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waited until the transition was secure, a few months, before trying anything, thinking they’d lured me into complacency.”
    “But you don’t travel with bodyguards now.”
    “No . . . but I did for a long time. It takes a while to establish a reputation, Miranda. Right now you’re being tested in the eyes of our kind. They want to see how you handle yourself, how tough you are. The longer we stay in power, the fewer fools will try to take us down.”
    She wriggled as close as she could, not caring that she was probably getting his clothes as filthy as hers. “Thank you for not saying ‘I told you so.’ ”
    He shrugged. “I understand that you value your independence. I don’t want you to lose it. But now you see that we have to be careful. The more you’re in the public eye, the harder it will be to keep your two lives from colliding. I want you to live the life you want to live for as long as you can, but you have to be realistic. Plus . . .” His voice darkened, and despite the words the sound caused a low current of electricity through her body. “Lone nutjob or not, I intend to find whoever hurt you and tear the skin from her bones with my bare hands.”
    She looked up at him and said wryly, “You’re such a ball of sunshine, baby.”
    As she’d hoped, he laughed and kissed her.
    Miranda settled back against him and closed her eyes, the vibration of the car beneath her and the heartbeat at her ear lulling her as much as the thought of what she had to look forward to: a steamy, hot shower; a Snickers bar; and most important, a long morning spent in the arms of her Prime.

Two
    Midafternoon, while the human world bustled around in its frenetic race, was a time of peace at the Haven. The halls were dark and silent, except for the footsteps of the half-dozen diurnal guards. There were no training sessions in the Elite quarter, no patrols checking in and out, and the sensor network powered down partway to conserve energy. Throughout the complex of buildings and the mansion that made up the Haven, 126 vampires slept.
    Today, it was 125.
    David lay on his back with one arm up under his head and the other wrapped securely around his Queen, who slumbered with her head on his chest and her hair spilled out over his bare skin. His hand moved in absent circles on her back, and though she often tossed and turned throughout the afternoon, today she was tranquil. Indeed the radiating heat from the fireplace, the weight of the comforter, and the pull of Miranda’s exhaustion should have drawn him along into dreams himself, but his mind simply refused to be still.
    He’d had many sleepless days during his tenure as Prime. There was always something to worry about, the night-to-night welfare of his territory an endless equation to solve . . . and the last three months had added a new variable.
    She could have been killed.
    The memory of seeing her blood running down from the stake wound made him clench his hand into a fist so hard it shook.
    He had never feared for his own life, and he didn’t now, but having Miranda complicated matters—he could no longer discount the ever-present threat of assassination. As he had pointed out to her, more than one life was at stake. If he died, she died. That was reason enough to be more careful.
    Eventually Miranda grunted and rolled away from him, and he gave up trying to sleep. He got out of bed, pulled on his robe, and sat down at the computer to run a few quick checks.
    Situation normal. The city was quiet; it was rare to have any sort of vampire activity during daylight, and then it was confined to the indoors and there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it. He knew there were about two dozen vampires living belowground in the sewers and old tunnel systems, but unless they made a nuisance of themselves he saw no reason to bother with them. They were followed on the sensor network like everyone else; in Austin—and eventually every metropolitan area of the South—there