desire was an ocean in her, always moving, always flowing.
    Fortunately, a third-marked servant was well-disposed to keep up, even though she couldn’t get past her fears to do much more than savage vanilla lovemaking, an edge to it that cut her to the bone, because she wanted so much more from him. The vampire hunter, with no clear-cut mission or purpose now except seeing to her immediate needs.
    It shamed her, her self-absorption. She