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"The French reaper." Rowan turned to the side. The entire left side of his face and arm were bloodred, covered in blisters. "We were taking all the reapers to the plane when that bastard Frederic tripped me up, and got away while I was trying to get out of the sunlight. I chased him here. He got my gun."

Christian muttered something and bolted out of the door.

A horrible presentiment shook me. I turned on my heel, pausing to tell the woman at the desk, "I left something on Detective Jan's desk," before I hurried back toward the detective's room. By the time I reached it, I was running, skidding to a stop as before me, a drama opened in seeming slow motion.

From a side room, Denise was being escorted, handcuffed and manacled, a policewoman keeping a firm grip on her. To my left, out of a connecting hall, a voice called out, and Frederic appeared, sliding to a stop as he raised a gun.

"No!" I heard myself scream out, but it was too late. Shots reverberated loudly through the station. Denise stared at Frederic for a moment before throwing back her head and laughing, even as her body crumpled to the ground.

"No!" I cried again, clutching the wall for support.

Frederic let the gun drop from his hand as the police swarmed him. His gaze met mine for an instant, and I knew without any doubt that he had sought his own form of justice.

Justice for Anniki.

"What are those steps again?"

I looked out of the window of the hotel to the bright, glittering sea. It was almost, but not quite, the color of Kristoff's eyes.

"Does it matter?"

"Well, I'm kind of curious how you could think you were doing the steps with one guy, but really have done them with another. I know you had sex with both, but didn't you say there was something about a blood exchange?"

"Yes. Kristoff bit his tongue during one of our more passionate moments. I assume that and the fact that he drank my blood satisfied the exchange requirement." I turned away from the window and summoned up a little smile for my friend. "The steps are unimportant. Christian said that he knew the second I threw myself on top of Kristoff that I was a Beloved. Evidently we smell different, or something. That's why Alec was so taken aback—I didn't smell the same, and he knew something must have happened, and guessed it was Kristoff."

Magda watched me as I fussed with a flower arrangement that sat on a round glass table. "This is going to sound harsh, but I really don't see what you're moping about. Yeah, you didn't get the guy you were interested in, but come on, Pia! Kristoff is gorgeous! He's got those blue eyes, and that chin, and I bet you could talk him into some manly stubble—every man looks better with a smidgen of stubble, it makes them look all ruthless and dangerous—and yet you're walking around looking like life has just kicked you in the gut."

I slumped down onto the couch next to her. "Oh, I'd be doing backflips of joy but for one thing—Kristoff is in love with his girlfriend. His dead girlfriend. And as nice as our couple of romps in the sack were, sooner or later that's going to pale. I want a man in my life, Magda, not someone who swings by every month or so to get his jollies off and scoop up that month's batch of blood, and then leaves without a backward glance."

I was past tears, but the pain remained.

"So he got his soul back, but he doesn't want you?" Magda look thoughtful for a few minutes, then shook her head. "No. I don't believe that. I think you've got the wrong end of the stick here."

"You don't have to take my word for it," I said with a shaky laugh. I waved my hand around the room. "Do you see any vampire here, pledging his undying love to me in gratitude for redemption?"

She couldn't argue with that. In the end, she said simply, "He's a man. Sometimes they need some time to think things through. If he wasn't expecting you to be his Beloved any more than you were, the whole thing probably left him questioning everything in his life." She patted my knee and got up to pour another cup of coffee. "Be patient, Pia. I think with time you guys will work things out. I mean, he can't live without you, can he?"

"We'll see," I said, too heartsick to think about it anymore. I made an effort to pull myself out of a pit of self-pity. "So are you going ahead with the tour?"

"I think I will. We've lost a couple of days in Holland, but now everything is over, the tour is free to go. You… er… didn't want to come with us, did you? I know that sounds horrible said like that, but I don't think Audrey—"

"Don't worry, I'm going back home. I've had enough of romantic Europe." If there was bitterness in my voice, she ignored it.

"I don't blame you. I still can't believe that Denise was behind it all. I mean, I know it's wrong to speak ill of the dead, but she was just completely wacked out. A total nutter, as Ray says. I just wish I knew why she chose our tour to come on."

I frowned at the cup of coffee that she held out to me.