Two vampires emerged from the building and made their way down the stairs, clearly heading her way. Between the light cast from the building’s interior and the generously lit landscaping, she could see their faces clearly and at first glance didn’t recognize either of them. But that wasn’t a surprise. Vampires tended not to mingle, and especially not across territorial boundaries. Larissa had produced a file on the Seattle compound which had contained a few photographs, but beyond that, Sophia had little information on whom to expect here. Darren, who’d attended years of Council meetings with Lucien, would have been able to describe the Council members themselves, and perhaps their vampire lieutenants, but Sophia didn’t expect to run into any of them here in Seattle, so she hadn’t bothered to ask him.

She studied the two males as they approached the vehicle. The first was an eerily accurate match for her humongous driver. He was at least a brother, if not a twin, which was fascinating—she didn’t think she’d ever seen the like. The other Seattle vampire was a good-looking male, tall and well-built, with long blond hair tied back into a neat queue. He said something to the twin, who walked over to the truck and opened her door.

“Step out, please,” the giant said in a deep, rumbling voice that matched his impressive stature perfectly.

Sophia swung her legs through the open door and scooted forward. The male held out a huge paw, offering his assistance, and she took it gratefully, noting as she did so the deep hum of power beneath his skin. It wasn’t a deliberate show on his part. If he’d wanted to test her, he would have been far more blatant about it. This was simply the power that lived inside him, and it was considerable. Sophia knew he was receiving a similar trace of her own power, which was just as firmly banked. They were all being very carefully polite this evening.

She reached the ground and disengaged her hand, watching from the corner of her eye as the blond vampire approached.

“Sophia,” he said in a cool, uninflected tone. “Welcome to Seattle. I am Duncan.”

Sophia froze and fought not to show it. This was Duncan? When she’d spoken with him earlier, she’d assumed he was in Malibu. But, of course, her call could have been forwarded anywhere. Clearly it had been forwarded right here to Seattle. But if Duncan was in Seattle—

Suddenly everything made terrible sense. The security, the impossibly strong power signature. Aware of the knowing brown eyes watching her ever so closely, Sophia forced herself to take a step forward, to accept the hand Duncan was offering. Many of the older vampires didn’t shake hands, especially those who eschewed human contact. Sophia was not one of those. Her life in Rio was filled with far more humans than vampires.

“The inestimable Duncan,” she acknowledged. She shook his hand firmly, surprised that he, at least, hadn’t tested her power with that handshake. Many vampires in his position would have. But then, if what she’d heard about him was true, he probably didn’t feel the need to. But at the same time, she wondered how much they had discovered about her in the short time since that phone call. Not much, probably. She’d kept an intentionally low profile down in South America, and before that she’d been just one more of Lucien’s playmates, not worthy of any notice at all.

Duncan smiled slightly. “Just Duncan will do. And this is Juro,” he added, indicating the giant vampire next to him. “What brings you to Seattle, Sophia?”

Well, she thought, at least they didn’t waste any time on chitchat. “As we discussed on the phone, I’m here on behalf of my Sire,” she said smoothly. It was close enough to the truth that it would pass, and, besides, she had more than enough power of her own to conceal her thoughts. “I’m searching for someone, a vampire who has gone missing. The trail led me here, where I hoped to secure permission to continue my search and a safe haven for the duration.”

Duncan regarded her steadily, giving away nothing of his thoughts. “For whom do you search?”

Sophia met his cool stare, her expression calm despite her exquisite awareness of the building behind him, and far more importantly, of who she now knew had to be waiting inside that building. She sent out a thin thread of inquiry and snapped it back almost painfully, very nearly singed by the raw, unimaginable depth of power that could only be Raphael. A shiver of dread crept along her spine and she steeled herself against it. She could not afford to show weakness. Not anymore, not with Raphael here in Seattle and her own Sire mysteriously absent. Was it possible that Raphael had something to do with Lucien’s disappearance? Or, meu Deus, might her Sire be Raphael’s prisoner? Maybe right here in this compound?

Duncan was regarding her patiently, seeming willing to stand in the cold damp of a Pacific Northwest night for as long as it took to get a response to his query. She frowned and drew a deep fortifying breath. “I am looking for Lucien,” she said at last, knowing she’d never get past the front door otherwise. “I have reason to believe he’s nearby. I had even thought he might be visiting here, but I now think that unlikely.”

Is he here? Do you know where he is? She choked back the questions she was desperate to ask.

Duncan raised one eyebrow quizzically, the most reaction she’d seen from him so far. He went very still and she knew he was mentally speaking to someone inside. Raphael, probably. He would take direction from no one else.

He smiled at her then, just a slight upward curve of his lips as he turned and gestured with one hand toward the warmly lit building. “My Sire will speak with you.”

Seeing no alternative, Sophia started up the concrete stairway toward the front door, irritated by the awkwardness of the individual steps, too long and too shallow, so that she felt like an overgrown child scurrying along a giant’s staircase. But even as she swallowed her irritation, she recognized it for what it was—a distraction from the fear pooling in her belly, something she hadn’t felt in longer than she could remember. Not since her earliest nights alone, after Lucien had cast her out of his nest and forced her to find a home of her own.

Duncan strode along next to her, with Juro slightly ahead of them. Neither of the two said anything, but Duncan at least seemed friendly in a reserved sort of way. Not terribly forthcoming, but not hostile either. More curious than anything else, she thought.

Juro pulled open the heavy, glass front door and went through first. Duncan caught the door and held it for her, with a slight bow. She acknowledged the courtesy with a smile, nodding her head as she stepped through. All of that courtesy didn’t keep her from noticing the heavy steel shutters hanging over her head, however. Shutters she had no doubt were lowered every day before sunrise and could probably be dropped at the touch of a button, if necessary. Just beyond the front doors was a “great room.” Rooms like this were used for many things in modern houses, but this one was a large, casual sitting room, with a pair of long, heavy couches facing each other across a thick glass coffee table. A pair of matching chairs stood to either end, making a square seating area, with an enormous area rug framing the entire thing. The ceiling was high, two stories at least, with windows on the far wall that nearly met the roof line. And like the door, automatic shutters framed every window. This building had been constructed for vampires. The door was the only real vulnerability and by the time an intruder reached it, the shutters would be deployed and it, too, would be pretty much impregnable.

Halfway across the great room, Duncan quickened his pace, stepping out in front of her and heading straight for a pair of tall wooden doors. At the same time, Juro slowed to flank her, even as his twin and the Jamaican closed in behind, herding her in Duncan’s wake as he opened the doors and disappeared into the room beyond.

Juro slowed further, glancing once at his twin before pausing in front of the open doors and indicating with a sweep of his broad palm that she should enter ahead of him.

Sophia met his flat stare, then tossed her long hair over her shoulder and entered the lion’s den.

She took two steps into the room, her gaze sweeping quickly from side to side, taking note of the small group of vampires. The Seattle nest leader, Wei Chen, was there. He was one of those she recognized from a photo the efficient Larissa had included in her file. There were three others, none of whom she knew, but all of them, including Wei Chen were watching her closely, their power simmering just below the point of challenge, ready to defend their Sire. Letting her gaze travel farther, she saw Duncan crossing to the far side of the room, toward a huge bank of glass overlooking the valley below. As she entered, he turned to take up a position next to a vampire who could only be Raphael.

Sophia couldn’t help it. She sucked in a breath, her gaze riveted on the big vampire sitting in the place of honor. Why had no one warned her of his sheer presence? He fairly vibrated with power. It distorted the air around him and zinged painfully along her nerve endings as she fought to keep up a cool front. She’d thought her master Lucien was powerful, and he was. But he’d never had power like this, had never sought to hone his strength to anything beyond what it took for the loose governance of his territory, spending most of his time and energy on pleasure and foolish games. Sophia wasted a few precious seconds regretting her own foolishness in spending so many years dancing through the hot, humid streets of Rio, instead of cultivating her power. And she cursed Lucien yet again for encouraging his children to do nothing but play during their long lives.

Raphael, she knew instantly, did not play at life. He was power in its truest form, power whetted to the finest edge and knowing no equal.

But while the vampire part of her took note of his power—and kept her own carefully tamped down to avoid even a breath of offense—the woman she still was took note of his beauty. Even as a human, he must have been formidable, well over six feet and broad of shoulder, with short cut black hair and unusual black eyes. There was the slightest flicker of silver in those eyes, evidence of his ready power. As if he’d need it, surrounded as he was by so many of his own powerful children.

Sophia was abruptly thankful she’d taken care with her appearance. Knowing her figure-hugging sweater and black leggings highlighted what were very feminine curves, and that the knee-high boots with their stiletto heels added attractive length to her legs. She swept her long coat behind her and dropped into the graceful curtsey she’d learned hundreds of years ago at her nanny’s knee.