"It is real, Raphael. I didn't know it was him at first—I thought it might be Milos or someone—but then Christian admitted it when we were in his dungeon. Roxy heard him."

"He's bamming you, love."

"No, he's not. I know what I felt! He invaded my mind. He touched me, physically, only he wasn't in the same room."

Raphael's frown deepened. "Touched you how?"

I held his gaze. "As a lover might."

The muscles in his jaw flexed. "He's drugged you. He's drugged you with something to make you see visions and believe he has supernatural powers."

"Oh, God, Raphael, he hasn't drugged me—"

"Baby, there's nothing you can say to make me believe that anyone is a vampire, least of all Christian. A parasite, a psychotic madman bent on seducing you, a poor fool who's deluded himself into believing his stories are real, yes, he's all that, but not a real vampire. They just… don't… exist."

"Well, we're going to have to agree to disagree here, because I know what I know." I stuffed my arms into my coat.

"Damn it, woman, there is no such thing as a vampire!" He grabbed my coat as I stepped into my shoes. I tried to walk past him, but he caught my chin in his hand and tipped my head back so he could fire those amber eyes at me. "This is not arrogance talking, this is not jealousy, it is simply a matter of facts."

I stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if he knew the danger he was putting himself in by being so blind. So stubborn. So determined to not need anyone's help. "I don't blame you for not believing me. I didn't believe it at first either, not even when Christian invaded my head. But it is the truth, and pretending it's not won't make it go away."

"I don't need to pretend to make Christian go away," he growled, grabbing me and hauling me up against his chest. His eyes were dark with emotion, frustration and love and anger all mingled together.

"You're hurting me," I whispered against his lips. He gentled his hold on my neck, then dropped his hands from me altogether, stepping back to release me.

I looked at the man I loved with my heart and soul, and swore an oath that I would not let his stubbornness ruin our lives. He might not want me playing detective, he might not believe that Christian was who I knew he was, but I could, and would, do whatever it took to keep disaster from rolling over us. Slowly I gathered up my things.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Joy? Christian is nothing to us."

I stood still for a moment, then nodded and turned to leave. Oh, I understood him. The problem was, he wouldn't believe what he couldn't see. I opened the door, curiosity forcing me to stop on the top step and ask, "You know who killed Tanya, don't you?"

He came up behind me, standing so close I could feel the heat from his chest. "Yes, I do."

I looked at my hand on the door latch. "Is it Milos?"

I felt rather than saw him stiffen.

"He's always given me the creeps. Now I know why. I'll see you tonight at the festival?"

"Joy, I don't want you to—"

I opened the door and walked down the steps. Outside the sun was still shining, the men were still breaking down the booths and tents to reassemble on Christian's land. Everything was the same, and yet everything was different.

A warm hand settled on my neck, gently this time, his thumb rubbing away the sting of his earlier hold. I turned and slid my hands under his coat, holding him close, breathing in his wonderful smell. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me just as tightly.

"I won't go near Milos if that's what you're about to order," I whispered, kissing his ear.

"This is not a game, Joy."

I kissed his chin, his obstinate, blunt chin that I loved so much. He still thought I was upset because he wouldn't admit to me what he was really doing with the fair. Silly man. "I know it's not a game."

"If you persist in playing detective, I'll have to spend my time keeping an eye on you rather than proving the murderer's guilt to Bartos. I need this time, Joy. I'm not going to have another chance."

"And if you don't succeed?" I tipped my head back to examine his eyes. They were hard again, just as determined and stubborn as the rest of him. "What happens if you don't convince Bartos? What happens if the festival ends and the fair moves on without you? What then?"

He rubbed his thumb over my lower lip. I bit it. "Then my future is written for me."

My heart tightened painfully. "And it won't include me?"

He didn't answer me right away. "Let me do my job. Let me do it without worrying about you. I need to know you're safe, otherwise this won't end."

I nodded and started to pull away, but his arms tightened around me. "Please, baby. You wanted to help me, now I'm giving you the chance to. Stay away from Milos."

He wasn't asking, he was demanding, but now wasn't the time to argue over words. I nodded again and slipped out of his embrace, giving him one last very gentle kiss before starting off to find Roxy.

"Let's see," Roxy said, circling around me as I stood outside Arielle's trailer. "Hair: mussed. Lips: swollen with impassioned kissing. Dress: wrinkled, as if it had lain on the floor for a while. Face: blushing. Yep. All signs you had a really good talk with Raphael."

"You are an obnoxiously bad woman and you will be punished one day."

She grinned and fell into step as we started back to the hotel. "I take it by the sated look you're wearing that all is right in Raphael-land?"

"Relatively," I admitted. "Somewhat. Kind of. How is Arielle?"

Her grin fizzled away into nothing. "Upset, worried, and frightened. But she'll survive. Her boyfriend is hanging around, keeping an eye on her. I think he'll make sure she doesn't suffer more than she has to."

I stopped. "Maybe I should see her now rather than later?"

"No. Paal gave her a couple of sleeping pills; she'll be out until the festival tonight. Come on, it's lunchtime and I'm hungry. I'm willing to bet that man of yours didn't feed you, either." She shot me a knowing glance. "At least, not food."

"Oh, grow up!"

"So let me get this straight," she said a short time later as we sat over bowls of vegetable soup and fresh baked bread. "You've done a one-eighty on the whole 'he won't tell me his secrets' issue?"

"Right. He loves me. He'll tell me when he's ready to."

"Wow. You really have grown up, haven't you? So then, why the long face?"

"Raphael doesn't believe Christian is a Dark One. He's letting his stubbornness blind him."

"So?" Roxy stuffed a roll in her mouth, crumbs drifting onto the table as she spoke. "I admit that he's being stupid about it, but what's the big deal? You get Christian to show a little fang, and voilà! Instant believer."

I stirred my soup. "The problem is that Raphael's letting his stubbornness blind him about everything. It's not just Christian, it's the whole thing with Inspector Bartos, too."

"You're just a control freak, that's your problem. You want Raphael to admit you're right and he's wrong."

I threw my bread at her. She caught it and took a bite.

"It's not nearly as simple as that. For one thing, Raphael is in danger of being arrested again. Call me silly, but I'd like to avoid that. I really don't want to spend the rest of my life hanging around a Czech prison begging for visitation rights."

She crumbled the bread into her soup. "He says he's not in danger of being arrested."

"Yeah, well, he didn't hear Inspector Bartos say he was a suspect. You think the police are going to tell he's on the list? They don't want him to have his guard up! They want him to feel secure so he'll slip up and they can nab him and take him away from me." I took a deep breath and slammed the flat of my hand onto the table. "I'm not going to let them do that! Raphael doesn't want me getting involved with finding out who the murderer is, but he didn't say I couldn't find someone who can do it for me."