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because he knew once he got her in his arms, the world would melt away and problems would disappear. Are there really problems?

For weeks now, he had debated it. He didnā€™t think there was anything wrong between them, but there were little things in Liaā€™s mood swings that raised red flags in his mind. Firstly, she hadnā€™t pressed him to get married anytime soon. He assumed it was because she was old-fashioned and would expect the man to officially ask when the time was right. But they both knew they were getting married. The only thing left to wait for was the remainder of Liaā€™s possessions and animals to be transferred to their new ranch, and for legal affairs to be settled regarding Makal Island.

The little island was an unofficial and unmapped part of the California island chain, inaccessible from the sea with its steep cliffs and rocky base, and too far away from the mainland to be valuable as a home for anyone who didnā€™t want to be utterly isolated. That was exactly what Viktor had wanted. He had privately owned the island for nearly a century, and it had been Liaā€™s home for almost as long. Hidden from the world by sheer inconvenience. And that was why Brandt couldnā€™t live there and Lia had agreed to come to the mainland.

The State of California continued to push her to sell it, but her preference was to keep it just in case. Just in case of what? In case she changed her mind about marrying me? Lia acted like she was the happiest person on earth, and would say as much whenever asked. She loved Brandt. He loved her. They laughed, they played, they danced, they planned, they cuddled, they talked, they went out, they stayed in, and they made love like crazed rabbits. They lived as happy as any couple in any romance story. And yet, there were fleeting moments, almost imperceptible, when she was aloof. She wouldnā€™t meet his eye. She said everything was fine, but there was a touch of sorrow in her eyes. Brandt hoped it was something else. Maybe she just missed her father. For a hundred years, Viktor was all she had, and he had given her everything she could ever want as long as she stayed on the island, hiding from the danger that eventually found them both. Certainly, she might have sudden bouts of grief, random thoughts, or things that might trigger a remembrance, if thatā€™s what was happening to her. But Brandt didnā€™t think these were the reasons. Something else was up. He couldnā€™t put his finger on it. Maybe it was nothing, and maybe his all-too-easily paranoid brain was reading into things. He simply didnā€™t know. But it was always what he didnā€™t know that worried him.

The helicopter door slid open. A large German Shepherd bounded out and charged full steam at Brandt.

ā€œBuck! Hey boy, come ā€˜ere,ā€ called Brandt.

Brandt had bought Buck to be Liaā€™s shadow. Buck was a protector and companion, and a source for blood in a pinch. If he was ever needed for blood, he wouldnā€™t be harmed, as Lia never harmed the animals she drank from. The feeding process was found to be pleasant, and she never took very much from any one animal. So far, she hadnā€™t needed Buck in that capacity.

Buck raced to Brandt and slammed into his legs. The dog pressed himself so hard against Brandtā€™s knees that they buckled, and he lurched sideways to maintain his balance. Buck whined and yipped as Brandt rubbed his neck.

Lia stepped down from the helicopter. The memory of her beauty hadnā€™t faded during the extended absence, but nonetheless, his breath caught in his throat when he saw her. Her flawless cream-colored skin, combined with her pale golden hair, made her resemble an immortal elf queen. Albeit a more modernized one, wearing a white turtleneck blouse, tan skirt, black boots, and tan gloves. A wide-brimmed hat was her standard sun protection for her head, and the parasol held above her made doubly sure. Despite being completely covered everywhere she went, her pristine complexion, radiant manner, and bright smile turned heads. Flashing that brilliant smile, she waved at him.

His life and soul had been given to this woman. His Lia.

She quickened her stride toward Brandt. Brandt wanted to meet her halfway, but the dog was insistent on blocking the path. Brandt tried to side-step the dog, but Buck was allowing no escape from his demand for more petting. Lia laughed soundlessly when Brandt threw up his arms in surrender. She hurried the final few steps, crushed herself against his body, and wrapped her arms around his neck, somehow managing to not smack Brandt in the head with her parasol. As he held her, her feet left the ground. The effort of lifting Lia involved very little strain as she weighed about the same as a Beagle. Another one of the effects of being a vampyre, having very little water in her body. She ate greedily at his lips.

Oh, yes! God, he missed her. They kissed for several seconds before she pulled back for breath.

ā€œWell, hello there,ā€ said Brandt.

ā€œHello back,ā€ she answered with a grin.

They released their grip on each other and she slid back to the ground. She maintained an arm around Brandtā€™s waist while the other propped the parasol above them both. The sweet smile she beamed up at him was the cure for any ailment. Whatever troubles or problems he had been killing himself over were forgotten in that moment. Staring into her luminous, ice-blue eyes had the effect of erasing the rest of the world to where only Lia existed. He was about to ask her how her flight was when she stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She dug into him as if he tasted like chocolate.

Shrinking back in partial embarrassment, she said bashfully, ā€œSorry. I just missed you.ā€

He nuzzled her nose with his. ā€œUnderstandable. I am pretty awesome.ā€

She gave him a crooked smirk. ā€œOh? Do you wish a rematch in the teasing competition?ā€

Brandt chuckled. ā€œNo, no, you won that fair and square. Itā€™s your crown. Iā€™m just your fool. A fool who loves you.ā€

ā€œGood. Itā€™ll take up too much of our time together to think of good teases. Iā€™d much rather just have sex.ā€

Gee, do I gotta? Brandt patted her butt.

She clucked at Buck who fell dutifully in line as they all walked toward Brandtā€™s truck.

Back on the road, Lia sat primly in the passenger seat, while Buck had to be content with the back seat. He pushed his head over the center console as a compromise. Several drops of drool hit the consoleā€™s arm, and Tomā€™s envelope of photos caught a few splatters. Lia noticed and rescued them from further abuse.

ā€œAre these important?ā€ she asked.

ā€œJust some crime scene photos from a case Tom has me working on.ā€

ā€œOh, good.ā€ Lia mustā€™ve realized that her comment could be misconstrued because she quickly added. ā€œI mean, Iā€™m glad you have a new case. Youā€™re always happier when you are working.ā€

Brandt almost laughed aloud. When Iā€™m working? He hadnā€™t stopped working since he killed a vampyre named Mikhail, then drove his yacht into Ventura Harbor to hand it over to the Coast Guard. When he wasnā€™t doing his consulting job, he was running around taking care of things to get Lia settled in their new home: He had researched it; found it; bought it; hired the right hands; fixed up the inside; got the furniture; moved the stuff that came from Liaā€™s island; contracted and helped the contractors fix up all the windows to make sure that the house had perfect UV protection, so no matter what room Lia was in, she was comfortable and safe; bought two cars; paid someone to create a fake birth certificate for Lia so she could get a driver license; and his coup de grace was the attic he had turned into Liaā€™s new professional-grade library and office. She still hadnā€™t seen that yet. Of course, she knew more or less about it, after all, she did read minds, but she hadn't seen it finished, and Brandt had pushed through the final touches on it while she was gone. She was going to be blown away. Or so he hoped. He wanted so much for her to be happy, and he thought he was accomplishing it, but it took work. So, yeah, he was definitely happiest when he was working.

ā€œYou know what I mean,ā€ said Lia, probably sensing his mental eye roll. ā€œI am quite aware of the incredible amount of work youā€™ve put into the house to get us settled here.ā€

Apology accepted. A coy smile escaped Liaā€™s lips as she patted his thigh with her gloved hand, but then, like a switch was flipped, her smile dampened a degree. There it is again. That little itch in Brandtā€™s mind that he couldnā€™t scratch. Lia leaned against the door and looked out the tinted window at the terrain streaking by.

Her emotions had always been mercurial, and though Brandt was used to the abrupt swings, they were still curious. He had never discovered whether they were a byproduct of vampyrism, or just some personal quirk. Regardless of the reason, Lia's feelings were rarely subtle, and usually unfiltered. She was undeniably a terrible liar. And that little drop from warm smile to tepid just felt wrong. Something was up.

Brandt really didnā€™t think Lia would change her mind about him, or about living with him on the mainland rather than her island. She had never wavered in her devotion to him, or her assertion that she was, in essence, his, and would rather die than lose him. But Brandt never understood why she adored him so much. In his opinion, he hadnā€™t earned her undying love, and believed she could have any man she wanted. So, whenever he made decisions regarding their future or spending her money, he always did it with flexibility in case there was the slightest possibility that she may need to back out. Everything remained hers, and only hers, so he wouldnā€™t have a claim on any assets to pull the metaphoric rug out from under her. The prime example was the house. He bought it with her money (formally Viktorā€™s money, since Liaā€™s father had kept millions from his days in the aristocracy), and it was titled to her and only her. Her house. Yes, they would both live in it for the foreseeable future of their marriage, and physically share all the things her money bought, but legally everything would remain hers. It was the least he could do to assure that Lia never got trapped. She had been shackled to that island for nearly a century, in part because of Mikhail, and in part from fear of being discovered by the cruel, ignorant public. And though she stoically accepted her fate, Brandt never wanted her to feel trapped again. Even with him. If something bad happened, or she just wasnā€™t ready, or may not want him anymore, he wanted her to be free to do whatever was necessary for her survival and happiness. She had assured him she wasnā€™t going to change her mind, and Brandt believed her, but there was still the tiniest seed of uncertainty. And a moment ago, when her warm smile suddenly cooled, that little nagging doubt crept back. Brandt couldnā€™t shake it.

He knew he had a history of being paranoid. Except that, a few months ago, most of his paranoid worries had come true.

Ok, bad example.

Brandtā€™s truck halted in front of the iron gates that marked the entrance to their Ventura ranch. A chain-driven mechanism behind the concrete stanchions slowly rotated the heavy gates inward until there was enough room to pass through. Straight ahead was the house, appearing small in the distance.

The property was formerly owned by a celebrity who had renovated the place with high concrete walls, heavy iron gates, and other security measures for privacy

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