"Candles?” she asked.

"Alexandra preferred things as they had been. She never adapted well to the modern era. There are additional lights, of course.” He gestured above. “Mostly for the human staff. I forget sometimes what poor eyesight you humans have in the dark, Cyn."

"You know,” she muttered, half to herself. “You and I will get along a lot better if you stop pointing out all of my human deficiencies. I'm sure you all must have a few of your own."

He gave a soft chuckle. “My manners are a bit rusty, I'm afraid. I have so little direct contact with humans anymore."

Cynthia eyed him doubtfully. He said all the right words, but there was always the tiny hint of a smirk on that handsome face, as though he was playing along for his own entertainment. “Right. So where's this security setup then?"

"This way.” He continued down the hall, making a turn into a small foyer near what would have been the main entrance if not for the useless checkerboard courtyard. Cyn followed him past a winding stairway and toward the back of the house where a square of light on the wood flooring marked an open door. Raphael paused in the light to wait for her, then preceded her down the stairs to the basement.

Duncan was already there, seated at the hub of a very sophisticated security control center. Every console was lit up, and as she glanced from monitor to monitor, she saw there was precious little of the guest house that wasn't under surveillance. She did a quick survey of the room, noticing the locked gun cage and what looked like a closed bank vault door against the far wall. Curious.

"Nice,” was all she said, focusing on the security console. “Do you have any redundancy between the houses? The main gate?"

"Not at this house. Not a live feed anyway,” Duncan said. “Alexandra lived apart.” He frowned slightly. “For many reasons. We do have the main gate, however. Video only. His fingers flew over the keyboard and he gestured at a large monitor hanging on the wall to her right. “The morning in question."

Cynthia walked over to the monitor and watched as a black, late model panel van pulled up to the gate. The guards were human, she noted. “Pause that.” The screen froze. “Human guards,” she said. “When I came through earlier the guards were all vamps."

"As you noted, they timed it carefully,” Raphael said right behind her. She started a little and his eyes shifted to her, his gaze lingering long enough to make her uncomfortable. “It was close enough to sunrise that my vampires had already retired for the day. These humans—” He paused and pointed at the monitor. “—would have been on duty perhaps half an hour, no more."

"You must have video of the shift change. Did you see anything different, unusual?"

"No. Most of Alexandra's vampire guards are my own, my children—"

"What does that mean? Your children?” Cynthia asked in surprise. “You don't mean literally..."

Raphael gave her an assessing stare. “Of course not, Cyn. Among us, the term ‘child’ refers to one whom we personally have brought over. One we have ... reborn. It is a powerful connection among our kind and one not easily broken."

"But it can be broken?"

He frowned at her. “Rarely. But, yes."

"You referred to a traitor. Was he one of yours?"

"No."

"But he was one of Alexandra's guards?"

"Yes. I thought I knew him. That was my mistake and one I shall personally rectify."

Cynthia waited for him to expand. When he didn't, she shrugged and turned back to the monitor. “Go ahead, please,” she told Duncan. The video activated again, showing the driver of the black van having a conversation with one of the guards. The guard was arguing with him, gesturing toward the house, then back to the paperwork the driver was trying to offer him. She saw the van shift as the back doors were opened and four men jumped out, two going to either side of the vehicle. At the same time, the driver opened his door, ramming it into the guard talking to him and distracting the others. She scowled as the intruders opened fire; AK-47's mowed down the human guards almost before they could raise their own weapons. One of Raphael's men inside the wall did manage to rake the front window of the van, cracking the windshield, but within seconds all of the guards were down and the gate was open.

Without audio, she couldn't hear what was said, but the driver was visibly cursing as he searched behind his seat and came up with a tire iron which he used to break out the rest of the glass, clearing the vehicle's front window. He barked a few words and his team piled back inside, before he drove beneath the camera's frame and out of sight.

"When I came through the gate tonight,” Cyn said, “I saw at least six vampires on the gate itself and an uncounted number throughout the grounds and in the main house. Why were there only the four humans three days ago?” she asked.

"Lord Raphael is in residence tonight,” Duncan explained quietly. “The main security detail travels with our master, which is why Alexandra has a separate unit. She prefers the comfort of familiar surroundings and rarely travels. When our master is gone, only her security detail remains."

"But you have cameras on the gate, someone must have seen what was happening."

Duncan nodded in agreement. “Again, with Lord Raphael absent, the gate would have been monitored from here at the manor house. There is a separate, smaller control room off the kitchen upstairs. It is used by the guards during the day.” He glanced at Raphael before continuing. “The traitor murdered the human guards here at the house before the van arrived and remained outside the vault after the others had retired for the day. We never thought—"

"Shall we move on?” Raphael interrupted.

Duncan bowed his head in acquiescence and turned back to the keyboard. The next bit of footage was from an interior camera and included some audio, although the quality was not very good. From the high ceilings and windows, Cynthia thought it must have come from one of the upstairs rooms. A young woman was playing the piano, something light and pretty. Mozart, she thought. The camera was behind her, so Cyn couldn't see her face yet. But long, black hair hung down her back in thick, shining curls, and she was small, almost childlike in size. A perfect size one, Cyn thought cynically. A man sat next to her, his hair just as black, but completely straight, cut blunt at the shoulder. He wore the same charcoal suit as Juro and the other bodyguards she'd see at the main house.

Cyn felt more than saw Raphael step up behind her, felt his breath stir her hair as he whispered a name, “Matias."

Cynthia glanced at him over her shoulder, uncertain if he'd intended her to hear, and then looked away from the naked pain on his face. She focused instead on the slightly Asian cast of Matias’ face, wondering how old he was and where he'd come from. This was the vampire Lonnie had told her about, Alexandra's supposed lover. The camera angle was high, but she thought the rumor was probably true. The two of them, Alexandra and Matias, seemed very relaxed together, like old friends, or old lovers.

A man's voice said something off-camera and Alexandra's back stiffened. She stood and turned, Matias holding out a hand to assist her as she came into full view for the first time. Cynthia sucked in a breath. She looked so young, little more than a girl, almost doll-like in a full-length gown of peach-colored satin. Small breasts plumped out of a low-cut, lace bodice that narrowed tightly to her waist, then flared over what had to be panniers of some sort beneath her dress. She reminded Cyn of the porcelain-faced dolls her grandmother used to bring her from Europe. Pretty little things to be put on a shelf and admired, but never touched, and never, ever played with.

"She's only a child,” Cyn said, her voice thick with disapproval. “How old was she when you turned her?"

Duncan jolted to his feet, a protest on his lips, but Raphael held up a strong, square-fingered hand to stop him, his gaze never leaving Cynthia's face. “I take into consideration, Ms. Leighton, that you are human and perhaps do not know our customs. My people—” He indicated Duncan with a tip of his head. “—are fiercely loyal to me and will not be so tolerant. You might want to consider that in the future. Whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, I am one of only eight vampire lords on this continent. My power is, frankly, beyond your comprehension. I expect, and have earned through my own efforts, the respect of those around me, and if not respect, then at least courtesy.

"Alexandra's physical age is not your concern, and such a question is an unforgivable breach of etiquette among my kind. Regardless of her appearance, she is an adult of several hundred years."

Cynthia flushed, embarrassed, angry and scared stiff. She'd been rattled by Raphael's obvious pain at seeing Matias and shocked at the girl's youthful appearance, but that was no excuse. She was smarter than this. “I apologize, Lord Raphael. I was ... surprised and reacted without thinking.” She lifted her chin, daring him to refuse her apology.

Raphael held her gaze, his face nearly expressionless. Cynthia forced herself to breathe.

"Duncan,” Raphael said at last, his dark eyes still on Cynthia. “Please continue.” Then he gave her a small nod of acceptance and gestured once again to the screen.

Cynthia turned slowly, her heart pounding, her legs wobbly with adrenaline rush. It took her a moment to focus on what she was seeing. “Who's the redhead?” she asked finally.

"Albin.” Raphael's voice was so cold it made her shiver, and she knew without asking that she was looking at the traitor.

The rest of the scene unfolded on screen as they watched. Cynthia sucked back a gasp of disbelief when she saw Matias literally dusted and gave a hard smile as Alexandra shook Albin off and strode from the room ahead of him. Duncan gave a little tsk of disgust when Albin paused before leaving the room to cast a contemptuous grin right at the camera. “He knew the cameras were there,” she commented.

"Of course,” Raphael agreed.