Consciousness began to fade to a hazy gloom of blackout. Spike was faintly aware of being lifted…carried…set down upon the bed. His sight flickere... so what he witnessed seemed to skip forward in jerky movements. Keaira returned to her original appearance. She slashed her left nipple with an amethystine fingernail. Scarlet blood dribbled down her breast. She cradled him in her arms and pressed his mouth to her bleeding bosom. “Drink. It’ll stop the pain.” Her voice had taken on a motherly. She was upset about something. Women's stuff. So she wasn't a virgin. No big deal, Russ thought. It wasn't really expected, after all. An image of Claire suddenly flashed into his mind. Could he be unfaithful to Claire? Would it be unfaithfulness in fact, if it took place in 1928, half a century before Claire was born? Hardly! Although the circumstances were a little unusual, he had to admit."Russ! Could you come in here a minute?" What's the matter?" He went to the kitchen doorway and looked. More

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