“And what did he say at that time?” the prosecuting attorney asked.

“He said ‘I will have you.’ I told him I’d rather die, and . . .” She swallowed hard, her cheeks growing hot. “He ripped my T-shirt down the front.”

“This T-shirt?” The prosecuting attorney held it up and offered it as exhibit A.

“Yes.” She bit down on her lower lip. “He told me he was going to . . . to have me then and there, and then he said, ‘I’ll take you to see Jenica.’”

“And what happened next?”

“My cat attacked him, and he ran out of the castle.” She glanced at her uncle for the first time. He looked prosperous in a new, dark blue suit. Both cheeks were bandaged where Smoke had scratched him.

In light of Dinescu’s confession, combined with the DNA evidence found on all three bodies, the defense had little to build its case on.

The jury deliberated only a short time. When they returned, they declared that they found Tavian Dinescu to be criminally insane and recommended that he be sent to Borsa Castle. Borsa had once been the summer home of the Banffy family. At the end of World War II, the Communists had thrown the family out. It was now an asylum for the insane and, some said, for people no one else wanted.

In spite of all he had done, Elena was overcome with pity for her uncle. She had heard stories of Borsa, which was rumored to be the most monstrous mental institution in all Romania. He would have no one to visit him, no one to offer the attendants food and gifts in exchange for better care.

She blew out a sigh. There was nothing more she could do for him. Whatever happened to her uncle now was his own fault. He had brought it all on himself.

A week after the trial ended, her uncle’s lawyer knocked on the castle door. “Good afternoon, Miss Knightsbridge.”

“Mr. Balescu. What brings you here?”

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” She took a step backward, and almost tripped over the cat. “Smoke, get out of the way,” she murmured, and grinned when he licked her ankle. “This way, Mr. Balescu,” she said. “Please, sit down.”

She sat on one of the sofas in front of the hearth, the cat at her side. The lawyer took a seat on the sofa across from her. He was a middle-aged man, impeccably dressed in a dark blue suit, with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a wispy mustache.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I am here to settle your uncle’s estate.” Setting his briefcase on the coffee table between them, he opened it and withdrew several sheets of paper. “According to the terms of your uncle’s will, the house and all its belongings were bequeathed to your Aunt Catalena. If she died first, his property was to go to Jenica. And then to you.”

“No.” Elena shook her head. “No. I don’t want it.”

“You can dispose of his holdings in any way you wish,” Mr. Balescu said. “But first you need to sign these papers.” He pushed them across the table toward her, and offered her a pen. “There’s also a small savings account.”

Elena read the papers over carefully, asking questions when there was a clause she didn’t fully understand, then signed where the lawyer indicated.

Mr. Balescu tucked the papers into his briefcase and closed it with a flourish. “If you have any questions, please, do not hesitate to call. It will take a few weeks to transfer the title on the house into your name.”

“Thank you.”

Rising, he sketched a bow.

When she started to get up, he waved her off. “I can see myself out. Good day to you, Miss Knightsbridge.”

Elena stared after the lawyer, then looked down at the cat. “I never expected that.”

The cat rubbed his head against her thigh.

“I’ll sell the house,” she said, thinking out loud. “And whatever else he has. If I donate it to the asylum, maybe they’ll make his life easier.”

With a hiss that could only be disapproval, the cat jumped off the sofa and ran up the stairs.

Elena blew out a sigh of exasperation, then followed the cat.

She found Drake waiting for her in bed, the sheet pooled in his lap.

“You think I’m wrong?” she asked. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she kicked off her shoes.

He shook his head. “I am only amazed at your kindness.”

“What kindness?”

“Mortals are strange creatures. Dinescu would have killed you without a qualm. You wanted him to be punished. You testified against him and now, when he has been sent to the worst hellhole in the country, you want to do what you can to make his life more comfortable.” He shook his head. “My people are not so kind. Any one of us who did what your uncle did would have been destroyed, and that would have been the end of it.”

“I guess I wouldn’t make a very good vampire.”

“No,” Drake agreed, pulling her toward him, so that her back rested against his chest. “But you make a perfect wife.”

“What will happen when you don’t go back to the Fortress? You aren’t going back, are you?”

“I am afraid we must. It is the only way to continue this charade. The only way for Andrei and Katiya to be together.”

“What if Rodin finds out what you’ve done?” She had asked him that before, and he had said, That, I cannot predict.

Today, he said, “I will appeal to Liliana for mercy for you and for Katiya.”

Elena looked over her shoulder, her gaze searching his face. “What will he do to you?” Remembering how Rodin had punished Drake before, she hated to ask, but she had to know.

He thought about it a moment before replying. “I do not know. I promised I would marry Katiya. I promised that she would conceive a child, and that I would put her happiness before my own. I have kept those promises,” he said with a wry grin. “I married her. She is with child, and she is happy.”

“Maybe that will mollify Rodin,” Elena said hopefully.

“Maybe,” Drake replied. But it was doubtful. Forgiveness was not one of Rodin’s virtues.

“What will happen to your brother?”

“I do not know. Andrei’s mother is currently out of favor with Rodin.”

“You don’t have the same mother?”

“No.” He ran his fingertips along her arm, then lifted her sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Her bra and jeans followed. “Let us not worry about the future now,” he said, his voice a low purr. “I can think of better ways to spend the afternoon.”

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” she asked primly.

“Later. Right now, I need you here, in my bed, in my arms.”

“And what will we do in your bed?”

His laughter filled the room. “Exactly what you are thinking, wife,” he said as he pulled her under the covers and showered her with kisses.

Chapter 26

The day after Elena received the title to her uncle’s house, she drove down the hill for one last look. Walking from room to room, she tried to remember the happy times she had spent in this house, but they were few and far between, and had ended abruptly when her Aunt Catalena had passed away.

Elena spent a few minutes in her old bedroom. She didn’t have much in the way of belongings—her clothes, a dozen or so CDs, a handful of old school books, a few knickknacks, a couple of movie posters. Seven years of her life, she thought, glancing around, and the only thing she wanted to keep was the music box her aunt had given her one Christmas. It was a lovely thing, white with pale pink flowers painted around the edge. When she lifted the lid, a tiny blond ballerina wearing a fluffy pink tutu twirled round and round.

Carrying the music box into the kitchen, she placed it on the table with the other items she wanted to keep—her Aunt Catalena’s Bible, the silver candlesticks her mother and father had given Catalena as a wedding gift, her aunt’s favorite teapot, a gold crucifix on a chain that had belonged to Jenica.

Sad, Elena thought as she placed the items in a box and stowed them in the back of the Porsche, that there were so few happy memories from her childhood.

The next day, she put the house and all its contents—including Dinescu’s clothes and her own, the furniture and appliances—up for sale. After meeting with the Realtor, she drove away from the house and didn’t look back.

Later that afternoon, she called Mr. Balescu and informed him that the money from the savings account, as well as the net proceeds from the sale of the house, were to be sent to Borsa Castle to be used for her uncle’s care.

Done and done, she thought as she ended the call. She had no ties left to her uncle. She had done her best by him, which was more than he deserved, and now, at last, it was over.

The next few weeks passed peacefully and life at Wolfram Castle settled into a pleasant routine. They had electricity now. It was such a pleasure, Elena sometimes went from room to room flicking the lights on and off, just because she could. She spent her days caring for the house. There was plenty to keep her busy—clothes to wash, furniture to dust, floors to vacuum and sweep. Having music playing in the background made the chores seem less like work. She rarely went into the garden, although she did plant a chestnut tree in the place where she had discovered her cousin’s body.

And when she got lonely during the day, the cat was there. Somehow, he always knew when she needed company.

“When do you sleep?” she asked Drake one night. “During the day, you’re here in your cat form, and at night, you’re Drake.”

“You forget how much the cat sleeps,” he replied with an easy grin. “I love those catnaps. And I sleep at night, when you do.”

As time went on, Elena grew increasingly fond of Andrei and Katiya. They were very much in love, anyone could see that, and excited at the prospect of becoming parents. If it weren’t for the fact that the other people in the house slept by day and didn’t eat, she might have forgotten they were vampires.

Some nights, the four of them played cards. Some nights they played chess, a game that Drake invariably won. Other nights they walked in the moonlight or went swimming in the lake, or spent a quiet evening at home, reading. They often watched movies until the wee hours of the morning.