New York

In the limo, on route to her temporary residence, Beth observed her passing surroundings, determined not to gawk like a tourist. Josef ignored her, as he had the whole flight, typing furiously on his laptop, running off a string of phone calls, or looking over balance sheets. He had so many facets to his personality, it was boggling. He could be the diplomat one minute, the aggressive shark the next, and then he was the self-indulgent playboy.

Who was the real Josef Kostan? The tender lover he'd been with Sara? The sardonic, somewhat playful vampire he was with her? The loyal critic of a pal he was with Mick? The cut-throat businessman he was with business rivals and associates alike? The hedonistic benefactor he was with his harem? Was any of it an act on his part, or was he all of those aspects for real?

Josef Kostan wasn't the real him, anyway, she reminded herself. Or at least, not the only him. He'd been Charles Fitzgerald once. How many other identities had he gone through? What did that do to somebody, switching Id's, switching backgrounds, just as casually as somebody did their wardrobe?

And if you were a shrink, this would be fascinating material. But since you're a reporter, just stick to the story he's paying you to look into, she told herself, flipping out her own laptop. "Silver, silver…let see…ah, here we go…" she muttered, going to google first, and branching outwards.

His hand flew to the mouth piece, giving her a black look. "Do you mind? Your blathering is distracting."

"Excuse me?" Beth, who hadn't even been aware she'd said anything out loud, nailed him with a glare of her own. "I do not blather."

"I don't care if full fledged Shakespearean soliloquies come flying out of your mouth on a second's notice, I require silence. This deal, if blown, is gonna cost me $50 million potentially, so unless you have that kind of cash floating around in a Swiss bank account somewhere, kindly shut up."

"Listen to me, you asshole," she hissed, pushed past her patience. "You didn't buy me, you hired me. Maybe everybody else hops when you snap your fingers, I don't."

"Harry, I'll have to call you back. I've got a little insect problem." Beth gasped, knowing exactly what Josef was referring to. Her hands itched to smack him one, even if it would be just an exercise in stupidity and potential humiliation. Attention fully on her, he gave her a look that sent chills through her. It wasn't rage, wasn't malice, was something far more deadly. "I'm only going to say this once. Do not make yourself a nuisance, do not cross me. You don't want me as an adversary."

"I'm not scared of you," Beth countered, even as she wondered if she should be.

"That can be remedied," Josef warned her.

"Oh, what, you'll make me an offer I can't survive?"

"There's thousands of things you can do to a person, a thousand ways to wreck them without laying a single finger on them." Something about the way Josef sounded told her that he personal experience on the subject, and was ruthless enough to back it up. Being Mick's friend was only going to get her so far, she sensed.

"I'll take that under advisement," she said steadily. She wasn't about to shake in her boots, but didn't plan on taking this any further. She may have had guts, but her brain worked fine, thanks.

"You do that." Then he was back to business, back to ignoring her. She reminded herself she'd have to watch her step. Josef had been around 400 years and had probably committed some pretty ruthless acts. He wouldn't kill her, out of friendship's sake with Mick, or even physically hurt her, but he'd make her life a living hell, she just knew it.

Before she could return to her research in earnest, they were parking. She looked out the window, and at the building she'd be calling home. "I'm going to be stopping by tomorrow. As a token of my good faith, I'll secure a lawyer for you, someone unconnected to me, if you'd prefer. I want all your energy on fulfilling your end of the bargain."

"Fine. I would prefer unconnected, actually." Beth was beginning to feel jet-lagged, and hunting down a good lawyer was the last thing she felt like doing before tomorrow. Besides, she'd taken a lot of business law in college, probably didn't even need an attorney. Still, when dealing with Josef; always go for the safety net.

"If you like. Also, as far as anyone knows, you're here as my lover."

"What?!" Beth shrieked, recoiling as if he'd grabbed her breast.

"Must you screech? Good Lord, woman, do you have any idea how sensitive my ears are? It feels like you just stabbed them." He held his head, grimaced. "The next time you do that to me, I swear I'll smack you. I'm not the white knight Mick is good at playing. Why should I be the only one in pain?"

Beth wondered if that was an empty threat or not, but there were bigger issues at stake. "I'm not your lover."

"Well, thank heaven for small favors," Josef retorted. "Of course not. But as far as anyone knows, we're hopelessly in lust. I don't want anyone questioning your motives for being here. I won't have this search jeopardized."

"But-but-but…" Beth stuttered, feeling dizzy. "Vampires will be able to smell that we're not…we're not…"

"Humans won't," Josef pointed out. "As for vampires, let them assume you're wagging your tail at me, making me work for it. It's something you'd do. It will involve some heavy making out, just to put enough of my scent on you to sell the idea. I'm willing to make the sacrifice."

"You're willing-something I'd do…" Rage was building inside Beth, and she was tempted to yell in his ear again, just on principle. Instead, she shoved the door open. The driver was already trotting in the building with her luggage. "I hate you," she hissed, and slammed the door shut. She could have sworn she faintly heard him laughing.

LA-Hours earlier

Coraline stared at the door Josef just shut behind him, conflicted. It wasn't an easy spot for a woman like her to be in. Coraline was a vampire who knew what she wanted and went after it, down and dirty if she needed to. Indecisive crap was for the birds. But now, she felt that way, and didn't know how to handle it. She didn't know how to handle anything about this whacked situation.

Josef had been zip in the help department, running off his big mouth about golden opportunities and it was her fault Mick's memory was running on empty, since Mick had been hurt on her watch. "Who the hell asked him to stay, I'd like to know?" she muttered, thinking of her ex-husband, the gallant idiot, standing by the side of a woman he trusted about as far as he could throw her party house, preceding any fires.

There was enough of the predator in Coraline to see Josef's point about golden opportunities. Mick was vulnerable, hers for the molding, hers for the seducing. The rest would come easy; she could have him wrapped around her little finger in weeks. The Coraline of 22 years ago would have already been plotting it out, step by step.

Things changed, and even vampires changed. Slower than humans, they had time to be inflexible, but even they weren't invulnerable to modification. Now Coraline wanted Mick as a willing partner, to accept her finally as his mate. Her, not blondie. If returning to the mortal coil was Mick's eternal quest, then finally getting his love back was hers.

Not to mention, Mick's memory loss was a temporary condition, not a permanent one. Sure, there was the odd chance he wouldn't get his memory back, that the silver did irreparable damage, wiped the hard drive clear, sort to speak. Still, as little contact as the actual silver had with his brain, she doubted it. If she manipulated the situation, Mick would just have more ammo to hurl in her direction, more proof that she was evil incarnate.

Just because you're playing it straight doesn't mean you can't play it smart, she told herself. She could get Mick to love her, or realize she was loveable, anyway, if she didn't screw it up. That meant no short cuts, no deception. She only had one shot to do this thing right. Even then, there were no guarantees that Mick wouldn't start pining for Beth the second the hard drive kicked back into gear. So what? It'd be the exact spot she was in when she started out, so the gamble wasn't too risky from an objective prospective.

Strolling back through the gray door, she offered Mick a sympathetic smile, her eyes warmly affectionate. She was determined to go into this without her usual masks, without feigning indifference. She felt exposed, the same way most women felt when stripped naked. Of course, nudity was never much of a problem for courtesans, retired or otherwise. Mick, she noticed, studying him, seemed more comfortable in his own skin than she could ever remember, human or otherwise.

Leave it to him for amnesia to be the best vacation he's had in years, she reflected internally. "Still hungry?"

"Yes," he answered unapologetically. "But I don't want you to go yet. Stay, please?"

"If you like." Mick wanting her presence, not just being addicted to it, was a thrill that no hunt could ever match. She knew she was probably beaming like an idiot, but couldn't care less. "How's the head?"

"Better. Not that high of a bar, but…" he trailed off, taking her in. "We know each other, don't we?"

And the award for understatement of the century goes to…"You could say that. It's…a complicated relationship." She paused, seeing if he sensed how a mixed bag that was, how mercurial both subject and relationship unto itself was.

"Don't leave me in suspense." His tone was light, but there was real curiosity there, a real need for more. This was where she had to tread carefully, walking in a landmine.

"Its…look, I don't want to bullshit you. 'Complicated' doesn't even sum it up, and not always for the good. Still, I want you to judge for yourself. When you remember, I want you to make up your own mind."

To her surprise, he didn't fight her. "Can I at least have your name?"

"Coraline." Morgan had just been a temporary façade, a quick fix. She'd thrown a fake I.D. together, hired some people to back up her story over the phone, and viola! Enough to get by for a couple years. It had been more time consuming than difficult at this stage in her life.

"Pretty," he commented softly, the look in his eyes appreciative, and she doubted it had anything to do with her name. "I bet this sounds weird, but what do people call me?"

"Mick. Always Mick. Mick St. John, as a matter of fact."

"This is my place, isn't it? I can't…feel enough of you here." His damaged mind was working furiously; you didn't even have to know him to tell. "Who's the prick?"

"Prick? What…Oh, naturally you mean Josef." A grin tugged at her lips. She leaned her body against the wall, wondering if she should drop a mention about the two of them being best buds. Nah. Silver poisoning and complete memory loss was enough to process, no need to be mean. "Makes an interesting first impression, huh?"

Mick snorted, running his palm over his face, sarcasm running free out of his mouth. "Don't tell me, let me guess. He's got a heart of gold underneath, and being a jackass is just a cover to hide his sensitive feelings?"

Coraline chuckled, enjoying herself. She'd missed Mick's humor; there hadn't been enough to laugh about in their marriage. Fight and mate over, sure, but laughter? Not exactly a popular feature on the itinerary. "Far be it for me to probe into the mind of Josef Kostan. I've been in some pretty freaky places, but I know my limits. He's a good friend, though; I'll give him that, if you don't mind the commentary. And yes, this is your bachelor's pad. There's an office adjoining."

Flopping onto his back, Mick propped his head up on his left forearm. "Office, eh? Efficient. What trade do I run in?"

"Private detective." And now, Coraline mused, he had the mystery of his career to solve. His own life. "Just think, you're actually paid to watch people have sex. It's like live porno."

"You make it sound so noble," he commented dryly. "There's more to the job than that, I'm guessing."

"Details, details." She made an airy motion of dismissal, grinning at him, and he grinned back.

"Well, being a snoop gonna's come in handy if I'm going to figure things out. Will you stay with me? I know it's probably a lot to ask, a woman like you, you know, probably has better things to do than baby-sit, and-"

"I don't mind crashing here." Coraline moved over to the side of the freezer, leaning down over him, reaching down to stroke his cheek. He arched into her touch life an affectionate cat, grazing her palm with his lips. Electricity danced across her skin, and she had to bite back a purr. Her eyes were devouring his naked body, fantasies of them naked and tangled flashing before her eyes.

Get a grip! She snapped internally, impatient with herself. It was just her palm, for crying out loud, not her breast. Gently, she extracted her hand, winking flirtatiously. "I'll just get the blood, and then, you'd better try to get some more sleep. You'll heal faster that way."

"You were hurt, too," he ventured hesitantly, eyes skimming down to her thigh. "I…I can smell, what is that?"

"Silver. It reeks, doesn't it?" He didn't verbally answer, the face he made said it all. "Yes, I was hurt, but not as bad as you." With a dip in an ice bath, a few hours of sleep, it'd be a distant memory. The look of raw concern on his face moved her in a way only he could. "I'm okay, Mick. I've had worse, trust me."

"I can also detect your blood…and that doesn't reek. It's…intoxicating." He gave her a heated look. "Is there anything you need?"

Dangerous question to ask when the vampire of her naughty dreams was gloriously nude, just ripe for the taking, a hungry look in his eyes. "Uh…no, not a thing. I'll just run an ice bath, conk out for a few hours." She saw his eyes wander over her, an automatic reaction, and she knew he was picturing her nude, lounging in the ice, and it was getting to him. Mick had once said fidelity had never been their problem. Well, neither had desire.

Before she could revert to form and attack him, she turned on her heel, hurrying into the kitchen. Again, she added her own blood to the mix, but was careful not to overdo it. The bullet hadn't damaged Mick's powers of observation, and his basic personality was still in tact. It'd disturb him if he sensed she'd done damage to herself on his behalf, and the last thing he needed to feel right now was guilt. In fact, Coraline was voting for Mick having a vacation from guilt.

Coraline whipped up the cocktail, mixing it with the efficiency of a bartender. She could have injected him with a needle, but wanted him to connect with his inner vamp. Orally consuming blood was more personal, more suited to the vampire's nature. She poured it into a cup, stirring it briskly. "As good as it's gonna get," she muttered, returning to Mick.

"That's your blood," he was quick to point out, eyes searching for the wound.

"There's some of it in there, yeah. Don't bother looking. Vampires heal quick," she informed him, handing him the glass. None of the questions he'd asked had centered around vampirism, he just seemed to be going with the flow.

He downed his blood, and she could all but feel the contentment flow through him. "Mmmm, your blood's delicious, but whatever you mixed in with it…kind of leaves a lot to be desired."

Delicious? Most vamps would take human blood over the vamp variety any day of the week, but in some cases, with an older vampire with discriminating tastes, their blood could be appetizing. And compared to bagged blood…well, enough said.

"It's not that the blood's bad, it's just when you bag the stuff, and let it sit, it get's stale, and looses a lot of it's flavor. Vampire blood has a lot more kick than the human variety…but its all energy…no real nourishment." She took the glass from him, feeling exhaustion crowd in on her. It had been a long day, and it was almost nine.

"Coraline?" He seemed to be testing her name out, the quirk of his lips indicating he liked how it felt on his lips. She liked it, too. "Not that I'm trying to be an ingrate, but do you think we could skip the bagged stuff in the future?"

"Why, Mick, you've read my mind." Delight transformed her features, a sly glint in her eyes. "A hunt will be just the thing."

Curiosity, anticipation, and weariness came over Mick. "I…I don't want to hurt anyone…"

"We won't hurt any innocents," Coraline was fast to assure him. "When you bite someone, you ingest their character with their blood, you get a feel for them, you know? Trust me, no one's going down that doesn't have it coming."

"I could feel you, too," Mick murmured. Coraline froze, wondering if she'd already lost him. "Not very clear…but I know you're not evil. I think, somehow, you've done bad things…but you're not evil, Coraline. You wouldn't have saved me if you were evil."

"What makes you think I saved you?" His analysis unnerved her, and she felt her defenses start to slam into place. She forced them down, determined to stay open to him. Still, if he knew that much already…

"We're both hurt, I was in no condition to drag myself out of danger, and I can smell the smoke. Just your basic deduction." His eyes cut to hers, sharp and alert, full of a tenderness she'd hadn't seen in so long. Her heart was crying out for him, but she steeled herself into staying put. "Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me. If our positions were reversed, you'd have done the same thing." After all, we wouldn't want the cure to be lost, now would we? She thought bitterly. Of course, Mick would have dumped her off with Josef if she'd been the one who got a silvered brain. Taking care of her would cut into his hand-holding time with Beth.

"Granted, but…taking care of me is above and beyond." His eyes shone with appreciation. Before she could come up with any kind of answer, he inclined his head towards the door. "I can feel how tired you are. Get some shut-eye, huh?"

"You, too," she told him, a ridiculous sense of triumph whipping through her system. She closed his lid, wondering he could feel it. She'd been empty all these years without him, taking the occasional lover to curb her appetite, all of them pitiful substitutes for her heart's mate. Now, she assessed hopefully on her way to Mick's bathroom, maybe she'd get him back.