Down in the cabin below, the vampire rested up, the pain from his wounds biting at his flesh. His sleep was disturbed by the lack of his soil, left above at his lair. At night, he considered raiding one of the nearby cabins, but no one else seemed to be around. People were either frightened by the murders or avoiding the storm, he wasn't sure which. He didn't have the strength to make it down to Damon's Canyon, and his hunger and rage increased. Surely, the bitch would pay for this when he was well. He stood on the front porch, looking up at the moon which played hide-and-seek with the clouds. A full moon was almost here. He would be powerful and he would make his enemies pay dearly. Damon Benyu screamed up at the moon, the voice of the screech owl strafing through the forest into the darkness. He would be fed.

Ten miles above, the voice of the vampire filtered through the crystal air, landing with banshee-pitched tones on Crabapple's delicate hearing and nerves. She whinnied with fear and yanked hard on the reins. Once, twice. On the third yank, the reins snapped, and she galloped past the startled Duncan and sleeping Diana, spraying them with snow as she fled into the night.

As Diana sat up in the sleeping bag, she looked at Duncan with resignation. "Well, I sure hope you like hiking as much as you say you do in your articles. From here on out, we're on foot. Wake me when it's my turn for watch." With that pronouncement, she nestled back inside the bag and laid her head down in Duncan's lap, falling asleep immediately.

The first of November dawned with a clear sky and lower temperatures. Diana and Duncan arose and breakfasted lightly, then contemplated what they would continue to carry in the backpack and what had to be left behind with the saddle.

"Let's dump the change of clothes, except for the socks. Always hang on to your socks, nothing like cold feet to ruin a perfectly good hike. Don't ever let it be said that Diana Lorraine gets cold feet. Let's see, dump the canned food and the shovel, keep the survival stuff. We'll keep one canteen each, leave the other two with the saddle. We'd better hang on to the quilt and the sleeping bag. It's going to get damn cold up there tonight," Dina said, looking up at the sky. "Let's go, Duncan."

She shouldered the canteens and the sleeping bag,, rolling up the quilt like rug and draping it over her shoulders. Duncan carried the pack and carbine. They walked single file, Duncan behind Diana, as she guided him through the forest. Their footsteps crunched in the snow, Diana warning the writer of an icy patch or a rock hidden beneath the white powder.

Morning stretched into the afternoon, and Diana began to worry. A full moon was coming, and it was imperative they make it to their destination before the vampire. She hoped that his wounds had slowed him down enough for them to get there first.

Their breath was becoming ragged, even though they paced themselves during the long hike. The path still rose steeply upward, the fallen leaves slippery beneath the snow. Duncan could feel his calf muscles starting to burn and the straps from the backpack were starting to chafe his shoulders.

"We're almost there," Diana whispered, stopping a few paces ahead of him. Duncan removed a glove and glanced at his watch. 4:15 p.m. It would be dark soon.

They moved slowly into the clearing just beyond the end of the trail. They could see the highway leading to the campground. The snow was unbroken before them. The campground appeared ahead of them, the gate open, but no sign of the vampire.

They made their way to the museum, weapons drawn in anticipation. They circled the building until they discovered the unlocked back door. With hand motions and upraised eyebrows, Duncan insisted on going in first. They crept in through the door, noticing the dried bloodstains on the hall floor. They went from room to room until they came to the staff lounge.

Diana reached onto the cot that served as Benyu's resting place. "Leverage," she exclaimed triumphantly, holding the cloth bag containing his native earth. "I'd say we made it here before Mr. Benyu. Let's take a look around outside."

They went back out into the chill air and hiked around the camp area.

"What's that?" Duncan asked, pointing to a circle of rocks.

"He hath builded him an altar," Diana said softly, paraphrasing a verse from the "Battle Hymn of the Republic."

"As in wedding altar?"

"Wedding, sacrifice, mating, whatever you care to call it. I think Damon planned to take me for his bride up here. Well, I'm going to throw him a little surprise bachelor party." She knelt down and took a close look at the branches Damon had set up for his fire. She smiled smugly. "Arrogance. It will be his downfall."

A metallic glitter from beneath the trees behind Diana caught Duncan's eye. They investigated and discovered it was the Camaro. Duncan lifted the hood and tore out the distributor, throwing it a distance into the snow. He broke the spark plugs, hammering them into shards with a rock. "He's going to have to hike out of here if he wants to leave," he said with satisfaction, closing the hood.

They walked back to the museum, harbored from the cold air within its walls. Diana laid out her plan while they waited for dusk. Duncan didn't like it one bit, but she was running the show.

Night came and Diana and Duncan eased out the museum's back door. The clouds scudded across a black sky, the full moon streaming down upon the mountainside.

"It's a harvest moon tonight," Diana said, staring up at the huge orange orb hanging low over the mountains. "Should make for an interesting evening. His power. My power."

Another hour passed.

The sound of a horse's galloping approach and familiar whinny broke the silence.

"That's Crabapple. What's she doing here?" Diana whispered. They went out into the night.

They crunched along in the snow to the altar. Diana reached down and grasped a couple of stakes that she had hewn from the branches the vampire had placed in the ring. She tossed them to Duncan and stood within the ring. She handed him the carbine, one round already chambered in readiness. He rested it against a nearby picnic table, his handgun drawn.

A scream roiled out from the direction of the highway, the terrified shriek of the graveyard horse. The Appaloosa appeared in the moonlight, frantic in her efforts to escape the creature clinging to her dappled body that tore at her throat. The vampire drove her towards the altar and Duncan rushed to put himself between the horse and Diana.

"You're not taking my woman, you bastard!" he shouted, waving his arms.

Crabapple shied at the movement and with the absolute terror of the thing upon her back and reared back. She struck Duncan in the shoulder with one razor-sharp hoof, snapping his clavicle. One broken end of the bone sliced through his skin, catching on his flannel shirt. He cried out and dropped both gun and stakes, falling in the snow. He rolled over onto his stomach and covered his head with one hand as the horse stamped and bucked, trying to lose her hellish leech.

The horse slipped on the ice and went over on her side, her shoulders landing on Duncan. He screamed as a bolt of pain shot through his lower back and through his ribs. He heard and felt bones crunch. Crabapple rolled over on her side and Duncan gasped for air as the weight of the horse left him. The gray horse lay on the ground, her blood spurting from her torn neck. She shrieked and thrashed, but could not get up.

Damon Benyu turned his attention to Duncan, lifting him easily by the shoulders and staring into his eyes. "I shall enjoy taking your woman," the vampire hissed, shaking Duncan as if her were a rag doll. "I was going to make you watch the taking. But I am hungry, and I must feed." He turned Duncan's neck to one side, and leaned forward to bite.

"Damon, wait! Save him for after the ceremony. Then we can both enjoy him." Diana's voice rang out from the altar, husky, sensual, pleading.

The vampire stopped and looked in her direction, then let Duncan drop to the ground feet-first. Duncan felt something else pop in his back and tried to yell, but couldn't muster enough breath. He fell, facing the altar, and a thrill of fear ran through his pain-wracked body.

Diana stood within the ring, naked except for her cross, her lush breasts jutting out. They heaved in the cold. Her clothes littered the ground outside the ring.

Damon neared his altar cautiously, torn between distrust and desire.

"You and I want the same thing," she crooned to him, running her hand down her body.

"What is that, huntress?" the vampire asked thickly, gazing into her eyes.

"Eternal life, to serve the Master."

Duncan groaned. "No, Diana, no." She had played him for a fool, luring him up here to watch this travesty, then to become their wedding feast.

"So you desire this, huntress? You want to feel my kiss upon your neck, the throb of my member between your legs?" Benyu asked, still wary.

"I've thought of nothing else but consummation since you arose again, Phoenix." She swept a hand along her breasts, smiling, her long canines gleaming in the moonlight.

"Why have you changed your mind? You shot me with your silver not forty-eight hours ago."

"It's the hunt, Damon. It's all in the thrill of the hunt. Your blood is hot for me, hot with anger and desire. Think of how much hotter it will be when we consummate the hunt upon our altar. Besides, you violated my territory. I don't like anyone trespassing upon my lair. You know how that feels, don't you?"

The vampire crept forward, stripping off his clothing as he walked steadily forward, a leer of lust upon his wolfen features.

Duncan pulled himself forward with his hands. Pain shot through his shoulder with each movement. The carbine was still leaning against the table. If he could only reach it, he could at least injure both of them before they fell upon him and drank of his lifeblood. Her "lair." My God, what have I been living with, what have I been making love to?

Damon entered the circle, naked, the wounds upon his body still ugly but healing. He looked at the cross around Diana's neck and motioned at it.

"You must remove that. It is a symbol of your faith."

Diana looked down between her breasts for a moment, then lifted the cross from around her neck.

Duncan neared the table with agonizing slowness. He could see that the vampire's member was rigid, crimson flecks of semen oozing onto the tip. The injured writer began to pray in a whisper.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name..."

Diana dropped the cross onto one of the branches within the altar, glancing up seductively at the vampire. She ran her hands down her body and played with her red pubic hair, gyrating her hips slightly. Her eyes closed halfway as she rubbed herself, and her mouth opened in pleasure.

Damon came to her, exploring her breasts with his hands, his rod protruding towards her labia. He kissed her neck, then bit slightly, drawing a small ribbon of blood as she gasped, turning her hips sideways.

"Wait! I want you to take me from behind," Diana said, holding the vampire's hips at bay. "And we must light the altar, first. Consummation by fire, remember?"

"I'll get matches," the vampire said, licking her blood.

"I have a lighter in my pants pocket. If I lean forward, I can just reach it," Diana responded. She bent at the hips, canting her smooth white ass upwards at the vampire. She reached outside the fire ring to retrieve the lighter she had used to ignite the candle at The Log Jam on Independence Day. Damon watched her behind with avarice. She would be his, this red-haired bitch in heat.

Diana met Duncan's eyes for a moment as she leaned forward. Her tawny eyes narrowed as she saw him reach for the carbine, a trail of blood from his wounded shoulder marking his torturous path through the snow. As she straightened up, he could see the glitter of silver in her hand.

"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven..."

"Shall I light the fire, Damon?" She flicked the lighter.

"Yes, huntress. Then we shall mate."

She lit the kindling, and the flames quickly caught and spread around the branches arranged within the ring. She stepped towards Damon and turned her back to him. He took her by the shoulders, easing his hands down to her hips.

"Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us..."

Duncan leveled the carbine at Diana's heart from his prone position and remembered what Diana had told him. Four shots, in the sign of the Cross.

There was a reflection of silver in his sighting and he widened his focus. Diana had her hands clasped between her breasts, her silver cross dangling from her fingers. He moved his focus to her face, and their eyes met again. She smiled slightly, the same smile she had given him that first time in Neal Maston's shop. She raised the cross to her lips and kissed it, closing her eyes with rapture on her face.

Duncan whispered louder, "And lead us not into temptation..."

Duncan became aware of the thudding of hooves. A coal black beast of immense proportions swept into his view, laden with a strawberry blond rider. A completely naked strawberry blond rider.

I'm hallucinating, his mind cried out. Gabriella's ridden right out of her painting and into my mind.

The vision paused for a just a moment next to a boulder that huddled beneath a snowy cloak. Duncan heard the splintering crack of wood against rock. The rider guided her mount to the altar, executing a perfect relay hand-off of a ragged-edged object to Diana.

"Batter up, Mom!" Gabriella yelled as she drove her horse away from the flames.

Nope, it's Gabby, in the flesh, Duncan assured himself with a brief, pained smile, his memory fleeting back to that morning in Diana's kitchen when they'd first met.

"But deliver us from evil..." Diana continued the prayer in a commanding voice as she spun around to face Damon Benyu who stood open-mouthed at the appearance of this younger version of his huntress. Diana held the shattered bat in one hand, the other grasped his still-erect penis, the cross laid across her palm. She dipped the broken end of the bat in the flames and brought it to her neck, cauterizing the bite wound, then let go of the vampire's steaming shaft.

Damon screeched the cry of the strigoi mort as the silver burned and embedded itself into his flesh. At that instant, Diana drove the makeshift stake into the vampire's chest, both hands clasped around the handle, her powerful shoulder muscles bunching to make the single blow count. The sound of the impaling was that of a rotten watermelon splitting open on cement. Black blood gushed from the wound as Damon gaped at her, red-rimmed eyes wide in surprise.

Diana backed out of the circle of fire, seemingly impervious to the flames, and out of Duncan's line of fire. She gathered up her clothes as she backed away. Duncan noticed with ludicrous clarity that she was still wearing her socks. "Nothing like cold feet to ruin a perfectly good hike," she had said. Diana Lorraine never got cold feet.

"You bitch!" the vampire hissed, vainly trying to pry the stake from his chest. "You lied! You said you wanted immortality, to serve Satan!" Blood began to drip from his mouth.

"You need to pay better attention. I said I wanted eternal life, which I will have when I pass from this life into heaven. And, to be correct, I said I wanted to serve the Master. There is only one Master I serve, God in Heaven."

"But you said you wanted this mating!" His member continued to smoke beneath the cross.

"I said I wanted consummation. You are going to be consumed by fire on the altar where you thought you'd consummate your unholy marriage." Diana quickly pulled on her thermal underwear and jeans.

"You cannot destroy me! I am the Great Bennu, born on the Incense Trees in the House of the Great Prince in Heliopolis!"

"You are the lowly Daymon Benugert, born in 1602 on Ile de St. Michel, excommunicated from the church in 1633 because of your practice of witchcraft, hanged and risen from the grave that same year," Diana stated, throwing on her parka and stepping into her boots.

"I am Phoenix, risen from the ashes, risen above mortal men!"

"You are vampyr, eretik, and you are about to fall into Hell."

The vampire looked down at the stake and back up at her, then smiled evilly.

"I have been staked before, huntress, and I have arisen."

"It's all in the delivery. A stake of the holy ash, baptized with the blood of a true believer," she said, fingering the burned wound on her neck.

Diana kneeled down and tried to pry her carbine from Duncan's stiff, trembling hands. She caressed his hair lightly with one hand. "Let go, my love."

"No," Duncan croaked. "My fight now. This is personal."

He pushed himself to his knees, using the stock of the gun as a prop. "Partners, remember?" he wheezed. He jammed the carbine into his good shoulder and raised the barrel with his injured arm.

Diana knelt behind him and wrapped her arms around him, helping him steady the gun. "Partners. I remember." Together, they took careful aim at the vampire.

"By the way, Damon, you might have wanted to spend more time studying botany and forestry rather than history and art. Then you would have known that you stoked your fire with cedar," Diana said calmly.

The vampire's eyes shifted to a point over her shoulder, to the front gate where Diana's naked daughter sat astride her black Fresian stallion, shotgun in hand. The breed of choice for medieval knights, it was the only horse befitting a woman of Gabriella's Amazonian stature and calling. The entry sign still leaned against the fence. Gabriella leaned down, voluminous breasts tumbling forward, and turned the sign around so the lettering became visible. Cedar Grove Campgrounds.

"You picked the one rare site where the cedars grow in a grove rather than mixed in with the rest of the conifers. Purity, as old Jacob said."

Benyu had attributed his weakness to lack of sustenance. Instead, it was the constant exposure to the concentration of the sacred wood. His eyes shot back to Diana.

"Before you go, Damon, I feel I should make a proper introduction to my partner. This is Duncan Sloan. Of the Colorado Sloans."

"Great-Grandfather sends his regards," Duncan uttered, his throat parched and raw. He glared at the monster in the fire-ring.

"The specialist? Jeremiah Sloan? I tore out his throat and drained him dry. He is the reason I ended up in that intellectual wasteland down below!"

"Well, get used to being down below, Damon. Hell is about as "down below" as you can get."

"I am not dead yet! I will have your blood, huntress bitch!" the vampire howled, taking a step towards his enemies.

"Oh, bite me!" Diana responded, unperturbed.

She intoned, "For thine is the kingdom..." Duncan fired, the first round catching Damon to the left of the imbedded stake. The vampire screamed in rage. They levered another round into the chamber. Duncan jammed the butt of the gun back into his shoulder. There was a crunching and cracking sound from his broken collarbone.

"And the power..."

He fired again, this time just to the right of the stake, evoking another howl.

"And the glory..." The third shot caught him at the base of his still-smoking member. He shrieked in pain. The carbine's lever ka-chunked again.

"Forever and ever. Amen." The final round was centered right between his red-rimmed eyes.

Damon Benyu's body exploded into ash, the gray powder drifting down onto the cedar-fueled flames. The flames turned the translucent jet black of polished obsidian.

"Damon Benyu, Daymon Benugert, on the day of All Saints, I deliver you into the hands of the Creator for your final judgment. Earth to earth," she said, removing the bag of his native earth from her parka pocket and emptying it into the flames. She dropped the bag into the fire. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. This I do in the name of God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen." Diana made the sign of the cross over the dwindling fire.

Diana turned her attention to the wounded Duncan. Gabriella dismounted, came over and took the carbine from her mother. The tall blonde walked somberly to where Crabapple lay, the horse now managing only labored moaning. She stroked the Appaloosa's cheek and neck, then placed the gun against the horse's forehead at a point high on the muzzle. She fired, and Crabapple lay still and quiet in the snow.

"We have to get him out of here," Diana said to her daughter as Gabriella stood over where she ministered to Duncan. His breathing was shallow, and there was a bluish pallor to his lips. "He's broken up inside, possibly a broken back. He's bleeding pretty heavily from the shoulder. We don't have time to get him down the hill." She stroked his hair as he lay, his face resting on his good arm.

"Then we go up. There's a medic helicopter on alert. I called them from the cabin as soon as I found out it had become a war zone. I figured we might need backup. We'll have to get him up to The Rock. The helicopter can land on the flat outcropping like they do with the rescue chopper when they have to drop off supplies to the fire lookout."

"We'd better get moving. Gabby, get the sleeping bag and the quilt from the museum. Do you have a rope?"

"Of course, Mom. I'm always prepared." Gabby ran back to her mount and pulled on her clothing and boots, then hustled off to the museum.

"You hang on, Duncan. We're getting you out of here." Diana unsheathed a knife that was hidden in her boot. She used the serrated edge of the knife to cut the small branchlets off a couple of long pine branches.

Duncan muttered into his arm.

"What did you say?" Diana leaned over him, straining to hear his weak voice.

"I said, you scared me. Thought you were turning. All that talk about temptation."

"Never. It's all in the methodology, I told you. Have to get close enough to recover them before I can deliver them."

Gabriella came back with the sleeping bags and rope. She carried a thin piece of wood from one of the shelving units from the museum's display area.

"We're going to have to make a travois to carry him up the hill, aren't we? Can't risk moving him around too much and doing further damage. Brought this to make a backboard," Gabriella said, handing the shelf to her mother. She reached into the front of her sheepskin coat and pulled out some white towels. "I found these in one of the lockers. You'll need it for that shoulder."

They fashioned a crude travois with the branches and sleeping bag. Gabriella held the shelf in place on Duncan's back with one hand, pulling a roll of silver-gray tape from the pocket of her parka. "Found this, too. You can never have too much duct tape."

Diana taped the ersatz backboard to the injured man, then the two women carefully teamed up to turn him face-up and laid him on top of the travois. He moaned in pain as they moved him, his face contorting.

"I'm sorry, we have to do this. Hang on a little while longer."

Duncan's shoulder began to bleed profusely as the pressure from lying on the ground was released. Diana worked rapidly to stanch the flow with the towels, using the duct tape to fashion a figure-eight around his shoulders to keep them in place.

Diana wrapped the quilt around Duncan as Gabriella led her horse to the front of the travois.

"Okay, Twilight, back up, that's a good boy. Stay still. Good boy."

The composed equine stood his ground as Diana and Gabriella stood on each side of him and rigged the travois to the saddle with rope. Gabriella swung into the saddle.

"All set?" She looked back as Diana took up a position next to the injured man. She bent down, slung her carbine over her shoulder, and nodded.

It took them thirty minutes to haul Duncan four hundred feet up the path to the fire lookout on top of The Rock. They had to traverse switchbacks slippery with ice, Duncan gasping for breath with every bump. By the time they reached the immense granite overlook, the moon had disappeared behind the cloudy face of the sky, and white flakes were starting to fall.

Gabriella removed a leather glove and reached into a pocket for her cell phone. "Rescue One, come get us. And hurry up, the weather's closing in fast." She listened for a brief response and placed the phone back in her pocket. "They're on their way."

They waited, straining to hear the sound of the helicopter's rotor in the darkness.

"You know, I came up here without any stakes. Seth and I accidentally left the bag at the Scheinblums' cabin when we went in. I knew we'd have the cedar to work with when we got here, but then Duncan got hurt and I was on my own. What made you think to bring the bat, Gabby?" Diana asked, pulling the quilt up around Duncan's neck.

"I saw that Jacob's shop had burned to the ground as I drove through town. You had told me in our last phone call that he was just starting on the stakes, so I figured out that you probably hadn't gotten them. Then, when I got to the cabin, I saw the charred hedges, so there went any possibility of stakes there. I hoped you had the bag with you, but I wasn't taking any chances. It was the only thing I could think to grab. "Smokin' Ash." Isn't that what Grandpapa used to call it? It's a good thing you left that rock I'd given you as a paperweight for your birthday on the doormat or I wouldn't have known where you were headed. I rode Twilight up the trail and saw the saddle and stuff you'd left behind. Crabapple's tracks headed out on the part of the trail that leads to the highway. Benyu must have found her on his way up."

"Poor Crabapple. I suppose he got my Ebony, too." Diana scanned the sky.

"No, he didn't. Ebony was happily munching on the grass in the back yard when I got there yesterday afternoon. I put him in the corral, fed him and headed up the trail with Twilight. We rode all night to get here."

"What about my babies? Are they okay?"

"How many did you have last? Five? I counted five cats sitting on the rooftop, watching the world go by."

Duncan murmured something in his breathless whisper. Diana kneeled down next to him, tucking he hand under the quilt to take his good hand in hers. His hand was cold, his complexion a waxy gray.

"What is it, Duncan?" she said, her hair falling over his face as she leaned in to listen.

"So cold. Don't leave me." His eyes searched hers for hope.

"I'm not going anywhere," she answered.

He squeezed her hand slightly. "I love you, Red."

Diana kissed Duncan's forehead, then gently touched her lips to his. "I love you, too, handsome. Hang on a little while longer," she breathed into his ear. She tucked the quilt around him and stood up.

"He can't last much longer," she said in a low voice to her daughter. "Where the hell are they?"

The whump-whump-whump of the helicopter's rotors roared through the canyon. The helicopter, painted white with no identifying markings save for three small silver crosses on the doors, touched down on The Rock. The backwash from the rotors blew granules of decomposed granite and snow in a cloud. Out of the cloud walked a giant in white coveralls and big black boots carrying a stretcher over one broad shoulder.

"Madame needs some help?" the man asked with a heavy German accent.

"Josef! We have to get Duncan to the hospital right away. He's dying."

"We'll have to fly into Bakersfield. The weather's too socked in heading back to Fresno. Help me get him on the stretcher." The mammoth lifted the quilt and untied the rope holding Duncan on the travois, rapidly assessing his injuries. While Gabriella and Diana held the stretcher, the behemoth gently lifted Duncan in his arms and laid him on the canvas webbing. He took the head of the stretcher from Gabriella.

"Mom, I'll do cleanup on the delivery site and head back down the mountain to the cabin. Call me and let me know what hospital you end up at," Gabriella called at her mother's back. Diana dipped her head in acknowledgment as they carried Duncan to the chopper.

Josef and Diana slid Duncan into the helicopter's medical hold, then slammed the door shut and the pilot lifted off. Diana could see her daughter riding Twilight back down the trail to the campground, where she would erase the traces of their delivery and retrieve their gear. Diana would have to come up with a plausible explanation for the authorities as to what happened, but it would have to wait.

Josef worked over Duncan, checking his vitals, administering oxygen, and hooking him up to an IV solution.

Duncan's eyes sought Diana's questioningly.

"This is Josef. Best emergency room doctor you'll ever have. Biggest, too. We'll be at the hospital pretty soon, Duncan. Hang on."

Duncan's eyes closed in exhaustion and pain. The last thing he remembered was the touch of Diana's warm fingers on his forehead.

"Well, well, look who's come back from the dead!" Gabriella brisk voice broke into Duncan's afternoon nap.

He opened his eyes and focused on the blonde horsewoman who was perched on a plastic chair next to his hospital bed.

"Gabby. Thank God, you're dressed this time. What's going on?" Duncan inquired, shifting uncomfortably on the mattress.

"Not much. Just stopped by on my way back to Colorado. Want me to raise the bed?"

"Yeah, just crank up the head a few inches, would you?" he answered gratefully.

"Yours or the bed's?"

"If I want my head cranked and repositioned, I'll ask your mother!"

Gabby relented, pushing the button until Duncan could sit up slightly. It had been two weeks since he came down off the mountain and he was growing stronger each day.

"You're looking pretty good for someone who had four broken ribs, a collapsed lung, herniated disk and three fractured vertebrae. Not to mention that broken collarbone," she added, pointing to his arm that was carried in a sling.

"Thanks. I feel like a got run over by a truck. And this damned back brace itches!"

"Old Crabapple might as well have been a truck, the way she landed on you. Poor baby, she was just doing her job. She might have been high-strung, maybe even mean, but I guess if you were used to track the one thing you were terrified of, you'd be that way, too. I felt really badly about having to get Twilight to haul her into the fishing pond up at Cedar Grove. There will be nothing left but bones come Summer." Gabby shook her head sadly at the memory of the high-strung graveyard horse, disposed of in such a disrespectful manner.

"You know, you lied to me. You said you didn't do what your mother does." Duncan chided.

"I didn't lie! I told you no one can deliver the way she does and that we have our own approaches. She probably enjoyed hiking the rest of the way up to that campground instead of taking the horses. I prefer back-up duty, she likes getting down and dirty. "

"No kidding! I'm not sure I'll ever get over the sight of her stark naked, seducing that vampire. She had me fooled."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? Saved your neck, literally, and she destroyed Benyu."

"What would she have done if you hadn't arrived with the bat?"

"I don't want to think about that. That's why we have faith."

"How did she know what she did would work?"

"She didn't. I guess she figured out that if it took the blood of a devout woman, the destruction of her faith, and the vampire's unholy stake, if you want to call it that, to fully resurrect him, then conversely, she could use those same elements to destroy him. The blood of a devoted woman, complete and utter faith, the sign of the Resurrection, and holy wood."

"She improvised." Duncan shook his head with admiration.

"Whatever works."

"And what possessed you to ride in there buck-naked like that?"

"It's an ancient battle technique used by women warriors throughout history. Scared the crap out of their enemies. Nothing like a naked, well-armed, pissed-off woman to make a guy wonder if putting on the suit of armor and leaving the castle was such a good idea. The element of surprise...it gave Mom enough time to go in for the kill on old Damon."

"It damned near killed me! In fact, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven! How the hell do you expect me to get that vision of you out of my head?"

"A couple more go-rounds with my mother and you'll forget that you ever saw me in the pink, so to speak!" Gabby shot him her wise-ass grin.

"Where is your mom, by the way?"

"I'm right here. Do you feel up to having some company?" Diana said, poking her head around the door.

Duncan turned his head in her direction and his face lit up. "Sure. It gets lonely here day after day."

Diana led in Jacob Carpenter, who was hobbling about with the aid of a walker. A smiling Zara was at his side, her dentures gleaming in the fluorescent glow of the hospital room.

"Jacob! How are you feeling?" Duncan asked.

"A lot better than you look, young man," the honest old carpenter answered. Gabby snorted, trying to repress a laugh. "I got my copy of your magazine. Your pictures of my shop looked real good. Too bad people reading your article won't get to see the real thing, now that it's burned up."

"Well, you're welcome. I'm just sorry you had to suffer such loss. All that work you did, gone."

"It's still there. It's just locked away in here," Jacob assured him, pointing to his head. "I've moved into the empty store next to Zara's shop. I can start again. I still have a few good years left in these old bones."

There was a tap at the door and a raw-boned, fair-haired woman dressed in a Damon's Canyon police uniform stuck her head in the room. "Anyone home?"

"Come on in and join the party," Diana said, waving the woman in. The newcomer had to be at least 6'3" and topped the scales at 200 pounds.

"Duncan, this is our new police Chief, Connie Mulavey."

"Chief Mulavey," Duncan said, shaking her bear-sized hand warmly.

"You can call me Connie. Crazy Connie, that's what they called me in the Valley." She smiled, her face creasing in an expression reminiscent of her late father.

"Connie wrestled a meat cleaver away from a guy who was beating up on his wife. Broke his nose and his arm in the process, and somehow, the cleaver managed to fall and slice off the tip of the guy's penis in the struggle," Diana explained with great seriousness.

"They sewed it back on, but he never beat up on his wife again. It was an accident," Crazy Connie said in her defense, noticing the doubtful look on Duncan's face.

"When are you getting out of here?" Zara asked, eager to change the subject.

"The doctors said another week or so. They want to see how the hardware they put in my back is working out before they release me."

Diana sat on Duncan's hospital bed, taking his good hand in hers. She hesitated before delivering a message to him. "Your editor called my office. He heard that you'd been injured helping to track the local serial killer. He thought it would make an exciting article for the magazine. He said to tell you he was glad it was the killer who fell off The Rock and not you, and to call him as soon as you feel like going back to work. Your job's still open."

Duncan looked out the window. The peaks of the Tehachapi Mountains glowed with a fresh dusting of snow in the distance. He turned and met Diana's feline eyes with resolution in his cobalt blue ones. "Tell my editor I'm sorry, but it will have to be a freelance article, and they'll have to pay me a good price for my work when it's delivered. Tell him I went crazy and ended up in an institution and I plan to be there a long time."

"What institution?" Diana looked at him as if he truly had gone crazy.

"The institution of marriage. Tell him it's going to take me a long while to recover."

"Is that a proposal?" Diana asked, cocking her head to one side and narrowing an eye at him as if avoiding a trail of cigarette smoke.

"Yes, ma'am, it is."

"Tell me something. Back at the campgrounds, when you were aiming at my heart--would you have pulled the trigger?"

"All four shots, just like you taught me," Duncan responded without hesitation.

Diana nodded with grave solemnity. "Good. You have learned well, my love. Willing to sacrifice yourself, able to sacrifice me. Stick with me and I'll teach you all sorts of things."

"I'll bet you can. Is that an acceptance?"

"Yes, sir, it is," Diana countered. She leaned forward and kissed his lips tenderly, brushing his cheek with her fingers.

Zara hustled everyone out of the hospital room, pulling Gabriella out by the wrist as the younger woman began to launch into tirade about "old horny people."

Duncan squeezed Diana's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the long fingers of his lover, his mentor, his partner. Fingers that brought death to darkness, fingers that caressed with love. Hands of death, hands of life.

"Well, Diana, you've gained possession of my heart. What happens now, Teacher?"

"Have you had your sponge bath today?" she said, slipping her hand beneath Duncan's blankets as she eased carefully onto the bed alongside him.

"No, I haven't. Do you want to give it to me?"

"Hey! Isn't that my line? And do you think you're up to it?" She eyed her injured lover with skepticism.

"Oh, I think if you start rubbing me all over I can get up to it!"

Diana slid out of the bed and rounded up his plastic basin, filling it with warm water from the bathroom. She laid it on the small cabinet next to the bed and soaked a washcloth in the warm water, then wrung it out and untied Duncan's hospital johnny.

"How's this feel?" she purred in his ear, running the cloth over his shoulders then down his good arm.

"Keep going," he whispered back.

She refreshed the washcloth and continued his bath, moving to his throat then down his wide chest and over his chestnut curls.

"Am I getting warmer?" she teased.

"I don't know about you, but I sure am!" Duncan reached out a hand and pressed the button to lower the head of the bed.

Diana slipped the blanket and sheets to the side. "My, my, it looks like your recovery is coming right along," she cooed as Duncan's cock lengthened beneath her touch. Diana's hands danced along his pelvis, and the lingering pain from his injuries was replaced by the pleasure from her adept fingers. Her flaming hair pooled out over his hips as she sidled down his body.

"I'm locked and loaded," he sighed

"Then let's see if you can deliver," the huntress murmured as her lips locked onto her target.