Master Calabrea: Dark Vampire

Romance (Masters of the Consulate

Book 6) Sylvia Black
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Master Calabrea
MASTERS OF THE CONSULATE (BOOK 6)

SYLVIA BLACK
BOOK WORLD INK
 Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Thank You
Acknowledgments
About Sylvia Black
Do You Want More?
 Copyright © 2023 Master Calabrea by Sylvia Black

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing,
photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from the author. Sylvia Black retains moral rights as author of this
work.

This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters,
places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language
and may be considered offensive to some readers.

Cover by Cassandra Fear, C&N Design

Editing by Silla Webb | Masque of the Red Pen

Created with Vellum

 Chapter

One

I
walk into The Descallia, one of the busiest clubs in the most southern tip of Italy, tugging on the
ends of the crisp white sleeves beneath my black suit coat. The greeter gives me a nod of
recognition. I weave in and among humans and vampires alike, any of whom could be part of the
well-orchestrated cue intended to bring the vampires to our knees. The same fuckers who will pay the
ultimate price when we find the rogue shifters who have evaded us until now, along with their
traitorous leader, Isala
The lounge is pulsing with a throbbing, seductive music. The music is almost too loud to even
hear myself think. It doesn’t seem to bother the couples conversing at the tables, the couples making
out on the couches to the rear of the room, or the ladies gently swaying on stage one little bit.
Even under the dim lights it's not hard to spot our warriors strategically posted around the
perimeter of the club. We may have assimilated over the years, but that doesn’t mean everyone
approves of the vampires living among them and the warriors are ready to intervene at the slightest
hint of trouble. It seems there’s always some type of discord when all the factions mingle.
The bartender, who I’ve known for centuries, gives me a nod as I take a seat in front of the long
black marble bar. "Descallia Red."
He brings a bottle of the imported blood wine mixture from below and pours me a healthy glass.
"Master Calabrea, Overmaster Descallia asked me to let you know that he may be running a few
minutes late for his meeting with you this evening, sir."
I swallow down half the drink in one long swallow, letting the mixture of blood and wine take the
edge off the storm swirling in my mind. “Thanks for letting me know,” I tell him, settling in at the bar
to wait.
The feel of war is heavy in the air…
My thoughts swirl with all the trouble the rogue vampires have brought to our doorstep, century
after century. They’re smarter than we gave them credit for, and their hatred of our leader and the
community he has built fuels their determination to send us back to the dark ages. Even after days of
scouring the countryside, we’re no closer to finding them or Isala.
If given half a chance, the combined forces will destroy the reputation and respectability
Overmaster Descallia has built for the vampires in this day and age, and much more. They will do
everything they can to discredit us, take our power, and then revert to snacking on humans when
they're least expecting it.
Then, and only then will the villainous rogues ever quiet their thirst for revenge.
A hand taps my shoulder and pulls me from my reverie. "Calabrea, thanks for meeting me. I know
you have much to do, but it’s prudent I speak to you in private before the others join us this evening.
Should we have a seat; I could use a drink?" Overmaster Descallia asks.
We get to the table where a reserved sign is always present for our leader, the owner of the
Descallia Resorts and Clubs all around the globe and Overmaster to all twelve of the consulate
masters. Each, responsible for a region of the globe where vampire history is entrenched the most.
A dancer with long creamy legs, a burgundy and silver pair of skimpy panties and nothing else on
graces the stage and begins to sway to the sound of the seductive and rhythmic beat as we take our
seats slithering closer to give me a smile while her fangs hang seductively over the bottom of her
lower lip. The females see our suits and sense authority and power in the room, and this one is the
worst.
A server appears and pulls my attention back to the table. Overmaster orders a Descallia Red. I
place a hand over my glass, still almost full. "Thank you, though," I tell the young woman who flashes
me a bright smile before she hurries back to the bar.
Overmaster Descallia clears his throat. He's not a man of many words, doesn't usually waste them
and doesn't do it now. "There are a few things you should know before we bring the others up to
speed on the logistics of finding Isala.”
He scans the bar, taking in the four warriors who I spotted when entering the top floor of the club.
"We haven’t told many, but Dragos wasn’t the only one who defected from the warriors and went to
work with Isala. I'm intentionally keeping things quiet for now, hoping to flush any remaining traitors
out of the woodwork. Since we can’t use them in the capacity we’re used to, I’ve brought in a special
operations team. It’s critical you be prepared to work with them and also understand why the secrecy
around the team.”
"I see."
The server brings his drink. Overmaster Descallia tastes it, still observing me. "And you're not
sure how you feel about me making that decision without the masters being fully apprised?"
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do. But something about the secrecy rankles being one of
the masters who isn’t getting the same level of information that we’re used to as of late. The entire
purpose of the consulate is to deal with and make decisions that impact us all. Why else bring twelve
different vampire masters together, rulers of the regions where the richest and richest of vampire
history comes from?”
He nods. “I don’t disagree. I’m the one who set the consulate up to create checks and balances in
the decision making to ensure that we were always focused on the greater good of the vampire
community, yet now I decide what the masters know and what they don’t?”
He doesn't give me time to respond, just keeps talking. "It's okay, Calabrea. It's nothing I haven't
thought about long and hard or haven't discussed at length with Luciana and Lucas. It hurts me not to
be able to share this with all the masters. The entire structure we created for the vampire community
depends on each of the global regions providing input to guide the group as a whole. I believe in the
structure, wholeheartedly. That’s why I kept myself as Master of my region, instead of putting
someone else in in charge. Keeping twelve instead of thirteen.”
I nod, taking a drink of the mixture that is blended to perfection but doesn’t feel like quite enough
tonight.
“I realize the secrecy goes against the strategy laid out and which we live by, but as Overmaster,
it's also my responsibility to look ten steps into the future and intercept anything that could harm us.
We need to remove the traitors that have gotten into the folds of the warriors before we can open up
communication the way we once had it.”
A waitress stops in to check on our drinks, and both of us decline another. "That's why you
brought in the special ops team? They have the combat skills we need?" I ask after she moves on.
Overmaster Descallia takes a long pull of his drink and sets the glass down with a thud, lowering
his voice even further as a young couple with their arms wrapped around each other pass by our
table. “Yes, they’ve been hand-selected for their skill sets and sworn to secrecy by me. Darius can
hack into or build systems comparable to those used by the FBI.”
My eyebrows raise in admiration. Now that’s a skill set that I don’t think we have, even with the
warriors. “Sweet.”
“Troy and Marcus have been focused on tracking and travel paths to this point. I don’t want one
place the rogues have stopped and sought help, refuge, or curried favor to go unchecked. We may not
have time to deal with all the traitors now, but mark my words, we will come back for them. When
we do, they will pay the ultimate price for their betrayal to the vampires.”
“I understood you told Isala you have a source near this area? One from the special ops team?”
Overmaster Descallia nods. “Yes, however, Lucianna and I believe it’s a trap. Isala wanted them
to find her, or she wouldn’t have been found that easy, even with their skills. I want you to tread
carefully, Calabrea. You may know the community here, but remember, this woman has managed to
live under my roof and maintain a credible façade of being devoted to the vampire community for a
very long time. All while quietly convincing many of the young wolves and witches in the underworld
to join her fight against us.”
Isala has become a formidable opponent indeed. “I planned to check in with the lords in the area,
have their vampires cast a wide net over the entire region. She can’t hide from all of the Calabrea
region,” I tell him.
Descallia nods, his dark black eyes turning red around the rims. “Perhaps not, but Silver, who
will also join you, has powers of sight that were previously untapped until he started working with
us. He’s been mentoring with Lucianna and was able to help find the missing woman the rogues took
to make it look like the vampires were snatching women off the streets awhile back. He will be of
great assistance to you and your teams.”
“Are we getting blowback from the humans from the missing woman?” I ask.
“So far, we’ve been able to alleviate any concerns by getting in front of it and leading the charge
to rescue them. They’ve all been returned home, and the rogues seem to be focused on other things
now. I want you to take Silver, and a couple others with you on this assignment, though. His special
powers will help you and us all.”
Overmaster Descallia may think everything in his life is secret, but I’ve heard a few whispered
rumors about the special powers of not only this Silver, but also of Descallia’s mate who does much
but talks little. We masters converse among ourselves before and after the consulate meetings,
whether he knows it or not.
“Who are the others?” I ask, talking to him but shifting my eyes on a vampiress in a slinky red
dress who is eye fucking me from where she hovers near the next table. The scent of her arousal wafts
heavy in the air, her heart beats fast, and her fangs descend over the top of her bottom lip before the
tip of her tongue touches them.
Only if there were time, sweetheart. But tonight, there are far too many things to do besides
feasting on the lovely vampiress who isn’t in the least bit trying to play coy. She, just like the others,
knows exactly who I am, and the power that being my mate would hold.
I make take them to bed, but I’m not about to step into a trap like that twice in a lifetime. There’s
no time for even a passing hook-up right now. The next couple days will be filled with laying down
plans to find and capture the elusive Isala before a war the likes that no one has ever seen breaks out
between the factions of the underworld.
Overmaster Descallia notices the female hovering and scowls. She doesn’t need anything other
than that to take the hint and flee back to the bar area where she immediately sparks up an intimate
looking conversation with her next target.
He returns us both to the work at hand. “Clay and Terrence will come with you too. Silver will
help you in ways you wouldn’t imagine, but you can depend on Clay and Terrence to fight by your
side. We brought them into the special forces because of their formidable combat skills. They will
help fill the void of the warriors we can’t engage at this time.”
I clear my throat. What I have to say needs to be said. "It seems to me that if the warriors were the
only ones you were worried about, the two of us wouldn't be having this conversation in a bar, but at
our headquarters in Rome with ten more of our brothers around us.”
Overmaster Descallia doesn’t say a word, just observes me closely. I can hear the speed of his
chest pumping just slightly harder and the blood thrumming through his veins.
“You think there is a traitor among us too?” I ask. After centuries, he should know that I mean him
no disrespect, but still, he’s not used to being questioned nor am I used to being used as a pawn.
His jaw tightens, and the red around his eyes tinge. "I certainly hope not, but given the situation
it's not out of the realm of possibility. I'm just not willing to take that bet with everything at stake.
Until I know for certain, I'll keep things close to the vest and ask you to share with no one but me.”
I nod, recalling how centuries ago one of his own most trusted employees turned traitor and
caused the death of Overmaster Descallia’s mate. A brother vampire who died a savage and
unrelentless death by Descallia’s own brutal hands.
He turns the crystal glass on the top of the table, and the last of the red wine blend swirls in the
bottom before focusing his eyes on me. “You’ll have full authority on this mission, but the goal is to
get to Isala and take her alive. Roman is going to be with us, but his focus is going to be finding out
which of the syndicate elders is in on the cue to overthrow the vampires. He believes they were at
least in part responsible for the death of his brothers and nearly the death of his sister.”
“And we don’t?”
“On the contrary, I want that information too, but not at the cost of letting Isala slip through our
fingers again. The priority is Isala, whether Roman likes it or not. Use his determination to discern
any information we need, but let him deal with his kind. Is that clear?”
“Crystal. It actually makes me feel much more reassured about the mission at hand.”
Overmaster Descallia nods. “Good.” Then he leans in closer. “I don't want Lucianna to know I’ve
asked you to bring Isala to me alive. She will think that I'm doing it out of a favor to her. She would
not want the vampire community to think I'm sparing her sister’s life because of her.”
My brows knit because that’s exactly how it looks sitting from my chair. "Then why? If I might
ask."
Descallia nods and sits back, adjusting a silver and diamond cuff link beneath his dark suit. “Get
in, get her out and into our hands alive. If we find those at the top, all the better, but don’t focus on it.
Focus on Isala,” he says, which doesn’t answer my question at all.
Lucianna walks through the door of the club. “And do it without Lucianna knowing?”
His eyebrows knit, almost with indecision. “If that’s possible, then yes. If not, I’ll need to deal
with it myself. He turns toward the door as his mate, the one with glowing crystalline green eyes,
walks toward us as if she already knows our secret and has one of her very own.
 Chapter

Two

T
he mover drops the last of the cardboard boxes unceremoniously into the back of the long ass
crate. I bite my tongue, grateful in the knowledge that I hand wrapped every piece left from my
grandmother in bubble wrap, at least twice if not three times. Whatever is in that box will be
okay until it makes it to the other side of the globe, and to a life far different than this.
He drops another box, and this time I’ve had enough. I rush over to him, unable to stand idly by.
“Hey, that box you just tossed around contains pieces of my heart. If you can’t be careful with my
belongs, I’ll find someone who gives a shit."
He has the good conscience to look as guilty as he should. "Sorry about that, doll."
My eyes narrow. "Are you really?"
He grimaces and then sighs. “I am now. I'll be careful with your stuff."
Now he sincerely looks apologetic, but then again, I’m the worse judge of characters that ever
walked this earth. I must be for not seeing what my ex was like before everyone else in town. “It's all
that’s left of my grandmother's belongings. They're worthless to anyone but me."
When they finish loading everything, the guys with him push the ramp into the truck and close the
doors. The sound of the metal slamming shut feels like a signal that the life I know is really over.
I can only hope the new one will be much better than what I’m leaving behind. I can't even bear to
watch the long moving truck pulling out of the parking lot of the complex and onto the main thorough. I
walk back into the now empty apartment and leave the keys on the counter for the landlord along with
a check written out, including enough to pay for the final cleaning.
One more glance around and I choke back tears that burn behind my eyes. I will not cry for a life
that wasn't really mine, at least not the one I thought it was or for a relationship that I thought was
special, but clearly, he did not. Too much time has passed, and still the memories of the betrayal haunt
me. It’s time to move on and leave them in the past where they belong.
My cell phone rings. “Embry!” I was just thinking of you. It’s done. The movers just packed up the
last of my stuff. I'll be on the way to the airport shortly. The movers will be putting all my stuff in
storage right outside of the city until I decide what I want to do with it. Maybe once I’m settled in
Italy and get a place of my own, I’ll have it shipped over.”
“You know there’s no hurry. You can stay with us as long as you like. Lucas has a great estate in
Italy along with others in the States and abroad. We’re not even there that much.”
That’s kind of her, but I plan on making my own way. “Thank you, Embry. I really appreciate all
that you have both done to make this transition possible. I’ll find a place of my own quick.”
“Tansia, we’re family. You can stay as long as you need to or want. I already found you a job. If
it's not what you want long term, no problem, but it pays well. Everyone who works at Descallia gets
paid well."
“The vampire club you talk about?”
I can just picture my cousin’s narrowed eyes, as I absorb the brief silence on the other end of the
line. “It's a mixed club. Everyone is welcome at Descallia's, except for witches. Absolutely no
witches; well, except for one. She’s one of us technically, though.”
My eyes roll, and I’m glad she can’t see me. “It’s not an easy establishment to get work at, unless
of course, you know someone. And I just happen to know the right people. You'll have to sign a non-
disclosure agreement, though. What you see and hear at the club, it’s family business, and it doesn't
leave the club; know what I mean?”
My eyes go wide. My cousin and I may be as thick as thieves, but she didn’t tell me she was
working for a bunch of criminals. “What’s the job? Are they into illegal stuff? I'm not getting into
anything illegal, am I?”
She laughs. “One question at a time. No, nothing like that, but they also don't want you talking to
anyone about what goes on behind their walls, especially in the lower level.”
“Ahh, the sex club you were telling me about. Wait, what kind of job did you get me? I'm not
taking off my clothes either! This body is not in any shape for that, and we both know I dance like I
have two left feet.”
Embry laughs. "You have a body that most of us would kill for. That long slinky waist and killer
boobs. But no, the job is nothing like that. You’ll be serving drinks and waiting tables, until you
decide what it is that you want to do.”
I suck in a deep breath. This, I can do. “Thanks, Embry. I needed to hear your voice after a day
like today. This is exactly what I need. A new start, in a fresh place. You know it's been a year last
week since we broke up but to everyone, we’re still a couple. They think we're a thing, that we're
going to get back together. He still has everyone in this town eating out of the palm of his hand, and
everything in this apartment seems to remind me of him. It’s time to move on.”
Embry's quiet on the other line. "I love you, Tansia, and can't wait to see you. Call me when you
get to town. I’ll have a car pick you up and bring you straight to the club. A group of us will be
meeting there again tonight to go over a few things. We’ve been working on organizing an assignment.
I can’t really talk about it on the phone, but I’ll give you the 4-1-1 when you get here.”
I get into my car and head to the airport. The excitement of a trip across the ocean on a private jet,
courtesy of my cousin and her vampire friends, and the thought of a new start on life courses through
my veins.

THE MINUTE EMBRY sees me walk into the club, her purple eyes flash and she smiles brightly,
quickening her pace with Lucas on her heels. My cousin throws her arms around me and hugs me
tight. "I am so happy you're here, Tansia. I was just telling Lucas about all the things we need to catch
up on."
Lucas smiles at Embry and then extends a hand to me. "Good to see you again, Tansia. We were
glad you could make it to see Embry’s ceremony, but it was so crowded we barely had any time to
visit with our friends and family.”
I shake his hand. “It was an impressive event. I've never been to anything like that.” Embry puts a
finger to her lip and lowers her voice. “Remember to keep the fact that Lucianna gave me a ticket for
you to ourselves. We're really only supposed to give them out to vampires, without the approval of the
masters of the consulate. They don’t take too kindly to being kept out of the loop, especially right now
with everything going on.”
Embry hasn’t changed a bit. Her long hair is still bright purple to match the color of her eyes, and
she’s still showing off that dangly belly button ring with her short sweater and skirt. “I am so glad you
took this job,” she gushes. “You will seriously love everything about working here. All the employees
of the Descallia Resorts and Clubs are taken care of like family.” She squeezes my hand. “It will give
you the fresh start you need. I promise!”
Lucas leads the two of us back to a table and introduces me to the group. Embry pats the empty
seat between hers and one taken by a dark-haired vampire with penetrating pitch-black eyes.
Overmaster Descallia has an arm around Lucianna, and he gives me a curt nod from across the table.
“Glad you had a safe trip.”
“Thank you so much for letting me come over on the Descallia jet. I’ve never flown in a private
jet before. I’ll be spoiled for life,” I tell him and Lucianna.
Lucianna smiles brightly at me. “We’re glad you had a nice trip. Embry has been talking about
nothing else since you decided to come.”
Embry continues introducing me to the others. When she gets to the dark haired male next to me,
he barely looks up. “This is Master Calabrea,” she says.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell him, although, I’m not really sure if that’s true.
His dark eyes take me in and then dismiss me as he picks a piece of lint from his dark suit jacket.
My eyes narrow at the arrogant prick. Master Vampire or not, he should have more manners than
that. He may have all the other vampiresses or whatever they’re called here at the club, swooning at
his feet, but I couldn’t give a rat’s ass who he is.
He’s just plain rude…
Master Calabrea feels the heat of my glare and looks up at me again as though I’ve disrupted
something more important than what he’s doing. His eyebrows lift sardonically, seemingly bored and
disinterested although the rims of his eyes redden as his glance trails down my body.
Yeah, not likely, asshole. Still, his eyes heat my skin, warm my insides, and cause my pulse to
race.
Lucas places his arm around Embry. He leans in close to ask her something. All she's ever wanted
is to be his and to be part of his world. He's the nicest vampire I've ever met, not that I've met that
many. Still, the stories about how they came to be, how they fought to get where they are in society,
and how they drink pure blood causes an involuntary shiver to snake down my spine. I’m genuinely
happy for the life she’s chosen, to be one of them, and to be his, but no thank you…
She and our gramma can have the vampires.... Especially a skirt-chasing vampire like the one
who can’t seem to keep his eyes in his head and off my boobs now that I’ve moved around to the other
side of the table and settled in.
I may be appreciative for the job and have a high regard for the vampires in the community, but
I’m not naïve. At least not anymore. That woman was left broken by a lying, deceitful, and scamming
man leaving me with the only gift he could, a healthy dose of mistrust and self-survival around the
opposite sex. Embry may have been totally obsessed with them, always wanting to hear more of the
bloody war stories from the time she was little, but not me.
Overmaster Descallia clears his throat. “Master Calabrea will be running point on a new
assignment. He, Lucianna, and I met here last night to identify some of the barriers and risks that we
want to avoid as we look for Isala.” He looks pointedly at me. “That’s where you can help.”
 He doesn’t seem to care that I have no idea what he’s talking about or why they plan to discuss
this in my presence.
Lucianna touches Overmaster Descallia’s hand, and he pauses mid-sentence as she gives me a
bright smile. “Tansia, I'm so glad you decided to move and come to work for us at The Descallia.
Embry has told us so many wonderful things about you and the skills you possess. The reason we
decided to meet tonight and include you is we have an offer to make.”
“An offer?” I look from her to Embry and then back to Lucianna.
Lucianna nods. "I know Embry is thrilled that you're in Italy now, and of course we're thrilled to
have you here.” She looks to Embry, and her eyes narrow in question. “You really didn’t tell her
anything?”
Embry gives her a swirl of her eyes, laughing as she looks between the two of us. “She was in
flight. I thought we could just spring it on her. Way more fun that way.”
I narrow my eyes at Emery, usually only half exasperated by my spirited cousin’s antics but more
so today as the dark eyes of the vampire master across the table bore into me. "Tell me what?"
Embry’s eyes swirl with mischief. “See, now Tansia is all settled in, and most importantly, she’s
had a little wine. I was just waiting for the right moment,” she tells Lucianna with a grin. I don’t think
Lucianna is enjoying the position she’s been put in while my cousin is enjoying keeping me in the dark
just a little too much.
Embry turns to me. “We have a job to do here in Italy. We’re trying to find someone, and there are
a multitude of languages. Master Calabrea is well versed in most, but not as familiar with others.
You’re a master in so many dialects, and we just thought…”
I inhale deeply, because getting to the point for Embry could take a while. She must see the look
of exasperation that I tried to hide. “We need a good translator, someone we trust. You know all the
languages and the culture of so many different countries. We were hoping you would help us, go with
us on the assignment. We can’t tell you too much about it right now, but you would be helping the
vampires with something very important. Something that would help all the factions, really, humans
too.”
Lucianna smiles and nods, taking a sip of her wine as her mate glares at me as though the few
seconds it’s taking to respond is testing whatever little patience he has.
Master Calabrea scowls, his jaw set firmly as he watches me struggle for an answer from his seat
next to mine.
His more than obvious disapproval fuels a less than well thought-out decision. “I know everything
there is to know about Italy and the surrounding countries, the cultures, and all of the dialects that are
often used from travelers not always from around these parts. I'd love to help with anything that you
need.” Lucianna lets out an internal sigh of relief as Overmaster Descallia gives me a half smile.
“Good,” he says, “then it is settled. We have a translator.”
Master Calabrea turns his dark red rimmed eyes to me. "You should consider this carefully. You
may have a very good understanding of the different languages, but there is danger in what we plan to
do and for anyone who plans to help us. Are you prepared for that?"
I swallow past the lump in my throat, kicking myself internally for the brash decision but bound
and determined not to let this asshole see it. He’s not going to intimidate me, no matter who he is or
how important his title is. “I wouldn’t have taken the job, otherwise. Are you prepared, Master
Calabrea?” I ask, ignoring his glower that sends heat coursing through my body and the grins from the
ladies around the table.
 Chapter

Three

L
ucianna tosses a knowing smile my way before Overmaster Descallia guides his mate away to
mingle with a couple who are sitting at the bar. I don’t miss the slight nudge of Embry’s elbow as
it pokes Lucas in the side either. “We should dance,” Embry says, giving Tansia wide eyes
before tugging Lucas onto the dance floor for a round of dancing before the meal is served.
A waitress stops at the table, saving me from an uncomfortable silence. "Would you care for a
drink?" I ask the impertinent young human who I now find myself completely alone with.
Her deep green eyes sparkle but her lips are pursed, clearly annoyed at being left alone with me
too. “A glass of red wine, please.”
I turn to the waitress. “A bottle of our best red, please.” When my gaze falls to Tansia, she’s
watching the stage. The female on stage stretches like a cat across the open stage, keeping her eyes
pointedly fixed on me.
I avert my gaze…
Always better not to give them any reason to think you’re interested. Otherwise, you will have a
tail for the rest of the evening, whether it’s welcome or not. Every female I meet these days seems to
smell the money and power that come with the master title.
Instead, I focus my attention on the insolent young woman sitting next to me.
Her eyes are bright green, an emerald color that almost glows. She wears a short black skirt, no
nylons, just smooth, creamy skin that goes on for miles, trailing down to sexy strappy black heels that
wrap around her delicate ankles and show off her polished red toes. My eyes travel back up, taking in
her tight waist and the white button-down shirt against the larger-than-average-sized breasts beneath
it.
Her heart-shaped lips are pursed when I reach her face. "Are you quite done, or should I stand up,
turn around, and bend over so you can examine my ass too?"
My eyebrows raise at her forwardness. I don't recall seeing her at Embry’s recent transition
ceremony, but yet there’s something about her that seems so familiar. I wouldn't have forgotten her, not
with those large wide emerald eyes, set so far apart and framed with dark lashes. The ones that
appear not to miss a thing, and all of that gorgeous red curly hair falling seductively around her
shoulders and trailing down to her breasts.
I ignore her question, as my cock presses against the seam of my pants because I’m hardly done at
all. I wonder what kind of reaction I would get if I told her, yes.
Her finger gently circles the rim of her wine glass, doing little to help my situation. “You owe me
an apology. I'm not a piece of meat. Embry’s told me about this place. There’s an entire playroom
downstairs where a variety of girls are at your beck and call. I'm not one of them. You should
remember that if we’re going to work together."
She stands and walks away, heading toward the restroom. I find myself alone at the table, annoyed
and admittedly intrigued by her blatant disregard for my position, watching her hair flounce and her
ass sway as she makes her way across the room atop those strappy high heels that I envision wrapped
around my neck.
Oh, sweetheart, if you're half as wild in bed...
Descallia and Lucianna return moments later, dragging my thoughts from the proverbial gutter. He
pulls out the chair for Lucianna. Our overmaster is a changed man since his mate has returned. She
and the vampire community are his entire world and anyone who hurts her, including her sister, will
see the wrath the likes of which they will never survive, regardless of whether he wants her returned
to him alive or not.
Overmaster Descallia clears his throat. “While we’re alone, Calabrea. The rest of the special ops
team is on their way. What I neglected to mention yesterday is that Embry was made part of that group
not long ago. She has exceptional skills in combat. She’ll be working with our team in that capacity. I
didn’t include her when we met with Lucianna here yesterday because Lucianna had not yet had a
chance to speak with her about it.”
My eyes narrow, watching the little wisp of a woman with purple hair laughing up at Lucas on the
dance floor, shaking her ass and acting a fool. I scowl… It wasn’t enough to meet with him last night
and get told that others would be joining the assignment in my region, but now he loads me with both
Embry and Tansia? “No disrespect, but I didn’t think babysitting was part of the job.”
His keen dark eyes don’t waver. “She’s earned her place on the team, Calabrea. Her skills are
exceptional. Having the special ops team will allow you to focus on leading the group and finding
Isala. And, to clear the air about last night. I’ve shared my plan to have Isala taken alive with
Lucianna. She knew we were conspiring the minute she walked in the door,” he says, half smiling at
his mate whose eyes begin to glow.
“I thought we were strategizing," I say, swirling the rest of the Descallia Red in the bottom of my
wine glass. Giving her a smile, having not quite figured out how I feel about the special powers of
sight she has, allowing her into not only the minds of those she cares about but far into the future.
“Speaking of strategizing.” I gesture to Roman, the new syndicate don who’s just walked in the door
with Master Trentino and Angel. “We’re still planning to let Roman join us in the hunt for Isala? You
know he’s going to want to focus on the men at the top of the syndicate pulling the strings, because
those are the same men who can remove him from his role if he doesn’t toe the line.”
"To be certain," Master Descallia says, swirling his red. "You know what they say—keep your
enemies close, right?"
I grin and nod, thankful that Descallia hasn't succumbed to the whole syndicate playing nice with
us bunch of crap that I thought Roman had pulled over on our leader.
The three of them arrive at our table, and Trentino holds a seat for his mate, Angel. Roman grabs
an extra chair from another table and sits next Angel, giving his sister a sitting hug.
Far too much playing nice if you ask me. “A Descallia Red for everyone. Oh, perhaps a regular
wine or even a beer for Roman?" I tell the waitress, not caring two fucks that it earns me a raised
eyebrow from the syndicate don.
The waitress leaves the table to fill our order just as Embry and Lucas return, and everyone is
introduced to our newcomer. I turn back to find Roman watching the myriad of expressions play over
Tansia’s features as she talks quietly with the ladies who are asking her questions about her recent
travels.
 His eyes roam Tansia’s body from head to toe. My chest pumps blood at an unsettling pace,
watching Roman who’s only recently taken over the reins of the syndicate, while he feasts on Embry’s
cousin with greedy eyes.
Roman must feel the heat of my gaze.
He pulls his eyes away from Tansia and looks to Descallia and then me. "Perhaps we should get
down to business. I spoke with my men out in the field just before coming here tonight. They tell me
they've followed the rogue shifters back to a mansion near the coast." He looks at me pointedly before
continuing. “Apparently it’s not far from your estate.”
I nod. "That should make it easy. We'll plan to use my estate as headquarters then, unless there's
any objection.”
Descallia shakes his head. “You've got the perfect view, with the ability to see the fuckers coming
a mile away from the top of that hill, plenty of lords and vampires on patrol, as well as townspeople
who respect you and who could be called on within a moment's notice. It’s a good plan.”
He looks at Roman. "Where are the syndicate elders in this? Some of them, too, have estates and
headquarters in the most southern parts of Italy? Have you had a chance to speak with them, get a feel
for their positions? They’re not going to be able to remain neutral in this for long. A war between the
factions is coming. Unless we can stop the rogues, the syndicate elders are going to need to take a
side.”
Roman glances around the club and lowers his head. "A meeting has been called of the elders.
There holding it back in Chicago, along with a few other families. I’ll know if I’m still don after this
plays out. They believe my sister’s situation and her relationship with Master Trentino bias my ability
to govern the family.”
“They have no idea how hard you work to keep the two separate, Roman,” Angel says.
Master Trentino nods. “I have to say, I wasn’t sure how you would do it either, but you’ve only
aligned with us fully when it was in the best interest of both groups to do so. I’ve been impressed
with your ability to keep things separate, while not taking your eye from your job.”
Roman takes a drink of his wine. “I appreciate the vote of confidence”—he looks at Overmaster
Descallia—“and the support, but we both know, if they make that decision, they’ll have taken those
things into consideration.”
Overmaster Descallia growls. “If a war is what the syndicate wants, then it is what they shall
have.”
Lucianna’s hand snakes down Overmaster Descallia’s arm and entwines with his. “Hopefully it
won’t come to that,” she says gently.
Overmaster Descallia scowls. “If they remove you, they’ll need to deal with me. They may not
answer to the vampires, but they sure as hell won’t want to lose all the territory. In addition, we’ve
given them discounts on product that we control. You help Master Calabrea and the special ops team,
and Tansia of course. Help us find Isala and when this is all over, we’re going to ensure you’re still
presiding don. We may not see eye to eye on all things, and I doubt we ever will, but we both want to
ensure there is not an outright war.
Roman nods. He tips his wine glass, and everyone does, likewise, toasting to a plan that helps
pave the way to our future, one that leaves us in bed with the fucking syndicate.
I don’t know that Roman is a good man or that partnering with him doesn’t just simply win the
approval of both the humans and most of the vampires because he and Descallia are known. But
whatever Descallia has up his sleeve, hopefully leads us to the ones at the top of the syndicate who
are helping conspire with Isala, but at least we’re all clear now what the immediate objective is.
 Isala is the priority.
Take her alive and bring her to Overmaster Descallia, trust a bunch of people I barely know with
my life, and babysit the two females who are laughing and talking amongst themselves like
schoolgirls.
My jaw locks tight…
Tansia’s head turns as if drawn to my thoughts. Her deep jade eyes focus on mine, mesmerizing
me with their intensity.
Ice queen.
Her eyes flash, her lips purse, and I brace myself for an onslaught of her sassy but hot little
tongue.
 Chapter

Four

T
he master vampire looks at me with disdain. It’s as though he's just been given the worst news in
the world. Well, I'm not that thrilled to be spending more time with the arrogant prick myself but
helping my cousin, yes. I would do anything for her, and I’m not going to let the grumpy vampire
stand in my way.
I glance at the syndicate don as he interacts with Overmaster Descallia. He seems cool, calm, and
collected. He tugs at the white shirt below his suit every once in a while, as his piercing eyes scan the
room.
The heat of Master Calabrea's eyes constantly warms my skin, my focus gravitating toward him as
though magnetically drawn.
My eyes rake over Master Calabrea. The blood in my veins thrums as his eyes redden around the
rims, heating my insides with the lust of his look.
I avert my eyes…
Under no condition do I plan to be taken in by mister dark and good-looking master vampire who
looks at me as though I may be his next meal. Embry may have her heart set on Lucas and a vampire
life, but that's where she and I differ. I'll take someone who doesn't want to snack on me in the middle
of the night, thank you very much. And after the last breakup a year ago, I'll take hanging out with
friends over a serious relationship any day.
The intensity of his eyes on my skin does not waver, causing my blood to race. I swallow down
the tongue lashing he deserves because getting into it with him could be nothing but trouble. I have a
job to do, and it’s not playing kiss or tell, or anything else with the handsome vampire master.
Embry turns my way and begins talking about the city and all there is to do. Shopping, restaurants,
and gazillion tours we can take. After a while my nerves begin to settle and my blood begins to calm.
The sultry blonde from the stage who was making googly eyes at Master Calabrea earlier prowls
over to the table. She places her hand on his shoulder, letting her long red fingernails stroke his chest
while keeping her eyes pointedly fixed on me. “Master Calabrea, so good to see you in the club. I’m
on for another set in about an hour. Perhaps you’ll still be here when I finish?”
He turns to look into her eyes. “Only a business trip this time, I’m afraid, Sierra.”
Her jet-black eyes redden around the perimeter, and her fangs descend as she glares at me. Embry
smirks at me, while the vampiress gushes about seeing him next time he comes into the club before
she moves on.
Embry leans over to me and whispers, “Sierra would like to rip you to pieces with those claws
and fangs of hers about now. She’s had her sights on Master Calabrea for a very long time.”
I glance over at Calabrea. He’s already engaged in a serious conversation with the other masters.
“Is it mutual?” I ask, only out of curiosity and nothing else.
She grins. “Well, he is male. I’m sure he’s taken advantage of her generous spirit a time or two,”
she says.
I watch Sierra as the sexy vampiress makes her way to the bar, still dressed in nothing but little
bits of skimpy material she’s placed around her nudeness. The male eyes track her sultry movements
as she sways across the floor. “It’s true what they say. Males think with their dicks. Who needs
them?” I ask.
Embry’s eyes soften. “One day you’re going to find someone worthy of you, who you can actually
trust. I promise.”
I swallow down a retort. “Probably not in this lifetime. I need to run to the ladies room,” I
whisper, looking around for a sign.
Everyone around the table is deep in conversation. She gestures toward the back of the lounge, in
the far-right corner. “I’ll come with you,” Embry says. No one looks up as we excuse ourselves from
the table, but I can feel a pair of searing eyes heating my skin as we make our way through the club.
I don’t need eyes in the back of my head to know who’s watching me. Like it or not, that vampire
has a way of making me feel his presence right through my core.
Embry takes the first stall in the otherwise empty bathroom. I pull a compact from my purse, and
dab a little powder around my cheeks, before rummaging around to find my lipstick which is where it
always is, at the bottom of my purse.
The door opens, and I glance up.
Sierra’s fangs are descended as she walks in and closes the door behind her. She doesn’t waste a
moment or play coy. She hovers across the room, right into my face, her breath hot and smelling of
alcohol tinged with a scent I don’t even recognize.
I swallow down maybe a little repulsion. The smell of blood, no doubt, and she looks like she’s
out for mine.
She doesn’t give me any kind of warning before striking out with those claws.
I was prepared for that far before the attack. I block her hand with mine with the strength of years
of martial arts training. The nails from her other hand catch the side of my face. I wince in pain and
twist her arm harder, pushing it up and back until she cries out with pain, before smashing her in the
chin with my other elbow.
She lets out an angry high-pitched squeal and licks her scarlet painted lips, which are now red
with her own blood, no doubt readying herself for another round.
My stance is strong, prepared for another onslaught even while trying to stave it off. “You come
near me again, and next time I’ll break your arm and your jaw. Those were just warnings. I have no
beef with you. Stay away from me.”
Embry steps out of the stall, her eyes blazing purple and her fangs fully descended. My cousin is
ready to jump into this cat fight if needed, but I’ve never needed someone to fight my battles, and I
don’t need it now.
Sierra’s eyes flash at Embry. “You side with human trash?”
Embry growls, something I’ve never heard from her before. “That human has more soul than
you’ll ever have. She doesn’t have eyes on Master Calabrea, but from what I saw he doesn’t have
eyes for you either. Get over it and move on, Sierra. There are more than enough males out there who
would love to rub their dicks all over a skank like you.”
Sierra’s eyes blaze red with anger. “You’ll pay for that. You’re not even a pureblood. The masters
are letting anyone into our community these days.” She turns on a pair of stilted high heels and stalks
out the door.
I dab my face with a wetted paper towel and then try to tame down the flaming red line across my
cheek with more face powder. “Superficial. You won’t even see it in a few days,” I tell Embry. “Are
all you vampires this territorial?” I ask, trying to erase the worry from my cousin’s face as she stands
watching me in the mirror.
She grins. “We can be. If someone even looks at Lucas, I’m ready to throw down.”
I put my lipstick on while Embry washes up at the sink. “Remind me to steer clear of miss thing.
Welcome to vampire land,” I joke.
Embry tucks her own lipstick back in her purse and frowns as she looks at me in the mirror. “You
need to take something like this seriously. She may come after you again. I know you’re well versed
in martial arts, but vampires, we have instinct on our side. It’s like we can anticipate every single
move before you make it. It’s hard to explain. It’s like a hyper sixth sense that I never had when I was
human.”
I don’t discount the warning, because I’ve never been in combat with anyone but humans, but still,
the same training should apply. “Hopefully the horny one has found some poor unsuspecting vampire
to sync her fangs into,” I tell my cousin as we make our way from the bathroom back to the table.
Master Calabrea’s eyes narrow the minute he spots the scratch I tried to cover up. “What
happened?” He’s looking at me, but Embry answers.
Her eyes flash, and the purple colors all swirl together. “Sierra is in heat. She caught Tansia in the
bathroom. You need to keep a leash on your playthings after you discard them or protect unsuspecting
woman like Tansia.”
He doesn’t answer Embry, instead turning his full attention to me. “You tangled with Sierra and
came out with a mere scratch. Did you need me to protect you?” Calabrea asks with a raised
eyebrow.
The blood in my veins races with a myriad of emotions, embarrassed at attention being called to
the little bathroom incident. Acting as though it’s not his fault the fight began in the first place, and I
can certainly take care of myself. Damn Embry and her big mouth all to hell.
His eyes flash, drawing my full attention back to him, but I don’t intend to avert my gaze or hold
my tongue this time.
 Chapter

Five

T
ansia doesn't answer my question at first, but her eyes narrow to slits as though I've somehow
challenged her in a way that wasn't intended.
Her jade eyes bore into me. “I don't know how much Embry has told you about me, but not
only am I fluent in a multitude of different languages and countless dialects, but I can take care of
myself when I need to," she says, her eyes flashing in defiance.
Lucianna, always trying to keep the peace, takes a sip of the Descallia Red that's been placed in
front of her. "Tansia is a master in the martial arts, just like Isala," she says.
My eyes narrow at her slight frame. “She can't be more than five-five and a half or a hundred and
ten pounds soaking wet.” I regret saying the words out loud as soon as they come out of my mouth.
They weren’t intended as an insult, but Tansia’s eyes go wide with indignation.
I should say something, but the jade eyes glaring at me entrances me, curiosity taking over to find
out how she’ll react.
She’s not given the chance, though. Instead, Embry intervenes on her behalf. "Don't let her size
fool you, and no disrespect, but she can probably kick some of you masters all over this place."
Embry laughs as Descallia's eyebrows raise, and Lucianna hides a grin.
I can’t say I’m not intrigued by the young woman who couldn’t care less about my title and causes
my dick to heat, but she hardly looks like a warrior to me. "Is that right?” I tell Embry, well aware the
others around the table are curiously tuned in. "Well, perhaps your cousin would like to go a few
rounds in the gym? I could always use a good sparring partner," I tell Embry, but watching as Tansia's
creamy cheeks heat with color.
Those jade eyes spark with the challenge, while my dick throbs at the thought of her below me on
the mat.
She shrugs. "Sorry to disappoint you, but my partners are usually much larger than you and trained
in martial arts. I have a responsibility to those less experienced not to use my skill against them. I
wouldn’t want anyone left hurt on the mats."
Embry licks a finger and sticks it in the air. "Score one for team Tansia," she says, standing from
her chair to spin around in her shortie boots and little skirt.
Lucas tries unsuccessfully to keep a straight face at the antics of his young charge. He may find her
insolence humorous, but I do not. Master Descallia scowls at Embry and then looks to his mate.
Lucianna’s eyes glow bright green as though lit up by whatever he said, although not one word leaves
his lips. “I agree," she says, nodding thoughtfully.
Embry rolls her eyes dramatically as she sits back down. "Agree with what? You do remember
not all of us are telepathic"—she gestures between Overmaster Descallia and Lucianna—“or
whatever you want to call that thing you two do that none of the rest of us can hear.”
Lucianna grins, but then turns serious. "Roman got a call while you two were having fun with
Sierra in the bathroom. The rogue shifters have grown in numbers and have split up into at least four
groups, all heading different directions. Roman’s people think they’re dispersing from the pack,
playing shell games to try to throw us off the scent and get Isala to safety. We need to do the same;
split up and find her before more innocents are sucked into her evil little web.”
Finally, we’re going to get down to business. “I’ll connect with a few of my sources and leaders
in the territory right away,” I assure the group, finishing my drink for the night. My patience has grown
weary of planning, and it’s time for action.
“Master Calabrea knows this territory better than anyone. Hopefully with Tansia’s translation help
you can learn something that no one would tell the rest of us,” Lucianna says.
I hardly think the snip of a woman is going to help me get information out of people I’ve known
for centuries, but if babysitting is what they want, far be it from me to spoil their plans.
Overmaster Descallia is not usually one for patience either. Why he feels so strongly about this
planning and special operations team is beyond me. Other than we can’t trust our own. He looks to me
and then to Tansia. "You'll go ahead with Calabrea. I want you to partner with him and learn where
they’ve taken Isala. The best chance we have of getting real time, on the ground intel, is to have you
two working together on the streets.”
I start to interject, but the flash of his eyes leaves no room for argument. “Until Isala is safely
secured in my warehouse with no chance of escape this time, the two of you"—he gestures between
Tansia and I—"are inseparable."
My jaw locks tight with even greater irritation at being slowed down first with all the planning
and gathering of all these people. Certainly myself and a couple trusted warriors could have gained
much more ground than we have at this point. Overmaster Descallia is a fearless, fair, and just leader
who would never typically spend this much time between learning the location of the enemies last
spotting and setting the troupes on their way.
The looks that keep flashing between he and his mate, tells me there is far more to the story than
the members at this table really know. I glance at Tansia, who looks up and meets my eyes. I hope
she’s ready for a shit show of the most proportional levels because I’m afraid that’s exactly what
we’re walking into.
She doesn’t look frightened, though. If the scratch on her cheek is the only thing she walked away
with from a fight with Sierra, Tansia’s martial arts skills must be far better than I presumed. This is
good because she’s going to need every bit of that training when going up against factions in the
underworld.
I give a nod to Overmaster Descallia. “Let’s get the rest of the assignments laid out and go find
that traitorous bitch before she has a chance to disappear in the wind again.”
 Chapter

Six

M
y mouth gapes at Overmaster Descallia’s order. Being paired with the arrogant vampire
master for just a short while to translate was bad enough, now he wants us together until we
find Isala. Holy hell. That could be days, weeks even. I start to say something, but the look on
the vampire Overmaster’s face causes me to hold my tongue initially.
Embry's eyes swirl with emotion, though. She looks like she's going to blast Overmaster
Descallia, but one slight shake of the head from Lucianna and she keeps it to herself. We all know
Embry's never been known for keeping her mouth shut. I highly doubt she's about to start now, at least
for very long, but for now she pacifies her friend.
Hanging out in Italy and helping them find this Isala while I get my head back into living again is
far from the worst thing that could have happened. However, being glued to the Master Vampire who
sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine, and heat to my core—that I'm not so sure about.
The angst of being alone with the powerfully muscled vampire with intense eyes wins over.
“Master Calabrea knows the people well enough to deal with them without me. Perhaps I would be of
better assistance to those of you not as familiar with the area?”
Overmaster considers what I’ve said for a minute. Probably just long enough to dismiss it. “The
fact that Master Calabrea knows many so well could work against us too. Go with him, listen for
things that may clue you into deceit and dishonesty. I’ve been on the receiving end of having more
people than I’d like to admit betray me without a clue until their plan has launched.”
Lucianna and Embry both nod their heads in agreement.
“Our emotions get in the way. We discount things from people we know that should make us leery
or question, but instead we make up reasons why our instincts can’t be right. No, we will divide and
conquer and regroup when we know where Isala is. Until that time, you will be in good hands with
Master Calabrea."
I give Embry wide eyes. So much for negotiating with the vampire.
At least he actually listened and didn’t bite my head off for questioning his plan. But spending
time alone with Master Calabrea is not what I had in mind when I signed up for this job, and I’m not
easily dissuaded. “At least Embry should stay with us too?” I ask.
Before anyone can answer, a half drunken man stumbles toward me and almost topples into my
chair. I stand to steady my chair and brush hands with Calabrea who already has the back of it and his
other on my lower back to prevent me from toppling. "Hey, honey,” the guy slurs. “You gonna stand
here and yammer all night with these blood suckers or get me another whiskey?"
I glance around the table, unsure why I’ve been singled out except for the black color of my dress.
I may not work for the club in the waitstaff capacity, but surely disrespect like that from or about
anyone shouldn’t be tolerated. Either way, I’m not putting up with it. "I think you've had more than
enough to drink tonight. Maybe you should just head home and sleep it off."
The leering bastard glares at me through bloodshot eyes and then with no warning lunges at me. I
step back and into the hard wall of Calabrea’s core. The man trips on my chair, causing it to bump
into the table and spill wine from the glasses onto the fine white linen tablecloth.
Overmaster Descallia growls so loud it makes glasses on other tables throughout the club shake
and the lecher leering at me with bloodshot eyes wide open scared. As he should be.
Master Calabrea places an arm around me, having me take his chair while he deals with the man
who’s had way too many drinks for anyone’s good. "Come with me," he says to the man. "You'd do
well to leave now before you've caused any more trouble."
He spins and tries to pull from Calabrea. "I'm not going anywhere just because some fucking
vampire told me to,” he slurs, causing eyes from other patrons to return to our table.
Calabrea takes his arm and hoists it behind his back, grabbing his other and half pushes and half
walks him toward the exit. It’s hard not to take my eyes off his tall and panther like frame from
behind. He strides like a well-muscled machine underneath the custom-tailored suit he wears.
When he returns, he takes my seat and turns to me. “Do you know him?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
Lucas gestures to the large vampires positioned at multiple positions around all the exits. “They
shouldn’t have been told to get him out of here. I’ll have a talk with them later tonight.”
Overmaster nods. “Good. Embry and Lucas, you’ll team up with Silver. Trentino, Angel, you can
work with Romano tracing down any leads he gets from his people. Clay and Terrence will be on the
ready for anyone who needs them initially, but I’ve spoken with Master Calabrea about their skills,
and he’ll plan to utilize them when he feels their help is needed.”
“I’ve got their numbers, and the minute we learn the direction we’re going I’ll give them a call,”
he says, but the squared-off angle of his jaw doesn’t look like he’s very pleased with the idea at all,
although he gives the table a nod of agreement.
Overmaster Descallia continues looking around and lowers his voice. “Lucianna and I will work
with our contacts. Remember, they’re running shell games. The ones that want you to follow them
won’t make it difficult. The ones who have Isala will do anything and everything to evade you.
Marcus will send you the coordinates of the last sightings of each of the rogue teams. Any questions?”
He turns to Calabrea. "Get her home, pack light, and keep her with you at all times. I don’t want
her or any one of our people by themselves. Isala has to be close if they’re putting this much energy
into the game.”
I have no idea how I've managed to get myself into this mess. All of a sudden, things that I didn’t
sign up for sound way more involved in the vampire business than I want or need to be part of. “Look,
I really appreciate your generosity and the offer of the job as translator, but surely Calabrea can do
this on his own. I mean, if he runs the region, certainly, he can speak to the locals.
Overmaster Descallia’s eyes go red, clearly his patience at the end, but Lucianna places a hand on
his arm and turns to me. "There's more than locals involved, Tansia. The Vade Mecum tells us that the
rogues will come, and with them they'll bring traitors from all factions. That's exactly what's
happening now. They are recruiting shifters, witches, syndicate members and others, all with the goal
of destroying the world the vampires have built.
“A safe world for humans.
“A world that doesn't include raids and bloody feasts on unsuspecting humans. A civilized world
where both vampires and humans live in harmony. Maybe it's not perfect, but it's pretty damn close.
We need your help, Tansia. This is bigger than us all. Help Calabrea, it is written in the Vade Mecum
that a woman with powers of sight, red ringlets, and crystal jade eyes will partner with a fierce and
noble vampire leader.
“I believe you and Calabrea are those two.”
My eyes grow wide. He may be a sexy as fuck vampire, but he's a vampire. “I don't even know
what a Vade Mecum is, and I don’t have powers of sight.”
She smiles, and her eyes do that green glowing thing. “All in good time, Tansia. For now, go with
Calabrea, stay by his side, and you will not fail. He will teach you about our ways.”
Teaching me about his ways is exactly what I’m afraid of, or drawn to…
 Chapter

Seven

H
ow this assignment got so messed up is beyond me. Now I need to play nice with the fucking
syndicate prick and babysit the curly haired creature whose body calls to mine on the most
primal of levels. Nothing but distractions on this mission.
Tansia’s heartbeat races and beats against the little tell-tale sign on her creamy looking neck. I
feel a tinge of guilt, and my thoughts soften.
It’s not her fault that Overmaster and Lucianna are set in their opinions about the two of us
working together. If the Vade Mecum says it, then I’ll support whatever I have to do with her. She
tried to get us out of it. I put my hand on her shoulder. "Let's go, Tansia."
Embry gives her cousin a tight hug. "We'll be there as soon as we can. Be careful, and stay with
Master Calabrea. He won't let any harm come to you." She narrows her eyes at me. “Right?"
None of us asked for this situation. Better to make the best of it, get through it, and then get on with
our lives. "Of course, Embry," I tell her, trying to hide the slight upturn of my lips as Lucas joins the
side of his spirited partner.
"But who will protect the mighty vampire from me?" Tansia asks so unexpectedly that the whole
table turns to look at her, almost causing me to laugh out loud.
Embry does laugh. "My cousin can kick some ass, so you better treat her right."
“We should go,” I tell Tansia. She gives her cousin another squeeze. Hopefully this won’t take
long, and we’ll be together again soon. “Stay close to Master Calabrea. All joking aside, he knows
this area well. He’ll steer you away from danger,” Embry says.
“I’ve had your driver bring in your bags and put them in the locker room of the employee
bathroom. Why don’t you get dressed in something like a pair of jeans and sensible shoes,” I tell
Tansia, guiding her toward the back of the employee side of the club.
Tansia’s eyebrows raise, and she gives me a smile that makes my dick throb. “While the mighty
vampire stays in his Armani suite?”
I smirk. I’d like nothing better than to help her with that particular task, right down to the lacy
little panties I envision she wears, but I don’t tell her that. We walk through the employee area and
into a large break room. “I have a locker here with extra clothes. I’ll be changed before you are,” I
tell her, gesturing to the men’s sign next to the ladies’.
“Shouldn't I at least let the boss know that I’m not going to be working at the club? Embry had a
job for me coordinated before the whole translation gig came up? When all the fun and games are
over, hopefully I’ll have a job that I can come back to,” she says.
Lucas is already speaking with the man who makes out the schedule for the club. "The manager
already knows he needs to fill your spot for a while. You won’t lose your spot while you’re working
for us.”
Tansia gives me an unsure look. “Okay, this time, hopefully I don’t have a run-in with one of your
exes.”
She didn't ask for any of this. It’s not her fault she was partnered with me. She can’t help that
Sierra is on the warpath. Although I probably could have prevented the whole thing by giving over to
Sierra’s way of thinking and make her my mate. Then she’d have status, power, and perhaps be happy,
and I would be miserable.
I give Tansia a wink as we reach separate doors. “Don't dawdle."
She narrows those lovely eyes at me. Her jade eyes flash annoyance, and her cupid shaped lips
purse. "Don't be such a high-handed ass, and we might just survive this ordeal," she tells me, pulling
her arm from my grasp, walking toward the bathroom in her tight black skirt and mesmerizing me with
the sway of her ass atop her strappy heels for the second time tonight.
I can’t help but grin walking through the men’s locker room door. Hopefully she won’t slow me
down too much when I meet with the lords, witch, and pack leaders who might be able to help us find
Isala.
Three knocks on the door in rapid succession draw my attention. It opens slightly. “Quit
dawdling,” Tansia says, before leaving me to finish changing and catch up to the sassy minx with
wide bright mischievous eyes.
Trouble with a capital T that one.
 Chapter

Eight

I
dip back into the dressing room to put my hair up since I have a few more minutes until he’s ready.
When I come back out of the dressing room, I feel the heat of Master Calabrea’s gaze on my body
from all the way across the room by the exit. My eyes are drawn to the powerful thighs encased in
snug fitting jeans, right down to the big black boots. He wears a long Henley that wraps his muscular
arms and a black leather jacket that looks well worn.
I should be downright annoyed that he’s managed to beat me back to the exit, even though I was
ready first. Instead, every neuron in my body is alive with the thought of how his hands felt on my
skin. Even the innocence of his touch caused ripples of heat to course through my veins. I can’t help
wondering what it would feel like if he intended to do more with those hands.
I watch the six foot something, powerful vampire master who’s already retrieved our coats from
the coat check. This magnetic attraction between the two of us can only lead to more trouble, but that
doesn’t make one bit of difference to my traitorous body. It craves his touch and anything else he
offers, because even the way he looks at me generates a sweet heat between my legs.
He watches me walk toward him as though he knows exactly what’s on my mind. Surely, he can’t?
He puts his hand on my lower back and then holds my coat for me to slide into. I swear it’s like a
million tingles of excitement slither down my spine and settle at my center.
Calabrea drapes the long dark wool coat he wore into the club on his arm, while I pull mine
around me tighter as we walk out of the club. The dampness and breeze from the ocean this far south
chills me to the bone even though the temperature is warmer than back home.
A black cape flies up from his body, gently floating on the breeze, pulling me close to the warmth
of his body as it wraps gently around us. His voice is husky and dark and sends a wave of desire
coursing through my blood. "Still, we're going to pay a visit to one of the witch leaders before we
head back to my estate. Close your eyes, and don't think about anything except the warmth of my body
next to yours.”
My cheeks heat with the forwardness of his words. My attraction to the big brute hasn’t gone
unnoticed. He wraps his arm tightly around my waist. There’s nothing I’d rather be thinking about
except his warmth as the cloak of darkness surrounds me.
I close my eyes, and when the hardness of the ground can no longer be felt, my arm snakes around
his waist purely out of survival instinct. He must have anticipated my fear, pulling me closer, the
cocoon of his cape holding me securely by his side.
My mind floats… It could be minutes or hours until the hardness of the ground can once again be
felt underneath my feet, and the warmth of the cape opens, and the cold air from the outside seeps in
around me.
Another random document with
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that it generally demands great trust and faith to see He is right; but when I
heard Jacob had given us that parcel of nice, sloping land under the
plantations, I said, 'Good!' I was glad for my husband, but I was still
gladder for Jacob, because we all know it's more blessed to give than
receive. We envy his power of giving and hope to be spared to practise it.
Meanwhile, to receive is very good discipline for my husband and me."

After supper Jacob and his father-in-law were left alone to discuss the
ground, and Barlow brought out the plans of the new house. He manifested
a larger sense of obligation than Judith; indeed he apologised for her.

"You mustn't take it in bad part," he said. "My wife has such an amazing
sense of what's right, and such a lofty idea of human duty, that it never
surprises her when people do good and kind things. It's a compliment to
human nature, in a way, that she can see such virtue displayed without
showing surprise. If you was a different sort of man, then, no doubt, she'd
have been struck dumb with wonder and hesitated to take the gift, fearing
some hidden motive for it; but with you it's all plain sailing and aboveboard
and in your character. You can't get a grape from a thorn, and if a thorn
offers you a grape, 'tis best to think twice before you taste it. And so, in a
word, the way my wife have taken this is really a compliment to you, and
between me and my valued son-in-law there's no question at all about the
gift hurting. In fact that's nonsense."

"You're a much cleverer man than you think you are, Barlow," answered
Jacob. "You're so often called upon to smooth places left rough by your
high-minded wife, that you do it like second nature. But it argues great
judgment and skill in you."

Mr. Huxam was pleased at this praise.

"I believe I am a clever man in my small way," he admitted. "Judy sees

it, too; but she's doubtful if it's a virtue or a vice. My best art is to get round
sharp corners. It's a very useful gift in a shop, and in life in general. For that
matter life itself is a shop, Jacob. We all bring our small wares to market,
and some get a purchaser and some never do. What think you of Jeremy's
new venture? He says it's been the dream of his life to have a fruit shop. But
he's said that before about everything that offered."
 "I envy him his skill to win people," answered Jacob; "and it's a good
thing he's got that skill, because he'll always want his fellow-creatures to
help him fall light."

"I'm afraid so. I understand him better than his mother, though don't you
repeat it. She reckons that once Jeremy's in his proper notch, we shall have
a very cheering experience; and she also knows that the virtuous man never
is called to beg his bread. That's all right; but Jeremy's gifts ain't the sort
that'll ever find butter. He's a very ornamental sort of person; but ornament
without usefulness is a vain thing."

Elsewhere Margery spoke with her mother and revealed a growing

interest.

"Have you ever thought upon Robert Elvin, Joe's son, at Owley?" she
asked.

"I have not," answered Judith. "Why should I think upon him? He
comes in sometimes, on errands for his mother or father. Civil spoken and a
good face."

"It will sound funny to your generation, but I reckon he's after Avis."

"They're children, Margery!"

"To you, yes; not quite to me; not at all to themselves. Bob is nearly
nineteen and has done a man's work for a couple of years now, and Avis—
she's old for her age too. She likes him."

"Chasten her then. She didn't ought to have an eye for a male for years
yet."

"It's all very pretty and natural. She can't help it, and she don't know in
the least what it means I expect. But he does. He's not a gadabout boy, or
fond of the girls—quite the contrary; but he'll often come over of a Sunday
to dinner now and—look at her. And Jacob likes him. He likes his nature. I
wouldn't say but that Bob Elvin suits him better, in a manner of speaking,
than his own sons."
 "If so, then a very wicked thing," answered Mrs. Huxam. "I trust you're
wrong, Margery, because that would show something in Jacob that's
contrary to religion. And when you see things contrary to religion, hope
dies. And if you tell me he looks at another man's son more favourable than
upon his own, then I little like it."

"It's nothing unnatural, mother. Bob's very quiet and attends to Jacob's
every word. John Henry and Peter don't listen to him as close as they might.
They're full of their own ideas; and Jacob doesn't pretend to be a farmer,
though, of course, he knows all about it really. But he lets John Henry run
on and never troubles much to contradict him. And Robert don't run on. He
listens and says but little. He's anxious above his age, with the cares of the
farm and a dying father. He's called to think of many things that my boys
haven't got to think about. We cheer him up."

"There's nothing whatever to cast him down about his father," answered
Judith. "That's a part of life we've all got to face; and if Joe Elvin is right
with Christ, then to see him getting daily nearer his reward should be a
good sight for a good son. It's only selfishness makes us mourn, just as half
the big, costly marble stones in the churchyard are stuck up to ourselves
rather than to the dead."

"Like will cleave to like, and his two sons aren't like Jacob very much.
He loves them dearly, mother, and is proud of them; but he don't care to see
any of us coming forward. He's sensitive and shrinking about his own. I
never shall understand all there is to him and I won't pretend it. One thing is
sure: he never wounds by intent, like most men do when they're angry. He
never is angry outside. He has a sort of cold anger; but you can't always tell
why, and he never lets you know why. Of course every man has got his own
difficulties and the side he hides from his wife."

"Not at all," answered her mother. "Many men hide nothing, for the very
good reason they've got nothing to hide; and many men hide nothing, for
the very good reason they can't. Look at your father. Would I have stood
secrets and 'cold anger' as you call it? I wouldn't stand hot anger, or any sort
of anger; because well I know that he's got nothing to be angry about. For
that matter to be angry at all is godless and means weak faith."
 Margery had sometimes considered the wisdom of confiding her
difficulties to Mrs. Huxam; but she had never done so. She was not proud
for herself, but still felt very proud for Jacob; and to confess the truth would
be to weaken him in her mother's eyes. In a sense she was glad that her
husband could be jealous of her, since she supposed that such an emotion
only existed in connection with very deep and passionate love; and if he had
long since ceased to give any outward signs of such a love, (by sacrificing
himself more to her reasonable tastes, for example) jealousy, she thought,
must none the less prove that fierce affection still existed unseen. She,
therefore, conscious of the baselessness of his error, troubled only
occasionally about it and was wholly ignorant of its extent, of its formidable
and invisible roots in his nature, ever twining and twisting deeper for their
food, and finding it in his own imagination alone. So she kept dumb
concerning her discomfort, and indeed, disregarded it, save at the fitful
intervals when it was made manifest before her eyes. And she erred in
supposing these almost childish irruptions sprang from no deep central
flame. To her they were in a measure absurd, because she knew that they
were founded upon nothing; but her error lay in ignorance of origins: she
had never glimpsed the secret edifice that her husband had built—a house
of dreams, but a house solid and real and full of awful shadows for him.

They walked home together presently and Margery told Jacob how
greatly he had pleased her father.

"I know him so well," she said. "It moved him a great deal."

"It didn't move your mother, however."

"Yes it did; but you understand her way of looking at things—at

everything that comes along."

"What did you think of the land regarded as discipline for them?"

"I thought it rather fine," said Margery. "It was so like mother. We can't
appreciate the high, unchanging line she takes. It doesn't surprise her when
men do generous things, any more than it surprises her when they do
wicked things. That's her knowledge of human nature. And the pluck of her!
How many are there who don't feel favours to be a bit of a nuisance; and
how many have the courage to say so frankly?"

Jacob considered this.

"Wouldn't you have felt just the same, even if you weren't stern enough
to say it?" she asked.

"Yes—I suppose I should."

"You may have the chance some day and find yourself in debt for
gratitude."

"Gratitude should not be difficult, however."

"Why, I've heard you say yourself it's a terrible rare virtue! And you
know, for no kind man has laid people under obligations oftener than you."

"I've never asked gratitude, Margery. The pleasure lies in doing a good
turn."

"Very well then," she answered. "Remember your pleasure may be a

sort of one-sided pain to the other party. Only with some people, of course.
Some clatter enough gratitude I'm sure; but often the most grateful hide it.
Mother's grateful enough. She knows what men can rise to, but she also
knows how seldom they do. She never denies praise in the right quarter.
Though she may not thank you, she'll thank God hearty enough, and no
doubt say a prayer on your account also. The Chosen Few may not know
everything there is to know; but they know it's difficult to be as generous as
you; and when things like that happen, it cheers them, and they praise the
Lord for letting His Light shine out so clear in a fellow-creature."

This pleased Jacob and he accepted it.

"Very good, Margery," he said. "I'm glad you said that. I thought
something different. I thought gratitude depends on the giver as much as the
gift, and I reckoned, because your mother doesn't like me, that she didn't
like the land. But I see clearer now and have got you to thank."
 "Mother does like most of you," answered his wife, "She likes you quite
as well as you like her, Jacob."

Then they fell silent and his momentary warmth faded.

CHAPTER X

AFTER THE HOLIDAY

Chance is half-sister to destiny, and though her patterns appear less

orbicular and complete, yet seen in the fulness of their weaving, from a
standpoint sufficiently detached, they are often as inexorable and
consummate. As Jeremy built designs with his apples and oranges; as Jacob
built the ideal Bullstone terrier, working year after year with canine flesh
and blood to attain the ideal; so chance, operating upon his temperament,
defied its own slight name and wrought, with personal intention as it
seemed, rather than unconscious accident, for a definite object. Chance
appeared to exercise a malign ingenuity in finding substance. It was as
though an initial incident had opened the eyes of Moira, weaver of
destinies, and upon that trivial circumstance, she had elected to build the
edifice of Jacob's life, choosing only one fatal material for the fabric, to the
exclusion of others that might as reasonably have been selected.

The new year began; then, after a pause, wherein progress proceeded so
slowly that Bullstone was not aware of movement, a quickening period
followed. Thus he had always advanced—by jolts and thrusts forward—
never smoothly. But remission did not blunt the raw edges of incomplete
work; they were always ready to receive the next addition, when
reinforcement came to the ghostly builders.

With another summer, Margery's annual holiday to Plymouth returned.

It was Auna's year to accompany her mother, and when both were gone to
Mr. Lawrence Pulleyblank, Jacob speculated as to whether his wife, or his
youngest child left the larger gap in his life. He examined the problem and
decided that no comparison could be instituted, since each represented a
different plane of existence and a different field of emotional interest. But
though unable to pursue the problem through any rational argument, to
solve it was easy enough. His own soul told him that he missed Auna more
than her mother; because Auna was far nearer what Margery had been when
first he loved her, but could be no longer. Bullstone shared the usual rooted
conviction of the married, that their partners have mightily altered during
the years of united life. He assured himself that his own foundations were
exactly as of yore, and that still he stood for the same ideals and purposes. It
was Margery who had changed; Margery who had been blown away from
the old anchorage in his heart and now sailed other seas. But in Auna he
believed that he saw again exactly what his wife had been; in Auna he
perceived growing all that had made him fall in love with Margery. Thus
now he lived the more happily in her companionship. She was close to him
and she loved him with devotion; but his wife did not. She had gone afield.
He knew not how far off she had really wandered, but believed that the gap
between them continued to lengthen as the years passed; that her outlines
grew dimmer; that less and less she shared his days, more and more pursued
her own, where he possessed neither will nor power to follow. And she had
reached to a similar opinion concerning him.

Margery and Auna had been away a week, and Auna had already sent
her father two letters full of her adventures. Then Jacob happened to be
with Barton Gill, who was now reduced to milking the goats and doing
other tasks within his waning activity. For the present Avis, free of school
and not desirous to learn more that school could teach her, was exalted to
kennel-maid, a part she filled with enthusiasm.

Gill was grumbling as usual and expressing revolutionary doubts

concerning goats' milk for puppies. Peter had already dared to question its
supreme value and Barton, who thought highly of Peter's knowledge and
personally disliked the flock, began to wonder if the later wisdom might not
discover a substitute. Jacob, however, would not hear of any change.
 "Time you stopped altogether and took your ease, Barton, if you're
going to put Peter's opinions higher than your own experience," he said.
"Goats' milk was the first and best food for puppies long before my boy,
Peter, came into the world; and it will continue to be long after he goes out
of it, theories or no theories. The modern idea is to get the old, fine results
all round, with half the old, hard work; and, such a fool is man, that he
believes it can be done."

Then came Sammy Winter along the river path beside the kennels. He
peered in, tried the iron door and finding it locked, shouted to Jacob, who
stood within the yard. At his noise a dozen dogs barked and Bullstone
admitted him.

"Evening, Samuel. And how is it with you?" he asked. "Haven't seen

you this longful time."

"I be very nicely indeed," answered Sammy, "but our sheep-dog ban't;
and I should be most thankful if you would come over, or else Gill, and
look at his paw. He's drove something into it—a hob-nail I dare say; but he
won't let me look, and he yowls and shows his teeth if I offer for to touch
him."

Gill laughed.

"Fancy that now, Sammy—you, so bold as a hero with 'Turk,' as nobody

dursn't handle but you, and yet feared of a little thing like a sheep-dog. I
never would have believed it."

"You shut your head," answered the other. "You don't know nothing
better'n to milk goats. The dog's a devil-dog; and I'd have shot him long ago
if I'd had my way. But he's a terrible useful dog and if anything was to
overtake him such as death he'd be a cruel loss. And if you dare to say I be
frightened, Barton Gill, I'll be revenged against you some of these days."

Samuel was easily moved and could never stand the mildest jest against
himself, or his brother. He glowered at Gill and his jaw worked.
 "Don't cry about it," said Jacob kindly. "We've all got our likes and
dislikes, Samuel. I wouldn't handle bees for the world, yet you can go
among them and take the honey, brave as a bear. We're all frighted at some
thing—if it's only our poor selves."

"'Tis a devil-dog, I tell you," repeated Sammy, "and 'Turk' hates him as
much as me."

"Well I don't fear him. But can't Adam tackle him?"

"Yes he can. Adam's got the whip-hand of him, I grant. But Adam ain't
there. He's gone away."

"Gone away—where?" asked Bullstone. "It isn't often your brother

takes a holiday." A proleptic throb went through him. He felt that he knew
Samuel's answer before he made it. And he was right.

"To Plymouth, after calves. Some proper calves he've bought off a man;
and he's bringing 'em home by rail on Tuesday; and if I ban't at the station
with this damned dog, I don't rightly know what might happen."

Bullstone was silent for a few moments, then he returned to the present.

"Come on," he said abruptly, and going to a little chamber at the

kennels, collected a pair of gloves, one or two instruments and a bottle of
healing lotion. These he put into his pocket and set off to Shipley Farm
beside Samuel.

He asked concerning Adam's purchase of calves, but the other only

knew that they would arrive early the following week and must be met.

The patient—a great, high-sterned English sheep-dog, with touzled head

and bright eyes, one of which was blue, the other green—showed no temper
to Bullstone, but he harboured private grudges against Samuel, who had
been cruel to him in secret, and he probably associated his present misery
with the enemy. Jacob extracted a large splinter of wood from his paw and
dressed the wound, while the bob-tailed dog expressed nothing but well-
mannered gratitude and licked his face.
 "He'll be all right in twenty-four hours, Samuel. Shut him up till noon
to-morrow, so as he can't get running in the muck, and give him an extra
good supper," advised Bullstone. Amelia, who had witnessed the operation,
thanked her neighbour.

"And Adam will be properly grateful, I'm sure, when he hears tell of it.
A very friendly thing, and I never thought as you would come yourself."

"Your nephew's at Plymouth—eh? My wife and Auna are down there

with Mr. Pulleyblank," explained Jacob.

"To be sure. And I hope the sea air will do Margery good. She've looked
a thought pinnickin and weary to my eye of late. Too thin, Jacob."

"She always enjoys the change. I might go down for a day or so,
perhaps, and fetch her back."

"A very clever thought," declared Amelia; "and I've asked Adam to bide
there a few days, for he never takes a holiday and it will do him good and
rest him. So I hope he will bide."

Bullstone weighed every word of this conversation as he walked home,

and he lay awake till the dawn, oppressed—now striving to see nothing in
it, now confronted with visions that worked him into a sweat of doubt and
dismay. He determined to go to Plymouth. He laid his plans. Then he
banished the thought and decided against any such step. Auna had not
mentioned Adam Winter in her letters. He rose, lighted a candle, descended
and read them again, to be sure. They cast him down immeasurably,
because they mentioned that Auna had been on the sea for a long day with
her great-uncle; but her mother had not gone. Margery did not like the sea.
She had been free—planned to be free—of Auna and her uncle—for many
hours. And Winter was in Plymouth.

He returned to his bed and suffered a flood of desolate thoughts to flow

through his mind, till barn cocks were crowing against each other in the
grey of dawn. He got up, threw open his window and saw stars still hanging
over Shipley Tor. Then he returned to his bed again, and worn out, slept at
last. It wanted but five minutes to the breakfast hour when he awoke, then
dressed hurriedly and descended unshaved to his children.

He was very taciturn; but they did not notice that he kept a heavier
silence than usual and chattered among themselves.

"'Red Beauty's' got her puppies, father," said Avis. "Four."

"Good—good," he answered.

John Henry was going to Bullstone Farm for the day and meant to spend
some time with Bob Elvin at Owley also.

"Mother thought that when I went, I might take one of the ox tongues
she cured, for Mr. Elvin, because he can't let down his food very well
nowadays," said John Henry.

"An excellent notion," answered his father. "Be sure you remember it."

"And ask Bob if he's coming Sunday," said Avis.

John Henry laughed knowingly.

"No need to ask, I reckon. I'll tell him you've got a new hat, with a jay's
feather in it. He couldn't shoot a jay for you, but I did."

"I'll lay he'll shoot a jay when he's got time," answered Avis.

"'Got time,'" sneered John Henry. "If I was after a maiden, I'd make time
to shoot an elephant, if she wanted one."

They chattered and Avis was well pleased. Their talk drifted past Jacob
where he sat. They did not notice that he ate no breakfast.

Time dragged dreadfully for the man and a letter from his wife did not
shorten it. He half hoped that she would mention Winter; but Margery made
no allusion to the farmer; and Bullstone knew that if she had mentioned
him, he must still have read evil into the fact. He told himself that. Margery
could not have met with Winter by an accident in a place so large as
Plymouth. If she had met him, it was by design. He made himself believe
that they had not met. But he intended to be sure, though he would not ask
her. Margery's letter was frank enough and her time appeared to be fully
engaged. She was feeling better and stronger. She sent directions for home
and wrote of things to be told to the servant, to Avis and the boys. Auna was
enjoying herself and loved to be on the sea.

Adam Winter would be coming back on Tuesday, according to Samuel;

therefore Jacob invented a message for him and sent Peter to deliver it. But
he returned to say that Mr. Winter had not come home. The calves duly
arrived and were safe at Shipley; but Adam delayed for a few days, to make
a longer holiday, as Miss Winter had suggested.

Bullstone battled in secret and came to a bitter conclusion. It was

exceedingly unlikely that such a man as the master of Shipley would
dawdle by the sea for his health's sake. Some far greater and more pressing
reason kept him from home. Jacob raged over this, departed from himself
and determined upon an action entirely foreign to his genius. He resolved to
see Winter and challenge him. He planned to confront the man and woman
when they returned and judge them out of their own mouths. But he knew,
even while he designed such drastic deeds, that they would never happen.

Winter returned some days sooner than Margery was due to do so. She
had, indeed, written a second letter to Jacob, asking if he would let her
extend her holiday for three days at the entreaty of her uncle, who made a
great favour of it. She apologised for the delay, but knew he would not
mind. He raised no objection, and avoided Adam Winter, desiring now that
he should first find whether Margery made any mention of him when she
came home.

He drove to Brent and met his wife and daughter at the appointed time;
and he found Margery well and in unusually cheerful spirits. Like every
woman whose existence is subject to the tyranny of the passing hour, her
nervous energy and temper had both gained tone from rest. But she declared
herself as beyond measure delighted to be home again. Auna, too, was
much more talkative than usual. She had brought her father and brothers
and sister presents from Plymouth, and again and again declared her delight
at the sea. Twice she had been upon it and seen a trawl shot and fish caught.
But neither she nor her mother had anything to say of Adam Winter, and,
after fighting with himself not to do so, Jacob took opportunity to question
Auna when her mother was not present. It argued a new attitude and he
suffered before sinking to it. Indeed for some time he resisted the
temptation; but the thirsty desire to discover things possibly hidden
conquered pride. He convinced himself that he must leave no channel
unexplored and face every painful need to attain reality; while in truth he
lived in a world of increasing unreality and his values steadily began to
have less correspondence with fact.

Auna caused a passing revulsion, and his heart smote him before her
ingenuous replies to the questions that he put. He asked for no direct
revelation, but came to the matter sidelong and sought to know what his
wife did for entertainment on the days that Auna went to sea. The child was
apparently familiar with all that Margery had done on shore while they were
separated; but the circumstantial account of her mother's doings, evidently
related to Auna on her return, awoke new suspicions. For why should
Margery have been at pains to tell the child so much and relate her doings
so fully? Auna had not seen or heard of Mr. Winter. Jacob mentioned the
fact that their neighbour was in Plymouth at the same time as the child and
her mother; but he did not follow the statement with any direct question. He
mentioned the coincidence as of no importance, and when Auna declared
that she had not known it, added casually, "Mother did not see him, then?"

"I'm sure she'd have told great-uncle if she had," answered the child,
"because he's so good to everybody, and great-uncle would very like have
given Mr. Winter a treat and let him go trawling."

Whereupon Jacob, stricken to passing self-contempt, made one of his

great, periodic efforts to believe that all was well with his life. Margery had
come home stronger and more cheerful than he had seen her for some time.
She was full of activity, and she found her home very sufficient for present
happiness and interest. She seemed a closer and more understanding friend
than usual to her husband, and he argued with himself and strove to build
hopeful resolutions upon her good-will. But to attempt such a position now,
or regain peace, even for a brief interval, though it entailed immense
concentration on Jacob's part, was in reality impossible, for the man had
reached a main attitude from which no final retirement was likely until the
actual truth should be attained—either to support and vindicate him, or
confound him for ever. He struggled to some vague standpoint of hope for a
little while. It served him but two days, then perished before a meeting with
Adam Winter.

Adam saw Jacob pass his gate on the way to Brent and hastened to stop
him before he went out of earshot. He flung down his fork, for he was
digging potatoes, and joined his neighbour. Winter's object was only to
thank Jacob for tending his sheep-dog; and when he had done so, he spoke
of an incident from the immediate past as though it had no significance
whatever.

"Funny how small the world is," he said. "To think that two such stop-
at-homes as your wife and me should actually meet in a great place like
Plymouth!"

Jacob seemed to forget that Adam was part of the tale himself. For a
strange moment he looked through him merely as the teller—as a machine
narrating fearful facts and not implicated in them. His mind thrust Winter
and Margery back to Plymouth. He was alert, strung to acute tension. He
pretended.

"Odd you should meet sure enough," he said, and felt the perspiration
break on his forehead.

"Yes, faith, I saw her looking in a shop window in George Street. 'Hullo,
Mrs. Bullstone, nothing ever happens but the unexpected!'" I said, "and she
jumped around. Two poor strangers in a strange country we were, and glad
to meet according. We drank a cup of tea together. But you'll have heard all
this."

"Yes—yes—she told me all about it. I must get on now—I must get on
now, Winter."

He hurried away and Adam, disappointed of a talk, looked after him in

some surprise. He had not the faintest notion that Jacob was distressed at
the matter of their few words, yet could not fail to see perturbation. This
appeared still more apparent five minutes later, for then the farmer marked
his neighbour walking back to Red House. He had evidently changed his
mind about Brent and was now returning home.

In truth a great storm had raged in Jacob after leaving Shipley and he
was tossed to confusion among frantic thoughts. He could not understand;
he read guile into everything that concerned his wife. He assured himself
that, as soon as his back was turned, Adam would go up the valley to speak
with Margery. He felt certain Adam had read him, and was not deluded into
thinking that he had really known these facts. Adam would doubtless
perceive he had made a mistake to mention his meeting with Margery at all;
and he would then hurry off to warn Margery. Inspired by this suspicion and
feeling it vital that he should see Margery before she learned of Winter's
conversation and admission, he turned back and made haste to anticipate
the farmer.

But Adam was still working in his garden. Jacob guessed that he might
meet Margery coming from Red House to see the other man; for she knew
that he had gone to Brent. Jacob told himself that it would be wiser in future
to keep his movements a secret. But, after all, Margery was not upon the
way, and she expressed genuine astonishment when he appeared.

"Forgotten something?" she asked.

"I don't forget," he answered. "It's for others to forget. But I

remembered certain facts, and they saved my journey. I turned just beyond
Shipley Bridge."

He made no mention of Adam Winter, but changed his mind again, said
nothing and took occasion to keep at home until Margery had next met
Adam herself. This happened within a week, when she went to Shipley
Farm to see Amelia. Her manner was pensive after she returned, and Jacob
expected that he would now have some story from her. He knew that she
had met Winter and doubtless learned from him how the thing she had
chosen to conceal was out. For his own reasons apparently Adam had
chosen to record the meeting, while Margery had not. But why had Winter
mentioned the incident at all? How much easier to have said nothing. His
wife's manner changed after her visit to Shipley Farm, and on the evening
afterwards, she asked Jacob to walk with her up the valley in the idle,
sunset hour.

Instantly he guessed what she was going to say, and a great regret
flashed through him that he had not himself challenged her, after seeing
Adam Winter. Then her version of the meeting might have possibly differed
from the farmer's and helped him towards the truth; now that they had
spoken together, no doubt she would have heard what he had said and echo
his version.

Jacob decided to hear, yet believed that he knew what he would hear.

Above the kennels, Auna River wound through a deep place, where the
moor descended to her margins and only a fisherman's path ran through the
brake fern. Between steep and verdant banks the waters came, and upon the
hills round about flashed gems of golden green, where springs broke out of
the granite and fell from mossy cradles to the valley. Here and there the
water-side opened on green spaces cropped close by the rabbits, and at
intervals a little beach of pebble and sand extended by the shallows of the
stream. Now the river spread her arms to make an islet, where grey sallows
grew and the woodrush; and sometimes she narrowed to a glimmering cleft,
then by a waterfall leapt forward again into the light. A warm evening glow
lay upon the eastern hill and each isolated stone, or tree, burnt with sunset
brightness; but the valley was in shadow, very cool after the heat of a late
August day.

"I always love this place and this time," said Margery. "It's full of
memories—precious ones to me."

"I thought you were like Billy Marydrew and never looked back," he
answered.

"You must look back, to save heartbreak, if the past is happier than the
present. To remember pure happiness—that's something."

"It only makes the present worse than it need be. To know what life
might be and feel what it is—that's the bitter spring where half the
discontent in the world rises from."
 "And the jealousy and mistrust and bad will too, I dare say. Look here,
Jacob, I'm cruel sorry about Adam Winter. I'm sorry for myself, and sorrier
for him."

"But not for me?"

"Yes, for you, because you're such an infant still—groping and blind for
all your wisdom—and no more able to read character than a child. I met
Adam Winter in Plymouth. I was alone. Auna had gone to sea with Uncle
Lawrence and I'd been to the Guildhall, where there was a great concert.
But I came out before the end, because I was tired of it, and looking in a
shop window Adam found me. We went and had tea together. And then he
told me his aunt had begged him to stop a few days more, so we fixed to
meet again, and we did do, when Auna was to sea again. And once more we
had tea in a big shop in the midst of the town."

"But you never breathed a word of this until you found that Winter had
told me about it."

"I did not, because I feared it might vex you."

"Vex me! Is that all? A pretty small word."

"Surely large enough for such a small thing. It couldn't, at worst, do

more than vex you to know I'd met a good neighbour and drank tea with
him."

"I'd give my immortal soul to look in your heart," he answered.

"It's always open for you, if you'd believe your eyes."

For a moment he did not speak. Then he asked a question:

"And why did you do what you knew would vex me?"

"I did it because I wanted to do it, being sure no honest reason existed
against. I set no store by it and never thought of it again. If I'd thought of it,
I might have asked Mr. Winter not to mention the matter; but—no, that's not
true neither. I certainly should never have dreamed of asking him that."
 "Why?"

"Good Lord! Can't you see? What would it have made you look like.
I'm proud for you as well as myself. I know you wouldn't have liked me to
drink tea with him; but how could I tell him that? He would have wanted to
know why you didn't—and then—for that matter I don't know why myself.
I only knew in an unconscious sort of way, remembering silly things in the
past, that you wouldn't have liked it."

A hundred questions leapt to Jacob's lips; but he did not put them. She
was, he thought, guiding the conversation away from the actual event. She
had told him what she had arranged with Winter to tell him and no more;
and that done, now wanted to leave the subject, saddle him with folly, call
him a child, and so come out as the aggrieved party. But this he would not
suffer.

"Did you know Winter was going to Plymouth?" he asked.

"I did not. He only decided to go after I left."

"But he knew you were there?"

"Yes; but he was just as surprised as I that we met."

"So you say."

Then she flamed and turned upon him, in such anger as he had never
seen from her before.

"What are you doing? What are you trying to do? D'you want to smash
up your home? D'you want me away? If my record these seventeen years is
that of a woman you can't trust out of your sight, then say so and I shall
know what to do. But think—think for God's sake first, and use your wits,
and get your mind clear of all this beastliness. Try and look at life from my
point of view, for a change, if you can. I'm many years younger than you
and I married you for pure love, well knowing that I'd have to give up a few
things—nothing compared with the joy of wedding with you—but little
knowing how many things I'd have to give up. I've lived here—and never
hungered for the pleasures—the fun and stir—that meant so much to me;
I've let much that would have made my life fuller and happier go without a
sigh, because I had what was better; and now—now, in sight of middle age
—this. And I'll not endure it, Jacob. Much I'd endure—anything—
everything in justice and reason but this is out of reason. It's a needless
thorn—a scourge for an innocent back. You wish you could look in my
heart. I wish to God you could; and you'd see what would shame you—
shame you. D'you know what stock I am, if you don't know what I am
myself? And I tell you this: I've been a good, faithful mother to your
children and a good, faithful wife to you. That all the world knows, and if I
was to start and whine about being kept like a broody hen under a coop,
there's many would sympathise with me and blame you; but if you were to
whisper in any ear on earth that I was not all I ought to be, the people would
call you a moon-struck liar—and that's what you would be."

"I don't shout my troubles, Margery."

"No; because you well know what they'd sound like if you did. Instead
you breathe the bad air of 'em, and let 'em foul and sicken you. They only
look out of your eyes when I look into them. You take cruel, good care to
hide them from everybody else—and so do I—for common decency. Why
d'you hide them? Tell me that. And I tell you I won't much longer hide them
—I swear I won't. If you think evil of me, then let it out. Point your finger
at me before the people and hear what they'll say about it. I've lived your
life without a murmur, but if so to do, and sink myself in you as I have
done, is to win no better reward than—— There, we'd best to leave it before
I say what could never be unsaid."

He did not immediately answer. He was impressed—for a moment

relieved. Her indignation rang true. He felt disposed to express sorrow and
even promise practical proofs of his regret at causing her such suffering; but
he considered deeply first. He had to convince himself that these words
were sincere and not merely uttered by a woman acting cleverly to hide her
cherished secrets. They sounded as though from her heart: she had never
spoken with such passion; but such a clever woman might be quite capable
of pretending, if she thought it wise. He wanted to believe her; for if he
could do so, it would lift his immense agony off his shoulders at one gesture
and lighten the load of the past as well as promise some brighter hope in the
present. He perceived that, if he could believe her, the situation was saved,
for he would have no difficulty in thinking of a thousand things to prove the
sincerity of his own regret and the size of his own amendment. He would
not be ashamed to confess his errors to Margery, if she could convince him
that they were errors.

They walked silently side by side for a few hundred yards and she
waited for him to speak. She grew calmer and realised the quality of her
tremendous counter-attack. She had never stripped him bare to himself in
this fashion; but she did not regret a word. She was hating him heartily
while she spoke. Only his tyranny and her long endurance held her
thoughts. Apart from his own troubles, which she scorned as the folly of a
lunatic, she was glad that opportunity had offered to remind him of hers. He
had outraged her, and no word that she could speak was too hard for him.
So she still felt.

Her temper rose again at his continued silence.

"Things are at a climax now," she said, "and I won't have no more doubt
and darkness between us. It's wrong and sordid and mean and hateful.
You've got to say you're sorry, Jacob—you've got to tell me straight out, in
plain words, that you're sorry for what you've thought against me, for God
knows how long. You've got to do it, and you've got to show me you mean
it. Either that, or I'll leave you. I'll go and live my own clean life and not
share yours another week."

"That's quite true, Margery. There's no third course."

"Decide then; decide, decide this instant moment if you call yourself a
man. Why should I breathe the same air as you and suffer what I'm
suffering now while you make up your mind? Why should you have to
make up your mind? What devil's got in you to make you doubt a woman
like me? Or do you doubt all women? If you do, you're mad and ought to be
locked up. When I think of it, I wish to Christ this river had drowned me
into peace afore ever I gave myself to you at all."