"Yes, you were right." He avoided looking at me, as if he wanted to hide something.

"Well, don't thank her or anything, brother," Finn said, rolling his eyes. "Talk about ingratitude."

"It's all right, he doesn't have to thank me." I examined his face, looking for some other sign that we were now bound together. There was nothing, no miraculous… something. I had no idea what I was expecting to see, but I felt a strange sense of loss that the indescribable something wasn't there. "I told him I would be happy to help him regain his soul."

"Yes, but—"

"Leave it, Finn," Paen said, shooting a look full of unspoken comment at his brother. "If you're feeling better, Sam, perhaps we can move ahead with our previous plans?"

The sense of something missing heightened. "Sure. Um. Just a second… I'm sorry, I guess I'm a bit more addled than I thought. We're Joined now, right?"

"Yes," Paen said curtly, using one of the damp cloths that Clare left to wipe the blood off his face.

"So I'm… what? I'm a vampire?"

"No, you're a Beloved," Finn answered, smiling when Paen scowled at him. "Someone has to tell her, Paen, and it's clear you're falling down on the job."

"I'm just trying to get a handle on this," I said with a faint apology. "I'm not a vampire, but I'm… what exactly? Still me or different?"

"You're no different than you were with the exception of being immortal," Paen said, tossing the now soiled cloth in the trash.

"Paen, that's not really fair… right. None of my business. You two work it out yourselves," Finn said, holding up his hands when Paen shot him yet another potent glance. "I'll just say this, Sam—there are three sorts of Moravians: Dark Ones, who have no souls until redeemed, Moravian men like me who were born with a soul, and females, who all have souls. Beloveds are more or less the same as female Moravians."

"Ah. Do the women…" I picked up a staple remover and made biting gestures toward my neck.

"Drink blood? They can, but they don't need to in order to live like we need to."

"That sounds rather unfair," Clare said, patting Finn on the arm as she made pouty lips. "All that biting you have to do that they don't."

He grinned at her. "Ah, but you like it when I bite you."

"So the females and down the line Moravians have souls, but the Dark Ones don't? Why are the males and females so different?" I asked.

"Ask him," Finn said, nodding toward Paen. "He's been researching the history of our people for decades."

"It has to do with the manner in which the first Dark One was created," Paen said. "No one knows for certain just how he ended up damned, but I hope to uncover the details soon."

"Ah. Sounds fascinating. But about this immortality thing—that's like payment for giving you back your soul?" I asked.

"Of a sort, yes. Any other questions?"

One. Why aren't you happier about getting your soul back?

I told you before—I don't need a Beloved. This changes nothing between us, Sam.

Oh, I thought it did, but this was clearly not the best moment to have a discussion about the new definitions of our relationship, so I let his comment slide and went over to my own desk, pulling out my phone book. "I'll call Mr. Race and see if he has time to talk with us."

"Thank you."

"Mr. Race? Our client?" Clare asked as she reclaimed her desk. Finn spun her client chair around so it was backward and sat next to her, allowing her to murmur soft little things to him every now and again.

Paen explained what he had been told while I worked my way through the hotel hierarchy of voice mail to leave Owen Race a message. I was just finishing when he picked up the phone, somewhat breathless. "Hello? Miss Cosse? Sorry, I was just coming into the room when I heard you leaving a message. Have you found it?"

"I'm sorry, no, I haven't. Not yet, but I'm working quite hard on it. I wonder if it's possible to set up an appointment to meet with you?"

"I don't suppose there's any chance of you coming to London for a few days?"

"I'm sorry, but that's out of the question," I said firmly, wondering why he wanted to see me so badly. "Unless you have a solid lead indicating the manuscript is in London, that is. Do you have such a lead?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone. "No," he said finally, regret audible in his voice. "I don't have a lead."

"We are working as hard as possible on it," I reassured him. "I believe you said you'd be returning to Edinburgh at the end of the week?"

"Yes. I suppose I could come home early. Since you refuse to come to me, I shall have to, shan't I?"

I didn't roll my eyes. I wanted to, along with wanting to point out to him that in this day of instant technology, on-site research all over the globe was not necessary, but I kept that to myself, as well. "I don't intend to rush you, naturally, but if you were coming back to town—"

"I will return tomorrow." His voice was clipped, as if he was biting off the words.

"Great. Can we meet as soon as possible once you return?"

"That would be agreeable. I am free in the early afternoon."

I raised my eyebrows at Paen, who was listening in on Clare's phone. He nodded.

"Yes, that would be fine."

We set an appointment time for early afternoon, and I hung up after reassuring him once again that we were on the case, and hoped to have results in the very near future.

"In other words, you lied to him," Clare said, frowning at me. White clouds suddenly appeared to darken the sun.

"I did not lie. I can't lie, remember? We are on the case, and I fervently hope and pray we'll have results in the near future. And stop clouding up the sky. We get little enough sun here, I'd like to enjoy it while I can." I paused a moment, glancing at Paen. "I can still go out in the sun, right? Beloveds don't burn easily, do they?"

"No. I told you—nothing other than your mortality has changed."

"Whew. I don't think I could do without sunlight. Let's go back a couple of minutes—why is Pilar after your blood now?" I asked Paen.

"I have no idea. Perhaps he wasn't really after me?"

A little chill sent goose bumps down my arms. "In which case, it means he's willing to kill anyone in order to get that statue."

"Why don't we take a look at it?" Paen suggested. "You said it's locked in a safe?"

"Mila has it in her office downstairs."

"I'll get it," Clare said, jumping up. "Mila knows me."

"As your sworn bodyguard, I will assist you," Finn said, following her to the door.

She cast a hesitant glance at the window. The sun was still shining brightly. "You don't have to. It's not that far."

"No, no, I want to. It's my duty."

"But I don't want you to get burned…"

"It would be worth it. Come on, let's go." Finn pushed her toward the door.

She paused a moment, then gave in. "All right, but we'll go the back way. There's less outdoor time that way."

I gnawed my lip as the door closed behind them. "You think it's OK to let them go off on their own with a murderous Pilar lurking around?"

"Yes. Finn will let me know if he needs help." Paen didn't look the least bit concerned. It went a long way to calming my jangling nerves.

"I suppose so. I don't know why he was so anxious to go with her. It's just downstairs… oh. The sex shop?"

He smiled. "That would be my guess."

I tipped my head as I looked at him with a critical eye. "You should do that more often."

"Reveal to you the unsavory side to my brothers?"

"No. Smile. It looks good on you. It makes me go all girly inside when you smile."

His smile faded, his eyes turning dark. "Sam, I don't like this."

"You don't like me complimenting you?"

"No, I don't like you falling in love with me." He crossed his arms over his chest and loomed over me, clearly trying to intimidate me.