Hey guys! I'm kinda in a rush but I wanted to get this chapter up to you before I called it a day. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! I really appreciate your comments and the fact that you're enjoying this story! So without further ado, the next chapter. As always, feel free to leave comments!

Disclaimer: Moonlight and characters don't belong to me; I'm simply a fan having fun with the characters.

Mick leaned back in his chair, ignoring the disgruntled looks the waiter kept shooting at him. Where was she? They had agreed to meet at the Ҫa Va restaurant at half past noon and it was now ten to one; Mick was beginning to think he had been set up. At one o'clock, when she still hadn't showed up, Mick, who was becoming increasingly aware of the waiter's growing distress and annoyance, decided he would be better off finding her and staging a surprise confrontation. Besides, the warmth of the sun was beginning to get more than a little uncomfortable and despite his sunglasses, there was still the occasional glare of afternoon sunlight.

It was then that he finally saw her, standing at the gate, looking around. Mick's first thought was that she was one of those no-nonsense, career-driven women. She certainly had the look—she wore a navy blue pantsuit over a crisp white blouse complete with a leathery mahogany briefcase and her chocolate brown hair was twisted into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. When she saw Mick, she strode briskly toward him.

Mick rose to greet her. "Miss Thompson."

"Mr. St. John." She shook his hand. "Sorry to have kept you waiting. I was showing an estate and lost track of time. You know how it is."

"Of course," Mick replied, waiting for her to set her briefcase down and sit before he followed suit.

"You said you had some properties you wanted me to take a look at?" she asked without prelude.

"Yes." Mick crossed his arms and met her gaze. "I'm thinking of buying the old Williamson bank."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry to say that it was lost in a fire in '87. Surely a distinguished private investigator such as yourself would know that."

Ah. So she had checked up on him. Mick knew he hadn't told her he was a P.I.; he had deliberately left that out. "Actually, Miss Thompson, I'm looking into this property on behalf of a friend, Shane Worrester. Perhaps you know him?"

"And if I did?"

"Are you a sire?"

To Mick's surprise, she laughed. "Tell me, did you know I was a vampire before you conned me into meeting you?"

"I had my suspicions," Mick acknowledged. "Why did you do it?"

"Turn him, you mean."

"Yes."

The laughter disappeared from her face. "Have you ever been in love, Mr. St. John? Not as a mortal, but after you were turned." She laughed again when she saw his startled expression. "You have, I think. Maybe you are, even now. I can smell her all over you."

"I haven't touched a woman in over 50 years," he answered stiffly, mind immediately jumping to Beth. Much as he wanted to, much as he dreamt of it, he certainly hadn't touched Beth.

"Hurts though, doesn't it? Never being able to get close to her? Having to lie about what you are?"

"It's something you learn to live with," Mick replied tonelessly.

She scoffed. "By vampire standards, I'm young, a fledgling—I haven't even lived a human lifetime—but even I know that you're lying to yourself if you think your resolve will always be this strong. When you find her, the right her, you'll do anything it takes to be with her. Anything."

No! Unconsciously, Mick curled his fingers into tight fists. Not Beth. Never Beth!

Charlotte's gaze flicked to his hands. When she spoke, her voice was soft, her words careful. "You know, I never thought I'd break up a couple; I always thought that if it came down to it, I'd be strong enough to walk away. That was before I walked into that bar and saw Shane again. He was drunk as hell but when I talked to him, I finally understood why we kept coming back to each other, why he was my first love. Since I was turned, I have never regretted what I had become but that night, for the first time, I wished to be mortal again. And I knew I couldn't let him slip away; not this time."

Mick stared at her, horrified. Images of his wedding night tumbled through his mind, the betrayal still fresh enough to pain him. "So you turned him?"

"When he broke things off with me, I thought it was because he could sense that I wasn't completely open with him, so a month later, I finally called him and demanded that we talk. I told him the truth…"

"And then you turned him!"

"He was scared—I sensed it—but he didn't run… I thought that meant he loved me! If he had run… if he had run, I would've let him go. But he didn't… he didn't and I thought that meant he was willing to try…"

"What about his wife? And his newborn? Because of what you turned him into, Shane kidnapped his own baby! Her mother is sick with worry!"

"You can think what you want of me, Mr. St. John, but I knew about his wife and his newborn and I did what I did anyway… and had I known that Shane would leave me and do all this… I still would've made the same choice." She rose abruptly. "I think we're done."

"Just one more thing. After Shane left you, did you try to sire others? To replace him?"

"If you're talking about the bodies, then you should know that I'm not the only one. There are others out there, like me, who've fallen for mortals and are willing to try… Shane for instance…"