Chapter 1

Thursday, September 11th

"Irene swears she never wants to see another coffin as long as she lives."

Lisa grunted at her mother's comment as she and her younger sister Jeongyeon set the coffin down on the basement floor. She knew all about her soon-to-be sister-in-law's new aversion; Seulgi had explained everything. That was why she was storing the thing. Seulgi was willing to move it out of the mansion to keep her fiancie happy, but for sentimental reason she couldn't bring herself to permanently part with it. The woman swore she came up with her best ideas lying inside its silent darkness. She was a bit eccentric. She was the only person Lisa could think of who would bring a coffin to her own wedding rehearsal. The minister had been horrified when he'd caught the three sisters transferring it from Seulgi's pickup to Jeongyeon's van.

"Thank you for driving it over here, Jeongyeon," Lisa said as she straightened.

Jeongyeon shrugged. "You could hardly fit it in your BMW. Besides," she added as they started back up the stairs, "I would rather transport it than store it. My housekeeper would have fits."

Lisa merely smiled. She no longer had a housekeeper to worry about, and the cleaning company she'd hired to drop in once a week only worked on the main floor. Their seeing the coffin wasn't a concern.

"Is everything in place for the wedding?" She asked as she followed her mother and Jeongyeon into the kitchen. She turned out the basement lights and closed the door behind her, but didn't bother turning any other lights on. The weak illumination from the nightlight plugged into the stove was enough to navigate to the front door.

"Yes. Finally." Dara Manoban sounded relieved. "And despite Mrs. Bae's worries that the wedding was too rushed and that Irene's family wouldn't have time to arrange to be there, they're all coming."

"How large is the family?" Lisa was sincerely hoping there weren't as many Baes as there had been Hirais at Mina's wedding. The wedding of her sister to Momo Hirai had been a nightmare. The woman had a huge family, the majority of which seemed to be single females who eyed Lisa, Seulgi and Jeongyeon as if they were the main course of a one-course meal. Lisa disliked aggressive women. She hadn't quite adjusted with the times and wasn't looking forward to another debacle like Mina's wedding where she'd spent most of her time avoiding the female guests.

Fortunately, Dara soothed some of her fears by announcing, "Rather small compared to Momo's family and mostly male, from the guest list I saw."

"Thank God," Jeongyeon murmured, exchanging a look with her sister.

Lisa nodded in agreement. "Is Seulgi nervous?"

"Surprisingly enough, no." Jeongyeon smiled crookedly. "She's having a great time helping to arrange all this. She swears she can't wait for the wedding day. Irene seems to make her happy." Her expression changed to one of perplexity.

Lisa shared her sister's confusion. She couldn't imagine giving up her freedom to a wife, either. Pausing by the front door, she turned back to find her mother poking through the mail on her hall table.

"Lis, you have unopened mail here from weeks ago! Don't you read it?"

"Why so surprised, mother? She never answers the phone, either. Heck, we're lucky when she bothers to answer the door."

Jeongyeon said the words in a laughing voice, but Lisa didn't miss the exchange of glances between her mother and sister. They were worried about her. She had always been a loner, but lately she had taken that to an extreme and everything seemed a bother. They knew she was growing dangerously bored with life.

"What is this box?"

"I don't know," Lisa admitted as her mother lifted a huge box off the table and shook it as if it were feather-light.

"Well, don't you think it might be a good idea to find out?" she asked impatiently.

Lisa rolled her eyes. No matter how old she got, her mother was likely to interfere and hen-peck. It was something she'd resigned herself to long ago. "I'll get around to it eventually," she muttered. "It's mostly nuisance mail or people wanting something from me."

"What about this letter from your publisher? It's probably important. They wouldn't send it express if it weren't."

Lisa's scowl deepened as her mother picked up the envelope and turned it curiously in her hands. "It is not important. My editor is just harassing me. The company wishes me to do a book-signing tour."

"Edwin wants you to do a book-signing tour?" Dara scowled. "I thought you made it clear to him from the start that you weren't interested in publicity."

"Not Edwin. No." Lisa wasn't surprised that her mother recalled her old editor's name; she had a perfect memory and she'd mentioned Edwin many times over the ten years she'd been writing for YG Publishing. Her first works had been published as historical texts used mostly in universities and colleges. Those books were still in use and were celebrated for the fact that they'd been written as if the writer had actually lived through every period about which she wrote. Which, of course, Lisa had. That was hardly public knowledge, though.

Lisa's last three books, however, had been autobiographical in nature. The first told the story of how her mother and father had met and come together, the second how her sister Mina had met and fallen in love with her therapist wife, Momo, and the latest, published just weeks ago, covered the story of her sister Seulgi and Irene Bae. Lisa hadn't meant to write them, they'd just sort of spilled forth. But once she'd written them, she'd decided they should be published records for the future. Gaining her family's permission, she'd sent them in to Edwin, who'd thought them brilliant works of fiction and published them as such. Not just fiction, either, but "paranormal romance." Lisa had suddenly found herself a romance writer. The whole situation was somewhat distressing for her, so she generally did her best not to think about it.

"Edwin is no longer my editor," she explained. "He had a heart attack late last year and died. His assistant was given his title and position, and she's been harassing me ever since." She scowled again. "The woman is trying to use me to prove herself. She is determined that I should do some publicity events for the novels."

Jeongyeon looked as if she were about to comment, but paused and turned at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Lisa opened the door, and the two women watched with varying degrees of surprise as a taxi pulled to a stop beside Jeongyeon's van.

"Wrong address?" Jeongyeon queried, knowing her sister wasn't big on company.

"It must be," Lisa commented. She narrowed her eyes when the driver got out and opened the back door for a young woman.

"Who is that?" Jeongyeon asked. Shee sounded even more surprised than Lisa felt.

"I haven't a clue," Lisa answered. The taxi driver retrieved a small suitcase and overnight bag from the trunk of the car.

"I believe it's your editor," Dara announced.

Both Lisa and Jeongyeon swiveled to peer at their mother. They found her reading the now-open letter.

"My editor? What the hell are you talking about?" Lisa marched over to snatch the letter out of her hand.

Ignoring her rude behavior, Lisa's mother moved to Jeongueon's side and peered curiously outside. "As the mail is so slow, and because the interest in your books is becoming so widespread, Ms. Jennie Kim decided to come speak to you in person. Which," Dara added archly, "you would know should you bother to read your mail."

Lisa crumpled the letter in her hand. It basically said everything her mother had just verbalized. That, plus the fact that Jennie Kim would be arriving on the 8 p.m. flight from Seoul. It was 8:30. The plane must have been on time.

"She's quite pretty, isn't she?" The comment, along with the speculation in her mother's voice when she made it, was enough to raise alarm in Lisa. Dara sounded like a mother considering taking the matchmaking trail path quite familiar to her. She'd taken it upon first seeing Seulgi and Irene together, too, and look how that had turned out: Seulgi hip deep in wedding preparations!

"She's contemplating matchmaking, Jeongyeon. Take her home. Now," Lisa ordered. Her sister burst out laughing, moving her to add, "After she has finished with me, she shall focus on finding you a partner."

Jeongyeon stopped laughing at once. She grabbed her mother's arm. "Come along, Mother. This is none of our business."

"Of course it is my business." Dara shrugged her elbow free. "You are my daugthers. Your happiness and future are very much my business."

Jeongyeon tried to argue. "I don't understand why this is an issue now. We are both well over four hundred years old. Why, after all this time, have you taken it into your head to see us married off?"

Dara pondered for a moment. "Well, ever since your father died, I've been thinking"

"Dear God," Lisa interrupted. She woefully shook her head.

"What did I say?" her mother asked.

"That is exactly how Mina ended up working at the shelter and getting involved with Momo. Dad died, and she started thinking."

Jeongyeon nodded solemnly. "You shouldn't think."

"Jeongyeon!" Dara Manoban exclaimed.

"Now, now. You know I'm teasing, Mother," she soothed, taking her arm again. This time she got her out the door.

"I, however, am not," Lisa called as she watched them walk down the porch steps to the sidewalk. Her mother berated Jeongyeon the whole way, and Lisa grinned at her sister's beleaguered expression. Jeongyeon would catch hell all the way home, Lisa knew, and almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

Her laughter died, however, as her gaze switched to the brunette who was apparently her editor. Her mother paused in her berating to greet the woman. Lisa almost tried to hear what was said, then decided not to bother. She doubted she wanted to hear it, anyway.

She watched the woman nod and smile at her mother, then she took her luggage in hand and started up the sidewalk. Lisa's eyes narrowed. Dear God, she didn't expect to stay with her, did she? There was no mention in her letter of where she planned to stay. She must expect to stay in a hotel. She would hardly just assume that she would put her up. The woman probably just hadn't stopped at her hotel yet, she reassured herself, her gaze traveling over her person.

Jennie Kim was about her mother's height, which made her relatively tall for a woman, perhaps 5'4". She was also slim and shapely, with long brunette hair. She appeared pretty from the distance presently separating them. In a pale blue business suit, Jennie Kim resembled a cool glass of ice water. The image was pleasing on this unseasonably warm September evening.

The image shattered when the woman dragged her luggage up the porch steps, paused before her, offered her a bright cheerful smile that lifted her lips and sparkled in her eyes, then blurted, "Hi. I'm Jennie Kim. I hope you got my letter. The mail was so slow, and you kept forgetting to send me your phone number, so I thought I'd come visit personally and talk to you about all the publicity possibilities that are opening up for us. I know you're not really interested in partaking of any of them, but I feel sure once I explain the benefits you'll reconsider."

Lisa stared at her wide, smiling lips for one mesmerized moment; then she gave herself a shake. Reconsider? Was that what she wanted? Well, that was easy enough. She reconsidered. It was a quick task. "No." She closed her door.

Jennie stared at the solid wooden panel where Lisa Manoban's face had been and fought not to shriek with fury. The woman was the most difficult, annoying, rude, obnoxious, she pounded on her door pigheaded, ignorant.

The door whipped open, and Jennie quickly pasted a blatantly false but wide smile, she should get high marks for effort smile on her mouth. The smile nearly slipped when she got a look at her. She hadn't really taken the opportunity earlier. A second before, she had been too busy trying to recall the speech she'd composed and memorized on the flight here; now she didn't have a prepared speech didn't actually even have a clue what to say and so she found herself really looking at Lalisa Manoban. The woman was a lot younger than she'd expected. Jennie knew she'd written for Edwin for a good ten years before she'd taken over working with her, yet she didn't look to be more than thirty-two or-three. That meant she'd been writing professionally since her early twenties.

She was also shockingly beautiful. Her hair was blonde, her features sharp and strong. Jennie couldn't help but be impressed. Even the scowl on her face didn't detract from her good looks.

Without any effort on her part, the smile on Jennie's face gained some natural warmth and she said, "It's me again. I haven't eaten yet, and I thought perhaps you'd join me for a meal on the company and we could discuss"

"No. Please remove yourself from my doorstep." Then Lalisa Manoban closed the door once more.

"Well, that was more than just a 'no'," Jennie muttered to herself. "It was even a whole sentence, really." Ever the optimist, she decided to take it as progress.

Raising her hand, she pounded on the door again. Her smile was somewhat battered, but it was still in place when the door opened for the third time. Ms. Manoban reappeared, looking less pleased than ever to find her still there. This time, she didn't speak but merely arched an eyebrow in question.

Jennie supposed that if her speaking a whole sentence was progress, her reverting to complete silence had to be the opposite but she determined not to think of that. Trying to make her smile a little sunnier, she cleared her throat and said, "If you don't like eating out, perhaps I could order something in and"

"No." She started to close the door again, but Jennie hadn't lived in Seoul for five years without learning a trick or two. She quickly stuck her foot forward, managing not to wince as the door banged into it and bounced back open.

Before Ms. Manoban could comment on her guerilla tactics, she said, "If you don't care for takeout, perhaps I could pick up some groceries and cook you something you like." For good measure she added, "That way we could discuss your fears, and I might be able to alleviate them."

She stiffened in surprise at her implication. "I am not afraid," she said.

"I see." Jennie allowed a healthy dose of doubt to creep into her voice, more than willing to stoop to manipulation if necessary. Then she waited, foot still in place, hoping that her desperation wasn't showing but knowing that her calm facade was beginning to slip.

The woman pursed her lips and took her time considering. Her expression made Jennie suspect she was measuring her for a coffin, as if she were considering killing her and planting her in her garden to get her out of her hair. She tried not to think about that possibility too hard. Despite having worked with her for years as Edwin's assistant, and now for almost a year as her editor, Jennie didn't know the woman very well. In her less charitable moments, she had considered just what kind of woman she might be. Her expression at the moment was making her lean toward weird. Serial-killer-type weird.

"You have no intention of removing yourself, do you?" She asked at last.

Jennie considered the question. A firm "no" would probably get her inside. But was that what she wanted? Would the woman slaughter her? Would she be a headline in the next day's news if she did get in the door?

Cutting off such unproductive and even frightening thoughts, Jennie straightened her shoulders and announced firmly; "Ms. Manoban, I flew up here from Seoul. This is important to me. I'm determined to talk to you. I'm your editor." She emphasized the last word in case she had missed the relevance of that fact. It usually had a certain influence with writers, although Manoban had shown no signs of being impressed so far.

She didn't know what else to say after that, so Jennie simply stood waiting for a response that never came. Heaving a deep sigh, Manoban merely turned away and started up her dark hall.

Jennie stared uncertainly at her retreating back. She hadn't slammed the door in her face this time. That was a good sign, wasn't it? Was it an invitation to enter? Deciding she was going to take it as one, Jennie hefted her small suitcase and overnight bag and stepped inside. It was a late-summer evening, cooler than it had been earlier in the day, but still hot. In comparison, stepping into the house was like stepping into a refrigerator. Jennie automatically closed the door behind her to keep the cool air from escaping, then paused to allow her eyes to adjust.

The interior of the house was dark. Lalisa Manoban hadn't bothered to turn on any lights. Jennie couldn't see much of anything except a square of dim light outlining what appeared to be a door at the end of the long hall in which she stood. She wasn't sure what the light was from; it was too gray and dim to be from an overhead fixture. Jennie wasn't even sure that going to that light would bring her to Lalisa Manoban's side, but it was the only source of light she could see, and she was quite sure that it was in the direction she'd taken when walking away.

Setting her bags down by the door, Kate started carefully forward, heading for that square of light, which suddenly seemed so far away. She had no idea if the way was clear or not she hadn't really looked around before closing the door but she hoped there was nothing to trip over along the way. If there was, she would certainly find it.

Lisa paused in the center of her kitchen and peered around in the illumination of the nightlight. She wasn't quite sure what to do. She never had guests, or at least hadn't had them for hundreds of years. What did one do with them, exactly? After an inner debate, she moved to the stove, grabbed the teakettle that sat on the burner, and took it to the sink to fill with water. After setting it on the stove and cranking the dial to high, she found the teapot, some tea bags and a full sugar bowl. She set it all haphazardly on a tray.

She would offer Jennie Kim a cup of tea. Once that was done, so was she.

Hunger drew her to the refrigerator. Light spilled out into the room as she opened the door, making her blink after the previous darkness. Once her eyes adjusted, she bent to pick up one of the two lonely bags of blood on the middle shelf. Other than those bags, there wasn't a single solitary item inside. The cavernous white box was empty. Lisa wasn't much for cooking. Her refrigerator had pretty much been empty since her last housekeeper died.

She didn't bother with a glass. Instead, still bent into the fridge, Lisa lifted the blood bag to her mouth and stabbed her fangs into it. The cool elixir of life immediately began to pour into her system, taking the edge off her crankiness. Lisa was never so cranky as when her blood levels were low.

"Ms. Manoban?"

She jerked in surprise at that query from the doorway. The action ripped the bag she held, sending the crimson fluid spraying out all over her. It squirted in a cold shower over her face and into her hair as she instinctively straightened and banged her head on the underside of the closed freezer compartment. Cursing, Lisa dropped the ruined bag onto the refrigerator shelf and grabbed for her head with one hand, slamming the refrigerator door closed with the other.

Jennie Kim rushed to her side. "Oh, my goodness! Oh! I'm so sorry! Oh!" she screeched as she caught sight of the blood coating her face and hair. "Oh, God! You've cut your head. Bad!"

Lisa hadn't seen an expression of such horror on anyone's face since the good old days when lunch meant biting into a nice warm neck rather than a nasty cold bag.

Seeming to recover her senses somewhat, Jennie grabbed her arm and urged her toward the kitchen table. "Here, you'd better sit down. You're bleeding badly."

"I am fine," Lisa muttered as she settled her into a chair. She found her concern rather annoying. If she was too nice to her, she might feel guilted into being nice back.

"Where's your phone?" She was turning on one heel, scanning the kitchen for the item in question.

"Why do you wish a phone?" She asked hopefully.

Perhaps she would leave her alone now, she thought briefly, but her answer nixed that possibility.

"To call an ambulance. You really hurt yourself."

Her expression became more distressed as she looked at her again, and Lisa found herself glancing down at her front. There was quite a bit of blood on her shirt, and she could feel it streaming down her face. She could also smell its harp and rich with tinny overtones. Without thinking, she slid her tongue out to lick her lips. Then what she'd said slipped into her mind, and she straightened abruptly. While it was convenient that she thought the blood was from an injury, there was no way she was going to a hospital.

"I am fine. I do not need medical assistance," she announced firmly.

"What?" She peered at her with disbelief. "There's blood everywhere! You really hurt yourself."

"Head wounds bleed a lot." She gave a dismissive wave, then stood and moved to the sink to rinse off. If she didn't wash quickly, she was going to shock the woman by licking the blood off her hands all the way up to her elbows. The bit she'd managed to consume before she startled her had barely eased her hunger at all.

"Head wounds may bleed a lot, but this is too much!"

Lisa gave a start as Jennie suddenly stepped to her side and grabbed her head. She was so surprised that she bent dutifully at her urging until she said, "I can't see"

She straightened the moment she realized what she was doing, then quickly bent over the sink to duck her head under the tap so she couldn't get at her head again and see that there was no wound.

"I am fine. I clot quickly," she said as cold water splashed on her head and ran over her face.

Jennie Kim had no answer to that, but Lisa could feel her standing at her back watching. Then she moved to her side, and she felt her warm body press against her as she bent to try to examine her head again.

For a moment, Lisa was transfixed. She was terribly aware of her body so close, of the heat pouring off her, of her sweet scent. For that moment, her hunger became confused. It wasn't the smell of the blood pulsing in her veins that filled her nostrils, it was a whiff of spice and flowers and her own personal scent. It filled her head, clouding her thoughts. Then she became aware of her hands moving through her hair under the tap, searching for a wound she wouldn't find, and she jerked upward in an attempt to stand away from her. The attempt was neatly thwarted by the tap slamming into the back of her head. Pain shattered through her and water squirted everywhere, sending Jennie stepping back with a squeal.

Cursing, Lisa ducked out from under the tap and snatched at the first thing to come to hand; a tea towel. She wrapped it around her wet head, straightened, then pointed at the door. "Out of my kitchen. Out!"

Jennie Kim blinked in surprise at her return of temper, then seemed to grow an inch in height as she marshaled her own. Her voice was firm as she said, "You need a doctor."

"No."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that the only word you know?"

"No."

She threw her hands up in the air, then let them drop as quick as that, seeming to relax. Lisa found herself wary.

Jennie Kim smiled and moved to finish making the tea she had started. "That settles it, then," she said.

"Settles what?" Lisa asked, watching suspiciously as she threw the two teabags in the tea pot and poured hot water over them.

Jennie shrugged mildly and set the kettle back. "I had intended on trying to talk to you, then checking into a hotel later tonight. However, now that you've hurt yourself and refuse to go the hospital" She turned away from the steeping tea to raise one eyebrow. "You won't reconsider?"

"No."

She nodded and turned back to plop the lid again on the teapot. The clink it made had an oddly satisfied sound to it as she explained, "I can't leave you alone after such an injury. Head wounds are tricky. I suppose I have to stay here."

Lisa was opening her mouth to let her know that she most certainly was not staying there, when she moved toward the refrigerator and asked, "Do you take milk?"

Recalling the bag of blood ripped open in the fridge, she raced past her and threw herself wildly in front of her. "No!"

She stared at her, mouth agape, until she realized she stood before the refrigerator door with her arms widespread in a panicked pose. She immediately shifted to lean against it, arms and ankles crossed in a position she hoped appeared more natural. Then she glared at her for good measure. It had the effect of making her close her mouth; then she said uncertainly, "Oh. Well, I do. If you have any."

"No."

She nodded slowly, but concern filled her face and she actually lifted a hand to place it soft and warm against her forehead as if checking for fever. Lisa inhaled the scent of her and felt her stance relax somewhat.

"Are you sure you won't go to the hospital?" Jennie asked. "You're acting a tad strange, and head wounds really aren't something to mess with."

"No."

Lisa was alarmed when she heard how low her voice had gone. She was even more concerned when Jennie smiled and asked teasingly, "Now, why aren't I surprised by that answer?"

Much to her dismay, she almost smiled back at her. Catching herself, she scowled harder instead and berated herself for her momentary weakness. Jennie Kim, editor, might be being nice to her right now, but that was only because she wanted something from her. And she would do well to remember that.

"Well, come along, then."

Lisa stopped her woolgathering to note that her editor had collected the tea tray and was moving toward the kitchen door.

"We should move to the living room, where you can sit down for a bit. You took quite a blow," she added as she pushed through the swinging door with one hip.

Lisa took a step after her, then paused to glance back at the refrigerator, her thoughts on the other full bag of blood inside. It was her last until the fresh delivery tomorrow night. She was terribly hungry, almost faint with it. Which was no doubt the reason behind her weakness in the face of Kim's steamroller approach. Perhaps just a sip would strengthen her for the conversation ahead. She reached for the door.

"Lisa?"

She stiffened at that call. When had she stopped addressing her as Ms. Manoban? And why did her name on her lips sound so sexy? She really needed to feed. She pulled the refrigerator door open and reached for the bag.

"Lisa?" There was concern in her voice this time, and she sounded closer. She must be coming back. No doubt she feared she had passed out from her injury.

She released a mutter of frustration and closed the refrigerator door. The last thing she needed was another debacle like spilling blood all over herself. That had already caused her unending problems, like the fact that the woman now planned to stay with her. She'd meant to nix the idea at once, but had been distracted by Ms. Kim approaching the refrigerator. Damn!

Well, she would straighten her out on that issue first thing. She'd be damned if she was letting her stay here and harangue her about all this publicity nonsense. That was that. She would be firm. Cruel, if necessary. She wasn't staying here.

Lisa tried to get rid of her, but Jennie was rather like a bulldog once she made up her mind about something. No, a bulldog was the wrong image. A terrier perhaps. Yes, she was happier with that comparison. A cute brunette terrier hanging off of her arm, teeth sunk determinedly into the cuff of her shirt and refusing to let go. Short of smashing her against the wall a couple of times, she really had no idea how to get her jaws off her.

It was the situation of course. Despite having lived for several hundred years, Lisa had failed to come up against anything of the sort. In her experience, people were a bother and never failed to bring chaos with them. Women especially. She'd always been a sucker for a damsel in distress. She couldn't recount how many times she'd found herself stumbling across a woman with troubles and suddenly finding her whole life in turmoil while she fought a battle, a duel, or a war for her. Of course, she always won and saved the day. Still, somehow she never got the woman. In the end, all her efforts and the upheavals in her life left her watching the woman walk away with someone else.

That wasn't the situation here. Jennie Kim, editor, was not a damsel in distress. In fact, she apparently saw her as the one in distress. She was staying "for her own good." She was saving her, in her mind, and intended to "wake her every hour should she fall asleep," to save her from her own foolishness in refusing to go to the doctor. She made that announcement the moment they were seated in her living room, then calmly set about removing the tea bags from the pot and pouring tea while she gaped at her.

Lisa didn't need her help. She hadn't really hit her head that hard, and even if she had, her body would have repaired itself quickly. But that wasn't something she could tell the woman. In the end, she simply said, with all the sternness and firmness she could muster, "I do not desire your help, Ms. Kim. I can take care of myself."

She nodded sedately, sipped her tea, then smiled pleasantly and said, "I would take that comment much more seriously were you not presently wearing a pretty but bloodstained flowered tea towel on your head turban style."

Lisa reached up in alarm, only to feel the tea towel she'd forgotten was wrapped around her head. As she began to unravel it, Jennie added, "Don't remove it on my account. It looks rather adorable on you and makes you far less intimidating."

Lisa growled. She ripped the flowered tea towel off.

"What was that?" her editor asked, eyes wide. "You growled."

"I did not."

"You did so." She was grinning widely, looking very pleased. "Oh, you are so cute."

Lisa knew then that the battle was lost. There would be no argument that would make her leave.

Perhaps mind control

It was a skill she tried to avoid using as a rule, and hadn't exercised in some time. It wasn't usually necessary, since the family had switched to utilizing a blood bank for feeding rather than hunting. But this occasion clearly called for it.

As she watched Jennie sip her tea, she tried to get into her thoughts so that she might take control of them. She was beyond shocked to find only a blank wall.

Kim's mind was as inaccessible to her as if a door had been closed and locked. Still, she continued to try for several moments, her lack of success more alarming than she would have expected.

She didn't give up until she broke the silence by bringing up her reason for being there: "Perhaps we could now discuss the book-signing tour."

Lisa reacted as if she'd poked her with a hot iron. Giving up on controlling her mind and making her leave, she leapt to her feet. "There are three guest rooms. They're upstairs, all three on the left. My room and office are on the right. Stay out of them. Take whichever of the guest rooms you want."

Then she retreated from the battlefield with all haste, rushing back to the kitchen.

She could put up with her for one night, she told herself. Once the night was over and she was reassured that she was fine, she would leave. She would see to that.

Trying not to recall that she'd been just as determined and certain about expelling her after she finished her tea, Lisa snatched a glass and her last bag of blood from the fridge. Then she moved to the sink to pour herself some dinner. She could probably get a quick cup while Ms. Kim was occupied in choosing a room.

She'd thought wrong. Lisa had just started to pour the blood from its bag to the glass when the kitchen door opened behind her.

"Do you have any all-night grocery stores in town?"

Dropping the glass and bag, Lisa whirled to face her, wincing as the glass smashed in the sink.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I" She paused when she held up a hand to halt her forward progress.

"Just" she began, then finished wearily; "What did you ask?"

She couldn't really listen to her answer. The sweet, tinny scent of blood seemed rich in the air, though she doubted Jennie could smell it from where she was across the room. It was distracting, and even more distracting was the rushing sound of it all running out of the bag and down the sink. Her dinner. Her last bag.

Her mind was screaming NO! Her body was cramping in protest. That being the case, Jennie's words sounded like "Blah blah blah" as she moved toward her empty refrigerator and peered inside. Lisa didn't bother to stop her this time. Apart from the blood from earlier, it was completely empty. However, she did try to concentrate on what she was saying, hoping that the sooner she dealt with her question, the sooner she could save her dinner. Try as she might, however, she was really only catching a word here and there.

"Blah blah blah haven't eaten since breakfast. Blah blah blah really don't have anything here. Blah blah blah shopping?"

The last chorus of blahs ended on a high note, alerting Lisa to the fact that it had been a question. She wasn't sure what the question was, but she could sense that a no would probably provoke an argument.

"Yes," she blurted, hoping to be rid of the stubborn woman. Much to her relief, the answer pleased her and sent her back to the hall door.

"Blah blah blah pick my room."

She could almost taste the blood, its scent was so heavy in the air.

"Blah blah change into something more comfortable."

She was starving.

"Blah blah be right back and we can go."

The door closed behind her, and Lisa whirled back to the sink. She moaned. The bag was almost completely drained. It was flat. Nearly. Feeling somewhat desperate, she picked it up, tipped it over her mouth and squeezed, trying to wring out the last few drops. She got exactly three before giving up and tossing the bag into the garbage with disgust. If there had been any question before, there wasn't now. Without a doubt, Jennie Kim was going to make her life a living hell until she left. She just knew it.

And what the heck had she agreed to anyway?