words or even images; she could feel the feelings that had scarred Quinn.
Your father did something-he killed Dove? Oh, John. Oh, John, I'm so sorry. I didn't know.
Rainbow lights shimmered when she called him John. It was the part of him that he had repressed the
most ruthlessly. The part that she could almost feel growing in her presence.
No wonder you hated humans. After everything you'd ken through, to have your own father want you
dead...
And no wonder you hated vampires. They killed someone dose to you-your mother? And you were so
young. I'm... sorry. He wasn't as easy with words as she was, but here they didn't need words. She
could sense his sorrow, his shame, and his fierce protectiveness. And she could sense the emotion behind
his next question. Who did it?
I don't know. I'll probably never know. Rashel didn't want to pursue it. She didn't want to feed the dark
side of Quinn; she wanted to see more of the shimmering light. She wanted to make the light grow until
the dark disappeared.
Rashel, that may not be possible. Quinn's thought wasn't bitter; it was serious and gentle. Tinged with
infinite regret. I may not be able to become anything better-
Of course you can. We all can. Rashel cut him off with absolute determination. She could feel the
bone-deep cold that had set into him years ago, that he'd allowed to set in. I won't let you be cold, she
told him, and she went for a romp in his mind, kissing things and blowing warmth into them, thinking
sunlight and comfort everywhere.
Please stop; I think you're killing me. Quinn's thought was shaky-half serious and half hysterical, like the
helpless gasp of somebody being tickled to death.
Rashel's whole being was singing with elation. She was young-how strange that she had never really felt
young until now-and she was in love and stronger than she had ever been before. She had John Quinn
the vampire squirming and semi-hysterical. She was unstoppable. Anything was possible.
I'll make everything be right, she told Quinn, and she was happy to see that she'd driven his doubt and
his sadness away, at least for the moment. Do you really want me to stop?
No. Quinn sounded dazed now-and bemused. I've decided I'll enjoy dying this way. But...
Rashel couldn't follow the rest of his thought, but she felt a new coldness, something like a wind from outside.
Outside.
She'd forgotten there was an outside. In here, in the private cocoon of their minds, there was nothing but
her and Quinn. It was almost as if nothing else existed.
But...
There was a whole world out there. Other people. Things happening. Things Rashel had to stop....
"Oh, God, Quinn-the vampires."
Chapter 15
The sound of her own voice sent Rashel spinning out of the light.
It was as if she were emerging from deep water- from one world into another. Or as if she were
re-entering her own body. For a moment everything was confusion, and Rashel wasn't sure of where she
was or how she was positioned... and then she felt her arms and legs and saw yellow light. Lamplight.
She was in an upstairs room in a mansion on a private island, and Quinn was holding her.
They had somehow ended up on the floor, half kneeling, half supported by the wall, their arms around
each other, Rashel's head on his shoulder. She had no idea when he'd stopped biting her. She also had
no idea how much time had passed.
She coughed a little, shaken by what had just happened. That other place, with the light-it still seemed
more real than the hard shiny boards of the floor underneath her and the white walls of the room. But it
also seemed encased in its own reality. Like a dream. She didn't know if they would ever be able to get
back there again.
"Quinn?" He was Quinn again. Not John.
"Yes."
"Do you know what happened? I mean, do you understand it?"
"I think," he said, and his voice was gentle and precise, "that sharing blood can strengthen a telepathic
bond. I've always been able to block it out when I fed before, but..." He didn't finish.
"But it happened that other time. Or something like it happened. When I first met you."
"Yes. Well. Well, I think it's... there's something called..." He gave up and resorted to nonverbal
communication. There's something called the soulmate principle. I've never believed in it. I've laughed at
people who talked about it. I would have bet my life that-
"What is it, Quinn?" Rashel had heard of it, too, especially recently. But it wasn't something from her
world, and she wanted a Night Person to explain.
It's the idea that everyone has one and just one soul-mate in the world, and that if you find them, you
recognize them immediately. And... well, that's that.
"But it's not supposed to happen between humans and Night People. Right?"
There are some people who think that it is happening-now-for some reason-especially between humans
and Night People. The Redferns seem to be getting it in particular. There was a pause, then Quinn said
aloud, "I should probably apologize to some of them, actually." He sounded bemused.
Rashel sat up, which was difficult. She didn't want to let go of Quinn. He kept hold of her fingers, which
helped a little.
He looked more mussed than he had down near the wharf, his neat hair disordered, his eyes large and
dark and dazed. She met his gaze directly. "You think we're soulmates?"
"Well." He blinked. "Do you have a better explanation?"
"No." She took a breath. "Do you still want to make me a vampire?"