ANALISA. He whispers her name, and it echoes back to him on the wings of the night. She is so young, so alive. She radiates warmth and goodness, chasing the coldness from his being, banishing the loneliness from his soul. In four centuries of prowling, the shadows have brought him few pleasures, but the nearness of her soft lips, her warm throat, promise sweetness beyond imagining. She has wandered unchaperoned to the moonlit tomb where he takes refuge by day, little suspecting that with his eyes alone he can mesmerize her, compel her to do his bidding. Yet he will not take her life's blood by force or trickery. He will have it as a gift, freely given, and in exchange, he will make her wildest dreams come true.