Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Richelle Mead is the author and owner of the Vampire Academy series. The original characters and plot are the property of the fanfiction author. The fanfiction author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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AN: Thank you as always to my readers who left a review for chapter 9. A special thanks to MelissaDB'sLover who has forgotten her FFN password, so she leaves me great guest reviews. I wish I could respond personally. Also thanks to reviewers: guest peggy, Dimitri's Smexi Shewolf, southernrebel96, NatalieHS, Jessica c.b., yunacarman, Comrade'sRoza and Booklover2468 for leaving awesome and regular reviews.

This chapter was supposed to include a dinner party in which Janine and Abe turned up, but as often happens when writing fiction, the chapter took on a life of its own, and a more important event took precedence.

There's a bit of lemon peel in this chapter, but nothing too over the top (I hope) and no actual sex yet since this story has a T rating, however, there will eventually be sex for Romitri – it just won't be explicit. I'm going to try to keep love scenes sexy but tasteful. If you think this love scene overextended the T rating let me know and I'll post a different warning or edit the scene down, but I've read more detailed sex scenes in a Mills and Boon novel. If you want to skip their first love scene, then start reading from the first horizontal scene break line; however, there is some dialogue you might want to read. Otherwise, enjoy some Romitri loving.

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Chapter 10 – A Date, Friends and Vampires

Rosa's POV

When my mouth touched Dimitri's, the world stopped spinning for a moment, and then it span at a crazy speed making me dizzy. His lips were as soft as rose petals as they moved against mine. I'd never kissed someone with such a soft and luscious mouth. He nibbled at my bottom lip, pulling on it gently with his teeth and I heard a moan – I think it might have been me – as his tongue slipped into my mouth.

The glorious sensation of Dimitri's tongue stroking tentatively against my own nearly made me faint from pleasure. My hands clenched against his shirt, my fingers twisting and clawing at the fabric, and my toes curled inside my boots. I'd always thought the expression toe-curling kiss was just a Hollywood catchphrase … until I kissed Dimitri Belikov. He pulled back and I wanted to cry from the disappointment. No! Come back. My eyes were heavy lidded with excitement and his were almost black with desire.

"What are we doing?" he breathed in a wondrous tone. "I'm your guardian."

"I thought that was obvious," I replied huskily, "and I don't care." I tugged at this shirt to pull him back, but he resisted my attempts easily. I wasn't surprised – he weighed twice what I did and he was a foot taller – but insurmountable odds had never defeated me before. I'd survived the unsurvivable … I wasn't about to let Dimitri's professional ethics beat me now.

"Roza, this is not a good idea," he persisted. I pressed my mouth against his and used his shoulders to hoist myself against his body. His arms embraced me loosely, almost involuntarily, and I took advantage of the opportunity to wrap my legs around his waist.

"It doesn't matter," I cajoled, nibbling on his earlobe. I sighed and raked my fingers through his hair. It felt so silky – soft like a spun web. "I've wanted to do this all week." He groaned and sought out my mouth with his own, kissing me more deeply as he pulled me tighter to his body. He turned and walked a few steps, my voice hitching as I felt him rub gently against my center. "Yes," I hissed as he backed me against the fence and his lips brushed butterfly kisses along my neck.

"Oh, Roza," Dimitri groaned and I smiled in triumph as his mouth returned to mine and we lost ourselves to the passion.

The fingers of his one hand stroked along my back while his other slid downward to my butt. His every touch caused ripples of pleasure and I wondered what it might feel like if he touched my naked skin. The thought made me shiver. His hand on my butt lingered and fondled in circular motions and then his long fingers squeezed gently. I reacted by gasping and rubbing myself against him and he groaned my name into my mouth.

"You are so beautiful," I murmured as I looked into his deep brown-black eyes. They were pools of chocolate I could drown in happily. I wanted to touch him and my hands slid over his shoulders to fumble uselessly with the tiny buttons on his shirt.

"You're the one who's beautiful," he returned in a voice low and deep with passion. "So beautiful – it hurts me to look at you – so beautiful," he repeated, and I melted.

Abandoning the buttons, I pressed my mouth to his neck and nudged aside the shirt collar to nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder. Using my lips, my teeth and my tongue, I kissed, nibbled and stroked the exposed skin until I felt him shudder in my arms. Pushing me harder into the fence, he growled low and ground against me.

His reaction thrilled me and I made yet another impulsive decision. I'd never done it before, but I'd read about how to do it in Cosmo and I wanted, needed to mark him as my own. Laying my mouth against the smooth skin just above his collarbone, I parted my lips and applied pressure, sucking his flesh gently into my mouth.

"Roza, what are you doing?" Dimitri groaned, yet he helped me by laying his head to the side, giving me greater access. I released his flesh with a gentle pop and held his face to kiss him.

Smiling into his mouth, I said sassily, "Giving you a hickey." He laughed sexily and his hand cupped my head to keep our mouths connected. He wanted to kiss … well, I was happy to oblige him. Throwing my arms around his neck, I rubbed my aching breasts against his hard chest. The delicious abrasion made them tingle and I moaned, wanting more.

"More. Touch them," I heard myself begging.

"Yes, anything you want," he rasped passionately.

His hands slid down my back to slip beneath my sweater. His callused fingertips trailed across my skin, raising my awareness to new, untold levels of delight. One hand traced my spine to the back of my bra and his other stoked across my stomach. He paused to circle my navel and stroke over the piercing I had there. It tickled and I jerked. He laughed softly and trailed upward to cup a full, aching mound clad in silk and lace. He squeezed gently and his thumb teased making my breath hitch in my throat. I writhed, pushing into his hand insistently, until, eventually, his fingers fumbling for a non-existent fastening penetrated the thrall that held me captive.

"It's a front closing bra," I managed to tell him.

His seeking hand travelled to my chest. "Even better," he whispered into my mouth.

This time, his long nimble fingers unerringly found the clasp and he released it easily. My breasts fell into his waiting hands with relief and I felt them swell as they reacted to his tender ministrations. I panted and writhed as his attentions caused jolts of electricity to ratchet through my body, coalescing in one special spot. I could barely describe the feeling, but it was sheer delight.

"Oh God, Oh God … the way you make me feel, Dimitri," I panted incoherently.

"Hold onto the top of the fence," Dimitri instructed huskily. I nodded and stretched my arms along the railing to clutch at the rough timber. My legs still gripped his waist tightly and he stepped back stretching out my body. "Don't let go of my waist," he whispered, and I felt his hands push my sweater up exposing my body to the cooling air under the waning afternoon sunshine.

I watched him with heavy lidded eyes as he leaned forward, his hands supporting my spine. His silky hair swung forward, caressing my sensitive skin as his mouth explored my body. I cried out as his tongue laved and suckled my bellybutton, sending sharp tingles of pleasure shooting directly to my special spot. I gasped and writhed as his mouth inflamed my body to heights I'd never before experienced.

"Don't move," he ordered. "If you move, I'll stop."

I panted and promised him anything as long as he kept going. He grinned and returned his mouth to my skin, kissing his way to my aching, heaving breasts where he lingered and played for a long, long … long, long … long time. At that particular moment, I would have done anything he wanted. He was handsome and sexy and he wanted only me. It would be so easy to let myself love him …

The cessation of his touch was a rude awakening and I wanted to cry when his lips left me. Why had he stopped? "Don't stop," I begged him. The screeches of an eagle flying overhead pierced my senses and I understood what had reawakened Dimitri's awareness of our surroundings. He'd stopped and gathered me against him, holding me tightly as he crooned nonsense in my ear. I felt like sobbing. Wait, I was sobbing. "Why'd you stop? It … it was so wonderful. Why'd you stop?"

"Shssh, Roza, shssh," he murmured. He sighed and pressed kisses over my face. "Roza, sweetheart, we're in the middle of the paddock. Anyone could see us."

I shook my head as I clutched him. "I don't care!"

"I do," he said softly, but firmly. His expression was cool and unrelenting.

My mouth trembled. "Don't you want me anymore?"

His face softened. "Oh, Roza, I want you so much, I can't describe it to you, but I have to protect you."

"I don't need protecting from this, Dimitri," I said urgently. I smiled seductively and trailed my finger over the love-bite I'd made on his collarbone.

He pushed me gently off him and caged my body against the fence being careful not to touch me. "Yes, you do, Roza. There are things about me you don't know. I won't take this further until you know everything."

I looked at him quizzically. What could be so bad that he thought I would reject him? I knew he'd been a soldier; that he'd likely killed before. I wouldn't hold that against him – not ever.

"Then tell me," I pressed. "Nothing you can tell me about yourself will change my feelings."

A fleeting expression I couldn't define flashed across his face and I thought for a moment that he might confess whatever sin he felt, he needed to protect me from. Mere moments later his neutral mask replaced it and he was once again my cool, controlled bodyguard. His hands dropped from the fence and he stepped away to pick up Samson's reins, his back toward me.

"Fix your clothes, Roza. It's time to return to the house."

I was shocked and hurt at how easily he'd dismissed the feelings we had for each other – and they were mutual, of that, I was certain. I'd dated enough to know when a man wanted me, and no man made love to a woman the way Dimitri had to me if he didn't want her more than he needed air to breathe.

"No! Let's talk about this," I pleaded with him, my hand taking hold of his forearm. He shook me off gently.

"Not now, Roza. Please …" he trailed off, his brown eyes begging. "I will tell you, but not now. Soon. Let's just get to know each other some more. You need this time to get to know me … to be sure of your feelings."

I was sure of my feelings and I didn't appreciate him dismissing me as if I were an inexperienced teenager. I considered arguing with him, but he looked so earnest, I felt compelled to heed him. I huffed and crossed my arms.

"Alright, Comrade, I won't push for an explanation." He breathed easier. Then I did what I often did so well. I said something outrageous.

"So does this mean you're going to date me?" I asked boldly as I slipped my hands beneath my sweater to fasten my bra. It felt tight and uncomfortable over my still swollen and sensitive breasts.

He blinked. "I-what?"

I stepped around him to pick up Orchid's reins and I mounted her before I answered. "You said we should get to know each other further?" He nodded. "Well, what better way to get to know each other than by dating. There's a street festival in town on Saturday night with places to eat and dancing," I hinted. I waited expectantly, but he only stared at me. I rolled my eyes. It looked like I'd have to do the asking.

"Dimitri, would you like to go to the festival on Saturday night … with me … as my date?"

His lips parted – whether shocked at my boldness or appreciative of my courage, I couldn't define from his expression – but he was definitely intrigued by the idea of dating me. He watched me thoughtfully and then he seemed to come to a decision.

"My friends are arriving tomorrow. You said you wanted to meet them."

I shrugged. "I can meet them on Sunday … or they can go to the festival too and I can meet them there … with you … as your date." I reiterated the whole 'date' concept so he'd get the message clearly. He remained silent while he mounted Samson and turned him around. "Well?" I asked impatiently as he urged Samson to walk toward the gate in the paddock. I followed and came alongside him. He looked at me, his expression once again neutral. I bet he'd make a great poker player.

"Yes," he said at last.

Yes? I made a face of confusion. What was he saying yes to: an intimate date for two, or a group outing with his friends? "Um, yes to what, exactly?"

"Yes, I'd like to go with you to the festival … as your date. I can introduce you to my friends if they want to go, but they aren't invited to join us." I grinned and he grinned back. "Pick me up a seven," he said, and I giggled.

Dimitri's POV

The next day, Roza and I spoke with Gina about guarding Molly while we were at the festival. I'd convinced Roza that she needed to tell her housekeeper about the stalker and we spoke with her after breakfast while Molly watched Saturday morning cartoons in the den.

"Gina, Roza and I are going to the festival this evening in Whitefish," I began. She looked up from where she was loading the dishwasher and smiled at both of us.

"Yes, and there's something you need to know about Dimitri … um, why Dimitri is really here before we go," Roza added. Gina's eyebrow quirked and she joined us at the table where we were both sitting.

"He's not here to help you with your book, is he?" she said, glancing at me. My eyes said follow my cues and I hoped she understood the message.

Roza swallowed and shook her head. "Um, he's really here because, um, you see … I'm being stalked by a crazy letter writer …" Roza explained what had been happening and Gina did an excellent job of faking ignorance, feigning shock and then anger that Roza hadn't confided in her.

"What can I do to help?" Gina asked, looking at me for guidance.

"Just stay alert and report any unusual activity. Most especially, don't leave Molly unattended while she's outside the house."

"I don't suppose you can shoot, can you?" Roza asked Gina, and we both stared at her. "What?" Roza asked. "Why is my question so surprising? I figured Gina might have been a cop or something before she worked for me."

Gina's eyes widened. "What makes you think that?"

Roza shrugged. "When you guys first met, I got the definite feeling you didn't like each other, but then you seemed to come to some type of understanding." Gina and I exchanged glances. "Well, I'm right, aren't I? You guys know each other?" Roza persisted.

I answered. "Not personally, no, but we know of each other. You're right, but not about her being a police officer. Gina used to be a soldier – a very good one – but she retired." I hated lying, but it was necessary. The irony – considering I'd punched Zmey for the same reason – wasn't lost on me. Regardless, keeping all of the lies close to the truth would make them easier to remember, and to justify (I hoped) when … if, we told Roza everything. I only prayed she would understand when the time came.

Gina continued the explanation. "Yes, I retired about four years ago. I was getting too old to go out into the field and I was injured a few times. After the last time, I was posted to a desk job. I hated it, so when I'd done my thirty years, I retired and I ended up in Whitefish.

Roza looked impressed with Gina. "Thirty years as a soldier, huh. What made you want to become my housekeeper?" she asked curiously.

Gina smiled. "I spent more than half my life keeping my quarters and my uniforms perfect. It wasn't difficult to parlay that into civilian housekeeping … and I knew how to cook, so that requirement was also taken care of."

"You certainly do, Gina. Your spaghetti sauce is the best I've ever eaten," Roza complimented. Gina glowed with pleasure. "Do you have any kids, Gina?" Her face fell and she stood up from the table, turning her back on us both. Roza seemed to realize that she'd hit a nerve. "I'm sorry, you don't need to answer that," she said hurriedly. "It's none of my business."

Gina turned around, her eyes sad. "It's okay, Rosa. I had a son. He died."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Roza said. She left the table to comfort Gina, hugging the older woman. "That must have been hard for you. Was he in the Army too?"

She nodded. "Yes. He was killed in action," she said quietly, looking at me so that I would understand what she wasn't saying. Her son had been a guardian and he'd died on the job or else he'd been turned strigoi.

Either way, she'd lost him.

We spent the morning in the training corral while Roza gave me another riding lesson and Molly rode her pony, Bobbin. Gina stood guard, subbing for me, while Roza went over what I'd learned the previous afternoon, and I practiced for a while before we moved onto trotting. It wasn't the most comfortable movement I'd ever experienced, but Roza said it was necessary, since the trot was the working gait for a horse.

"Despite what you might think, horses are a lot like humans," she said seriously. "They can't run flat out for endless miles without resting. Every few miles of galloping you need to slow to a walk or a trot so your mount has time to recover," she coached. "Ideally, you should let it drink as soon as possible."

Following an excruciating hour for both me and Samson as I bounced on him in the saddle, I begged for a halt to the lesson. "Roza, if you expect me to take you dancing tonight, I need to be able to move my body." My ass, thighs and back were killing me.

She smirked at me. "Calling it quits on me, are you, Comrade?" I hated to admit it, but I was. The horse had beaten me … at least for today. I reluctantly nodded. "I'm going to remind you of this the next time you're training me and I want to call a halt," she promised.

"Agreed," I promised eagerly. "No questions asked."

She shook her head and smiled. "Go ahead."

"Whoa, Samson." He immediately halted and I slid off his back with relief, my muscles screaming. "I'm sorry about all that, old boy." Samson snickered and butted my chest accepting my apology. "C'mon, let's get you unsaddled and I'll give you an apple while I rub you down." I led Samson slowly toward the stable, horrified to find myself walking bandy. I heard laughter behind me, but I refused to acknowledge it, holding my head high, if not my body.

Mid afternoon, while I soaked away my aches in a hot bath, my cell phone rang. Gina had laughed when I'd stumbled into the house around lunchtime. 'It's a different type of exercise,' she'd said knowingly. She could also ride, but had declined to do so while she subbed for me on guarding. 'Riding really tests preconceived ideas about your own fitness level,' she'd added. It certainly did, I decided as I slowly climbed the stairs – every step an experience in renewed agony.

Lazily picking up the ringing phone from the occasional table beside the freestanding, six-foot soaker tub, I answered without checking the caller Id.

"Hello," I mumbled.

"Dimitri? Is that you?" I glanced down at my submerged body, but I just couldn't find the energy to be concerned that I was naked in the tub while conversing with the Queen.

"Yes, Your Majesty, it's me."

Silence. "Are … are you okay? You sound … odd."

"Yes, I'm fine, Lissa."

"Hmm," she intoned doubtfully before moving on to the real purpose of her call. "We're here … in Whitefish. The cabin at The Lodge is perfect and it's so beautiful in this part of Montana. The scenery as we flew over was magnificent. I can't wait to see Rose," she chatted excitedly.

"About that …"

"What?" Lissa gasped. "There is something wrong, isn't there? I knew you didn't sound quite yourself when you answered. What's happened –"

"Lissa!" She quieted. "Everything is fine. I told Roza that some colleagues of mine were stopping in Whitefish for a week on vacation. She's looking forward to meeting you all."

I heard her sigh with relief. "Oh, good. Can we visit this evening?"

"Tomorrow," I said. "You're all invited for dinner, but tonight, Roza and I are going to the street festival in town. If you'd like to meet us there, I'll introduce you."

I heard Lissa sniffle. "I still can't get my head around having to be introduced to my best friend. Are you sure she won't remember me?" I sighed under my breath. I knew this would happen. Lissa hoped that Rose would lay eyes on her and all her memories would come flooding back. It wasn't going to happen.

"Yes, Lissa, I'm sure. She doesn't remember you." Silence. I decided to change the subject. "Which guardians did you bring with you?"

"Grant and Serena," the Queen responded sullenly. Serena was Lissa's guardian and Grant was assigned to Christian. Like Roza and I had been, they were together, except they were out in the open. I imagine our own guarding arrangement would have been similar had Roza not been kidnapped.

"Good, they're a couple, so they'll blend in easily," I said. "Remind them to dress as civilians and to conceal their weapons. I've seen no evidence of strigoi activity around Whitefish, but that doesn't mean there won't be any …"

"I'll tell them," Lissa agreed quietly. I hated that she was hurting, but it was necessary. I'd been saying or thinking that a lot lately. Necessary. I was beginning to resent that word.

"Roza and I are leaving for the festival at seven," I told Lissa, "so if you want to go, we can meet you for drinks at nine. We're going to the dance after that."

Lissa perked up immediately. "There's a dance? Oh, I love dancing." Her voice became muffled as she covered the phone to speak with Lord Ozera. "Christian, will you take me dancing tonight? There's a street festival in town. Dimitri and Rose will meet us there." I heard his voice in the background agree readily.

"Dimitri, we'll meet you at the dance at nine. Oh, I can't wait." I smiled at how quickly the Queen's mood could change from sad and sullen to happy and cheerful.

"Hmm, Lissa, this is kind of a date for Roza and me," I told her.

"Ooh," she gasped. "You asked her out?"

I coughed and admitted, "She asked me."

She giggled. "Upstaged by a determined woman, were you, Dimitri? Rose always did have a thing for you, even when she tried to hide it. She may not remember you, but she remembers how she felt around you."

"She does," I agreed.

"I'll see you tonight. Bye."

We hung up and I dropped the phone onto the table. Using my big toe, I pushed the lever on the hot tap and added more water to the tub. "Ah," I groaned as healing heat seeped into my tired muscles.

It was blissful.

Rosa's POV

Following lunch, I put Maili down for a nap while Dimitri rested (I suspected he was soaking in the tub) and I decided to relax for a while. I intended on having a good time tonight and that included dancing for hours … held in Dimitri's arms. The anticipation while I waited for tonight was killing me. I showered and washed my hair, then dried it quickly, and applied a layer of very expensive moisturizer all over my face, neck and body.

Pulling the drapes closed on the sun, I set my phone alarm and climbed into bed under the covers. Reaching across to the bedside table, I picked up the book I was reading. Most people would be surprised by what I liked to read, especially Dimitri. My tastes were eclectic and my favorite authors were very different, ranging from Patricia Cornwell to J K Rowling, Dan Brown and Jane Austin; though I supposed the first three could all be counted as 'mystery' storytellers. My current choice was non-fiction – a memoir written by Hillary Rodham Clinton. I opened the heavy tome to my bookmark, slipped on my glasses and began to read until I felt tired …

I was dreaming.

I was surrounded by a group of people who laughed, teased, and gently nudged me when I said something funny. I couldn't hear what they were saying and I couldn't really see their faces, but I knew they were my friends.

A blond girl cuddled securely in the arms of a young man with short dark hair. He swayed her slowly within the security of his arms as she chatted away to me and another man – older than the rest of us, but pale like them and tall with artlessly arranged short brown hair. He urged me toward him with an outstretched hand.

I shook my head, my attention caught by another man in the room. Sunlight shone through a stained-glass window, shrouding him with mottled colors of red and yellow. He stood out and it wasn't only the angelic light that made him different. He towered over every other person in the room … a library I think it was, and he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world for him. I felt drawn to him, almost tethered to him by some invisible thread. Stretching out a long arm clad in dark brown leather, he beckoned and spoke, but I couldn't hear him.

The other man was still urging me toward him. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was handsome and he cared about me – loved me, even – but I didn't want him. I didn't feel the same way about him that he felt about me. He wasn't the one and I ignored his inviting hand, shaking my head firmly. I pointed to the other man who held my heart.

'It's him. It'll always be him,' I told the faceless man softly. He smiled sadly and nodded, dropping his arm.

I ran to the other man who welcomed me into his outstretched arms. He picked me up and spun me around, our hair flying and catching cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. I loved his long hair. It shone dark brown and I reached out and captured some, discarding the sticky silk web he'd caught in it. I brought his hair to my face so that I could inhale his scent, drowning my senses as his arms surrounded me. His hair felt like the softest silk and he smelled divine – a woodsy scent mixed with a touch of spice and citrus. He leaned down and his soft lips – soft like rose petals – brushed against mine.

'I love you,' he said. 'You are so very beautiful. It hurts me to look at you.'

'I love you, too,' I replied. 'Always and forever.'

The dream began to fade ...

"Dimitri," I murmured.

When I woke up, a sense of déjà vu disturbed me as I recalled my dream. I'd had the dream before, I was sure of it, but last time I didn't know that the tall man in my dream was Dimitri, and it was Dimitri, of that I was also certain.

Lying against the pillows of my king-sized bed with its upholstered headboard, I tried to remember the last time I'd had the exact same dream, yet the precise date eluded me. It could have been yesterday, a week ago, last month or last year. For all I knew, I could have dreamed it years ago. I sat up. Years ago. I remembered having some strange dreams while I was fighting off the coma, but I could never recall the details.

Had I dreamed it then?

Was my dream prophetic … or did I know Dimitri from before? Moreover, if I did know him, why wouldn't Dimitri tell me? If he knew who I was, wouldn't he say something? When we'd met a week ago, he hadn't approached me like an old friend would. Instead, he'd greeted me as if we were two people meeting for the first time. Everything about that meeting suggested we were strangers … except for the way he'd said my name.

Roza.

He'd breathed my name as if he'd spoken it many times, but that didn't make any sense either. He was from New York and he'd been in the Army, possibly overseas when I'd been a girl of seventeen, found nearly dead in the trunk of a burning car in Montana. How could we have met before? Where could we have met before?

My head began to hurt and I reached up to rub at my temples. I hadn't yet told Dimitri about my amnesia … or the seizures – I hadn't had one in more than two years, in any case – but the headaches still struck me on a fairly regular basis. They weren't as debilitating as they once were, but they still pained me like it did now as I felt the throb building.

Climbing out of bed, I went into the bathroom and opened the mirrored medicine case to find my pain medication. Shaking out two tablets, I swallowed them with some water before shuffling back to bed to sleep some more. I really wanted to take a bath, but that would be a bad idea, a very bad idea. I'd done it only once before after taking my meds and I'd fallen asleep in the hot water. Bridget had found me before I'd slipped beneath the surface and woken me, but it had really scared me how strong they were and how drowsy they made me feel. Slipping between the sheets, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep until my alarm rang at 5 o'clock.

When I woke again, my headache was gone, yet a persistent malaise dragged at me and that sense of déjà vu hadn't left me either. I figured it was now safe to have a bath and I hoped it would perk me up a little. Getting out of bed, I stretched for a few minutes before walking into my decadent bathroom of Ming green marble tile with its giant shower stall, white double sink vanity and enormous freestanding soaker tub. It was one of several rooms I'd had remodeled before Maili and I had moved in months ago.

I added some lavender bath beads to the thundering water, inhaling the calming aroma as steam filled the room. I pulled my hair into a messy bun atop my head, and stepped into the tub, sighing as I sank beneath the healing water.

It was blissful.

Dimitri's POV – First Date

As I waited for Roza a little before seven, I found myself pacing the polished timber floor at the foot of the staircase. Molly sat on the couch with her coloring book and crayons and she watched me from time to time with a puzzled expression. She tossed her art supplies aside and climbed off the couch, skipping over to me.

"Are you nervous about your date with Mommy, Dimtree?" Christ almighty, she was perceptive. "Don't be. You look real nice." She giggled behind her hand and scrutinized my clothing.

Uncharacteristically, I'd vacillated over what to wear on our date tonight. Eventually, I'd settled on a pair of jeans and a blue chambray shirt. I'd added a thick leather belt, and instead of my duster, I wore another jacket I thought would be appropriate. It was also western style, but it was suit length, made of distressed brown leather without lapels and it had a stiff upright collar and four buttons down the front. It's three pockets left ample space for my wallet, credentials and car keys. A stake and my gun were sheathed on my back under the jacket.

"You look like a cowboy," Molly decided, smirking at me. "Dimtree, will you take me on a date one day?" My face softened and I crouched down in front of her.

"I would be honored to take you on a date one day, krasivaya devushka."

"Where will you take me?" she gasped excitedly.

"Hmm, I'm not sure." I didn't want to promise to take her somewhere that might not be possible – like an amusement park or the beach. "What types of things do you like to do around Whitefish?"

Her face scrunched thoughtfully. "Well, there's the Christmas fair. Hall'ween is soon and I really like to ride my pony." I grinned at her obvious hint. She reminded me of Roza yesterday when she'd lobbied me about the street festival. I'd been intrigued by the idea of dating her, but also curious to see how far she'd go to get me to take her. I'd made her work for it and she'd gone all the way.

"What do you do on Halloween?" I asked her. The celebration dedicated to the dead was only a week away. "Perhaps we can do something then."

"Mommy and me go trick or treating and there's a prize for the best costume." She began bopping around excitedly. "Will you take me to Hall'ween, Dimtree? Mommy is making my outfit. If you ask her, she'll make you one too."

"Have you thrown me over for another woman already, Comrade?" Roza's amused voice asked as she came down the stairs.

I stood and watched her descend. Like me, she was dressed in jeans (hers were tight and hugged her curves) teamed with a red and blue checked shirt. She'd buckled a western belt low on her waist and cowgirl boots covered her feet. She held a white cashmere jacket with a faux fur collar over her arm. My eyes were riveted. Her lustrous hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders, each lock curled into loose ringlets; and her makeup was understated, yet expertly applied to highlight her best feature – her eyes. She'd had her ears pierced since I'd last known her and silver earrings dangled from her lobes.

She was stunning.

"Mommy!" Molly squealed as she ran to her mother. "You look pretty, Mommy." She jumped around like a Mexican jumping bean. "Mommy, Mommy, Dimtree's taking me on a date, too," she sang excitedly.

Roza smiled. "So I hear."

"You have to make his costume, Mommy," Molly stated imperiously. "Prince Charming coz I'm Cind'rella."

Roza crouched down to hug our daughter. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?" Molly nodded. "Be a good girl for Gina and go to bed when she tells you," Roza cautioned with a serious face. Gina had come into the room while we'd been talking.

"Okay, Mommy. Have a good time. Will you bring me a showbag?"

"Yes, if they have them."

"What's a showbag?" I asked Roza as I escorted her to my black Escalade.

"It's a bag of goodies we can buy at a concession stand. There are different types like candy or Barbie … or cowboys," she added, smirking at me.

When we arrived in Whitefish, Roza directed me to an open parking lot and we circled until we found a vacant space near the back. It was situated in a dark corner with no streetlight and its remote position made me nervous, but there were no other places to park. As we walked toward the town center, I kept a protective arm around Roza's waist and pulled her closely against my body.

The festival was in full swing as we approached it. Lights were strung along and across the street and country music played loudly from speakers mounted to lampposts. People gorged on cotton candy, corn-on-the-cob, hotdogs and burgers as they walked along the main street, stopping occasionally to buy goods or one of Molly's coveted showbags from one of the many stalls and concessions. Several fairground rides and attractions sparkled with blinking colored lights in the parking lot of the public library. Screams of terror and squeals of excitement warred with organ music for which was loudest.

"What would like to do first?" I asked loudly over the cacophony of noise. Roza was grinning like a little kid as she looked around, her eyes skipping from attraction to attraction without really settling on one particular interest.

"I want cotton candy," she said girlishly, pointing at a woman eating pink webs of spun sugar wrapped around a stick.

"Your wish is my command," I told her as I led her toward the snack food vendor. While Roza devoured her sugary treat, I nibbled on spiced, roasted nuts as we strolled along the midway.

"Do you want to try some?" she offered, holding the cotton candy aloft.

Just the thought of eating the sickly sweet snack made me feel physically ill and I was about to refuse, but when I looked into her eager face, I decided to do anything to make our first date a rousing success. I realized with a small pang that it was, in fact, our first date. We shared a daughter, but we'd never actually dated.

"Sure, I'll try it," I said. Roza tore off a chunk and held it up to my mouth.

"Open up," she said flirtatiously, her eyes bright.

I parted my lips to accept the treat. She pushed it over my lips and past my teeth with her fingers and I captured one as the candy dissolved on my tongue, sucking on her digit strongly as she retreated. She gasped and her eyes widened, and I saw desire ignite in her brown irises.

"You're sweeter than any candy," I whispered as I leaned down to brush her mouth with my own.

My tongue tip emerged to lick the remnants from her lips. She gasped and parted her lips, allowing me greater admittance and I felt her arms go around my neck as I deepened the kiss. When I pulled back reluctantly, mindful that we were on a public street, the remains of Roza's cotton candy was stuck in my hair. I touched the back of my head, my hand coming away pink and sticky. I made a face and Roza laughed as she discarded the remnants in a nearby trashcan. When she turned back, she looked at me quizzically as I plucked strings of spun sugar from my hair.

"What's wrong?" I asked worriedly, dropping my hands.

She shook her head and then shrugged. "Oh, nothing. Just déjà vu. C'mon, there are restrooms up ahead where we can wash our hands."

After trailing in and out of concession stands and marquees for an hour, we headed to a food tent for some dinner. While I waited in line, Roza searched for a table in the loud and crowded venue, and when I approached ten minutes later, Roza was speaking with an older couple. They all turned to look at me as I slid the heavily loaded tray onto the table.

"Dimitri," Rosa said, linking her arm with mine, "this is Maybelline and her husband Kenny Rogers." She glanced up at me through her eyelashes as she introduced the couple, emphasizing the man's name. It wasn't lost on me that he shared the same name as the country singer. It also didn't escape my notice that he resembled the aging entertainer, with his white hair and well-groomed beard.

My lips quirked in a tiny smile. "How do you do?" I said shaking their outstretched hands in turn. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," I added politely.

Maybelline Rogers batted her lashes at me as she looked me up and down like I was a prime cut of beef. "My my, sugar, well aren't you just a tasty dish of Russian caviar," she drawled with a Southern Belle twang. Roza giggled as I felt myself blushing as red as the chilli I'd ordered for dinner.

"Now, Maybelline, leave the boy alone," Kenny chided. "Ignore her, son. Maybelline just likes to tease."

"Comrade, Kenny owns The Lodge on Whitefish Lake," Roza said, still smirking at my embarrassment.

I turned to the man. "I've heard it's the best hotel in Whitefish," I complimented. He beamed. "Some friends of mine are staying in one of your cabins for a week. They arrived earlier today."

"They'd be Ambrose and Roman, party of five, yes?" I nodded, then: five? Who was the fifth person? "Good, good. Well I hope they enjoy their stay. You tell them to let me know if they need anything. C'mon Maybelline, let's leave these folks to eat their dinner." Kenny tipped his Stetson at Roza and dragged away a still flirting Maybelline.

"I'm sorry about Maybelline," Roza said as I sat beside her on a hay bale. "But she was right. You are a tasty dish of Russian caviar." I grimaced and she leaned sideways to peck my mouth.

"Have you ever eaten Russian caviar?" I asked as I handed her a napkin and plastic cutlery.

Her nose scrunched adorably. "Ew, God, no!" I laughed and placed her plate, piled high with a burger, fries and sour pickles on the table in front of her.

"I got you a light beer to drink. I hope that's okay?" She nodded and mumbled around a mouthful of fries. I didn't know where she put all of the food she ate. Perhaps she had four stomachs like the cattle she ran on her ranch. She swallowed and wiped her hands and mouth.

"Thanks for bringing me here tonight, Comrade. If I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time." She blushed and I smiled at her, nudging her shoulder with mine. She was so adorable and I fell a little more in love with her every moment we spent together.

"So did I," I told her.

"So, tell me more about living in New York," she said.

"Have you been there?" I asked her instead.

She nodded. "A few times. My publisher is there, but, of course, you know that," (I nodded) "but I love it. It's such an exciting city and so safe now compared to decades ago, or so I'm told."

"Yes, it is much safer. Ever since 9/11, security is much tighter and people are far more observant than they used to be. I used to go running in Central Park or sometimes along the Highline with Ivan."

"Ooh, yes, I loved the Highline. I was there one summer and people were sunbathing. I thought it was really great that the city turned a disused train track into a garden and recreation area rather than tearing it down."

"I thought so, too," I told her. I ate a few mouthfuls of delicious chilli and Doritos while Roza chowed down on her burger.

"Who's Ivan?" she asked me curiously a while later. She sipped her beer and waited patiently for my answer. Had I mentioned Ivan? I must have. I hadn't realized.

"Um, he was my best friend … he was killed a few years ago." She covered my hand and squeezed.

"I'm sorry. You sound like you really miss him."

I smiled a little sadly. "I do. We went to high school together and we … worked together as well. I wasn't with him when he died, but I can't help feeling that if I was, he'd still be alive today."

Roza looked around before she leaned closer and whispered, "He wasn't in Special Ops, like you?"

I shook my head. "Not really. He had some of the same training I had, but he was a desk jockey, not a field expert. He didn't stand a chance when the enemy struck." She squeezed my hand again and changed the subject.

After dinner, we wandered by some of the concession stands on our way to the dance pavilion and we stopped to buy Molly her showbag. The vendor had a Cinderella bag, which contained a blond wig and a blue ribbon headband, as well as glitter, long white satin gloves and a black velvet neck ribbon, off which hung, a tiny cameo of the fairytale princess.

Roza picked it up and grinned. "This is perfect. She's gonna love it." She reached into her jeans pocket for some money.

"Please let me get this, Roza. I'd really like to get Molly a gift." She hesitated to agree. "Please ..."

"Alright," she conceded. "You're going to be her hero even more than you are already, Comrade. You might need to take her on two dates."

I grinned as I handed $25 to the salesperson and he passed over the showbag. "I don't mind. She's a wonderful little girl and I already love her."

Roza blushed prettily. "Thanks. I think she's wonderful, too ... and she's easy to love, so I don't blame you."

"That she is. C'mon, it's nearly nine. The dance will be starting soon," I said.

As we walked along our fingers brushed, and by tacit agreement, we joined hands. I held hers firmly as we approached the venue, which was already crowded with carefree revelers ready to dance the night away. A bar was set up to one side selling beer, white wine and soda, as well as snack foods. A live country-rock band - the Rocky Mountain Moonshine Band, according to their banner - was tuning up on the stage. Bar tables and stools were dotted around the huge open-sided pavilion surrounding a large floating dance floor. Gas heaters dotted the area, and hay bales lined the boundaries where people could sit if there were no vacant tables.

As we stopped at the entrance to buy tickets, I saw Christian at the bar with Grant buying a round of drinks. I searched the seating area and found Lissa sitting beside Serena at a group of tables they'd commandeered for our party.

"My friends are here," I whispered to Roza. "Are you sure you don't mind joining them?"

She patted my chest reassuringly. "I told you it's fine, Comrade. I'm happy to meet your friends, and as long as you dance with me as much as I want, I'll be as contented as a kid in a candy store."

At that moment, Lissa spotted us and she waved us over frantically. A grin split her face from ear to ear when she glimpsed Roza on my arm, but as we moved closer, her face fell as the shock of actually seeing Roza in the flesh for the first time in four years, actually hit her.

Roza noticed and stumbled as we walked. "What's wrong with her?" she whispered from the side of her mouth. I shrugged, having no real idea what to say to her.

"Mhm, perhaps you remind her of someone," I proposed.

Lissa slid off her bar stool and came around the table to greet us. Like most people in the room, she was dressed in figure hugging jeans, but instead of a shirt, she wore a fluffy pink sweater. She halted a few feet away and blatantly stared at Roza, looking for some type of recognition. Roza grew uncomfortable at the Queen's behavior and she fidgeted nervously beside me.

"Dimitri, good to see you again," said Christian as he clapped me on the shoulder when he returned from the bar.

He deposited the pitcher of light beer onto the table while Grant slid a tray of glasses beside it. Christian took hold of Lissa's hand and squeezed lightly to distract her. When that didn't wake her up he dug his nails into her skin, forcing her to break eye contact with Roza. Lissa gave her boyfriend a dirty look as she rubbed her hand, but I mouthed a grateful thank you. He nodded and his own wide-eyed gaze shifted to Roza.

"Roza, I'd like you to meet my friends and colleagues. These are Christian, Lissa, Grant and Serena," I introduced, pointing them out in turn. "Guys, this is Rosa Campbell."

"Um, hi," she said a little shyly, disconcerted by Lissa's earlier behavior. Her discomfort escalated when Lissa grinned crazily and continued to stare raptly at Roza. When the silence became uncomfortable, I was relieved when Serena stepped forward with an outstretched hand to break the impasse.

"Hi, Rosa, I'm Serena. It's nice to meet you."

Roza smiled and shook the other woman's hand. "Um, you too. Have you been having a good time at the festival?"

Serena grinned. "Yeah, it's been great fun. I see you've been buying a showbag. Me too," she said, pointing to three bags under the tables. "I think they're a great idea."

Christian noted the bag Roza held and smirked. "Do you have princess dreams? You're a bit old for that, aren't you?" he joked.

"Huh?" She looked down at her bag and giggled. "Oh, no, not me, but my daughter does. Prince Charming here is her date for Halloween." Roza gestured to me with her thumb. "She asked him earlier tonight."

"Going to wear a red jacket and a sword are you, Dimka?" asked Serena with sparkling eyes full of humor. "No cowboy costume for you, then, huh? And you've already got the perfect coat to wear, too."

"Oh, God, yes. He loves that duster of his," Roza teased. "He wears it everywhere. I think he actually sleeps with it." I flushed and the others all laughed at my expense.

"Alright, alright." I helped Roza off with her jacket and pulled out a stool for her. "Pour the beer, will you, Grant."

As Serena returned to her seat opposite, I noticed that her upswept hair fully exposed her molnija marks. My eyes widened and I caught Grant's eye, gesturing to Serena's nape. He nodded and whispered in her ear as he sat beside her. She paled, reaching up and casually loosened her hair. I breathed a sigh of relief. First crisis averted.

Roza flicked her gaze away from Lissa, who was still tongue-tied and staring, and she jumped on the beer Grant passed her. She took a large swallow – I assumed for Dutch courage – before she faced Lissa head-on, opening with a standard getting-to-know-you question …

"So, Lissa, you work with Dimitri. Um, what do you do? Are you a bodyguard as well?"

Lissa eyes widened and her face paled until she was whiter than she normally was. "Erm …"

Christian laughed and saved the day. Second crisis averted. "Not Lissa. She's a Park Avenue Princess, but she's going to be my Queen, aren't you, babe?" Christian held up Lissa's left hand and flashed the enormous diamond ring on her engagement finger.

"You're engaged?! When did that happen?" I asked, genuinely happy for the younger couple.

Lissa blushed and said, "A few days ago. I had no idea he was going to propose … he totally surprised me."

"They're the best kind," Roza said, giving Christian and Lissa a friendly smile. "How'd he do it, Lissa?"

"Oh, um, he um, took me on a hot air balloon ride at sunset." She smiled lovingly at Christian. "We had dinner for two in the balloon with just our pilot and a server along for the ride. While I was admiring the sunset, dessert was served and this," (she pointed at her ring) "was sitting on top of my gateau."

Christian smiled and picked up the tale. "She screamed and bounced around so much, she rocked the basket. When she dived across the table to kiss me, I think she knocked ten years off the life of the pilot. He was paler than Lissa by the time we landed."

"Shut up," she said affectionately, blushing prettily.

"Very romantic, Christian," Roza said. "Best wishes and congratulations," she said charmingly. "I think this momentous occasion deserves a toast," Roza announced.

"Hear, hear," agreed Grant, Serena, and I.

Everyone raised their beer glasses and Roza spoke eloquently. "To Christian and Lissa, we all wish both of you a world of happiness and joy. May your love shine brighter and your companionship grow richer with each passing day. Congratulations on your engagement, we are so delighted for you!"

"To Christian and Lissa," we all caroled before clinking glasses and taking a swallow of beer. Lissa managed to beam with pleasure and look teary-eyed at the same time, while Christian thanked Roza for her kind words. At that moment, the band welcomed everyone to the festival and launched into their opening number – a cover of Luke Bryan's: 'Country Girl (Shake It For Me)'.

I held my hand out to Roza. "Shall we?"

"We shall," she said, hopping off her stool. "I must warn you, Comrade, I'm a pretty good dancer," she told me with a huge smile as I escorted her onto the dance floor, which was quickly filling up with other couples. I leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"So am I." With that declaration, I swung her into my arms and led her around the dance floor in a country swing two-step, adding turns, spins, twirls and dips in time to the music. When the dance ended, Roza threw her head back and laughed joyously as her chest heaved with breathlessness.

"You've been holding out on me, Comrade."

"You can't know all my secrets," I said, as I swung her around and into my arms for the next dance.

I saw Christian and Lissa join the dance floor. The couple didn't know the two-step (rather they knew a formal waltz), but they managed to improvise creditably and by the end of their second dance together, they'd begun to loosen up. We returned to the table for a quick break and while Roza and Christian went to the bar for another pitcher of beer, Lissa told Grant and Serena that they should join the dancing on the next round.

"I expect you to have a good time," she hissed at her guardians. "No sitting around looking stern and stoic. You can keep an eye on us on the dance floor just as easily as you can from the table. Easier probably," she added.

I saw Grant and Serena hesitate as they cast their eyes worriedly around the pavilion, but ultimately, they chose not to ignore a direct order from the Queen when the danger to their charges was minimal. In the end, they danced some of the time and sat out the rest of the time, and that seemed to satisfy Lissa. When Roza and Christian returned, Roza excused herself to go to the restroom and I nodded discreetly at Serena to go with her. Lissa took the opportunity to refresh herself and went with them.

Immediately, Christian gave me the third degree, speaking quietly. With our enhanced moroi and dhampir hearing, there was no need to shout over the music.

"Christ almighty, Dimitri, she's Rose and yet she's not. She truly has no idea who any of us are, does she?"

I sipped moderately at my light beer, since technically, I was still on duty. "None whatsoever," I answered candidly.

"How are you coping?" asked Grant as he sipped his own drink. He knew of my former (illegal) relationship with Roza, and he'd helped me with some inquiries while I'd actively searched for her.

"It was difficult at first, but as I got to know her again, I realized that she's still Rose Hathaway at the core, she just doesn't remember her," I told them. "I thought Lissa was going to ruin everything when she stared at her like that," I said to Christian.

He raked his hand through his hair and exhaled roughly. "Yes, so did I. For the past week, all she could talk about was Rose remembering her as soon as they met again. No matter what I said or what Doctor Olendzki told her about brain injuries and amnesia, she refused to believe that Rose wouldn't remember her best friend."

I paused with a handful of nuts halfway to my mouth. "She didn't tell Doctor Olendzki about Rose, did she?"

"No, no," said Christian quickly, "nothing like that. She kept her inquiries discreet and told her not to mention her questions to anyone else."

"What did Doctor Olendzki say?" I asked curiously.

Christian sighed. "That the longer an amnesiac went without recovering his or her memories, then the chances of them returning at all were slim." Christian hesitated and then said, "Um, Lissa asked the good doctor whether a person with long-term amnesia could be 'cured'," he told me, using air quotes for emphasis.

I choked on a nut and I had to chase it down with a mouthful of beer. I gestured to a circulating server and asked for a pitcher of ice water and six glasses. "What was the doctor's opinion?" I asked Christian when she was out of earshot.

"She said that in normal circumstances, no, but then again, a spirit user has never attempted a healing on an amnesia patient before, so she wasn't sure what might happen. She did say that she thought the chances of recovery for a long-term amnesiac weren't good, since the brain injury had healed on its own. If a spirit user completed a healing immediately after the injury occurred, then there could be a different outcome."

I was alarmed by what Christian was telling me. Knowing Lissa – her kind heart and intense desire to regain her best friend – I was afraid she might try to 'heal' Rose without her consent. Furthermore, without a doctor in attendance, a healing on someone who was no longer technically 'injured' might have adverse affects or unintended consequences.

"You can't allow her to do that, Christian," I said urgently.

His expression was frustrated. "I've told her that, but you know how Lissa is, especially when it concerns Rose. She won't listen to me," he disclosed reluctantly.

"Well, maybe she'll listen to me … or Abe." We dropped the discussion as our dates returned. Roza and I hit the dance floor for the next four songs, before returning to the table for another break.

"Maybe you should take off your jacket," Roza suggested, as I wiped sweat from my forehead with a spare paper napkin.

"Can't," I told her quietly, "I'm armed. I wouldn't want to alarm the good people of Whitefish."

She scoffed. "None of them would bat an eyelash, Comrade. We're in the country. People carry weapons here all the time."

"Perhaps they do, but not openly at a dance or in the street." I leaned down to kiss her mouth. "Now, drop it, Roza. I'm not removing my jacket."

As our group chatted amicably, I saw Petra Stewart approach with the young man who'd been gazing at Roza affectionately the previous Sunday. Immediately, my hackles grew as he smiled and waved at Roza. I still didn't like the cowboy. He had big teeth.

"Rosa!" Petra sang as she came around the table to hug her. "I didn't know you were coming to the dance? If I had, James and I could have joined you," Petra said as she noted with a fleeting hint of irritation, just how closely Roza and I had been sitting next to each other.

"It was last minute," Roza replied, standing up to embrace the cowboy. "James, it's been awhile. How are you?"

He leaned down to kiss her cheek, close by to her lips and I barely restrained a loud growl of protest, instead keeping it low under my breath. Roza still heard me and jabbed me in the gut with her elbow.

"I've been great, Rosa. I saw you at church last week, but you were talking to the minister. I didn't want to interrupt you and then I saw you join your … friend," he said jealously, jerking his head in my direction. Roza's eyebrows quirked, but she didn't comment on James' possessive remark.

"You could have come over to say hello, James," she chided.

Roza introduced everyone and sat down. Immediately, Petra pulled over a vacant stool from an adjacent table and monopolized the conversation. Roza struggled to include Lissa and Serena in the discussion, but Petra was tenacious and despite Roza's efforts, she rudely persisted in ignoring the other women.

The longer Petra excluded Lissa, the angrier she became, and after a while she was glaring openly at her doppelganger. Her eyes grew stormy and deepened in color to olive green as the darkness built within her. Christian noticed and his face paled as he anticipated something happening that wouldn't be good. He abruptly reared to his feet and grabbed Lissa's wrist.

"Let's dance!" he said, jerking her off her stool.

"In a minute," she hissed turning her livid and intensely jealous gaze back on Petra.

I saw Lissa's eyes focus on the glass of beer and bowl of nuts in front of the selfish girl and before we could stop her, the glass 'appeared' to tip over onto the nut bowl. I groaned. Lissa used water magic to force the beer from the glass and it exploded all over Petra's face and hair. She then used telekinesis - an aspect of spirit - to fling the nuts at Petra's chest. Most of them made their way into the woman's low-cut sweater to settle in her padded bra.

Petra sprang to her feet, screaming shrilly, as beer dripped off her nose and into her cleavage. Lissa grinned, tremendously pleased with her magic, and Christian hurried her off before anyone noticed. I jerked my head at Grant, indicating he and Serena should follow the Royals. As I surveyed the chaos, Roza struggled to calm an hysterical Petra, while James snickered as he snapped pictures of his date with a smartphone camera. Something told me they'd be popular pics on Facebook. And I … well, I just rolled my eyes at how the night had ended.

"I think the date is over," I muttered.

Rosa's POV

We left the dance pavilion a half hour after Petra had been attacked by nuts and beer. I was a little ashamed to admit it, since Petra was my friend, but it had been hilariously funny and Petra had deserved it. I'd never known her to behave so pettily, but ever since Dimitri had given her the cold shoulder, she'd been less than friendly and she hadn't been around at all this past week.

It was also somewhat strange how alike in appearance Petra and Lissa were. Dimitri swore on the walk back to the car that Lissa was normally very welcoming, social and vivacious – a lot like Petra. Regardless, it had taken me a while to warm up to Lissa. Her strange behavior when we'd first met had been a little off-putting, what with the way she'd stared at me as if she'd seen a ghost or something.

The other two couples were strolling distantly behind us as we returned to our cars. Grant had told us before we left the bar that they were parked in the same parking lot as we were.

"I'm sorry about Petra," I said quietly, as hand-in-hand we strolled along the festival midway. Many of the vendors were shutting down as the time neared midnight, and most attendees were heading home after a long evening.

"It wasn't your fault, Roza and you shouldn't apologize or make excuses for other people. She's responsible for her own actions."

"Does that also apply to Lissa?" I asked, as I looked up at him. He looked startled by my question for a moment.

"What do you mean? Did something happen?" he asked worriedly. He turned his head to glance back at Lissa and Christian.

I shrugged. "Well, the way she stared at me when we first met was strange, don't you think?"

"Ahm, I think you just reminded her of somebody she used to know."

"Hmm, Lissa said that when we went to the bathroom. She told me that she lost her best friend several years ago and I look a lot like her."

"You see … a logical explanation."

"Maybe," I said, dropping the topic.

As we approached the car, a sick feeling began to churn in my stomach. I stopped suddenly and clutched at my belly.

"Roza, what's wrong?!" Dimitri asked me urgently.

I swallowed the acid taste of bile filling my mouth as sweat broke out across my forehead. "I don't know," I gasped. "I feel violently ill all of a sudden."

Dimitri froze and looked around, focusing on two men in the distance. They looked strange to me … not quite normal. Whatever Dimitri noticed about them, it seemed to terrify him. He pulled the keyless remote from his pocket to unlock the Escalade as he rushed me toward it, but the sickness overwhelmed me, slowing us down. He turned to the other two couples who were parked three vehicles over and yelled a word: Buria. Before I could determine what was happening, Dimitri scooped me into his arms and rushed me to the car, flinging me inside it.

"Lock the doors and stay in the car!"

"What? What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly afraid.

"Just do as I say, Roza. Promise me!"

I nodded. "O-okay."

As soon as I pressed the central locking button, Dimitri took off faster than I'd ever seen him move before and I turned around in my seat to watch what was happening through the rear window. What I saw, I couldn't believe and I blinked rapidly to clear what I felt certain must have been blurred vision. I blinked again and focused on Dimitri and Grant who were fighting the two strange men who'd appeared out of nowhere. They were incredibly strong and very fast, almost too fast for my eyes to follow.

Swallowing nervously, I climbed between the two front seats and into the rear passenger row for a better vantage point. Dimitri and Grant held what looked like long knives in their hands as they battled for supremacy over their assailants. I gasped as one of them threw Grant against a car. He was stunned by the impact, but he shook it off and dived back into the fray. Almost unconsciously, I once again climbed between the seats and into the baggage area at the rear of the Escalade. I crawled up to the rear window, shaking with terror as the sickness still churned in my stomach.

Lifting my head slowly, I peeked out the window and gasped. Dimitri was right in front of me, slashing at his assailant with the knife … no, not a knife … a stake. A silver stake. What the fuck? I ducked my head and then I popped up again, my gaze riveted on what was taking place in front of me. It was like passing by a train wreck or a car crash … you knew it was wrong to stare, but you just couldn't help yourself.

I watched with my mouth open as Dimitri kicked and punched at the man who just wouldn't stay down no matter how many times he was pounded on. For every strike Dimitri made, the man returned one twice as hard. I heard Lissa's muffled screaming from three cars away and it inexplicably grated on my nerves. Jesus Christ, she had a loud, piercing voice. She reminded me of Maili, except my daughter was three and Lissa was in her twenties. My head began to pound with one of my headaches and I couldn't bear to listen to her any longer.

"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed in her direction. She almost immediately quieted. "Thank the Lord for small mercies," I muttered as I focused on the fight still raging outside the window.

Dimitri slashed at the man's face with his stake, and I kind of shrieked when he drew blood across his cheek. The man roared with pain and stepped back momentarily to regroup. Dimitri used the opportunity to check on me through the rear window and I imagined for a moment that he could actually see me, but that was impossible in the dark night with no streetlamps and dark tinted windows. The man came running toward Dimitri again, and this time I screamed loudly and pointed.

"Watch out, Comrade!"

Dimitri tore his gaze from where I crouched and raised his stake toward the man, but he tackled Dimitri around the waist and they both slammed against the rear of the car I was in. The impact cracked the window and I gasped. Dimitri held his left forearm against the throat of the man whose face he'd slashed only moments ago, but there was no sign of any injury on him. What? That's not possible is it? How could someone heal in mere seconds? The man grappled with Dimitri, evading the hand wielding the deadly stake as he pressed Dimitri against the window. The man's mouth opened wide, and as he moved toward Dimitri's exposed throat, I glimpsed his wickedly long fangs dripping with saliva.

I screamed and the man … creature shifted his attention to me, leaning closer to peer through the window. His eyes glowed red and I gulped. I felt an urgent need to pee from sheer terror, but I refused to disgrace myself in such a way, and forced back the inconvenient sensation. The creature's momentary distraction was all Dimitri needed to bring his stake hand up and plunge it into the vampire's chest. Another scream caught in my throat. The vampire stopped fighting and fell to the ground and as he did, Dimitri pulled the blood-coated stake from his chest. He looked back at me one more time, before he jumped into the fray that Grant was still fighting with yet another vampire, and between the two of them, they finished him off in the same way Dimitri had just moments earlier – with a stake through the heart.

Abruptly, there was silence. The silence seemed to move around me, around everything, as if it were alive and moving in slow motion. As I crouched there disconnected and dazed, my brain struggled to comprehend what my eyes had witnessed.

Vampires really existed.

The pounding in my head escalated rapidly to an excruciating level and I began to hyperventilate. As I gasped for oxygen, I screamed and pounded my clenched fists against the rear window. I only wanted to escape from the waking nightmare. My last coherent image before I passed out, was of Dimitri wrenching open the rear door of the Escalade.

…

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave me a review.

Who wants to join Dimitri in the tub?!

Who wants to dance all night in Dimitri's arms?!

In case you're wondering, Rosa likes the same authors I do.

I made up the name of the band at the street festival: Rocky Mountain Moonshine Band. As far as I know, there isn't a band in Montana with that name.

Excerpts from Roza's engagement toast to Lissa and Christian were taken from engagementexperts dot com

I don't know if fairs etc in America sell showbags, but they are sold at nearly all fairs, trade shows and festivals in Australia. They are bags of goodies ranging in price from a few dollars to perhaps $50, depending on what's in them.

Next chapter: The dinner party that was supposed to take place in chapter 10 happens, and Rose grapples with a truth she never imagined.