“Alone at last,” said Aidan, putting his arm around his wife. She sighed and leaned into his embrace.

“Sometimes I wonder what we were thinking, wanting lots of kids. Just three is more than enough some days.”

Aidan chuckled. “You know you wouldn’t be happy if you didn’t have them. Remember before we had Spark? We wanted kids so badly.”

“I know. I just wish Dart were as calm as Flare.”

“I think two junior Zen masters would be a little much. I’d settle for him being as calm as Spark.”

This time it was Flame Song’s turn to laugh. “You’re right. Sometimes Flare is a little bit eerie. But I wouldn’t be without any of them.”

There was a long comfortable silence. Aidan put his head on Flame’s shoulder. She was in inch or two taller than he, so it worked better that way. There had been a time when Aidan had heartily hated being so short, but these days it didn’t bother him. Flame Song sighed happily. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” he replied.

“Aidan!”

He laughed. “I love you too.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“No, I’m hopeful,” he said.

“Oh? And what are you hoping for?”

“Well, for starters, I was hoping I might get a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?” Flame Song’s tone was playful, and there was a twinkle in her emerald-green eyes as she pulled back to look at Aidan. She found an answering twinkle in his sapphire-blue gaze.

“I said for starters.”

“And then?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something.”

He reached up and ran his fingers softly through her hair as they came together and kissed. When Flame came up for air, Aidan took her hand in his and kissed it, first on the back and then on the palm. Then he kissed her wrist slowly and gently, lingering over the spot where her blood rushed close to the skin. Her breathing quickened and her heart began to race as he worked his way upward, taking his time, drawing the moment out.

At first they were both far to distracted to hear the faint hum that was building in the room, but gradually it became too loud to miss. Aidan reluctantly broke off what he was doing. “Do you hear that?”

“Yes,” said Flame Song. “And look.” She pointed to the corner of the room where a soft glow was building in accompaniment to the hum. “What is that?”

The glow grew into a shimmering oval that hung just above the floor. “I think it’s a portal.” Aidan got nimbly to his feet, and his hands went to the pair of daggers he always wore at his belt. Maybe whoever was making the portal was friendly, and maybe not. Flame too had risen to her feet, and Aidan could tell by the faintest possible blurring that hovered around her that she was prepared to shift back into her firecat form if needed.

The portal solidified and then the center of it went clear and they could see through to the other side. A figure stood directly in front of the portal. When Aidan caught sight of it, his heart froze in instant dread. The tall, handsome man standing there was someone he knew all too well. Flame Song blurred into firecat form and snarled. “Drago,” she said, and the word was a hiss of hatred.

The man standing in the portal looked surprised and, oddly enough, fearful. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Please, listen to me for just a moment. I’m not Drago, not the one you know anyhow.”

Aidan’s eyes narrowed and he glared at the face of his hated enemy. “What do you mean, not Drago?”

The man looked from Aidan to Flame Song, and they were both struck by the obvious unease he was showing. “Maybe you’ll remember about eight years ago you visited another world, a world that mirrored your own? I am from that world. My name is Saint Drago, and I need your help.”

Aidan took a step closer to the portal, now giving the man a more thorough examination. His features were the same as those of Lord Drago, the vampire lord that had caused Flame, Aidan and their friends so much grief over the years, but he was dressed in flowing white robes and wore a holy symbol around his neck. Perhaps they were fakes, but it was true that the real Lord Drago couldn’t have worn a cleric’s robes or symbol. His vampiric nature was anathema to such, and even touching them would cause him considerable pain.

Flame Song said what both of them were thinking. “You could be Saint Drago, but how can we be sure? This could be some kind of trick.”

“I understand, believe me, I do. I’m having a hard time believing I’m talking to you and not to your doubles from my world as well.” He shivered slightly, and Aidan wondered what their opposites were like. If Saint Drago’s apparent unease was any indication, they weren’t nice people. “I don’t know what I can do to help you believe me,” Drago added. “I’ll take any test you can devise.”

“Can physical things pass through that portal?” asked Aidan, suddenly struck with an idea.

“Yes,” Drago answered.

“Then hold out your hand,” said Aidan.

“Aidan,” said Flame, realizing what test he had in mind. “I’m sure we can think of some other way to be sure. You don’t have to…”

“Yes, actually, I do. This is the only thing Lord Drago wouldn’t be able to fake.” He took another step closer and reached out his own had to touch Drago’s. He didn’t shake; he just touched his fingers lightly to the other man’s hand. Then he jerked his hand back, saying “Ow!” He stuck one finger in his mouth as if he’d burned it. “Yep, he’s the real thing,” he said to Flame. “Genuinely holy and then some,”

“Aidan,” she said with a scolding tone in her voice.

“Well, how else could I be sure he was telling the truth?”

“I don’t understand,” said Saint Drago. “What happened?”

“I’m a vampire,” said Aidan simply.

Drago gaped at him. “A vampire?”

Aidan grinned, showing his pointed eyeteeth. “You know, vampire? Drinks blood, comes out after dark, that sort of thing?”

“But how… you… I…” Drago paused to collect himself. “I know your double on my world is a vampire, but he’s downright evil. And of course my opposite in your world is also a vampire, but I most definitely am not. So how is it that you are?”

Aidan shrugged. “I didn’t exactly ask to become undead. It just sort of happened. I’m pretty well used to it by now though. And other than not being able to shake hands with clerics, it doesn’t get in the way much.” He grinned again.

Drago looked rather unnerved by the sight, but he collected himself and said, “Now that you accept me as myself, I need to tell you why I came. I need your help.”

“Our help? Why us?” asked Flame.

Drago sighed. “It’s a long story. Would you be comfortable if I came through? Speaking like this is rather awkward.”

“Of course!” said Flame Song. “Come in and have a seat.”