Bethalie opened her eyes to find daylight flooding her room and Noah sleeping soundly beside her, the covers kicked off so that his naked flesh was exposed to her. Seeing him in all his glory caused her stomach to clench and gooseflesh to skitter along her arms. Noah Grey was stunning. And even though she didn't want to dwell on it, she just had to allow the thought to waft through her mind.

Noah Grey was hers.

She found herself with company in her bed because Noah had refused to sleep on the cot since Mace no longer needed guarding. And she hadn't put up too much of an argument. Noah wanted to take her off into bliss and she had decided to allow it. And why not? She was bound to the beautiful Vampire and she couldn't think of a single good reason why she should turn him away.

Not wanting to awaken Noah from his slumber, which he'd earned after all the work he'd done on her behalf the night before, Bethalie carefully slid out of bed, pulled Noah's button down shirt on, and pointed herself toward the stairs. She really wanted a coffee. She felt like it would help the unsteadiness of her bones and the fogginess of her mind, even though she'd had a glass only a few hours before.

Figuring she'd never work the blender, not to mention the fact she had no idea how to make the coffee to start with, she went in search of Evyn, knowing her assistant would save her. However, once at the bottom of the stairs, she found the living space was dim and silent. Evyn was nowhere to be seen. Odd. Evyn was always up and flitting around long before she herself rolled out bed, doing all the things that were useful and necessary. Feeling confused, her gaze went to the sofa, where she expected to find Mace still sleeping soundly, but the sofa was empty, the pillows still stacked up and the blanket still neatly folded.

Cold fear stabbed at Bethalie and her heart skipped a hard beat. Oh god. Oh god! Mace...she'd trusted Mace Donovan and he'd...what had he done to Evyn?

With terror propelling her forward, she shot across the space, her pulse hammering in her throat. If anything had happened to Evyn...Mace Donovan would not be able to run far enough! She took the stairs of Evyn's sleeping loft at a run, her legs weak beneath her as she flew up them. As she hit the floor of the loft, her eyes fell on the bed and she tried to brace herself for whatever horrid scene she'd happened upon...and then she slammed to a halt, a little shock wave rolling through her.

Much to her utter relief, she realized that...Evyn was not dead. Nor had Mace done something horrid to her so that he could escape. In fact, Evyn's bed was taken up by Evyn and Mace, both lying among the rumpled covers, their arms and legs nothing but a tangle.

Well. Way to go Evyn, you little minx!

Not wanting to disturb her assistant's much needed...interlude, Bethalie spun back around toward the staircase, bumping right into the hard wall of Noah's body. She bit back the startled gasp that rose up in her throat and then had to swallow another gasp as she realized that Noah was naked. Completely naked!

"Bethalie, what—"

Bethalie slapped her hand over his mouth to stifle his words and then grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him back down the stairs and out into the living space before removing her hand from his mouth.

"Bethalie, what's happening? Why did you sneak out of bed?" he asked, his hazel eyes worried as he gazed down at her.

"I didn't want to wake you up," she said, rushing Noah toward her own sleeping loft so that he could at least put a pair of boxers on. The man was butt naked! He was beautiful, but she doubted that Evyn, or Mace, would appreciate seeing him with all his bits and pieces waving in the wind.

"You should have wakened me. I don't want you coming down here alone. Have you forgotten about the Nagas Demon?" Noah scolded as they ascended the stairs back up to her loft.

"I just wanted a glass of coffee," she said, not appreciating the lecture. "But, then I couldn't find Mace and I thought...I thought he might have done something to Evyn, so I went to check on her."

"He did something to her, alright," Noah said, taking hold of Bethalie's shoulders and sweeping her toward the bed. "You were asleep, so you didn't hear them. But, trust me, it was a very...rambunctious encounter."

The mattress was beneath Bethalie's back and Noah's weight was pressing her down and suddenly she wasn't so worried about Evyn. How could she think of anyone or anything else when Noah was pushing into her, when he was using his body to do such beautiful things to her own? Noah swept her right the very edge of sanity and then, with a few quick strokes, she toppled over, losing herself in the velvety bliss that blanketed her, and all the while trying very hard to refuse Noah's pleas to drink from him.

She didn't want to dwell on the fact that refusing him was becoming more difficult each time he offered himself to her.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Again Bethalie opened her eyes and found daylight flooding her loft. But, this time Noah was gone from her bed. Feeling only moderately guilty for laying abed most of the day when she should have been doing something constructive, she forced her body into motion, sitting up and sliding to the floor...and not enjoying the way the room tilted and the sudden sheen of perspiration breaking out over her body.

Damn.

She used to jump up out of bed and hit the floor running, now she could barely crawl out of bed and drag herself across the floor. Weren't Vampires supposed to be infallible, unstoppable beings who were above the ills and pains of humanity? What happened to that? Why had she wound up feeling like an eighty year old woman who'd spent her entire life being rode hard and put up wet?

With her breath coming fast and her knees knocking together, Bethalie hurried to the shower stall, where she bathed at top speed and then stepped out, grabbed a towel and went out into her loft, dripping wet and wobbling unsteadily. She was surprised that she made it to lie down on her mattress before her legs completely gave out.

For just one moment she thought about calling for Noah because she feared she wouldn't be able to dress herself, but her Sanderson stubborn streak kicked in and after resting for a few minutes, she gathered what small amount of strength she had left and pulled herself up off the mattress. Somehow, she managed to get into a pair of jeans and a tank top and get her weapons belt strapped on, though by that time she felt she needed another shower because she was drenched in a cold sweat, which caused her clothes to stick to her in some very uncomfortable places.

As she started down the staircase, she had to wonder just where Noah Grey was hiding. He had been her shadow all these days, she couldn't get rid of him even if she wanted to, and now, when she could actually use him—though she'd never say it aloud even under threat of death—he was nowhere to be found.

Halfway down the stairs her somewhat unsteady gaze fell on the man who was conspicuously absent from her side. Noah was sitting at the kitchen table with Mace, both having a meal, and Evyn was at her desk, viciously clicking away on her computer, absorbed in her work and oblivious to all else. Bethalie took another few steps and then froze, something tickling her nose and causing her stomach to clench. Her head swiveled toward Evyn and she just knew that...scent...was coming from her. It was silky and luscious and coated her tongue and throat, making her mouth water and some deep, hidden part of her perk up in anticipation.

Intrigued, she abruptly decided to find out why her assistant suddenly smelled...good enough to eat.

Her legs, suddenly not as weak and unreliable as they had been before, began to carry her forward down the staircase. She'd never noticed that scent coming from her assistant before and they had been together for five years. That heavenly perfume wafting from Evyn's work space had her harboring visions of pulling the girl off into some dark corner of the loft and...exploring her, searching her body for just the spot that was exuding that aroma. And when she found that place...she wanted to taste that place. She wanted to taste it with her tongue and then bite it with her teeth.

She wanted to wound that place...because wounding that place would allow her to release...what was flowing just beneath Evyn's skin....would allow her to drink in something that she knew would be warm and sweet and wholesome...and it would...satisfy...something inside her, something that needed satisfying.

She was suddenly standing in front of Evyn's desk without remembering the walk across the room. She took a breath, a deep and lingering breath, pulling that fragrance into her lungs. She felt her heart beat speed up. Yes. That beautiful, earthy scent was coming from Evyn. And standing so close to the woman intensified that scent so that her muscles began to tighten, preparing her to go after what she wanted.

Evyn couldn't fight her off. She was just a weak little girl.

"Evyn, perhaps you should make Bethalie some food," Noah's voice sounded out in Bethalie's ear a split second before his hands clamped down onto her shoulders, spinning her away from Evyn.

Anger tore through Bethalie and she felt her hands go for her batons. She wanted to fight Noah, to hurt him, to beat him until he was no longer standing between her and...what she wanted.

"Why don't we go splash some water on your face, Bethalie? You're looking as pale as death," Noah told her and hearing that...caused her to jolt as if someone had physically struck her.

Noah bolted forward and Bethalie was whisked back up to her sleeping loft faster than she could blink. When her vision caught up to the rest of her, she found herself standing in front of the bathroom sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror.

A surge of disbelief shot through her and she gasped, stumbling backward a few steps. No! No, that could not be her! Not...that! That was...that was not Bethalie Sanderson!

"It's alright, Bethalie. Just try and relax for a second. The more you relax, the faster it will leave you," Noah said from behind her.

Bethalie heard him, and she believed him, after all he would know about such things, but how could she relax when...that was staring back at her? It was a face she knew well. It was a face she had seen countless times over the years. It was the death mask of a Vampire.

And she was wearing it.

Her eyes were milky and pale, her skin was ashen, her cheekbones hollow, her lips colorless and parched. She was wearing the façade of the dead. Which meant that...she was one of them...

Noah gripped her shoulders and turned her around to face him. "It's best if you don't think about it, Bethalie. Thinking on it, dwelling on it, only makes it worse. Trust my words. What's done is done. There's nothing to do now but to try and relax so you can go back downstairs and feed."

She needed to go back downstairs and feed. On who? As that question zipped through her mind, she felt herself go stiff. Evyn! She had been going to...

"You're weak, Bethalie," Noah said to her, his large eyes going soft with sympathy. "If you were full and feeling stronger, you would have no such thoughts."

Maybe he was right, but she'd had them.

She was becoming a danger to Evyn. How was she supposed to handle that? How was she ever again going to look Evyn in the face, knowing that if Noah hadn't been there...she would have done something she would not have been able to live with?

"Don't think those thoughts. I am here to keep you from hurting anyone," Noah assured her, taking hold of her and pulling her against him. "You must keep yourself nourished. That is the most important thing for you right now. It will stave off your need for my sort of food."

"For how long?" she heard herself ask him, her voice tremulous and thin.

How long would it be before human food stopped satisfying her? How long before she gave into the urge to taste Noah's food? And then what? What would happen to her? Would Bethalie Sanderson be gone completely? Would she be able to continue on as Ward of Port Angeles?

"I don't want you to transition, Bethalie," Noah said, tightening his arms on her. "I don't want you to give up your life and your work. No one should have this done to them unless they are willing and I could not be more regretful."

A sudden thought occurred to Bethalie and she felt a ray of hope dawn within her. "Noah, wh-what if I...what if I keep dosing myself with silver?" she asked, her breath quickening. "The silver kept me from transitioning for this long. Maybe...maybe it would hold it off—"

"Or maybe it would kill you," Noah stated darkly, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. "You shouldn't risk it."

"But, I can still touch silver. It can't hurt to try—"

"It might kill you, Bethalie," he said again, putting a bit of iron in his words. "You only need to keep yourself nourished. You needn't do anything rash at this point."

Bethalie felt her resolve strengthen. Noah Grey might be her sire, but Noah Grey did not own her. She would do what she needed to do in order to carry out her duties as Ward.

Noah stepped back so that he could look down at her, his expression unreadable. "You're looking better now. I think it's safe for you to go down and feed."

She nodded at him, setting her jaw. She knew what she had to do. And she meant to do it.

"Don't focus on Evyn. She cut her finger while she was cooking, which is why you locked on her," Noah explained to her. "Keep your focus on me until you get some food in your system. It shouldn't be a problem after that."

Something about his words eased Bethalie a bit. If it was that Evyn had been bleeding and not because she simply wanted to go after her, then she could deal with that. That would not prickle at her conscience...as much.

"You'll keep your focus on me, won't you, mīla?" Noah asked, taking her up into his arms and cradling her against his chest.

Oh shit.

Noah had just called her mīla. That was an old term that Vampires used for the one they considered...their beloved. Maybe she shouldn't have allowed him to have sex with her. He seemed to be getting in a little deeper than she wanted. No pun intended.

"You won't pay any mind to Evyn until your belly is full?" he urged, his hazel eyes swirling with something that made her shiver.

"I won't," she promised, thinking that he was going to take her back to her bed, but he instead swept her from the loft and down to the living space. Perhaps he thought she was too weak just then.

Bethalie was whisked over to the kitchen table and deposited in a chair and almost instantly a veritable buffet appeared before her. Bethalie kept her word. She kept her gaze focused on Noah, on his striking face and penetrating eyes, and thankfully he sat so close to her that her every breath was thick with his wonderfully masculine smell, negating any scent that might be coming from Evyn.

"Eat, Bethalie," Evyn told her in a tight voice. "You're as white as a ghost."

Noah reached for the glass that held her coffee and brought the straw to her lips, the first sip of the stout, bittersweet beverage hitting her with a jolt. As soon as it landed in her stomach, she knew she was going to be alright. The shot of caffeine seemed to be all she needed to get herself under control. However, the three people gathered around her would not allow her to stop with the caffeine and insisted on force feeding her enough salad and lentil soup to make her burst.

Once she was finished with the food and most of her coffee, Evyn visibly unclenched her intestines and went about cleaning up the dishes. Mace stood and started clearing the table and Noah moved to get to his feet.

"Sit here and rest for a minute, mīla. There's no hurry to push yourself," he told her, bringing a large hand up to cup her cheek for a second before turning away and going over to help Evyn.

Bethalie obeyed, for all of about sixty seconds. Once her three guardians were busy with the cleanup, she took her glass of coffee and stood, heading across the space, her sights set on her weapons cupboard.

"What are you doing, mīla?" Noah called after her.

"Nothing. I'm just checking to make sure I'm stocked up for tonight," she called back, amazed at the innocence she injected into her voice.

Noah didn't come flying after her in an effort to stop her, so she kept going, keeping her pace easy and her muscles relaxed. She didn't want to tip anyone off as to her intentions. Continuing on her way, she made it to her cupboard, opening the doors and keeping her thoughts completely neutral and relaxed, thinking of nothing in particular as she set her gaze on the wooden box she sought.

She easily pulled out the wooden bin that glistened with pulverized silver and reached in, taking a pinch between her fingers and feeling something loosen inside her when her skin didn't start to blister. Not giving a thought to what she was about to do, she dropped the pinch into her glass of coffee, watching it sink instantly because of its weight. Giving the glass a couple of shakes to mix it, she took a breath and put the straw to her lips.

"No! Bethalie!" Noah suddenly roared, but he was too late.

She was already swallowing the mouthful of coffee, feeling the slight grit of the silver as it made its way down her throat.

Hard hands gripped her, spinning her around. "Bethalie, what in hell have you done!" Noah bellowed, his voice filled with desperation.

Apparently, she hadn't done anything too terrible because she wasn't dying—her thought was cut off as her stomach seemed to seize up into a painful, burning knot that blinded her vision and sucked the wind from her lungs. She wanted to scream out as the fiery agony gripped her, buckling her knees and twisting her bones, but she didn't have the breath.

Damn.

Apparently, she had done something terrible...

Well, at least she'd done herself in before Bartholomew Grey had a chance to gloat over her corpse. As that small victory sank in on her, she was swallowed up by darkness.

*  *  *  *  *  *

"Bethalie? Bethalie, mīla, can you hear me?" a deep voice called to her...and it did not sound too happy.

Bethalie opened her eyes, her lungs sucking in a loud breath and her body sitting bolt upright without any effort from her. The first sight to greet her eyes was the face of one very pissed off Vampire who was glaring at her with such...wrath...she thought for a split second he might actually tear her head off. The second sight to greet her was the pallid, stricken face of Evyn, who looked to be on the verge of fainting dead away.

"Evyn—" she began, but strong hands taking hold of her shoulders and jerking her to her feet cut her off, causing a little shriek to burst from her throat.

"Bethalie, why the hell did you do that!" Noah growled at her, giving her a shake that caused her head to snap backward. "You could have killed yourself! Is that what you're trying to do! If you're trying to end yourself then just tell me and I'll do it for you! It'll spare you the pain of having your insides burned to dust!"

Evyn let out a little sob and turned on her heel, walking away across the loft with a very tense looking Mace right behind her.

Bethalie knew she should feel guilt for causing Evyn to be upset, but that guilt was overridden by the white hot anger that surged up inside her. Before she could stop herself, her fist was flying right at Noah, cracking loudly against the side of his enraged face. The next instant a baton was in her hand, extended and whistling through the air as she aimed for his knee joint. It struck him, sending him stumbling a step sideways and even as he let out an aggravated roar, her other hand was clutching the handle of her second baton and she was striking Noah from the other side, landing blows to first one knee and then the other, hitting him so hard and so fast her mind couldn't keep up, but was just swept along with the rest of her.

She was battering Noah Grey, aiming for knees and ankles until he was on the floor, doubled over and snarling like a livid animal. She brought a baton down across the back of his neck and sent him sprawling forward. She heard her baton clatter to the floor and then her Bowie knife was in her hand and she was launching herself at Noah, the blade poised to be plunged through the back of his skull.

"Stop!" a shrill voice shrieked a split second before Evyn was there, throwing herself in front of Bethalie to block the blow that would end Noah Grey.

Bethalie shrieked, too, pulling herself up short just before the long blade reached Evyn, her body pitching sideways in an effort to miss piercing the girl's chest cavity. Stumbling a few steps, she straightened up and spun back around to face three very stunned people, one pale and tear stained, one wide eyed and anxious, one milky eyed and looking near to bursting with rage.

With her veins thrumming with adrenaline and fury, Bethalie sheathed her knife and bent to retrieve her baton, pinning Noah Grey with what she hoped was a flesh scorching glare.

"Do...not...ever...put your hands on me," she stated, her voice surprisingly steady. "If you do it again...no one will be able to save you. No one."

That said, she turned and walked away toward the front door of the loft, retracting and holstering her batons as she went, thinking it might do her some good to get a little fresh air. Otherwise, she might be tempted to turn around and kill Noah Grey after all.

Bethalie hit the elevator and slammed the gate closed, pulling the lever and thinking that the loud clamor of the gears wasn't loud enough for her liking. She felt as though the sound should have been deafening just then. As the elevator touched down, she flung the gate open, stepping out into her garage and stalking over to the work table where a line of wooden crates waited for her. She needed something to do just then besides picturing herself driving her knife straight through Noah Grey and opening him up like a gutted fish.

She made it to the work table and tore off the lid of the first crate, which was filled with Elecampane, carrying it over to the proper cupboard and pouring it into the proper wooden bin. It wasn't until she was tearing off the lid of the third crate that she heard the elevator clamoring up to the loft and then rattling back down. The gate screeched open and a few seconds later a shape appeared at her side, looming there while she opened the container of...Datura petals.

With a gasp, Bethalie recoiled, her memory of choking on the noxious fumes the night before sending her stumbling away from the blood red flowers.

"I'll handle these," Noah said, picking up the box from the table and turning to face her. "Where do they go?"

Bethalie pointed to the open cupboard across the space and Noah went in that direction while she tore into the last box, which contained the powdered lye. Noah appeared to take that one from her, too, and as soon as he walked away she spun and made for the exit. However, halfway there Noah was suddenly in front of her, blocking her escape, towering over her and glaring down at her with eyes that could have sliced through stone.

"You should not have done that to yourself, Bethalie," he said through clenched teeth. "You could have been killed."

"But, I wasn't," she responded through teeth that were just as clenched as his.

"It hurt you, Bethalie. You...you were screaming," he told her and for a second he squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to block out the memory. "I thought you were dying. Evyn thought you were dying. It wasn't fair to do that to either of us."

Being a Ward was filled with moments that were not fair. "I had to try."

"You did not have to try," he said stiffly. "You chose to try and that was a foolish and thoughtless thing for you to do."

"I'm not arguing with you over this. This is none of your business," she stated, keeping her hands firmly fisted at her sides so as not to reach for her weapons.

For a second Noah looked like she'd slapped him right in the face. "Bethalie, you are my business! Everything you do is my business now! Every breath you draw, every time your heart beats inside your chest, it is my business! To stand and watch you die by your own hand, simply out of willful stubbornness, would crush me to dust!"

Bethalie rolled her eyes around in her head. Vampires were a touch on the overly dramatic side.

But, that was how it happened for them. Once they decided to take a mate, they instantly fell into an impassioned, zealous, frenzied place and in that place their mate became their sole focus, their obsession, the one person they would lay down and die for without hesitation. Novels were written about that sort of passionate devotion...and it was a beautiful thing...on paper. However, when faced with a lovelorn Vampire who was hovering and looming and trying to interfere in every aspect of a girl's life, even when that aspect had absolutely nothing to do with him...it was not so beautiful. It was, in fact, irritating.

And then it suddenly occurred to her that she had absolutely meant to kill Noah Grey.  She'd meant to thrust her knife blade into him, end him, and then cut him up like so much meat.  And there had been no pain nor lamenting over being without him.  And that realization served to...ease something inside of her.  

Apparently, blood bond or not, she wasn't completely at Noah's mercy.  She was still...she...on a certain level, and perfectly willing to dispatch even her sire if he chose to get out of line with her.

And owing to that fact...and the little surge of freedom she felt unfurl inside of her...she decided she could have mercy on the poor guy. For now. "Let's forget about it, alright? It's over and done with. I didn't get burned to dust and with any luck this dose will help me for a while."

Noah looked down at her and let out a sharp breath. "Bethalie, you were dying right in my arms. If it hadn't been for the concoction the Witch gave you, I fear you might have."

"The concoction..." The memory of Sue giving her the vial of ruby liquid flashed through her mind. "What...what happened? What did you do?"

Noah lifted a broad shoulder. "I remembered the Witch saying it would save you, so I fed it to you. I don't know if that had anything to do with it, but you stopped screaming almost immediately."

So...did that mean she couldn't tolerate the silver and Sue's concoction had somehow spared her life? Or did that mean she could tolerate the silver and the concoction had absolutely nothing to do with it?

Damn.

Noah was right. Why did Witches have to be so obscure!

Well, either way, she wasn't sure that dosing herself with silver again was a very wise idea, at least not until she'd had a chance to go back and talk to Sue. If it had been the woman's remedy and she didn't have another dose in the loft, her next attempt might mean the end of...everything.

"Do you think you can forgive me, Bethalie?" Noah suddenly urged, his brows lowered and his expression pained. "I'm sorry for putting my hands on you like that. There is no excuse that I can give other than I was out of my mind with anger. But, I am sorry."

Bethalie let out a breath of her own. She could forgive. She understood how he must have felt. But, she would never forget. "I forgive you. But, if there's next time, I'll kill you."

Noah was sweeping her into his arms then, crushing her against him and breathing in her smell. "Please, mīla, try and at least warn me before you go and do something life threatening. I'd like the chance to brace for it."

She nodded, but made no promises. "I have work to do," she said, trying to extricate herself from Noah's arms, which was no easy feat because he wasn't ready to let go.

"Are you going after the Witches?" questioned Noah, tucking her against his side as they headed back for the elevator.

"I'm going after someone who has been calling one of the Witches," she answered.

If Jenna Hawes and her Sister Witches were involved in the killings...then they were getting the names of offenders from somewhere. And, barring that one of them actually worked on the Narc-line...she'd guess there was no better path for her to follow than the path that led right back to Lance Morgan, who actually did work the phones and therefore had access to each and every name slated for her list.