Lucien cleared his throat. “I accept.”

“Francisco Muscarella. Stefan Sherrad. You have been chosen as seconds. Step forward.”

Francisco and Stefan did as bidden, bowed to the torchbearer, and then returned to their respective places outside the circle.

“All those required to be in attendance are here present,” the torchbearer said solemnly. “Let whatever blood is shed this night be done with honor.” And so saying, he returned to his place in the circle.

A low, keening wind sprang up, rattling the leaves of the trees. The torches flickered erratically, sending dancing shadows across the ground.

Drake stared at his opponent. He could almost taste Lucien’s fear, his reluctance to fight. “Yield to me, Lucien, and I will spare your life.”

Drake had no doubt that, had Nadiya not been present, Lucien would have surrendered.

Lucien wiped his palms on his trousers. Opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. With a mighty cry, he lunged at Drake, his sword hissing through the air.

Uttering a battle cry of his own, Drake brought up his sword, parrying Lucien’s thrust. The ringing sound of metal striking metal rose in the air, along with the dust stirred by the combatants. Lucien circled Drake warily, testing the strength and mettle of his opponent. He roared with triumph when his blade found its mark and he drew first blood.

Drake paid little heed to the pain of the wound or the blood running down his arm, his only thought to destroy the man in front of him, to reclaim the Fortress that was rightfully his, to protect the women he loved. So long as he lived, they lived.

Spurred by fear, Lucien lunged and parried frantically.

Drake fought coolly, slowly wearing down his opponent. He had no thought for those who watched. No thought for his wounds. For this moment in time, Elena and Kaitlyn had ceased to exist. There was only Lucien and the need to destroy him.

Sensing defeat, Lucien made a last bold lunge, his sword coming up hard and fast, only to be deflected by Drake’s blade.

Howling with fear and fury, Lucien backpedaled, his sword swinging wildly from side to side.

Certain of victory, Drake spun in a circle, feinted left, charged right, and drove his sword into Lucien’s heart. Lucien staggered backward, his sword falling from his hand, a look of surprise spreading over his face as he fell to his knees, then toppled sideways to the ground.

A collective gasp rose from those watching as Drake swung his blade again, cleanly severing Lucien’s head from his body.

But there was little time for victory. He had scarcely wiped the blood from his sword when Stefan shouted, “Behind you!”

Drake ducked and whirled around as a sword whistled past his head. With a cry, he plunged his sword into his attacker’s heart, then spun around as another man charged toward him.

Men began to appear out of the trees on all sides. The air rang with the sounds of battle as Drake’s brothers engaged Lucien’s kin.

During a brief lull, Drake searched for Nadiya, but there was no sign of her. And no time to worry over her whereabouts as another of Lucien’s people lunged at him.

The air reeked of blood and death by the time Stefan dispatched the last of Lucien’s men.

There was little conversation as the victors made sure their foes would not rise again. One common grave served as the final resting place for the deceased.

When all was done, Drake led the way up to the Fortress. Apparently word of Lucien’s defeat had preceded Drake’s arrival. The massive front door stood open. None of Lucien’s kin remained.

As those who had fought with him entered the Fortress, Drake thanked each of them in turn for their assistance. And then, with little thought for the wounds he had sustained or the blood dripping on the floor, he called home.

Elena sighed as she closed her cell phone. Murmuring, “He’s all right, thank the Lord,” she sank down on the sofa next to Kaitlyn. “He’ll be home soon. He’s going to stay at the Fortress until Andrei can get there. Stefan and Ciprian are notifying Northa and the others in case they want to return.” She smiled through the tears of joy shining in her eyes. “The rest of his brothers are getting in touch with their families so they can all move back to the Fortress.”

Kaitlyn threw her arms around her mother. “That’s wonderful news!” She looked up at Zack, who had been adding wood to the fire. “What’s wrong?”

“Did Drake mention Nadiya?”

“She’s disappeared again.” Elena’s smile vanished as she looked at Zack. “You don’t think she’ll try something else, do you? Not after this?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem like the kind to give up. On the other hand, she’s lost three sons, and she no longer has Lucien to fight her battles.”

“Well, I’m not going to worry about her anymore,” Kaitlyn said. “I have a wedding to plan.”

Apparently the word wedding possessed some kind of magical properties, Zack mused. The smile returned to Elena’s face and the next thing Zack knew, the two women had their heads together, talking about dresses and veils, what kind of flowers to order for the church, and what kind of a bouquet Kaitlyn would carry. Flowers weren’t part of vampire weddings, but Kaitlyn and Elena had decided to overrule Drake’s objections and ignore coven tradition. Kaitlyn wanted flowers and a church wedding, and that’s what she was going to have.

Zack frowned. The last time he had been inside a church had been for Colette’s funeral. When he’d proposed to Kaitlyn, he hadn’t given any thought to where they would get married. He had foolishly assumed they would just fly to Vegas for the weekend, get married in one of the chapels, then take an extended honeymoon in Italy or France. He grunted softly. So much for that idea. It was obvious that Kaitlyn wanted a big wedding—long white dress, flowers, bridesmaids. He grimaced. A groom wearing a tuxedo. The whole nine yards.

Looking at the excitement in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, he figured it was a small price to pay to make her happy.

Until the next night, when he realized that, as long as Nadiya was still a threat, he was going to have to act as chaperon while the ladies went shopping.

Of course, every cloud had a silver lining, and this one came in the form of a blue Porsche Panamera 4S. The Sherrad family seemed to have a thing for Porsches, Zack mused. And this one was a beaut.

“I know you two want to gab,” Zack said as he opened the rear door for them and bowed them inside.

Moving around to the driver’s side, he slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. He grinned as the engine purred to life. The Panamera was a sweetheart of a ride, able to go from zero to sixty in four-point-eight seconds and reach a speed of a hundred and seventy-five miles. Although he was itching to put the car through its paces, now wasn’t the time, not when Kaitlyn and her mother were in the backseat.

He put the car in gear and headed down the mountain. The Porsche took the curves with ease; the low hum of the motor like music to his ears. He couldn’t help feeling a moment of regret when, all too soon, the city came into view.

At any other time, he would have dropped the women off and waited in the car, but recent events were too fresh in his mind. After parking the car, he escorted them to the bridal shop, then stood near the door, arms folded over his chest, while they picked out a dozen dresses for Kaitlyn to try on.

He opened his preternatural senses while he waited, grinned as he caught snatches of conversation from the dressing room.

“You look beautiful. . . .”

“How about this one?”

“. . . need a smaller size . . .”

With a shake of his head, he stepped outside and glanced up and down the sidewalk. Only a few people were on the street, mostly couples coming from the direction of the movie theater. No scent of vampires, Romanian or any other kind. No hint of danger.

Returning to the shop, he took a seat on a chintzcovered sofa, and waited. And waited. Just when he thought he’d have to go in after them, Kaitlyn and her mother emerged from the dressing room.

Zack frowned when he saw they were both emptyhanded. “No luck? Don’t tell me we have to do this again.”

“No.” Kaitlyn kissed him on the cheek. “I found the perfect dress. Well, it’ll be perfect with a little altering. The seamstress said it will be ready next week.”

“Wait until you see your bride in that gown,” Elena said, smiling. “She’s gorgeous.”

“She’s already gorgeous,” Zack said, winking at Kaitlyn.

“I found a veil, too. And everything else I’ll need for the wedding.” She smiled at him, her cheeks turning pink. “And the wedding night.”

“Really?” he asked with a wicked grin. “Something black and slinky?”

“Zack!”

“Come on,” he said, laughing. “Let’s go home.”

The next week passed peacefully. The day after the battle, Andrei, Katiya, and their children returned to the Carpathian Fortress, along with Ciprian and Liam. By right of battle, the Italian Fortress and everything in it now belonged to Drake. Four days after Lucien’s defeat, Stefan and Liliana moved into the Italian Fortress, along with a number of Liliana’s daughters and their families. On the fifth day, nearly everyone who had once resided at the Carpathian Fortress had returned.

Three days later, Drake returned to Wolfram Castle. He hugged Kaitlyn, shook Zack’s hand, then swept Elena into his arms and carried her swiftly up the stairs to their bedroom.

“So,” Zack said, looking at Kaitlyn, “what do you want to do tonight?”

“As if you didn’t know,” she replied with a wicked grin.

“Yeah, well . . .”

“I’ll bet any other man would be happy to take me to bed.”

“If any other man tries, I’ll break his neck.”

“Zack! You’re making me crazy.”

Crazy, he thought. That’s exactly what he was. He loved her. She loved him. They were getting married soon. What was he waiting for?