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chosen to train the Guardians in their duties in service to the humans. But instead, he searched for those who believed as he did, that humans were nothing more than cattle to work the field and serve as food.

“When The Great One learned of the deception, he cast Luka out, condemning him to the outside world, never to return to the mountains again. Luka vowed vengeance. He vowed to enslave mankind, destroy the Immortals, and create his own lineage of Immortals.

“It was then the Great One revealed the vision from his dreams. Luka would not fulfill his legacy of evil. He would be thwarted in his plans by a union between the Immortals and the humans. A Guardian would take a human bride descended from aristocracy, blessed by the Goddess, as his life mate. Their joining would unite the peoples from both races, and together, they would destroy Luka and his followers.
You
were born to save our world.”

Richelle’s brow knitted in bewilderment. All the devastation and death that had followed her through life was based upon what? A future wedding that
may
come to pass?

“Madame, how can they be so sure that
I
am the woman of the prophecy?” Richelle questioned as she tried to process this new information.

“Over the centuries, I’m sure there have been other women who have been more powerful, more deserving than I.”

Madame Selene’s chuckled response only confused Richelle more. She didn’t see anything remotely funny about being targeted by religious fanatics and Vampyres with visions of supremacy for believing she was something she wasn’t. Her family, while affluent in the old country, was not descended from aristocracy. And the so-called blessing from the Goddess had never been more than a curse to her.
It has to
be
a
mistake
.

“No, my child. There is no doubt you are the one to fulfill the prophecy.”

“But how can you be so sure?”

Madame Selene smiled and pointed to the cards lying before her.

“It is in the cards. You must accept your destiny.”

With her lower lip starting to tremble, Richelle shook her head as if her disbelieving would negate the reality of the prophecy.

“Please. It can’t be me,” she stated, trying to remain calm. “I don’t do well with people. I can’t be in a room for more than five minutes without

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trying to escape the pain. I know little about the Immortals and even less about humanity. I’ve always lived alone with minimal contact with other people. How can
I
be expected to save the world?”

“With faith and love. You must believe in yourself and your love for Valya. You must believe that when the time comes, you will have the strength and courage to do what needs to be done.”

Richelle’s lip stopped trembling as she gazed into the immeasurable depths of Madame Selene’s eyes. They were as boundless as the universe, filled with stars twinkling in their rich blue hue. Her eyes still reflected the wonder of a child and belied her advanced years and the troubles of the world. They were the eyes she imagined belonged to a kindly grandmother to whom you could tell anything and she would understand.

“I’m not that strong,” she confessed.

Madame Selene reached over to clasp Richelle’s hands again. With a raise of her chin and a proud smile, she lovingly reassured her.

“You will be.”

* * * *

It took some time, but Valya finally made it to the head of the line and purchased a caramel apple for Richelle. Before he had lost his sense of taste, he was taken in by the enticing aroma, just had Richelle had been. But one taste was enough, especially since the rich sweetness of the caramel was deflated by the gooey substance sticking to his fangs. He looked like a dog eating peanut butter, and it was an experience he did not wish to repeat.

But it was an experience he was excited to share with Richelle. To watch her enjoy this sweet treat with all the relish and jubilation of a child pleased him. More than he wanted to admit.

It had been a long time since he had felt any emotion. But when he did, they weren’t like this. Before, his emotions were harsher, darker. And now, those were overshadowed by the tenderness he felt for Richelle. Now he wanted nothing more than her happiness and would do anything to lay the world at her feet. For him, those feelings were both intimidating and empowering. And on some level, that scared him.

But not as scared as he felt as he returned to where he had left Richelle and found her gone. Frantically, he looked about, but she was nowhere in

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sight. He closed his eyes and tried to sense where she was. Nothing. He broke into a cold sweat as bile rose in his throat.

The caramel apple slipped from his fingers as he began searching, trying to rein in his emotions. If she were still at the carnival, he should have been able to sense her. Again, nothing. Going from tent to tent, he tore through amidst confusion and chaos of the inhabitants. His mind screamed out trying to reach her. He had just found her. He would not lose her now.

As he searched, he prayed to the Gods she was all right. He hoped whoever was trying to take her from him would also pray to the Gods for mercy.

For he wouldn’t show them any.

* * * *

Richelle gaped at the strange pictures on the cards before Madame Selene, trying to decipher the message the seer could read. To Richelle, it was merely a jumble of colors and eccentric imagery.
It doesn’t make any
sense. None of this makes any
sense
, she thought as she slouched in her chair and rubbed her temples.

Everything was coming at her so fast she barely had time to catch her breath. Finding out about Duncan. Losing the cabin. Learning about Preacher and his Believers. About Luka. And Valya.

Valya
.
Oh no!
Richelle abruptly sat up in her
chair
. Valya has no idea
where I am.
Looking about, she tried to find the opening in the tent where she entered.

“Do not fear, my child. Valya is near, searching for you.”

“I have to go to him.” With the attacks by the Believers, she didn’t want to imagine what Valya could be thinking. Saying he was overprotective was an understatement. At the least, he reminded her of a mother hen hovering over her chick as she took her first steps. And at the most, he was a predatory hawk, ready to swoop down on anyone who threatened her. She rose from her chair to leave, but Madame Selene patted her hand, encouraging her to stay.

“Before you leave, I must warn you.”

Richelle gave a quick harrumph under her breath. Religious fanatics and evil incarnate were chasing her, not to mention her so-called “boyfriend”

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appeared to be more than a few centuries old. What more could there possibly be?

“Valya is a good man. He loves you like no other.”

In that, Richelle had no doubt.

“And he is a strong man,” Madame Selene continued. “Strong enough to defeat Luka to protect his rose, but so strong he may crush the rose he holds in his hand. You must learn from his strength as he must learn from your trust. Otherwise Luka will defeat you both.”

“What must I do?”

Madame Selene chuckled as she drew another cigarette from her robe and lit it. After taking a long drag and exhale, she quirked a smile at Richelle. She stood, taking Richelle by the hand to pull her from her seat and lead her toward the flap of her tent.

“You, my dear child, must grow thorns.” She pulled aside the curtain and gave Richelle a small push outside the tent. “Now, go find Valya as I fear he may be causing some trouble as he searches for you.”

Richelle stopped a moment to let her eyes adjust to light. She hadn’t realized how dark it was in the tent. And as her vision cleared, the silence she had enjoyed disappeared. It crept up on her slowly, but soon her head was filled with the voices of those around her. Remembering what Valya had told her, she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, deeply. She envisioned a wall around her mind, trying to shut out all she didn’t want to hear.

Slowly…as slowly as the voices had crept in…she was able to shut them out. She smiled at her accomplishment, as easy as leaving a room and closing the door behind her. She opened her eyes and looked about. She watched people walking arm in arm, waiting in lines for the rides, talking, screaming, and laughing. But in her head, it was blessedly silent, and she could have wept for joy. She couldn’t wait to tell Valya.

That is, if she could find Valya.

Looking around, she didn’t see any sign of him.
How am I going to find
him
. She hurried down a few of the corridors, searching for him. He hadn’t left the carnival she was sure. Like a tickle she could sense his presence in the outer reaches of her mind.

I wonder. Can I open my mind enough just to see what I want to see and
find Valya?
Gathering her resolve, she inhaled deeply and envisioned herself opening a window just slightly before she stopped and called out. “
Valya
.”

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No response.

Pressing on, she opened the window a little farther and called out again.

“Valya.”

“Richelle?”

“Yes.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“I’m still here at the carnival. I can’t find you.”

“Stay where you are.”

An image of a cool breeze rushing through the window surrounded her.

As the coolness touched her skin, she felt it grow warm. Like fingers, it caressed her skin before it evaporated around her. And then suddenly Valya was standing before her. She stared at his hard expression as he glared at her, his chest heaving as if he had run fifty miles. His displeasure and anger roiled off him, and she stood motionless under his scrutiny. She felt another emotion much stronger rise to the surface.
Is that fear?

Before she could offer any explanation, he crossed the distance separating them, crushing her in his arms before his mouth captured hers in a possessive, soul-scorching kiss. Her head swam under his onslaught. He angled her head to give them both better access, and forged his tongue into her mouth. There was no resistance as he thrust repeatedly into the warmth of her mouth. Savoring her taste and relishing every soft contour, he licked and stroked, encouraging her to tongue to dance with his.

And she met that challenge, lick for lick and stroke for stroke, as he wrapped his arms around her, constricting her like a python until she couldn’t breathe. She tried to pull away. Hearing his grunt before he twirled her around, he gripped her tighter. She heard his thoughts as they slipped into her head.

“Mine. Mine.”

“Valya. Please let go of me.”

“No! Mine.”

She felt his hand threading through her hair to grip the back of her head and pull her mouth even closer, his mouth devouring her as his fangs nipped and scraped her lips. Her mind was filled with his echoes of “mine,” over and over, and he refused to release his hold.

“Valya. Please let me go.”

His answer was nothing more than a growl.

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“Please, Valya. It’s hard to breathe.”

He loosened his grip and pulled his mouth away from hers. With his hand fisted in her hair, he gently pulled her head to rest on his chest. Feeling the rise of his chest as he breathed heavily, she tried to think of something to calm him. She brought her hand up and stroked a length of his hair while she snuggled into his embrace. His breathing had slowed but was still erratic.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Valya growled.

“I didn’t mean to,” Richelle replied.

“But you did.” He idly stroked her hair. His voice broke as he spoke. “I couldn’t find you or sense your presence. I will never feel that way again.”

“I’m sorry.” And she was. She didn’t mean to worry him. She hadn’t noticed the time or how long she was in the fortune-teller’s tent.

“Where were you?”

“I was talking with Madame Selene.”

“Who is Madame Selene?”

Pulling away, she gazed into his eyes and nodded toward the direction she came from.

“She’s a fortune-teller. She’s amazing. You’ve got to meet her. Her tent is over there.”

“Over where?” he asked, looking over the top of her head down the fairway. He grudgingly loosened his hold as she turned to point in the direction she came from but the “over there” died on her lips. The tent was gone. Richelle blinked several times, unable to believe her eyes. Pulling herself from Valya’s slackened embrace, she hurried down the corridor to where the tent once stood, with Valya close on her heels.

There wasn’t a trace of Madame Selene’s tent. Not even the grass was disturbed.

* * * *

She kept circling where the tent had stood, muttering under her breath.

“It was right here, it was right here.”

Valya watched her with concern, unable to do anything to help. Yet another new emotion he didn’t want to experience again…helplessness. All he could do was stand, watch, and wait until Richelle came to him.

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He didn’t have to wait long. She turned and looked at Valya, confusion marring her innocent beauty.

“She was right here. Her tent was right here.”

“Madame Selene?”

She nodded. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“Are you sure she was here?”

“I was with her from when you left to get us some caramel apples until you found me.”

Valya didn’t doubt her. Living alone as she did, she had no wily or designing ways. Part of her allure was her candid sincerity. The fact that it was a part of his life mate’s nature was a piece of good fortune he was afraid to question. If Richelle said there was a Madame Selene, then it was so.

But Valya knew he had to do something. Her unsettled emotions were driving him to the brink of madness. Crazed when he couldn’t find her, he was ready to tear the carnival apart to find this Madame Selene, to give her some peace. He couldn’t sense anything other than what his eyes could see.