The vampires strode toward the dais. They were handsome men wearing fashionable clothing that combined I'm-hot-and-I-know-it with I'm-going-clubbing-to-find-a-piece-of-ass-worthy-of-me. Not that design and style could say all that alone; it was inherent in the very fabric of their beings. From their squared shoulders to the self-assurance of their gait—everything about them radiated confidence.

They looked us over with what elsewhere would be taken as lascivious intent. One exuded conceit with the lift of his chin and the firm set of his unimpressed mouth. The other made me think of a delighted frat boy who'd just strolled unnoticed into the ladies' locker room.

Although no one else seemed to be bothered by it, the stench of rotting leaves made me gag. They could have at least tried to cover it with cologne.

"Eldrenne, Madam Elders," said the unimpressed one. His voice was deep. Tall and muscular, he had the disproportionate chiseled features of a comic book hero. Even his blond hair, trimmed business short on the sides, was styled so that three perfect tendrils of the longer top fell forward in a trademark rugged way. He did not bow his head, but rather turned it sideways a fraction while cocking his head. It might be construed as a slight bow, but vampires were not ones to show obeisance to any mortal. "I am Heldridge and am pleased to participate in your Eximium." He signaled the other vampire.

"I'm Sever." He flashed them each a flirty smile, but didn't bother to offer them any pretty words that probably weren't true. Sever had golden brown curls that hung past his shoulders.

"Welcome," Desdemona said to them. To us, she said, "The test will entail the—"

The other Elders all reacted to her sudden stop, sitting straighter as their notice drifted beyond our contestant line.

A trembling resonance began low on my spine then fluttered upward like fingernails scraping over each vertebra. The fine vibration slid around each rib only to rejoin in my sternum, where heat began to build between my breasts. My mind flashed on images of the darkened living room, of Johnny's face before me while our bodies were entwined. My nipples hardened.

I blinked hard, willing the images to stop, willing this reaction to stop, but the heat dropped down, gliding under my skin to my navel and lower, between my legs. A rush of desire swept through my body—

The southern doors burst open behind me. Without looking, I knew who was there.

"Ladies—and my fellow vampires—please permit me to interpose myself." As the contestants around me turned, I did, too, and saw Menessos come striding in, projecting his innate patrician polish. "My presence may not have been solicited, but I trust it is not unwelcome." His walnut-colored waves brushed his shoulders as he moved. The thin beard, trimmed to balance his square jaw, perfected his image as a manifestation of Arthur Pendragon, the warrior from centuries past and my dreams. However, the elegantly cut modern suit that draped from his strong, broad shoulders and the white shirt—sans tie and fashionably unbuttoned—branded him as a New Age warrior, the Lord Executive of the Boardroom. In my eyes, he was a time-transcending champion, cunning and adaptable, trained to win at any cost. A man to be wary of.

From the dais, I heard a sharp intake of breath and the Eldrenne whispered, "Menessos."

That made me turn back to the dais. The other Elders exchanged glances. The Eldrenne flicked her fingers and her staff shot into her grip. She stood. Behind her, on the throne's high back, the raven spread its wings and cawed.

The other Elders came to their feet as well, staves in hand, eyes bright, ready.

The Eldrenne's mouth curved deeply downward, as if she could embody scornful contempt. "You were not invited."

Menessos laughed quietly, but continued into the hall toward us. "I have said as much, dear Eldrenne. I assure you, austere Elders, I have come only to be a participant in the Eximium, as vampires often do for such events. Would you banish me from the proceedings?"

She hesitated. "Local vampires are customary."

He gestured at Sever and Heldridge. "This territory falls under my jurisdiction."

She stamped her staff on the dais floor; it cracked like thunder and the orb atop it began to glow with a white light. "Why have you come?"

"It is my right to attend." Menessos stopped perhaps ten feet from our contestant line. "Do you yet begrudge me the past, Eldrenne? Will your bitterness never cease?"

They had history between them. Curious.

"You give me no cause for anything but bitterness, Menessos." She spat his name.

"What benefit could I seek in aggravating the wounds of decades past, Eldrenne?"

"Your motives are ever your own. To guess at them is to relinquish myself to thoughts just as depraved and selfish. I will not sully myself to venture there."

"Your words sting me, Xerxadrea."

The other Elders gasped in unison; he'd addressed her by name. WEC had only a handful of Eldrennes and once they became Eldrenne, that was their name in public.

"Good," she replied. "It may not be the stabbing vehement agony you deserve, but a sting implies pain and if I have hurt you even a little, then I will relish it."

Menessos took three steps forward, hand out, palms open in a show of nonaggression. "If my pain pleases you, Xerxadrea, if you delight in hearing of it, then come down from your dais, witch. Come down and make me bleed of your own hand, that you may be happy once more."

Before I could even turn back to her, the Eldrenne glided past me to accept his offer.

"Blood Oath!" Desdemona whispered. The other Elders took up the words and repeated them until they had a soft chant, each hammering their staff when they said "oath."

Menessos lifted his arm and bared his wrist.

The Eldrenne took his hand in both of hers. With a cry of victory, she shoved it upward as her raven swooped in. The bird beat its wings and hovered in the air, talons raking his skin over and over.

"By my blood," he said, standing calmly while the bird tore his flesh open. "I am here to harm none. I am here to participate fairly in your Eximium. And I am here to give you this moment, Xerxadrea. Let your bitterness be gone."

When the bird flew away and returned to rest on the high back of her throne, the Eldrenne pulled a black handkerchief from the folds of her robes and covered his forearm with it. She whispered and chanted words I could not make out. When she was done, she said over her shoulder, "Contestants to the kitchen to wait. You will be called shortly for the next lottery."

I was so glad for the chance to remove myself from Menessos's presence I had to force myself to keep to a sedate pace and not to run to the stairs and out of the hall.

The six of us had to grope most of our way to the kitchen in the dark. The candles in the wall geodes had either burned out or were unlit. We had only the fluorescent glow from the open kitchen door to guide us. I wondered where the police—and the portable lights they'd brought in to illuminate the alcove—had gone.

Between the walk in the dark, the scene we'd just witnessed, and the insecurity aroused by the combination of death, drama, and vampire presence, the six of us seemed somewhat shell-shocked.

Holly was the first to speak. She opened the refrigerator and, seeing apples, asked if anyone else wanted one. No one took her up on it.

"Coffee?" I asked. That's what I wanted.

"Good idea," Maria said, and came to help me while the others took seats at one of the long tables.

"Damn, but that was intense," said Lehana, sinking onto a folding chair. She spoke with an accent more pronounced than Suzanne's.

"Is that Jamaican?" Holly asked. I turned, thinking she was inquiring about the coffee I was spooning into the filter, but saw she was intent on Lehana.