Bloodline. Maggie Shayne

forever. It was returning, albeit in pieces. And so I began searching Ethan’s haven, hoping to find some clue to my past, to how I knew him, that might tease my wounded mind into telling me more about who and what I was. But even as I did, a niggling worry crept into my brain, and I found myself moving to the window, parting the curtain and gazing out toward the stable. What if he didn’t come back? What if he had abandoned me?

      Just like before.

      I frowned at the odd thought that had crept, unbidden, into my mind. And I was more certain than ever that I knew him. We had a history. God, why couldn’t I remember?

      21 Years Ago

      Serena woke to find herself lying on a fainting couch in a large room that had to be part of a mansion. That was her first impression as she blinked, pressed a hand to her head and sat up slowly. She looked around and saw women standing in small groups of two or three in different parts of the room, all speaking softly, nodding sadly, sipping from china cups and nibbling on pastries. Terry was there.

      One of the women noticed her and, meeting her eyes, said, “You’re awake.”

      And then, one by one, the others turned their attention to her. Serena noticed that some sets of eyes were damp and remembered Maureen being blown to bits, all because she’d tried to help.

      “Hello, Serena,” one of the women said. She set down her teacup and made her way over, taking a seat beside Serena. She was beautiful, probably in her thirties, though she had an ageless look that could be very deceiving. All the women did. There was a wisdom in their eyes that suggested the toned bodies and unlined faces were less than the entire story.

      The woman indicated the tea service that sat on a table across the room. China, a pink pattern that looked Asian. Another woman quickly poured a cup of tea.

      “My name is Ginger. I’m the leader here. And I’m very sorry about your baby.”

      Serena nodded, tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Kind hands pressed a warm cup into her own, and she took it and sipped. It was hot and sweet and creamy. That other woman had also brought over a plate of pastries.

      “Didn’t know if you take cream and sugar, but I figured you could use them after what you’ve been through.”

      Serena sipped some more. “Thank you.” And then she looked at Ginger again. “I’m sorry about your…about Maureen.”

      “Maureen wouldn’t have a single regret, other than maybe not finding the bomb before it went off. I can promise you that. She lived for this work.”

      Serena blinked and looked around the room. “This work…Which is…?” Then she licked her lips. “Do you know who took my baby? Or why?” And then, frowning, she added, “Terry said something about a rare antigen in her blood.”

      “Yes,” Ginger said. “I suspect a government agency is behind this. One most people believe ceased to exist several years ago. It was known as the DPI, and it was a highly classified, top-secret subdivision of the CIA.”

      Serena felt her eyes widen, and a million questions swirled in her mind. “What does it stand for? DPI?”

      “The Division of Paranormal Investigations,” Ginger said.

      Ginger was watching her closely, gauging her reactions, Serena thought. She clearly didn’t want to upset her, but she wasn’t coddling her, either. Not telling her she’d been through enough for one day or asking her to wait, but giving her direct answers to her questions.

      “It’s a bit of a misnomer, though,” Ginger went on. “Their interest in most areas of the paranormal is shallow, at best. Their real focus is on the Undead. Vampires.”

      Serena blinked, and her gaze shifted from one woman to another, looking for the giveaway. This had to be a joke. But no one was smiling.

      “Are you trying to tell me that my baby was a—”

      “Oh, God, no,” Ginger said with a wave of her hand. “No, but as her mother, you do need to know about them. No, your baby was human through and through. But she’s related to them, in a way. You see, every vampire in existence was born human, and every one of them was born with the Belladonna antigen. It’s the thing that allows them to become vampires.”

      Serena sat there, taking in this outrageous, impossible information.

      “I know it’s hard to believe, much less understand. But if you stay with us, you’ll see proof soon enough. And I want you to know that even if you don’t choose to join us, we’ll try to find your baby for you. And we’ll trust you to leave with information few outsiders have ever been allowed to possess. As the mother of one of the Chosen, you have a right to know.”

      “The Chosen?”

      “That’s what those with the antigen are called. Vampires, by nature, sense them, and they’re compelled to protect and watch over them. But lately, the Chosen have been vanishing. The vampire community is aware of it, too. But so far, no one knows where the children are being taken or why.”

      “But…you have your suspicions?” Serena asked.

      “Yes, but we have no real information.”

      “What did the DPI do before they were supposedly shut down or whatever?”

      Ginger looked away, met Terry’s eyes and licked her lips nervously. Serena knew that whatever was coming wasn’t good.

      “They were mostly interested in…research. Learning how vampires’ bodies work, how to control them, how to eliminate them.”

      A small cry flew from Serena’s lips before she could bite it back. “You think my baby is a lab rat for some government experiment?”

      “We have absolutely no evidence of that.”

      “Oh God.” Serena lowered her face to her hands, sobbing so hard she thought her chest would tear in two.

      The rest of the women left the room one by one. She heard them leaving, felt the emptiness when they had gone, then lifted her head and wiped her eyes. Terry and Ginger now sat on either side of her.

      “I don’t understand what it is you do here.”

      “We’re the Sisterhood of Athena, and we’ve existed for centuries. What we do—well, we watch. We observe. We try not to interfere unless it’s absolutely necessary. Our stated mission is to protect the supernatural order. Which is really the natural order, simply the parts of it that few people know about.”

      “You…protect the vampires?”

      “They have a right to exist. They’re a part of creation, just as we are, and their elimination would send things out of balance, just as the extinction of any species would. We want to see them allowed to live naturally, evolving in whatever way they’re supposed to, without interference from humans.”

      “But…don’t they…you know, feed on humans?”

      “They’re just like us, Serena,” Ginger said. “There are good ones and bad ones. When there is a bad one, though, the good ones tend to get rid of him. They feed on blood from blood banks or occasionally take criminals. Few ever kill a human being except in self-defense. They’re just people.

      “So we observe,” she went on. “And yes, when necessary, we protect. Even the vampires aren’t supposed to know of our existence—that’s how discreet we are.”

      “What we do here is dangerous,” Terry said. “Working against government agencies, undercover assassins, vampire hunters who want to exterminate them all.”

      “Not to mention,” Ginger added, “the vampires themselves. Sometimes when they catch on to our knowledge of them, catch one of us snooping around their secrets, they see us as a threat. It’s not always possible to explain in time.”

      Serena closed her eyes slowly. “This is a lot. It’s just…a lot.”

      “We