“No, probably not. He just doesn’t answer me, that’s fairly typical. And I really need to get over it. It isn’t that he wouldn’t care. Big vamp war—he’d care. And if I died, he’d be sorry. Because he trained me not to, and going down would be a reflection on him.”

“That sounds harsh.”

“He is.” She looked into Glenna’s face, clear-eyed. “And he doesn’t love me.”

“Oh, Blair.”

“Time to suck that up, too. Past time. You’ve got something else here.” She tapped the letter. “And it’s important.”

“It is,” Glenna agreed. “But they’re not my only family.”

“I get that. What we’ve got, the six of us? It’s one of the good things I’ve picked up along the way.”

With a nod, Blair tucked the envelope into the back pocket of her jeans. “I’ll give this back to you, November first.”

“That’d be good.”

“See you downstairs.”

“Soon. Oh, and Blair? It’s nice, you and Larkin. It’s nice to see.”

“See what?”

Now Glenna let out a genuine laugh. “What, am I blind? Added to that I have the super X-ray vision of a newlywed. I’m just saying I like the way you are together. It seems like a nice fit.”

“It’s just—It’s not…I’m not looking for the big, Hollywood finish, the one where the music crescendos and the light goes all pink and pretty.”

“Why not?”

“Just not the way it is. I’ll take it a day at a time. People like me look too far down the road, they end up falling into the big hole somebody dug right in front of them.”

“If they don’t look far enough or hard enough, they don’t see what they were really looking for.”

“Right now, I’ll settle for avoiding the hole.”

She headed out. No way to explain, she thought, not to a woman still floating on the wings of new love, that there were some people who just weren’t built for it. Some people didn’t have that strolling hand-in-hand with the man of their dreams into the sunset in their destiny.

When she strolled into the sunset, she went alone, she went armed and she went looking for death.

Not exactly the stuff of romance and hopeful futures.

She’d tried it once, and it had been a disaster that had blown up in her face. Larkin was no Jeremy, that was for damn certain. Larkin was tougher, and stronger, and sweeter for that matter.

But that didn’t change the basics. She had her duty—the mission—and he had his world. Those weren’t the elements for a long-term connection.

Her particular branch of the old McKenna family tree would die out with her. She’d made up her mind to that when she’d scraped herself up after Jeremy.

She started to swing toward the stairs, but the music stopped her. Cocking her head, she strained to hear, to recognize. Was that Usher?

Jeez, was Larkin up in the training room fooling around with her MP3? She’d have to kill him.

She jogged up the stairs. It wasn’t that she couldn’t appreciate the fact he enjoyed her music. But she’d spent a lot of time downloading and setting up that player. He didn’t even know how the damn thing worked.

“Listen, cowboy, I don’t want you—”

The room was empty, the terrace doors firmly shut. And music poured through the air.

“Okay, weird.” She set her hand on the stake she always carried in her belt, and sidestepped slowly toward the weapons. The lights were on full; nothing could hide in shadows. But she closed her hand over the handle of a scythe.

The music shut off; a switch flicked.

Lora stepped through the wall of mirrors.

“Hello, cherie.”

“Nice trick.”

“One of my favorites.” Turning a circle, she seemed to study the room. She wore heeled boots, snug black pants with a fitted jacket that showed a flirty bit of frothy lace between the deep plunge of lapels.

“So, this is where you spar and sweat, and prepare to die.”

“This is where we train to kick your ass.”

“So tough, so formidable.” She floated around the room with the spiked heels of those boots gliding just above the floor.

Not here, Blair told herself. Not really here, just the illusion of her. But to prove it, she hurled a stake. And watched it pass right through Lora’s figure to embed itself into the wall.

“That was rude.” Lora turned with a little pout. “Hardly a way to welcome a guest.”

“You weren’t invited.”

“No, we were interrupted the last time, before you could invite me in. But still, I brought you a present. Something picked just especially for you. I went all the way to America for it. All the way to Boston.”

She did a long, sweeping turn with her eyes bright as suns. “Wouldn’t you like to see? Or would you like to guess? Yes, yes, you must guess! Three guesses.”

To show complete lack of interest, Blair stood hip-shot, a hand hooked in the pocket of her jeans. “I don’t play games with the undead, Fifi.”

“You’re just no fun, are you? But one day we’ll have fun, you and I.” She floated closer, running her tongue over fangs before she smiled. “I have so many plans for you. Men have let you down, haven’t they? Poor Blair. Withheld their love, and you crying out for it inside.”

“The only thing I’m crying out for is an end to this conversation before it makes me sick.”

“What you need is a woman. What you need…” She trailed a finger in the air, a breath away from Blair’s cheek. “Yes, bien sur, you need the power and the pleasure I’d give you.”

“I don’t go for cheap blondes with silly French accents. Plus the outfit? It’s so last week.”

Lora hissed, her head snapping forward as if to bite.

“I’ll make you sorry, and I’ll make you grovel. Then I’ll make you scream.”

Deliberately, Blair widened her eyes. “Golly. Does that mean you don’t want to date me anymore?”

With a laugh, Lora spun away. “I like you, I really do. You have, ah…flair. That’s why I brought you such a special present. I’ll just go get it. Wait one minute.”

She stepped backward, through the mirrors.