Author: Christopher Buecheler
Date: 2012-10-29 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Vampires
Description: It's been two and a half years since the American council defeated the Burilgi rebel Aros Kreskas and restored order to their world. With the Children of the Sun, the militaristic cult of vampire hunters, in a period of apparent dormancy, the vampires of North America have enjoyed a time of relative peace. Two Majors has spent the years focusing on training with body and sword, and on rebuilding the life that was torn away from her by Abraham. She still holds out hope that she might someday locate her friend Tori, and bring the former vampire to salvation, but with each passing day that outcom

The Children of the Sun
By Christopher Buecheler
Part 3 of the II AM Trilogy

The Children of the Sun
by Christopher Buecheler

Copyright © 2012 Christopher Buecheler.

All rights reserved.

http://iiamtrilogy.com/
http://writing.cwbuecheler.com/

The Children of the Sun is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

First Edition: November 2012

ISBN: 978-0-9884708-0-4

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to IIAMTrilogy.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover Art by Karla Ortiz

Tori Illustration by Christine MacTernan

Cover Design by Christopher Buecheler

Have You Read the First Two Books?

The Children of the Sun is the sequel to Blood Hunt and is the third book in the

II AM Trilogy. If you have not read the first two books, there’s good news: the first one, The Blood That Bonds, is free! Head to http://www.iiamtrilogy.com to download it – it is available for every major eReader, including Kindle, Nook, iBooks, Sony Reader, Kobo, and more. You can also purchase the print edition.

Dedication

For my brothers and sisters.

Nick and Jessie

Patrick

Korey

Kasey

Acknowledgments

This book would never have come to fruition without the efforts, enthusiasm and encouragement of many people. I cannot thank them enough for their help, and am glad to once again be able to credit them here.

         My wife, Charlotte, who gets first billing every time because she does more to make my writing happen than anyone else. From threatening me with bodily harm should I do wrong by her favorite characters, to never holding back when she thinks I can do more, she makes these books better than they otherwise would ever be.

         My editor Lauren, back with me for another run. Her contributions improved the book immeasurably, as they always do. Of course, if there are any problems left to be found in the text, the fault is surely mine.

         My cover artist Karla, who was absolutely determined to make this the best cover in the series. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say she succeeded, and I am thrilled with her beautiful work! She also delivered the amazing Ashayt painting seen in this book.

         Christine MacTernan, who did the killer Tori illustration that I used as a teaser and in this book.

         My advance readers: Nora, Joost, Caryn, Charles, Gabe, Brett, Trevor, Tracy, Diana, Kim, Sheri, and Jennifer.

         My fans. Interacting with you guys on Facebook and Twitter, or through email, has been so consistently gratifying and amazing. I love your passion for my work, and I truly hope that you enjoy this final chapter in Two’s story as much as you did the first two!

Part I

Chapter 1
A Cut on the Arm

The blade made a rushing, hissing noise as it traveled through the air in front of her, and Two Ashley Majors brought her own weapon up to parry. She knew that if she was slow, or if she misjudged her timing, then blood would spill. The man attacking her wouldn’t let the strike kill her, but neither would he stop it from cleaving deep into her flesh. Two knew this because it had happened before, more than once. She was in no hurry now to repeat the experience.

Her own weapon, an inferior version of the same sword her adversary held, was thirty inches long and made from layered steel alloys. Two could feel the soft leather that wrapped its hilt, smell its oiled blade, sense its weight and balance as she moved. Not as beautiful as the other, it was no less deadly and cut just as deep.

It could also be used to deflect an incoming blow, and it was to this purpose that Two put her weapon now, stepping sideways even as she brought it up. There was a jarring shock as the swords connected, the sound of metal on metal, the briefest whiff of something like electricity in the air.

“Good!” the man cried, and even as he complimented her he spun, swinging his sword at her midsection. Two evaded this blow by springing backward, and the blade passed as easily through the air as it would have through the skin and muscle of her belly.

“Jesus, Jakob,” she growled, repositioning herself. “You trying to gut me?”

“Trying to teach you how to avoid being gutted,” Jakob replied, pausing only a brief moment before advancing on her again.

Two had graduated to live sparring five months ago, and this particular session had already lasted nearly thirty minutes. It was a long time to go without a break, even for a pair of vampires, but both of them were in excellent shape. Not yet winded, Two grinned as Jakob moved forward.

“Having fun?” he asked, feinting to the left before attacking from the right. Two bit on the fake and found herself off balance, unable to parry the blow. She could fall to the floor and avoid the incoming blade, perhaps, but knew that she would only find the weapon’s tip held to her back. There was another option available, though, if she was brave enough.

Two lunged forward, letting the blade hit her right shoulder. It sliced through the skin and subcutaneous fat, biting deep into her muscle, and Two felt blood pouring down her arm even before the pain caught up to her. Snarling, refusing to let go of her grip on her sword, she let herself fall sideways. Her left hand hit the floor and she pivoted on it, spinning away and dislodging the blade from her shoulder. Jakob, caught off guard, moved too late to parry.

She punched him in the jaw with her left fist, sending a jolt of pain through her arm. Ignoring it, she pressed her advantage, grabbing Jakob’s right wrist and, in a single fluid motion, reversing her grip on her own weapon and bringing it up to press against the soft spot below his chin. Jakob went rigid.

“Call it off,” Two told him. This close, she could see tiny bits of stubble against his olive skin, already growing back from his evening shave.

“Lord, but you’re fast,” Jakob said, and she felt his right arm twitch in her grasp.

“Don’t even! Flattery’s not getting you anywhere. Call it off.”

“I yield,” Jakob said. “Yes, all right. Well done, Two.”

Two let go of his wrist, but she kept her sword against his neck as he slowly knelt down to set his blade on the floor. Only once her friend’s weapon was out of his grasp and he was standing again did she remove the blade from his throat, stepping back and favoring him with a wide grin.

“First time,” she said, and Jakob gave her a rueful smile. She had come close on a few occasions to winning a round against him but had never before succeeded.

“Indeed,” he said. “I won’t fall for that again.”

“I know. And I know you could have killed me a dozen times during that fight, anyway.”

Jakob laughed. “Perhaps. That was good, though. You took the hit on purpose.”

“Did I have a choice?”

“I think not. I was expecting you to dive and preparing to end the match. Your strategy was a bit unorthodox, but it was courageous and effective. Stephen would be proud.”

Two smiled at this but felt a twinge of sorrow inside. It had been more than two years since her friend Stephen Connelly had been killed in the battle with the mad vampire Aros Kreskas, and it still hurt to think about it. Stephen had helped her reshape her body and promised to teach her to fight, but he had never got a chance. Jakob, who had shot Aros twice in the head only moments after the madman had stabbed Stephen in the chest, had taken up the task.

“How is the wound?” Jakob asked her, and Two glanced at her shoulder. The right arm of her T-shirt was soaked crimson with blood, and the liquid had run in rivulets all the way down to her fingers. She put one in her mouth and grimaced. Already cold.

“Hurts like a bitch,” she said.

“It will heal.”

Two nodded. Yes, it would heal. The blood – that amazing, nearly magical substance that coursed through both of their veins – would see to that. Already the wound was closing, beginning to knit. In only a few days there would be little more than a scab.

“Does it bother Theroen when you come home like this?” Jakob asked. He had picked up his sword again and was cleaning it with a large cloth.

“What, carved up like a ham? Not really. I’m not sure he understands it, exactly, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. You know how it is, though … nothing bothers him.”

Theroen had been the most unflappable person Two had ever met when they had first become lovers, and neither the two years he had spent in a state of near-death suspended animation, nor the two and a half since, had changed that about him. His eternal calm stood in direct contrast to her own tendency to charge headlong into the fray.

Still, she loved him, and knew that he loved her. She could feel it, not only in the metaphorical sense but through the very real mental connection the two of them now shared. This connection seemed to grow stronger with each passing day as Two’s vampire abilities continued to develop. Someday, she knew, they would be able to communicate entirely without speaking, simply by listening to each other’s thoughts. The idea of that sort of intimacy alternately thrilled and terrified her.

Jakob finished cleaning his sword and crossed the room to a glass-walled case where he set the blade down upon a wooden display stand. Two cleaned off her own weapon and slid it into its stiff leather sheath. Unlike Jakob’s sword, it was not a masterwork and would be fine secured in a locker.

“You’ve become quite good,” Jakob said as she turned around. He was leaning against the wall, head tilted to one side, appraising her. Two shrugged.

“Good teacher, lots of time to practice, good blood …”

“Yes, but I think you’ve a natural talent for it. The blood makes you fast and strong, but it doesn’t shape your instincts.”

Two smiled, feeling her cheeks color a little. She dropped her gaze for a moment, and when she looked back up, Jakob was still regarding her. He reached behind his head and pulled away the band that was holding back his long, dark hair.

“I believe you’re ready,” he said at last.

“Ready for what?”

“I’ve made you wait longer than I should have to visit one of our clubs, because I have a reputation to uphold and it wasn’t enough just to know that you could survive. I wanted you to be able to win, and I think you can now – at least against some of the younger fighters. You’re fast and strong, well ahead of where you should be at your age, but it’s not just that. You have a feel for it now. You’re creative and clever, and you act on instinct the way a fighter should.”

“Training is a filter for instinct. That’s what Stephen told me,” Two said.

“Exactly so.”

“When do I start?”

“The next session starts in two weeks. I would be happy to accompany you then. I’m curious to see how you’ll fare. I don’t think we’ve had anyone who has trained for so little time, but there’s never been a fledgling quite like you before, either.”

It was true; Theroen was the first of his kind, a vampire in which the three dominant strains had been reunited. He was neither Eresh, as he had once been, nor Ashayt, nor Ay’Araf. He was instead Theroen-Sa, a source vampire, and she was his first child: Theroen-Chen.

Two ran a hand through her unruly blonde hair. She had kept it short – about three inches – ever since Stephen had instructed her to cut it on the first night of her training. She smiled.

“OK, I’m in. What’s it going to be like?”

Jakob grinned. “One or more young Ay’Araf are going to try and prove that a pretty little baby vampire has no business in their ring. I expect you to make them beg for mercy.”

Two laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’ve no doubt that will be fine. I will send you an email with the date and directions to the club. Theroen is welcome to come if he’d like to spectate, but I’m afraid he won’t be allowed to fight without a sponsor.”

“I don’t think he fights unless he has to, anyway,” Two said.

“Very good. See you at our next practice?”

“Yes. Thanks, Jakob.”

The vampire nodded to her and turned to go. Two, who had managed to work up a thin sheen of sweat, tinged pink with the blood on which she now survived, headed for the showers.

* * *

“What have you done to yourself this time?” Theroen asked as Two took off her leather jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair. For a moment she had no idea what he was talking about, and then she remembered the large gash in her upper right arm. Some blood had seeped through the wrapping, forming a maroon splotch on her T-shirt. She glanced at it and grinned.

“Technically, Jakob did it to me,” she said. Theroen rolled his eyes, but that subtle smile she so adored remained on his lips.

“I am certain you in no way provoked him,” he said.

“Well maybe … but I won!” Two exclaimed. She raised her arms in a gesture of victory, then winced as a streak of pain ran through her wounded tricep.

Theroen’s smile became a momentary grin, and he nodded. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks. Now give me a kiss.” Two leaned over from behind him, her face upside-down, and pulled his lips against hers. Theroen kissed her, reaching up to cup the back of her head with his hand. After a moment they broke apart and Two moved toward the kitchen, grinning.

“Whatcha been up to?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of Bordeaux. Two had become a fan of the wine during her many evenings with Naomi, the vampire woman with whom she had shared a short but intense relationship in the months before Theroen had returned to life.

“Studying,” Theroen said.

“Oh, right. Nan mivraten tah. Tah se posar.”

“Posir. Unless you meant to say that the blood is fat …”

Two set her glass of wine down. She flopped onto the couch next to him, kicking off her shoes and putting her feet up on the lacquered coffee table.

“I haven’t really been keeping up with my lessons,” she said.

“My surprise is legendary,” Theroen replied, his voice dry. He placed a bookmark into his notebook and closed it, looking over at her with his luminescent, light-brown eyes. Two laughed and stuck her tongue out.

“Don’t be a jerk.”

“If you insist. So, you beat Jakob and nearly lost an arm. Did anything else interesting happen?”

“Oh! I totally forgot. Jakob said I’m ready to fight at the clubs!”

Theroen pondered this for a moment before asking, “Is he sure?”

Two frowned. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Theroen reached over, touched her hand, smiled at her. “I believe in your abilities, my love. But … Jakob is careful to make sure that he does not maim you. I worry that these others may be less cautious. I detest seeing you hurt.”

“I’m not a fan, either, but Jakob wouldn’t let me go if he didn’t think I was ready. It’s not like they’re going to put me up against the best guys or anything.”

“And this is something you want to do?”

“Totally. I want to go beat up some Ay’Araf. It’ll be fun. Will you come watch me?”

“Are you sure you want me there? I might be all atwitter from nerves,” Theroen said, glancing sidelong at her, and Two grinned.

“It would be so worth it just to see you … what’d you say? ‘All atwitter.’”

“Then I would be happy to attend.”

“Awesome.” Two leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment.

“Naomi called,” Theroen said. He was keeping his tone neutral, but Two could hear a certain cautiousness there. Theroen had never quite made peace with the knowledge that Two and Naomi had been in a relationship. It was one of the few areas in which it seemed she could genuinely hurt him if she wanted to – or even if she was simply careless.

“What’d she say?”

“She is going to be at L’Obscurité – how did she put it? – ‘annoying Thomas’ at around one. We are welcome to join her.”

“I don’t think she’s ever annoyed Thomas,” Two said.

“He seems quite fond of her,” Theroen agreed. “All the more so when one considers that he is an agent for a group of cultists who wish us all dead. It’s a remarkable acting job.”

“Not sure he’s acting … least, not about liking her,” Two replied.

“You may be right. At any rate, I am not against joining her for a drink.”

Two glanced at her watch. They had twenty minutes or so. “I could do that.”

L’Obscurité, the Manhattan nightclub at which Two and Naomi had met, was a short walk from the apartment she shared with Theroen, and just across the street from Naomi’s own dwelling in the West Village. Thomas had been there for years, ostensibly serving as head bartender. In reality, he was a member of the Children of the Sun, a secretive cult of vampire hunters, and had been posted there to spy on Naomi. That she was also spying on him was something he either didn’t know or didn’t care about. Two was still not sure of the truth.

“Have we any plans for this week?” Theroen asked. He scratched at the back of his head, his fingers disappearing into his dark brown hair, still short but shaggier than when she had first met him, and stretched.

“Council meeting on Friday,” Two replied. Theroen sighed, frowning.

“I am growing to resent their schedule.”

“At least William usually keeps things short.”

“It is easy to do that when they never have any news about Tori.”

Two grimaced. Tori’s situation was a particular sore spot for her and Theroen both. Once upon a time the girl had been a vampire, Theroen’s “sister,” also sired by Abraham. Now she was mostly human again and working for the Children. Or at least, she had been; shortly after the council had begun investigating her actions, Tori had disappeared completely, and the abductions of Burilgi vampires had come to a halt.

“Yeah, it gets old,” Two said after a pause. She sipped her wine, felt Theroen’s eyes on her, and gave him a questioning look.

“They don’t care about her,” Theroen said.

“Some of them do. Naomi does. Jakob does.”

“No. They care about you, and so they make a token effort on her behalf, but most of them would be very glad indeed if she was gone for good.”

Two shrugged. “I guess I don’t see it that way.”

“I understand,” Theroen said. “They are your friends.”

“They could be your friends too, if you’d let them,” Two said. She heard the trace of acid in her voice but was powerless to stop it. Theroen tilted his head, saying nothing.

Two sighed, put her hand against her forehead for a moment, looked up at Theroen, and said, “It’s hard. She just vanished. What are they supposed to do?”

“I know you wish I was more social,” Theroen said.

“That’s not what we’re talking about.”

“Is it not?”

“We’re talking about Tori. I know you think they don’t care, but they do, even if only because they don’t want her to pop back up and start killing people. We still don’t know whatever happened to those Burilgi she took, but it’s not like they’ve come back.”

“No,” Theroen said. “They are surely dead. I know this troubles Jakob and Naomi, and I know that if given the opportunity to learn Tori’s whereabouts, they would take it, but I do not think we should mistake that for their caring about her. What do you suppose they would do to her should they find her?”

“If they find her guilty, they’ll try to kill her,” Two said. “I know that.”

“Try and succeed, I’m afraid, even with her gifts.”

“Who says they’ll find her guilty? They didn’t find me guilty, and I killed their boss.”

“You killed an evil psychopath who had been lording over them for centuries, and you did it for honorable reasons. For most vampires in this country, Abraham’s death was a blessing. Tori, on the other hand, has abducted two dozen innocent vampires and most likely murdered them.”

“We don’t know she killed them!” Two cried.

“The Tori I knew would have killed them.” Theroen said. He paused a moment and then continued. “I apologize, my love. I know I am upsetting you, but … these meetings frustrate me. I am torn between my desire to find out what has happened to my sister and my knowledge of what will happen when they finally hunt her down.”

Two leaned forward, setting her glass of wine on the coffee table, and turned sideways on the couch to look directly at her lover.

“That’s why I want you to be more social,” she said. Theroen raised his eyebrows at this, inviting her to elaborate, and so she continued. “It’s just politics. It’s all the bullshit I swore I would never get involved with. If it was just us, if we only had to worry about you and me, I wouldn’t care. I’d say ‘fuck the council’ and go anywhere, do anything. I’d leave it behind if that’s what you wanted. You know that.”

“I would never ask that of you,” Theroen said, and Two shook her head.

“No, I know. I’m just explaining. I like the people on the council, but that doesn’t mean you have to, and I wouldn’t care if they liked you except …”

“You hope that if they think favorably of us, they will be lenient with Tori,” Theroen finished for her.

“Yes. Exactly. They might at least give us time to try and explain what she’s been through and why they should be lenient. If we’re there for her she has a chance, but if we give up on the council and they do end up catching her … it’s all over.”

Theroen considered this in silence for a time, then he gave her a gentle smile. Leaning forward, he took her glass of wine from the coffee table, sipped from it, and set it back down.

“Let’s go be social,” he said.

* * *

The girl sitting at the bar looked too young to be drinking despite having celebrated her twenty-first birthday in the early seventeenth century. Naomi’s body had been frozen forever in time at the age of seventeen, but she had been alive now for just over four hundred years. Lithe and beautiful, with hair the color of honey and large grey eyes, Naomi had been an object of desire wherever she went for all of her long life. She had become an expert at withdrawing into the shadows in crowded places, staying largely unnoticed, but tonight she didn’t seem to care. When she saw Two and Theroen, she leapt to her feet, swaying noticeably and waving.

Two smiled, waved back, and made her way through the crowd. Naomi gave both Two and Theroen a brief hug and then sat back down, inviting them to do the same.

“It’s so good to see you!” she said, taking a long drink from her glass of wine.

“Nice to see you too,” Two said. “Been here long?”

Naomi shook her head. “Perhaps twenty minutes.”

“Cool.”

Thomas made his way over to them, standing behind the counter and smiling his brilliant smile. A tall, gorgeous man with skin the color of dark chocolate and a smoothly shaved head, Thomas reminded Two of the models she sometimes saw in fashion catalogs, skintight leather pants and overpriced T-shirt included. She gave him a small wave.

“Hi, Thomas.”

“Evening, Two. How are you tonight?”

“I’m doing great. You?”

“My bar is jumping, I’m surrounded by beautiful ladies, and the tips have been good. Can’t complain!”

Two laughed. “Awesome. Can I have the usual?”

“No problem. How about you, my man?”

“Talisker eighteen, please,” Theroen said. “Just a drop of water.”

“Sure thing. Coming right—”

“Oh!” Naomi cried, leaping again to her feet. “I’ll be right back. I simply must dance to this song.”

Two watched, amused, as Naomi made her way to the dance floor. Once there, she had her choice of several partners and picked a tall, muscular man with long, dark hair. Drunk or not, Naomi knew how to move her body, and her partner was quickly pressed against her, undulating in sinuous rhythm.

“What the hell have you got her drinking?” Two asked Thomas, who had stopped mixing drinks for a moment to openly stare at Naomi’s sensual dancing.

“Already like that when she got here,” he replied. “Actually trying to slow her down a little …”

“She’ll be fine,” Two said. “I’ll make sure.”

Thomas nodded and set their drinks down, moving on to other customers. Two picked up her bourbon and sipped it, then she glanced at Theroen and smiled.

“How you doing?” she asked him.

Theroen lifted his glass of scotch to his nose, breathed deeply, smiled, and set it back down.

“I used to drink this on trips to London,” he said. “I am well, Two. It’s good to see Naomi relaxing a bit.”

“Now we just need to work on you,” Two said, giving him a sly grin.

Theroen chuckled and took a sip of scotch, clearly savoring it.

“Can I try?” Two asked. Theroen handed her the glass and she tasted it, then made a face.

“Oh, my God …”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Theroen conceded.

“It’s like taking a swig from a bottle of liquid smoke!”

Theroen laughed. “Yes, that’s not far off.”

Naomi was returning to the bar, having turned down an invitation to keep dancing. Her temporary partner looked unhappy, but he had grudgingly given up and settled for following her rump with his eyes as she strode away.

“I think he likes you,” Two commented, tilting her head toward the man, and Naomi smiled a little.

“The dancing was enjoyable. Too bad he absolutely bathed in cheap cologne,” she said.

“The perils of L’Obscurité,” Two replied, and Naomi nodded. She finished her glass of wine in a single gulp and set it on the bar. Thomas swooped in to refill it without a word, moving just as quickly on to his other patrons.

“Do you want to find a … oh, merde, comment dit-on? One of those places where you … sit?”

“A booth?” Two suggested.

“Yes! Sorry. Desolée. My English sometimes escapes me when I’ve … had a lot of wine.”

“Are you OK?” Two asked. She had seen Naomi this drunk, but only a few times in her life, and never this early in the evening.

“Do I look not OK?” Naomi asked in a tone that warned Two against answering the question, but before Two could make a choice, Naomi stood and began making her way through the crowd, leaving her companions to follow. Two glanced at Theroen, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Guess she’ll tell us if she needs to,” Two said, and Theroen nodded. He turned and began to follow Naomi. Two picked up her glass and made her way after them.

Once comfortably settled into the booth, situated in a dark corner of the club, Naomi seemed fine. She chatted with them easily, the conversation moving in a fractured, circuitous way as she latched onto different topics. She spoke of William, her mentor and the head of the American council, and of the inroads they were making with the Burilgi. She spoke also of a recent fashion show she had attended, and of her plans to visit South America in the winter.

“We never get the chance to talk like this at the council meetings,” she said. “I know I’m prattling on, but I don’t even remember the last time we got together to talk. How have you both been? What’s new in your lives?”

Two glanced at her shoulder and smiled. “Well, Jakob almost chopped my arm off at practice earlier, but he says I’m ready to go fight at the clubs.”

“Oh, how exciting!”

“And let’s see … Rhes and Sarah had their baby. Did you know she was pregnant?”

“You had mentioned it. How lovely for them! Was it a boy or a girl?”

“Boy. Nathan James. Born about a week ago. I have some pictures but haven’t seen him in person yet … they only got home from the hospital on Monday.”

“That’s so wonderful. I’m glad they still keep in touch. I know they mean a lot to you.”

“They’re good people, and they nearly got themselves killed just trying to help me. Least I can do is respond to a few emails and Facebook posts, right?”

Naomi smiled, nodded, drank from her glass and emptied it. “I need another.”

“Are you sure?” Theroen asked. The words were delivered in the same calm tone that was his signature, but the question nonetheless earned him a glare.

“I’m quite capable of handling my alcohol, Mr. Anders,” Naomi said. “You needn’t worry on my behalf.”

“It was only a question, Naomi. I meant nothing by it,” Theroen said. He finished up his drink and, glancing at Two’s nearly empty glass, stood up. “Let me make it up to you by making the trip to the bar.”

Naomi seemed to find this acceptable. She smiled and slid her glass across the table. “Thomas will know what to fill it with.”

“Of course,” Theroen said. He took the empty glasses with him on his way back to the bar. Naomi turned to Two.

“I’m going to go powder my nose … haven’t had dinner yet,” Naomi said. “Do you want to come?”

Two shrugged. “Sure. Should we wait ‘til Theroen gets ba—”

“He’ll figure it out. Let’s go!”

She stood, taking Two’s hand and pulling her up. Two was surprised as always by the strength Naomi possessed, hidden so well in the vampire girl’s long, thin limbs. She could feel Naomi’s aura, a kind of pulsating warmth, roll over her like a wave. It was a rare gift possessed only by a few vampires of her kind, and Naomi had been working with the ancient vampire Ashayt – the source of her line – to gain control of it. Two was unsure if what she was feeling now was intentional or merely a sign that Naomi had lost some control in her intoxication.

She knew what warmth like this meant. Two had felt it before, many times, usually while lying mostly naked in bed with Naomi, kissing and caressing. That time had long passed; it had been more than two and a half years since the last time she and Naomi had been intimate.

“Naomi …” Two could hear the caution in her voice, the accusation, and hated herself for it.

“Oh, relax,” Naomi said, not understanding. “He’ll be fine.”

She tugged on Two’s hand and pulled her toward the bathroom. Somewhat against her better judgment, Two allowed herself to be led.

The women’s bathroom was cool and dim, scented with lilac, lit by pink-tinged wall sconces.  The slate-tiled walls reverberated with the thud of the music from beyond the door. There were four stalls, none in use, and a black granite countertop housing four stainless steel basins. Two could see a few specks of what she thought was cocaine on the counter, not an uncommon sight at the club.

“Oh, boo … no one’s home,” Naomi pouted.

“Give it a minute.”

“Of course.”

Naomi leaned forward, her belly pressing against the counter, inspecting her eyeliner in the mirror. Two stood back by the door, feeling awkward, unsure why Naomi had invited her here and angry at herself for the suspicions running through her head.

The door opened and a young Hispanic woman with long, dark hair came bustling in. She was wearing what looked like half a dozen bracelets on each arm and a silver dress that barely hid her underwear. She ignored the two women, shouting into her cellphone instead.

“No, Stacey, Listen … you gotta come back. I heard him. Yeah, but … Stacey, come on. He’s not that bad.”

Naomi glanced at Two, smirking, and Two laughed a little.

“But I told your mom!” the girl whined, drawing the last word out into two distinct syllables. “Stop being a bitch and just … no, fuck you!”

The girl jabbed at her phone, ending the call, and stood there looking at it for a moment in disgust. She slowly became aware that the other two women in the room were staring at her, and she looked up at Naomi.

“What?! Don’t you have, like, anything better to do?”

Naomi grinned. When vampire bodies were preparing to feed, muscles in the gums pushed their two canine teeth forward, and the effect made her smile look very predatory indeed. The young girl, sensing that something was not right, looked suddenly nervous.

“Hey, just … I’ll just go, OK? I didn’t mean to interrupt or like, whatever, so …”

Naomi was advancing on the girl, mesmerizing her with a combination of gaze and aura, the latter of which Two could feel from across the room.

“Why don’t we go into that stall, and I’ll give you a little kiss?” Naomi said, her voice low and husky and hungry. Two shivered.

“Oh, uh … ‘kay,” the girl said, breathless and unable to take her eyes off the vampire in from of her. Naomi led her into the stall and closed the door. Two heard a soft shuffling and a small thud. There were kissing noises, and the girl began to make a soft, urgent cooing that rapidly intensified.

“Oh!” the girl cried out, and then there was no noise at all for a few moments. Two leaned against the bathroom wall, amused and mildly aroused, waiting for Naomi to finish. Eventually the other vampire emerged from the stall, grinning and licking her lips.

“She OK?” Two asked.

Naomi nodded. “Oh, I think so. Too bad she won’t remember a bit of it.”

“How come I always remembered?”

“I never wanted you to forget,” Naomi said, leaning in close and looking Two in the eyes. “You know … you were the last woman I drank from. It’s been all men since. I missed it.”

“Sounded like you were having fun.” Two felt fidgety, hot, her skin prickly. She knew where this was leading, wanted to speak out against it, but she couldn’t seem to.

“Her lips tasted like peppermint,” Naomi said. “Let me show you …”

Before Two could reply, Naomi had leaned in and was kissing her, the aura flooding forth. Without thinking and not entirely in control, Two kissed back, and for a moment they were locked together in silence. Then the girl in the stall, still swooning, dropped her phone to the floor with a clatter. The sound of it brought Two out of her trance and she turned her head away.

“No!” Naomi said in a breathless little cry. “No, kiss me. Please!”

Two forced herself further away. She grabbed Naomi’s shoulders, not in an embrace but rather using them as leverage. Naomi pushed forward, still trying to kiss her.

“Naomi, stop,” Two said. “Stop it. I don’t … fucking knock it off!”

Two shoved with both hands this time, hard, and Naomi took a stumbling step backward. She nearly lost her balance and leaned against the metal wall of the closest stall, visibly deflating. She put her hands to her face and began to cry.

“I knew you were going to do that,” Two muttered. “Why did I come in here? I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m sorry,” Naomi sobbed. “Oh, Two, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have, but I just … I just want to kiss you! I want to make love to you!”

“So you thought you’d just, what … rape me?” Two demanded.

“No! That’s … I could see that you were turned on. I could feel it!”

“That doesn’t mean I want to get hypnotized and fuck you in a public bathroom!” Two said. She was forcing herself not to shout, but wasn’t hiding the anger in her voice. She wanted to end this, now, for good.

“Don’t say that,” Naomi wept. “Don’t make it out to be so … so dirty. I just—”

There was a bang from the far end of the room as the stall door opened and the girl in the silver dress stumbled out, looking bleary-eyed.

“Can you have your stupid dyke-fight somewhere else?” she asked. “I’m trying to piss.”

Two whirled on her. “Get your bridge-and-tunnel ass the fuck out of here before you get hurt!”

“PMS much?” the girl said, giving Two an exaggerated eye roll, but she made her way out of the bathroom. Naomi gave an incredulous laugh and rubbed at her face with the back of her arm.

“I’m so drunk,” she muttered.

“Christ, Naomi,” Two said. “Why did you have to go and do that?”

“I don’t know!” Naomi said. “I wasn’t thinking. I just … Mother Ashayt went to California and … and … I’m alone. I was so happy to see you, and I started thinking about London.”

Two closed her eyes, resting a hand against her forehead for a moment. She hated this. She hated that she had done this to Naomi, and she hated that she couldn’t fix it. All she could do was tell the truth.

“What we had in London is over,” Two said. “It’s done, and I’m sorry, but it’s done for good. You’re beautiful and brilliant, and I feel so fucking bad that I hurt you the way I did, but I don’t love you. Not the way you want me to.”

“And you never, ever will,” Naomi said, her voice bitter. “I know, but thank you for making sure to say it yet again.”

“Don’t you try to lay this shit on me,” Two replied.

“I’m going home,” Naomi said. “I’m stupid and pathetic, and you’re not interested, and I don’t even want to look at Theroen. I don’t want to watch him sit there and not say anything and f—fucking judge me.”

“Nobody’s judging you. Naomi, come on …”

Two stepped forward, reaching out to put her hand on Naomi’s shoulder, but the vampire girl pulled away. “Don’t touch me.”

Two felt anger welling up inside her again. Fine, she thought. I’m not the one who tried to use her magic powers to get some cheap bathroom sex.

“I’m going back to the table,” she said. “You should come with me, sit down, and sober up. You were already drunk when we got here.”

“Fuck you,” Naomi said, and now she was crying again. “Fuck you, and fuck him too.”

Two clenched her teeth, took a deep breath, and said, “OK, Naomi. Do what you want.”

“I tried,” Naomi said, and before Two could respond to this, Naomi pushed her way out of the bathroom. Two knew she would leave by the side exit, sparing herself any questions from Theroen.

Two took a moment to compose herself and left the bathroom as well, passing a laughing gaggle of women who were headed in to relieve themselves, or do drugs, or possibly both. Two didn’t know or care. When she sat down next to Theroen, he gave her a curious look but didn’t speak.

“Not going to ask where I’ve been?” Two prompted.

“I had assumed you and Naomi were in the bathroom.”

“Yeah. She went to find some dinner and asked me to come with her. I should’ve known better, but … I dunno. I went. She tried to kiss me.”

Theroen considered this, looking at her in silence for a time lengthy enough that Two grew uncomfortable.

“If you’re reading my mind, I’ll save you the trouble. I shoved her away. Then I told her it was over, like it’s been from the minute I found out we could bring you back.”

“I am not reading your mind, Two, I promise. If I doubted your faithfulness, I would say so.”

Two sighed, picked up her new glass of bourbon, took a large swallow, and grimaced. “Naomi went home.”

“Yes, I gathered.”

“She’s drunk and lonely, and now I’m pretty sure she thinks we both hate her. I’m damn sure she hates herself.”

“Not because of what she did, though,” Theroen said, and Two shook her head.

“No, not because of that. She hates herself because she hates loving me and she can’t seem to stop.”

“Perhaps it would be best if the two of you broke off contact for a time,” Theroen said, and Two gave him a bitter laugh.

“You’re not getting out of council meetings that easily,” she said.

“I wasn’t—”

“It was a joke, hon. Just a joke.”

Theroen nodded, smiled, picked up his scotch and sipped at it. At last he spoke.

“Life is beautiful, is it not?”

Two rolled her eyes but gave him a tired grin. “Fucking gorgeous.”

Chapter 2
First Strike

The man’s name was Matthias Vanden. He was an Eresh vampire, more than six hundred years old, and he had come to visit America at the request of his two fledglings. Thus far he had enjoyed it; the three of them were staying in a luxurious apartment that took up the entire top floor of its building and offered views of Lake Michigan, the Field Museum and Shedd Aquarium, and Soldier Field. They had been in the city for six months and had not yet tired of it. When and if they did, he thought, perhaps they would try Los Angeles or New York.

The two younger vampires, both Dutch and both in the middle of their second century, were in the living room now, entertaining two women and a man. The humans had become frequent guests, happy to provide their blood to the vampires in exchange for the ecstasies that came with being bitten. Matthias wasn’t worried by this; at the end, the humans would remember little of their time with the vampires except that it had been extremely enjoyable.

He sighed, filled with the pleasurable melancholy that came with reminiscence. He no longer needed the blood in such volumes, no longer yearned for it with the passion of an insatiable lover. The centuries had left him able to subsist for weeks on but a few mouthfuls, and he rarely interacted with humans. Still, though, he could recall how it had been, the blood pouring forth in hot torrents as he drank and drank, fighting against the swoon. He envied his young fledglings the experience, even while he appreciated his freedom from the need for it.

He was reclining now on the gigantic bed in the apartment’s master bedroom, watching the television with the volume turned off and the closed captioning on, aware of but not really listening to the music from the other room. He and his fledglings had spent the early evening walking along Navy Pier, enjoying the throngs of people around them. Then there had been the bar, a curious place in a mostly commercial downtown area, specializing in martinis and playing lesbian pornography on its many screens. Matthias could remember a time, not long ago at all, when the bar would have been burnt to the ground for such things. He had found it deliciously scandalous, and his fledglings, more comfortable in the modern age, had in turn found his reaction highly amusing.

Matthias leaned back on the bed, grinning, remembering their laughter. He looked up through the skylights, where he could see a thin crescent of moon and a few bright stars. He could also see the lights of a nearby office building and a flashing red beacon he thought was meant to warn airplanes and helicopters of a radio tower. He could see something else, too – something that he did not immediately recognize. It seemed to be getting closer, however, and in a moment more Matthias realized that he was looking at a human form, plummeting down from a great height and angled directly at the glass windows above him.

He leapt from his bed as the body came through the skylight, and even as he was thinking that this must be some sort of suicide attempt, he realized that the person was not crashing to the floor in a jumble but rather landing on its feet, absorbing the impact with its knees and springing forward. He saw long, blonde hair streaming out behind it, and there was a bright flash of metal. Matthias heard a woman’s snarling cry as the figure grabbed him by the neck and threw him up the wall, pressing the tip of a blade to the soft spot below his chin.

“Move an inch and I will cut your head off,” the woman told him, and Matthias stared at her in surprised awe. He knew few people who could have performed that landing and the follow-up leap, and all of those were vampires. This woman was not a vampire, though he did not know if she was exactly human, either. She was certainly a trained professional of some sort, dressed head to toe in black combat gear.

How truly remarkable, he thought to himself, but he said nothing, afraid that if he moved, she would cut his throat and let his blood out all over the exquisite Oriental rug upon which he stood.

There were crashing noises now from the living room and a woman’s scream that was cut short by a loud thud. Someone – Matthias thought it was the human male – voiced a protest at this, but his cry was choked off. In another few moments, there was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” said the woman who was holding him against the wall, and Matthias watched with a kind of horrified curiosity as the door opened and a young, dark-skinned woman stepped in. She too was clothed in black. Rather than blades, she carried in her hand a silenced pistol, and at her side, hanging like fruit, were two hand grenades.

“We’ve got the other two bats contained, and the humans have learned to shut up and mind their manners,” the black woman said, and the blonde nodded.

“Good.”

“You want us to bring them in here?”

“No. We’ll be out in a minute. Go make sure they don’t get any stupid ideas.”

The black woman turned on her heel without another word and strode back into the living room. The blonde turned to Matthias, and he saw that her eyes were a clear and brilliant blue.

“We’re going to walk now,” she told him. “You first, me behind you. If you try to run, or attack, or do anything else that upsets me, I will ram this blade between your shoulders. It will come out just above your collarbone, it will leave you alive, and it will be excruciating – especially when I start twisting it. Are we clear on this?”

“Yes,” Matthias said, still mindful of the metal point pressed into the flesh below his chin.

“You’re an old Eresh, so you must be pretty fast. Do I need to tell you that I’m faster?”

“No.” Matthias had seen her move. He knew she was quicker than him.

“Good,” the woman said. She took the blade away from his skin and held it unsheathed at her side. “Go.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Matthias asked her.

“If you don’t start walking, yes. If you do exactly what you’re told and stop asking stupid questions, you might get through this.”

“Please,” he said. “You can kill me if you must, but please leave my children. They’ve hurt no one.”

The woman gave him a disgusted laugh and pointed toward the bedroom door. “Get moving.”

Matthias did as he was told, moving slowly and deliberately so that this woman holding him hostage would know that he intended no trickery. Matthias had never been much for fighting; that sort of thing was best left to the Ay’Araf. He was Eresh and not a warrior, though he thought he might soon be put in a place where there would be no alternative.

His fledglings were sitting on the large sofa, flanked by two black-clothed human men. Adrianus, the younger of the two vampires, looked disgusted and angry. Mikel, older by twenty years and more even-tempered, seemed to be in control of his emotions. He was looking at one of the human women. She was lying on the floor, a trickle of blood running from her nose to the carpet. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, and her bare breasts were not rising and falling. Matthias realized she was dead.

The other two humans were each being held with their hands behind their backs by another member of this strike force. Both were still fully clothed, though the man’s shirt was unbuttoned. He had a black eye and livid red marks around his neck, just below the edges of his dark hair. The one next to him, a tall woman with a large mass of tightly curled red hair pulled back into a ponytail, was weeping quietly but seemed unharmed.

The black woman was standing at the far end of the apartment, looking out at the city. She glanced over her shoulder as they came into the room, watching Matthias’s slow progression forward, and then resumed looking out the window.

“What a lovely scene,” the blonde woman commented from behind him, and Matthias could hear the sarcasm in her voice. He came to a stop in the middle of the room, and she didn’t object to this.

“Girl wouldn’t shut up,” said a tall, burly man with brown, crew-cut hair.

“So you thought you’d break her neck?” the blonde woman asked.

“I got a little overzealous, Captain,” the man admitted.

“Right. Next time, wait for my orders.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you the one in charge here? What the fuck do you want?” Adrianus demanded in his thickly accented English, and the blonde woman turned to him.

“Speak to me like that again and I’ll have them kill another one of your blood whores.”

Adrianus said nothing, merely glared at the woman. The human girl’s sobbing had redoubled at the confirmation that her friend was dead, and for a moment it was the only sound in the room.

“Please,” Matthias said. “We wish to avoid any further trouble. Tell us what it is you want from us.”

“Normally, you’d already be dead,” the blonde-haired woman told him. “But that’s not what I’m here for tonight. Instead I’m here to send a message. You’re going to deliver it for me.”

“A message to whom?” Matthias asked her.

The woman moved in front of him now, holding her blade at her side. “You’re going to tell the American Council of Vampires in New York that the day of reckoning has come.”

“I do not know anyone on the council. I am not from this country,” Matthias said.

“I don’t care,” the woman replied.

From the couch, Adrianus muttered something under his breath. The blonde woman turned to him.

“Say that again.”

“I said, ‘this is ridiculous,’” Adrianus told her. “I will not be held captive and given orders by a group of humans with delusions of grandeur.”

“Adrianus, please …” Matthias began, but his fledgling overrode him.

“You invade our home, murder our friend, hold our patron at swordpoint and threaten him … now you expect us to deliver your ridiculous message to a group of vampires we don’t even know? Go away, human. Go away before something terrible happens.”

The woman frowned at him. “It’s a bad idea to try and give me orders. I serve only one master: the Emperor of the Sun. I am an instrument of his light.”

“This is nonsense!” Adrianus snarled. He stood up, and the humans on either side drew their guns, pointing them at him. The black woman turned from the window, an odd smile on her face.

“Put your guns down,” the blonde woman told the soldiers.

“But, Captain …” one of them began, and she glared at him.

“What part of the Captain’s orders didn’t you understand, Janus?” the black girl asked from across the room. The man who had spoken glanced at her and, after a moment’s hesitation, lowered his weapon. His fellow guard, the man with the crew cut, did the same.

“Adrianus, you are making a terrible mistake,” Matthias said.

“I do not fear these humans,” Adrianus told him.

“That is the mistake,” Matthias replied, but Adrianus wasn’t listening. He was striding forward toward the blonde woman, gaining speed with each step.

“You should have let them shoot me when you had the chance!” he roared, leaping forward. The blonde woman stood still, ready, and at the last possible moment she ducked. Adrianus’s arms passed over her head and he tripped on her outstretched leg, stumbling forward.

Moving now with that same impossible speed she had shown before, the blonde woman stood and, even as Adrianus was falling, swung her sword in a downward arc. The blade chopped his head from his body and it rolled away, throwing fans of blood against the wall and coming to a stop near the bedroom door. Matthias watched as the corpse – a thing which had moments ago been his son – thudded to the ground, arms fluttering, spurting blood from its neck.

Matthias could hear himself screaming, but the sound was warped and distant, as if it was echoing down to him through a long hallway. He stood rooted to the ground, unable to move, unable to do anything but voice his horror. Mikel, too, was screaming, and he had leapt to his feet.

Matthias didn’t know whether Mikel would have attacked or not, but the blonde woman didn’t give him the opportunity. Lightning quick, still crouched, she reached to a clip at her breast and pulled from it two darts, which she flung across the room in a single motion. One hit Mikel in the chest, another in the arm, and his cries became immediately strangled. He took one step toward her and pitched forward, twisting in the air as he did so, landing on his side.

Matthias watched in horror as his fledgling’s limbs began to seize up and a great torrent of bloody foam gushed forth from his mouth. Even his eyes had begun to bleed, and he was making choked cawing noises of agony that pierced Matthias like knives.

“Have mercy on him!” Matthias cried. Begged.

The blonde woman, up on her feet now and striding toward Mikel’s shuddering, jerking form, glanced over her shoulder.

“There is only one mercy for him now,” she said, and she held the blade up over her head for a moment before driving it down and into his chest, piercing Mikel’s heart and ending his pain. She stood, cleaning the blood from the blade with a dark cloth. Both humans were sobbing now, wrestling with the men that held them but making no real headway in their attempts to escape.

“It’s a pleasure watching you work, Captain,” the black woman said, though Matthias thought he could hear distaste in her voice. The blonde favored her with a sardonic smile.

“Thank you, Vanessa.”

“Oh, God help me,” Matthias moaned. He was still rooted to his spot, standing now between the bodies of his two dead children, shaking and unable to move. The blonde woman turned to him.

“There is no God,” she said. “Even if there was, He wouldn’t want anything to do with you.”

Matthias felt a surge of rage and hatred run through him, and in that moment he almost threw himself at this woman despite her superior speed and obvious skills as a fighter. At least then it would be over; he would be dead like his children, gone to whatever afterworld awaited. He tensed and the woman tilted her head, studying him.

Then he thought of Hell, and of the punishments that might be waiting for the things he had done in his youth, newly made a vampire and intoxicated by the power and the need for blood. The desire to fight passed, replaced by a sort of hopeless anguish, and Matthias felt his body slump. He was a coward; he knew it and could see from the blonde woman’s eyes, her smile, the set of her body, that she knew it, too.

“Will you take my message to the council?” she asked him. “Or will I leave three dead vampires here tonight?”

“I will deliver your message,” Matthias told her, his voice hoarse. “I will find this council, and I will tell them what happened here, and surely they will send better men than me to hunt you down.”

The blonde woman gave him a savage grin. “Surely they will.”

“Captain, what about these two?” the black woman, Vanessa, asked. She indicated with her gun at the two human captives.

“They’re tainted. Put them down,” the blonde woman said, and at this the humans redoubled their struggles. The redheaded woman was weeping, saying ‘no, no, no,’ and shaking her head as if by such action she could negate what was happening.

Vanessa’s jaw tightened for a moment at this, but then she nodded and walked over to the two of them.

“You’re still human,” she said. “I’ll make it quick.”

“Tanya, I love y—” the human man began, and Vanessa put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. There was a small popping noise, and most of the man’s brains came jetting out from the opposite side of his head.

“Oh, Jesus GOD!” the red-haired woman screamed. Vanessa turned, placed the gun against her forehead, and blew the back of her head out. Matthias, who had not vomited in centuries, felt the urge to do so now and fought against it. The men who had been holding the two humans let their bodies drop.

“Let’s go,” the blonde woman said, putting her blade into the sheath strapped at her back.

They moved as a group toward the balcony, and Matthias watched as one by one they took hold of a rope that had been attached there and climbed over the edge. The blonde woman – the captain – was the last to go. She looked at him for a long moment, not a trace of sympathy or regret in her eyes, and then she smiled, wide and angry.

What a terrible place her mind must be, Matthias thought to himself.

And then she was gone, and he was alone with five bodies, two of which had been his children. Matthias felt his knees unhinge and sat on the floor just inches from the pool of Mikel’s blood. He covered his face with his hands – his stupid, cowardly hands – and began to weep.

Chapter 3
Time in the Ring

Whenever Stephen or Jakob had spoken of the places they went to spar, Two had pictured something dirty and dank, poorly lit, where sweating men wrestled atop a concrete floor covered in split cardboard boxes. When she and Theroen arrived at the address that Jakob had given them, she was surprised both by the size of the building and by the amount of light streaming through its few windows.

The building was made of steel frames and wooden slats. It was located in Elizabeth, New Jersey and sat in a giant lot filled with derelict machinery and massive, empty shipping containers. The guard at the gate had been expecting them and they had made their way through the hulking piles of metal, arriving at the club to find many other cars parked around it. When they got out of their own – a silver Porsche that Theroen had selected to “tide him over” until he could hunt down a replacement for his beloved Ferrari – they could hear nothing from inside the building.

“It’s not what I expected,” Theroen said, and Two laughed.

“I was just thinking the same thing. I thought it would be smaller and … grungier, I guess.”

Theroen nodded, smiled, and gestured toward the entrance. “Shall we?”

Inside, the building more resembled a modern gym than anything else. It was primarily a large, brightly lit open space. Two could see signs for locker rooms at the back. Weights and exercise machines sat on one side of the building, but the majority of the space was taken up with two boxing-style rings, around which sat perhaps three dozen vampires. Both rings were occupied; the combatants in the far ring were using swords, while those in the nearer ring were fighting hand to hand. Most of the crowd was focused on the sword fighters.

A few of the vampires turned to look as Two and Theroen entered the building, but most paid them no attention. Two saw Jakob sitting on the bleachers near the sword fighters, his fledgling Sasha perched next to him and watching the fight with single-minded interest. Jakob raised his hand, stood, and came toward them. They met halfway across the floor, and he gave Two a quick embrace before shaking Theroen’s hand.

“Welcome! Forgive the lack of hospitality from the others … this has been a particularly tight match.”

Indeed, it seemed to Two that both combatants were equally skilled. They came at each other again and again, feinting, twisting, trying to find an opening. The vampires observing them were mostly silent, with the exception of a few shouts of encouragement.

“Not a problem,” Theroen said. “Frankly, the less ceremony that accompanies my entrances and exits, the happier I am.”

Jakob grinned, nodding, and beckoned them to follow him. Two and Theroen walked with him, watching the fighters and their flashing blades. Jakob pointed to the ring with the two hand-to-hand combatants.

“Those are younger fighters,” he said. “You’ll probably draw more attention than those two just because you’re new, but don’t be offended if some in the group pay more attention to the experienced fighters.”

“That’s fine,” Two said. “Am I going to be fighting hand-to-hand or with swords?”

“Your choice. Someone will be happy to challenge you in either case. I’m quite positive you’ll be picked quickly … new meat always is.”

Two heard Theroen chuckle beside her and glanced up at him, smiling. He seemed calm and unconcerned, as always, but Two could see he was watching the swordfighters carefully.

“They don’t wear much in the way of armor,” he said as they reached the bleachers and sat down next to Sasha. The men in the ring were both wearing jeans, and they were shirtless. The only protection on their upper bodies was a band of stiff-looking leather around each man’s neck, and more on each of their wrists.

“The loser will bleed,” Sasha said without turning. “It’s part of the battle.”

Two glanced at Sasha’s left arm, which had been lopped off just above the elbow in the battle with Aros’s Burilgi forces. She was not currently wearing her prosthesis, and the stump protruded out from her T-shirt sleeve.

“Nice to see you, too, Sasha,” Two said, and the dark-haired woman looked over at her and smiled.

“Sorry, enjoying the fight. Welcome.”

“Thanks. I’m excited to give it a shot!”

“I’m curious to see you fight. Jakob says you’ve become quite good.”

“He’s probably overrating me because he’s the instructor,” Two said, and Sasha laughed.

“He’s a good instructor. I’m sure you will do well.”

“Merely good?” Jakob questioned, his voice filled with mock outrage, and Sasha gave him a cool glance.

“Maybe if Two wins a couple of fights, I’ll upgrade you,” she told him, and Jakob laughed.

The four of them let the conversation fade, paying attention to the fighters in the ring. The two men were battling in near silence, save the occasional grunt and the clang of blade on blade. Two watched their motions, studying them, trying to predict their next move.

“The taller one is tiring,” Theroen muttered into her ear, and Two thought he was right. The man, who had cropped blonde hair, was slowing down, breathing hard. The other fighter, who had shaggy brown hair and tan skin, was shorter but faster, and he seemed gifted with more stamina. He was pressing his advantage now, and the taller fighter was being forced to expend more and more energy defending.

The brown-haired vampire brought his sword down in an overhand swing, and the taller vampire grunted with the force of it as he blocked. He fell back a step, faltered, and it was all the advantage the shorter man needed. He lunged forward, passing his sword behind his back from right hand to left, and swung at his adversary’s abdomen. The taller vampire had no time to counter and the blade bit into his side. Several of the vampires in the audience burst into cheers.

“Pishka’tah!” the injured vampire roared, dropping to one knee, and it seemed to Two that the shout came more from anger than pain. The word was a sort of mild profanity in the vampire language, translating literally to “forsaken blood,” but used mostly in the way an American might say “damn it.”

“Do you yield?” the shorter vampire asked. He had pulled his sword from the wound and stood now in a ready stance.

“Aye, God’s ba’s,” the other man said in a thick Scottish accent. “Yeh wore me down, Ric.”

“You almost had me at the beginning,” Ric said. He stepped over and reached out his hand.

“Lot of good it did me,” replied the taller man, taking Ric’s hand and standing up. Blood was pouring from his side, and Two could see someone entering the ring with bandages.

“Good fight, Calum,” Ric said, clapping the blonde vampire on the shoulder and heading for his corner.

“Yer, good fight,” Calum said, and with the help of the other man he made his way out of the ring.

“Still want to do this?” Jakob asked Two.

“Yes,” Two said after a moment’s hesitation. “I think so. What the hell, right? Didn’t come all the way out here just to sit around.”

“Did you bring clothes?”

“Yep. I’ll go change. Hon? Theroen? Will you be all right here?”

“I’ll be fine,” Theroen said, giving her his calm smile. “Go do what you need to do.”

Two glanced at the ring, where several towels had been tossed to mop up the blood. They were stained crimson. She took a deep breath and headed for the locker room.

* * *

Two’s name had been on the list for less than four minutes before someone challenged her, and when next the beginner’s ring was cleared, she found herself standing in front of an Ay’Araf vampire she had never met. She was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a tank top, and she held her sword in her hand as Jakob strapped leather cuffs around her wrists and neck.

“These give some protection to the bigger veins,” he explained, and Two nodded.

“I figured.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes, but I keep telling myself it can’t be any worse than that time you almost cut off my boob.”

“I told you that was an accident,” Jakob said, laughing slightly.

“Didn’t make it hurt any less!”

“Indeed.”

“Mostly I just want to do well. I don’t want to fuck up your reputation, or mine.”

“You won’t. Just do as you’ve been taught.”

“That’s the plan,” Two said.

The vampire across from her had introduced himself as Mike Takahashi. A third-generation Japanese American, he looked to be in his twenties, but was actually closer to forty. He had come to training late for an Ay’Araf but had been studying sword fighting for nearly five years.

Mike was not tall, but Jakob had warned her that he had surprising reach for his height and was extremely agile. He would try to get her off balance by using a lot of feints and switching hands frequently.

“You’re stronger than him,” Jakob said, murmuring close to her ear. “Likely faster, too. Your instincts are better. That should make up for the difference in training. Don’t bite on the fakes and wait until you have the right opening, then get him on his heels like Ricardo did to Calum.”

“Yessir,” Two said.

“Don’t forget to keep your guard up, and remember that there’s nothing wrong with backing away or—”

“Jakob, I got it,” Two said, cutting him off. She smiled at him, thumped her left fist against her chest twice – an Ay’Araf salute – and made a shooing gesture. “Go sit down.”

Jakob bit off whatever he had been about to say, nodded, and made his way toward the edge of the ring.

“That dude is brutal,” Mike commented. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him lose. I bet you’re good.”

Two shrugged. If he was probing her for information, he wasn’t going to get any. “You ready?” she asked.

“Let’s do it.”

Mike gave her a quick salute with his sword and fell into a defensive stance. Two did the same. She heard the crowd around the ring go quiet. Jakob had been right: her match was drawing a lot more interest than the other juvenile fighters had. She hoped she could give them all a good show.

“Tenor Ay’Araf!” Mike shouted, and he sprang forward, going for an immediate and obvious slashing attempt at her right arm. Two parried it easily, sidestepping, staying on the balls of her feet. She brought her sword around in a wide arc, aiming for his back, but Mike jerked out of the way. He feinted left and, despite Jakob’s earlier warning, Two bit on it, moving her sword to parry a blow that wasn’t coming. Mike switch his sword from one hand to the other in a single, fluid motion and swung backhand at her unprotected right side.

“Shit!” Two cried, springing backward and twisting her body, avoiding the blow by less than an inch. Mike grinned.

“Almost!” he said.

“No rewards for ‘almost,’” Two replied.

She circled him, blade held out, waiting. Mike gathered himself and stepped back toward her. He tried the left feint again, but this time Two was ready for it and held her blade steady. She parried again, spun, and faked a forward lunge. Mike brought his blade crashing down in front of him, but Two came instead from the side. Off balance, he was still able to switch his blade from hand to hand again and stop her attack. They separated for a moment.

“Don’t press,” Jakob called from the stands. Two ignored him. She knew what to do; the hard part was managing to avoid being carved up while she waited for an opportunity.

For the next five minutes, the fight went back and forth in a series of unspectacular but technically solid exchanges. Two advanced, Mike parried and returned. Mike went on the attack and Two defended, the blades clanging against each other. She felt warm and loose now, breathing easy, comfortable in her body. Stephen had left her with a “maintenance” training regimen intended to keep her at her peak physical form – Two rarely strayed from it, working out for an hour every evening when she woke up.

She had not identified any flaws in Mike’s form, though she was sure Jakob could have given her a laundry list of them. Instead, she thought she had found a problem with his approach; he was almost too textbook. It was a sort of dance: she stepped here, he stepped there, and she had to make the next step. If she could find a way to break that up, to step somewhere she shouldn’t be or swing her sword in a direction that wasn’t expected, she thought she might be able to get him off balance.

Mike wasn’t giving her a lot opportunity to plan, constantly moving forward into her space. His strategy at this point was plain: be the aggressor, make her expend all of her effort on defense, keep her off balance. He seemed comfortable, and comfort was not something she wanted him to be feeling.

She parried another of his blows and sprung sideways, swinging her left arm outward. Using the leather band on her wrist, she hit Mike’s blade directly, knocking it aside. For the first time in the battle, he looked surprised by her actions, and it was only with a desperate and lucky effort that he was able to parry her next blow. Undaunted, Two refused to let Mike regain his footing. She slid her blade down the length of his sword, aiming at his hands, forcing him to let go of the hilt with his left and pull the blade away, leaping backward.

Now was the time to press. Two advanced on him with all the formidable speed that Theroen’s blood had given her, blade flashing as she swung back and forth, clashing with Mike’s desperate attempts to parry. There wasn’t much room left; in a moment more she would have him on the ropes, impeding his ability to move his arms. Mike glanced quickly over his shoulder, realized this, and attempted to circle to the left. Two lunged in that direction, cutting him off. She could hear people shouting behind her, but she didn’t care what they were saying. The fight would be won or lost here, and if she was making a mistake, then so be it.

Mike executed a pretty spin away from her blade and swung his own outward toward Two’s exposed right flank. A slower vampire would have been hit, and even for Two it was close, but at the last moment she pulled her knee all the way up to her stomach and the sword passed by her flesh and hit the canvas. Two brought her own blade back up in a backhand slash, and to save his neck Mike had no choice but to pull his shoulder up and take the hit. Two’s blade cut into his upper bicep and he shouted in pain. Two took the opportunity to shove him hard in the direction he was already leaning, and, as she had hoped, Mike went crashing to the floor. Two pressed the point of her blade against his chest.

“Yield?” she asked. Mike glared up at her, clearly pissed off but also impressed.

“You doing anything later?” he asked.

“Hanging out with my boyfriend,” Two told him.

“Yeah, that’s my luck. I yield.”

He let go of his sword, holding his open hands up, and Two took the point of her weapon away. She reached out, took his left hand in hers, and helped him to his feet. Behind her, she could hear people approaching.

“Good fight,” she said, and Mike nodded.

“Yeah. You’re really fast.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“I’m gonna want a rematch next time. Still pretty sure I can beat you.”

Two grinned, stepping aside as Mike’s patron arrived to tend to his wound.

“I look forward to proving you wrong.”

* * *

“Other than completely ignoring my advice, I thought you did very well,” Jakob said. They were sitting on the bleachers again. Two was freshly showered and back in her street clothes. She laughed.

“I didn’t ignore it … I just didn’t think I was going to beat him with technique. He had a counter for every move I made!”

“Yes, but he executed several of them poorly. We’ll have to teach you to look for that.”

“I know I have a lot to learn, Jakob. I’m not giving up on my lessons just because I won a rookie fight.”

Jakob nodded. He glanced at Theroen, who was sitting on Two’s other side, half listening to them and half watching the fight.

“What did you think?” Jakob asked him, and Theroen turned to give them his full attention.

“Yeah, did I look OK up there?” Two asked.

Theroen considered this for a moment and then smiled. “I enjoyed the part where you retained all of your blood.”

“Me too!”

“I was proud of you,” Theroen continued. “Proud because you are talented, but also because of the efforts you have made. When I first encountered you, you were spending most of your energy and willpower just keeping yourself from being swallowed by despair. As I watched, I saw in you the person you could be if you could harness your strength. You are doing so now, and it is … well, quite nerve wracking at times, but also very enjoyable.”

Two felt herself blushing, unaccustomed to such naked praise. “I guess. I mean … it’s just some sword fighting.”

Jakob spoke up. “Sword fighting and karate, and intense physical training that most people would have given up after a week, and dealing with Stephen and then me for more than three years, and keeping yourself in peak shape, and—”

“All right, I get it!” Two exclaimed. “I’m awesome. Message received. Thanks, you guys.”

“You’ve become the person you were supposed to be,” Theroen said.

“Long as you still like that person,” Two replied.

“Very much.”

Two glanced at Jakob. “You should totally look away now so we can make out.”

“This is possibly the least appropriate place in the world for that activity,” Jakob replied, his voice dry, and Two grinned.

“Oh, fine. Hey, what happened to Sasha? Did she leave?”

“No, she watched and told me to congratulate you. She’s in the locker room now, changing.”

“She still fights?”

Jakob shrugged. “She’s right-handed. Certainly she’s lost a few maneuvers by not being able to switch hands, but then again, she no longer has to worry about protecting her left arm, either.”

Two shook her head in admiration. “If I only had one hand, I’d be like ‘no thanks, I’m going to learn to crochet.’”

“Crotchet requires two hands,” Jakob said in an odd, gentle voice. For a moment there was silence, and then Two burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hands.

“That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever said!”

“Oh, if only …” Theroen murmured, and Two whirled on him, still laughing.

“What did you just say?!”

“It must have been the wind,” Theroen replied, and Two punched him in the shoulder. Jakob was watching them, smiling.

“Sasha has been fighting for more than a century. It’s what she likes to do. She’d probably find a way to keep doing it even if she lost both arms. Besides, the speed at which prosthetics are advancing is truly remarkable. She may well be back to dual-handed fighting before long.”

Two nodded. Sasha’s prosthetic arm, which she wore most of the time, was a far cry from a piece of wood with a hook at the end. A myoelectric device, it contained a core made of steel rods and cables, and was covered by layers of carbon fiber and silicone. The fingers on the hand were individually jointed, and Sasha could bend the arm at the elbow, close the fingers into a fist, and perform other actions by flexing different muscles in her upper arm. It was not quite a sci-fi bionic limb, but it wasn’t so far away, either.

“Can we stay and watch her, Theroen?” Two asked.

“We can stay as long as you would like,” he replied.

“She’s very good,” Jakob said. “After the injury there was a string of challengers who had no business stepping into the ring with her. I suppose they thought that the loss of the arm would give them an edge. They were quite wrong.’

“Cool. You must be proud of her.”

“Sasha has always made me proud,” Jakob said. “We have few women here, and yet she has integrated herself so well that few of our members even think about her gender anymore.”

There were four women there that night, including Two. The Ay’Araf were largely male, in part because so many of them placed such emphasis on physical combat and competition. Just as in human sports, male physiology presented more inherent advantages. Less acknowledged was a sort of quiet discrimination: most Ay’Araf vampires never even considered women as fledglings.

Jakob had made Sasha his fledgling only after living with her for several years, becoming more and more certain that the hardships she had suffered had forged within her an indomitable will and work ethic. Like Two, she had endured a brutal training regimen and come out on the other side even more determined to be a fighter. When he had seen this, Jakob had given her the blood, and Two knew he had never regretted doing so.

Often cold and direct, Sasha sometimes seemed to Two more like a machine than a person. Two wouldn’t have believed the woman capable of empathy if not for Sasha’s relationship with Two’s friend Molly Thompson. Molly had ended up in Sasha’s care when a group of Burilgi vampires had kidnapped both Jakob and Molly’s adoptive parents, Rhes and Sarah. Over the course of that time, Sasha and Molly had become close friends.

Sasha still kept in touch with the girl, who was now almost seventeen, mostly via email but occasionally in person. Several times in the past two and a half years, Molly had been in serious danger of relapsing into her heroin addiction. Like any sixteen-year-old girl, she was undergoing extensive changes not only in her outer life, but in her body chemistry as well. Unlike most sixteen-year-old girls, she had also been subject to a great deal of neglect and abuse, falling into prostitution and drugs before her twelfth birthday. Her life had been stable since coming to live with Rhes and Sarah, and she loved them fiercely, but she still sometimes experienced periods of depression, anger, and self-loathing. Finding solace in the needle was a constant temptation.

Molly hated talking about her past with her parents. She didn’t want them even to think about it. So instead she turned to Sasha, and had spent many late nights at the vampire’s apartment talking, and crying, and explaining to Sasha in exacting detail how her body seemed to be screaming out for the drug. Sasha had never once turned the girl away, cancelling or rescheduling anything and everything else on her agenda at a moment’s notice to be there for her friend. On one occasion, Sasha had even dragged herself out during the day and into bright sunlight to meet with Molly, an experience she had later compared to being doused with acid.

Two cared for Molly and wanted to be there for her, but Molly found it impossible to view Two as normal in light of their shared experiences. Two understood; she had shot up with Molly, gone through withdrawal sickness with Molly, done more than one group job with Molly. For better or for worse, Molly would always see Two as a fellow junkie. Sasha, a two-hundred-year-old Russian vampire with one arm, was the “normal” one.

Two laughed a little at this latter thought, and Theroen turned to her, raising a questioning eyebrow. Two shook her head, smiling, and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just thinking.”

Looking mildly perplexed, Theroen said nothing. Two, content to keep her thoughts to herself, took his hand in hers and turned her attention to the fights.

Chapter 4
Warning

“Welcome again, all of you,” William Alban said to the assembled vampires before him, and then paused for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully. At last he continued.

“I have led this council now for some time, during which we have enjoyed a period of relative calm, quiet, and peace. It seems now that this peace, always fragile and under threat, has been shattered. We face a danger greater perhaps than any we have known since the Middle Ages, when humans hunted our kind and destroyed them in great numbers.”

The American council of vampires was composed of twenty members and held representatives from all five strains. There were ten Ay’Araf along with two Burilgi, two Eresh, and four Ashayt. Two and Theroen, the only members of their new vampire race, made up the last tenth.

“We have a guest in attendance this evening,” William said. “While I would welcome his presence at any time, I wish truly that he did not have to be here tonight. Mister Matthias Vanden is a visitor to our country, and it has treated him in a manner that is unspeakable. I have asked him to come before you all and tell his story. I would have you hear this firsthand account of the threat we face. Matthias, please …”

They had all noticed the vampire sitting in the shadows away from the main ring of chairs, and had wondered why he had not partaken in the mingling over wine and blood that preceded each council meeting. Now they understood: this man had borne witness to something terrible and was in no mood to exchange pleasantries.

He stood, a man who might have been twenty-five and yet moved like someone much older, as if weighed down by a great load. Matthias would have told them, had he been asked, that it was only within the last week that he had come to move in this manner. He felt as if he had aged all six of the centuries through which he had survived in the seven days since his children’s deaths.

Matthias took the stage to polite applause. He looked out over the assembled members of the American council and spoke in his heavily accented English.

“I will tell you my tale. At the end of it, I will give you the message that I have been ordered to deliver. I will save it until the end in the hope that you will understand at what terrible cost it comes.”

Matthias took a deep breath, closed his eyes, collected himself, and began.

“Seven days ago, both of my fledglings were murdered before my eyes by a human woman,” he began. The story came out of him in fits and starts, and several times he paused to hold back tears.

Matthias didn’t know if his tale had any effect on the assembled vampires or not. He didn’t care. He had been tasked with delivering a message, and so he would because he had understood in the blonde woman’s parting stare one simple fact: if he failed in this duty, she would hunt him to the ends of the Earth in retribution. She would hunt him until she found him, and when she did, she would take her time killing him.

“She gave me a message,” he told them, this silent group of vampires who would be tasked with responding to what the blonde woman had said. “She told me to inform the council that the day of reckoning is at hand.”

Matthias paused now, looking out over the members of the council. At last he spoke again.

“I can tell you no more. They left, and I do not know where they went. I know only that they chose me as their messenger, and that they wrote their words in the blood of my sons and of three innocent humans.”

He sighed again and shook his head, wishing that he had the words to tell them how it had been, how she had been.

“God help me. God help us all.”

He stepped away from the podium. There was no applause this time, only a deafening silence as the assembled vampires tried to digest the story he had told. Matthias sat back down on his pew in the dark, put his face in his hands, and tried not to weep. He heard William step back to the podium and clear his throat.

“I do not think, my friends, that I need to tell you what this means,” he said, and there was a murmur from the audience.

“It was Tori,” someone said, and Matthias looked up at this. The council’s attention seemed focused on a petite girl with short, messy blonde hair.

“Yes, Two,” William said. “It does seem that way.”

Matthias stood up, peering at the speaker. “This woman … you know her?”

The girl who William had called Two nodded. “Yes, I think so. Her name is Tori Perrault, and she used to be a vampire. I saved her life, I guess, and she saved mine. I left her in Ohio where I thought she’d be safe, but the Children of the Sun found her. I don’t know what they did, or how they did it, but they changed her. They made her hate us. I wouldn’t have left her, if I’d known, I … I’m so sorry.”

Matthias closed his eyes, sat back down in his chair, and put his hands back against his face.

* * *

“Thomas is gone,” Naomi said, and Two glanced up at her in surprise. These were the first words Naomi had spoken to her since the kiss nearly four weeks ago, and they were not what Two had been expecting when she saw Naomi approach.

“Wha—why? I mean … where did he go?” Two asked, and Naomi shrugged.

“I assume he was called back.”

“Are you sure? Maybe he took a vacation or something?”

“The new bartender said he put in his two weeks’ notice and left, never telling anyone where he was going. The staff thought a competitor had lured him away, but that’s absurd. He would have told me if he was going somewhere else.”

“Yeah.” Two sipped at her glass, filled with warm blood kept thin with anticoagulants, and pondered this news. “Anyway, it would make no sense for him to go to another bar. There’s no better place to watch you than where he was.”

“Of course.”

“Well … shit,” Two said. “I kind of hoped that when it all went down, he might decide he liked being a bartender.”

“As did I. It seems, though, that he remains loyal to his masters.”

Two thought she could hear a slight ache in Naomi’s voice, a sadness that hadn’t been there before, but it was hard to say; there was already so much grief in Naomi’s voice these days that the addition of another layer made little difference.

“Are you OK?” she asked, and Naomi smiled a little.

“I’d like you to stop asking me that.”

“I’m your friend, and I’m not going to stop giving a shit about you.”

“I know. Two, I … please, I’m only asking that you do me the favor of pretending that it’s not so obvious.”

Two bit her lip, considered, and nodded. “Well … that sucks. It sucks that he’s gone. He didn’t even say goodbye!”

“I doubt he wanted to tip us off,” Naomi replied.

“No, I guess not. This is bad, Naomi, all this stuff with Tori … I feel so fucking awful for that Matthias guy.”

“I do, too. The council made a terrible mistake. We knew where Tori was, and we did nothing about it. When her parents were killed, still we opted to wait and see. Well … now we’ve seen. The Children have taken her and turned her into their weapon against us, and this time it will not simply be a few Burilgi that disappear.”

“They’re coming right at us,” Two said. “Not only that, but they’re so confident that they’re telling us ahead of time. They want us to be ready because it will be more fun for her that way.”

“If she’s this dangerous, it may not matter whether we’re ready or not.”

Theroen had wandered up next to Two as they were talking, and he spoke up now. “Tori was ruthless as a vampire. Efficient. Built for killing. If the Children have added training and discipline to her speed, strength, and ferocity, she is going to be dangerous even to the oldest and strongest vampires.”

Two made a noise of frustration. “We have to find her and talk her out of this. It’s crazy. She’s killing people!”

“She has been killing people since three hours after Abraham turned her,” Theroen said.

“This is different. She’s not some animal anymore, Theroen. I was with her. She can talk, and think, and … she’s just not like that anymore.”

Theroen shrugged. “Perhaps she has merely learned to control that side of herself, rather than doing away with it entirely.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Naomi said. “She’s threatening us, and we need to prepare. It sounds like this other woman, Vanessa, is nothing to be trifled with either. I’m sure the same can be said for the rest of them.”

Two put a hand to her face, closing her eyes and rubbing them for a minute. “Yeah, well, just don’t expect me to start shooting at her without at least trying to talk.”

“You know I would prefer to settle this with diplomacy,” Naomi said. “We have reached out to the Children in the past, tried to begin a dialog with them. Most of our attempts went unanswered, and on more than one occasion in the past few decades they killed the messenger and immediately removed the agent we had been trying to reach.”

“Awesome,” Two said. “And that’s why we know basically nothing about them.”

“We know more than we used to, but still not much,” Naomi admitted.

“Did you guys even have any idea that Matthias was in Chicago?” Two asked, and Naomi shook her head.

“No, and we don’t know how the Children found out, either, nor why they picked a trio of Dutch tourists to start with.”

“Perhaps they wanted to dissuade further vampires from coming to the United States,” Theroen said.

“It’s likely,” Naomi replied.

“Well, mission fucking accomplished,” Two said. “If I lived anywhere else, I’d be sticking there for now.”

Naomi nodded. “Yes, I don’t think we’ll be entertaining many guests once the word gets out.”

“I can’t believe Tori’s doing this,” Two said. “If the only vampire she’d ever known was Abraham then maybe I could see it … but she knows we’re not all like that.”

“We don’t know what the Children have done to convince her,” Theroen said.

“We don’t know anything,” Two said. “It’s been two and a half years, and we don’t know anything. This sucks!”

“I was speaking with Jakob a few minutes ago,” Theroen said. “He assured me that he is going to double the number of men working on this. Lewis and Richard are terrified that the Children are going to attack the Burilgi again, and without any real base of power in that community, they won’t be able to come together for self-defense.”

“If they would just embrace the council, we could help them,” Naomi muttered.

“We have treated them very poorly for centuries,” Theroen said. “Not just this council, but the entire vampire world. It will take them some time, I think, to embrace us.”

Naomi sighed. “I know, Theroen.”

“You have seemed tense lately, Naomi. Are you unwell?” Theroen asked. Two gave a slight shake of her head, but Naomi opted to answer the question.

“I’m fine, though I could use a drink,” she said. “I think I’ll take my leave.”

“Going to L’Obscurité?” Theroen asked, and Naomi gave him a grim smile.

“No,” she said. “Not tonight. I think it may be time to find a new bar.”

* * *

“We are coming toward a dangerous time,” Theroen said, and Two glanced over at him, trying to identify the tone she was hearing in is voice.

“Story of my life,” she said. “At least we had a couple of years to relax.”

Theroen did not immediately respond to this, and Two let the conversation drop. They were walking down Seventh Avenue, returning from the cathedral on 53rd Street where the American council met. It was a long walk, but Two didn’t mind; neither she nor Theroen would have any trouble with the exertion. It was early June and the nights had grown warm, but Two found she barely noticed the weather anymore. Her internal temperature was much more affected by how recently she had fed than by any exterior conditions.

They had just passed 22nd Street when Theroen spoke again. “If I thought there was even the slightest possibility you would acquiesce, I would strongly consider asking you to come with me to Europe.”

So that’s what I was hearing, Two thought. Out loud, she said, “No … not a chance. Sorry.”

“We are too enmeshed in the council at this point.”

“Yeah, but that’s not why. It’s Tori, Theroen. We can’t just turn our backs on her. It’s my fault that this is happening.”

“I don’t agree with that.”

“I know, but—”

“When you left Tori, she was safe at home with her parents and happy to be there. You had no way of knowing that she was in any danger, let alone that a deranged cult of vampire killers were going to find her, kidnap her, and brainwash her.”

“No, but I knew – both of us knew – that there might come a time when someone tracked one of us down. We thought it would be someone who was pissed about what we did to Abraham, but it doesn’t really matter. We knew someone might come. I knew it, and I left her alone anyway because I was desperate to get back to New York and start looking for vampires.”

They crossed 16th Street, moving effortlessly through the crowd, a pair of sharks among schools of fish. Theroen looked up at the moon.

“I understand,” he said. “I don’t agree, but … nonetheless, the council had ample opportunity to shield her from this, and they chose not to act. They sat by and did nothing even after her parents were murdered. They could have contacted her, explained that they were not dangerous, offered protection. Instead they voted to sit and wait. Now they are reaping what they’ve sown.”

“So you think they deserve this? When Tori comes to kill Naomi or Jakob, you’re just going to sit back and watch?”

“No, of course n—”

“What about that guy Matthias? What did he do to deserve this?”

“It is because of Matthias that I would take you away if you would let me. I have no desire to watch Tori decapitate you.”

Two made a noise of derision. “There is no way she would do something like that to me.”

“You do not know what she has become. None of us do. Matthias spoke of a ruthless soldier who did not hesitate for a moment to kill two Eresh vampires and order the murder of two human beings.”

“I was there … I heard the story. She’s confused and angry, maybe, and they’ve convinced her to direct that anger at us, but I don’t believe that she would kill me. I’m probably the best shot she has at staying alive now. Who else is going to argue for her against the council?”

“I doubt she cares,” Theroen said, and Two came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the sidewalk, earning a disapproving squawk from a woman who had been walking behind her. She ignored this and turned to Theroen, who had stopped as well and was regarding her with calm curiosity.

“I don’t give a shit if she cares or not,” Two said. “I care about her, and there’s no way you’re convincing me to just … fuck off to Europe while she’s running around with the Children, OK?”

“Very well, Two—”

“If we leave and the council catches her, they’re going to put her down like some kind of rabid dog. She’s not a dog. She never was, and she deserves better than that. After everything she’s been through she sure as fuck deserves better, and I’m going to make sure she gets the chance. I’m not abandoning her again. I’m not leaving!”

“I was not asking you to leave.”

“Yes, you were. You were doing it in a roundabout way, testing the waters, but that’s exactly what you were doing. I know you’ve got about four hundred years on me, but I’m not a kid. Don’t treat me like one.”

Theroen paused for a moment, looking taken aback. Then he smiled, chuckled, and shook his head.

“What?” Two asked.

“Caught red handed. You’re correct, and I am sorry, Two.”

“It’s OK. I understand you’re worried. Sorry for yelling.”

They began to walk again, heading toward their home in SoHo. After a few blocks, Two spoke again.

“No more, though, all right? We had to have this fight, and now it’s done. No more talk about going to Europe. We’re staying here, and we’re going to find Tori, and we’re going to talk her out of this shit. If the council tries to kill her, then we’re going to fight for her. That’s how it’s going to be. OK?”

Theroen sighed, took her hand, and nodded. “Yes, Two.”

Two looked up at him, saw that his eyes were dark and far away, and frowned. “Do you still love me?”

“Very much.”

“Even when I’m a pain in the ass?”

Theroen smiled at this, and he seemed to return somewhat from wherever it was that he had gone. He looked down at her, met her gaze, and smiled.

“You’re always a pain in the ass.”

* * *

Two lay on her belly against her soft sheets, warm and relaxed, head turned to the side and resting on her crossed arms, eyes closed. Theroen lay above her, atop her, carrying half of his weight on his elbows, the rest of it pressing down on her. He was biting gently at her neck, teasing with his teeth, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. She could feel the hard part of him pressing between her legs, seeking entry, and she smiled.

“Slow,” she said, and Theroen made a noise of acquiescence. She felt his lips tug at her earlobe, and when he pressed again she shifted, opened her legs just slightly, and felt him enter her. She made a low noise of enjoyment as he put a hand in her hair, gripping tight, and began to thrust. Slow, like she had asked.

Of the many ways that she and Theroen made love, Two thought that this might be her favorite. Lying on her stomach, the sex soft, the weight of him making her feel protected and secure. Two felt the skin of Theroen’s chest moving against her back, the warmth of his breath at her ear. He snaked his free left hand around and underneath her, cupping her mons and holding her against him as he pushed into her, deliberately gradual. His right hand remained tangled in her hair.

Two pushed up with her knees, bracing against the bed, gasping, the soft fabric now twisted tight in her hands. It felt as if there was nothing left in the world but her, and Theroen, and this thing they were building together inside of her. At some point she became aware of her own gasps, her voice bent and twisted so that it seemed almost to come from someone else, begging for release from the excruciating pleasure.

Theroen was losing himself in her, no longer moving slowly. He pulled her hair, pressed against her clitoris, and Two felt her body clench. She took in air to cry out, but before she could, she felt Theroen strain against her. He made a snarling, groaning noise and bit her as her climax rolled through her, the force of it locking her limbs tight, freezing the breath in her throat.

Just as it became too much, more than she could possibly bear, the feeling began to subside. Her lungs began to work again, and Two let that trapped air out in a long sigh. Theroen drank for some time more. Two lay with her head on her arms, breathing, enjoying the waves of pleasure that accompanied the gentle draining sensation.

What if she tries to take him from me? she thought.

She knew the answer, of course – knew it in the very depths of her soul. If that happened, she would kill Tori and anyone else who stood between her and this man she loved. If it became necessary, Two would burn the whole world and everyone in it to keep from losing him again.

They lay like that, still pressed against each other and joined at the hips, not speaking. Theroen’s fingers moved gently in her hair, and he brought his other hand up away from her waist. Two took it in hers and held it against herself. Lying like that, together, they slept.

Part II

Chapter 5
Amun Sa and the Girl from the Desert

The girl knelt over the grinding wheel, preparing the flour that would become the morning’s bread, and stared out over the vast floodplain that lay between her and the great river to the east. Her hands moved unconsciously, trained by years of repetition, and this allowed her mind to wander free. She contemplated the ecstasies of the previous evening and those that might come that night. The sun had not yet come up over the hills beyond the river and already she was anxious for it to set.

She was not from this place, though she had lived here now for more than ten years, ever since Nubian warriors from the south had come to her tribe to loot and rape and murder. If there had been any other survivors they had been scattered to the winds, and so she had begun the journey north alone. A girl of only nine years, she had by guile and luck and effort survived where most others would have perished, avoiding the teeth and claws of beasts, the swords of man, and the shackles of the slave caravans. She had left her home in the desert and traveled along the great river until she came to the outskirts of the capital city Ineb-Hedg, the seat of power where Kings had dwelt for centuries.

She arrived there with only the name her mother had given her, Ashayt, and the skills needed to make the firm, brown bread that everyone ate with every meal and fermented to make their beer. She was of a proud people and the hardships she had so far borne had not stripped her of this pride, and so she refused to join the legions of beggars that could be found throughout the city. She instead went door to door, first inside the city’s walls and then out of them, until at last she found a family who could make use of her skills and would agree to take her in.

A childless couple with a meager few acres of land and only a handful of slaves, her benefactors would never be wealthy, but they were free and owed nothing to any man. They traded their grain and, soon, her bread at the markets, and while Ashayt knew they would never be able to provide her with a suitable dowry for marriage, she was nonetheless happy to become something like their daughter. She was from the desert, marked by her dark skin and many tattoos, and no man from this civilized world would want her anyway. Or so, at least, she had thought.

The flour milled, Ashayt set out to mix it with water in several large clay bowls. After this, she would leave the mixture in the fresh air for a time, so that the spirits would bless it and allow it to finish its transformation into dough. She would build up the fire under their stone oven and, when it was good and hot, she would take the dough, and knead it, and form it into loaves. This she did every morning, and when the bread had cooked and cooled, she would put aside loaves for her family and for the slaves, and put the rest into her basket, and take the bread to market.

Ashayt could hear the slaves calling to each other in the fields and knew that soon the rest of her family would arise. They would wonder why she had been so anxious to go walking after dinner and why she had again been out so late. She smiled to herself, thinking of how thin her excuses were wearing. Did her foster mother suspect why it was that Ashayt was away so long and so late at night? Had she noticed the change in Ashayt’s mood, the constant smiling, the humming of gentle tunes? Ashayt thought the woman did indeed suspect but had yet kept her peace about it.

Her foster father, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious. He was a good man and he loved her in his fashion, but he cared mostly for the fields and the crops. The droughts of the past few years had brought these worries to the fore. They consumed his every waking moment, and Ashayt thought it likely that they occupied a good deal of his sleep as well. She pitied him. Most of what they could grow in this climate with their small amount of manpower was used immediately. There was little to trade. Ashayt often wished she could make the rains come, make the great river return to its annual floods and bring life back to this normally fertile valley, but such a thing was beyond her power, and so she did what she could with what grain they had.

There had been some rain, though, during this otherwise parched summer. There had been rain the first night she had lain with him, in that little fisherman’s shack atop a bed of woven reeds, when he had shown her what it meant to be a woman and to be with a man. After, lying in his arms, she had listened to the rain falling on the thatched roof, listened to the countless peeping frogs at the river’s edge, and thought to herself that there could be no better thing in the entire world.

Smiling still, thinking of the things that had been and the things that yet would be, Ashayt set her bowls of dough out to rise and went to stoke the fire.

* * *

She had first encountered the man whose face and body and hands would come to occupy her every waking thought in a small alley outside of the city’s market square. He had been chasing a pickpocket and was unable to stop in time when Ashayt stepped out from behind a wall, carrying her basket of bread and daydreaming. The thief had narrowly avoided her, and the man chasing him had shouted in surprise and warning, but too late. He collided with the dark-skinned girl, knocking her to the ground and scattering her bread around the alley.

After taking a moment to ascertain that she was not badly hurt, Ashayt opened her eyes and saw standing above her a beautiful man, young and well built, with sun-bronzed skin the color of the sunset on a field of wheat and eyes like deep, dark pools. He was wearing an obviously expensive wig of human hair, the locks of which reached to his shoulders and were decorated with many beads. Her breath caught in her lungs, and for a moment she was unable to do anything more than stare at him.

“You should have been more careful,” the man told her, and he extended his hand to help her up. “Now you’ve lost your bread, and I’ve lost my thief so I won’t be able to pay you for it.”

He smiled at her, and for Ashayt that was the end. All of her life before that moment seemed as if it belonged to someone else, some other girl. Now she was someone new, a woman whose only desire was to possess this man standing above her, and to be possessed by him. She reached out and took his outstretched hand, let him help her to her feet, stood staring at him.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, and Ashayt shook her head. No, she was not hurt. She was as far from hurt, it seemed, as it was possible to be. Every part of her body seemed to be singing in excitement and joy and desire.

The man took her basket from the ground and, squatting, began to collect those loaves of bread that seemed like they might be salvaged. After a moment, Ashayt joined him. This alley was little used, and that was a good thing. Some of the bread was broken and a few loaves more had landed in a puddle of what she thought was camel urine, but most were merely dusty and could still be sold.

“Can you speak?” he asked after a time, and she nodded but no words seemed to come to her lips, and so she continued to collect bread in silence. The man stopped and watched her, amused.

“Do you speak?”

Ashayt made an effort to find her voice and managed a single word. “Yes.”

“You are not from here.”

“No.”

“What is your name? Where are you from?”

“I am called Ashayt. I come from the south. From the deserts outside of Tjenu.”

“Well, I cannot say it is good to meet you, my lady Ashayt, for it has cost me a sack of turquoise worth fifty deben, but neither can I say I am entirely unhappy with this event. I am called Amun Sa, son of Hêtshepsu, son of Nifé-en-Ankh. I am third-cousin by marriage to King Pepi, Lord of all the Earth and descendant of Ptah the Maker, may he rule forever.”

Ashayt, confronted so suddenly with the knowledge that the man who stood before her was nobility, of a social standing so far above her own that it was inconceivable that he was even speaking with her, found herself again at a loss for words. She went immediately to her knees, bowing before him and putting her forehead to the sand. When at last she was able to speak, she began pouring forth a litany of apology, begging for forgiveness for her running into him.

“Please, girl … Ashayt, stop. Enough. I beg you, I … Ptah have mercy upon me, in the name of the King, I command you to stop!”

This last was delivered in such a tone that Ashayt understood she was not to argue – she was only to obey. It was a tone that only a man of royal upbringing would have even known how to use, and she followed his command instinctively. She stopped apologizing, snapping her mouth shut, but continued to lie prostrate before him.

“Well, that’s a start. Now, please, stand up. I see more of this already each day than I care to.”

Ashayt did as he told her, keeping her gaze low, unable to meet his eyes.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Amun Sa asked her, and, after a moment, he spoke again in that tone of command. “Answer me.”

“It is not right, my Lord,” Ashayt answered. “I should not … I must not even speak to you. I do so now only because you command it.”

“Why do you feel this way?”

“You are cousin to the King!”

“Third-cousin. By marriage. My father’s wife’s great-grandfather was the tenth son of the great King Teti of Seheteptawy, borne by his third wife, the Queen Khuit. I am just a scribe, and not a King.”

“Yet you are of noble blood, my Lord, and I am nothing, a peasant girl from the desert and a baker of bread. I have cost you your jewels, and their worth is more than I could ever hope to pay back. Oh, please forgive my clumsiness and allow me to rid you of my presence.”

Amun Sa studied her for some time, long enough that at last Ashayt was forced to look up and meet his eyes, if only for a moment, to confirm that he was still there. When she did this, she felt again that thrill of desire running like a bright streak through her, and a shiver went down the entire length of her spine. She quickly glanced back to the ground. At last Amun Sa spoke.

“I offer forgiveness for your clumsiness gladly, for truly I think the fault belongs to that damned pickpocket. As for ridding me of your presence, that I cannot allow. I find your presence pleasant.”

Ashayt felt her cheeks warming, but she said nothing.

“May I accompany you to the market, Ashayt-from-the-desert?”

“If it would please you, my Lord,” Ashayt said.

“Then let us be on our way, for it would please me very much.”

Amun Sa bent, and picked up her basket, and started forth. Ashayt, confused and startled both by this stranger’s actions and by the overwhelming desire within her that she could not seem to force down, stared for a moment in surprise. Then, with no other options immediately available to her and no reason to search for any, she followed him.

* * *

They became lovers, of course. Ashayt supposed that her desire for Amun Sa had been naked on her face, in the way she moved, in the way she spoke. For his part, Amun Sa had never seemed to suffer from even a moment’s hesitation. He would tell her later that he had wanted her from the very moment he had helped her stand up in that dusty alley.

They had not lain together that night, nor for weeks afterward, but he had been waiting for her at the market the next day, and the day after that. As he helped her sell her bread, they told each other of their lives. Ashayt learned that Amun Sa was twenty-six, and had been married to the daughter of a powerful governor since the age of fifteen. He and his wife hated each other, and they spent time together only when absolutely necessary.

“She is an ill-bred, illiterate shrew that cares only for acquiring jewelry and stuffing her face with delicacies – while the people her father governs starve,” he told Ashayt one day as they walked along the river’s edge. Ashayt, who could not read herself and who had never tasted anything that might be described as a delicacy, had kept her mouth shut.

“I wish so very much to be rid of her,” Amun Sa muttered, mostly to himself, as they walked along the river’s edge.

“Could you not leave her and take for yourself … another woman?” Ashayt asked him, careful to keep her voice neutral.

“I would do so gladly, but we were wed at the command of my King, and I have been forbidden to divorce.”

“Yet you do not wish to be with her.”

“I do not. She has taken command of my finances like a good wife but wastes our income on nonsense. She has borne me but two children, and not because she is barren, but rather because it is an effort to kindle any desire for her, an effort to bring her to my bed, and an effort even more to convince her to perform her duties as a wife.”

Ashayt, who at the time had only a vague notion of what those duties entailed, felt her cheeks warming. I would perform them for you, she thought. I would do whatever you asked.

Amun Sa was looking at her now and she could not meet his gaze, but she knew he must have guessed at some of these thoughts for she heard him laugh quietly. He stopped walking and stood looking out at the expanse of blue water, typically so wide, but grown now sluggish and thin from drought. Ashayt stood next to him, also looking out, wondering why the Gods had put this man before her yet saddled him with an unbreakable marriage.

“I should let you return to your family,” Amun Sa said after a time.

“They will not miss me yet for a little while,” Ashayt said. It was not precisely the truth, but neither would her foster parents object if she returned home later than normal.

“Yet I must let you go. I must, for both of our sakes.”

“Why, my Lord?”

“I fear that if I remain any longer in your presence, I will ask you to do things with me that men and women sometimes do, when they are free. When they wish to show that they care for each other. That they desire each other.”

It was the most direct statement of his feelings for her that he had yet made, and Ashayt felt a rush of adrenaline at his words. She chose her response carefully.

“My Lord Amun Sa, if you were to ask me to do these things with you, I would not refuse you.”

“I am a married man and cannot take you for a wife. We could never be much more than ghosts, moving together in the dark but fleeing when the light comes, and if there are children, they will be the children of ghosts. They would have to live without knowing their father’s name. You should go and find another man, one who can make for you a proper husband, with a fortune for you to care for, who will be father to your children and—”

Ashayt touched the fingers of her hand to his shoulder, and felt there flesh that was jerking, shaking. Goosebumps rippled across his skin as she stroked it, and Ashayt found herself fighting against the desire within her to press herself against him, force him to hold her, force him to make her his. She wanted to do this, but knew she must not. It must be his choice, his decision, his desire.

“There is no other man,” she said. “Neither here in this city nor outside of its walls. There is no other and I would not wish it so even if I could. My Lord, you know what I will say, if you ask … but you must ask.”

Amun Sa turned to look at her now, still trembling, his dark eyes almost black in the slowly setting sun. He reached his hand out and ran it once down the side of her face, his touch like a gentle summer breeze, and Ashayt closed her eyes.

“Please ask,” she whispered.

Amun Sa put his hands on her shoulders and was silent for a moment longer. Ashayt stood still, eyes closed, barely daring to breathe.

When Amun Sa spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Ashayt, do you love me?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then tell me so.”

“I …” Ashayt paused, not in doubt or fear but simply because she had never said these words, and they felt new to her lips. She took a breath, looked into his eyes, nodded.

“I love you, Amun Sa.”

She could see his desire in his eyes and thought for a moment that he would sweep her from her feet right at this very spot, take her to him and kiss her, bring her to some secluded place and show her what it was to lie with a man. With a visible effort, he took hold of himself, and he smiled at her.

“And I love you, Ashayt, so I ask you: will you come to me tonight, and lie with me, and love me as I love you?”

“I will. Only tell me where, and when, and I will come.”

“There is a fisherman’s shack, not far from the market, on the western bank where two palm trees lean together to form a cross. The man who owns it does not use it during the night, and when we were young my friends and I would stay there sometimes, fishing for eels. There is a bed, and a place for a fire. I will be there when the moon comes above those trees, and I will wait there for you. I will wait until the sun rises, if I must.”

“I will not make you wait,” Ashayt told him. “I will come to you when the moon is in the sky. I would … I would go with you now, if it was your wish.”

Amun Sa smiled at her, leaned in, pressed his lips to the skin between her neck and shoulder, and whispered, “Do not tempt me.”

Ashayt shivered, sighed, tried in vain to slow her beating heart. Never before had a man put his lips on her body in such a way, and the touch of them overwhelmed her, filled her with desire. The thought of what else might be in store, later that night, was nearly too much to bear.

“Tonight, my love,” Amun Sa told her, and Ashayt nodded.

“Yes, tonight. At the fisherman’s shack when the moon is above the two palm trees that form a cross. Yes.”

Amun Sa looked into her eyes for another interminable moment, and Ashayt wished with all her heart that he would seal their arrangement with a kiss, but he turned instead and set off toward the city, and he did not look back.

Ashayt closed her eyes and stood listening to the noise of water on stone, the rush of wind in the reeds, the call of birds in the palms. She smiled, and looked up at the sun still hanging so far above the horizon, and began her own journey home.

* * *

When the creature took her, Ashayt had been meeting with her new lover for little more than six weeks. Amun Sa would find her in the market at some point during the day, and help her with her sales, and after they would take walks and talk together. On some days he would not show up at all, and Ashayt would understand with an aching disappointment that his affairs had kept him away that day and that she would not be with him under the moonlight that night.

She wondered how long the wild joy inside of her would last. She knew at some point that darker thoughts would begin to tinge the edges of her happiness, like spilled wine seeping into wet linen, spreading its wicked fingers out ever wider over time. She knew that she would grow jealous of Amun Sa’s wife, angry that she could not take her place at his side, terrified of what would happen when she inevitably found herself with child and without a husband. She knew that all of this would come, but as of yet it had not. As of this sixth week in their illicit affair, she felt only love – and the overwhelming desire to partake of his body and to give her own over to him.

It was on the journey back from just such a rendezvous that the creature came. They had made the mistake of falling asleep together in the hut, limbs entangled, the sound of each other’s breathing a lulling drone. Amun Sa had for a time whispered beautiful things in her ear. He had again petitioned the king for permission to divorce, and had hopes that this time the answer might be different. He had heard word that his wife’s father was falling out of favor with the royal court, that politicians all across the kingdom were overstepping their bounds, using the drought as a means to further their own ends. It might be possible, it might …

They had slept, and in the early hours of the morning Ashayt had awoken with a start, convinced that someone was watching them. Some presence seemed to have filled the hut, like a great, dark cloud looming over her, and yet there was no one to be seen in the small room. The only exits were the door, firmly barred, and a tiny hole in the roof to accommodate the smoke rising from the fire. The thatched roof could not have supported even a young girl, let alone the sort of adult who might desire to spy upon a sleeping couple. There could be no one who watched them, and yet it seemed—

Amun Sa stirred next to her, mumbled something inaudible, and all at once it seemed that the presence fled, pulling away from her mind like a receding tide. Within moments it was gone, and there was only the crackling of the fire and the slow breathing of the naked man beside her. Ashayt disentangled herself from Amun Sa with care, trying not to wake him, and stepped to the door. She removed the bar and pulled the door open just enough to glance outside, but there was nothing to be seen except the stars and the moon and their doubles in the river.

The moon – it hung far too low in the sky. Dawn was near, she thought, and they had spent many hours more in the hut than they ever had before. Surely someone would have missed them by now.

“My love, you must wake,” she said, closing the door and turning away from it. She went to the bed and knelt beside it, taking her plain linen dress from the ground as she did so. She touched Amun Sa’s shoulder and, when this failed to wake him, shook it gently. Amun Sa stirred, groaned, blinked his eyes.

“Wake up. Wake up! Oh, no.” Ashayt went to shake him again, but Amun Sa took her wrist in his hand and held her arm steady. He opened his eyes.

“I am awake,” he said. “What troubles you?”

“Oh, I have been a fool! I allowed myself to fall asleep, and now … it is near dawn, my Lord. The moon has fallen nearly to the hills.”

“Your parents will know you have been away,” Amun Sa said, concern in his voice. He sat up and rubbed a hand across his face.

“Stupid, stupid,” Ashayt was muttering, standing now and struggling into her dress. She could feel Amun Sa’s eyes on her body as she did so and felt, even then, the warm rush of pleasure that came with being desired.

“It is as much my fault as yours,” Amun Sa was saying. He too was standing, finding his clothing – much finer than hers – and beginning to dress. His wig, perched originally on a simple three-legged table, had fallen on the floor during their lovemaking, and he grabbed it now and hastily brushed the dust from it.

“I do not worry for myself,” Ashayt said.

“But your parents—”

“They are not my parents, they are my … my guardians, and anyway, I am too old and too strange to be made wife to any other man. They do not command me, and I would not listen if they tried.”

“You are not strange,” Amun Sa said, and Ashayt made a noise of frustration, wishing he would hurry, even as her heart filled with joy at these words. She turned, smiling, and pressed her lips to his, hard, feeling his teeth behind them. Amun Sa dropped his wig into the dust again and put his hands around her back, but Ashayt pushed him away.

“I worry for you,” she told him. “You will be missed, and how will you explain your absence?”

“I do not care. To whom will I explain myself? My frigid wife? Our slaves? There is no one in my household who would dare question my actions, and my wife knows her father has lost favor with the king. If she is even aware that I was gone – which I doubt – I will hear no word from her about it.”

“Your slaves will talk,” Ashayt said. She had finished dressing, had put on her own simple wig, and was standing at the door, waiting for him.

“Let them talk, then,” Amun Sa said. He finished making himself presentable and came to join her. “Let them think what they will.”

Ashayt shook her head. “It will make its way back to the King eventually, and whether he favors your wife’s father or not, he will be displeased. Until you can be rid of your wife, we must be discrete. My Lord … my love, there is nothing discrete in sneaking back to our homes as dawn breaks.”

She could see that Amun Sa understood the truth in her words, and also that this truth frustrated him greatly. He paused for a moment, looking at her with his deep, dark eyes but not speaking.

“Go,” Ashayt said, and when he didn’t move, she opened the door for him and stepped out into the sand. “Go!”

Amun Sa remained for a moment more rooted to his spot. He opened his mouth to speak, and Ashayt put her hand to his lips.

“Please, Amun Sa. Because I love you and would not see you put in danger, I beg you, please … go.”

He went, touching her cheek as he did so, striding off into the dark toward his home. Ashayt watched him leave and, when he was out of sight, looked over her shoulder, past the river and to the east. The hills had not yet begun to glow in the way that said dawn was near, but neither did they blend into the inky blackness of night: sunrise was coming. By the time she got home, it would be time to make the bread. She closed the door of the fisherman’s hut behind her and began her trip.

She was cutting through a strand of reeds when the voice came to her, something more than a sound, as if spoken through a long and echoing tube that reached directly into the center of her head.

“See how the harlot flees the scene of her crimes,” it said, and in it Ashayt could hear malevolence and a kind of black humor that bespoke a person who might find glee in terrible things, like the torturing of small animals or the unjust punishment of slaves. She came to a stop, bare feet squelching in the mud, looking all around her. Again she felt that creeping dread, as she had in the hut, that she was being watched by some being of awful power.

“Who are you?!” she demanded of the darkness around her, and for a moment there was no response. Then came a dry rattling, the sound of an avalanche of bone cascading down a hard face of rock, as the reeds before her parted and a figure stepped forward. Ashayt could tell that it was a man, taller than her and broad through the shoulders, and it seemed to her that amid the shadows that hid his features, a single eye shone forth as if lit from within. Had he been standing there, all this time, waiting for her? How could he have known the path she would take?

“I know a great many things,” the man said, and again it seemed to her that his voice came not from his mouth but from all around her – and from within her.

“Who are you?” she asked again, but this time in a voice that, robbed of courage, came out weak, little more than a whisper. She could feel the danger of this man coming off him in palpable waves, and she wondered if she had not lain with her lover for the last time earlier that evening without knowing it.

The man-thing gave her a leering grin that seemed too wide for his face, regarding her for a moment more with his strangely glowing eye, and spoke again.

“When first I was, I had no name, and since I became what I am now, I have been known by many. In the green lands, north across the great sea, they called me Harad’ur. They would bring me white-skinned girls like tiny flowers, bellies sliced open and still crying for their mothers. They would lie on the ground within the circle of stones and tremble as I drank the very life from their bodies.”

Ashayt had no immediate response to this, and it seemed that no further information was forthcoming. The thing – she could not manage to think of it as a man anymore – stood there before her, staring at her with its wicked eye. At last, she found the courage to speak again.

“What do you want of me?”

“You are not of this place,” it said, tilting its head to one side.

“I was born in the south and my people are no more.”

“The south is nothing but desert, baking under the hateful sun.”

“I am from the desert. What do you want?”

The thing chuckled. “I have a gift for you.”

“I want no gift,” Ashayt told it. “I want only to return to my home.”

“Oh? And not to the arms of your lover?”

Ashayt faltered, her cheeks warming, and said, “I do not know of whom you speak.”

“Make me yours, my Lord!” the thing exclaimed, its voice taking on a gasping, needing tone that Ashayt knew was a twisted imitation of her own. “I cannot wait a moment more! Use me as your vessel, an empty thing to be filled. Spray into me your hot and sticky seed while I go before you on my knees like a bitch in heat!”

Ashayt felt her mouth drop into an expression of shock and dismay, and seeing this, the thing cackled a kind of hideous, screaming laughter. Ashayt shrank away from the sound, shaking her head in negation, and might have turned and fled if the creature had not abruptly ceased its laughter and leaned in toward her.

“I have a gift for you,” it said again, and it seemed to Ashayt that its eye began to grow, becoming a deep pool of silver in which she might swim – or drown.

“I want no gift,” she heard herself say again, but the words were muffled and indistinct, as if coming through sheets of wet linen.

“It is my time,” the thing told Ashayt, and now it was cradling her in its arms, though how she had come to be there she could not remember. “Like a plant which goes to seed, I must pass my gift on, and I have chosen you. Not because you are special. Not because you are unique. I have chosen you because you are here, and I am here, and your lover is gone, gone away to be with his wife, and cannot protect you.

“I will make you mine, and when next he sees you, he will not know the woman who stands before him. He will recognize your face and your voice but he will no longer know you, and because this above all else pleases me, I have chosen you. This is my gift. May you live forever in this Gods-forsaken hell, as must I, because you were here, and I was here, and he was not.”

The thing bared its teeth and it seemed to Ashayt that its mouth had become lined with daggers. She thought that she should cry out, or at the very least feel some sense of fear, but it seemed her body could not manage. She closed her eyes, and took a breath, and felt a white-hot flash of pain at her neck. After that, there was nothing.

Chapter 6
Mission Briefing

“Do you understand your orders?” The man asked her, and Vanessa Harper sighed, long and dramatic, as she glanced over at him.

“I understood them the first time you went over them, Charles,” she said. “The second time was unnecessary, and this is just excessive. What’s the big deal?”

Charles stopped pacing back and forth behind his desk and lowered his head for a moment, holding the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. It was a gesture that Vanessa knew well. She had first met Charles at the age of nine, and he had been an integral part of her life ever since. It had been eighteen years since a pack of Burilgi vampires had slaughtered her parents, her older sister, and two of her cousins on a camping trip. They had left Vanessa and her younger brother behind only because a hunter from the Children of the Sun had shown up.

“The ‘big deal,’” Charles was saying, “is that you’ve never faced anyone quite like this before. I want to be sure you understand what you’ll be dealing with.”

“If she’s so dangerous, why go after her first? Why not knock some more of them out of the picture?”

“Her ability to galvanize other vampires into action is too dangerous to leave unchecked. With her, they become a united force – but if we remove her from the picture, they will fall rapidly back into chaos and petty squabbling. For all of our strength and training, we are still greatly outnumbered if they come at us en masse.”

“Well, most of them are Burilgi, and they hate the other ones.”

“Bridges are being built,” Charles said, looking up at her with his dark, hawkish eyes. “It is not like before. The council is changing. That is why we must strike now, before it can undergo its full metamorphosis and become something stronger.”

“You think it was better before, with Abraham still alive?”

“Of course not. Entire dynasties rose and fell among the vampires while we sat and waited for someone to remove Abraham from power. That it has finally happened – and at the hands of a young, human girl, no less – is something to celebrate.”

“Too bad we lost track of her,” Vanessa said, and Charles nodded, frowning. His hair had gone from greying at the temples to grey all over in the past four years, and where once he had been thin, he now seemed almost emaciated.

“Charles, are you all right?” she asked him, and he gave her a momentary, suspicious glance before answering.

“I am fine. Certainly there is nothing to trouble yourself over.”

“Have you seen any of the physicians lately?”

“Do I look sick to you, Vanessa?” Charles asked, chuckling, but his amusement seemed forced.

You look old to me, she thought, but she only shook her head. “No, just want to make sure you’re with us for the long haul.”

Charles smiled. “Your concern is touching, but I am fine. I will be here when you return to congratulate you on your victory, and I will be with you as we move forward. When at last we have rid America of this scourge, I will be there to celebrate.”

“That will be awesome,” Vanessa said. “Charles … I need to talk to you about Captain Perrault.”

“Yes, our new weapon. How are you finding her?”

Vanessa shrugged. “She’s as brutal and deadly in the field as she was in her training.”

“Doesn’t that please you?” Charles asked.

Vanessa ran her hands over her long, dark braids and sighed. “She’s not one of us.”

“She has gone through the indoctrination, has been touched by the Emperor just as you were and I was. She fights with the kind of single-minded lethality that we wish all of our soldiers possessed, and she hates our enemies to the very core of her being. What more would you ask of her?”

“She’s covered in blood that she’ll never be able to wash away. She ordered me to kill two more humans just on the last trip! She’ll always be one of them.”

“She’s human now,” Charles said.

“Two weeks ago she jumped from eight stories up, crashed through a plate-glass skylight, landed on her feet, and then leapt forward so quickly that she took a six-hundred-year-old Eresh vampire off guard. There is absolutely nothing human about that. Her gifts are vampire gifts.”

Charles sighed and sat down in his chair. Vanessa tried not to notice as the grey fabric of his suit, once exquisitely tailored, folded and bunched around his new, lesser frame.

“The changes that vampirism wrought upon her body are her curse to bear. She has strength and speed, yes, but her need to hunt will always be there. We have given her an outlet for her needs, and she serves us without question. If you must feel anything for her, make it pity. She has to live with the knowledge that she was once a part of the plague.”

“The others are scared of her. They won’t tell you because they’re scared of you, too.”

“How preposterous,” Charles said. “There is nothing to fear from either of us.”

“You’re the Emperor’s Left Hand, the Staff of Knowledge. She’s his Right Hand, the Sword. As extensions of the Emperor’s will, you’re both dangerous, and people don’t like getting you angry.”

Charles tilted his head for a moment, considering this, before nodding. “Yes, I suppose I can see that. Certainly I have had to hand out disciplinary action from time to time.”

“And you’re not done yet. My brother is still out there.” Vanessa pronounced the word as if it filled her mouth with some vile taste.

“Yes, your brother will need to be brought in. Surely, though, you understand that you have nothing to fear from me.”

“I understand it. A few of the others probably do. To most of them … the Emperor is like a god. That makes you a demigod.”

Charles gave a short, coughing laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It does. You and her, the Emperor’s Hands. You’re dangerous, and it’s right for them to fear the two of you. You could turn the Emperor against any one of us if you wanted to, and that woman … that thing … is a psychopath.”

She and Charles were both silent for a moment, contemplating. At last he reclined in his chair and regarded her from down the bridge of his long nose. “She is not an unthinking beast, Vanessa. She is a human being.”

“She is an Eresh vampire!” Vanessa cried, smacking her hand on the table. “She’s a vampire – one of the things we’ve been dedicated to killing since the time of the Incas – and you made her a captain. You put her in charge. You—”

Vanessa cut herself off, swallowing what she had been about to say, but Charles was grinning.

“I couldn’t make you a captain so soon, Vanessa. Captain Perrault, as the Right Hand, is a special case.”

“It’s not that,” Vanessa muttered. “This isn’t some kind of jealousy thing. Everyone on my squad knows who their orders come from.”

“Of course they do, which is why I had to give her the rank that I did. Can you imagine if I made her a Sergeant? Would a single one of them do anything she told them to do?”

“They would after she disemboweled the first one who ignored her,” Vanessa said, and Charles laughed.

“Indeed, but I hardly think that would be best for morale! It was easier to recognize her obvious combat superiority by conferring a rank upon her that forces them to obey.”

“I just wish you would’ve put her on another squad.”

“Yours is the best we have.”

“I know,” Vanessa said. “That’s why we don’t need any help from your little pet.”

Charles sighed again and shook his head. He leaned his head back against his chair with his eyes closed, and when he looked at her next, she could tell that he was exhausted.

“I will put your concerns forth to the Emperor,” he said. “Ultimately, as with all things, the decision will be his.”

“Of course I’ll abide by whatever he commands,” Vanessa said.

“Very good. If you’ll excuse me, my dear, I have a great many things to do today – most of them tremendously dull, but vital nonetheless.”

“You might want to take a nap first. You look beat.”

Charles gave her a wan smile. “There has been little time for sleep of late, but I assure you, I am fine.”

He stood up and moved toward the door, and Vanessa knew she was being dismissed. She stood as well, stopping next to him at the door.

“Thank you for listening to my concerns,” she said.

Charles smiled at her. “Certainly. You know that whenever you need to speak about such things, my door will be open. In the meantime, I ask only that you trust in your Emperor and in me, and that you give Captain Perrault your full support.”

“I’ll do my best,” Vanessa told him. She stepped out into the hallway.

“Thank you. Good luck on your mission, Vanessa. I am sure it will be a resounding success, and I anticipate your report. Remember: This woman is key. Eliminate her, and the others will fall.”

“We’ll get the job done,” Vanessa said. “In two days, she’ll be a memory.”

“Very good,” Charles said. Vanessa nodded, turned, and began to walk down the tiled hallway. Behind her, after a moment’s pause, she heard the door latch closed.

* * *

The manifest for the private jet said it carried three banking executives, an Internet entrepreneur, and four crew members. No mention was made of the cache of weapons tucked into the rear of the plane. To the outside world, the jet was nothing more than one of the thousands that crisscrossed the globe each day, bringing men and women of wealth and power to their destinations. No one could have guessed that its passengers, in conjunction with its crew, formed an elite death squad that had been training together for years.

“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant,” Janus said as Vanessa stepped onto the plane. “Can I get you a mimosa? Maybe a pre-flight pastry? It’s complimentary.”

Janus was a tall, powerfully built man with long, sun-bleached hair held back in a ponytail and a perpetual three-day stubble on his tanned face. Wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he was stretched out in a wide leather chair, a can of Budweiser in hand, smirking at her.

Vanessa grinned. “You thinking of quitting the Children, Janus? Gonna become a flight attendant?”

“I looked into it. The skirts don’t fit.”

“Shame, with legs like yours.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Beside him the Brazilian, Paulo, laughed. He was short, thin, and wiry, with sensual lips and closely shorn black hair. Devoutly religious, Paulo prayed to his God often. He was not afraid of anything, he had told Vanessa once, because he knew that so long as he walked the righteous path of the Emperor, God would protect him. Vanessa, who put her faith in none but herself and the Children, had merely nodded and changed the subject.

“You see the Captain?” Paulo asked her, and Vanessa nodded.

“She was finishing her breakfast.”

“Blood pudding, right?” Janus asked.

“Belay that shit,” Vanessa growled, watching out the window as Captain Perrault approached the plane.

“Whatever you say, ma’am,” Janus said, and his voice sounded like he was smirking again. Paulo snickered.

“Keep laughing, Oliveira,” Vanessa said, still watching the blonde woman below. “We’ll see if God reaches down and stops her when she decides to tear your arms off, because I’m not getting in the way.”

Paulo went silent. After a moment, he said, “My Lord would protect me.”

“Just like he’s protected all his other fans, right?”

“Estou marcados com a cruz,” Paulo said. “I am marked, Lieutenant. It is the Lord’s sign.”

“Sure it is. I’m just saying, shut up unless you want to find out for sure if your little birthmark is the real deal.”

“Cristo …” Paulo muttered, but spoke no more.

“When’d you sign up with the bats, Ness?” Janus grumbled, and now Vanessa looked back at him, struggling to retain the sudden fury that welled up inside of her.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” she snarled. “If it were up to me, we’d have scorched them all off the face of the Earth years ago – but it’s not up to me. It’s up to the Emperor … the man who saved you, and Paulo, and me, and everyone else we know. We all took the oath. We all knelt before him and felt his hand touch our heads, and we swore to serve him no matter what. So if he says we follow this woman, then we fucking follow her.”

Vanessa thought she was finished, turning away to look out the window again, but the rest of it bubbled up and she couldn’t keep from swinging back around, leveling a finger at Janus. “And if you ever accuse me of anything like that again, Private, I will blow your fucking jaw off and piss down the hole ‘til you drown. We clear?”

Janus was looking at her with his eyebrows raised, startled and not exactly frightened but definitely concerned. He nodded. “Crystal, Lieutenant.”

“Good. She’s coming on board, so zip it up. I don’t want to hear from you for the rest of the flight. Read a magazine. Sleep. Drink your shitty beer and watch porn on your laptop … I don’t give a fuck. Just shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Vanessa turned back to the window, struggling to regain control. She was shaking. Shaking! All from a stupid, harmless comment by Janus, a man she had known for almost a decade. A man she had laughed with, drank with, flirted with (and thought about fucking more than once, in the way a person will idly entertain an impossible event, like hitting the lottery). Janus had been the first to request transfer to her unit. He knew her, respected her, wanted to work with her. It was just a dumb joke. Why the hell had she let him get under her skin?

I hate this, she thought.

There was no choice. Nothing she could do. The Emperor had given orders and Charles had affirmed them. There was nothing at all Vanessa could do except what she was told. She had sworn it, and on the day she had spoken those words, she had meant them with all of her heart.

It was the first and only time she had ever met the Emperor of the Sun, and she could still remember every moment perfectly except what the man had actually looked like. He existed in her memory surrounded by a sort of glowing haze that obscured all but a basic silhouette. Had the haze been real? Had they drugged her? Some of their training involved such measures. She couldn’t remember.

It didn’t matter; he was her Emperor. Her God. The man she had sworn to serve until her life ended. Now he wanted her to work with Captain Perrault, so that was what she was going to do.

Slowly, Vanessa brought herself under control. They had a job to do, and it was perhaps the most important of any that the Children had attempted in her lifetime. With one blow, they could break apart the vampires of America like a pane of glass. A million tiny pieces scattered suddenly into chaos. They had only to kill the girl. That was what Charles had told her, and she believed him.

Thinking of the glory to come, Vanessa pulled herself from the state Janus had put her in. When Captain Perrault climbed the stairs and stepped into the jet, looking around with that familiar detached, unimpressed expression, Vanessa smiled at her.

“Welcome aboard,” she said.

* * *

The flight progressed without incident. Janus, following his orders to the letter, drank Budweiser and unashamedly watched pornography on his laptop for the duration. Paulo passed his time reading his Bible. The Captain meditated, spending most of the flight on her knees, arms held out before her, breathing deeply.

Vanessa was envious of her ability to leave the world behind. She had never taken to meditation; the preparatory sessions before her baptism as a member of the Children had been agonizingly dull. She had passed the time trying to think of ways to kill vampires. During her training, she had cataloged nearly a thousand, some plausible, some absurd. She had since only been personally responsible for the deaths of four vampires, and was looking forward to starting her campaign in earnest.

The two pilots up front, Jason Burke and Andrew Connors, hadn’t said a word over the jet’s PA system since advising the passengers to prepare for takeoff. There was no need; the flight had been smooth and none of the passengers cared about the scenery below.

Just before takeoff, they had been joined by the engineer, a Korean man named Soon Park who rarely spoke and proceeded to spend the entire flight poring over spreadsheets with a furious intensity that Vanessa found bewildering. The final member of their squad, Carrie Brennan, had stepped onto the jet wearing a ridiculous flight attendant outfit and an expression that said she would murder the first person who mentioned it. Janus had glanced at her, visibly restrained himself from commenting, and gone back to his porn.

Vanessa liked Carrie. They were about the same age and had come up through the ranks together, though Carrie was only a Sergeant and would probably never go further. She wasn’t as physically gifted as Vanessa, but she was intelligent and determined, and she hated vampires with a passion that burned so brightly it seemed sometimes extreme even to the other members of the Children. Vanessa didn’t know the exact details of the incident that had brought Carrie to the Emperor, only that it had left the girl with a glass eye, several facial scars, and a permanent speech impediment – she pronounced her TH’s with an F sound. The rumor was that Carrie had a forked tongue, but Vanessa had never been able to confirm this as the woman rarely spoke above a murmur.

They touched down just before eleven o’clock at night and taxied to a small hangar owned by the Children, supposedly operating as an independent travel company for executives. From there they boarded two black SUVs, four of the squad members in each. By midnight they had arrived at their living quarters.

“Nice digs,” Janus commented as they pulled in, and Paulo made a low, impressed whistling noise. The place was a postmodern behemoth, three stories tall with a three-car garage. Vanessa guessed the size at something north of five thousand square feet.

“I heard a whole mess of vampires used to nest here,” Burke said, staring out the window at the mansion. “Bunch of Burilgi. We cleaned ‘em out and when the house went into default, we grabbed it for a song.”

“Beautiful,” Janus replied. Burke turned, nodded, and grinned. The two had known each other since coming to the Children as boys and had never been in separate units. Janus was a fast-talking, fast-moving, wisecracking pain in the ass who liked to shoot first and, rather than ask questions later, just keep shooting. Burke, a talented sniper, was careful and methodical, rarely joking about anything. Still, they seemed to complement each other, and were probably the closest friends in the entire unit.

They left the vehicles and entered through the building’s front door. Although Captain Perrault ran the squad during combat, Vanessa served as its day-to-day logistics director. To that end, she had been given a floor plan ahead of time, and she quickly ticked off the sleeping arrangements.

“It’s a five-bedroom. Captain, you’re upstairs to the left, all the way down. Janus, Jason, you’re next to her. Carrie and I will take the next room. Then Park, Oliveira, and Connors can work out the other two.”

Her people were used to the barracks at their central location, where each room was fitted with military bunk beds and slept at least six. These accommodations were, by comparison, luxurious. No one complained, and Vanessa continued.

“There’s a pool out back and a media room on the bottom floor. Also billiards and some pinball machines. I think there’s a wet bar too, but I’m declaring that shit off limits until we’re back here celebrating a job well done. You got that, Andrew?”

“Sure, Lieutenant,” Connors said. Vanessa knew he carried a flask with him, but she wasn’t worried about that. The man had never shown up drunk for a mission, so what he did in his spare time didn’t concern her.

“That’s all I’ve got. Briefing is tomorrow at 16:00, over there in the dining room. Until then you’ve got free run of the house and plenty of time to get some sleep. I don’t think I need to remind anyone that is probably the most important mission the Children have ever undertaken, and they chose us for it.”

“We’ll be ready, Lieutenant,” Paulo told her. The others murmured in assent. Vanessa glanced over them, nodded, and dismissed them. With the exception of the Captain, they headed toward their rooms to stow their gear.

“A moment of your time, Vanessa?” Captain Perrault asked, and Vanessa raised an eyebrow but set her duffel bag back on the floor and turned to face her CO.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“This woman tomorrow … she belongs to me. I want you to make it very clear to the others, when you brief them, that there will be no shooting unless I give the order.”

“Certainly,” Vanessa said. She had expected this; the Captain’s bloodlust was notorious, and Vanessa knew the Children sometimes brought her captured vampires to exterminate after they had given up any intelligence they possessed.

“She may not be alone,” the Captain said. “If there are others, you’re welcome to them, but I don’t want a shot so much as fired in her direction while I’m still drawing breath, even if it looks like I’m losing. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Captain. You could … would you like to address the squad directly at the briefing?”

Captain Perrault shook her head and gave a sardonic smile. “I have the strange belief that they’ll take your words to heart more readily than mine.”

Vanessa, who of course knew that the Captain was right, refrained from response. After a moment, the Captain’s smiled widened, and she nodded.

“Good. I would like to see you an hour before the briefing to go over the layout of the apartment and discuss tactics. Other than that, I would prefer not to be disturbed.”

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll make sure the others know to let you be.”

Privately, Vanessa doubted this would be a problem. None of the others wanted anything to do with the half-vampire creature under whose command they had been placed.

“Very good. You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”

“Ma’am,” Vanessa said. Picking up her duffel bag, she made her way toward her room.

Chapter 7
The Unfortunate Fate of Amun Sa

When Ashayt woke with a gasp and a start to find herself lying in a thatch of reeds, the lower half of her body submerged in tepid, murky water, she could not remember how she had come to be in the place, or what had happened to her after falling asleep in the fisherman’s hut. Groaning, she pulled herself to a sitting position, fingers digging into the thick, stinking mud, and set about removing the leeches that clung to her legs and feet.

They’re drinking my blood, she thought to herself, and a shudder tore through her body, twisting and knotting her muscles as if she had come down with a fever. She coughed once, gagged, moaned. Her entire body hurt, and the sun pressed down upon her like a heated weight.

That hateful sun was far too high in the sky. Morning had long passed and she thought – though it was hard to think with her head pulsing so – that the time was now closer to dusk than to noon. Her foster parents would be either fearful or furious, or both. She needed to get home. Ashayt pushed her own questions about what had brought her to lie unconscious in the swamp to the back of her mind and focused instead on summoning the strength she needed to stand up.

Her first effort was a dismal failure and resulted only in her crashing back into the bog, releasing another wave of noxious air that reeked with the scent of decay. Again her body heaved, trying to vomit, but there was nothing inside of her and after a time it gave up. Ashayt lay on her side in the muck, gasping for breath, exhausted by even the simple attempt to get to her feet. Around her, the chorus of chirruping frogs and buzzing insects seemed to be laughing at her plight.

Her next attempt was more of a success in that she did not immediately topple over upon standing up, but neither could she seem to summon the energy to move. She stood instead with her back bent, hands on her thighs, breathing the deep gasps of someone who has performed a feat of incredible physical exertion. At least up here, away from the mud, the air was clearer and stank less. It was a small change, but it seemed to help. Ashayt thought that soon, she might even be able to take a step or two.

Time passed. Ashayt was unsure how long it was that she stood there, gasping, willing her strength to return, but she thought that the sun’s progress in the sky marked it as at least a quarter of an hour. Finally she felt prepared to move, and with a deep breath she took her first aching step forward. Her entire body seemed to complain about this course of action, and she thought the pain and weakness she was feeling very similar to a fever that had taken her a few years before, and from which she had been very lucky to return at all. She knew she would soon collapse again, and thought that if she did so among these reeds, where few ever ventured, she would likely die in this place.

She made a creeping sort of progress, angling her way out of the bog, and at last came to its edge. Here there was a dirt road, the side of it lined with a stone wall to prevent people and carts from falling into the very swamp from which she had just emerged. Ashayt leaned against this wall for a time, breathing deeply, ignoring passersby as they stared at this disheveled, muddy girl with the dark skin and darker tattoos. Right now she was more concerned with summoning the strength to get home than she was with the effect of her appearance on those coming in and out of the city.

At last she thought she had the strength to continue, and Ashayt began her slow, shuffling walk along the wall, using her left hand against it for support as she went. Without the wall she would not have made it very far at all, and even with it, a journey that should have taken no more than twenty minutes took her more than an hour and a half. No one stopped to offer any help. No one had ever stopped to offer her help, not once in her life – except for Amun Sa, and he was not there. Ashayt pressed on regardless, as she had so many times before.

At last she came to the outskirts of her family’s fields and there saw a slave whose name she could not remember, hunkered down and pulling weeds. He glanced over at her briefly and then turned to stare, rising to his feet. Ashayt opened her mouth to say something, though she did not know what, and at that moment it seemed that a white-hot blade stabbed deeply into her left eye. She made a cracked, dry noise – not a scream, she couldn’t have managed a scream – and pitched forward into the dirt, and closed her eyes, and remembered nothing more for some time.

When she woke again, she was lying naked and clean on her simple cot of wood and stretched hide, covered with a single sheet of linen. Her foster mother, Nephthys, was leaning over her, pressing a cool, damp cloth to her forehead. The only source of light in the room was a single tallow candle, and yet it seemed to Ashayt as if the room were brightly illuminated.

“How are you feeling, little mau?” the woman asked, favoring Ashayt with a smile that managed to look both relieved and concerned at once.

“I … I feel better, I think,” Ashayt said. Her voice was hoarse, and she felt as if every last ounce of water in her body had been burned away. “But I am so thirsty.”

“That is no surprise. When the slave brought you to us, your skin was so hot to the touch that I feared you would die right there. I gave you a little water, but it was making you choke, so I had to stop. Here …”

Nephthys handed her a clay mug filled with water, and Ashayt drank from it gratefully. She could feel the cool liquid running down and through her, but it did not seem to slake her thirst, and after a time she lay back, breathing deeply and trying to will away the awful demons that must surely be infesting her.

“Ashayt, my Ashayt … where did you go?” Nephthys asked. “We feared you abducted, and when you returned you were filthy! Covered in mud and grime.”

“I awoke in a swamp by the river’s edge,” Ashayt said, staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember. “I don’t know how I got there. I don’t remember anything after … after …”

But of course, she could not tell her foster mother the last thing she remembered, which was falling asleep in Amun Sa’s arms as she lay with her head on his chest and listened to his breathing. After that there was nothing, just a great black span until her awakening in the reeds at the river’s edge, long after the day had begun. What had happened? When had she and Amun Sa parted, and how had she come to be in that place?

“After what?” Nephthys prompted, and Ashayt shook her head.

“After beginning the return from my evening walk,” she said. “I walked to the temple, and listened for a time to the chanting, and then I left that place.”

This, at least, was true. She had been early for her rendezvous with Amun Sa and so had walked first to the temple and listened to the monks therein, singing to the Gods. Then she had turned and headed not south, where her family’s farm lay, but instead northeast, to the little fisherman’s shack that had become their place of consummation. She’d waited for him there, naked and glistening with sweet balsam oil, and when he’d entered and stopped, stunned by her appearance, she had spoken not a word but had instead gone to her knees–

“You remember nothing more?” Nephthys asked, interrupting her reverie, and Ashayt felt her cheeks warming. She shook her head.

“Nothing, until I woke in the reeds. I … it must be the fever, again.”

Nephthys nodded, frowned, and glanced out through the small window opening on the west wall, as if she might find the answers to her questions written in the stars.

“I had hoped it would not return so soon,” she said. “But these are ill days, and the Gods are disturbed. Irrational. They strike down those who have done nothing to deserve it. First droughts and now sickness.”

Ashayt, who felt she had done much to deserve the wrath of the Gods, said nothing. She closed her eyes, and the world seemed to swing suddenly sideways. When she opened them again, some greater length of time had passed than she had expected. Nephthys was now slumped in her chair, leaning against the wall and snoring, and the sky had gone a beautiful royal blue that foretold dawn’s imminent arrival. The thirst raged still within her, and though she drank again from the ceramic cup, it seemed that no amount of water would satisfy it.

“Please,” she said then to the Gods, her voice cracked and broken and nothing more than the faintest whisper. “I am not ready to die. There might still be a chance for me, and for him, to make this thing between us right. We might be wed, if only he can convince the King, and then there could be children, and a life outside of the fields for these good people who have raised me. There might still be a chance for love, and life, and happiness, and I beg only that you let me live to see it.”

The Gods had never answered her before. Though she prayed now with as much fervor as she ever had – even as a girl, hiding in the bushes outside of her home and listening as her family was butchered – still they refused to give her the slightest sign that they had heard. Ashayt, exhausted again and unable to summon the strength even to keep her eyelids open, gave in to the sickness that assaulted her, and she slept.

* * *

Someone was knocking on the door. A thin structure made of branches and woven reeds, it shook and rattled with each hit. Ashayt, awake again on her cot, knew that the sound would carry throughout the meager three-room house of mud bricks. She heard her foster parents murmuring, wondering who it might be that would come calling. Her foster father, Bes, would be the one to open the door.

“Greetings and welcome to this, my most humble home,” Bes said to the visitor, as was custom. Ashayt knew there would be polite bowing to accompany these words.

“May your home and fields be blessed by the Gods with many long days of prosperity,” came the reply, and Ashayt found herself sitting bolt upright in her bed, a newfound energy coursing through her body. There could be no mistaking that voice; Amun Sa, her love and lover, the very reason for which she woke each morning, was standing at the entrance to her home.

“You have my thanks, stranger,” her foster father replied, and Ashayt could hear in his tone a wariness that suggested he had noticed the quality of Amun Sa’s trappings and understood that this man who had come to their home was of some greater class than had any business on the outskirts of the city. “Of what service can I be to you?”

“My name is Amun Sa,” her lover said, “and I would be stranger to you no longer. I am third-cousin by marriage to King Pepi, Lord of all the Earth, Descendant of Ptah the Maker, may he rule forever.”

Bes was clearly at a loss for words. He stammered for a moment before finally regaining his wits and saying, “My Lord, you bless our home with our presence.”

“Truly, it is I who am blessed to be here,” Amun Sa replied. “For today I have been given a great and wonderful piece of news, and it is because of this that I have come to stand at your doorstep. I have come to speak with you, sir, and to beg you if I must. I have come to ask permission to court your daughter.”

Ashayt was unable to keep herself from making some small, strained noise of joyous disbelief. If the words that Amun Sa was saying were true – and he would not have been there if they weren’t – then he had been granted permission by King Pepi to divorce. The thing they had both hoped and prayed for had happened.

Despite her weakness, despite her thirst, despite the fever that seemed to be raging through her body, Ashayt leapt from her bed and began to dress. She could hear her foster father stammering, again, and her foster mother making a sort of disbelieving noise.

“Are you sure you have the right home, my Lord?” Nephthys asked. “Our daughter is … she is not our true daughter, though we have loved her as such for many years. She comes from the south, from—”

“From the desert, yes. I know.” Amun Sa laughed. “I assure you, I have the right home. Her name is Ashayt, and she has lived with you as your daughter these past dozen years. She is dark skinned, with lovely, swirling tattoos that cover her body from head to toe, and she is the most beautiful and wonderful creature that the Gods have ever put on this earth, and I love her with every fiber of my being, and I cannot stand for one second more to be apart from her.”

“My love!” Ashayt cried, bursting now through the fabric that hung between her bedroom and the common area and racing toward him, seeing his face light up and his arms open wide. “Amun Sa, my beautiful Amun Sa!”

And then he was holding her, and she had wrapped her arms around him, and he was pressing his lips to the top of her head, and she put her face against his chest, and she was weeping, weeping with joy and love and the simple disbelief of all that was happening to her now, at last, after so many years of being alone.

She heard her foster mother say, “I told you she had someone,” in an amused tone.

“Please, sir, may I court your daughter?” Amun Sa asked again, still holding her close to him, and she heard Bes give an incredulous laugh.

“I’m not sure we have a choice,” the man said.

Ashayt had managed to get some amount of control over herself and turned now to face her foster parents. “I will have no other. I love him. I love him, and I will never love another as much as I love him, not should I live a thousand years or more.”

“Ashayt,” Nephthys said, a joyous expression on her face. “My lovely Ashayt, my tiny little mau … you don’t need to justify yourself to us. You are a grown woman, and you have earned the love of a fine man who can give you a life that we could never provide. How could we say no? How could we stand here and look at the love on both of your faces and tell you that we do not approve? All we have ever wished, from the moment we took you into our home, is that you would find happiness. Does this man make you happy?”

“More so than I have ever been in my life,” Ashayt told them.

“Then, by all means, marry him,” Bes said, and he laughed. “Marry him now, before he comes to his senses and realizes that a cousin of the King has no business with the daughter of a struggling farmer. In fact, good sir, could we not convince you to do this tonight?”

Amun Sa laughed as well, and he shook his head. “I would be happy to do it – happy to pledge the rest of my life, this very night, to the daughter of a struggling farmer, but I cannot. Not yet. My King has approved my divorce from the woman I was forced to marry, but it is not yet finished in the eyes of the Gods. In five days’ time I will be free, and I say to you now that I will marry your daughter on the sixth day. I will do it gladly, and I will welcome her and all those who love her into my family.”

Ashayt turned again and pressed herself against him, taking in the scent of him, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped still around her body. It seemed impossible, this thing he suggested – like a wisp of dream, borne upon the summer breeze, that must inevitably fall to earth. How could it be that she had come to have everything she had ever wanted? How could it possibly be?

“My love,” she said to him, and felt again the urge to weep with joy. “My love. My love.”

It seemed to her as if she could never say these words enough.

* * *

“I feared you had given up on me,” Amun Sa said. “You’ve not been at the market for two days.”

Ashayt smiled at this idea, and she shook her head. “No, I would never leave you. I have been … unwell.”

They were walking together under the moonlight, and while Ashayt supposed that Amun Sa thought the winding path he was taking terribly clever, he could no more disguise that he was maneuvering them toward the fisherman’s shack than if he had announced the destination out loud. Ashayt, for her part, did not mind. She lacked the strength to perform as enthusiastically as sometimes she did, but she still wished to be again with her lover after two days without.

Amun Sa glanced over at her, an expression of concern on his face. “Should we turn back? If you are not feeling well, my dearest, then I do not wish to … that is, I won’t make you—”

Ashayt laughed and touched her fingers to his shoulder. “I know where you are taking me and want nothing more,” she said.

“But you—”

“I am a woman in love who feels much better than she did during the day, and I want to be with you. I might still have some fever – I feel hot inside, though Nephthys says I am cold to the touch, and I am still so very thirsty no matter how much water I drink.”

“What have you eaten today?” Amun Sa asked, and Ashayt tilted her head, trying to recall.

“I … don’t think I have eaten anything, my love. Truly, I’ve had no desire for food. Just water and more water. I spent most of the day sleeping, if truth must be told.”

“I hope the Gods will favor you with a swift recovery, my Ashayt. We have many long years ahead of us to enjoy in good health.”

Ashayt shuddered with pleasure at these words and gave her lover a brilliant smile. Oh, how wonderful that plan sounded to her ears, to her heart. She felt the sudden and overwhelming physical desire that Amun Sa so often inspired in her, swelling up from within, and realized that she wished to wait not one moment longer, much less the fifteen or twenty more minutes it would be until they arrived at the fisherman’s hut. She took his hand and slowed, then stopped, peering around her. It was dark, now, and there were few people out of doors. Surely there must be somewhere …

“What are you doing?” Amun Sa asked, perplexed, and she stood up on tiptoes to whisper into his ear.

“If we went and stood in that alley, there, we would be deep in the shadows, and no one would see.”

“My darling …” Amun Sa murmured, his tone slightly nervous as he glanced around, looking for any others who might be out sharing the evening cool with them.

“I don’t want to wait. I can lean against the wall, with you behind me, and you could cup my breasts with your hands while you fill the part of me that is empty.” She longed to feel his arms around her, his fingers pinching at her nipples, his teeth at her neck.

“Are you sure?” Amun Sa whispered back, and Ashayt felt something wild and animalistic open up within her, a ravenous desire that seemed impossible to deny.

“Take me there,” she snarled into his ear. “Take me there and press me up against the wall and … and fuck me. Hard and fast, like a beast. Like a brigand in the night. I am not yet your wife; for another five days, I am only your woman, and I wish you to lay claim to me.”

Amun Sa, visibly aroused now underneath his tunic, seemed to need no further encouragement. He led her quickly to the alleyway, away from the torches that lined the main thoroughfare they had been traversing, until all she could see of him was an inky, purple silhouette, and then he turned and pressed his lips to hers. Ashayt could feel his member against her. She made a growling noise of desire and lifted the linen fabric up, exposing him and taking him into her hands.

Amun Sa made a noise of desperate need as she stroked him, and in only a moment more he took her by the shoulders and spun her around, pulling at the sash that bound her dress at her shoulder. Ashayt felt the cool night air caress her body for a moment as her dress slipped to the ground, and then Amun Sa stepped up behind her, his hands coming up to cup her heavy breasts, and she pressed her arms up against the wall of sandstone blocks.

“Take me,” she whispered, and bent a little at the waist, and she felt him encircle her belly with one arm and pull backward even as he thrust forward. Then he was inside of her, and the force of his entry caused her buttocks to slap against his belly with a noise that Ashayt felt sure must have been heard by every living thing in this great city, but she no longer cared. She felt him withdraw and thrust again, and again came the noise, and Ashayt followed it with a long, low moan of pleasure.

Amun Sa, lips at her ear, now whispered, “Someone will hear.”

“Let them,” she hissed back, and pushed against him. “Let the whole world hear and know that I am yours.”

Amun Sa seemed to acquiesce to this, at least temporarily, and for a time there was only the sound of their coupling accompanied by rough panting and the occasional gasp of pleasure. Then he leaned in to her again and seemed to make one last, ridiculous attempt at propriety.

“We must be quiet,” he said, and Ashayt felt a sort of mad rage streak through her. Quiet? They were animals, animals like lions on the plains that mated where they pleased and when it suited them. She pulled herself from him and spun, barely registering the surprise in his eyes, and with a single shove, startling in its strength, she sent him stumbling backwards. He lost his footing and landed in the sand with a thud, and he might have voiced some protest if Ashayt had not knelt immediately astride him and stopped his words with a kiss.

She found his manhood again, hard and hot and slippery, and slid it easily back inside of her, and by the time she had finished kissing him, Amun Sa seemed no longer interested in keeping silent. He was making harsh, high grunts, his hands wrapped again around her breasts, squeezing her dark nipples with each thrust of his hips. Ashayt knew he would soon finish, wanted him to finish, wanted him to feel that pleasure.

She leaned down and in, kissing him, kissing his lips and his chin and his cheeks and his neck. She stayed there at his neck and felt a curious warmth in her upper gums, accompanied by just the slightest hint of pain, but it was distant and could not compare to the pleasure between her thighs and the unnamed, ravenous need that seemed now to fill her entire body.

“Darling …” Amun Sa said in a strangled voice, his last living word, and when he pumped again with his hips and she felt him loose his seed within her, she bit deeply into his neck, and drank his blood, and so at last satisfied the thirst that had raged within her now for so many hours.

* * *

It was only after the death of her lover, the only man whom she had ever known as a woman and the only man whom she would ever love for all her long, strange life, that Ashayt pulled away from Amun Sa’s neck and realized what she had done. Feeling slow and disoriented, drugged, she touched her fingers to her lips and held them before her, slicked red with blood. How was it, she wondered, that she could see them so clearly in this dark alley?

Below her thighs, which shook still in pleasure, her lover was no longer thrusting his hips. His chest no longer rose and fell with breath. His eyes stared up and out into the night, vacant and expressionless, and if his face betrayed anything at all of the violence that had been done to him, it was nothing more than the slightest hint of confusion, as if he searched for answers among the stars and found there nothing satisfactory.

Ashayt took in a breath to scream. There was nothing else she could think to do – she had murdered her lover in a dark alleyway in the throes of passion. She was going to scream and scream until her voice died and her lungs burst, until she wept blood, until the Gods themselves relented and, begging her to cease, saw fit to bring Amun Sa back from the land of the dead.

She was going to scream, but the chuckle she heard locked the breath in her chest and brought her up short. It was just a single, brief laugh, grimly amused and dark, but in that moment all of her memories flooded back into her mind, and Ashayt recalled every second of her encounter with the thing that stood now behind her.

I will make you mine, and when next he sees you, he will not know the woman who stands before him, the thing had said, and surely this had been proven true. Amun Sa had gone into the alley not to lie with the girl from the desert, who he thought was going to marry him in six days’ time. He had gone instead to his death at the hands of some new and awful creature that had taken her place.

“I could not have hoped for better,” the thing said in its murky, disgusting voice. “The harlot and her lover, absconding into the night for one last, fatal embrace. Tell me, my dear, do you think he understood what you’ve become, when you bit him? Do you think he understood that his death was at hand, and had time to regret ever meeting this filthy, black-skinned orphan bitch now sucking his very life away?”

Ashayt was up on her feet and turning, fingers hooked into claws, before she even had time to realize she meant to attack. With a howling cry of despair, and rage, and hate, she threw herself at the man-thing that had done this to her, meaning to claw its eyes from their sockets and chew its foul tongue from its mouth.

The creature reached out with its right hand and slapped her, the force of it hard enough that Ashayt was thrown bodily against the sandstone wall, her face mashing into the rough surface and tearing open in a dozen places. The blow should have killed her. It should have killed her – and there were many times in the long years hence that she wished it had – but it did not, and instead she fell backward to the ground and lay there, hands covering her battered face, writhing in miserable agony.

“You’ll not lay a hand on me, whore,” it said, its voice filled with grim mirth, and it took a step forward and into a shaft of moonlight. Ashayt had taken her hands away at the sound of his footstep, and she saw now for the first time its ghastly visage. The creature’s face was a mass of scars, as if its flesh had been chewed on by rats for some extended period and then left to heal. It possessed neither hair nor eyebrows, and where its nose should have been there were only two grotesque slits, malformed and damp with mucus. One eye had gone milky and dead. The other glittered out at her with horrid, malicious glee.

Ashayt again drew in breath to scream, this time in terror, and the thing made a sort of hissing noise, slashing its hand through the air, and her throat locked tight again. What came out instead was a wheezing sound that was barely audible.

“Already you have made too much noise,” it told her, crouching down to look at her better as she lay, naked and battered, on her side in the dust. “It is a miracle that none have yet come to investigate and found you here with your dead lover. Now there will be no more. Now you will listen.”

And so the thing began to speak. It told her of the six centuries it had lived since first its master had brought it into the world under the moon, a thing to be caged and tortured, experimented upon, burnt by the sun and blinded by acids. Disfigured. Always, the blood would bring it back from the brink of death, but even the blood could do only so much, and so the thing now was forced forever to skulk at the periphery of the human world.

“I killed him, of course. My master. It took more than one hundred years – a century of torture – but at last came a moment of weakness. A moment of distraction. I put a shiv into his eye that I had made with a bone from my own finger. A small sacrifice for one’s freedom, don’t you think? As he screamed and cursed, I shoved him into a vat of viscous, oily pitch and set it alight. I stood and watched as he burned alive, and each time he struggled to free himself from the sticky, flaming mess, I shoved him back in with his own staff.

“His shrieks were like the sweetest song played by the most talented of musicians, and I savored every one of them. When at last the flames guttered to a stop, I carried the entire trough out and cast it into the merciless sea. I can think of no more fitting a burial, no better a casket. I do hope the fishes there enjoyed his remains.”

In the years that followed, the creature told her, it went north and lived for a time in the lush, green forests of that land, populated only by wild humans who had not yet formed the great cities and kingdoms of Egypt and the Mediterranean Sea. At last, bored and possessed with the urge to pass on its gifts, the thing had returned to the land of its birth, and had stumbled upon Ashayt and Amun Sa one night as they had met for one of their many trysts.

“I knew in a moment that you were to be mine,” the creature told her. “I knew it, because I could see that you loved him, and that he loved you. There could be nothing in this world more delicious than taking such love and breaking it, shattering it forever and leaving only a dead man in an alley and a whore on the ground, naked and stinking of sweat and blood and seed.”

“You are a monster,” Ashayt told him. She could feel her body already healing from the assault, could feel new strength coursing through her, Amun Sa’s last gift. Soon she would attack again, and this time she would not be stopped so easily. She would kill this thing, or force it to kill her.

The creature laughed. “Yes, a monster is what I am, and now so are you. A thing which hunts men and drinks their blood. Tell me, my dear, was it good? Did you enjoy it?”

“It was beautiful,” Ashayt growled up at him from the dirt. “It was the most wonderful, magical experience that I have ever known, and you know that it was, may the Gods damn you. May the Gods damn you and me both for it, that I might spend the rest of eternity watching you suffer.”

The creature snorted out surprised laughter at this, its single good eye gleaming in the moonlight. Ashayt could feel her limbs tensing, preparing to propel her again to her feet.

“Are you about to try to kill me again, whore?” it asked.

“Yes,” Ashayt said, and bared her new, sharp fangs. “And if you call me a whore again, when I am done bathing in your blood I will … I will shit on your corpse and leave it here for the guards to find.”

The thing favored her with a wild grin. “Oh, very good. What an enjoyable night this is turning out to be. Do you not understand how this works? It took me one hundred years of planning to kill my master, and even then it was due to luck and timing, not any sort of physical advantage. My blood is ages older than yours. I could slap you again, girl, and your head would part from your shoulders and go bouncing down the alley. I could do this, and were you not now a vessel for my blood, I would do so gladly. By all means, though, please feel free to try.”

Ashayt looked up at him, muscles still tense, and saw the truth of it reflected in his one good eye. There was no fighting this creature, not here, not naked and weaponless in an alleyway. She felt her muscles relaxing, giving in to shaky acceptance of what was and could not be undone, and she began to weep.

“He was the only thing I ever had or wanted to have, and you took him from me,” she said to the thing that had made her a monster. “I loved him. I loved him! I would have died in his stead! I would die now, if it would bring him back.”

“I took nothing from you but your blood, and I returned that in like amount. I did not choose your victim for you, Ashayt-from-the-desert. Do not seek to place that blame on me. What you did, you did all by yourself.”

“I didn’t know!” she shrieked. “I didn’t—”

Again the thing held its hand out, silencing her as if with a thought.

“You must have known,” it hissed. “Just as I knew, when first I became what we are. Truly, I am amazed that you resisted the blood thirst for as long as you did. I expected you would wake that very next night and dig yourself out from the earth and feast upon the first human you encountered.”

“I woke in the day, and not under any earth,” Ashayt said. “I dragged myself to my feet and made my way to my home. I did not know that the thirst within me required blood, not until the very moment that I … that I took … that I … oh, my love, what have I done?”

Ashayt put her hands to her face and wept for some time, but the thing said nothing, only peered at her intently, head tilted and eyes narrowed, considering her. At last it spoke.

“What you describe is not possible.”

Ashayt looked up at him, still weeping, and bared her teeth. “You have already called me a murderer and a whore this night. Do not call me a liar as well.”

She felt for a moment the presence of the thing’s mind, overlapping hers and touching it with the gentle, knowing fingers of a lover. The sensation was both beautiful and abhorrent, and Ashayt hated the creature all the more for giving it to her.

“No,” it said. “I … you are not lying to me, girl, but this is not possible. No child of Eresh could walk under the sun, not that soon after the change. Its rays would have been painful even in the midst of your torpor. You should have burrowed into the earth instinctively, unconsciously. You would not have even woken. That was why I left you where I did, because I knew that you would do so.”

“Yet I did not.”

“No. I can hear from within you that you did not. And then you arose, under the cruel sun, and walked all the way back from that place to your farm, and even there you did not fall upon your parents and drink from them as I had thought you would. You fought the thirst.”

“What are you trying to tell me, monster?” Ashayt hissed. She pulled herself to her knees in the sand and dust, unashamed of her nakedness, furious and horrified but also now curious.

“You are not like me,” the thing said, and Ashayt heard in its voice a kind of bewildered confusion that she would never have expected. “I can feel it within you; I can almost taste it in the air. How is this possible? You are a child of Eresh! There are rules for these things.”

“I am what you made me,” she said, and the thing shook its head.

“No, you are not,” it said. “You are something new. Something different.”

“I am what you made me.”

“Then I have made you into a thing which I do not recognize, and which I do not know.”

“Then so be it!” Ashayt shouted, and when the thing held its hand up this time to silence her, she fought against the onslaught of its mind and forced her words out through gritted teeth. “So be it.”

“I will leave you now,” the monster told her, and Ashayt found the strength within her to grin at it.

“Have I scared you, beast? Have I made you uncomfortable? You murderous, hateful piece of camel dung … you’ve turned me into a killer. A parasite. A leech. Now, when you see these things you have wrought, you flee in terror? Is that how it is to be?”

“I do not fear you, girl.”

“Do not lie to me. Do not dare to lie to me!” Ashayt cried, and now she was standing, hands balled into fists, ready again to attack. If it was true that this creature could knock her head from her shoulders, then she would accept it. Somewhere, beyond whatever doorways were opened by death, perhaps Amun Sa would be waiting for her.

“A guard approaches from the west,” the thing told her. It glanced at the body of her lover, lying in the sand behind her, and its upper lip curled in a sneer. “If you would murder again to save yourself, or perhaps be executed for this cold piece of meat, then by all means, stay in this place. I wish to be here no longer.”

And before Ashayt could do so much as take a step toward him, the thing was gone, leaping upward and gripping the top of the wall some twelve or fifteen feet above her head, flipping over it and disappearing into the night. Ashayt felt her anger and hatred leave with it, and became suddenly aware that she was standing naked in an alley with a dead man. She had not been delicate with her bite, and Amun Sa’s blood coated her face and breasts and stomach, the sandy ground, even part of the nearby wall. There could be little doubt as to her guilt. She had to flee or consign herself to death.

She tried for the latter. It was the only right and proper thing she could think of to do. She had murdered her lover, even if unintentionally, and for that alone she deserved the death that would no doubt be handed to her. That she had, in the moments leading up to his death, been in a state of indescribable ecstasy the likes of which she had never before experienced made this thing that she had done somehow even more obscene. She deserved to die. The Gods would want her to die. She must die. Yes, that was how it must be.

For a moment she thought she had resigned herself, but at the sound of footsteps in the distance her heart leapt into furious activity, energized by fear and a simple, undeniable urge to live yet a little longer.

“I cannot,” she moaned to herself. “Oh, forgive me, my love, but I cannot go down that road with you yet.”

Energized and strengthened though she was by the blood, she knew she could not make the leap that the creature had made, and so she gathered up her dress in her arms and bolted for the mouth of the alley. She heard a cry of surprise from the guard as she burst out into the night, naked and moving at tremendous speed, and reached an arm out as she passed him, shoving him away even as she averted her face from his gaze. She knew that in this light, her tattoos served only to make her skin seem even darker than it was, and she hoped she might be mistaken not for a human, but for some foul creature of the night, like the thing that had made her what she now was.

“You there, wait!” the guard called as he struggled to his feet, but Ashayt was gone. Gone into the darkness, crashing away toward the east, toward the great river and the outskirts of the city. Behind her she left the body of her lover, and the life that she had known since she had come to this place as a child. Never would she see either of the two again.

During the burning day that followed, Ashayt took shelter in the tomb of some ancient nobleman, long since plundered and left to sink slowly into the desert. She had run for many hours, amazed at her body’s ability to sustain such effort, but with the coming of the sun she had grown weak and exhausted. She was thirsty again already, so thirsty, and she knew that there could be only one cure for the desperate need within her. The thought of it sickened her, even as excitement coursed through her body. It would be beautiful, and horrible, forever.

Sitting on the ground in the shadows of the tomb and watching as a single ray of light crept its slow path along the floor before her, she allowed herself to contemplate at last the full horror of this thing she had done. She wept, as she had in the alley, but also screamed, raged, begged, and pleaded with the Gods. She beat her fists against the rock walls until her knuckles bled, until the pain of it was like white-hot iron pressing into her flesh, and still she would have continued if not for the realization that the thirst within her was bringing her perilously close to licking her own blood from her skin and from the walls. At last, lying on her side, pink tears leaking from her eyes to fall and be sucked up greedily by the dry sand, she made the first of two vows that she would spend the next four millennia upholding.

“I will never kill again,” she told the darkness, and whatever creatures, gods, or demons might be listening. “I will never, ever take another life, so long as I may live. I swear it on my own soul, though that be damned already, and on the soul of the man I love, Amun Sa, son of Hêtshepsu, may he find peace forever in the land of the dead. I will never, ever kill again.”

Exhausted, heartbroken, and more alone than she had been even in those long days and nights after the slaughter of her tribe, Ashayt laid her tired head on her arms, and she slept.

* * *

The creature that had once been known as Harad’ur visited her but one time more. It came only eight nights later, as Ashayt made her way north along the river’s edge by the light of the moon, grown now nearly full and shining like the sun to her new, powerful eyes. She had fed on each of these nights, had fought the ecstasy with all of her being, and each night it had grown easier to not kill whichever poor slave she had chosen for the activity.

She was beginning now to retain enough consciousness to note that they seemed to be enjoying it, and she found this very curious indeed. She was coming also to understand that she possessed a tremendous ability to overwhelm her victims with lust and desire, and that when she was done, they would wake with no memory of the event. She had watched from the darkness beyond their limited vision, several times, to make sure of this. Never had she seen the panic and fear that she had expected; there was only confusion, and a kind of unexpected serenity. She had murdered her lover, but she was bringing these random strangers joy. The thought of it was darkly ironic, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth that was even stronger than the salt and sweet of the blood.

Ashayt was walking with her head down, watching the rocks at her feet and trying not to think about Amun Sa, trying not to think about anything but putting further distance between herself and the city of Ineb-Hedg. When she felt the presence descend upon her as it had twice before, Ashayt stopped cold and found herself turning in circles, staring out into the night, trying to find the source of the feeling. At last she pinpointed it: a group of palms, not far from the river’s shore. She stood staring for a time, but the creature seemed to have no intention of approaching her.

“Come out, thing,” she called to it. “Come out and say whatever it is you have to say and then be gone, unholy monster that has damned me to this hell.”

There came from the palms a chuckle, and the creature’s rotten, grating voice.

“You could end your own life, little girl, if you wanted. It seems you yet wish to live.”

“I am afraid,” Ashayt said. It was a simple truth, and though it shamed her, she was not about to let this creature hear it in her voice. “I am afraid to die, and so I flee the punishment I deserve.”

“There is no such thing as ‘deserve,’” the thing said, and it stepped out from the palms and stood with its bare feet in the sand, regarding her. After a time it leaned back its head, and sniffed the night air, and sighed with contentment. “It is a lovely night, don’t you think? Even now, after hundreds of years, nights like this make me appreciate the freedom that I bought when I killed my master.”

“What do you want?” Ashayt demanded. “You’ve done what you wished. You’ve taken all that I had. What more can I give? Do you want my life, now? Is that how this ends? Then take it. Come here and take it and leave me in peace.”

The creature gave her a leering grin but came no closer. “You will never be at peace. I knew that when I made you what you are, and that is why I gave you my gift.”

“I never wanted your Gods-damned gift,” Ashayt said, her voice broken and weary.

“I never asked if you did.”

“No. But I’m asking you, now. What do you want from me?”

“I have watched you, each of these nights. Did you not feel it? No, because I did not permit you to do so, but I was there. You refuse the gift I have given you. You drink from slaves when you could drink from kings, and you leave them alive. Alive! I have made you into death personified, yet you leave them alive. Why?”

“I will never kill again,” Ashayt told him. “That is my vow.”

“Can you not see that they ask for it?” the thing asked her, tilting its head. “How is it that you do not understand? They beg for death with every breath they take. They tempt and taunt it with each passing day. They war on each other, these things. They torture and kill and maim. They keep their fellow men as slaves. You, girl, would be a slave yourself if not for blind, stupid luck. You would never have met your precious Amun Sa if you had but turned left instead of right on any of the days you traveled through the desert, lost and alone and afraid.

“These people, these humans, did that to you. These things did that to you, and now you refuse to kill them? That is the conclusion you’ve drawn? You could lose yourself in unparalleled ecstasy each night, every night, and yet you choose to end it prematurely. Why?”

Ashayt considered this for a time, but at last she shook her head. “This thing you’ve given to me, it is true that I have never felt its equal. Even at the height of my passion with my lover I did not feel what I feel now when I take the blood. You are right, it is ecstasy like nothing else in the world, but there is more to the world than pleasure. There is more to the world than the feeling you describe, and there is more to man than the actions of which you speak.

“You have given me the peak, yes. A pinnacle above what even Amun Sa was able to give to me, and for that you want my thanks. Yet you have taken from me the time after, when I would lie with my head on his chest, and listen to his heart beating, and smell the scent of his skin. You have taken the times when I would walk with him to market and hear stories of his youth and laugh with him. You have taken the feeling that he and only he could give me – that all was right in the world. I loved him with every part of me, not just those simple, stupid parts that respond only to pleasure. You speak of the terrible things men do and I will not deny them, but a life lived only for that dumb pleasure would be just as sad, and empty, and barbaric. That would be nothing. It would be nothing! And that is what you’ve left me with. Nothing.”

Ashayt found herself weeping again, trembling with rage and loss, furious with this creature and its inability to understand the things it had taken from her.

The thing that once had been called Harad’ur, that once had feasted on the blood of tiny children left in its circle of stones as sacrifice, looked back at her, unspeaking. If any of her words touched it in some place where once had dwelt a soul, Ashayt could not see it. Its expression did not change. Its gaze did not falter. It only looked on, mute and uncomprehending, and she hated it all the more for this.

“Go away from me,” she said, and, turning back to the river, she began again to pick her way among the stones.

She did not look back, and after some time, she felt the creature’s presence disappear.

* * *

Ashayt made her second vow while standing on the shore of the Mediterranean Sea, some two hundred miles from the darkened alley in which she had killed her lover. Here was the border. Here was the edge of her homeland, the place she had lived every day of her life since coming screaming into the world, and now she turned her back to the waters and looked at the lands she had crossed to reach this point. After a time she knelt in the damp sand and closed her eyes. She thought of nothing until it seemed that the rushing sound of the waves had filled her entire body with a sort of thrumming energy. At last she raised her head to the black sky above, dotted with the tiny sparks of the stars, and looked out into that eternal night.

“Amun Sa,” she said, and waited. “Amun Sa, are you listening?”

There was no response. Only the lull and crash of the waves, and Ashayt put her hands over her eyes and waited, waited in that damnable, deafening, crashing silence, that forever-void she had created when she had taken his voice from the world and sent him on to the land of the dead. Then she tilted her head up, neck extended, back arched, arms out, and screamed his name to the uncaring heavens. She let forth her cry again, and again, and again, until at last her voice shattered like crystal on stone, and she doubled over in pain, digging her fingers like claws into the wet sand.

“I will never return,” she screamed at the sand in her broken no-voice, embracing the pain that tore her throat, that made the tears pour from her eyes in a torrent, that made her whole body twist in upon itself.

“This is my punishment. This is my penance. My love, my dearest, my Lord, my beautiful Amun Sa, I will never again touch this land. I will never again see the home of our people. I will never again set foot in the place where I knew your love. Amun Sa, I loved you. I loved you and I killed you, and even if I live until every star in the sky has burned out and the Gods have grown old and frail and senile on their thrones, and even if every day from now until then is agony, it can never be enough. It will never, ever be enough.

“Please forgive me for what I’ve done, my love. Please forgive me, for I never will. That is my promise. That is my punishment. I will never return to the land of our love, because there can never be forgiveness.”

Somewhere below, in the Land of the Dead, she hoped that Amun Sa could hear her. Ashayt pressed her forehead to the cold, wet sand and then kissed it with her lips. She could taste the salt of the sea, and with it came a dry and calcified aroma, the scent of the hundred, billion, trillion ocean creatures that had come before her, and those that would go on living long after her sad, sorry life had at last come to its close. She thought of the way he had smiled at her on that first day when they had met, and how she had known instantly and beyond the smallest doubt that she was to be his forever and ever, until the end of all things.

Kneeling there in penitence for a sin from which she could never be absolved, the girl from the desert began to sob.

Chapter 8
A Stunning Success

“We are presently located fifteen minutes away from the target by car, and we have two hours to get set up before the sun sets,” Vanessa Harper told her people, glancing around the room to ensure their attention. “Our trackers have assured me that the target is in her building. Their reports show common behavioral patterns, and while we don’t expect her to deviate much from them tonight, we’ll need to be prepared if she does. We don’t know whether she’s armed, but she’ll be dangerous even hand-to-hand.”

“She alone in there?” Janus asked.

“That’s what the scouts say. Just the girl. For a while she was spending her nights with someone, another vampire, but he’s been out of the picture for a few weeks. He headed back to the city.”

“Weird,” Connors said. “Why’s she out there all alone?”

“Does it matter? We’re going in tonight and when we’re done, whatever it is she’s doing, well, she won’t be doing it anymore.”

There were chuckles at this. Even the Captain smiled. Vanessa continued.

“Park and Brennan will handle exterior surveillance and communications. The Captain, Janus, Connors, and I will be at the front line. Burke and Oliveira will handle the bungalow’s two entrances and deal with anyone who comes along. Lethal force is acceptable for any encounter, but if they’re human, at least try to avoid killing them.

“This woman is quick and likely very strong. She may have mental abilities that we’re not aware of. Rely on your training. Finally, everyone in this room is under strict orders not to attack her unless the Captain explicitly requests it, no matter what happens, even if it seems like the Captain’s in trouble. That’s correct, Ma’am?”

“Yes,” Captain Perrault said, nodding. “I want her on my own.”

There were some raised eyebrows at this, but no one objected. Muttered remarks and bad jokes aside, none of them doubted her abilities in combat. She was faster, stronger, and more ferocious than any of them by a wide margin.

Vanessa resumed her speech. “Your dossiers include a full floor plan and an area map. She’s staying in a posh resort up in the foothills, and there’s a lot of space between each bungalow without much security. Unless there’s shooting, we don’t expect to be noticed.”

“When do we hit her?” Carrie Brennan asked in her typical, quiet tone.

“We move into position one hour after dark, and the forward team will enter via the rear door as soon as Park has everyone located on the scanner. She usually starts her nights slow. The scouts have never seen her leave the building before ten or eleven.”

“Why aren’t we doing this during the day?” Janus asked, and there were murmurs of agreement.

“Her type can handle the sun,” Vanessa replied. “She doesn’t sleep through the day – they’ve seen her moving around. So there’s not much advantage. Plus, the place is big and flat and there’s not much landscaping … we show up in combat outfits and someone there calls the police in about ten seconds. The night helps her, sure, but it helps us more.”

There was a moment of silence, and when it became apparent that no one had further questions, Vanessa wrapped things up.

“We leave in ninety minutes. Go on, get dressed and study your maps. This should be easy … in, out, and the Captain’s doing all the work. But assuming it’ll be easy is the best way to make sure it’s not, so I want everyone prepped. In the event that shit hits the fan, we rendezvous back here by any means possible. If this location is compromised, make your way back to HQ on your own. Any more questions? No? Good, dismissed then.”

Her crew headed off, and Vanessa went to the room she shared with Carrie to change into combat fatigues. It was only once they were both inside, with the door closed, that the other woman spoke up.

“Can I ask you something, Ness?”

“Go for it,” Vanessa said, pulling off her jeans.

“You think the Captain can handle this?”

Vanessa was pulling on what she thought of as her work pants. She brought them up over her hips and buttoned them, then looked over at Carrie. The other woman, short and pale with straight black hair cropped just below her ears, was looking back in expectation.

“You weren’t on the mission in Chicago, or you wouldn’t have to ask that. The Captain is a hell of a fighter, Carrie.”

Vanessa belted her combat fatigues and sat down to pull on her boots. Carrie pulled her shirt up and off, her ribs clearly visible under the skin beneath her small, freckled breasts. All of the Children soldiers were in peak shape, and Carrie was no exception, but she bordered on too thin for her own good.

“No,” Carrie said, pulling on a black turtleneck. “It’s not … I know she can fight, but this bat we’re going after is a big deal, right? Are you sure the Captain won’t decide to go back to playing for her original team?”

That will forever be the question, Vanessa thought. Out loud she said, “The Captain hates vampires as much as you or I do.”

“But she used to be one of them.”

“Sure, and I used to be a Catholic. Wouldn’t stop me from gunning down a nun if she grew a set of fangs and started drinking blood.”

Carrie grinned, swapped her pair of khaki shorts for combat fatigues, and shook her head.

“Once a vampire, always a vampire. That’s what I think.”

“It’s not what the Emperor thinks.”

“That’s why I’m here. You know I’ll do anything he says. But this girl we’re going after … it’s not like she’s some dipshit Burilgi who just made the change and thinks she’s a superhero.”

“No, she’s not. That’s why there are eight of us going, instead of one or two. Carrie, if the Captain turns … then she turns. If it looks like that’s going to happen, I’ll put a bullet between her eyes myself, but I don’t think it will. She hates them. Only person I know who hates them more is you.”

“We all hate them,” Carrie said. “I’m not special.”

“No, but …” Vanessa paused, unsure how to continue.

“Are you trying to figure out how to ask me why I’ve got a glass eye and big scars all over my face, and why my talking’s all fucked up, and why everyone thinks I have a snake tongue?” Carrie asked. She cinched her boot-laces and looked up, a cold smile on her face.

“Figure you’ll tell me if you want me to know,” Vanessa said. “And I didn’t think you’d heard about the tongue thing.”

“It’s amazing what people will say when they think you’re not listening, even when you’re in the same room,” Carrie said. She stuck her tongue out at Vanessa. Like her face, it was deeply scarred, and a chunk of it was missing on one side, but it was not forked.

“OK, so no snake tongue,” Vanessa said.

“No. It’s partially paralyzed. I can’t bring the tip of it up the way I’m supposed to, so that’s why I can’t say T-H sounds. Doctors said I was lucky to keep it at all. Also, I can barely taste food, so that’s why I’m built like a twig.”

“Yeah, so … now I have to ask what happened, and you’re not allowed to get mad at me for it.”

Carrie sighed. “No, I brought it up. But I’ve never told that story to anyone. Not even Charles. Not the whole thing, anyway.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

Carrie shook her head, bit her lower lip, and took a breath. “Six vampires, all dressed in gang colors, high on God knows what, broke into our house one night. They rounded my parents and me up in the master bedroom and flipped a coin to see which adult to kill first. It came up tails, so they took turns feeding off my mom, and when they were done they shot her in the head. She actually lived, if you can call what she ended up as ‘alive.’ The brain damage was so bad that she was on life support for almost eight years, just an empty shell. I couldn’t visit, of course, but I kept track. I was twenty-one when they gave up and pulled the plug.”

“Jesus,” Vanessa said.

“Yeah. That would’ve been enough, right? Would’ve been plenty for me to hate them. But then they got the idea that it would be funny if they … if they held a shotgun to the back of my dad’s head and told him to f-fuck me.”

Carrie’s voice was shaking, her breath hitching, and Vanessa put a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” Carrie said. “I want someone else to know, and I like you. I trust you. It was … they told my father if he did it, they’d let us go. They put the gun against his head and two of them held me down and pulled up my nightgown, and they made him take off his boxers. I was thirteen, so I had a pretty good idea of what to do, and I told him it was OK, that he should do it, and I opened my legs. They all started laughing, telling him that I was a slut and a hoochie and a puta, that I wanted it, and he knelt down …”

“Christ, did he actually do it?”

“He couldn’t get it up! He tried for like ten minutes, begging them to let us go, but they weren’t interested. I don’t think … now, I don’t think they’d have let us go even if he’d done it, but back then I believed them, and I was trying to encourage him, and I think that made it worse for him. So finally he’s crying and apologizing … he’s apologizing because he can’t make himself fuck me. And I said, ‘It’s OK, Daddy,” and the vampire holding the gun goes, ‘I am so fucking bored of this’ – I remember it exactly, the words, the tone, like he couldn’t believe he had wasted his precious time – and then he pulls both triggers.”

“Fucking vampires,” Vanessa said, her voice hoarse. “Then they cut you up?”

Carrie was crying now, but she laughed at this. “Oh, I wish, Ness. I wish that was what did this to me. That would’ve been so much better, but they never touched me. It was pieces of my dad’s skull that did all of this. Shrapnel. I got to have surgery after surgery so they could dig little bits of my father out of my face. There’s probably still some of him in there even now, and every time I look in the mirror with my one good eye, I get a nice reminder that I’m only alive because when they blew my dad’s head off, I took so much of the blast that they just left me for dead.

“No one even believed me, either. Not about the vampires, anyway. They figured I’d dreamt that shit up while lying half dead in a pool of my own blood. Tim – you know, Colonel Palowski? – came to me in the hospital after and asked whether I wanted to go live with my aunt, or ‘disappear’ and come learn how to kill the things. I mean … I don’t even have to ask what you would’ve chosen. You’re here for the same reason I am.”

Vanessa, who had not actually watched her parents die but only heard it from another tent, shook her head. “Not exactly the same.”

“No, but close enough. I didn’t even feel like there was a choice, you know? I couldn’t talk, because of the surgeries, so I wrote on my pad, ‘How many do I get to kill?’ and he goes, ‘As many as you want,’ and I wrote ‘I want to kill them all,’ and underlined it twice. He just took my hand and smiled like it was the best thing he’d heard in weeks.”

There was silence for a time. At last, Carrie gave an embarrassed laugh, wiping the tears from her face.

“So that’s why I hate vampires so much, and why I never got drunk and hooked up with anyone, even though pretty much everyone with the Children has banged at least one other member. I don’t … I don’t think I’m ever going to have sex with a guy. I don’t think I want to. Not really into girls, either.”

Vanessa, who had slept with three male members of the Children, plus a handful of civilians, kept her mouth shut.

“I still want to kill them all,” Carrie said. “Every single one, including her. I won’t ever go against the Emperor, but … that’s just how I feel.”

“It’s not like you’re alone,” Vanessa said. “She’s only got to get about five feet away before Janus starts in with his bullshit.”

“What about you? She almost seems to like you.”

Vanessa kept her voice carefully neutral. “I appreciate the Captain’s abilities and her dedication to the Emperor. I don’t know if she likes me … not sure she likes anyone. I’d say it’s more mutual respect.”

“That totally did not answer my question,” Carrie said, smiling, and Vanessa glanced over at her and shrugged.

“Closest you’re going to get, Sergeant. How about you worry a little more about memorizing those maps and a little less about whether or not the Captain and I are secret lovers?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carrie said. She sat down on her bed and began flipping through her dossier. After a moment, Vanessa spoke again.

“Thank you for sharing your story with me.”

Carrie looked up, shrugged, and smiled again. “You never made fun of me, or called me names, or looked at me like I was some kind of freak. I’ve … I’ve wanted to tell the whole thing to someone else for a while, get it out, and I thought you were probably the someone. I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”

“Did you ever get to … you know, take care of those guys?”

“Colonel Palowski rounded up five of them. The sixth one was dead already. Took him about eighteen months to track them all down, but once he knew where they were, he gathered them up in just two nights. Then he brought them to a warehouse in the middle of nowhere in Wisconsin, and he chained them all up to posts. He set up a video camera, and then he doused them with kerosene and burned them alive. He never told them what they’d done, never told them what it was all about. He never spoke a single fucking word, just sat there while they screamed and burned, and smoked his cigar.

“He gave the tape to me on my sixteenth birthday, along with a fifth of whiskey. I watched it over and over again until I had to go puke from the booze. I ended up passing out on the bathroom floor, and when I woke up the tape and the rest of the whiskey were gone. It didn’t matter. It’ll always be up here.”

She tapped her forehead, and Vanessa nodded. “Sounds like a hell of a birthday.”

The woman across the room gave a short, harsh laugh.

“Best I’ve ever had.”

* * *

“Carrie’s got you all on the eye in the sky,” Soon Park said, his voice tinny in Vanessa’s ear. “I’ve got your vitals on the scanner. We’re ready to go.”

“Right,” Vanessa said. “Everyone in position? Count off.”

The numbers came in reverse order, from six to one. Vanessa spoke hers second to last and next to her, in a voice so emotionless she might have been ordering a combo meal from a value menu, the Captain said, “One.”

“That’s it, then. Let’s do this,” Vanessa said, and without further hesitation she kicked in the back door of the small bungalow in which their quarry was currently living.

She went in first, the Captain right behind her, Janus and Andrew Connors following. She could hear the crash in her earpiece as Burke kicked in the front door, where he would remain positioned until their withdrawal. Paulo would stay behind them at the rear entrance. The goal was to be in, out, and done before any security guards or other curious humans happened by.

The back door opened into the kitchen, a little-used room, dark and unoccupied. Vanessa turned on the flashlight attached to the end of her rifle. The others did the same, and they continued into the living room. It was well-appointed, filled with posh furniture and pieces of original art that the management company had secured. Vanessa felt a mild twinge of envy; the older ones were always so rich …

She pushed it out of her head, stepping out into the room. She could see Burke at the door; he shook his head once, indicating he’d seen nothing, and gestured down the hall. Vanessa nodded and took position at the edge of the wall with her weapon aimed at the bedroom door. Janus moved past her, checked the bathroom, and then positioned himself with his back against the wall. He glanced at Vanessa and then at the Captain.

“All yours,” he murmured into his headset, and the Captain made her move.

She wasn’t carrying a firearm; she never did. She was wearing all black, from her boots to her combat fatigues to the tight shirt made of leather with Kevlar reinforcements and darts of stretchy synthetic for flexibility. Her long, blonde hair was tied back and her forearms were covered with leather gauntlets girded in black metal rings. Hitched to her sides, as always, were her blades, and across the chest-plate was a bandolier filled with auto-injecting darts.

Captain Tori Perrault, former vampire and current elite soldier of the Children of the Sun, the Emperor’s Right Hand, strode up to the door at a pace almost leisurely. She stopped in front of it, took a single breath, and then shoved outward with both arms. The door did not so much open as blow inward in a spray of wooden chunks. What was left of it hit the doorstop so hard that the thin tube of metal punched into the wood of the door, stopping it from rebounding. The Captain stepped in, and Vanessa followed her.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing a long and flowing gown of orange and turquoise and purple, was a woman who looked to be in her early twenties. She had dark skin covered in swirling tattoos and long hair pulled back in a high ponytail encircled with golden ringlets. She did not seem surprised by their arrival, nor did she look in the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she seemed to radiate a sense of serenity and peace, and Vanessa found it difficult to look at her for too long without becoming confused. Lightheaded.

“I wondered when you would come for me,” the woman said in a soft, melodious voice.

She was talking to the Captain, looking directly at her, seemingly uninterested in either Vanessa or Janus and Connors, who had come in to the room and taken flanking positions, aiming their weapons at her.

“Now you know,” the Captain said, and the tattooed woman nodded.

“I wonder also, child … do you know who I am?” she asked.

“I am not your child,” the Captain replied.

The woman nodded and gave her a small smile. “Forgive me – when you’ve lived for more than four thousand years, everyone seems very young.”

“If you want to impress me, you’ll need to try harder,” the Captain said, and the woman’s serenity seemed to falter for just a moment. A flicker of something – anger? fear? – crossed her face and disappeared, replaced again by calm and peace. Vanessa had seen it, though, and so had the Captain.

“Will you answer my question?” the tattooed woman asked.

“I know who you are,” the Captain said. “The rest of them don’t, but I do. I know exactly who you are, Ashayt-Sa, eotah acho ma jitte.”

Vanessa glanced at Janus, who shrugged. They had never learned the vampire language. The woman on the bed, however, narrowed her eyes.

“You were never taught that speech …”

“I was never taught anything by your kind,” the Captain replied. “Everything I know, I learned from my Emperor.”

“That is not possible.”

Here the Captain favored the woman with a bloodthirsty smile. “Many things are possible for the Emperor of the Sun.”

The tattooed woman considered this for a time and at last said, “You have come here to kill me.”

“Yes.”

“Do you expect me to accept that?”

“I don’t intend on giving you a choice.” The Captain reached down and unsheathed her two blades, holding them casually at her sides. The tattooed woman smiled at this and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, opened them again, and when she spoke next it seemed her voice came not from her mouth, but from the very walls around them, loud and reverberating as if through some gigantic set of hidden speakers.

“I am not accustomed to being threatened,” she murmured, but her words were like a physical force, pressing down upon them. A great wave of despair seemed to roll over Vanessa and she was gripped with a sudden and indisputable certainty that all of their efforts were foolhardy. There was no chance of success, she thought, and no hope for tomorrow. It made her want to fall to her knees and weep, and it was only through a supreme effort that she maintained her position.

She watched in shock as Connors actually dropped his weapon and held his hands to his ears, as if such a simple, futile gesture could contain the sound. Janus managed to control himself, holding on to his rifle but raising his lip in an unconscious snarl. Vanessa, too, kept her grip on her weapon, but she knew that if she told the muscles in her arms to raise it, they would not obey the command. The waves of despair rolling over her seemed ready to crush her, drown her, drag her into blackness.

Even the Captain was not unaffected. She bowed her head against the onslaught of the woman’s voice, and Vanessa saw the muscles in her arms tense, saw the blades waver just a bit, and wondered for the first time if their small task force would be enough. This woman was something beyond anything they had ever encountered, and it seemed her superiors had failed to prepare her for what she and her team would be up against.

Then the Captain lifted her head and grinned her angry grin. “If you want to live, your parlor tricks won’t be enough. You’ll have to kill me.”

The tattooed woman frowned at her. “I have not killed in—”

“Four thousand years,” the Captain snapped. “I know! I know what you are. I know that you are weak, that you have always been weak, and that you won’t take my life now even though I’m prepared to send you at last to the hell you deserve.”

“You know nothing of me!” the vampire roared, and at this the Captain even managed a laugh.

“I know all that I need. I have read your scrolls. Do you hear me? I know that you will only flee or, if cornered like you are now, try to use your gifts against us. That’s always been enough for you, hasn’t it, Mother Ashayt? You’ve always been able to get by with those options.”

“I have never wished to use any other,” the woman said, and still her voice beat upon them like a physical force. If anything, it was even stronger now than it was before, and Vanessa could feel terror overtaking the despair. She struggled against it, trying to hold on, hoping the sensation would pass.

“Then I’ll not give you a reason!” the Captain cried, and with one swift motion she stepped forward and drove one of her blades deep into the woman’s side. The vampire’s eyes went wide and she tilted her head back, taking a deep, gasping breath. Vanessa felt the terror and despair dissipate instantly, leaving her weak in the knees.

“Amun Sa,” the vampire whispered, and her eyes were distant and glassy, filled with tears. “Oh … at last.”

The Captain regarded her with an expression that seemed to Vanessa nine parts contempt, but there was a curious sympathy there as well.

“Four thousand years,” she said. “All that time and you never had the strength to do what you should have done the very first night.”

The vampire’s head tilted forward again, and the tears that had been brimming in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. She smiled as she met the Captain’s gaze.

“I never dared hope it would be so easy,” she said, her voice breaking. A trickle of blood began to work its way from the corner of her lower lip to her chin.

“Now you know.”

“Listen to me, child,” the vampire said, and Vanessa saw that the Captain meant to object again to this word, but the tattooed woman held up her hand. “Listen. She will forgive you. She will forgive you without you even having to ask her.”

“I have no idea who you are talking about,” the Captain said.

“Will you forgive her? Can you forgive her?”

“Who?”

“Oh, my poor child, how will you ever be able to forgive yourself?”

At this last, the Captain bared her teeth and raised her second blade. “I’ve heard enough.”

“I’ve nothing more to say,” the vampire croaked.

“Then let me finish it. Let me end this.”

The woman seemed grateful to hear these words. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, and she smiled, tilting her head back once again.

“I come to be with you at last, my love,” she whispered.

The Captain lunged forward again, this time swinging her right arm in a wide arc, bringing the carbon-steel blade rushing through the air. The tip of it bit into the vampire’s throat and, after a moment of palpable resistance, cut through, leaving a wide gash like a bloody grin and casting a spray of red against the far wall.

Gouts of crimson liquid gushed forth from the wound in great jets, but the vampire’s expression never changed. Her eyes remained closed, her head remained tilted back, and she was still smiling when she died.

* * *

“I have never felt anything like that in my entire life,” Janus said, and he threw back his shot of whiskey, grimaced, and slammed it down on the bar.

“Another round for my boy here,” Connors said, clapping him on the back. “We’ll make a fellow Irishman of you yet.”

“You’re about as Irish as my German mother’s tits, California boy,” Burke said, pouring from a bottle of Jameson into Janus’s glass.

“Yeah, well, your German mother had plenty of Irish in her, if you take my meaning,” Connors replied, grinning, and Burke pitched him the finger.

“If you’re playing bartender, Burke, Carrie and I could use a refill,” Vanessa said. Both women were drinking champagne, though the emotion Vanessa was feeling was something closer to relief than elation. She was not sure they should be celebrating.

“My pleasure, Ness,” Burke said, and Vanessa watched as he refilled both glasses.

“Much obliged,” she said when he was done, and Burke nodded.

“Anyone else? Park?” he asked, and Soon glanced up from his phone and shook his head.

“I’m set. Remind me to compliment the former owners on their choice of Scotch,” he said.

“I think they’re all dead,” Paulo said, and Park grinned.

“Even better,” he said, returning to his phone. “I won’t have to replace it.”

The Brazilian was sitting at the edge of the bar, drinking a glass of wine from a bottle old enough that its label had been illegible from dust when he had first pulled it from the cellar. Paulo rarely drank anything but red wine. The Blood of Christ, he claimed, was the only thing that interested him.

“Seriously though, Ness, you ever feel anything like that?” Janus asked. “It was fucking crazy. I couldn’t move.”

“Never,” Vanessa said, watching the bubbles in her champagne crawl up the sides of the glass.

“Carrie? Burke?”

“No one’s ever felt anything like that,” Connors said. “Jesus, dude, she was four thousand years old. You ever meet anyone else that old?”

“My grandma might’ve made it to three thousand,” Janus said, and then cackled at his own joke. He drained his glass and again slammed it to the bar. “Hit me, bro.”

Burke hit him, and poured a shot of his own.

“We actually lost radio contact for a few minutes there in the middle,” Park said. “Carrie will back me up.”

“S’true,” Carrie said, not looking up from her glass, which she hadn’t touched since Burke had refilled it.

“That could’ve been something in the van,” Vanessa said. “A problem with the equipment, maybe.”

“No, no way,” Park replied. “Our systems are triple-redundant and anyway, I checked everything over. There’s nothing wrong in the van.”

“It was the bat,” Carrie said, glancing over at Vanessa for a moment before turning back to her drink. “I felt it all the way in the car.”

“Shoulda been inside,” Janus told her. “Shit, I felt like I was going to start crying. Like everything we were doing was a complete waste, like … like …”

“Like they were going to win,” Vanessa finished for him. “Like it was all just a huge joke, because they were going to win.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Exactly,” Janus said, and for a moment there was silence. He glanced around at the others. “Captain rocked it, though. Say what you want … she fucking rocked it.”

“I wonder what some of you might say, if you said what you wanted,” a voice said from the far side of the room, and the group as a whole turned their heads to see the Captain coming toward the bar.

“Uh, nothin’ meant by that,” Janus tried, and the Captain smirked.

“Sure,” she said. “Tell me something, Janus. Have you ever eaten blood pudding?”

Janus blanched, going pale, and his features took on a look of fear and mortification that Vanessa found entirely alien on his face.

“You, ah … you heard that?” he asked.

“I hear everything,” the Captain told him, and to Vanessa’s surprise, she smiled, not a hint of malice in her eyes. Moving further into the room, she pulled out the stool next to Janus and sat down. “For example, I heard that Burke is our bartender tonight.”

Burke had been staring at the Captain with an expression halfway between awe and fear, and he started now at the sound of his own name, but then regained his composure. “What do you need, Captain?”

“Tequila,” she replied. “Give me a shot and leave the bottle. You have any salt back there?”

None of the members of the squad had ever seen the woman drink, let alone act in such a casual manner. Vanessa found herself confused, unsure what to make of this display, and could see on the faces of the others that they felt the same.

Burke set the bottle of tequila down before the Captain and quickly found her a shaker of salt. The Captain took it, curled her left hand into a fist, and shook a generous helping of salt out onto the webbing between her thumb and forefinger. She turned and looked again at Janus.

“So did you mean it?” she asked, and he tilted his head.

“I’m sorry, ma’am?”

“‘Captain rocked it, though,’” she quoted, her voice dropping an octave and taking on an eerie impersonation of Janus’s Mississippi accent. “‘She fucking rocked it.’”

Janus considered the question and then nodded. “I did, yeah. I was ready to run, OK? That’s the fuckin’ truth, Captain. If you’d lowered those blades, I would’ve been gone, and I’m not ashamed to say it because I think everyone else felt the same.”

There were murmurs of assent. Vanessa found herself nodding, knowing it was true.

“All right, then,” the Captain said, and she raised her fist to her lips, licking the salt away and chasing it with the shot of tequila. Finished, she closed her eyes and set the glass down in front of her, taking a long breath. At last she opened her eyes again and looked at them.

“But none of you ran,” she said. “You held strong in the face of someone who could have torn every one of you to shreds. She went easy. I knew she would, but I knew she’d try to use her powers first. Some other squad … one of the shit ones they send out to clean up … those people would’ve wet their pants and fallen to their knees crying. Do you understand?

“Charles told me you could handle it, and he was right. You stood your ground, you didn’t abandon your posts and give up on your duty to the Emperor. You don’t even know what you’ve done. It was the hardest thing you’ll ever do, and you did it, and you helped me do what I needed to do.”

There was silence, now, but they were all looking at her. The Captain, for her part, was staring at her left hand, still closed into a fist.

“Thank you,” she said at last, and with that she opened her hand and reached again for the bottle, looking over at them again.

“Who’ll do a shot with me?” she asked. “One shot, and then I’ll take this bottle and head upstairs, but I’m tired of drinking alone.”

Janus grinned, took the bottle from her, and filled first her glass and then his own. Burke began laying shot glasses out for the rest of the team, and one by one Janus filled them with tequila. The Captain passed the salt down along the line.

It was only after Vanessa had slammed her shot glass down against the wood of the bar with the rest of them that she realized what she had seen out of the corner of her eye. Carrie Brennan had raised her glass up along with the rest of them, but Vanessa was sure, absolutely sure, that she had seen the woman pour the tequila out on the carpeted floor.

Part III

Chapter 9
First Encounter

“Mike again?!” Two asked, glancing over the list of challengers, and Jakob laughed.

“He’s been waiting for you to come back. He, well … the Ay’Araf don’t take well to losing. Especially to a first-timer.”

“Life’s a bitch,” Two said. “Come on … I want to fight someone else.”

“So beat him again,” Jakob said. “If he loses two in a row, he’s not allowed to challenge you again until you lose a match. House rules.”

“Is it like that at all of your clubs?” Theroen asked. He was standing slightly behind Two, arms crossed, watching the fighters in the veteran ring.

“Not all of them, but most,” Jakob said. “Each club has its own rules, but we all get tired of the same fighters competing against each other over and over. If one is clearly superior, it’s time to move up. It’s the only way to learn.”

“So you learn by losing?” Two asked, and Jakob raised an eyebrow.

“What do you think you’ve been doing these past thirty-six months?” he asked. Two favored him with a cool glance.

“You’ve got a few hundred years on me, dude. I think you should be embarrassed that I beat you even once!”

“He is,” Sasha said, walking up behind them. “You should have seen the email I got that night. Honestly, teenage girls wish they were so dramatic. Perhaps he’s lost his touch.”

Jakob shook his head, smiling, and turned to face his apprentice. “Will I be seeing you in the ring soon, then, Sasha?”

“The last time we fought, oh sire of mine, you came within a whisker’s breadth of severing my femoral artery. I believe that was in 2005.”

“It was 2006, and you deserved it, leaving yourself open like that.”

“I did,” Sasha said, nodding. “But it knocked me so far down the ladder that there’s been no point in challenging you since on the rare nights you deem it worth your time to fight. The line is miles long.”

“I had no idea you were so in demand,” Two said.

“Sasha is exaggerating,” Jakob said, glancing away, and Sasha gave a scoffing laugh.

“Jakob is the best fighter on this side of the Atlantic,” she said. “He’s just too political to admit it.”

“I prefer ‘modest,’” Jakob said.

“You’re that good?” Two asked him. “No bullshit?”

“Sasha’s claim is bolder than anything I would make, but I will admit I’ve not lost a fight in … quite some time,” Jakob replied.

“Stephen said you were better than him,” Two said, thinking back to her days in London. “He said you were a more natural fighter.”

Jakob shrugged. “I fought Stephen many times. I usually won, but near the end he was getting very good. Still too susceptible to taunting, though. I could always goad him out of his defense and get him to attack, and that always opened things up.”

“That does sound like Stephen.”

“I would say – if I try not to succumb to the aggrandizement of my loyal fledgling – that Stephen was ahead of me in aggression, roughly equal in skill, but far behind in control. I took advantage of that.”

Two nodded. “And you don’t fight anymore?”

“Not often,” Jakob said. “Of late I prefer to observe, and to train. You and Sasha are not the only students I’ve had, though I believe the two of you to be the best.”

Two gave an incredulous laugh. “Sasha would carve me up like a turkey.”

“Even with one arm,” Sasha agreed, smiling a little. “But Jakob didn’t say that we were equally skilled. I have a lot more training than you do, Two, but you have talent.”

“Talent, drive, and the pedigree of your blood,” Jakob said. “Ay’Araf are stronger than Ashayt and faster than Eresh, at least those of equivalent age, but I’m not so sure about you, Theroen-Chen. You’re ridiculously fast and strong.”

“I got lucky,” Two said, and she shrugged. It was the truth. She should have been dead, long ago, murdered by Abraham and burned to ashes. Everything after seemed to her a sort of inexplicable miracle.

“Luck is what you make of it,” Theroen commented. He smiled, tilted his head, and regarded Two for a moment. “You have put in the work, my love.”

Two grinned. “OK, I won’t deny that.”

“And that,” Jakob said, “is why I’ve no doubt you will defeat Mike again and move on to your next challenger. So stop mooning over your boyfriend and go get ready to fight.”

“But he’s so adorable!” Two exclaimed, and she laughed when Jakob gave her a cool, unimpressed look. “Fine, I’m going. I’m going!”

She changed in the locker room, taking a few minutes to stretch before returning. She felt good –confident in her abilities, in her training, and in what Naomi had once phrased as her ‘utterly perplexing indestructibility.’ In a way, Two was looking forward to the opportunity to defeat Takahashi for the second time and prove that her first win was no fluke.

By the time she arrived, Mike was already standing inside the ring, shirtless, leather bands wrapped around his wrists and neck. He watched as Two stepped through the ropes and smiled when she looked up at him.

“I think I’ve got you this time,” he said, and Two felt herself reacting to the confidence in his voice. She forced herself to take a breath before responding and gave him a derisive smile.

“Big talk from the guy who ended the last fight on his back.”

“Everyone has a bad day.”

“Well, get ready to have another,” Two said.

“Guess we’ll see,” Mike replied. He closed his eyes and stretched his arms out above him, tilting his head from side to side, then opened them and drew his sword. “You ready?”

Two glanced over to her left and saw Theroen in the stands. Jakob was sitting to his left, looking severe, and Sasha was to the left of him. She met Two’s gaze and made a twirling gesture with her hand: get on with it. Two laughed.

“Let’s do this,” she said, and she charged.

* * *

Twenty minutes in and both combatants were bloody, but neither was ready to concede the fight. Two had sustained the first blow, a brutal slash that began just above her left eyebrow, continued down across the bridge of her nose, and finished by slicing open her right cheek. She remembered hearing Theroen cry out her name as it happened, and the strange, simultaneous feeling of comfort and annoyance that his concern had brought to her. She had spun away from her opponent and touched her face, assessing the damage.

“Yield?” Mike had asked, and Two had laughed at him.

“I’ve still got both eyes …”

Five minutes later, she’d enjoyed the satisfaction of giving back as good as she had gotten, catching Mike in the left bicep, her blade cutting so deeply that she’d felt it strike bone. Mike had shouted in pain and anger, but had managed to avoid her outstretched leg. Backpedaling, he’d glared at her and announced, “There is no fucking way I’m yielding to that. I don’t need that arm.”

Two hadn’t bothered to answer, instead circling to her right, angling toward the arm she had hit in an attempt to make him switch his weapon to it. Mike had easily countered the move, and the fight had continued from there. Now Two found herself moving in a cautious semicircle, waiting for Mike to make the next move.

“You’re starting to piss me off, Takahashi,” she said, switching her weapon from her right hand to her left as he angled in at her. Their swords clashed together for a moment and both took a step back.

“Sorry, but I’m not losing to some midget chick who wasn’t even born when The Joshua Tree came out,” Mike growled.

“Midget chick?!” Two cried. “I’m almost five-two! Also, fuck you, I was three when that album came out. Also, seriously, ‘midget chick?’ You’re like sixteen feet shorter than my boyfriend.”

“Oh, here it is,” Mike said, grinning. “Here come the boyfriend comparisons. His royal highness over there can’t help you in here. Anyway, who says he’ll even want you when I cut the other half of your face off?”

“You cut a quarter of my face off, tops. Are you done trying to rattle me with your ‘witty’ – and I use the term loosely – repartee?”

Mike lunged forward, swinging his sword down, and Two ducked sideways, bringing her own weapon out in a wide arc that would have cut the hands off a slower opponent. Mike had already pulled backward, saving his wrists.

“You’re not rattled?” he asked, and Two laughed, shaking her head.

“Did you really think I would be?” she asked.

“Nah,” he replied, this time using another one of the feints at which he was so adept. Two found herself moving to avoid a blow that never came, and she was barely able to parry his next attack.

“Stop talking to him!” Jakob called from somewhere behind her, and she saw Mike’s grin widen.

“But he’s such a stunning conversationalist!” Two shouted back, and she heard Jakob make a noise of frustration.

“I think your boyfriend might be about to rush the ring,” Mike told her.

“Well, you did cut off half my face. What, you think I get by on my charm?”

“You said it was only a quarter.”

Two lunged forward again, executing a series of back-and-forth strokes with her blade, each of which Mike parried. From behind her she could hear Jakob shouting something about Mike’s left side.

“Shut up,” Two muttered. “Shut up and let me do this.”

“You’re not beating me,” Mike told her, and again their blades crashed together. Two thought she could feel the slightest tremor in Mike’s blows now, and hoped she wasn’t imagining it. For her part, she was not yet exhausted and found herself once again thankful for Stephen’s training and the maintenance schedule he had left her with.

“You know—” Mike began, stepping away from her again, but he never finished his sentence. At that exact moment there was a great, rending crash and the sound of metal against metal. Shouts of surprise were coming from the vampires assembled around them, and both she and Mike turned to see what was happening. Some sort of armored vehicle had hit the side of the building and pierced it, coming to a stop several yards inside. Figures in black were pouring in from the gaping wound in the side of the gym.

“… the fuck?” Mike had time to ask, and then a long, metal shaft came screaming through the air and hit him in the chest, throwing him backwards into the ropes, where he became tangled. He opened his mouth, perhaps to voice some sort of protest at this treatment, and instead of words a tide of blood belched forth, covering his bare torso in gore.

Two cried out his name, feeling suddenly slow and stupid. She heard another screaming noise and was dimly aware that one of the metal spears had passed only inches away from her left temple, its passage fanning the short strands of her hair. She turned in the direction it had come from and saw on the roof of the armored vehicle a sort of gun, already being reloaded and aimed at her again.

Acting on instinct, as she had so many times in her life, Two threw herself to the rough canvas, seconds before another spear was launched in her direction. Staying on her belly, she crawled forward and stopped near Mike, looking up and trying to gauge the severity of his injuries. Mike was looking down at her.

“I’m sorry about your face,” he said, and then turned away, coughing blood out onto the mat.

“No one cares about my face,” Two told him. She pulled herself to a crouch, looking around and trying to figure out what was happening. The gym had descended into pandemonium, vampires and black-clad figures clashing in groups, but at least the person who’d been firing the spear gun was no longer doing so.

Two stood up and tugged at the ropes, looking back at her former adversary. “You’re going to be OK, Mike.”

“You’re an amazingly shitty liar,” Mike told her, and she could hear in his voice that he was fading. Two could see that the metal shaft, pointed and barbed at one end, had pierced all the way through his body.

“You’re an amazingly shitty fighter!” Two snapped back. “Now shut up and … here, pull your arm out. Just … Mike?”

“Your boyfriend needs help,” Mike said, ignoring her commands. “Look over there.”

He made a feeble motion with his free arm and Two turned her gaze in that direction. To her dismay, she saw Theroen fending off three enemy combatants, avoiding their attacks, retreating backward and rapidly running out of space. Soon, his back would be against the gym’s wall and he would be trapped there with no weapon.

“Shit,” she growled, looking back and forth between Mike and Theroen. “Mike, come on. We have to—”

“Go help him,” Mike said, and he pushed her gently away. “Two … go on.”

She looked him in the eyes and could see that he was afraid, but also that he was ready. Mike knew he was going to die and had somehow, in these last moments, made peace with that fact.

God, please, I can’t do this anymore, Two thought, and Mike smiled as if he had heard this.

“Go help him,” he said again. “Go help … help h-k—”

Two watched him die, as she had watched Stephen and Melissa and Samantha. Aros and Abraham. Darren. Not yet twenty-four years old, Two had stared death in the eye over and over again, and here now was one more name for the list. Mike Takahashi, Ay’Araf, dead at an age that wouldn’t be considered old even for a human.

It wasn’t fair, and there wasn’t any way to make it fair, and there wasn’t even time to say something to mark his passing. That made it worse, and Two felt her teeth clench in anger and hatred for these people that had killed a man and not had enough respect even to give her time to acknowledge his death. She clenched her first around her blade and left him there, hanging from the ropes, and went to help her lover.

* * *

Two took the first without warning, unconcerned with what was fair or right or honorable. She stabbed the man from behind with her sword and, when he arched his back in agony, reached around with the nails of her left hand, sharp now and hard as iron, and tore his throat out before he had time even to scream.

“Get the fuck away from him!” Two roared, turning to the others. Startled, they spun for a moment away from Theroen, and he took the opportunity to lash out, punching the man in the side of the head. The man dropped to the ground, dead before he landed, and the woman’s eyes went wide in surprise and sudden terror.

“You can’t!” she cried, as if by not simply giving up, Two and Theroen had done something deeply offensive to her.

“Oh, fuck you,” Two replied, temporarily drained of witty responses, and swung her sword in a wide arc that caught the woman in the side as she turned to flee. Blood sprayed, the woman shrieked, and Two felt nothing, neither elation nor sympathy. There was only the anger, coursing through her in waves that seemed to tint her vision crimson, and a sort of mute despair that it had once again come to this, that she must see and do and feel yet more violence before finally finding peace.

Two pulled her sword from the woman’s side and kicked her in the back. When the woman went sprawling out before her, Two spun the sword in her grip in a smooth arc and buried it between the woman’s shoulder blades. She pulled it out and hacked forward, this time cutting into the woman’s neck. Again and again she attacked, becoming aware at some point that she was shouting obscenities at the body.

Theroen grabbed her arm, stopping her from delivering yet another blow to the woman’s corpse, and said her name in that same calm voice that she had come to expect from him. Two burst into tears.

“They killed Mike!” she cried, turning toward him, rubbing angrily at her eyes with the back of her arm. “They didn’t even give him a chance to fight!”

“I saw that,” Theroen said. “I saw them hit him, and I saw them miss you by mere inches. Are you all right?”

“Oh, I’m just fucking great!” Two told him. “Another person’s dead for no reason except that I was there, and people fucking die when I’m around. Other than that, my face is on fire, I just stabbed two people to death for I-don’t-even-know-why, and we’re probably going to die in here. Everything’s awesome, Theroen.”

“Good. Perhaps after this we can go for ice cream,” Theroen said, his voice never wavering from its tone of deadly seriousness, and Two gaped at him for a moment before sobbing and laughing at the same time.

“I love you so much, you asshole,” she said, and Theroen smiled.

“We need to get out of here,” he said.

“Yeah. Can you … what the fuck is even happening?”

She turned around and looked at the gym full of combatants. It seemed that for the moment, she and her lover had been forgotten. The armored vehicle had been driven out of the building, and with it the spear gun that had killed Mike and nearly killed her. Many of the remaining black-clad figures were pulling back through the hole.

“I think it must be the Children,” Theroen said. “I cannot imagine who else would do this.”

As Two watched, a crowd of the humans scattered, and from the midst of them emerged Jakob, wielding not one but two blades, covered in blood and roaring tactical information in the vampire language. Sasha was behind him, also shouting, her blade moving so quickly that it seemed almost a solid sheet of metal. The two Ay’Araf made their way toward her and Theroen, fending off attacks the entire way. As they got close to the ring where Mike’s body still hung, Sasha reached out with her prosthetic arm, grabbing Mike’s sword and flinging it toward Theroen.

As soon as she knew Theroen was armed, Two leapt forward, joining the fight. Theroen was right behind them, and the four of them quickly dispatched enough of the attackers to convince the rest to retreat.

“We need to make our way to the front door,” Jakob said. “They’ve already blocked the emergency exit and they’re holding the hole in the wall, but the front door was still open last I saw it.”

“What about the others?” Two asked. From the corner of her eyes she saw someone that she recognized – she thought it was one of the Janssen twins – fall to his knees after a blow to his midsection. Several blades immediately cleaved him to pieces.

“They will fight their way out or die,” Sasha said. “Jakob, they’re setting the club on fire.”

As soon as Sasha said the words, Two became aware of an acrid odor in the air, the scent of wood smoke and something else that she thought might be the melting paint on the walls. Indeed, the last of their adversaries were now in retreat, moving toward the front door.

“We’re not going to get out that way,” she said.

“I’m open to suggestions if you have any,” Jakob said. He sheathed one sword and ran a hand across his brow, leaving streaks in the blood that covered his face.

“I am unenthusiastic about burning to death,” Theroen said, and Jakob cast him a sidelong glance.

“As am I.”

“There aren’t any other exits?” Theroen asked.

“Not unless you can fit through a nine-inch drainage gate,” Sasha said. She was glancing around, as if seeking to prove her own statement false. Two could see flames licking at the walls.

“Where’s the roof access?” she asked. “Don’t tell me there isn’t any … this building’s flat. You have to be able to go up and shovel in the winter.”

“You’re right,” Jakob said, his eyes lighting up. “The access panel is in the utility closet in the men’s locker room.”

“What if they’ve thought of that already?” Theroen asked, but he was already moving toward the rear of the building.

“If they’ve closed off the roof, then we’re likely dead,” Jakob said, following him. “Personally, I’m going to hope for the best.”

“What about Mike?” Two asked, glancing back over her shoulder at the ring where her fellow competitor had died.

“He will burn along with the others who’ve fallen here,” Jakob said. “I would have it otherwise, but we can’t very well avenge him if we die in here. Two, we must go.”

“Yeah,” Two said, and after a moment she followed. “I guess we must.”

The door to the access panel was locked. Without waiting for suggestions, Theroen drew back his fist and punched through the thick plywood, reaching down to open the door from the inside. In another moment it swung open and Theroen withdrew his fist, which had gone dark purple from the blow.

“Oh, baby, you shouldn’t have done that,” Two said. She reached toward his hand but Theroen held it away, smiling.

“Need I remind you that you have an eight-inch gash across your face?” he asked. “I will be fine, Two, and it will be worth it if we get out of here alive. Please …”

Two nodded, turned, and grabbed a rung of the ladder. She hauled herself up and soon was rapidly ascending the thirty-foot climb, the others following her. At the top she found a trapdoor, its latch easily sprung, and she shoved it open. The cool night air touched her face, untainted by the chemical-laced smoke coming from below, but she waited for a moment, hesitant. No attack came, and so she took a breath, hoping for the best, and hauled herself up.

The roof was empty, occupied neither by other vampires nor by the humans bent on destroying them. Climbing out onto it, Two felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Whatever might come, they weren’t going to burn alive inside of this gym in the middle of nowhere.

“That’s much better,” Theroen said, pulling himself up after her. Sasha followed, and Jakob brought up the rear. Soon, all four were standing on the edge, looking down at the chaos below. Many of the Ay’Araf had made it out of the building and were still engaging some of the Children in the parking lot.

“We have to stop them,” Sasha said. “We have to—”

“It’s too late,” Theroen said. “Look, they’re retreating.”

It was true; the Children were pulling back, disappearing into the night. In a matter of only moments they were gone, and there was nothing but the crackle of flame and the groans of the injured. Two could see several Ay’Araf with minor injuries tending to those who had not been so lucky.

“Let’s go,” she said.

“They may be regrouping to make another push,” Theroen said, and Jakob nodded. Two glared at them both.

“Those people down there need help, and we’re not doing shit up here. You stay if you want,” she said, and without further word, she leapt off the edge of the building.

She had never in her life done such a thing, and was not entirely sure her body would handle the impact without anything breaking, but it did. The landing didn’t even take her breath away, and she was on her feet and moving toward the wounded before the others had even hit the ground.

* * *

“How is your face?” Theroen asked her, and Two glanced over at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the buildings flying past the Porsche’s window.

“It hurts,” she said after a moment. “I don’t mind. It’s … it’s not like I can complain.”

“No, I suppose not,” Theroen replied, and he was quiet for a time. Two watched the Newark skyline pass by.

After another few minutes, she said, “He was going to win that fight.”

“Mike?” Theroen asked, and Two nodded.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I would’ve had to cut an arm off or something. He would have fought until he fell down. He was willing to go that far just to beat some stupid fledgling chick who shouldn’t even have been there.”

“The Ay’Araf are dedicated,” Theroen said, his voice noncommittal, as if he already knew where Two was going with this line of thought. She supposed he could sense it.

“If I hadn’t been there—” she began, and Theroen cut her off.

“Then someone else would have been in that ring and he or she would be just as dead.”

“But it wouldn’t have been Mike.”

“Two, do not go down this path. In your life … in any life there will be regrets, but you cannot obsess over what might have been. There are too many chances, over the course of a life, and it will tear you apart. Your life will be longer than most.”

“Not fucking likely,” Two muttered.

Theroen opted not to respond to this, and there was another lengthy period of silence during which they entered the Holland tunnel, heading back into Manhattan. Two watched the lights flashing by on the tiles. Finally, Theroen spoke.

“It hurts you,” he said. “It is because it hurts you that I love you, because you are not callous or uncaring even after all you’ve been through. Because you toss sometimes in your sleep and call out Melissa’s name, or Samantha’s, or Stephen’s.”

At this, Two looked over at him. Theroen glanced back, then returned his gaze to the road, down-shifting and accelerating past an ailing pickup truck.

“I didn’t know I did that,” Two said.

“I put my arm around you when it happens, and you cling to me so tightly I fear that in your dreams, you are drowning.”

Two shook her head. “Not drowning. Falling. I’m always falling.”

Theroen nodded, glanced up at the buildings as they emerged into Manhattan, and sighed.

“Mike did not deserve to die, but it is not your fault that he is dead. Every day, people die who have done nothing to deserve it. Every day there are accidents, catastrophes, and deliberate acts of destruction that take innocent lives. Every day a solider is shot in the line of duty by the very people he seeks to aid. Every day a child is left unattended for just a moment – just the merest instant – by those who would wish only to protect her at all times, and she finds a way to die. The great, beautiful, horrible dance of life continues on and on, and we who might live forever still move to the same tune as all the others.

“You will not die of cancer, or heart failure, or cirrhosis of the liver. Your brain will not age to the point that it develops lesions that rob you first of your memory, and then of your dignity, and at last of your life. Still, you dance, just as every one of us must, and if tomorrow some crazed man or woman once again points a spear gun at your head and fires, and if the bolt flies but two inches to the right of the path it took tonight, you will die. There will be nothing that I or any of those who love you can do about it. That may happen tomorrow, but for tonight you are alive.”

They were at a stoplight now, and Theroen looked over again, meeting her eyes. “Do you think Mike would wish it otherwise?”

Two shook her head. “No.”

“If he is somewhere else now, looking down, would he be glad that you have survived?”

“Theroen …”

“In the days after Lisette was killed, I lied awake in the painful hours after the sunrise, wondering why it was that I had lived and she had died. What had I done to deserve that mercy? How was it right, or fair, that I still drew breath? How could I not ask myself these things?”

“Then you know I can’t help it. I can’t stop myself.”

“No, and I am only trying to guide you. I am trying to help ease your pain because I love you, and because it hurts me to see you like this. It hurts me to hear you say these things, to insinuate that it is somehow your fault that Mike is dead. It is not your fault. It is Tori’s fault, and the Children of the Sun’s fault, and the American council’s fault, but it is not your fault. You were merely there.”

“I’m tired of being ‘merely there,’” Two said. She clenched her hands together in frustration a few times, thinking, trying to put her feelings into words.

“It’s not just Mike,” Theroen said, and Two shook her head.

“No. Theroen, we have to stop this. We have to find Tori and get her out of there, and then we have to go on the attack. We can’t just keep sitting around.”

“I fear that words will not be enough to slow her down.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”

They were pulling now into the gated garage that lay below their building in SoHo. Theroen eased the Porsche into its designated parking space and killed the engine.

“No,” he said. “It does not. It just means that we should be realistic about the potential outcome, should we ever have the chance to confront her.”

“We’ll see her at some point,” Two said.

“That does seem inevitable,” Theroen agreed.

“Will you help me?”

Theroen smiled, pulled the keys from the ignition, and leaned over to kiss her on the left temple, well above the spot where her cheek had been slashed. Two closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“You are my love, and you are also my fledgling. You are Theroen-Chen, and if that never comes to mean anything to anyone else, it still means that you will always, always have my help.”

Two nodded, opening her eyes and giving Theroen a small, sad smile.

“I wish I was in the right place to thank you for that,” she said. “I wish I could kiss you and tell you how much I love you, and make love to you right here in this cramped fucking car, and believe that everything was going to be just fine …”

“But everything is not going to be just fine, and even if it was, you are not in the proper place to appreciate it. Two, I understand. Does that … I hope it comforts you.”

“It does, Theroen. It’s just so hard, and it’s not even done yet. Please put up with me.”

“Of course.”

“Good. You know what else would comfort me right now? Getting the fuck out of this car, and out of this shitty gym outfit, and taking a long shower, and going to bed. You’re invited to any of that. All of it. Interested?”

Theroen smiled, nodded, and opened his door.

“Of course.”

Chapter 10
State of Emergency

Five nights had passed since the attack on the Ay’Araf club. On the first of these, Jakob and William had held an emergency council meeting, open not just to members but to all vampires who wished to attend, in an attempt to analyze the attack and formulate a response.

The meeting had been long and quarrelsome, and while Two felt no joy at the sight, she recognized very well the look of frustration on Jakob’s face during the entire event. She knew what it was like to sit and wait for the council to determine its course of action.

In the end, they had decided only that they would need to reconvene. Until the next meeting was set, all other activities that might bring vampires together in large groups were suspended. Two had spent much of her time since with Jakob and Sasha in the small gym at which they trained. She thought that all three of them had a lot of anger to work out. Theroen hadn’t seemed to mind. He had brought his notes on the constructed vampire language and sat off to the side, studying. Two sometimes envied him his calm, his ability to distance himself, his control of his emotions. For her part, she could not seem to stop seeing Mike’s last, dying look whenever she closed her eyes.

The other vampires of New York had laid low, waiting for the next meeting, formulating their arguments and opinions. All had been quiet, and it felt as if there was hesitancy in the air, as if the entire city was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then had come the phone calls and emails, the announcement of another meeting with only two hours’ notice. As a result, only the official council members and a handful of others, perhaps two dozen, had been able to attend.

No one seemed to know what it was about, and William himself had shown up only minutes before the scheduled start, going directly to the podium and refusing to talk to anyone individually. They sat now, watching, and when his opening pronouncement came, it caught them all off guard.

“I didn’t know what to do,” William said, his voice hoarse and broken, and he paused, staring out at the crowd, as haggard and unkempt as Two had ever seen him. “I didn’t know what to do … so I called you all here.”

“Whatever it is, we are here to help you, William,” Naomi said, and Two could hear in her voice a slight, perplexed hurt. It was clear that she was upset that he had not shared his news even with her.

William sighed, shook his head, and stood for a moment in silence. Finally, he looked away from them, off to the left toward a gigantic, stained-glass representation of the Crucifixion, and spoke.

“They have killed Mother Ashayt.”

His voice broke on the last word, and Two saw his jaw clench as he fought against the emotions that wanted to swallow him up. There was a sudden rushing noise as the occupants of the cathedral gasped in unison, followed by a deathly silence.

“Oh, dear God,” Jakob murmured from four seats to Two’s left, and he brought both hands to the back of his neck and held them there, staring down at the floor.

Two couldn’t seem to move, could barely breath. The news seemed to have knocked all sensation from her body, leaving her numb and empty. Not even a week past the massacre at the Ay’Araf club, and now this? Ashayt, that being of such pure peace and calm, was gone?

“No,” Naomi said. “No. Ce n’est pas possible.”

“It’s very possible,” William said without looking at her.

“It’s not,” Naomi replied and then, louder, “it is not!”

There was a shrill note in her voice that made Two start, and she managed to reach out, touching her friend’s shoulder. “Hey, Naomi, don’t—”

“Get off of me,” Naomi hissed. “Get your hand off of me! She cannot be dead. William, your information must be wrong.”

“I wish that it was so,” William said, and now at last he turned to face them. “I wish with every part of me that it was so, but it is not. It was Tyler, her host in Los Angeles, who found her. He called me directly. He grew worried when he didn’t hear from her for several weeks, and went to check on her. He found her lying in her bed, stabbed in the side, her throat slashed. It … he said there were no signs of resistance.”

“They couldn’t have taken her by surprise, not up close like that. She must have refused to fight,” Two said.  Her throat hurt, and it felt like there was a hard lump there that couldn’t be swallowed. The idea that Ashayt was dead, that the elder vampire who had brought Theroen back and likely saved them all from death at the hands of Aros’s superior numbers was gone forever, was impossible to accept.

“Her story is told in the old scrolls,” William said, sounding like he might be ill. “She killed only once, her very first feeding, and swore never to do so again. It seems she followed this vow to her death. They broke into the bungalow, and butchered her, and left. She is gone. She has been gone for almost a month, and we only now know it.”

“Can’t we bring her back?!” Naomi cried, and now her voice was breaking as well. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, those animals … those awful—”

“With what would you bring her back, Naomi?” William asked. “Have you a supply of preserved elder blood of which I am not aware?”

Naomi shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

“No,” William said. “Nor have I. We’ve had our miracle for this millennium. He is sitting three feet to your left.”

Theroen looked uncomfortable with this statement but said nothing. Two took his hand, squeezed hard, and looked at William with a thin smile.

“Let’s not act like this is Theroen’s fault,” she said, and William shook his head.

“No, it is not his fault. It is the Children’s fault, and may they rot in hell for all eternity for it. We had thought her dead, only to learn that she was there all along, and now she has been taken from us. We have lost not only her strength, but also her great wisdom and kindness. It is terrible. Terrible.”

“Now there is only one source left,” the senior Eresh council member, Leonore, said, and Two could hear distaste in the woman’s voice. She forced her hands, balled into fists, to relax. Leonore was grating, but now was not the time to fight with her.

“That is correct,” William said. “Theroen-Sa is here, and he is the last. I do not know if there will ever be another.”

“Ask again in four thousand years,” Theroen said. “Perhaps by then I will have an answer.”

His voice was quiet and calm, as always, but Two could hear within it a deep sadness. Theroen had held great respect for Ashayt, as much for her pacifism and her love of her fellow vampires as for her age and wisdom. Two was not surprised that his sorrow at her death was audible.

“You plan on living that long?” Leonore asked.

“I expect to live through this night and hope to live through the next,” Theroen said to her, unperturbed by her tone. “Can any of us say more? Could even Mother Ashayt have said anything else? Four thousand years is a very long time, but each day was just another in succession.”

Leonore looked unimpressed but held her tongue. Two thought this for the best; Leonore was not well liked among the members of the council. Young and impressionable when she had come to serve as Abraham’s apprentice, she had taken on many of his beliefs about the superiority of the Eresh strain and had never learned to conceal her lust for power and advancement.

Lewis, one of the two Burilgi on the council, spoke up. “Listen, we have to do something. The Children aren’t going to stop. They’re going to keep hitting us until we respond, or until we’re all dead.”

There were murmurs of agreement at this. The council had already lost four members, all of them Ay’Araf. Three were dead. The last, Erik Jannsen, had resigned after the death of his brother.

“None of us wish to sit here, inactive, while they whittle us down,” Jakob said.

“The question is, what can be done?” William asked. “We have men and women – talented people – out hunting for information, and yet we’ve learned so little.”

“There is no one left to learn from,” said Peter Markham, one of the senior Ay’Araf councilmembers. “Their field operatives have all withdrawn. There are few leads to follow at the moment, but we’ve been tracking their movements for some time. They are almost certainly based in the Midwest. Chicago seems a likely candidate, or Detroit. We will know more soon.”

“That’s good,” Leonore said, her tone caustic. “By the time we’ve narrowed it down, there might be as many as five of us left to debate our options.”

“Have you something constructive to add?” Naomi asked. “Or are you merely content to sit there making useless, snippy comments?”

Two looked over at Leonore, whose jaw was set as if to keep her tongue from doing even more damage to her reputation. The woman was raven haired, with dark brown eyes and pale white skin. Spots of pink sat high on her cheeks, an expression of her anger and humiliation, and her carefully-tweezed eyebrows were furrowed downward.

“She has a point,” Two said.

“Oh?” Naomi asked, turning back to Two. “Does she really?”

“They told us they were coming. That’s what the attack on Matthias and his fledglings was about. They gave us their warning, and what did we do? We sat around. We kept on living our lives like this shit was all going to go away. It’s not going away. I was there, all right?”

“Two, I understand that—” William began, and Two cut him off, raising her voice.

“I was there, and Theroen was there, and so were Jakob and Sasha. Stefan Jannsen was there, watching as his twin brother was chopped to pieces right in front of us. Let’s be clear … this is not going away. They will hunt us down and kill us, one by one or in groups, unless we do something about it. We have to fight.”

“We can’t fight them if we don’t know where they are,” Naomi said.

“Then we fucking find them!” Two cried. She could feel her body shaking, feel tears trying to force their way into her eyes, and she willed them away. “No more of this ‘some good people are on it’ bullshit. We need everyone on it, every man and woman. Every vampire in this country, no matter how young or stupid, no matter how much they hate the council. We have to make them understand, and we have to make them help, or we are all going to die.”

She looked around the room. Jakob was nodding, Naomi had closed her eyes and was breathing deeply, and Leonore was watching with interest where before there had only ever been apathy or abject dislike. Two glared at William.

“They kidnapped my friend and turned her against us, and we did nothing. They abducted and killed a bunch of Burilgi, and we did nothing. They slaughtered half the Ay’Araf in the city five nights ago, and we scheduled a meeting. They murdered the woman who gave me my life back, a woman who hasn’t harmed anyone, anywhere, in four thousand years … they cut her throat and left her body lying there. We can’t wait any longer. We have to do something!”

William looked at her for a long moment, and it seemed then to Two that a part of him fell away. Perhaps it was a slight slump in his shoulders, or just the look in his eyes, but some of the leadership he had possessed since she first met him seemed suddenly to leave. When he spoke, it was in a voice that was old and weary, the voice of a man who had already tried to leave this behind once, and had been dragged back in against his will.

“What would you have us do?” he asked her. “Tell us, Theroen-Chen, what is your grand plan?”

“Set a trap,” Two said. “That’s my grand plan. Get every vampire in this half of the country together in one place. Do it every night until it’s too goddamned tempting for them to resist, and when they come for us we fight them. We take prisoners and we get the information we need, however we have to get it. That’s my stupid, shitty plan, but it’s better than sitting around and waiting for the inevitable. It’s better than doing nothing!”

There was a period of silence that followed this, and then Jakob gave a short, sharp laugh.

“It’s not a bad plan, William,” he said, and William put a hand to his face, rubbing her eyes. When he looked up at them again, there was a small smile on his face, and some of his strength seemed to have returned.

“No, it’s not a bad plan,” he said. “I don’t know that it will work, but it’s not a bad plan.”

He looked now at Naomi, who had opened her eyes again. She shrugged, gave him a slight, sad smile, and turned her hands upward.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked him. “Shall I tell you I favor diplomacy? Everyone here knows I do, just as they know that we have given diplomacy chance after chance. These people are madmen. Zealots. They have given us no chance for dialog, no hope for change. I would try to talk with them even now, if I could, but if the council no longer supports that course of action, I have no better suggestion than what Two proposes. What choice do we have?”

“There is always a choice,” Theroen said. “The question is whether we believe there is value in taking the high road.”

“Without a bridge, the high road leads around a corner and off a cliff,” Jakob told him. Theroen shrugged.

“If we continue to gather in numbers, then yes, it most certainly does. I was there with you, Jakob. I know what they are capable of. I am simply not convinced that an all-out battle can end in success.”

“So, what then?” Sasha asked him. “We skulk in the dark on the fringes like the vermin we’re so often portrayed as? I will not live like a rat.”

“No one is asking you to,” Theroen said.

“I would rather follow Two’s plan and at least have an end,” Sasha continued.

“Such a surprise … an Ay’Araf wishing to go out in a blaze of glory,” Naomi said, and Two heard in her voice the acidity that she knew the woman behind the politician was sometimes capable of.

“Almost as surprising as an Ashayt wishing to hide from a fight at all costs!” Sasha spat back, and voices rose. For a moment, Two thought the council would again descend into a lengthy session of useless, pointless bickering, but William brought his hand down on the podium with a flat cracking sound that quieted the assembled vampires.

“If we have to move to a system where we raise our hands to speak, as if this were primary school, then we will,” he said. “Let us try to keep things civil.”

Naomi took a breath and forced herself to relax. “My apologies, Sasha.”

The Ay’Araf woman blew air out through pursed lips and nodded. “Mine as well. It has been a difficult week.”

“It’s lovely that we’re all friends again,” Leonore said, “but I think … I suggest that we should give careful consideration to Two’s ideas.”

There was a moment of not-quite-stunned silence at this, and Two thought it might have been the first time since Abraham’s death that Leonore had chosen to endorse anything whatsoever put forth by another council member. Two covered a small smile under her hand, cleared her throat, and spoke.

“Look, I haven’t thought this out,” she said. “I don’t have some awesome, step-by-step agenda, but we need information right now. We’re not getting it through scouting and poking around, and meanwhile they’re picking us off. If they get rid of the council, can you imagine how easy it will be for them to start wiping out people like the Burilgi? Uh … no offense, Lewis and Richard.”

“None taken,” Richard said.

Lewis only laughed. “Hard to take offense when you’re right.”

Two continued. “So if the council falls, then what? Sure, there are a few others out there, vampires like Tyler out in LA who are old and strong but not on the council … but there can’t be that many of them.”

“A dozen, at most, over the age of one hundred,” Jakob said, and from his post at the podium William nodded.

“Most of the elder vampires in this country are gathered at this cathedral,” he said.

“Right, and if the Children can take on a club full of angry Ay’Araf fighters, I’m pretty sure they can handle Tyler-from-LA. If we don’t do something now … I mean …”

“If we don’t do something now, we’re looking at genocide,” Jakob finished for her. “Two is absolutely correct.”

“Could we perhaps entreat the Europeans to help?” Peter Markham asked. “And the South Americans?”

Naomi stirred, speaking up. “I sent an email to Eadwyn the night after we heard Matthias’s story. He expressed his sympathies but said that the European council, while a governing body, did not control an army and had little aid to give. Perhaps if we contacted them again and explained the severity of the case … surely they cannot ignore Mother Ashayt’s murder!”

“I think that would be wise,” William said. “I will contact them directly, Naomi. I do not doubt that Eadwyn took your initial request seriously, but as the head of the council, I should have made the contact in the first place. What of the South Americans?”

Here, Naomi hesitated. “They are … I am sure they would send aid if they could, but the South American vampire population is mostly Burilgi and, much like the Burilgi in this country, not involved with their council.”

“We’re making in-roads there,” Richard commented.

“Yes, of course,” Naomi said. “We all appreciate the work you and Lewis have been doing on the council’s behalf. Yet we are out of time, and it is safe to say that the vast majority of Burilgi vampires in both countries would be hesitant, at best, to come to our aid. It will take time to convince even those who favor our laws.”

“We don’t have a ton of time,” Two said. “Even if the European council agreed to help us tomorrow, it will take weeks to get enough people over here to make much of a difference. I don’t think we can count on the Children waiting that long.”

“We have to go on the attack,” Jakob said.

“Or fortify our defenses,” Theroen said. Two could hear in his voice a sort of general distaste, as if neither option really appealed to him.

“That is the crux of it, then,” William said. “We have two options available to us. The first is to mount an offensive – Two has suggested one way in which we might accomplish this. The other is to attempt to improve our safety while we work on increasing our numbers. Can we all agree that these are the two most logical courses of action?”

There were murmurs of assent from the crowd, and William nodded.

“Very well,” he said. “I suggest you all refresh your drinks and take a few moments to gather your thoughts. This promises to be a lengthy decision process.”

* * *

“I don’t really understand what the European council is supposed to do for us,” Two said. She was standing near the Cathedral’s main entrance, sipping on a glass of warm blood laced with anticoagulants. With her were Theroen, Jakob, and Sasha. Naomi was talking with William not far away, and she glanced over when she heard Two’s remark, but opted not to address it.

“There are many Ay’Araf in Europe,” Jakob said. “If the council there can mobilize them, it would give us a much larger fighting force.”

“No, I get that,” Two said. “But we still have to get them organized, get them over here, and then once we have them we have to do something with them. Otherwise it’s just more time and more chances for the Children to pick us off.”

“That’s a good point. You should make it during the debates instead of when you’re standing with three people who are already on your side,” Sasha said. She was holding a small glass of vodka and ice, its sides sweating tiny beads of condensation, with the silicone fingers of her prosthetic hand. Two found herself fighting between fascination and the desire to not stare.

“Not quite three,” Theroen said. “I am still … undecided.”

“Theroen’s a lover, not a fighter,” Two said.

“Mostly what I am is a distanced observer,” Theroen said. “Vampire politics, or at least the pretense thereof, murdered my first love. I spent the next three hundred and fifty years listening to Abraham explain how the council was merely an entity he manipulated in order to stay in power. My sister Melissa and I … we did what we wanted. We didn’t concern ourselves with the council and whatever nonsense it was up to.”

An uncomfortable silence followed this statement, and Theroen glanced around, startled, before shaking his head.

“My apologies,” he said. “That came out extremely poorly. I did not mean to insinuate that this council’s doings were nonsense. What I meant is that we had been raised to think of vampire politics as nonsense. That was our mindset, and our failing, not yours.”

“No harm done,” Jakob said, and grinned. “Your sire led us to believe that his children – the ones who weren’t feral animals, at any rate – were decadent fops incapable of grasping the intricacies of council politics and vampire law.”

Theroen sipped at his glass of wine, sighed, shook his head. “Abraham was a practiced liar.”

“He was an asshole,” Two said. “But my point is that it doesn’t matter if we get ten thousand people here to help. If we don’t know where or when the attacks are going to happen, then at best it’s a standoff. At worst, they keep killing us off in bits and pieces.”

“Exactly right,” Jakob said.

“So if I’m right, why is this going to be such a long discussion?”

“Your own lover is not yet convinced. I do not think he and Naomi are the only two here who have doubts about trying to take the fight to the Children by goading them into attacking us as a group. Just because there are many Ay’Araf on the council does not mean they will all support the most aggressive option by default. We will need to convince them, especially with all these others here watching.”

“I don’t know what to tell them that I haven’t already. Seems pretty convincing to me.”

“That won’t be enough,” Sasha said. “Naomi has tremendous skill as a debater. She will make strong points while simultaneously weakening your own. If you wish to defeat her, you—”

“Whoah, wait, when did this become all about me fighting with Naomi?”

“Roughly half an hour ago,” Jakob said with a small smile. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”

“Apparently not,” Two said. “Look, if Naomi is right about diplomacy being the better approach, then she’s right. I’m not going to fight with her.”

“Is she right?” Sasha asked.

“No. Diplomacy’s not going to work. They want to wipe us out.”

Sasha shrugged. “So fight with her. That’s what the council is about, Two. A few thousand years ago, this would have been settled with one of you chopping the other’s head off and claiming her lands as your own. The council offers a less violent solution. Even under Abraham, some amount of debate was encouraged.”

“I’ll say what I have to say,” Two said. “But I’m not getting dragged into hours of debate. I won’t. Stephen’s ashes would come back to life, rise up out of the ocean, and strangle me.”

“He did seem to appreciate your lack of enthusiasm for the council’s methods,” Jakob said.

“I don’t have a lot of patience for bullshit.”

“It’s not all bullshit,” Theroen said. “Debate is a valuable tool. While I share your enthusiasm for gathering more information, Two, I fear that grouping together in an attempt to set a trap will result in heavy losses even if successful.”

“Heavy’s better than total,” Two replied.

“Academically, yes. In practice it’s hard to appreciate the rationale as your friends are dying around you.”

“I know that. I just don’t think we have a choice.”

Theroen shrugged. “It should still be discussed.”

“It will. I told you I’d say what I have to say, and so will everyone else. Probably for hours. I don’t control the council, hon. Pretty much the exact opposite … I’m the youngest member by like sixty years.”

Theroen smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. “It will be fine.”

Two saw that William was headed again for the podium and that some of the other vampires had already taken their seats. She was about to suggest that they do the same when she heard a voice from outside the cathedral’s main door say, “OK, do it,” and realized – only an instant before the entire cathedral was thrown into smoking, flaming chaos – that Theroen was wrong.

Nothing, as it turned out, was going to be fine.

Chapter 11
In Ashes, Underground

The blast killed two members of the council instantly; it could have been argued, afterward, that they had been lucky. A senior Ashayt councilmember named Samuel was standing close to the floor-to-ceiling stained-glass window on the cathedral’s eastern wall, and when the bomb outside of it exploded, the resulting glass-laced shockwave tore his body to pieces. Peter Markham, too, was caught in a blast – this one coming from the cathedral’s main entrance. The massive oak doors blew inward, pummeling him with huge chunks of heavy wood, and the force of the concussion flung him the length of the chamber, where he landed in a broken heap near the speaker’s podium.

Two, also near the main entrance but not directly in the path of the explosion, was thrown against Theroen, and they landed in a tangle on the stone floor by the table full of wine and blood. As the ringing in her ears subsided, she first heard someone – she thought it was Kanene – screaming Peter’s name. Then she heard a woman’s voice call out the opening words of the battle.

“Ten minutes! Kill as many bats as you can.”

Bats? Two thought, feeling slow and stupid as she tried to disentangle her limbs from Theroen’s. Are they serious with that shit?

There were two more explosions, one from above them that caused glass to rain down into the cathedral, and another from the depths of the administrative wing. Two could hear the sound of footsteps as combatants flooded the building, the noise far too close for her liking.

We’re going to die right here if we don’t get up, she thought, and the resulting bolt of adrenaline that coursed through her body helped to clear her mind. She pulled her leg out from under Theroen’s, rolled sideways and up on to her knees, and looked up in time to see the first black-clad figure come rushing at her, a gun in one hand and a sword in the other.

Allowing instinct to take over, Two reached out and grabbed one of the bottles of expensive wine that had fallen from the table. She cocked her arm back and hurled it at the man with all of her strength. The throw was awkward, delivered as it was from her knees, but luck was with her. Rather than bouncing off the man’s padded chest, the bottle crashed into his kneecap and he howled in pain and surprise, losing his footing and falling to the ground.

Two took the opportunity to haul herself to her feet. Beside her, Theroen was doing the same.

“This is fucking bad,” she said, looking around. Smoke had filled the upper half of the cathedral already; beyond the explosions, several areas of the building were now on fire. Groups of vampires were engaging with the Children’s forces, and Two could hear the clash of metal on metal and the occasional gunshot. Someone shrieked in agony.

“Get back. Two, get back!” Theroen roared, and she felt his hand grip her shoulder and pull, hauling her backwards and swinging her around so hard that she stumbled and bounced off the stone wall, the impact knocking the wind out of her. As he did this, Two heard the flat crack of a rifle firing and understood that Theroen had probably just saved her life.

The man who had been running at her was getting to his feet now, and Two, recovered somewhat from the crash against the wall, resolved not to let him do so. She dashed forward and swung her fist as hard as she could at his unprotected head. She heard his skull crack, and his body dropped again to the ground. She reached down, picked up his sword and pistol, and ducked into the rows of pews that stood on either side of the central nave.

“Theroen!” she shouted. “Get the fuck over here!”

Theroen came leaping over the top of the bench and landed with a thud beside her. He glanced up and said, “That’s my only thanks for keeping your head attached to your shoulders?”

“No, you get this too, here …” Two handed him the pistol, keeping the blade for herself. “Also, I owe you amazing post-trauma sex. Now, what the fuck do we do?”

“I don’t think leaving from the front door is an option,” Theroen said. “I suggest that we make our way toward—get down!”

They dropped again to the floor, and to their left a Molotov cocktail of some sort exploded, sending flames in every direction and lighting several pews on fire.

“This position is untenable,” Theroen commented.

“Seriously.”

“There is an emergency exit on the second floor, and a staircase that leads to it behind the sacristy.”

“The what?” Two asked, baffled. She had never set foot in a church in her life before coming to the vampire council.

“The holy storage closet,” Theroen said, pointing. “There.”

“Oh, OK. Let’s do that.”

“Yes. You go first. Keep your head down. If one of us is going to get shot in the back, I would prefer it be me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t! We should—”

“I am much older and much stronger than you, and thus more likely to survive if it happens,” Theroen said. “Two, this is simple logic. Just go.”

Two made a noise of disgust, turned, and began to scuttle out along the wall at the edge of the pews. They had almost reached the front when another explosion rocked the cathedral, this one coming from inside. Two could hear screams of agony and smell something like grilling meat.

“Was that a fucking grenade?!” she cried.

“I think so, yes,” Theroen called back. “Keep moving!”

Two reached the foremost pew and halted there, letting Theroen catch up to her. By the podium, she saw William doing furious battle, fighting an athletic black woman with long, braided hair. This must be the woman that Matthias had told them about, Two realized, but she couldn’t remember the name he had given them.

She looked very talented, and while William was old and quite fast, he was not a practiced fighter. He was having a hard time staving off her advances, particularly as she was using a sword and he was wielding what Two thought was a four-foot candlestick.

“We have to help—” Two began, and before she could finish, the woman made a spin move that would have left even Jakob impressed, twirling the blade around over her head and then driving it past William’s defenses and into his chest. He fell to his knees and the woman pulled the weapon from his body. Without hesitation, without showing the merest pang of sympathy, she cut his head from his shoulders.

A voice screamed from near them – a shrieking, broken cry that contained no words – and Two saw Naomi come stumbling down the nave, the right half of her face blackened and cracked, her clothes smoldering, her left arm pouring blood. She began to cry out a negative over and over again as if the word could somehow reverse what had happened.

The black woman glanced up at Naomi and also caught sight of Theroen, who was aiming his pistol at her. She dove down into the crawlspace behind the altar as he fired four shots in rapid succession. None connected.

“Damn it!” he snarled, and he leapt forward, intercepting Naomi, who had been racing toward the altar, and grabbing her around the waist.

“Let me go!” she screamed at him, turning and clawing at his face, but Theroen merely spun again and began hauling her back toward Two and the entrance to the stairwell.

It looked for a moment like they would make it, and then Theroen stopped in his tracks, looking up at the balcony above them and bearing his teeth. There was another harsh, cracking noise, and Theroen was spun sideways as the bullet caught him in the shoulder. The force of it threw him and Naomi to the ground.

Two heard herself screaming his name and turned to see a tall man with a dark crew-cut standing on the balcony, holding a rifle. He began to swing the weapon around toward her, and Two threw the blade she was holding at him. It flew through the air and hit the rifleman in the forehead, driving deep into his skull. His eyes rolled up and he dropped his weapon, then pitched forward and fell from the balcony.

By the time his body had landed, Two had already turned back, racing toward Theroen’s prone figure. He was lying in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood, not moving, and Two dropped to her knees next to him. To her great relief, she felt him take a breath when she put her hands on him.

“That was very painful,” he said, coughing as she rolled him over, and Two made a noise that was half laugh, half sob.

“I thought you were dead,” she told him.

“Are you sure I am not?” Theroen asked. “I expected that to be a head shot.”

“He hit your shoulder. Here … no, keep pressure on it … Jesus fucking Christ, don’t you die again.”

“I will live,” Theroen said, and he struggled to a sitting position. “We have to get out of here.”

“Yeah, OK, but use this first.” Two pulled her thin leather belt off and handed it to Theroen. She then tore a length of fabric from the black skirt she was wearing. She pressed this against the exit wound in Theroen’s back – the bleeding was already slowing, to her relief – and with his help used the belt to cinch it there. Once she was sure he was going to survive she turned to Naomi, who was lying on the floor, sobbing.

“Naomi, you gotta get up.”

“Fuck you,” Naomi said, her voice muffled by the rug into which she was pressing her face.

“Sure, yeah, fuck me. Fuck everyone. You still have to get up.”

“Leave me alone. I’m dying. I want to die.”

“I want a bath and a massage and a glass of blood, but that’s not happening, either. You’re not dying – and you’re definitely not dying here, even if I have to drag you out by your ankles. Get up!”

Groaning, Naomi struggled first to her knees and, taking Two’s outstretched hand, regained her feet. She glared at Two, tears coursing down her burnt face.

“Stop pretending that you care about me!” she snarled.

“Stop telling me I don’t!” Two shouted back.

“This is the single worst possible time to have this discussion,” Theroen said, putting his free hand on Two’s shoulder. He was using the other to keep the belt tight around his wound. “May I suggest we focus on surviving the night?”

“She started it,” Two muttered, but she turned back toward the sacristy, pushing Naomi ahead of her. They reached the body of the sniper and Two reached down to retrieve her weapon, putting her foot on the man’s neck for leverage.

Theroen and Naomi had reached the door to the stairwell just ahead of the rapidly encroaching flames, and stood waiting for Two. She took a step toward them and then heard a hoarse shout from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw, through the haze of the smoke, two figures holding off a group of Children soldiers.

The haze broke, and she saw that it was Jakob and Sasha, battered and burned but still fighting. Jakob had acquired a blade from somewhere, but Sasha had been forced to improvise; she was wielding her prosthetic left arm with her right hand, using it as a sort of mace and doing so with surprising effectiveness.

Instinctively, Two turned to help them, and she heard Theroen call her name. Looking back at him, she shouted, “I can’t leave them. Get Naomi up on the fire escape! We’ll meet you there.”

Theroen gave her a long look and for a moment she thought he would abandon Naomi and come try to talk her out of it, but then he clenched his jaw, shook his head, took Naomi by the upper arm, and led her into the stairwell.

“Sorry, babe,” Two muttered, turning back toward Sasha and Jakob. “But you knew what you were getting into when you picked me.”

There were six soldiers surrounding Jakob and Sasha when Two reached them. She struck one down immediately and killed another before he could fully swing around to face her. A third managed to parry her blow, but Jakob stabbed him through the neck from behind, and within moments they had made short work of the other three.

“Good to see you alive,” Jakob said.

“You too. Anyone else left?”

“Not that I know of. I saw Richard’s body but couldn’t reach it. Leonore’s assistant James was killed as well. Kanene hauled Peter’s body out through the hole in the wall … I don’t know what she encountered outside, but there is no chance he’s alive. Did you see what happened to anyone else?”

“Naomi’s burnt up pretty bad and Theroen got shot in the shoulder, but they got out through the emergency exit on the second floor. William … William’s dead.”

“Are you sure?” Jakob asked, looking stunned.

“Yeah, I’m … they cut his head off, Jakob.”

“Animals,” he growled, teeth clenched.

Sasha started to say something and began coughing instead, choking on the thick black smoke that was filling up the room now that the cathedral’s main supports had caught fire. Her prosthetic arm would take several minutes to reattach, and they did not have the time. She tossed it away angrily, still coughing, and picked up a blade from one of her fallen enemies.

Two could hear sirens, which sounded like both police and fire vehicles, coming from outside. It seemed an eternity since the battle had started, and yet she suspected it had been only minutes.

“I think most of their forces have pulled back,” Jakob said. “That’s a fine thing, but we need to get out of here before we asphyxiate.”

“Yes, please,” Two said. “I told Theroen we’d meet them outside on the roof. Come on.”

She turned to go, but Jakob put a hand on her shoulder and pointed.

“The sacristy is an inferno. The staircase must be as well. We’ve no chance of getting up there.”

“Shit,” Two said. “I don’t … we can’t get back up front, either. Fire’s too big. Any ideas?”

“There’s an exit in the office wing, if it’s still in a state to be passed,” Sasha said, having regained her voice.

“I chased two soldiers back there earlier,” Jakob said, shaking his head. “The exit is under a pile of rubble. But there is another way out. At least, if it hasn’t been compromised as well. Come on.”

He led them toward the wing that held the cathedral’s offices, keeping his head low in case any members of the Children with firearms were still somewhere out in the smoke and flames. Two and Sasha followed, and they soon came to a hallway that had lower ceilings but much less smoke. On either side were a number of plain, brown doors that Two knew opened into offices for some of the higher members of the council. One of them was William’s, or had been; Two supposed whatever was left of it when the fires were put out would belong to Naomi.

They were headed toward a T-intersection at the end of the hallway when she heard voices behind them. “Three more!” someone cried.

The trio pulled up short, spinning to face whomever it was that was trailing them. Two saw before her the black woman that had killed William – Vanessa, Two remembered suddenly; her name was Vanessa – along with three men. The one standing in front, just behind the woman, had long, dirty-blonde hair in a ponytail and several days of beard growth. Behind him was a stout, pale man with short, red hair. A thin man with tan skin and dark hair brought up the rear.

The soldiers were all carrying blades, and the man with the blonde ponytail was also carrying an assault rifle. As the vampires turned to face them, he dropped to one knee and took aim.

“Give the word, lieutenant,” he said, but Vanessa held up her hand, cocking her head and appraising the vampires.

“No, not without the Captain,” she said. “Not these three.”

“Whoever your Captain is, he has probably died from smoke inhalation,” Jakob said.

“What, just like the rest of us?” Vanessa asked, her voice filled with disgusted loathing.

“Sasha, sa etrome icha, vi na prave ocha,” Jakob said, and Two felt a momentary pang of regret that she hadn’t worked harder to learn the constructed vampire language. The words went by too fast for her to decipher them.

“Da,” Sasha said, and without further comment the two of them rushed forward. Two, apparently forgotten, was caught momentarily off guard and had time to wonder about the sanity of rushing head-on at a man holding an assault rifle. Then she, too, found herself moving, blade held high. What choice was there?

“Christ!” The man with the red hair shouted.

The lieutenant seemed to agree, rethinking her previous order. “Fire! Fire!” she shouted, and the man with the ponytail didn’t argue. He leveled his weapon at Jakob and pulled the trigger.

There was a staccato burst of sound, and Two thought it sure she would see her friend riddled with bullets. But even as the man had begun shooting, Jakob had leapt and dove, rolling on the floor under the weapon’s line of fire in a movement that seemed more befitting a gymnast than a fighter. Acting with a sort of liquid grace that Two had never seen him display before, he came back to his feet on the left side of the man with the gun, struck out with his blade, and severed the man’s hand at the wrist. The gun dropped to the ground, hand still attached and jerking at the trigger, and it fired a few more shots into the wall before going silent.

Jakob paused for the merest instant, and Two had time to think, Jesus … I never really beat him. He could have killed me in the first minute every time we fought. Then the ponytailed man began to scream and Jakob was moving again, swinging his sword at the man’s neck. It was only thanks to Vanessa’s speed and proficiency that her soldier wasn’t immediately decapitated. She parried Jakob’s blow off to the right, and his sword hit the wall.

Sasha, meanwhile, had engaged with both of the other men at the same time, fighting with only one arm but nonetheless holding her own. Two caught up with her, having swung in that direction to avoid the gunfire, and attempted to stab the red-haired man in the back. He spun at the last moment, avoiding her blow and swinging his own sword at her neck. Two blocked, stepped sideways, swung again. The man met her attack and stepped away from Sasha and her opponent, clearing space.

“That’s fucking honorable,” he snarled at Two as their blades crashed. “Stab a guy in the back? Fucking vampires.”

“Honorable like blowing up a church full of people without warning?” Two snapped back. “Or like murdering a woman who hadn’t harmed a fly in four thousand years?”

Two glanced over toward the others and saw that Sasha was still engaged with her opponent but clearly overwhelming him. He was backing away, desperately parrying her blows, but had gotten turned around and was actually moving deeper into the office wing instead of back toward his fellow soldiers. In another moment, the two of them disappeared around a corner.

Jakob was now fighting both Vanessa and the man whose hand he had chopped off. He didn’t seem to be struggling. If anything, it appeared that the two humans were in deep trouble. Two turned back, not willing to take her eyes off her adversary any longer.

“Looking for help?” the red-haired man asked her, and Two gave a scoffing laugh.

“Dude, I’m just keeping you busy ‘til my friends kill off the rest of you assholes. Then I’ll finish the job.”

The man scowled at her. “Keep talking, bat. Keep fucking talking. I made it through before, and there were three of you then.”

Two could see that he was tiring. More and more of his movements were focused on defense rather than pressing forward. Between her training, strength, and stamina, Two wasn’t even winded. She almost felt bad, for a moment, before remembering that this man and his friends had already slaughtered half of the council.

“Getting tired of this, buddy,” she said. She hazarded another glance over her shoulder and saw Jakob slash his blade across the throat of the man with the missing hand. His head lolled backward and the gash opened wide, spraying blood like a fountain. The black woman screamed a name – Two couldn’t make it out – but there was nothing she could do; her fellow soldier was already falling to the ground, dead. Furious, she redoubled her efforts against Jakob. Two turned back to her assailant.

“I am not your buddy!” the man grunted, parrying another of her blows. The motion left his sword arm high up in the air, and that was all the opening that Two needed. She leapt forward, grabbing his right wrist with her left hand to prevent him from bringing his sword down, and drove her blade deep into his midsection. The man made a choking, gasping sound and his legs gave out. He dropped to his knees, and Two let him fall, moving with him.

“Drop the sword,” she told him. “Drop it and let me stop hurting you. Even now, even after everything you shitheads have done, I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to. Drop it and I’ll make it quick.”

The man with the red hair glared at her for a moment, rage and hatred clearly visible on his face, and then something inside of him seemed to break. He let go of his sword and it fell clattering to the ground behind him. He seemed to be looking past her now, to some place far away.

“Celia, I did my best,” he wheezed, blood-flecked spittle coating his lips. Two had no idea to whom the man was speaking, but it didn’t matter. She understood the meaning, understood that he was making peace with someone who had gone before him. He was about to die and he knew it; she had no intention of making it any harder on him.

The man closed his eyes and Two shoved herself to her feet, pulling her blade from his abdomen and burying it in the top of his skull. The man’s body seized for a moment, then went limp, and he fell to the side. Two pulled her blade out and glanced around to assess the situation.

The fire had reached the end of the hallway now, and the space was rapidly filling with great billows of smoke. Two could barely make out the figures at the end of it. As best she could tell, Jakob had driven Vanessa back almost to the raging flames. It seemed that in just a few more moments, he would either drive her into the fire or kill her. Two concluded that he was not in need of any immediate assistance and that she should check on Sasha first.

Two was about to turn toward the hallway down which she had seen Sasha disappear when she witnessed a thing so remarkable that for a moment it stopped her cold in her tracks. From beyond the flames, through the very inferno in which she would have sworn no living thing could have survived, a figured clothed entirely in black emerged, leaping into the fray with two blades drawn and engaging immediately with Jakob, keeping Vanessa from choosing between death by fire or by the sword.

Surprised as much by the speed and ferocity of this new adversary as by her sudden appearance, Jakob dropped back a few steps. Two tried to make her legs move, to go help him, but it seemed as if they were locked in place. There was something about this woman that seemed inhuman, as if Jakob were fighting another vampire. Though she could barely make out their forms, let alone any features, Two was suddenly sure she knew exactly who it was that he was fighting.

The two exchanged a series of lightning-fast blows, each countering the other’s strokes masterfully, and for a moment Two could do nothing more than watch, fascinated by this display of awe-inspiring speed, dexterity, and technique.

Vanessa had joined in now, hacking at Jakob, and still he was able to fend the two of them off, moving in a tight circle and keeping them at bay. He was better than them, better even than the new fighter. She could see it in the exchanges of swordplay, and Two knew he was biding his time, waiting for an advantage to present itself. Waiting for one of them to make a mistake.

Finding her will to move at last, Two raced forward, muttering “Shit, shit, shit” and preparing to enter into a battle she wanted no part of. She could see now that the new attacker had blonde hair, which only added to the obvious. Before Two could reach them, however, the woman made a sudden slapping motion at her own chest, then threw her arm forward. Without hesitation, she went back to fighting, swinging her swords with savage intent.

It was only when Jakob staggered that Two understood what had happened. The blonde woman, this new and aggressive fighter, had something strapped to her chest – a sort of bandolier filled with darts. She had thrown one at Jakob and it had hit him in the right pectoral muscle. Whatever was inside, it must have been toxic. Jakob took a stumbling step backward, barely avoiding one of the blonde woman’s blows, and this gave Vanessa an advantage. She lunged forward, hitting Jakob’s sword near its base and knocking it from his hands.

Two cried out his name in fear and despair. Hearing this, Jakob turned away from his opponents, and she saw that blood was already beginning to pour forth from his eyes and mouth.

“Tenor, Ay’Araf!” he cried out to her, and these words Two knew. “Tell her! Two, tell her … please … she must go on. Tell her she must—”

Before he could finish delivering these instructions, Vanessa leapt forward again and stabbed him in the back. Jakob arched in agony, mouth open in a sort of noiseless scream, and the other woman swung both of her blades at once in a crisscrossing motion. With this stroke, she severed Jakob’s head from his body.

Two saw it fly up into the air as if in slow motion, eyelids fluttering, blood fanning out in arcs from the neck, and it seemed to her in that moment that she was observing the entire event from someplace very far away. Jakob’s head looped twice in the air, and Two could hear the patter of individual droplets of blood as they landed on the walls and floor. Then it fell with a thud, and rolled once, and lay still. Two screamed his name but even her scream seemed distant, and as it dwindled away she wondered if it had come from her lungs at all.

The woman was on one knee now, below the smoke, breathing hard. Two was under no illusion that the fight was over. Indeed, in another moment the woman looked up, staring at Two, and for the first time her face was clearly visible. Two felt twin bolts of recognition and despair run through her body as what she had already guessed was confirmed.

“Oh, no,” she said, and now it seemed she had returned to her own body from the faraway place that she had gone. “Oh, Tori, what have you done?”

Tori didn’t seem to hear her, and after a moment more she glanced at Vanessa and stood. The soldiers began to advance on Two.

Well, here it comes, Two thought, backing up as the women advanced on her, weapons held out. Guess I’d rather Tori kill me than some asshole I don’t even know.

There was no question of fighting with these women; if Jakob had been unable to defeat them, then Two’s efforts would be laughable at best. She could run, and she knew that in a moment more she would do just that, but to what end? Whatever exit Jakob had known about, he had brought that knowledge with him to a place beyond retrieval. Even if Sasha was somewhere further down the hall, Two didn’t think it would be enough; whatever Tori had in those darts, it swung the fight heavily in her favor.

Two was about to turn and run when Tori stopped in her tracks, the movement so abrupt that Vanessa nearly ran into her. She stepped sideways instead and stopped as well, turning to look at her companion.

“Captain?” she asked, but Tori wasn’t paying her any attention. She was instead staring at Two, head cocked to one side, eyes narrowed in an expression of confused wariness.

“I’ve seen you before …” Tori said, a note of surprise in her voice, and Two was so startled by the statement that she laughed.

“Uh, yeah, you sure have,” she said.

“Where?”

“Tori … what the fuck? It’s me! It’s Two!”

Tori was shaking her head slowly now, and she touched a hand to her brow. The expression on her face had moved from confusion to something that looked like panic.

“No, I … I can’t … why can’t I remember? What’s happening?”

“Captain, you probably saw her in surveillance photos,” Vanessa suggested, but Tori was still shaking her head, and she took a step backward now, visibly shaken. For one crazy moment, Two thought she would turn and sprint back into the flames from which she had come. Instead, she looked up at Two.

“Who are you?!” she shouted.

“Oh, Tori, what did they do to you?” Two asked.

The fire was encroaching on their space now, filling the hallway with thick smoke, and Two’s eyes were stinging. Her lungs burned, and not from the exertion of fighting. Something had to happen, soon, or they were all going to die from smoke inhalation. Vanessa seemed to understand this as well.

“Captain?” she asked, her tone uncertain, and Two doubted she had ever seen Tori behave like this before.

“For God’s sake, just … just kill her, Vanessa!” Tori snarled, and now it seemed as if she was afraid even to look at Two. She was staring at the ground, eyes wide and distant, as if searching back through her memories and trying to place Two’s face.

“Yes, ma’am!” Vanessa snapped, and without further hesitation she began again to advance. Two held her weapon up, preparing to fight, when she heard a voice calling her name. She glanced over her shoulder and to her surprise saw not Sasha, but Leonore, the raven-haired Eresh who Two had assumed was long dead.

“Come on!” Leonore shouted at her, and Two thought this was the best piece of advice she’d heard all day. Before Vanessa could advance on her, Two turned and began to run toward Leonore. She could hear the human giving chase but knew that she was faster, and was listening not for those footsteps but for a pair further away that would mean Tori, too, was in pursuit.

She had not heard that second pair of footsteps join the first when she reached Leonore, who grabbed her by the arm and hauled her around the corner.

“Where did you … what the fuck?” Two panted, coughing in the smoke. She wanted to stop, to look around and get her bearings, but Leonore’s grip was like iron on her arm.

“Secret door,” Leonore said, pulling her along the hallway. “Stop asking stupid questions and run!”

They passed a body on the ground, lying in a pool of blood, which Two recognized as the dark-haired man that had been fighting with Sasha. One of his legs had been amputated just above the knee, and a blade had been driven into his back where he had fallen and stood there still, pointing toward the ceiling. Two glanced up and saw that the hallway ended in what looked like a flat stone wall. They reached its edge and Leonore flipped open a small panel, concealed in the wall, revealing a numeric keypad. She tapped in a code, and from behind the wall there was a heavy thud and a section of it began to swing inward. Two saw Sasha standing just inside.

“Well no shit,” Two had time to say, and then Leonore grabbed her by the arm and yanked her through the door, past Sasha and into a long stone hallway. The Ay’Araf woman slammed the door closed and pulled on a large iron lever.

There was a clanking noise that Two assumed was the door locking, and Leonore made a sound of relief. Two leaned against the wall, coughing. The other two vampires let her catch her breath, and finally she looked up at them. The stone hallway was cramped, perhaps four feet wide and eight feet tall, but the air was clean and tasted sweet after the black smoke Two had been breathing. The only source of light was a small oil lamp that Two thought might have been sitting on its shelf, next to a supply of matches, since before the first World War.

“Guess this is the other exit Jakob was talking about,” she said, still coughing.

“Where is he?” Sasha demanded. “What happened? Did he get out through the fire?”

Free now from the threat to her life, Two felt the sudden weight of Jakob’s loss fall upon her, tears springing to her eyes. She looked away from Sasha for a moment, trying to compose herself, and took a hitching breath.

“Sasha, he says … he said, Tenor, Ay’Araf.”

Sasha looked back at her with a complete lack of comprehension for a moment, and then her eyes widened in an expression of shock and horror. She looked down at her one good hand, and then back up at Two, before spinning suddenly and advancing back toward the iron handle of the locking mechanism.

“No!” Two cried, leaping forward. “No, Sasha! Leonore, help me!”

She grabbed Sasha’s arm, pulling her hand away from the mechanism, and Sasha spun, shouting something in Russian, grabbing Two by the neck and tossing her up against the wall.

“Touch me again and I will kill you right here!” she snarled. Two grappled for a moment with the woman’s hand, struggling to breathe, but she could not free herself. Leonore was tugging ineffectually at Sasha’s left shoulder, pleading with the Ay’Araf woman to stop what she was doing.

“Not … what he wanted,” Two gasped.

“To hell with what he wanted!” Sasha cried. “I would rather die in that hallway than leave him there. Do you hear me?!”

“Hear you …” Two managed. Black spots were beginning to flash before her eyes. She forced herself to stop struggling and instead dropped her hands, looking directly at Sasha. “What a sad … fucking … waste.”

Something in the tone of her voice seemed to get through to Sasha and the Ay’Araf loosened her grip, allowing Two to take in a great, gasping breath of air that tore at her throat. She doubled over, coughing again, still aware that Sasha might at any point make another attempt to unlock the secret door but unsure what she could do about it.

“How dare you judge me?” Sasha snarled at last, when Two’s coughing had grown less intense.

“Because I was fucking there!” Two shouted, her voice breaking as she forced the words out through her constricted throat. “I looked him in the eyes as it happened, and he wasn’t thinking about himself. He was thinking about you, and he asked me to tell you, ‘Tenor, Ay’Araf.’ Forward, Sasha. He wants you to go forward. Opening that door is the exact opposite of your patron’s dying wish.”

Two looked up at Sasha, gritted her teeth, and forced herself to stop coughing.

“You can pull that handle now, if you want,” she said. “I won’t try to stop you again, and neither will Leonore. It’s your decision. Your choice. But it is not what Jakob would have wanted. Do you understand me? If you walk back out there, you’re going to die. Either the two people on the other side will kill you or the fire will. I guess that’ll fulfill your stupid, bullshit sense of honor, but what fucking good will it do?”

Sasha looked at her for what seemed a long while, several times starting to speak and then checking herself. At last she glanced over her shoulder at the door, then back at Two, and clenched her jaw. She took three steps down the dark hallway and glanced back over her shoulder.

“Do not ever speak to me of honor again,” she said, and without further comment she disappeared into the darkness. Two glanced at Leonore, who rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Two said, and Leonore nodded. She picked up the lantern and the two of them began to make their way after Sasha, into the dark.

* * *

“So, how did you know about this place?” Two asked. They had descended two or three stories, well below street level, and were now working their way through a series of chambers that Two would never have guessed could exist under the streets of midtown Manhattan. From time to time she heard subway cars passing, shaking the tunnel and rattling the walls.

Leonore had taken the lead, holding the lantern, and Sasha trailed them both, lost in her own thoughts. Leonore glanced back over her shoulder.

“Abraham showed it to me,” she said. “He told me that knowing about things like this … it always ends up benefitting you, if you live long enough.”

“Guess he was right,” Two said.

“It seems he was. I ran here when the explosions happened.”

“And then you just stuck around?”

“I kept the door open a crack. I was … I thought maybe some of the other councilors might arrive, and might have a plan. When I saw Sasha finish off her opponent, I called out to her.”

“Why’d you come for me? Why not send her?”

Here Leonore glanced back at Sasha with obvious displeasure. “She made me. She thought you were with Jakob and wouldn’t need any further help, but she didn’t trust that I wouldn’t just lock the rest of you out. The smoke was getting close.”

“Was she right?” Two asked, smirking a little, and Leonore looked offended.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I have a sense of honor. I’m just not a fighter. I’m not like the two of you.”

Two glanced back at Sasha, but if the Ay’Araf woman had been listening to their conversation she gave no indication. She was staring down at the floor, apparently content to let them lead the way.

“I’m not really a fighter, either,” Two said. “I’ve been playing at it, but I’m not sure I like the game anymore.”

Leonore made a scoffing sound. “You’ve killed an awful lot of people for someone who’s not a fighter.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“But you did it anyway. You didn’t run and hide, like I did. You stayed and fought.”

“I guess …”

Leonore stopped walking for a moment and turned to her. “Look … forget it. I’ve been trying to make myself ask you something since we were upstairs, but I’m afraid of the answer.”

Two raised her eyebrows but said nothing, waiting for the question.

At last, Leonore pressed on. “Do you … you don’t know what happened to James, do you?”

“He’s dead,” Sasha said from behind them, her voice empty of any emotion. She, too, had come to a stop. “Jakob and I saw the body.”

Leonore’s eyes filled with tears at this news, and after a moment she covered her face and voiced several sobs. Two waited, letting her get control of herself, and eventually Leonore looked back up.

“He didn’t deserve it!” she cried. “Of all the … God damn them! God damn them all!”

“I’m sorry,” Two said, surprised by this display of emotion. She had assumed that Leonore felt as distant from James as she had acted toward everyone else.

“Are you? I know what you all think of me,” Leonore said, shaking her head. Tears continued to crawl down her cheeks, but she gave an angry smile. “I’m just the obnoxious Eresh cunt that never shuts up, right? That’s me, and that’s fine, because I truly do not care what you think of me. But I know what you thought about James. You thought he was stupid, and useless, and you probably don’t care that he’s dead, but I do!”

“I never knew him,” Two said. It was true; in more than a year of attending council meetings, she had never said much more than hello to James.

“He was a sweet, wonderful man who never tried to pretend he was something he wasn’t. He just wanted to try and help other vampires. That’s why he said yes when no one else wanted to be my apprentice, after Abraham died. He just wanted to do something good, and all it got him was contempt, and now he’s dead. Now he’s dead and burned, and no one’s going to cry for him like they will for Jakob.”

Sasha looked up at this and bared her teeth. “Don’t even speak his name or—”

“Right, or you’ll kill me,” Leonore snapped. “I know. I fucking get it, you crazy, obsessive, one-note bitch. Why don’t you just do it, then, already? What does it matter? They’re going to kill us all anyway.”

Sasha started forward, her eyes filled with a lunatic rage that Two didn’t like at all, and so she held her sword out, placing it between the two women.

“No one is killing anyone,” Two said. “I’m the only person here with a weapon, so I make the rules. Sasha, I swear to God, if you take another step forward, I’m going to cut your other arm off.”

“I could take that sword from you before you even knew what was happening,” Sasha growled, but she stopped advancing.

“You go right on thinking that,” Two said. “And I’ll keep believing that I’m the one who killed the unkillable Abraham, survived the fight with Aros without a scratch, and is so far the only person to look Tori in the eye when she was pissed – twice in my life, no less – and still be standing. OK?”

Sasha stared at her a time and then made a noise of disgust. She turned to Leonore and said, “Just get us out of here.”

“Fine,” Leonore said, and she again began moving through the darkness. Two followed, with Sasha again taking up the rear.

“I don’t get it,” Two said after a few minutes.

“Get what?” Leonore asked.

“If you know everyone thinks you’re a bitch, why do you … I mean …”

“Why do I act the way I do?  I am Eresh. Not Eresh-Chen, and not yet an elder, but my bloodline is very strong and my sire highly respected. If his duties did not keep him occupied at all ends of the globe, he would have been on the council all along, and I with him. As it was, I was a very good apprentice for Abraham for almost two decades. I deserve the position I have been given.”

Sasha made a coughing noise that might have had some relation to a laugh, and she said, “Her sire might be respected, but he is no more well-liked than she is, and his duties keep him so occupied mainly because nowhere is there a populace he wouldn’t exploit for his own gain.”

“Oh, forgive me,” Leonore spat. “I forgot that I stand in the company of a woman of the people. Saint Sasha, patron of the working man, with her three-million-dollar apartment in Turtle Bay, and her hundred-thousand-dollar car.”

“I won’t deny my wealth,” Sasha said. “It has taken me decades of work to amass it, as each year I give the bulk of my earnings away. Your sire, on the other hand, has a yacht for every day of the week.”

“More than twice that number, if you must know,” Leonore said. “I fail to see how that should in any way impact my eligibility as a councilmember.”

Sasha didn’t seem to have an immediate answer to this. At least, she didn’t speak again. Leonore, to Two’s surprise, did not continue needling her. Instead she glanced at Two, eyebrows raised, and shrugged.

“They wanted to take it from me, you know … the council seat. There were suggestions that the council should reach out again to the other Eresh in America, the ones older and supposedly so much wiser than me. I went to Malik directly and made my case, and he agreed that there was no reason that I should not assume Abraham’s vacant seat and choose an apprentice of my own. I earned it. I deserve to be where I am. I say what I feel, and I’ve no interest in making friends with those who would have cast me out.

“I am interested only in influencing council policy in a way that will most benefit my strain. I don’t care if that makes the others hate me. They have council positions as well … let them exert their will as they can. The Ay’Araf have managed to install a near majority and were pushing for more. Do you think they would have acted in my best interest?”

“We were not pushing for more,” Sasha growled from behind them, and Leonore gave a short, sharp laugh but did not otherwise respond.

Two considered all of this for a moment and then asked, “So how come when I came along, you wanted me dead? I was an Eresh … part of Abraham’s line, even.”

“Oh, I’m sorry … was I supposed to pity the little princess who’d lost her prince? Who are you? Let’s be honest, you’re a junkie whore pulled from the gutter and made Eresh-Chen by a man who had spent the last four hundred years ignoring his duty to his people. He tried to kill Abraham, got what he deserved for it, and then you came along and threw everything into disarray. When you decided you wanted back in the club, you just tugged a few Ashayt heartstrings and had Naomi ready to give you the blood in but a few weeks. Then you show up at the council and want me to feel sorry for you? You’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter.”

Two felt her blood rising at this assessment, but she managed to keep her voice calm as she said, “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”

“It is what it is,” Leonore said. “Of course, your accounting of it would be different, but that’s just the thing. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. We both think we know each other, and that’s been good enough for both of us for … what is it, four years now?”

“Almost,” Two said.

“Did you want to be my friend, Two? Did I somehow miss that? Perhaps we should agree to be … how do the humans put it? … ‘BFFs’?”

Two frowned. “No, I guess not.”

Leonore nodded. “We will go on being whatever it is that we are. I am Eresh. You were once, but you aren’t anymore, and your primary concern is and always will be the well-being of your race.”

“See, you’re wrong. I don’t give a fuck about my race. If I never make a fledgling, and the Theroen line dies out because of it, I wouldn’t shed a single tear.”

“I see. So, I should like you because you are self-absorbed and uncaring?”

“No, I … Jesus. I don’t care if you like me. I just don’t give a shit about the strains. We’re all vampires and we’re all people.”

“How lovely for you,” Leonore said. “Just remember that every time you throw your arms around someone, it’s one more chance that you’ll be stabbed in the back.”

Two considered this, then gave a grudging laugh. “I wish I could convince you that not everyone’s an asshole.”

“Were that it was so easy,” Sasha grumbled, and there was a wistful note to her voice that Two would have, in other circumstances, found amusing.

Leonore had reached a heavy metal door. She stopped in front of it and turned to both of them.

“You can’t,” she said. “You can worry only for yourself and your lover, or you can worry for the fate of all vampires. It doesn’t matter to me. I chose my priorities long before you were even born. You do what you want. Anyway, we’re here.”

“Where’s here?” Two asked.

“Here is a long-barred entrance to a maintenance shaft, which in turn leads to a manhole, which opens up into a fenced-off section in the middle of the Ramble in Central Park. Do be careful, ladies … I wouldn’t want you to get mugged.”

“Good,” Two said. “I need to call Theroen. I left my phone in my purse, which I left up near the altar, so I’m sure it’s melted and gone by now.”

“I’m sure you can find a phone once you get out of the park,” Leonore said. “For my part, I am headed directly to my patron’s apartment on the Upper West Side – one of four in the city, Sasha, since I know you’re keeping track. He’s in Beijing this month, but he won’t mind.”

“Are we splitting up?” Two asked.

“Is there a reason not to?”

“Well, there’s the army of psychopaths trying to murder us all. Other than that, no … we’re good.”

“There is something to be said for safety in numbers,” Sasha said, and the tone of her voice made it clear how little she appreciated this fact.

“We all have people to mourn right now,” Two said. “I know we’d all rather do it alone, but I think—”

“Who do you have to mourn?” Sasha asked, her voice angry and filled with disdain. “Once again, you’ve come through free and clear.”

Two whirled on the Ay’Araf woman, sudden tears springing to her eyes.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she shouted. “Tell me, when have I ever gotten off easy? Name the fucking time! I had to stab one friend to death and shoot another in the face. I felt the man I love get torn away from me and went halfway around the world to bring him back. I lost Stephen, and I’ve practically lost Naomi, and now I’ve lost Jakob. Oh, what … do you think you get exclusive rights to grieving for him? Fuck you. You think it doesn’t hurt me that he’s gone?”

“He was my patron,” Sasha said. “He saved my life, took me in, gave me everything I have …”

Two wiped her tears away. “I know that. This isn’t a competition, Sasha. Jakob was my friend and my teacher but he wasn’t my patron, and I’ll never love him as much as you do, and I don’t want to. I’m so sorry for your pain. I’m so sorry that it happened, but don’t act like I’ve had it easy. Don’t you fucking dare.”

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, and then Leonore coughed.

“Right,” she said. “So … I’m off, then.”

“No,” Sasha said. “Two is correct. Separating right now is a bad idea, much as we would all like to.”

Leonore made a sound of distaste and said, “Have we a plan, then, or shall we simply sit in this passageway until the lantern dies? Are we to subsist on rat blood until the two of you decide it’s safe to go out?”

“We’re not staying here,” Two said. “I think we should go to my apartment. Theroen will be there with Naomi, and that’ll make five of us. Maybe the last five council members, for all I know.”

“What a lovely time we’ll no doubt have together,” Leonore commented, her voice dry, but she turned and lifted the iron bar from the door. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, we shall,” Two said. “We’ll need you to hail the cab. My skirt’s all fucked up and Sasha’s covered in blood. No one’s going to stop for us.”

Shaking her head and muttering, Leonore opened the door. Together, they exited out from the tunnels and into the maintenance shaft, and soon found themselves climbing up through a manhole and into a dark, wooded part of Central Park. Beside them stood a little-used gardeners shed, its door hanging partially ajar.

“Either of you have a phone?” Two asked. Sasha shook her head.

“Like you, I left my purse in the inferno.”

“I believe that makes three of us,” Leonore said.

“Fucking great,” Two grumbled.

They walked along a gravel path for a bit and came to a ten-foot wrought-iron fence with a locked gate that separated the maintenance hatch from the rest of the park. The top of the fence had been lined with razor wire.

“Not psyched about climbing that …” Two began.

“We’re not climbing anything. Stay here.” Sasha turned back in the direction they had come. A few minutes later, she returned with a shovel and approached the gate. It was held shut with what looked like a common bicycle chain. Sasha hammered at the chain with the edge of the shovel. Once, twice, and a third time before it snapped in half and fell to the ground.

“Subtle,” Leonore said. “At this point every rapist in the park knows you’re here.”

“You have no idea how happy it would make me to run into a would-be rapist,” Sasha said, and she shoved the gate open, tossing the shovel aside.

“Let’s just focus on getting the fuck out of here,” Two said. “I think that’s something we can all agree is a good idea.”

Neither of the other women said anything, and Two chose to believe they shared her views. The three of them set out into the Ramble, following its winding paths in the general direction of Central Park West and its unending stream of taxis headed south.

Chapter 12
Haven

Theroen and Naomi exited the cathedral from the second floor, climbing out onto a rickety iron fire escape that groaned under their weight. They made their way off the rusting, paint-flecked metal and onto the copper roof above the Church’s office wing. Below them the street was chaos, a roiling mass of gawking humans interspersed with the occasional black-clad member of the Children. Up the avenue, police cars and fire trucks were visible, making their way toward the scene.

“Oh, this is so … so blatant!” Naomi cried. “It’s as if they don’t even care about witnesses.”

“They’re dealing with that now,” Theroen said. “Look.”

Several of the figures in black had formed a line along the road, holding assault rifles to their shoulders. One of them cried, “For Allah!” and began shooting into the air. The bystanders panicked, running up the street, directly toward the incoming vehicles. The police cars in the lead had no choice but to stop lest they run down innocent civilians.

“Good God, that’s smart,” Naomi said breathlessly, watching as the scene played out below her. “They’re buying themselves more time and deflecting the blame.”

“This will be reported as a terrorist attack,” Theroen said. “The people in charge … they will assume it was al-Qaeda or the Muslim Brotherhood.”

“We have to get out of here,” Naomi said. “I … Theroen, I’m hurt badly. I think there’s a bullet in my left arm. I need blood and rest, and maybe a surgeon.”

“Naomi, I cannot leave her,” Theroen said, glancing back toward the door. “I … truly, I want to help you, but I must go back. If she … if they … how could I live with myself?”

Naomi turned her gaze toward the exit as well. “The staircase was on fire when we left. I do not think it will be passable by now.”

“All the more reason to attempt—”

“No, Theroen, you don’t understand. They won’t even try it. Jakob knows of the secret passage below the cathedral. Most of the senior members do.”

Theroen glanced over at her. “I was not told about it …”

“You’ve not been a senior councilmember for very long,” Naomi said, and her voice sounded tired and weak. “Please, Theroen … we’re not trying to keep things from you. We’re happy to have you among us. It just didn’t occur to us that the Children would be brazen enough to attack us as a group in the very heart of Manhattan.”

“No, of course not,” Theroen said. “This is beyond anything we could have anticipated.”

“The passage exits out in Central Park,” Naomi said. “Unless the Children have penetrated to the deepest level of our society and have access to information known only by a handful of people, there is no possible way they can have that exit covered. Two is safer with Jakob and Sasha than with any other vampires in this country … even than with you, if I’m honest.”

Theroen had a basic understanding of sword fighting and had for a time studied martial arts, but he was not even at Two’s level, much less that of the two Ay’Araf. He understood that what Naomi was saying was true, but he struggled to accept it. Leaving Two to her fate in the cathedral below felt wrong on every level. At last he gritted his teeth and nodded.

“Very well. We must get you someplace safe, then,” he said, and Naomi gave him a grateful smile.

“I’m not the only one who’s hurt,” she said as they began to move along the rooftop. “I think the bullet went right through you, but you lost a lot of blood, and I can’t imagine it’s comfortable.”

“It’s fine so long as I don’t move my arm.”

“And if you do?”

“If feels like someone is stabbing me in the shoulder with a hot poker,” Theroen said. Naomi gave a small laugh.

The northern edge of the cathedral abutted a row of several brownstones, the roofs of which were only a few feet above where they now stood.

“Can you make it up?” Theroen asked, and Naomi nodded. She reached out with her good arm and thrust with her legs, vaulting over the lip and up onto the roof. She turned and extended her hand to Theroen. His right arm had been nearly incapacitated, and he accepted the help with thanks. From there, they made their way first north and then east, putting distance between themselves and their attackers. Finally they came to the roof of a building on the edge of Sixth Avenue.

“We can get down there,” Theroen said, pointing to a fire escape. “I’m not sure we’ll have an easy time getting a cab …”

“We don’t have to,” Naomi said, heading for the fire escape. “My new apartment is just a few blocks up Fifth, on the corner of 62nd.”

“New apartment?” Theroen asked. “I didn’t know you’d moved.”

“Nobody knows,” Naomi said. “I hadn’t told anyone yet. I wanted to get away from the place in the Village. There were too many bad memories. Stephen and Thomas, and … other reasons.”

“It was too close to Two and me,” Theroen said.

Naomi frowned and began to descend, trying to avoid using her left arm. It seemed she had no intention of commenting on Theroen’s statement. He waited until the way was clear and then began to climb down the ladder as well. Soon they were both on the sidewalk, and Naomi glanced at her watch.

“Almost three. The walk won’t be so bad. Fifth doesn’t have a lot of bars and restaurants. There won’t be many people out at this hour to wonder why we’re hobbling along the sidewalk and not calling an ambulance.”

They walked in silence for a time, and when Naomi made a sudden, sobbing noise and put her hands to her face, Theroen did her the favor of becoming intensely interested in the surrounding architecture. Eventually she gained control of herself again and spoke.

“I can’t believe they’re gone,” she said, her voice hoarse. “William and Mother Ashayt. I can’t believe those murderous, hateful … merde, there isn’t even a word for what they are. Not in any language I speak.”

“They are like all zealots,” Theroen said. “Blind and unthinking automatons that run on faith alone. These people represent a particularly ruthless sect. If we are to survive, we may have to become just as ruthless.”

Naomi considered this and sighed. “I don’t know if I have it in me. I feel like … oh, never mind.”

“You can speak without fear of judgment,” Theroen told her.

“These past few years have hurt me,” she said, and in her voice Theroen could hear an aching, bottomless sadness. “They’ve hurt me badly, and tonight is … I don’t think I’ve even begun to process it.”

“You have lost much in your life,” Theroen said. “I am sorry for the part I had to play in all of it.”

Naomi shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” Theroen said, and Naomi made a scornful sound.

“I’m not sure I believe you, Theroen-Sa,” she said. “I’m not sure anything matters. So many people that I loved are dead, and I’m still here. Despite everything. Despite … no, I don’t think anything truly matters.”

“It depends on how you define it, I suppose,” Theroen replied. “To this planet, even our long lives are but the blink of an eye. Even the many years that Mother Ashayt walked upon this Earth are but the passing of an instant. In that respect, it is certainly possible that nothing really matters. Why, then, do we press on? Why do we not accept the inevitable, that endless blackness that came before us and will follow us when at last we go to our end?”

“Why indeed?” Naomi muttered. They were walking now along the stone wall that separated Central Park from Fifth Avenue. Theroen glanced over at her.

“We make our own meaning,” he said. “Each one of us decides what matters, because it would be unacceptable to us if nothing at all mattered. We could not live with ourselves or with each other if nothing mattered, so we choose.”

Naomi glanced sidelong at him and gave him a sad smile, shaking her head.

“You don’t understand,” she said. “I agree with everything you just said.”

“Then how is it possible you’ve concluded that nothing matters?”

“We’re here,” Naomi said, pointing across the street to a tall building faced in limestone.

“Naomi …”

“No. Not standing out here in the middle of the street, Theroen. Please. William is dead, Ashayt is dead, and the council is in ruins. I want to go home. I have a few bags of blood in my refrigerator and a bottle of incredibly expensive Burgundy in my wine chiller. I am going to warm two of the former, and I am going to open the latter, and I am going to drink all of them to the last drop. Perhaps while I do that we can talk. You are welcome to my guest room. Otherwise, I bid you goodnight, and I hope that we never again see each other like this.”

Theroen put the fingers of his left hand to his forehead for a moment, closing his eyes and considering. At last he came to his conclusion.

“I would be happy to take you up on your offer,” he said. “In truth, I do not want to try to make it to my apartment in this state, and I want to call Two as soon as possible.”

“We’ll make it four bags of blood, then,” Naomi said, and she started across the street. Theroen followed.

* * *

“She’s still not answering?” Naomi asked, and Theroen glanced up from the laptop he was hunched over, frowned, and shook his head.

“No,” he said. “But that … it doesn’t mean anything. She might not have her phone.”

“She might not,” Naomi agreed, and she sat down beside him on the couch. She was holding a glass of Burgundy in one hand and in the other held a bottle of expensive skin cream. As Theroen continued to scan various news sites for reports of the ‘terrorist attack,’ Naomi began to slather the lotion onto the right side of her face.

“Will that help you heal?” Theroen asked, looking away from the screen for a moment as Naomi sighed.

“I have no idea,” she said, “but it feels absolutely wonderful.”

Naomi’s face was already healing, as was Theroen’s shoulder. The pain there had lessened substantially after he drank the two bags of blood. He had wondered if they were depriving some innocent human of vital blood that should have been at a hospital, but Naomi had assured him this was not the case.

“Stephen got me started,” she had said, indicating toward the bags. “He insisted that we keep emergency supplies of our own blood. It’s easy, really. You draw a bit off every few days, and you have bags and bags of it before you even realize. It’s not like we used the refrigerator for much else, and if vampire blood has an expiration date, I’ve never reached it.”

“So that’s your blood on the stove,” Theroen had said, and Naomi had nodded.

Now she finished applying her lotion and leaned back against the couch, eyes closed. She took a long, slow sip from her glass of wine. Theroen picked up his cell phone, called Two again, listened to it ring, and heard her voicemail message begin. He mouthed along with the words:

“This is Two’s phone. Leave a message and if I like you, I’ll call you back.”

“How many times have you called?” Naomi asked.

“I’ve lost count,” Theroen said, hanging up the phone. He refreshed CNN’s website again. The explosions were mentioned in a red banner across the top, but no further information had yet been posted.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Naomi said. She opened her eyes again and looked over at him, trying to smile. Her makeup, on the half of her face that hadn’t been burnt, had run and smeared; she didn’t look particularly convincing.

Thereon gave her a tired smile, nodded, and said, “I’m sure you’re right.”

Naomi was silent again for a time, and then said his name, her voice questioning.

“Yes?” he responded.

“What … what is it you see in her?”

Theroen gave a small laugh and glanced again at Naomi, who seemed engrossed in the study of her glass of wine.

“Could I not ask you the same?”

“So she told you everything about us?”

“She kept the intimate details to herself, but … Naomi, I figured it out for myself on the first night. Your feelings for her were pouring off of you.”

Naomi made a sound of distaste. “Lisette always said your mental abilities were going to be amazing. Do you even need to ask me what I see in her … saw in her? Can you not pull it from my head?”

“You know I don’t do that. I can’t help picking up what people throw off, but I don’t go prying, especially not with my friends.”

“I envy your restraint,” Naomi said. She drank again from her glass and shook her head. “I envy your calm, and your surety, and your faith, and your strength. I always did, from the very first night Lisette brought you home. You seemed so controlled, so confident, even in that strange new place. I envy you so much for who you are, but above all that, I envy that Two loves you so much that it very nearly consumed her completely when you were taken away.”

Theroen paused, unsure how to respond. Finally, he said, “There is someone like that out there for you, Naomi. I am sure of it.”

Naomi laughed. “Oh, yes? How I have searched. I thought I had it with Andrew, but that only lasted nine years, and only half of those were any good. Nine years is nothing, for us. It’s nothing, and when he told me he was moving to Prague with Sofia, and that he would rather not ever see me again, he broke something inside of me that I don’t think will ever be repaired.”

“Naomi …”

“I’m not asking for your pity,” she said, and she smiled at him.

“When did I offer pity?” Theroen asked, and Naomi’s smile widened.

“You never have.”

“You wish to know what I see in Two?” Theroen asked. “I do not think my list would be so different from yours. She is a beautiful woman, despite her claims to the contrary, and to be sure I am physically attracted to her, but that by itself is not so large a thing. How many pretty faces have we seen, in our years? How many beautiful men and women could we have owned, if that was truly what we wanted?”

“An inexhaustible supply,” Naomi said. “I understand. So, then, what is the answer to my question?”

Theroen thought about it for a time, not because he doubted his own feelings but because it was difficult to put them into words.

“She is wild, and uncontained, and so amazingly powerful … and she has absolutely no idea,” he said at last. “She is only now learning who she really is. She was a victim of random chance, enslaved by a drug she never asked for and never wanted, and still on that night when I first walked by her in Brooklyn, her strength simply burned from her. That was what drew me to her at first, and there were many nights after when I would come and observe her. I suppose you could say I stalked her, really, but I could not help myself. It was her strength that drew me, but watching her, learning who she was … that was how I began to love her.

“She makes me laugh when I expect to be angry, and sometimes she makes me angry when I expect to laugh. Do you understand? She is wild and free and beautiful. She would kill or die for those she loves, including you and me. She will do whatever she thinks is necessary, no matter how hard it is. She will do it regardless of whether it might kill her. She is so strong. Funny. Caring and infuriating, maddening, beautiful and brilliant, and … and …”

He looked over at Naomi and saw that she was weeping again, though this time the tears were coming slowly and it seemed as if Naomi had not even noticed them.

“How could I not love her?” he asked, and he shrugged. “Did you not feel it yourself? You loved her within days.”

Naomi closed her eyes and nodded, laughed a little, sipped at her wine. “I did.”

“I do not have it in me to be sorry that I am alive,” Theroen told her. “I am so very, very glad to be here. But I am sorry that I hurt you, and that she hurt you, and that the two of us being together hurts you. I loved Lisette and I love Two, and you loved them both as well, and it is not fair that I somehow took them both from you. I know it is not, but I do not know what to do.”

“There’s nothing for you to do, Theroen. It is done.”

“Nothing that is still so clearly hurting you can possibly be called ‘done,’” Theroen said.

“The hurt can’t be helped,” Naomi said. She emptied her glass of wine and leaned forward, refilling it, and Theroen saw that she was near the end of her bottle already.

“But I—”

“What are you going to do, Theroen? You cannot make Two love me, nor would you do so even if you could.”

“No.”

“Then please, do me the favor of not pressing the issue.”

Theroen regarded her for a moment, feeling nonplussed. Finally he said, “Very well. Could you do me the favor of not trying to seduce my girlfriend in any more public bathrooms?”

“Oh, go to hell,” Naomi muttered, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I was drunk.”

“That’s a common excuse for a lot of behavior, but I am unsure that it is a very good one.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Naomi told him. She was looking away, out the window and across the treetops of Central Park.

“Then why did you ask about my feelings for Two?” Theroen asked. “Were you looking for some hint that she and I might be—”

Naomi cut him off. “No, it wasn’t that. You don’t understand. I know she’s yours. She was always yours. I spent the better part of a year sharing her bed, and she was still yours for all that time. It was maddening, but I assure you, I had plenty of time to get the point. The bathroom at L’Obscurité … I was drunk, and sad, and lonely. It was a bad combination and a stupid mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“Very well, Naomi. I am sorry I brought it up.”

“I asked you about Two because I was curious if she reminded you of Lisette.”

Theroen shook his head. “No. At least, I do not think so. One can draw similarities, of course, but they are so different. Two would never have sat and waited for Isaac to kick in that door the way Lisette did. She never would have seen her own end coming and accepted it without a fight.”

“Lisette sacrificed herself for our sakes,” Naomi said.

“Yes, and Two wouldn’t have, and it is not that I love her more for it, but rather that I love her just as much. Two would have fought tooth and nail until her last breath, and probably gotten us all killed. That is who she is, and that is not who Lisette was.”

“Do you think that was a failing on Lisette’s part?”

“No, though I do not agree with her choice. What about you?”

“I don’t blame her for giving up. If Isaac hadn’t come to collect her, Abraham would have done so himself, eventually. She knew it from the start, which is why … oh, forget it.”

“It’s why you blame her for contacting me in the first place,” Theroen said. “You wish she never had.”

Naomi glared at him. “Are you reading my mind?”

“Actually, I was reading your expression. Naomi, why are you doing this to yourself? Talking about Two and Lisette hurts you. I can see it.”

Naomi took a few deep breaths before responding to this. At last she looked over at him.

“If I asked you to do something for me as a friend and a former lover – and above all else as a good and decent man – would you do it for me?”

Theroen tilted his head, perplexed, and fought within himself the urge to pry into Naomi’s mind. Instead he said, “I cannot answer that without knowing what it is you would ask.”

Naomi sighed and nodded, as if expecting this. Without a word, she rose from the couch and walked to the hall closet. She reached up to the top shelf and took down what looked like a shoebox, carried it back to the living room, and sat back down on the couch with the box on her lap.

“I bought this a few weeks ago,” she said, and opened the box. Sitting inside was a six-chamber revolver with a short barrel and a molded black grip. “It’s a Smith and Wesson, and it’s loaded.”

Theroen stared at the weapon for a moment, feeling a creeping dread steal over him, knowing what it was that Naomi was about to ask without having to look into her thoughts. How long had she been waiting? How long had she known it had come to this?

“Oh, Naomi …” he said, and she gave him a hopeful smile.

“I want you to take this gun out of the box,” she said, “and I want you to put it up against my temple, and I want you to pull the trigger.”

“Naomi, please don’t ask me to do this.”

“It won’t be hard,” she said, her voice soft and far away. “We can go in the bathroom if you want, so it won’t make a mess.”

“That is the very least of my concerns,” Theroen told her.

“Are you afraid of being caught? If you use a pillow to muffle it, no one will hear. No one knows I have moved here. It will be weeks before my body is discovered. Maybe months. I’m paid through the entire year. Your fingerprints aren’t on record. No one will ever know.”

“Naomi, for God’s sake …”

“Oh, who are you to speak of God?!” she cried, turning her gaze back to him, brows knit, her whole body rigid. “Surely you of all people know that there is nothing out there.”

“But why?” he asked her. “Why now, of all times, and why me?”

“Who else should I ask? Who better than my oldest friend? We have spent centuries apart, but we also spent decades together when we were young and still new to this world. Forty years, Theroen. Do you remember them?”

“I remember them well,” Theroen told her. “Sometimes I remember them better than I would prefer. Lisette would never have wanted this.”

“I cannot think of a person with less right to judge me on this matter than Lisette,” Naomi said, and there was darkness in her eyes. “She gave up on us. She gave up on everything and left us to our fates.”

“You said yourself that she sacrificed herself to save us.”

“Yes, she did, but she could have fought. You would have fought, if she had let you.”

“I tried to do so anyway,” Theroen said. “Isaac threw me against the fireplace and nearly caved my skull in. What threat were we to him? If not for Abraham, I might never have had my revenge, and as it turned out, it was against Abraham that I should have been raging all along.”

Naomi sighed, shook her head, and said, “It doesn’t matter. Isaac is dead. Abraham is dead. Lisette is dead and I would join her. There is nothing left for me here, Theroen. I want it to end. I am so tired of being cold and empty and alone.”

“So you want me to put this gun to your head and shoot you. Naomi, I do not advocate this, but … could you not simply do it yourself?”

Naomi was quiet for a long time, looking at her hands. Eventually she said, “I am afraid.”

“That seems to me a strong suggestion that you are not yet ready to die.”

“No, you don’t understand. I am not afraid to die. I’m afraid that I will fail again. I … already tried once.”

Theroen was momentarily taken aback. At last he said, “You shot yourself in the head?”

Naomi shook her head. “I tried pills, first. A few weeks ago. I took, God, I don’t know how many Percocet. I lay down in bed, drank two bottles of wine, and took those pills. After that … everything is grey. I have strange wisps of memory, as if someone came and talked to me, but nothing concrete. When I woke up, four days had passed and my entire body ached, but I was alive. That was when I decided to move here and buy the gun.”

“Were you waiting for the opportunity to arise to ask me to use it?” Theroen asked.

“I didn’t plan on asking you until perhaps an hour ago. Oh, Theroen … if only you hadn’t stopped me from fighting the woman who killed William, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. She would have killed me, and it would have been you and Two on the fire escape, and you’d be fine. I’d be dead, and you both would simply look on it as a terrible thing that had happened, and it would be done. But you had to pull me away and save my life, so you get to be the one I ask to take it.”

Theroen put a hand to his face and shook his head slowly from side to side. Naomi gave a grim laugh.

“I thought about asking Two, first, but I realized she would never agree to it. She’s too young and stupid and self-righteous. It’s one of the many things I love about her even when it makes me want to grab her shoulders and shake her to death.”

Theroen nodded but said nothing. Naomi continued.

“I need someone who can be there to make sure I’m dead. That’s why I don’t want to do it myself. I don’t want to wake up and know that I’ve failed again.”

“Naomi … why? Why do you want to die?”

Naomi looked up at him now, and there were no tears in her eyes, no quivering lips or shaky voice, nothing that hinted at any sort of internal conflict. When her voice came it was steady, and calm, and laced with a deep and aching sadness.

“I am so tired,” she said. “I do not believe in God, anymore, but if I did, I would ask Him why He has turned against me. For all the efforts I have made, for all of the good I have tried to do since Lisette was stolen from us, how have I been rewarded? Time and again I have been given pain and more pain, in one form or another. If it’s not punishment from an angry God, then the only other possibility is what I told you earlier … nothing matters. Why continue to struggle against the part of me that begs for it all to end? Why continue to fight on, and on, if the only thing I am fighting for is the chance for more pain?”

“I don’t—”

“Please let me finish,” she said, and she favored him with another sad smile. “You don’t need to tell me how there is wonder and joy and beauty and love out there for me. The best I have felt in thirty-five years was during a relationship I knew was doomed within weeks of starting it. A few brief months of relative happiness, followed by torment at every turn. Agony, as I have watched those that I care about die or fade away, like you and her.”

“Two and I are not fading away,” Theroen said.

“Are you not?” Naomi asked. “Did you even realize that when we saw each other last month at the bar, it was the first time in six months that we had been together for anything other than official council business? We lived within blocks of each other for more than two years, and yet I saw you and Two only when it came time, every few weeks, to watch the both of you sit impatiently through a council meeting until we told you we had no further information on Tori. My reward for that news was a pair of disgusted looks and to watch you leave as soon as possible, to disappear into yourselves and into each other for another fortnight.”

“Naomi, we were not trying to hurt you,” Theroen said. “Truthfully, we were trying to give you space. If we had known …”

“I am not blaming you, or her.”

“But we—”

“It doesn’t matter. Every night I wake up and wonder why I am waking up. What is it, exactly, that I am hoping to accomplish? I want it to end. I am asking for your help. If you won’t do this thing for me, then just say so. I will find someone else.”

“I do not want you to find someone else,” Theroen told her. “This is your blood talking, the curse of the Ashayt, this sadness and emptiness.”

“Did my blood kill Stephen?” Naomi asked him. “Did it murder Lisette, and Mother Ashayt, and William? Did it steal Andrew from me or cause Arenne to hang herself in that shitty, rat-infested inn? Did it cause the fire that burned Patricia alive before her thirtieth birthday?”

“Time is a blade, Naomi, and it can cut deep. Those of us who live long, we all bear such wounds. You are not the only one with scars.”

“Am I to envy your strength for enduring them?” Naomi asked, her tone almost casual, staring out the window into the darkness of the park. “Theroen, do you remember the first night we were together? We shared our first time on November the twelfth, sixteen-hundred and nineteen. I still remember it to the very day. You held me close when it was done, and you promised that if I ever needed you, you would be there.

“Do you remember that promise? You thought me dead for centuries, but I knew you were alive. For three hundred and fifty years I knew it, and I never collected on that debt. I have never asked you for a single thing until this moment. If you would renege, just say so. Tell me that you will not do this for me and let me search elsewhere, but do not seek to change my mind.”

Theroen thought back to that night. The three of them had sat together, talking and laughing, Lisette and Naomi drunk on wine, Theroen sober, his young Eresh body incapable of tolerating the liquid. He remembered the rush of excitement that had run through him when Naomi had glanced sidelong at Lisette, her cheeks pink, a tiny smile on her face, and said, “I think that I am ready.”

He had never known why it was that Lisette had insisted he wait for Naomi. He had known only that the elder vampire refused to take his virginity from him, though he had asked it of her. Always she had told him that it was to be Naomi’s task. So he had waited, and at last he had learned this final thing.

He had tried not to rush, when first she had circled her legs around him, and shifted her hips, and helped him into her. Naomi had cupped his head, twined her fingers into his hair, and pulled him down so her lips were at his ear. “I am giving myself to you,” she had told him. “You should take me.”

Whether a command or a request, Theroen had been unable to deny it, and he found himself thrusting again and again into that warm and wet place within her. It was like nothing he had experienced before, and with Lisette and Naomi he had experienced a great many pleasurable things. Within moments, he had gone from gentle caution to something approaching frenzy.

He remembered struggling to stay aware, to not lose himself in the moment. As if in response, refusing to let him stay distant, Naomi had cupped his buttocks, pulling him against her again and again, making little gasping, growling noises. The air had been filled with the scent of her hair and skin, her sweat, her sex, the blood in her veins; this combination, this essence of her, had been maddening. Lisette had shown him what an orgasm was, and he could feel that need overwhelming him, but also something more, an almost violent desire to possess the writhing, panting creature below him.

With a last thrust, he had buried himself deep within her and, snarling, driven his teeth into her neck like an animal. It had seemed his entire body was climaxing, rejoicing as her blood washed through him. Naomi had given a cry that was half pain, half ecstasy, and dug bloody crescents into his back with her nails.

Lying with her after, exhausted and drenched in sweat, he had made his promise. He remembered it just as Naomi did now, and wondered how he had ever forgotten those words. He nodded, staring at the far wall but not really seeing; most of him was back still in that cramped and smoky, candlelit room.

Naomi, I am here with you. I am here for you, and if ever you need me, I will always be here for you. I promise you.

He looked over at the girl who had shared this thing with him, all those years ago, and it seemed for a moment that he could hear Lisette’s words, the first she had spoken since he and Naomi had begun, whispered on the breeze.

“Now you understand,” Lisette had said, and only centuries later did Theroen feel at last that he did. She had made them wait because neither had ever known the thing, and there was something for both of them in the learning of it. Something that would tie them together forever, even long after they had moved on from their time as lovers.

“Yes, I remember,” Theroen said finally, and Naomi smiled.

“I have always wondered why Lisette chose to give us that bond,” she said. “I never understood why she didn’t take you for herself, right from the start. Perhaps it was one of her flashes, a glimpse of the future like she claimed sometimes to have. Perhaps she knew that someday I would ask you to do something for me, and you would not want to do it, and that this thing between us would leave you no choice.

“That is where we’ve come to now, Theroen, is it not? If I press, you will do what I ask because you promised it to me almost four hundred years ago.”

“She can’t have meant this!” Theroen said. “She would never have wanted this.”

“And yet she locked you into your promise without knowing, because this has nothing to do with what she might have wanted. It’s what I want.”

Theroen closed his eyes for a time, considering this. When he looked at Naomi again, she met his gaze and even managed half of a smile.

“Will you not wait, at the least?” he asked. “We need you.”

“What, you and Two? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Yes, Two and me, but as well the rest of the vampires in this city and this country. We need you if we are to survive this plague that’s fallen upon us. With William gone, you are now the most senior member of the American council. They will turn to you for leadership. They will—”

“I cannot help them.”

“That is not what William believed!” Theroen snapped, losing his temper for a rare moment. “He thought you were the best of the Ashayt in this country, and that is why he chose you. How can you ignore that? Could you not sense his relief that soon you would take the council from him?”

Naomi seemed to have no immediate response to this other than a slight coloring of her cheeks. Theroen knew from long experience that this meant she was both pleased with the statement and too embarrassed to admit it. He continued.

“The vampires in this country are teetering right now on the lip of an abyss. If we make the wrong move, we will all plunge to our deaths. We need help. We need to rally and organize or we will all die, and what then? The Children will have America. From there they will spread to Canada and Mexico. South America. After that, they will set their sights on Europe and Asia, and even Australia. If there is a vampire in Antarctica, they will find him and kill him. That is what they want.”

“What would you have me do about it?” Naomi asked him. She took the shoebox with the gun in it and lifted it from her lap, setting it on the coffee table, and turned sideways on the couch to face him.

“I would have you lead. You, and Jakob, and …”

“And yourself?” Naomi asked, and this time her smile held a glint of real amusement. “I am not the most senior member of the council, Theroen-Sa … that honor belongs to you by almost twenty years.”

Theroen sighed. “Yes, true, but I have been on the council for only a very brief time, and have not obtained the respect that you and Jakob have. I think even Two – though technically my apprentice – is more liked than I am.”

“They like you more than you think. But tell me … do you truly believe there is still hope?” Naomi asked.

“There is always hope until the last of us is dead,” Theroen said. “Forgive me if I would avoid hastening that eventuality. Naomi, if I cannot deter you from this path, at least give us time to—”

“Don’t you understand that if I had swallowed perhaps ten more pills, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation? The council can proceed without me. You can petition the Ay’Araf in Europe. They will come fight for you, and you can spring the very trap Two was advocating.”

“You are either delusional or deliberately underestimating yourself.”

“And you are making excuses for not following through on your promise!” Naomi exclaimed. She stood suddenly and paced back in forth in front of the window that spanned her entire western wall, staring out across the park.

“Naomi, this thing you are asking is … it’s …”

“It is a simple thing,” Naomi told him. “You’re the one making it very complicated. I have lived four times longer than any human should. I am tired, and empty, and alone, and I wish it to be done. Theroen, I am begging you!”

Theroen felt something welling within him, a sort of wordless despair. He thought at first that Naomi must be using her aura against him, but he realized after a moment more that the feeling was not coming from her. He and Naomi could spend the rest of the night trading rhetoric, but it would change nothing. When the sun rose and sent them to sleep, she would still be determined to die, and if he continued to refuse then she would only find some other person to grant her wish – or eventually pull the trigger herself.

Jaw clenched, he reached out and took the gun from its box. He stood, crossed the room to where Naomi waited by the window, and brought the gun up, pressing the cold metal lip of its muzzle against her forehead. She didn’t flinch. He had wondered if she would, if she might give him some sign here, at the end, that this was not truly what she wanted. Naomi gave him nothing – merely regarded him with her big, grey eyes, and waited for him to act.

Theroen hesitated and Naomi spoke in a low, murmuring voice, never dropping her gaze. “Do it.”

Theroen felt adrenaline course through him; he meant to pull the trigger. A single twitch was all that was required, and with it he could take away her pain forever. Naomi was right: it would not be hard, and no one would ever know. Would he ever be able to forgive himself? Did any of it even matter?

Theroen drew in a breath, one he meant to hold as he shot his oldest friend between her eyes. At that very moment, his cell phone rang. Theroen’s finger twitched, and he very nearly squeezed the trigger and gave Naomi the blackness she was asking for. He managed to avoid this, however, and instead stood poised for a moment more with the gun at her head, looking into her eyes.

“Please,” Naomi said, but Theroen shook his head and pointed the gun’s muzzle at the floor. Naomi visibly deflated and, after a shaking breath, covered her face with her hands. Theroen moved toward the kitchen, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Chapter 13
A Port in the Storm

They sat crammed into the backseat of one of New York’s hybrid cabs, watching the street signs flick by as they rolled slowly through the congested traffic on Seventh Avenue. Two thought it best to stay between Sasha and Leonore and so had taken the middle seat. She would have opted for the front – normally something of a breach of etiquette with fewer than four people – but it was filled with stacks of old newspapers and discarded coffee cups.

“You girls smell like smoke,” the cab driver said.

Neither Sasha nor Leonore seemed interested in responding to this, and so Two spoke. “We were … at this bar, and it’s, like, a log cabin theme inside, and they had a fire burning.”

“In July?” the driver asked. “Cheeeesus Christ, like it ain’t hot enough?”

“I know, right?” Two said, warming to the story. “It was so hot, and our makeup got all runny and smeared, and there was soot all over … that’s why we left.”

“That so? And I suppose your friend back there fell into a box of tomatoes or somethin’, right?”

Two glanced over at Sasha, who was looking out the window. The Ay’Araf woman gave the slightest shake of her head, as if disgusted by the entire situation. Two tried to continue her improvisation.

“You ever been to one of those clubs where they give out body paint?”

“Sweetheart, last time I was in a club, they still called ‘em dance halls, and you could buy a pitcher a’ suds for about seventy cents.”

“Guess that’s a no,” Two said.

“Listen, I been in this city forever. Sixty-eight years, born and bred, and I seen every single crazy fuckin’ thing you can possibly think of, OK? I had people in my cab bleedin’ all over the place, people coked up out of their mind and rantin’ crazy conspiracy shit, people literally fuckin’ right there in the back seat … so it’s no skin off my back, is all I’m sayin’. But if you need me to take you to the police or a hospital or somethin’ … you just let me know.”

“Thanks. We … we’re good,” Two said, and at this she saw Sasha lean her forehead against her hand and close her eyes.

“All right, doll. Corner of Greene and Broome you said, right?”

“That’s the place.”

“We’ll get ya there. Some kind of fuckin’ church fire going on, with explosions and shit. Traffic’s crazy. This fuckin’ city, I swear to God … it’s always somethin’.”

“Yeah,” Two said, shaking her head. “It always is.”

The rode in silence for some time, the cab driver swinging in and out of lanes, sometimes gaining a few car lengths, other times ending up stuck, mostly coming out the same as if he had simply stayed put. It was par for the course for New York, and Two wasn’t really even paying attention. She was thinking about Theroen, wondering if he was safe, hoping that he and Naomi had made it far away from the cathedral.

She was trying not to think about Tori, or about Jakob, but was having a hard time accomplishing it. Her friends: one corrupted, the other dead. What terrible things had the Children done to Tori to turn her into this killing machine? The Tori she knew, the one who had been so excited to see her parents again, could not have been the same person who so willingly lopped off Jakob’s head. She could still see it, flipping through the air, eyes wide …

Two came to the sudden realization that she was on the very edge of bursting into hysterical tears, and she was unsure if she was going to be able to do anything about it. She wanted Theroen. She wanted her friends back, and the life they had been living for the past two years. The whole of what had happened seemed suddenly ready to overwhelm her, to swallow her up completely. Fortunately, at that exact moment, Leonore leaned in and gave Two’s mind something else to focus on.

“How are we going to pay for this?” she asked, and Two blinked away her tears, considering the question.

“I’ve got cash at my place,” she murmured. “Should be plenty. You guys can stay with the cab so he knows we’re not stiffing him.”

Leonore nodded. “Very well.”

“Jesus Christ,” Two muttered to herself, and let out a shaky breath of air. The last time she could remember raw grief sweeping over her like that had been on the day after Stephen’s death, when she had found herself on her knees in the shower, leaning against the tile wall, her body wracked with sobs so powerful that it had left her muscles aching.

“Hold it together, please,” Leonore muttered, and Two glared at her, but after a moment she gritted her teeth and nodded. Yes, she would hold it together, at least until she found a private place to let the grief out. She knew it was not going away on its own; it required some kind of release. Two wondered if it was the same for Sasha, and whether that release would be violent or not. The Ay’Araf woman had made no further threatening gestures since advancing on Leonore in the tunnels, but Two was afraid she might yet boil over.

Traffic thinned as they moved further downtown, and the cab sped up. Two was watching the street signs and when she saw Greene Street come up, she said, “Left side, please. Don’t kill the meter yet.”

The driver made a noise of acknowledgement and angled in that direction, slowing to a halt at the corner.

“Mister, I’m really sorry, but I left my purse in my apartment,” Two said. “I’ll be right back. Leonore, Sasha, you guys can wait here.”

“No problem, kid,” the driver said. “I could use a smoke.”

Sasha stepped out of the cab, letting Two out. Leonore got out as well, but leaned against the rear of the car.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “You two can go together, and that way Sasha and I don’t have to stand around and pretend to like each other.”

“That sounds excellent,” Sasha said, and began making her way up the street. Two glanced at the cab driver, who was also leaning against his car, smoking his cigarette. He caught her gaze and waved her on.

When Two caught up, Sasha glanced over and said, “Her honesty is refreshing, but in a way that makes me want to strangle her.”

“Yeah,” Two said.

“How are you going to get into your apartment without keys?”

“You’re going to give me a leg up to the fire escape, and then I’m going to kick in my window.”

“Security system?”

“Yeah, but we never use it.”

“That’s safe …”

Two gave a grim laugh and nodded. “After tonight, I think I’ll be setting the alarm anywhere I go for the rest of my life.”

Sasha came to a sudden halt, putting her arm out to block Two’s progress. “Do not look up. What floor do you live on?”

“Uh … eighth? Why?” Two forced herself not to give in to the sudden, overwhelming desire to glance toward her apartment. Sasha grabbed her arm and spun her around, leading her back toward the cab.

“Because there are at least four people wandering around your apartment right now, and a man on the balcony with a handgun. Next time, set the damned alarm.”

“Oh, are you fucking kidding me?!” Two cried, beginning to spin around without thinking. Sasha jerked again on her arm.

“Why don’t you just call them and tell them we’re standing out here?!” she hissed. “Two, we’re going back to the cab, getting into it, and telling your new best friend that he’s driving us somewhere far away.”

“OK … where?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Sasha said. They were approaching the cab now, and Leonore was looking at them in suspicion.

“Why are both of you here?” she asked.

“My apartment’s full of people with guns, and I didn’t invite them,” Two said, keeping her voice low. “Get in the cab.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Leonore groaned, but she moved quickly, returning to the back seat.

“Change of plans?” the driver asked from his seat, once all three of them had slid into the cab.

“Uh, yeah. Locked myself out. Gonna have to call the landlord tomorrow,” Two said.

“Sure,” the driver said, his tone amused. “So, where to now?”

There was a momentary pause as they considered their options. Two’s first instinct was to run to Brooklyn, to the home of her friends Rhes and Sarah. There, at least, they would find some kind of sanctuary. Then she thought of Aros, and the danger she had already put them in. What if the Children discovered that these humans were harboring vampires? Would they hesitate to break into the house? Two thought not, and she thought that if such a thing happened, this time Rhes and Sarah would not be so lucky as to be taken prisoner.

I can’t do that to them, she thought. I can’t risk them, and Molly, and the baby. It’s too much.

For a moment she had no idea what to do, and a bright bolt of panic ran through her. She had expected to find Theroen and Naomi here; what if they had been captured? What if they were both already dead? Had they gone to Naomi’s apartment in the West Village instead? Were the Children there, too? It seemed likely; Thomas had been giving them information for years. Surely they knew where she lived.

Two felt like screaming. It was too much – too much that the Children had come to their meeting place and butchered them, and too much by far that they had invaded her home and cast doubt and suspicion on any other safe place she could think of. What were they going to do? What choices were left?

Then Sasha spoke, her voice calm. “Take us to the Tribeca Grand, please. Corner of Sixth and White.”

“You betcha,” the driver said, and he pulled out onto the street.

“What’s at the Tribeca Grand?” Two murmured.

“A safe deposit box with copies of my documents, cards, keys, and thirty thousand dollars in cash in it,” Sasha replied.

“Oh, awesome.”

“Yes,” the Ay’Araf woman replied, staring out the window. “Let’s just hope they’ll let me access it. Otherwise this ugly night is just going to keep getting worse.”

* * *

“We have one of these at the W in Union Square,” Two said as they entered the hotel. “Theroen insists on it. I shoulda thought of it …”

“We were closer to mine,” Sasha said, shrugging. “At any rate, you looked like you were on the edge of a nervous breakdown, so I thought I would offer some help.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

The hotel lobby was nearly empty, much to the three woman’s relief. It was now almost four in the morning, and there was only a single attendant stationed at the desk. He was a male in his late twenties, with shaggy dark hair and pallid skin. Two didn’t think he spent much time in the sun. He looked up at them as they came forward, glanced back down, and then did a double take.

“Are you ladies all … holy shit, Sasha?”

“Hello, Davric,” Sasha said, stepping up to the counter.

“Are you … is that … I mean, you’re covered in—”

“It will be best if you tell yourself that it’s paint,” Sasha said, her voice brusque and direct. “It would also be best if you treated me like any other guest.”

“I … fine, what can I do for you?”

“I need to get into the safe.”

“I have to log your ID,” Davric said.

“My ID is in the safe.”

“Well, then I can’t … I mean, I don’t know what I could do. Jesus Christ, Sasha, are you sure that stuff’s not—”

“It is paint!” she snarled. “Shut up and focus. The safe. My box is in there, and I need it. You’re going to go open it and bring me the box.”

“I can’t do that without logging it. They’ll kill me. Are you fucking crazy? We’re on tape, here. Everything’s on tape.”

“You are five minutes from me leaping over this counter, beating you half to death, and opening the damn safe myself,” Sasha said, her voice still calm and quiet, but deadly serious. “This has been a worse night than you can possibly imagine, and I am at the very edge of my patience.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Davric said, his voice taking on a whiny tone that made Two wish Sasha would just skip to the part where she hit him.

“I want you to open the safe. I want you to take my box, and bring it to me, along with the skeleton key. I will wait out behind the hotel. When you bring me the box, I will hand you five thousand dollars, and we will call an end to this lovely relationship that we have cultivated these past ten years. After that, you will return to the desk, and my friend who is waiting out with the cab will come in. She will book three rooms and pay for them in cash. You will never see me or hear from me again. If any part of this plan does not proceed as I’ve outlined, I will break both of your thumbs.”

“Jesus Christ,” Davric moaned. “Why can’t you just get out of my life?”

“You were the one who decided to steal from me. Consider yourself fortunate; my first instinct was to cut your head off. Now I am offering you the opportunity to be free. So, choose. Five thousand dollars and no more vampires in your life, or two broken thumbs and a promise … an absolute oath, Davric … that I will hound you from now until the day you die.”

Davric considered this, jaw clenched, staring at her. Finally he said, “Fine. Fuck it, it’ll be worth getting fired if it means I never have to see you again. Maybe I can talk Charlie into cutting off the feed for a few minutes.”

“You do whatever you need to do. Five minutes. If you open the box I’ll know it, and then I won’t just break your thumbs … I’ll take them with me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Davric growled, heading toward the door at the far end of the reception desk. “Just go wait outside, you crazy fucking bitch.”

Sasha turned and headed for the door. After a moment, Two followed, saying, “So that guy knows what you are?”

“Ever since he broke into my apartment and saw me drinking blood, yes. After that, I began keeping tabs on him. He proves useful from time to time when I need something done and don’t want to get my hands dirty. Most often he helps me smuggle weapons in, but a few times I’ve used his breaking and entering skills.”

“Did you really mean it when you said you’d leave him alone?”

“As far as he will ever know, yes. I’ll check up on him from time to time to make sure that my little secret remains a secret, but so long as it does, he will never again know I am watching.”

“Won’t you have to find someone else to smuggle for you?”

They stepped outside and Sasha glanced over, smiling a little.

“The thing about people like Davric is, in New York at least, that there’s always another one just around the corner.”

* * *

Two didn’t think she would ever run for president of the Davric fan club, but she had to give credit where it was due: he came through for them, delivering the box with time to spare. Sasha checked it and seemed satisfied that he had not opened it. She quickly counted out fifty hundred-dollar bills and handed them to him, saying she deeply hoped he could retain his job. Davric spared her a few choice words at this, but Sasha only stared back at him, unfazed.

After extracting a final promise to leave him alone, Davric made his way back to the front desk. In short order, Leonore entered the hotel, obtained three room keys, and returned to collect Sasha and Two from out front, paying the cab driver and tipping him well for his time.

“Aren’t you worried he’ll call the police or something?” Two asked, and Sasha shook her head.

“I could send him to Riker’s for a decade with one email, and he knows it,” she said. “He’ll be good.”

In only a few minutes more, Two was alone in her room. She stood there in the dark, staring at the telephone, streaks of cold dread worming their way down her spine.

What if he’s dead? a voice in her head asked, and Two clenched her jaw, baring her teeth without realizing it. What if he was? There was no way for her to know until she called, and so she picked up the receiver and held it to her ear, trying to force her heart to stop pounding in her chest.

“Just fucking do it,” she growled to herself, and she punched in Theroen’s number. The phone rang once, twice, and Two heard a click. Her breath locked in her chest and a painful throb ran through her. Then she heard Theroen’s voice, clear and strong, coming from the phone’s receiver.

“Two?” he asked, and she felt her chest unlock. Two exhaled a long, relieved sigh that ended in a small laugh.

“Oh, baby …” she said.

“It is you,” Theroen said. “My love, are you all right? Are you hurt? What happened to your phone?”

“It burned up. I’m fine … are you all right? How’s your shoulder?”

“Improved. I have had some blood.”

“Oh, awesome. Where are you? Did you try to go home?”

“No, we went … Naomi has a new apartment. We went there. Are you at home?”

“No. Don’t go there. There were people there with guns. Don’t … you’re on a cell, so don’t talk about locations, OK? Don’t tell me where Naomi’s new place is.”

“They were at our apartment?” Thereon asked, sounding taken aback. “How did they … no, it doesn’t matter. Did they see you? Was there fighting?”

“No, it was fine. Sasha saw them before they spotted us, and we got the hell out of there. We’re … someplace safe.”

“Very good,” Theroen said. “Just hearing your voice is … I am much relieved. How are Jakob and Sasha doing?”

Two paused, fighting away another wave of overwhelming grief, and told Theroen what had happened to Jakob. The story came out in a rush, and it seemed to end almost before she had begun.

“I … I have no words,” Theroen said at last.

“There’s something else,” Two said. “When she came for me, she recognized me. Or at least, she realized that she knew me, but couldn’t remember who I was. I think they did something to her brain.”

“How were you able to escape?”

“She stopped for a minute because she was so confused, and I heard Leonore calling me. Jakob was taking us to a secret passage, and Leonore was already in there. She got Sasha first and then came for me.”

“Leonore … that is unexpected.”

“No kidding. She’s with us. We all left our purses in the church, so that was bad. No phones, no money … we finally made it to a place where Sasha had some things stashed.”

“I am glad you are safe for the time being,” Theroen said.

“Me too. This is really bad. I don’t even know who’s left.”

“No, nor do I. We can figure that out when we meet tomorrow. Two … do you remember last year when we walked the length of Central Park, and then we stopped at a certain spot and shared a bottle of wine?”

Two smiled a little. They had sat on the edge of the Bethesda Fountain, looking out at the Lake, sipping wine and watching the various night creatures moving along its edge.

“Of course I remember,” she said.

“Let us meet there, then, tomorrow night at eleven. I can bring you back to Naomi’s apartment. Sasha and Leonore, too, if they are in need of a place to stay. I think it is important that we regroup as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, me too. We’ll be there, Theroen. Eleven o’clock. I promise.”

“Very good. Two …”

“Yes, hon?”

Theroen paused for a long time, and when he spoke again, his voice was strained. “I am so glad you are safe. I love you. I love you very much and I … I am sorry that I left you. I should never have left you.”

Two felt fresh tears spring to her eyes and wished more than anything else in the world that she could lie down with this man that she loved, and put her hands in his hair, and hold herself close to him. She wanted to hear his heart beat and feel his warmth. She wanted to tell him that everything would be fine, and hear him say the same to her.

“Oh, Theroen, no,” she said. “Baby … you did what I asked you to do. What I wanted you to do. You got out, and you got Naomi out, and you’re both still alive, and that’s all that matters. I love you too, I promise, more than ever. Stay safe, OK? Stay safe, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You do the same,” Theroen said, his voice soft. “Sleep well, my love. I will see you very soon.”

There was a click, and the call ended. Two hung up the phone and put her hands against her face. She stood there like that, breathing slowly, feeling sad and sorry and hopeless. The tears came slowly, painfully, as if wrung from a parched stone – but they came just the same, and it was a very long time before she slept.

Chapter 14
The Council United

When his conversation with Two was over, Theroen was very glad he had not pulled the trigger in those last, strained moments. He returned now to the living room, where Naomi had composed herself and was sitting again on the couch, staring out at her view of Central Park.

“That was Two,” Theroen said, and Naomi nodded.

“I heard that much. I’m glad she’s alive. I take it they found the passage?”

“Yes, but … not without consequence.”

Naomi glanced up at him, her eyes betraying both fear and curiosity. “Oh, no. What happened?”

“Several of the Children, led by Tori, caught up with them. Jakob … he …”

Theroen couldn’t finish, not wanting to heap yet more grief onto Naomi’s shoulders, but it didn’t matter; in a moment more her expression told him that she understood. She did not react with tears, or even with rage. Instead she merely turned back to her view and stared out into night. When she reached for her wine glass, her hand was shaking so badly that Theroen was unsure it would reach her lips. It did, however, and she took a long drink before returning it to the table.

“How did … how did Two make it out?” she asked.

“Leonore. She knew of the passage and had been hiding there. She was able to save Sasha and Two, but it was too late for Jakob.”

Naomi looked sick and shell shocked. Theroen wanted to do something for her, but he couldn’t begin to imagine what that something might be. All this terrible news in just one night? First Ashayt, then William, now Jakob …

When Naomi spoke again, it was in a voice that was trying for nonchalance but was instead filled with such emotion that the each word seemed weighted down with it.

“What are we going to do?”

“I’ve told Two to meet me in Central Park tomorrow, and to bring Sasha and Leonore,” Theroen said. “From there we can regroup and plan our—”

“No. Theroen … no! My God, after all that has happened, how can you still want to fight them?”

“Please, let me finish. There is no way to fight them, not right now. Perhaps if we knew where they were coming from, some sort of argument could be made for it, but at the moment we do not have the information and so cannot act on it.”

“Why bother regrouping?” Naomi asked.

“We have lost two battles in a row because we were unprepared. It seems as though we may have lost the war, but I am not sure it matters; we cannot surrender. The Children will not stop until we are all dead. Most of us that still live wish to continue doing so, Naomi. Our best course of action is to reunite somewhere safe.”

“If you still wish to live, then by all means, do whatever you want,” Naomi said. “For my part, my mind was made up even before I learned about Jakob. Why couldn’t you have just pulled the trigger? I saw how close you were … now I must go to my grave knowing that yet another friend has gone before me.”

Theroen was still holding the gun in his hand, and he glanced at it now. He looked over at Naomi, who was watching him, and then back again at the weapon.

“Naomi Ames,” he said, contemplating. “My oldest friend.”

“Yes.”

“The Naomi Ames I used to know cared deeply about people. She cared about the other vampires in this country and in the world. She cared about them so much that I have seen her join battle to protect them, even though it went against her very being. You have fought with weapons and with words to protect those people, to shield them from tyrants like Aros and Abraham. Why are you abandoning them now, when they need you most?”

“There is nothing I could possibly do for—”

“Who is left, Naomi, if not you? Who is left to lead? Here we are, the two oldest vampires left in this entire country, and if I could take this burden from your shoulders and bear it on my own, I would – but I cannot. They will not follow me, not alone. Whether the choice is to flee or fight, it must be made and then carried out. Without the council it will be chaos, and without you there is no council.

“The Ay’Araf will fight and die. The Eresh and the Ashayt, what is left of them, will either flee the country or huddle in the dark, waiting for their time to come. The Burilgi will remain scattered and disorganized, and one by one or dozens at a time they will be destroyed. That is the fate of all American vampires, if I turn to you now and put a bullet into your head.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I am wrong, then. Try to lie to me, Naomi Ames, and if you can do it – if you can say those words without me feeling the lie pouring forth from you like heat from a furnace – then I will do what you ask. Tell me there is someone else who can pull the remnants of the council together and lead.”

Naomi stared at him, two bright spots of color resting high on her cheeks, her jaw clenched. He had trapped her, and she knew it.

“I will not lie to you,” she said at last.

“No. And so, here we are. You are not asking me to kill you, now. You are asking me to choose the fate of every vampire in this country. I cannot.”

“Then give me the fucking gun and let me do it myself!” Naomi cried, her eyes blazing. “God damn you, Theroen Anders!”

Theroen looked at her, shook his head, and gave a small, sad laugh. “There is no God. You told me that yourself not half an hour ago. Here, Naomi … take it.”

Theroen tossed the gun to her, and he saw in her eyes as it moved through the air a moment of sudden, complete surprise. She had not expected him to relinquish the weapon so easily, and he found himself smiling as she caught it and held it in her lap, staring at it.

“What good would it do me to keep it from you?” he asked. “Could you not simply find another? You could, and if I am wrong about who you are, Naomi, then there is no way to stop you from proving it, is there?”

“No,” Naomi said, still staring at the gun. “No, of course not.”

“Very well, then. I cannot do what you ask, not now, but I will make you a promise, and I will give you a choice.”

Naomi glanced up at him. “What are you talking about.”

“The choice is simple,” Theroen said. “Shoot yourself here, now, or put the gun back in its box. I will accept the latter as a promise that you will not take it out again, or buy another, until the time is right.”

“And your promise?”

Theroen nodded, the smile gone from his lips. He met Naomi’s big, beautiful grey eyes and held her gaze.

“Help us, all of us, to get through this threat. If there comes a time when we have reached the other side and can live without fear, and if at that time you still wish to die, then you have my word – on my soul and the souls of all those I have ever loved – that I will grant your request. I will be your friend, as I have ever been, and I will put the gun to your head, pull the trigger, and send you to whatever there is that awaits you. I will swear it to you, Naomi, but only if you help us. We cannot do this alone.”

Naomi sat for a long time with the gun in her lap, and Theroen let her do so in peace. He sat back in his chair, contemplating her, believing he knew which choice she would make. At last, Naomi took a deep breath and wrapped her fingers around the gun’s handgrip.

For a moment, Theroen thought that this was the end, that he had misjudged her, and that in but another instant there would be no more Naomi and no more hope. Then she leaned forward, set the gun in the box that rested still on the coffee table, and looked up at him.

“I’m opening another bottle of wine,” she said, and she stood.

Theroen nodded and, watching as she moved toward the kitchen, said, “Bring another glass, if you wouldn’t mind.”

* * *

Naomi came with him to the fountain, and they sat there together in silence for some time, waiting for Two and her companions to arrive. Theroen tried not to worry about her safety. He could only hope that wherever it was she had ended up, it was safe from the eyes of the Children. There was no point in turning it over and over again in his mind. Still, it was nearly impossible to stop.

They had not spoken of her desire for death any further, and though he had not promised to keep any secrets, Theroen had no intention of telling anyone else about it. In the morning, he and Naomi had exchanged only a few words before making their way to the park, moving along the darkened pathways until they reached the Bethesda Fountain.

“Someone is coming,” Naomi said now, and Theroen tilted his head, listening. Indeed, he could hear the sound of footsteps on the asphalt pathway. Soon the party, whoever they were, would reach the stairs and be visible.

“It is likely them, but be prepared to deal with security,” Theroen said, and Naomi nodded. Neither was worried about being caught in the park after hours; between Naomi’s aura and Theroen’s mental abilities, there were few humans on the planet they could not charm, especially now that they no longer looked like trauma victims. Violence would not be necessary.

Naomi’s face was almost entirely healed; one would have to look closely to see the last ghosts of the burns from the night before. Her arm, too, was doing well. For his part, Theroen felt much better. There was still some stiffness when he moved his right arm, but the stabbing pain had long since dissipated. While it often came with its share of sadness and pain, he reflected, one could certainly identify advantages to being a vampire.

“Theroen?” someone said, and when he glanced up he saw Two’s silhouette at the top of the stairs. He would have known it even without her voice to help.

“We are here, my love,” he called back, standing up and walking forward. He saw two other silhouettes join the first, and the trio began to descend the stairs. Behind him, he heard Naomi step forward as well. Both groups met at the bottom of the stairs.

“OK … everyone look away for a second,” Two said, and without waiting to see if anyone had complied with her request, she flung her arms around Theroen’s neck, pulling him down and kissing him. Theroen tightened his own arms around her waist, lifting her up off her feet and holding her to him.

“How disgustingly adorable,” Sasha said, her tone dripping with sarcasm but good natured, and Theroen felt Two laugh around his lips. He set her back down.

“Told you to look away,” Two said, and Sasha nodded.

“Yes, well …” she turned to Theroen and Naomi. “It is good to see you both alive. I ... trust that Two has informed you of our losses.”

“Sasha, I’m so sorry,” Naomi said, and the Ay’Araf woman nodded, scrubbing a hand across her face and taking a deep breath.

“We have all lost people,” she said. “I lost a husband once and it hurt like this, but that was so long ago, and this pain is so new and fresh. Still, it gladdens me to see you. Both of you. It gives me hope.”

Naomi glanced over at Theroen at this, but he made no effort to acknowledge the look. If their presence gave Sasha hope even now, on the night after her patron had been slain, who was he to deny that comfort?

Naomi turned to Leonore. “It is good to see you as well.”

The Eresh woman gave Naomi a skeptical glance but said only, “Indeed. These are terrible times.”

“They are,” Theroen agreed. “And as much as we might enjoy discussing them in front of this lovely view, such things are probably best done back at Naomi’s apartment.”

“A change of clothes would be awesome,” Two said, glancing down at her rumpled blouse. “Mine smell like smoke.”

“And Sasha’s are covered in blood,” Naomi said. “Yes, I think we can do something about that. I may not have anything that will fit you very well, Two.”

“Not surprised,” Two said. “You’re about eighty feet taller than I am. It’s OK.”

They began to walk in silence toward Naomi’s apartment, none of them willing to begin the discussion yet. Theroen found himself lagging behind with Two. He stared up through the trees at the few stars visible beyond.

“You OK?” Two asked him after a time, and Theroen glanced at her.

“As well as can be expected, considering all that happened last night,” he said. Two shook her head.

“No, that’s … I’m feeling something. You’re far away.”

Theroen raised his eyebrows. “Am I? Forgive me, Two. I am greatly concerned about what will happen next. We have come to a crucial juncture, and the people to whom I would most like to turn for advice have all passed on.”

“I keep forgetting they’re gone,” Two said. “William, and Ashayt, and … and Jakob. It keeps catching me off guard, and every time it’s like I can feel something inside of me snapping, and I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.”

“Your life has been grief heaped upon grief,” Theroen said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Two looked up at him and shook her head.

“I’m not asking for pity, hon. It’s not any better for Naomi, or Sasha, or even Leonore. She lost James, and … she really cared about him. This whole thing is my fault.”

“Two—”

“I understand it now, why they need Tori. Without her, they’re just not good enough. Jakob was destroying them. Sure, maybe they would have taken out some of us, but they’d have lost more than we would after the initial surprise was gone. If they didn’t have her, he’d still be alive, and so would Ashayt, and they’d be in trouble. But they do have her, because I left her alone in Ohio, because I’m stupid and selfish and all I cared about was finding my way back to what you’d given me.”

“You had no way of knowing,” Theroen said.

“It doesn’t matter!” Two exclaimed, and the others turned their heads, surprised by the outburst. “Jesus … what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to discuss it,” Naomi said from up ahead. “We’re all going to sit down and figure out what to do. There is no sense working yourself up over it now, Two.”

“Sure, right, might as well wait and get worked up later,” Two grumbled, and Naomi glanced over her shoulder, a grim smile on her face.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, and Two nodded.

They walked on in silence. Theroen could sense that, despite Naomi’s advice, Two was having a hard time not dwelling on the subject. He could feel hurt and guilt, anxiety and despair rolling off her, and he wished he could do something to help. He settled for taking her hand, and when she looked up at him, he smiled and tried to convey to her feelings of warmth and comfort. Two squeezed his hand and nodded, as if she understood. Together like that, they continued the walk back to Naomi’s apartment.

* * *

They had gathered around Naomi’s living room, sitting on couches and chairs, sipping wine or blood or bourbon and glancing from time to time at each other. Each, it seemed, was waiting for someone else to begin. The three women who had come from the hotel were dressed in clean clothes. Two was wearing a pair of Naomi’s jeans with the cuffs rolled up, the waist cinched tight with a black leather belt, and a simple black T-shirt. Sasha and Leonore were similarly dressed, though the clothes were short on the tall Russian woman and a little tight on Leonore’s curvier frame.

When they had first sat down, Theroen had asked Two to fill him in on the exact details of what had happened after he and Naomi escaped. Two had told the story, describing everything in as much detail as she could, including Jakob’s death at Tori’s hands. When Sasha had learned of the poison darts, she had snarled something in a disgusted voice, standing up and going to stare out of the window at the park spread out below her.

When Two had finished, a silence descended. After a time, Naomi broke it. “How many of us are left?”

Without turning, Sasha answered her. “The only council members I can account for are in this room. I was hoping the two of you might know of other survivors.”

Theroen shook his head “We have heard from none.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Naomi said, and she held up her phone. There was a text message displayed on the screen.

“It’s from Lewis,” she said, and read it out loud. “Alive, but hurt bad. Can’t move yet, but have been on the net. Burilgi are terrified. With help, we can build an army.”

“I can reach out to what Ay’Araf are left in the country,” Sasha said. “It won’t be many … perhaps three or four dozen, but most of them are worth ten Burilgi. Do we have the time to spare?”

“Until we know where the Children are and what they’re doing, we can’t say anything for sure,” Naomi said. “It’s simply not safe to gather in large numbers right now.”

“They’ve lost quite a few people during these attacks,” Leonore commented. “Perhaps they will pull back to regroup and assess their damages.”

“I wonder if Tori and the other chick even made it out,” Two said. “I mean … the secret passage was the only exit that didn’t take them right back into the fire, except the windows in the offices, and they all have bars on them.”

“I would love for that to be the case,” Naomi said. “It would … forgive me, Two, but that would be very good news indeed.”

Two sighed, nodded, and said nothing.

Theroen tented his fingers and touched them to his lips. “I am unwilling to bet on Tori’s demise until I have seen her body. Bars on the window may not have been enough to contain her.”

“No, likely not,” Naomi said. “We must assume she is still out there. So, here we are … a council much reduced, but still stuck in the same place we were twenty-four hours ago. I will not try any longer to argue for diplomacy. Any chance we might have had at that is lost. There are only two options left before us: retaliation or flight. We do not know where the Children are, so the former seems impossible.”

“You want to run, then, Naomi?” Sasha asked, and there was a perceptible tone of distaste in her voice. Naomi looked up.

“I don’t want to do anything of the sort,” she replied. “I’m just not sure I see an alternative. I understand that you wish to fight, Sasha. I expect that you will attempt to do so even if we decide at this very moment to flee to Europe. But to fight them, you have to know where they are. Do you? If so, please, share that information with us.”

“You know I don’t,” Sasha said. “But I will not leave my home. I moved to this city in the days before the Civil War, have been here through decades good and bad, and I am not going to flee simply because Theroen’s rogue sister is terrorizing us.”

Theroen glanced at her. “No one is asking you to. If the council decides on that course of action, it will not have the time or resources to argue with those who refuse to leave. Moving the vampires of this country to Europe will be a tremendous logistical task.”

“Are we really considering that?” Leonore asked, and Theroen turned to her, nodding.

“I think we are,” he said. “The other options seem limited.”

“Those of us who stayed could continue on with the fight,” Sasha said, returning to the couches and sitting down, looking intently at Theroen with her watery-blue eyes.

“Of course you could,” Naomi murmured. She was staring at the floor, her lips pressed into a thin, white line. “Who would stop you? Other than the Children …”

“I have a question,” Two said. She was sitting with her legs crossed under her in a leather recliner on the far side of the room, her features obscured by shadow.

“By all means, ask,” Theroen said.

“How many of you would fight if we knew where they were?”

“Perhaps if the others were still alive—” Naomi began, and Two cut her off.

“But they’re not still alive. They’re dead. That’s not what I’m asking you. If we put it to a vote, right now, how would you all vote? If we knew where the Children were, where they were coming from, would you fight or would you run?”

“There are valid arguments for either option,” Naomi said.

“Jesus Christ, can’t you just answer the question?!” Two snarled. “Stop being a politician for half a goddamn minute and say what you mean. Grow a pair, Naomi!”

“Two …” Theroen began, but she waved him away.

“She’s a big girl, Theroen.”

Naomi sighed, shifted in her seat, and looked for a time out the window. She seemed undisturbed by Two’s tone. At last she spoke.

“I would flee. I believe … oh, what does it matter?  Think of me what you will. I would go to Europe and regroup there, even if we knew their exact location at this exact moment in time. Is that enough for you, Two?”

Two nodded. “That’s fine. Sasha?”

“Fight,” Sasha said. “You know that.”

“Yeah. Leonore?”

“I would fight,” Leonore said after some consideration. “I am not much for combat, but I’ve no interest in forfeiting my council seat and deferring to a cadre of elders who will care nothing for my opinion.”

“Fair enough. Theroen?”

He thought about it – thought long and hard, unsure of his own feelings and motivations. Part of him cried out simply to distance himself from the council and its troubles, to go to Europe or anywhere else in the world and recede into obscurity, the state in which he had spent the past four hundred years. Another part of him felt still a great debt to Ashayt, who had brought him back from the very edges of oblivion. Would her death mean nothing, if they chose now to simply give up? Or would she have wanted them to flee, to protect themselves and so prevent further violence from coming to her people?

“Clock’s ticking, hon,” Two said. There was a small smile on her face, and her voice was oddly gentle, as if she understood the thoughts going through his mind. Theroen wondered if she could sense how torn he was.

“I would flee,” he said at last. “I would do it because I do not think a ragtag army of Burilgi and Ay’Araf can defeat the Children, not when we have lost so many fighters already, and not while they still have Tori.”

“She’s the key to it all,” Two said. “She’s not afraid or ashamed, and she doesn’t care about honor. She’ll kill us in any way she can, and that makes her a match even with the best of us.”

Theroen nodded. “She has added training and technology to her already considerable strength and speed. Certainly, she could be defeated if a very talented fighter encountered her in a one-on-one situation and was familiar with all of her weapons. That is an unlikely scenario. I see no way of getting past her.”

“I do,” Two said, and Naomi stirred at this.

“Two, you were amazingly lucky,” she said. “You have no way of knowing if another encounter with Tori would end in your favor.”

“You weren’t there,” Two replied. “You didn’t see the way she looked at me. If I can get to her without Vanessa around … I swear to God, I can get her to talk to me. I can get her to listen to me, and I think I can help her remember who I am.”

“You can’t do any of that because you don’t know where she is,” Theroen said.

“Well I fucking sure can’t do it from Europe, can I?” Two spat.

“So then your vote is to stay and fight?” Sasha asked.

“We are not voting,” Naomi began. “There was—”

“I don’t know what my vote is,” Two said. “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“Should we not give Lewis a vote? Or at least the chance to speak his mind?” Theroen asked.

“This is still a council meeting, and no formal request for a vote has been called,” Naomi said.

“Well, I formally fucking call for a vote,” Two said. “But Lewis deserves a say.”

“I don’t think he should be involved,” Leonore protested. “He’s not even here!”

Sasha whirled on her. “He’s not here because he fought his way out instead of running for the secret exit the moment the Children arrived. If he says his injuries prevent him from moving, then I believe him.”

“I don’t particularly care what you believe,” Leonore told her, raising her eyebrows. “At any rate, I was merely expressing my opinion.”

“When you find my foot lodged halfway up your large intestine, remember that I was merely expressing my opinion,” Sasha said.

“Sasha, please,” Naomi said. “This may not be an official council meeting, but I’d like to keep it as civil as possible.”

“It is an official council meeting,” Two said. “Other than Lewis, who else is there? We’re all that’s left.”

“In that case, I insist we remain civil,” Naomi grumbled. She stood up, moving toward the kitchen. “Would anyone like a refill on their drinks?”

Sasha and Leonore, who were both drinking blood from Naomi’s now nearly exhausted private reserve, both declined a refill. Theroen handed her his wine glass. Two shook her head and said, “I’m going for a walk. I need to think about this shit.”

“Are we to simply wait until you get back to continue?” Leonore asked her, and Two shrugged.

“You do whatever you want. I’m not going anywhere unless I decide to do it. If I don’t see you again, it was nice knowing you, I guess.”

Without further word, she headed for the front door and left the apartment. The others watched her go and, after a moment, Naomi turned to Theroen.

“Are you going to go after her?” she asked.

Theroen met her gaze and raised his eyebrows. Smiling a bit, he shook his head. “After these three years together, I have learned that it is best to let her go. She has thus far always returned for me.”

Chapter 15
Unexpected News

“Look who’s finally decided to show up.”

Two glanced over at Leonore, who was still sitting on Naomi’s couch, though now she had borrowed a laptop and was working her way through what looked like an overabundance of unread email. Sasha was out on the balcony, talking with Naomi. Theroen was watching CNN with the volume so low it was inaudible even to Two’s ears.

“Oh, are you still here?” Two replied, affecting a tone of disinterest, and Leonore glowered at her before returning to her email. Theroen turned to watch Two, an expression of mild amusement on his face. Two stepped over and sat down on the arm of the couch next to him.

“Have you come to any conclusions?” he asked.

“Well, I concluded that this shit is crazy,” Two said, and Theroen’s smile widened.

“We’ve had some news,” Theroen said, and Two found herself momentarily annoyed with his preternatural calm. It was impossible to judge from his tone whether the news was good or bad.

“Oh yeah? What’s up?”

“Let’s reconvene the group,” he said, standing up and walking over to the sliding glass door. He tapped on it, gaining Naomi and Sasha’s attention, and gestured back toward Two, who waved at them. Naomi nodded and the two women made their way inside.

“I trust you found whatever it was you were looking for?” Sasha asked, after they had all taken their seats.

“Not really, but at least I feel better,” Two replied. “Anyway, what’s the news? Anything good?”

“It depends on your point of view,” Naomi said. “Kanene is alive. She called me not forty minutes ago.”

“What?!” Two cried. “That’s awesome! Why wouldn’t that be good news?”

“It’s fantastic news,” Sasha said. “It’s just not the real news.”

“I’ll make you guys a deal,” Two said. “I’ll shut up if one of you will just tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“What a change that will be,” Naomi said, but there was a small smile on her face.

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” Two said, but then held her hands up and closed her mouth, waiting for someone to proceed. After a moment, Naomi took up the task.

“The last we saw Kanene, she was dragging Peter’s body away. She pulled him outside the building, stopping to fight off soldiers trying to kill her. I don’t know how she did it, but she eventually broke through and got his body to an alley. It was there that she was able to determine that there was nothing she could do for him. It hurt my heart to hear the loss in her voice.

“She left his body on a rooftop, and I have promised her we will go and take care of him. She had planned on rejoining the fight, but by that time the cathedral was burning and the streets were full of people. She remained on the rooftop, watching, and when the Children began to disperse, Kanene followed them, moving over the rooftops. After several blocks they reached their vehicle. You won’t believe this, Two, but she literally leapt into a parked cab and did the ‘follow that car!’ routine.”

“Nice.”

“They went to LaGuardia, and she almost lost them there. There was security to avoid and apparently quite a bit of razor wire, but she found the hangar that the vehicles were driving to, scaled it, and made her way to a skylight.

“Other soldiers arrived, and most went immediately to sleep. A few were awake, watching the entrance to the hangar, and she was able to catch some of their conversation. The Children’s forces are flying out from different airports, some traveling all the way to Philadelphia to depart, but they were all slated to arrive in Chicago. At last, with dawn nearing, she realized she must make a decision …”

Here, Naomi paused for a moment and broke into a smile, shaking her head in admiration.

“She stowed away, didn’t she?” Two asked, and Naomi nodded.

“She did. There were offices in the far corner of the building, dark and empty, and she took a chance at breaking a window. The men on guard didn’t hear the glass. At one point, Kanene walked within twenty feet of them, prepared if necessary to kill them, but they never turned around. She made her way through the shadows to the jet, climbed into the cargo hold, and buried herself in a storage unit filled with surplus gear. She spent most of the day sleeping there, knowing that if they found her they would put her to death but beyond caring.

“At some point during the day, they flew, and later they must have moved the box without ever opening it. When she woke, she was in a warehouse attached to their headquarters! It took her hours to make her way out unnoticed, but she did it, and now … Two, we know where to find them!”

For one of the rare moments in her life, Two was stricken dumb. She glanced at Theroen, but he was keeping his expression blank, looking back at her with that same eternal calm she’d been so frustrated by a moment ago. Sasha and Leonore seemed to be waiting for Two to speak.

“Are we going to fight them?” she asked at last. “Is that what this means?”

“We’re still discussing that,” Naomi said.

“I still do not see what there is to discuss,” Sasha said. “Between my Ay’Araf and Lewis’s Burilgi, we can throw numbers at them greater than anything they could have in that building.”

Naomi made a noise of aggravation. “Sasha, we cannot swarm into an Illinois suburb with five hundred vampires and attack a four-story building. It would risk everything we’ve spent the past centuries establishing. Do you want to go back to skulking in graveyards and living on the fringes of society, falling asleep every morning wondering if someone is going to try and drive a stake through your chest?”

Sasha sighed. “Why do you continue to assume that I am an idiot with no tactical sense? When have I ever advocated a full-scale frontal assault? Naomi, if I were as full of raging bloodlust as you seem to think, would I not have asked for more than a handful of fighters during the attack on Aros’s base? I am a fighter, yes, but I am not a raving psychopath.”

“My apologies,” Naomi said. “I do not think you are an idiot or a psychopath. I am merely advocating prudence, and I am … I am afraid of what will happen if we gather in large numbers again.”

“At least this time we’ll have warning if they mobilize,” Leonore said.

“Yes,” Naomi replied. “Two, Kanene has told me she intends to stay in Illinois and monitor the Children. It’s dangerous, but …”

“But we need eyes on them, right,” Two said. “Listen, I have an idea that might help her stay out of trouble. They don’t know she’s watching, but if she stays unaccounted for, they might get cautious. When we put out the news about Peter’s death, I think we should do the same for Kanene. No one needs to see the body, right? They’ll believe the news if it comes from the council, long as she’s not around. The council can know she’s alive, but there’s no reason for anyone else to know.”

“That’s very good,” Sasha said, nodding. “If we make it seem as though she’s passed, the Children won’t suspect she’s watching them … unless one of the remaining council members is a traitor.”

“Doubt it,” Two said. “If any of us were, there would’ve been thugs in black jumpsuits at the door hours ago.”

“Lewis is still a possibility,” Naomi said. “Though a remote one. I cannot imagine what he would stand to gain.”

“We must operate under the assumption that the council is secure,” Theroen said. “We need Lewis’s people if we choose to follow this path. We were lucky to come out of Aros’s base mostly intact, but we are not in so fortunate a starting position this time. We have lost Mother Ashayt and Jakob, and each of them would be worth a great many Burilgi indeed in any sort of battle.”

“Stephen, too, will be missed if there is fighting,” Sasha said.

“He is missed regardless,” Naomi murmured. She was looking at the muted television, on which they could see images of the burning cathedral. “Turn it off, Theroen. I don’t want to watch it again.”

Theroen did as she asked, and looked back at the rest of the group. “Have we found out where Lewis stands? I know he said he could build an army, but is that the path he believes we should take?”

“I haven’t spoken with him yet,” Naomi said. “Still, I think it’s a safe bet. He would not be talking about armies if his intent was to flee. Lewis will want immediate, direct action.”

“They can’t know we’re coming,” Two said. “If they find out we’re going to throw everything we’ve got at them, they’ll bolt. Remember how Tori vanished for two years as soon as they realized we were looking for her?”

“If we are to attack, then you are right,” Naomi said. “It is essential to keep our knowledge of their location a secret until we’ve begun the assault.”

“So, then, that’s the plan … right?” Two asked. “We keep it on a need-to-know basis, and the only other person who needs to know is Lewis. We get him to start putting together his people while Sasha deals with hers, and if anyone wants to know why, we say we’re doing it for security reasons. The big question is how we get them to Illinois without the Children figuring it out.”

“Two, the big question is whether we are even doing this,” Naomi said.

“Seriously? Are we still fighting about this? We know where they are and we know we can put the numbers together to take them on. The only real problem is how do I get in there first to talk to Tori?”

There was a prolonged period of silence after this statement, and Two looked from face to face. It seemed that her fellow vampires were making a pointed effort to avoid her eyes.

“I’m not leaving her,” Two said. “I think I’ve made this clear.”

“We know you want to save her, Two,” Naomi said. “But you may have to accept that she will be a necessary casualty.”

“I can’t do that. I just can’t.”

“She has chosen her side. She chose it long ago and has only backed up that choice again and again.”

“She doesn’t remember who she is!” Two cried.

Sasha spoke up, now willing to meet Two’s gaze. “Let me ask you a question, Two. Why should I expend any thought or effort on saving that woman’s life?”

Two found herself grasping for words, trying to find a way to answer Sasha’s question. At last she said, “You don’t understand …”

“I understand that she is an unrepentant killer. She has assaulted our people again and again, cut the throat of the oldest living vampire on the planet, led the attack on our very council, and murdered my fucking patron!” Sasha snarled.

“It’s not her fault! They’ve done things to her. They’ve—”

“So what?” Sasha asked. “What difference does that make to me? You’re trying to convince me to help you save her? I don’t understand why you think I should do anything other than hunt her down and kill her myself.”

Now Two felt rage kindling within her, along with a sort of mute despair. This was what she had feared, and it was already happening. The council had written Tori off and condemned her to death.

“You’re not going to do anything to her,” she said between clenched teeth.

“I like you, Two,” Sasha said. “But I have sworn no allegiance to you. I will do as I please, and if you have any shred of sense in your head, you will stay far out of my way when the time comes for me to do it.”

“If you touch her, Sasha, I’ll kill you. I’m not kidding.”

“Two, stop it,” Naomi said, frowning. Sasha was looking at Two with a haughty, almost disinterested expression.

“Perhaps you should get that out of the way right here, then, before it becomes an issue,” she said.

“Perhaps I fucking should,” Two growled, and she left the armrest she had been perched on, standing up and facing the Ay’Araf woman. Sasha tilted her head, surprised but not afraid, and things might have escalated had Theroen not also stood and placed his hand on Two’s shoulder.

“If it pleases the council,” he said, “I would like to speak with Two alone for a few minutes. May I request a recess?”

“Don’t even start in on the ‘elder doling out life lessons’ shit,” Two said, and Theroen smiled a little.

“No, Two. I am your lover, or boyfriend, or whatever you would like to call me, and I would talk to you as such. I will save the sire-to-fledgling talks for future moments when tensions are running a bit lower. Right now, I just want to talk to you as an equal. Is that acceptable?”

Two stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “Fine. We’ll go out on the balcony – I could use some air anyway. Nothing is settled, Sasha. Don’t think that it is.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sasha told her.

“Let’s go,” Two said to Theroen, and she headed for the sliding glass door.

* * *

“Why do they have to make this so fucking difficult?!” Two asked. She was leaning against the railing of Naomi’s balcony, looking down at Fifth Avenue below them. Traffic was still thick, even at this advanced hour of the evening.

“I will try to ignore the irony of that question coming from your mouth, my love,” Theroen said. He sat down on one of the overstuffed patio chairs and regarded her. Two turned to look at him.

“It’s not just that they don’t care. That would be bad enough. They want to kill her, Theroen!”

“Can you blame them for that?”

“I sure can!”

Theroen tented his fingers and pressed them to his lips for a moment, then put his hands in his lap and spoke. “I knew Tori as an unthinking, uncaring beast that took immense pleasure in stalking, killing, and dismembering both humans and vampires alike. The others know only that since her return to humanity, she has joined up with our enemies, led multiple attacks against us, and personally murdered two very important vampires, one of who was seen as something close to a god by our people.”

“Do you think it doesn’t matter to me, what she’s done?” Two asked. “Ashayt was a wonderful person, and she brought you back to me. Jakob was a good man, and a good friend, and I had to watch her kill him!”

“Then we are in agreement that the desire for some sort of retribution is not entirely misplaced …”

“This stupid council only has one form of retribution.”

“What would you have them do? Economic sanctions? Send her to vampire jail?”

“I don’t know! I don’t have all the answers, but they can’t just kill her. It’s not right and I won’t let them.”

“What if she does not give them a choice? Even when you last confronted her, even while she was battling the ghosts of her memories, she ordered her soldier to kill you. What if you go to talk sense into her, and she decides that she does not care about what you have to say?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Two said.

“You keep insisting that, and I do honestly hope that you are right, but I am unwilling to bet your life on it.”

“Hon, we’re betting all of our lives on this thing.”

Here Theroen paused, as if contemplating his next words carefully. Two understood before he spoke, and sighed.

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“I have no interest in storming an enemy building full of homicidal zealots. I have no interest in any of this. The council has the people they need, with the Ay’Araf and Burilgi, to fight this war. There is no reason for us—”

“Tori’s a pretty good reason,” Two interrupted.

“There is no reason for us to remain here,” Theroen finished.

“What about Naomi, then?” Two asked him, and Theroen glanced through the window at the woman, who was lying with her head back against the couch, eyes closed, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Naomi will organize, but she will not fight. She won’t be in any immediate danger. When it is done, she will … well, depending on the outcome she will either assume her rightful place at the head of the council or flee to Europe, I suppose.”

Two felt anger and despair rising within her, a tide so strong that she could not at first find words to express herself. At last she said, “So that’s it, then? You’d rather just piss off to Europe and let some other vampires die for you? Are you fucking kidding me, Theroen?!”

He shook his head. “I would rather just ‘piss off to Europe’ and let some other vampires die for you, my love. I would sacrifice ten of them for you, or a hundred. If it came to it, I would sacrifice Naomi, and Sasha, and every vampire left in the world that I call a friend, let alone those I do not, if it would keep you safe.”

“That’s just not an option!” Two shouted at him, and at last Theroen’s seemingly impenetrable calm broke. He clutched the armrests of the wicker chair he was sitting in with enough force that Two heard them crack under the pressure.

“Why not?!” he cried. “Why must I risk you for these people I barely know? Why should I not say ‘good luck’ and leave them to their fate?”

“Because they need you,” Two said.

“I do not wish to be needed.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Two cried, and then she held her hands up and out in front of her, breathing deeply, making the effort to calm down. She didn’t want to make Theroen any angrier than he already was, nor did she want to force him into anything. He had to come to the choice on his own.

Theroen, for his part, seemed to have regained his composure. “Why does it not matter?”

“Baby, you have to understand … there’s no one left except Naomi, and she’s not enough. She’s falling apart. Do you think I’m fucking blind? She hasn’t let go of Stephen, or of me, and she’s dying inside, and what happened to Ashayt and William is only going to make it worse. If she were human she’d be drinking herself to death, but she’s not, so she just goes on and on ... she doesn’t have an anchor, anymore, and she’s not strong enough to lead them all by herself. They need you.”

“I have never wished to lead,” Theroen told her. “I am not built for it.”

Two gave him a sad laugh. “That’s a lie. Why do you think Abraham kept you away from the council for so long? Why do you think he kept you from everything for so long? He was afraid of you and what you could become. You’ve fought this every step of the way because you think you’re not cut out for it, and people still look to you for leadership. They listen – the whole council – when you talk. They care about what you have to say. It’s a part of you and it always has been, and all you have to do is embrace it. If you choose the direction, they’ll follow you.”

Theroen put the palms of his hands to his forehead and breathed deeply, considering this. “If I do this thing, assume this mantle of leadership you so desperately want me to take, will you stay away from the fight?”

Two shook her head, smiling a little. “No.”

“No … and neither will you give up on this belief that Tori can be redeemed.”

“No.”

“And if I tell you that I refuse, that I will not be the leader you want me to be and that I am going to Europe, will you come with me?”

Two leaned back against the balcony and stared up at the sky. “Of course,” she said. “If that’s what you choose, then of course I’ll come with you.”

“And would it break something between us that we may never be able to repair?” Theroen asked, and Two looked over at him. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes, and she brushed them away.

“I don’t know, baby. All I know is that I believe, with every part of me, that we can win this war and save Tori at the same time. We can help her redeem herself and come through this whole thing alive, but I need your help to do it.”

Theroen seemed to have no immediate answer to this. He was staring up at the night sky, pondering her words. Two tried to put her thoughts together, tried once more to make him understand why the choice was so important.

“Do you remember after the attack on Aros, when I asked you to help me be a better person?” she asked. “This is what I was talking about. The old me, the me that shot Samantha instead of figuring out some other choice, the me that abandoned my friends to chase vampires – that person would write Tori off for dead. She would shrug her shoulders and say, ‘nothing I can do,’ and move on. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to help her, and I want to help the council, and I want to prove that both things are possible.

“That’s what I want … but I’m not that same, selfish, stubborn person anymore. I’m not going to force you to do this. I refuse. Whatever you choose, I’ll follow you, no matter what. Whatever you choose, I will still love you.”

“Whatever I choose …” Theroen murmured.

“It has to be you, and I’m sorry, but that’s what I signed you up for when I shoved that needle into your neck, whether you like it or not. You have the blood of gods running in your veins, hon. You’re the combination of the Eresh, Ashayt, and Ay’Araf lines, and now you’re the only source left. The vampires in this country … they’re your people now, and your people need you. If I could take that burden from you, I would, but I can’t do it myself. I’m not old enough or strong enough or smart enough or skilled enough. They won’t listen to me.”

“Two, what if I fail? What if we fail?”

Two gave a short laugh and held her hands out, palms up. “Then we all die, baby. What else?”

Theroen gave her an incredulous look, but slowly he began to laugh. Two watched him for a time, saying nothing, and at last he got control of himself and looked up at her with his luminescent, light-brown eyes.

“So, to be clear, you want me to take command of the American council of vampires. You want me to gather an army of Ay’Araf and Burilgi, augmented with what few Ashayt and Eresh we can scrape up, and attack a fortified building in a Chicago suburb, one which is filled with people who have trained their entire lives to murder us. Before this attack happens, you want me to go into this place with you, find their greatest warrior, and help you convince her to switch sides. And you want me to do all of this while carrying the knowledge that if any part of this mad plan fails, it is very likely that you, and I, and all our people on this side of the Atlantic will be wiped out.”

Two thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Yep.”

Theroen looked her in the eyes for a long time, and she could sense the many warring emotions with him. She could hear the ghosts and whispers of them in his thoughts – the desire to flee, the urge to do what was right, even the urge to do battle and be victorious. Above all, she could feel his love for her, and his fear for what might happen. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to embrace him and tell him to forget all about the war and about saving Tori, and that yes, they could flee to Europe and build new lives there together.

But she couldn’t, and so she fought back the urge and waited. Theroen seemed to have picked up on her desire, though, because he smiled a little and closed his eyes, shaking his head. At last he sighed, and clapped his hands once on the chair’s armrests, and stood.

“Let’s go end a war,” he said to her, and turned back toward the sliding glass doors and the other vampires waiting inside.

Part IV

Chapter 16
Trouble at Home

“Park, I swear to God I’m going to shove that recorder down your throat,” Vanessa said. Her voice was hoarse and cracked from the smoke she had inhaled during that last, intense period in the cathedral.

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Soon Park said, pulling the microphone he was holding away from her. “I just want to make sure my report’s accurate. I’ve got what happened to the others. I just need one more thing.”

Vanessa made a disgusted noise, coughed a few times, and said, “What?”

“How did you and the Captain make it out? It sounds like you were stuck in that hallway, with the fire at your back.”

“We were. Once we figured out that we weren’t going to be able to get into the passage the bats escaped through, we started looking for other ways out. All the windows we found were barred, and the last one we came to was an eighteen-foot drop onto concrete, but by then the whole hall was on fire. We couldn’t go back. Captain blew out the window with a grenade and jumped. I was kind of greying out from the smoke by then and don’t remember too well. I tried to jump, I think, but I fell. I … she had to catch me.”

“And then you returned to the rendezvous point on 71st Street?”

“Yes. That’s where we found out about Burke. The other three … I saw their bodies.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant.”

“Are we done?” Vanessa growled, and Park nodded. He made his way toward the front of the jet.

“Our squad got hit hard,” Carrie Brennan commented from the seat beside her, and Vanessa had to bite back a harsh retort. Of course they’d been hit hard; their team had been engaging highly trained warriors while everyone else was in retreat.

“They knew the risks,” she muttered. “We all knew the f-fucking r-hisks …”

She was forced to stop by another coughing fit, the pain of which was like shards of glass up and down her sternum. Gasping, tears of agony running down her face, she reached out and grabbed the portable oxygen tank that the medic had set her up with, putting the cup to her face and breathing as deeply as she could between coughs.

When Vanessa had recovered somewhat, Carrie said, “Wasn’t implying anything, Ness.”

“I know,” Vanessa said around the oxygen cup. “I’m just tired, and my lungs are fucked up, and I don’t really need any reminders that I lost four men tonight.”

“Way you told it to Park, it sounds like it coulda been worse.”

“We knew the Ay’Araf was good. We just didn’t know he was that good. It’s my fault.”

“How do you figure?”

Vanessa set the mask back down, trying to keep her breathing shallow. “I should’ve told Janus to shoot them the second we saw them. I let them get their bearings and … fuck, he was just so fast. They’re all so fast.”

“Not like Burilgi-hunting,” Carrie said.

“No. A ten-year-old Burilgi … I mean, they’re not that different from regular people. They don’t know how to fight, don’t know tactics, don’t know anything. They’re not that fast or strong, either. This guy and the one-armed ice queen who follows him around were something else.”

“Well, he’s dead now, anyway.”

“Yeah. He’s dead, and the Captain saved my life.”

“She’s pretty good,” Carrie said, and Vanessa nodded.

“They wouldn’t have brought in all the experts if they hadn’t thought she was special. They were right … she’s amazing.”

“Word is she hasn’t spoken to anyone since you guys got back.”

“That’s not so unusual,” Vanessa said, not wanting to bring up the Captain’s reaction to the vampire with the short, blonde hair.

“No, I guess not.”

Vanessa coughed a little and took a breath from the oxygen tank. “I think I’m going to try to sleep. Still an hour before we even take off.”

“Right. Ness, listen …”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry it didn’t go better. It … can’t be easy.”

Vanessa closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “It’s not.”

There was an awkward silence, and Vanessa knew Carrie was waiting for more, but there wasn’t any more to be said. She had lost four men to the vampires, and that was bad, but what was she going to do – break down and cry? That wasn’t going to happen. Perhaps in private, but for damn sure not in front of Carrie and the others on the plane.

If only I’d told Janus to fire, she thought for what must have been the hundredth time that night. But she hadn’t, and there was no going back. There was no way to replay the situation now and make a different choice, and no guarantee even if she could that things would go any better. That bastard Ay’Araf had been too good, and now her men were dead and the Captain was traumatized. She wondered what Charles would have to say.

Eventually, Carrie gave up. Vanessa could hear the girl flipping through a magazine. She kept her eyes closed, breathing, focusing on trying not to cough and not to think about the events earlier that night. After a time, she slept.

* * *

“Vanessa, my dear, are you all right?”

She hadn’t expected Charles to be at the airfield, but it was not his presence that had caused the shock on her face; it was his appearance. When last she had seen him, he had been thin, but now he was positively gaunt, his clothing hanging about him like loose sails on a wind-forsaken ship. His face was sunken and pale, but for the red rings around his eyes, and there was an air of frailty about him that was impossible to ignore.

“No … I mean, sorry, I just … wasn’t expecting …” she stammered, unsure how to proceed, but Charles merely smiled.

“I was referring to the mask hanging around your neck and the bottle of oxygen in your hand.”

“Oh!” Vanessa exclaimed, trying to regain her composure. “Right, of course. I’m uh … I took in a lot of smoke, but it’s getting better. I’m not coughing as much.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, but I must insist you visit the infirmary first thing. Your report can wait.”

“The field medic said—”

Charles held up a hand, the act of it seeming to require enough effort that the strain deepened the lines in his face. “The field medic has neither the training nor the equipment that Doctor Chambers has.”

“But Charles …”

“Must I make this an official order, Lieutenant?”

Vanessa sulked for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “No, sir.”

“Very good. On the ride to the base, you can give me an overview.” Charles turned toward a waiting Town Car.

“Sir, my team …”

“I’m quite certain they will be able to find their way back to headquarters on their own, Vanessa,” Charles said without looking back.

Vanessa glanced back over her shoulder at the surviving members of the team. With the exception of the Captain, who was nowhere to be seen, they were still offloading equipment. She knew she should be helping them, but knew also that when Charles gave an order, he expected it to be followed.

Fuck it, I’ll apologize later, she thought, and she turned to follow him. Charles had reached the Town Car and was holding the rear door open. Vanessa made her way to the car and sat down, letting Charles close the door for her. A large man was seated behind the wheel, and he turned and nodded at her.

“Morning, ma’am.”

“Good morning,” Vanessa said. She was used to drivers, but this one – a massive hulk of a guy – looked awkward and out of place, uncomfortable in his role. She thought it likely he was more of a security guard than a chauffeur.

Charles sat down in the front seat and closed his door. He nodded to the driver, who started the car and put it into gear, pulling out from the hangar and onto the road that would lead them away from O’Hare Airport. From there it would be nearly an hour to their base of operations in Waukegan.

Charles glanced over his shoulder at her and said, “I will spare you the most difficult aspect of this conversation. I am aware that we have suffered heavy losses, and that your team in particular was hit hard. You needn’t describe that in detail at this time.”

“Thanks. Charles, I’m sorry, but is your driver cleared for this? There are some high-security subjects I need to touch on.”

“Manuel is on loan from the Emperor himself,” Charles said. “His loyalty is absolute, his silence assured, and there is no subject that you need consider off limits.”

Vanessa had never met the man before, nor could she remember so much as seeing his face in the hallways. She supposed his duties for the Emperor kept him away from the regular troops. He was staring serenely out at the highway as if unaware he had become a topic of discussion.

“OK,” she said. “No offense, Manuel.”

“None taken, ma’am,” Manuel replied. His eyes never left the road, but he smiled a bit, as if amused by her concern.

“Go ahead, Vanessa,” Charles said.

She took a moment to collect her thoughts, and then she began. “The attack went as expected, but not as hoped. The charges worked fine, and things started well. I don’t mean to question Colonel Palowski, but sending in a bunch of green recruits first might not have been the best idea. They didn’t do much in the way of killing vampires, and a lot of them got cut down.”

“This was the single most important action in your campaign, Vanessa,” Charles said. “We knew that by throwing the cathedral into complete chaos, it would give the more seasoned troops – like yours – the opportunity to do real damage to the council members. To do that, we had to separate them from the other vampires in attendance. To do that, some sacrifices had to be made up front.”

Vanessa felt something inside of her rising up at the cavalier tone in Charles’s voice, but she made an effort to fight it off. This caused another coughing fit.

“Yes, you’re definitely seeing the doctor as soon as we arrive,” Charles said, his voice amused.

“Maybe we both should!” Vanessa snapped without meaning to, and then felt her cheeks warming. Charles looked again over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched.

“Do you really think he hasn’t seen me already?” he asked, and Vanessa shrugged.

“Last time I saw you, you said you were fine.”

“Yes, well, I suspect the time for putting on a bold face has passed.”

“What’s wrong?”

“That is something we can discuss later. For now, please … tell me what happened.”

Vanessa took a breath – shallow, still, trying not to induce another coughing fit – and continued. “Burke shot the Ames woman, but it wasn’t a kill. I lost track of him after that, but I heard he took a blade to the head. Janus and Paulo were stationed at the exits as planned. I entered and engaged with the council leader. He didn’t have a weapon and adopted a large candlestick.”

“I take it that went poorly?” Charles asked.

“I cut off his head,” Vanessa said. She had felt satisfaction at the time, but felt little of it now. Too much had gone wrong.

“Very good,” Charles said.

“That was the last thing that went right,” Vanessa said. “I had a chance at taking Ames out as well, but another vampire fired at me. I didn’t get a good look, but I think it was the guy who showed up out of nowhere a couple of years ago with the blonde girl.”

“Yes, we’ve been monitoring them. The woman has been in combat training, but her patron seemed uninterested.”

“He’s halfway competent with a gun, anyway,” Vanessa said. “I saw him and dove out of the way, but the shot would have been good. After that, I crawled back behind the altar and lost track of them for a time.”

“Did you have a firearm?”

“I did, but the position was terrible. I was in a depression with limited visibility, and I was concerned that trying to fire from there would only bring a bunch of them down on my head. I saw Ames escape with the mystery vampire, and the blonde girl went with the two Ay’Araf into the office wing. I left my location and met up with Janus, Paulo, and Connors, and told them that the Ay’Araf head was the most important target remaining.”

“An accurate assessment.”

“Right, well, we followed them into the office wing and engaged them. I … Janus wanted to open fire, but I told him to wait for the Captain. It was a mistake and I take full responsibility for what happened next.”

“What did happen next, Lieutenant?” Charles asked. His voice was light, but Vanessa could nonetheless feel the weight of his judgment bearing down on her. Surely he would be disappointed.

“The two Ay’Araf attacked without warning,” she said. “I ordered Janus to fire, but … Charles, the speed of these things is amazing. It’s like watching the Captain, only this man moved like a dancer. He slid under the bullets and when he came up, he took Janus’s gun hand off in one swing.”

Charles was nodding. “I trust you have a better understanding now of why we were so loathe to attack the vampire council before Captain Perrault fell into our hands?”

“Very much so, sir.” Vanessa said, and began to detail the fight. She explained what had happened to Janus, Connors, and Oliveira, and finished by admitting her own inability to handle the Ay’Araf councilmember by herself. “He would have killed me if the Captain hadn’t arrived.”

“You don’t sound particularly happy with the Captain,” Charles commented.

“Do I have permission to speak freely?” Vanessa asked him.

Charles laughed. “When have you ever needed my permission to do that?”

“Where the hell was she? She hung back until half the building was on fire.”

Charles looked over his shoulder again, this time favoring her with a sympathetic smile. “The Captain was obeying orders delivered to her by the Emperor himself. She was not to engage at all unless your team had not returned by a specified time.”

“But why? She’s goddamned indestructible. I might still have my squad if she had been there from the start.”

Charles sighed and shook his head. “Captain Perrault is not indestructible. Vanessa, I know it is difficult even for the most devoted of subjects, but you must trust in the Emperor’s wisdom and vision. He gave me those orders, and I relayed them to the Captain, and she followed them to the letter, as always.”

“I would never question the Emperor. I had no idea she was acting on his orders, sir. She didn’t tell me.”

“No, I suppose she wouldn’t have. Captain Perrault is not particularly talkative.”

Vanessa gave a small laugh. “Uh … no.”

“It is to my great pleasure that she arrived when she did, and so kept us from losing you. I lament the loss of your men and can only assure you that their sacrifice was not in vain. We have struck a blow to the vampires of America that the Emperor and I believe will prove fatal.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Vanessa told him. She was tired and hurt, but it was the truth. If all they had done in the past few weeks really meant the eventual elimination of vampires in America, she knew her men would’ve considered their lives well spent.

“So the Captain killed the senior Ay’Araf?”

“Yes. She cut his head off.”

“Very good. What of the two women?”

Vanessa sighed. “This is where it gets complicated.”

Charles glanced back at her, one eyebrow raised, but opted not to speak. Eventually Vanessa continued.

“The Ay’Araf woman moved out of my sight while fighting Paulo. She must have … they had a secret exit that we weren’t aware of. She was able to rendezvous with another vampire, who then attempted to rescue the blonde woman.”

“It seems as if they must have been far too late for that.”

“They would have been, but the Captain … Charles, she recognized the blonde woman.”

Charles did not look back at her again, but she saw him grow stiff, as if holding back some much-stronger reaction. At last he said, almost casually, “She what?”

“She stopped dead in her tracks and said, ‘I know you,’ and the blonde woman agreed. She seemed surprised the Captain hadn’t already realized this.”

“I see,” Charles said. “What then, please?”

“The Captain became severely agitated. The blonde woman called her by her first name and asked what we’d done to her. It was pretty obvious she knew the Captain. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I waited, but the Captain seemed to be busy trying to recall her memories. I asked her what to do and she shouted that I should kill the blonde woman, but the tone of her voice … I’m sorry, Charles, but she sounded scared. I’ve never heard her like that.”

“Fear is not an emotion she deals with frequently,” Charles said. “Vanessa, did you kill the blonde woman?”

“I tried. Just as I was advancing on her, the other vampire – the one from the passage – called to her. She turned and ran, and she’s very fast. She made it to the secret passage and I caught up just in time to hear them lock it from the other side.”

“Damn it,” Charles muttered, the words barely audible. Vanessa didn’t like the tone of his voice one bit; it sounded defeated, the voice of someone already under a great deal of stress who has been informed of some new, terrible thing. For a time they drove in silence, the mile markers on the highway moving by.

“You told me that everyone she knew from that part of her life was dead,” Vanessa said.

Charles sighed, the sound old and papery, and passed a hand across his brow. “I did.”

“Was it a lie or an oversight?”

“Even the Emperor’s vision failed to see this possibility,” Charles said. His voice sounded distant and dazed.

“That doesn’t even remotely answer my question,” Vanessa muttered.

“She was human. Her part in this was done.”

“Charles, what the hell are you talking about?”

Charles seemed to force himself out of his reverie. He turned again to Vanessa and said, “The blonde woman is almost assuredly the one who killed Abraham. We should have realized. She must have found another patron and returned to their ranks.”

“That little thing killed Abraham?” Vanessa asked, aghast. For most of her time with the Children, Abraham had been a figure of near-mythic power and evil. The idea that he had been brought down by a girl barely into her twenties seemed beyond ridiculous.

“I can see no other possibility,” Charles said. “I did not lie to you when I said that all of the vampires from Captain Perrault’s life were dead. I merely failed to mention that one of the people involved was no longer a vampire. The Eresh-Chen, the daughter of Abraham’s heir … she returned to humanity and we had no way to track her. We didn’t even know her name, and we never could get Captain Perrault to divulge it before … oh, damn it all.”

“So this means the Captain has a friend on the other side?”

“Not if she can’t remember her,” Charles said.

“Charles … why can’t the Captain remember?”

“The moment you are cleared by the doctor, I want you working on your report,” Charles said, ignoring her question. “Give exacting detail in all areas, but pay special attention to the Captain’s encounter with this woman. Scour your brain, Vanessa, and make sure you report it exactly as it happened.”

“OK, but—”

“Further, I must insist that you watch the Captain carefully and report to me at once if there is any change in her behavior. This is vitally important to us and our cause. You must understand that.”

“I understand. I’ll watch her. Of course I will. But Charles, please …”

“When she first joined us, Captain Perrault underwent a series of conditioning drills meant to improve and enhance her abilities. Some of these drills were mental in nature, and an effort was made to divorce her current self from her previous lives, both as a vampire and as a human.”

“So you brainwashed her?”

“That is an ugly, simplistic term for a beautiful, complex process,” Charles said, his disdain evident in his voice. “What the Emperor did was free her. He freed her from the awful chains of her past and allowed her to realize her full potential. I must admit, I am disappointed to hear that she has any recollection of this woman whatsoever. I can only assume that we stepped down her conditioning too quickly. Those who were in charge of her development will hear from me about it.”

“What do I do if the Captain brings up the encounter?” Vanessa asked.

“Change the subject if at all possible, and downplay the event if not. Should that happen, report it to me at the earliest possible moment. Day or night, Vanessa, do you understand?”

“Yes, Charles.”

“Very good. My girl, you are a truly superior member of our organization. I am so very glad you were not lost in the battle.”

Vanessa felt her cheeks warming despite the reservations she still harbored about these new revelations. Compliments from Charles had always made her feel like this.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You are most welcome. Now, I think I shall meditate. You have given me much to think on, and we’ve still quite a bit of driving left. I trust you don’t mind?”

“No, not at all,” Vanessa said, though she felt a minor flash of annoyance. She was being dismissed, even though she wasn’t actually going anywhere. She supposed that she, too, should be meditating on the events of the previous night. How unfortunate, then, that she felt meditation to be a worthless waste of time.

Charles had already disengaged from the conversation, and Manuel didn’t seem to be the talking type. Vanessa put her oxygen mask over her face and took a few deep breaths, exercising her lungs as the medic had told her to. This made her cough, for a bit, but the pain was nowhere near as intense as it had been before. After it was done, she rested her head against the window and closed her eyes.

* * *

Charles was waiting for her in the hallway when she finished with the doctor, which surprised her. He hadn’t spoken to her after her debriefing in the car, and she had expected him to go immediately to his office.

“Still here?” she asked as she left the infirmary. Charles looked up and smiled.

“I care about your health, Vanessa. Additionally, there was something else I wanted to speak to you about, but I wanted to wait until we were sure you were checked out. Has the doctor cleared you to—?”

“He said I was fine, which I could have told you in the first place,” Vanessa said, but she was glad Charles had made her go. Hearing the news from Doctor Chambers was much more reassuring than hearing it from a field medic whose name she didn’t even know.

“Of course. Forgive an old man his concern,” Charles said, smiling at her. They began to walk along the hall, moving slowly. Charles did everything slowly now, it seemed.

“You’re not old,” Vanessa tried, and Charles gave her a wry smile.

“I feel old, lately.”

“You going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“No, I don’t think so. Not yet. Tend to yourself, Vanessa, and remember that no one else will ever do so with as much care. Not even me. Not even your brother.”

“My brother can go to hell,” Vanessa growled, and Charles turned his gaze upon her. Sick and weak or not, it still reminded her very much of being sized up by some large, predatory bird, and after a moment she looked away.

“Do you mean that?” Charles asked her, and Vanessa sighed.

“He’s a traitor and a coward. Charles, we’ve been through this. The Children have my loyalty until the day I die. Wherever my brother goes, whatever he does, I don’t care.”

Charles considered this declaration. They were nearing the elevators when he spoke again.

“Your brother is in a holding cell on sublevel three. We found him in Atlanta three days ago.”

If he was looking for a reaction, Vanessa wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She forced herself to continue breathing calmly, to continue walking, and to speak in a tone of vague interest.

“Oh?” she asked. “What are you planning on doing with him?”

Charles nodded, as if pleased with this response. “To be honest, we aren’t sure yet. We had high hopes for him, but we gave him the wrong mission. It was a poor decision. The question the Emperor has now, of course, is whether he can be redeemed.”

“I doubt it,” Vanessa muttered. “Prime chance to kill a bat, and he just wanders off? How are you going to redeem that?”

Charles shrugged. “Have you never made a mistake?”

“Never one that dumb,” Vanessa replied. They had reached the elevators and were standing before them, but Charles had not yet pressed the button.

“The Emperor can be highly persuasive, but only when he is roused to be so,” Charles said. “We were hoping you might visit your brother and speak with him, to help determine if it’s worth the Emperor’s time to pay a personal visit.”

Vanessa didn’t know whether to be impressed or offended. What had her traitor brother ever done to deserve a personal visit from the Emperor of the Sun? Vanessa, a model soldier herself, had only ever been graced with his presence during a ceremony involving thirteen other people.

“I don’t have the first idea how to evaluate him,” she said.

Charles seemed unimpressed. He gave her a cool glance and said, “He is your brother, and if there is anyone in this building capable of judging him, it is you. I will not make you do this, Vanessa, but I very much wish that you would. He was a fine operative, and if there is hope for those such as Captain Perrault, surely there must be hope for him.”

Vanessa considered this for a time and said, “OK. If it will make you happy, I’ll talk to him. They’d better keep some bars between us, though, or I’m just going to end up strangling him. He never knew when to shut up, and I swear to God he makes a sport out of pissing me off.”

Charles laughed a bit. “Yes, I remember.”

Vanessa reached out and pressed the down button on the elevator.

“The guards have instructions to let you pass,” Charles said. “Take as long as you need. You need not report to me immediately afterwards. I’ve no doubt you are exhausted. Get some rest, write your reports, and then schedule a meeting with me. We’ll discuss your brother then.”

“All right. If you think it will help the Emperor, then I’m happy to do it.”

“Everything you have done since you came here has helped the Emperor.”

“Oh, come on …”

“Truly, Vanessa. You are one of our finest soldiers. I understand that you are disappointed with last night’s action, but if you are in any way worried about the Emperor’s judgment, then let me assuage those doubts right now. He is very pleased. I have heard it from him personally, and I can assure you that your promotion to Captain is but a mere formality at this point.”

Vanessa felt her cheeks warm again and turned away from Charles for a moment to collect herself. Captain? That was crazy. She had only been made lieutenant a few months ago.

As if guessing her thoughts, Charles said, “It seems fast, I know, but you have proven yourself. Again and again, you have proven yourself. We are watching, Vanessa – the Emperor, the colonels, and me. He sees all, and through him we see as well. You are the very best we—”

Charles stopped speaking suddenly and looked up, and to the left, as if receiving word from on high. His right eye twitched once, and then again, and he drew in a sharp breath. He began to make a noise, loud and high pitched, like an engine with a slipped belt that screeches, shrill, in the middle of the night. His lips pulled back in a grimace that made Vanessa wince.

“Charles?! Are you OK?” she cried, dimly aware that behind her the elevator doors were opening. Two people stepped out and stopped, frozen in their tracks. A small, silver strand of drool had begun to run from the left side of Charles’s mouth, which was frozen in rictus, and Vanessa felt for one short moment the obscene urge to reach forward and wipe it away.

If I don’t do something, he’s going to die right here, Vanessa thought, and a bright streak of adrenaline flashed through her, seeming to loosen the grip that fear and panic had held on her body. She spun to the soldiers behind her and saw that she knew one of them.

“Woodson, go get Doctor Chambers, right fucking now!” she snarled. The blonde boy – he was barely more than eighteen – didn’t disappoint her, taking off down the hall without so much as a ‘yes, ma’am.’ The other one – a tall, black recruit whose name she didn’t know – stared at her, and Vanessa stabbed a finger at him.

“Take off your shirt. Take it off!”

He did as he was told, pulling the grey T-shirt over his head and holding it out to her. Vanessa snatched it from his hands and spun again, back toward Charles, whose entire body had seized and contorted, twisting like the limbs of a water-starved tree in some distant desert.

“You’re going to be fine, Charles,” she said. She dropped the shirt on the ground and stepped forward, stooping down and placing one hand against the back of his knees. With the other she took his shoulder and pulled, and this seemed to break his paralysis. He slumped and she caught him, helping him to the ground and resting his head on the balled-up shirt. His eyes had rolled upward, and while the screeching noise had stopped, he was now making a clicking, coughing noise that she liked even less.

“Lieutenant?” the private asked, uncertain of what to do next.

“Empty your pockets,” Vanessa said, and even in the midst of this crisis, she was able to appreciate the fact that he didn’t ask her why; he just did what he was told. His pockets contained a keychain, a battered wallet, a multi-tool and a pen. She grabbed this last with one hand and extended it out to him.

“Get that between his teeth and over his tongue. Move, private!”

The soldier leaned forward, prying open the jaws that Charles had clenched so tightly shut, and pushed the pen in. It caught in Charles’s molars, holding his tongue down. The speed and intensity of his noises – those click-click-cough sounds that made her spine crawl – intensified, and for a moment she thought this was the end, but then they faltered, and his seizures seemed to lessen.

“Good,” she said. “You all right?”

“Better than him,” the soldier said, and Vanessa gave a short, surprised laugh.

“No kidding. Listen, you stay here and help me keep this old, ugly motherfucker alive, OK? I am not going to let him die in some shitty hallway. We clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She heard the sound of running feet in the hallways and looked up to see the first private, Woodson, returning with Doctor Chambers.

“What happened?” the doctor asked as he ran up, dropping down to his knees next to Vanessa.

“Seizure, I think,” she said. “He was right in the middle of talking and just … locked up. We did the best we could.”

“You did fine. The pen was good. We don’t need our friend choking to death on his own tongue.”

No, Vanessa thought. We really don’t need that.

The doctor was holding one of Charles’s eyes open, shining a small light into it. There was no consciousness or comprehension to be found there, just an empty gaze. The doctor shook his head and made a small noise of distaste.

“We’re going to have to move him,” he said, standing up. “Stay here with him. I’m going to send someone back with a gurney.”

“Hey, sure,” Vanessa said. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere, at least not until she was sure Charles was stabilized.

The doctor hurried off down the hall, and Vanessa rubbed a hand across her face and shook her head, trying to clear it. She had already been tired, the small sleep on the flight home doing little for her, and now that the adrenaline was leaving her body she felt suddenly exhausted. Fuzzy.

“Can we do anything else to help, Lieutenant?” Private Woodson asked her, and Vanessa shook her head.

“No. Wait, yes. Stick around and help me when it’s time to lift him. After that I’ll let you go, and if I made you late for anything, just tell the officer in charge to take it up with me directly. I’ll smooth it out.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Woodson said, and for a few moments they stayed like that in silence. Vanessa looked down and was surprised to see that she was holding Charles’s hand; she couldn’t remember having taken it.

“I am so fucking tired,” she said to no one in particular.

“Heard you had a busy night, Lieutenant,” Woodson ventured.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Guess you get to add saving the Emperor’s Left Hand to your list.”

Vanessa gave him a wan smile. “I’d rather have skipped that one. I’d be asleep by now, and this guy would be down in his office writing reports.”

“Yeah. And I’d be running laps.”

“Guess you didn’t make out too bad,” Vanessa said, and he laughed.

“Guess not.”

Vanessa could see a young woman in a white coat rushing up the hall with a gurney. In a few moments more, they were lifting Charles up onto it, and he was headed back toward the infirmary. Vanessa dismissed the privates and, not knowing what else to do, turned and headed for the medical wing.

* * *

After four days, Charles had shown no signs of waking up. Vanessa visited him at times, between sleeping, writing her reports, physical training, and briefing what was left of her squad. She watched Captain Perrault as best she could to see if there were any changes in her behavior, but there was nothing perceptible. The woman had always kept to herself, and that hadn’t changed; Vanessa barely saw her.

Vanessa had wondered whether her promotion to captain would have to wait for Charles to wake up, if he ever did, but that turned out not to be the case. Colonel Palowski had contacted her less than twelve hours after her return to Chicago and made it official, handing her a set of gold bars and shaking her hand. Upon her return to the barracks, Park and Carrie had surprised her with two bottles of champagne and a fifth of whiskey.

They’d gotten drunk and reminisced about their exploits with Janus and Burke, Paulo and Connors. They were all of similar ages and had come up together. Now four of them were dead, but they had died in glorious combat with the enemy during what had proved a highly successful mission. The vampires were scattered and running scared. It was wonderful, even though it was also awful, and in between cheers and laughter Vanessa had twice found herself near tears. Drunk and depressed and elated all at the same time, she had finally climbed into bed.

She still needed more men, and was unsure from where to draw them. Other captains and lieutenants watched their squads like hawks. Lifting some green rookie was one thing, but pulling a fully capable combatant from another squad, let alone a soldier as talented as her people had been, was something else entirely. No officer in their right mind would let someone like that go.

She wanted to talk to Charles about it, but the man appeared to be in a deep coma. Doctor Chambers had confided in her that he was not sure whether Charles would ever come out of it. The three colonels – Palowski, Miller, and Davis – had stepped up in his absence, but eventually the Emperor was going to have to pick a new Left Hand. Even if Charles awoke, it was obvious that the stress of his duties was becoming too much for him.

She had taken to reading to Charles from her reports, hoping that some of what she had to say might penetrate through whatever was ailing him and remind him that there were people who still needed his help and advice. Her most recent report, which she had filed with the three colonels only hours before, related a lengthy discussion – she didn’t quite dare call it an argument – with Captain Perrault about tactics.

“The Captain told me that she thought we were waiting too long. We spoke about this at great length, and the Captain confided in me that she possessed a great need to hunt and that our current inaction was only amplifying this need. She told me it was a curse that she inherited during her – and I quote these words exactly – ‘brief, lamentable time’ as a vampire.”

She glanced up at the clock. In two hours, she was due to run her diminished squad through their training exercises. There should be plenty of time to finish, especially since Charles presently made so excellent a listener.

“I was taken aback by this dialog. The Captain rarely speaks of anything personal with me, and has never before mentioned her time as a vampire. The closest she has ever come in the past was the phrase ‘the time before the Children,’ by which she seemed to imply everything from her birth up to the day that Charles recruited her. To hear her speak so directly about being a vampire, and about her need to hunt, was disconcerting.

“I expressed to the Captain my belief that various squad members needed time to heal and decompress, and she lashed out at me, saying that she had no time for anyone with such frail bodies or psyches. Here I will quote her exact words at some length …”

She glanced over at Charles, who was still breathing peacefully, eyes closed. Was any of this getting through to him? Did it matter? What was she hoping to accomplish and why did she even care? He was an old, sick man, and he was not her father. Her father had been dead for almost fifteen years.

Vanessa closed her eyes and tried to remember what her father had looked like, and she was dismayed by how long it took her to conjure up his image. She had a few pictures, of course, shoved in a shoebox at the back of her closet, but she had long ago put the man in the ground, both physically and mentally. Digging out the shoebox sometimes felt like digging up a grave. Still, there was something disturbing about not being able to pull up his face at a moment’s notice, the way she had been able to as a teenager. It was—

“Were you intending on reading me the Captain’s quote, or is your story finished for the day?” Charles asked her in a weak, hoarse voice, and Vanessa gasped, turning to stare at him. He was looking up at her with half-lidded eyes, or more accurately with one, as the left eye seemed to be looking off into the distance.

“You’re awake?” Vanessa asked, hating the incredulity that was so audible in her voice.

“I am,” Charles said, his voice still cracked and broken. “I have been for, oh, a few paragraphs now, though I must admit I cannot pinpoint the exact moment I became aware you were reading to me. Please, Vanessa, could you find me some water?”

“Absolutely. Listen, Charles, I should tell Doc Chambers that—”

“Not yet,” he said, and managed to hold up a hand. “Water, please, and then a moment of your time.”

Vanessa thought about protesting and decided against it. If Charles wanted to postpone his talk with the doctor, who was she to argue with him? She stood and crossed to the sink at the far end of the infirmary, filled a paper cup with water, and brought it back to him. Charles reached out with his right hand, but it was shaking so much that she made a sound of negation and with her own hand brought the cup to his lips. He drank, coughed a little, drank some more, and laid his head back against the pillow.

“I can feel the left half of my body, but cannot make it move,” he said, and the tone of his voice conveyed not disturbance but mere curiosity.

“Can I do anything else for you?” Vanessa asked, and Charles made a sighing, laughing sound, and he managed to shake his head.

“I think not. Thank you for your kindness, Vanessa. I may not have been awake for much of the past few days, and when I was I could not speak, but there have been moments of lucidity here and there. You’ve brought me a great deal of comfort in what I believe are my final days.”

“Don’t—”

“One must at times accept the inevitable, my dear,” Charles said. “The tumor in the center of my brain reached the size of a golf ball weeks ago and only continues to grow.”

Vanessa absorbed this information in silence, finally asking, “There’s nothing they can do?”

“We discussed some possible treatments, and Doctor Chambers wanted to go forth with them, but it was clear he held little belief they would work. In the end, it would be a long, debilitating, and painful round of chemotherapy and radiation, the result of which would be that I would lose all of my hair, spend my time constantly vomiting, and still be left at the end with an inoperable tumor consuming more and more of my brain. I chose to pass.”

“Oh, Charles …”

“Please, Vanessa, if you would do me any favors, then spare me your pity. I have lived my life in service to my Emperor, and that service has been good. I have helped him to find his greatest weapon and launch the largest assault against vampire society since the time of the Incas. I will die with as much dignity as my current condition will allow.”

Vanessa was quiet for a time, considering this, and at last she nodded. “Fine, then. No pity, but you have to tell me how to help make your … whatever time you have left, what can I do to make it good for you?”

Charles smiled and closed his eyes, and for a moment Vanessa thought he had slipped back into the depths of coma. Then he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, looked over at her with his good right eye, and said, “The Emperor will need a new Left Hand.”

“Which one of the colonels are you going to choose?” Vanessa asked, and Charles made a feeble attempt to shake his head.

“It won’t be one of them. It will be someone younger, someone who can be molded, someone who will take the time and make the effort to understand the ways and reasoning of our Emperor. It will be someone with the strength to tolerate his power and the foresight to understand his vision.”

Charles looked over at her, and his parched lips formed something that resembled a smile, although she noticed – and it broke her heart to see it – that the left side of his mouth could not fully curl.

“I have recommended you,” he told her, and for a time Vanessa found herself unable to respond. She sat in her chair, first looking at him and then staring for a long while at the blank wall to her right.

“I’m not ready,” she told him at last, and Charles again made that wheezing, laughing noise.

“No one could be,” he said.

“I’m not … I’m only a captain. Barely that. I’m too young.”

“You are a year older than I was, when I was chosen.”

“I’m not experienced enough!”

“You have more tactical experience than any previous Left Hand.”

“But my squad … my people …”

“All of the Emperor’s Children will now be your people,” Charles told her. His tone was calm and confident, neither perturbed nor dissuaded by her arguments.

“Charles, this is insane. You can’t be serious. Let me get Doctor Chambers. He can—”

“The only thing Doctor Chambers can do for me now is keep me comfortable until the inevitable, Vanessa. I do not believe that will be very long. For now, I assure you, I am not insane. I have already nominated you. I did so months ago, when this malady first came to my attention. When he thinks the time is right, the Emperor will bless you, and you will be made his Left Hand. It is already done. You are my choice.”

Vanessa bit her lower lip, so hard and for so long and with so little conscious thought that she was surprised by the sudden salt taste of blood seeping around her teeth and onto her tongue.

“Charles, I’m scared,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, and at this Charles favored her with the kindest, most sincere smile she could remember receiving since her parents’ deaths.

“So was I,” he told her.

“What if I’m not good enough?”

“The most important thing is that you are true to yourself. Vanessa, the Emperor is not looking for a sycophant. He has many of those, and their worth to him is quite low. You and Captain Perrault are something better. You will think on your own, make choices on your own, and sometimes the Emperor will not agree with those choices. You have the strength to stand up for yourself even against the force he can bring to bear.”

“How can you know?” she asked him. “How can you possibly know?”

Charles looked up at the ceiling and smiled again that awful smile that only touched half of his face. “I can’t. I can only guess, and choose as best as I am able. I have chosen you.”

“What if I won’t accept it?” she asked.

“Then you won’t. My dear, that choice lies entirely with you. By the time the Emperor comes to you, I will be dead.”

Vanessa clenched her teeth together but forced herself to stop voicing her objections as soon as they came to mind. Instead she tried to relax, tried to take deep breaths and remain rational.

When she felt like she had some handle on her emotions, she said, “Tell me everything I should know,” and Charles again looked over at her.

“I do not have enough time left for that,” he said. “So instead I will tell you those things you must know. Vanessa, you must listen to what I have to say carefully and you must not interrupt me, for any reason, until I am finished. Listen to every single word first. Will you do that for me?”

“Sure,” Vanessa said, and she saw Charles’s brow crease in the first expression of genuine displeasure he had made since waking up.

“That flippant, nonsense tone does nothing whatsoever to reassure me,” he said. “Will you promise not to speak until I have finished? Will you promise on your life, Vanessa Harper?”

“Charles … yes. I promise on my life, I will not speak a word until you’re done. OK? You have my solemn word. I’m done until you say you’re done, starting right now.”

Charles closed his eyes and nodded at this, and for a moment the room hung in silence. Vanessa could hear the hissing noise of the tank pumping oxygen through the tubes that led to his nose, and a small, persistent clicking from some internal component of his IV setup.

His words, when they came, were halting at first, and guarded, but as he moved along they began to string together into longer bursts. He spoke at length on a variety of subjects, on the man she would be expected to serve and the tasks she would be expected to perform. He spoke of the unbroken line of Left Hands reaching back to the founding of the Children of the Sun by the Incas. He spoke of honor, and duty, and obligation.

He spoke, and spoke, and by the time he had finished, Vanessa had stayed well past the point by which she had been told to report with her squad for training. It didn’t really seem to matter much to her by then. The things that Charles was telling her consumed all of her attention and energy. There was no concern left for such inconsequential, mundane aspects of everyday life.

When at last he finished and gave her permission to speak, Vanessa could think of absolutely nothing to say. She had no words with which to respond to what Charles had told her, and she was not sure she ever would. She sat unable, it seemed, even to form a coherent thought.

Charles reached out with his good right hand, and wrapped it around hers, and squeezed tightly. Vanessa looked down at it with incredulity and then back up at him. These things he had told her … she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

And so, for a time, she did both.

Chapter 17
The Plan

They chose to meet for what they knew might be the final gathering of the American council of vampires not in Naomi’s apartment, but in the bar Rhes managed in the East Village. Two cleared it with him first, promising there would be no drama and that they would leave the waitress an exorbitant tip. Rhes, for his part, had been fine with the idea and promised to reserve a table for them.

They chose the location in no small part because it was the very last place in which anyone would think such a meeting would be held. It would also be loud, and virtually certain not to be bugged, thus eliminating the possibility of eavesdropping. Naomi’s apartment was likely safe as well, but Two and Theroen had insisted that she had done enough already.

Rhes was not there when they arrived, having already put in a full shift and gone home to Sarah, Molly, and the new baby. He had told Two to expect this, and while she understood that he was needed at home, Two wished desperately that she could have seen her friend; in times like these, she missed Rhes’s kind and caring nature so much that it was almost a physical ache. Still, she was glad that he was not involved, and glad that Sarah, and Molly, and Nathan were safe.

Two, Theroen, and Naomi were greeted instead by a pretty Asian girl with black hair that reached almost to the small of her back. She led the trio toward a table in the back.

“Wow, this place is nice,” Two said as they were sitting down, and the girl smiled at them.

“Thanks! We’ve got forty-six beers on tap, more than a hundred bottles, and a kickass wine list. There’s a cocktail menu, too, and the kitchen’s still open for another hour.”

“I believe we will be sticking to drinks,” Theroen said, thanking her as she handed him a beer list.

“Sure thing. Rhes told me to tell you that we have a bottle of 2002, uh … God, sorry, I’m going to mangle this … Boozy-joar? It’s not on the list but he said it’s good.”

“Château Beauséjour,” Naomi said. “It’s a Bordeaux and it’s exquisite. Please do bring the bottle.”

“Awesome! Three glasses?”

“I’m probably going for a beer,” Two said. “I need another minute though.”

“You might as well bring extra glasses anyway,” Naomi said. “We have others coming who might be interested.”

“No problem. I’ll go get the wine. My name’s Amy and I’m around all night – just wave or shout!”

She left, and Two glanced again around the bar. She had spent many hours in Sid’s, the Brooklyn pub at which Rhes had worked for many years, but hadn’t yet been to this new bar he’d helped open. The décor and furniture were modern, focusing on dark wood and copper. The lighting was low, and there was a good amount of crowd noise in addition to the ambient electronica being piped in through speakers. This suited the vampires’ interests very well.

Naomi was looking at her phone. “Sasha says she’ll be here in ten minutes. She’s picking up Leonore.”

“See? I told you they were starting to get along,” Two said.

“Yes, I’m sure it will be a love story for the ages,” Naomi said, her voice dry. She slid the phone back into her purse.

Two saw Lewis, the Burilgi councilor, making his way through the crowd, and she waved to him. He smiled and headed for their table, shaking everyone’s hands and sitting down across from Two, next to Naomi.

“It’s good to see you all,” he said. “That first night … I wasn’t sure how many of you made it out.”

“It’s very good to see you as well, Lewis,” Naomi said. “How are your wounds?”

“Oh, they’re all set. Couple of scabs, now.”

“Very good.”

Lewis glanced around, grinning. “I don’t think I’ve been in a bar since the ‘70s. I can’t drink and Richard kept asking me what the point was of going, and eventually I realized he was right.”

“We were sorry to hear about Richard,” Naomi said, and Lewis nodded.

“Best friend I ever had, and I’ll miss the guy for as many years as I have left. You know that’s why I’m here, Naomi. We have to finish this.”

“That seems to be the consensus,” Theroen said. “Our goal tonight is to put together the actual strategy for doing so.”

Amy returned with the wine and opened it for Naomi, who tasted it, smiled broadly, and nodded. Amy poured full glasses for Naomi and Theroen, and Two ordered a stout. Lewis declined a beverage, and Amy left again.

“You have no idea how much I envy you that beer,” Lewis told Two, and she laughed.

“I haven’t had one in months.”

“That’s nothing,” Lewis replied, grinning. “The last beer I had was in Innsbruck, back in 1945. Got bitten five days after that.”

“Here come the others,” Theroen said, gesturing toward the front of the building. Two saw that Sasha had retrieved a spare prosthetic and was thus in possession of two arms again. The Ay’Araf woman sat down on Naomi’s other side, and Leonore sat on Two’s left. The group exchanged light pleasantries for a time. Sasha ordered a vodka martini and Leonore settled for water. When all of the drinks had arrived, Two took the initiative and began the discussion.

“All right, look – we’re operating with a really limited window here. The Children are back home in their base healing up, probably getting ready to go after the rest of us. Now’s the time to attack, but we have to do it without them realizing it’s happening and diving underground. Just to make things more difficult, I want a six-hour head start so Theroen and I can get in there and try to talk some sense into Tori.”

“I still think that part of the plan is madness,” Sasha said. She and Two had reached an uneasy truce on the subject of Tori. The Ay’Araf woman would not actively seek Tori out, but neither should Two allow the two of them to come into close proximity.

“You are not alone,” Naomi replied.

“I know none of you think it can work and, no offense, I don’t give a shit. We’re going to try it anyway.”

“At any rate,” Sasha continued, “I have forty-six Ay’Araf who have committed to moving on my signal. That is nearly every one of them in America.”

“Nicely done!” Lewis said, and Sasha turned her eyes down, smiling a little, her cheeks going pink.

“They are furious about Jakob,” she said. “I just gave them something to rally around.”

“Or perhaps they think you’re a capable leader and are willing to follow you,” Naomi suggested. Sasha shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“I’ve got people too,” Lewis said. “My number’s bigger, but I bet Sasha’s group could wipe mine out pretty easily. I might have been exaggerating when I called it an army, but I can mobilize close to three hundred in the next week if you need me to, though some of them …”

His voice trailed off, and the group looked at him, waiting for him to continue. At last he said, “Look, I’ll be honest, some of them don’t like you very much. A few of them actually fought against you, when the whole Aros thing went down. Two, I uh … I’m pretty sure you shot one of them in the shoulder, actually.”

“Super,” Two said. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see me.”

“He’ll be fine. I haven’t even bothered with the ones who are still pissed off at the council. There are a lot of people who’ve been impressed with the way you guys have reached out since everything went down. The only way we’re going to convince the others is to just keep doing it.”

“Assuming we actually survive,” Sasha muttered.

“There’s no point in focusing on that,” Two said. “We know the risks and we’re here anyway. Between Sasha and Lewis, we can drop about three hundred and fifty people on the Children. That’s a hundred more than Kanene estimated their forces at.”

“If we cannot defeat them with those numbers, then we most likely cannot defeat them,” Naomi said. She finished off her glass of wine and refilled it.

“Naomi, might I try that?” Leonore asked. “I have been around long enough now that I can stomach a glass or two without consequence. I rarely get to try wine that has been ordered by people who know what they’re doing.”

Naomi looked surprised, both at the request and at the politeness with which Leonore was speaking. “Of course,” she said, and she poured into one of the extra glasses, handing it to Leonore. The Eresh woman put her nose to the glass and breathed deeply, and a rare smile broke out on her face.

“That is lovely,” she said, and Naomi laughed.

“You can credit Two’s friend, Rhes. It was his suggestion.”

“It was a good choice. Thank you, Naomi.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

There was quiet for a moment at the table, and then Two glanced around at her friends and spoke.

“How are we going to do it? How do we move hundreds of vampires without the Children noticing? That’s crazy, right? I mean, what are we going to do, charter one of those gigantic, two-story planes?”

“That seems unsubtle,” Theroen said.

Two stuck her tongue out at him. “No shit. So how do we do it? There has to be a way.”

“First and foremost, I think everyone sitting at this table needs to be among the last to move,” Sasha said.

“Why?” Two asked, and Sasha turned, raising an eyebrow.

“If they are watching anyone, is it not more likely to be us than a random Burilgi in North Dakota?

“I still think if they were watching, we’d all be dead,” Two replied, but then held up her hands in concession. “You have a point, though.”

Lewis spoke up. “I agree that whatever we do, the council members should only head for Chicago when we’re really ready to get started. We’ll want to stagger our departures, but probably not by more than forty-eight hours.”

“By the time they realize we’ve all left, most of us will already be there,” Two said.

“Yes,” Naomi said. “Coordinating the six of us, however, is not the problem here. We need to handle the three hundred and fifty other vampires.”

“The answer seems obvious to me,” Leonore said, a little of the haughty tone they knew so well returning to her voice. The others turned to look at her.

“Please enlighten us,” Naomi said, keeping her voice pleasant, and Sasha made a small noise that Two thought was a laugh. Leonore shot the Ay’Araf woman a brief look of displeasure but chose to continue without comment.

“Waukegan is practically as close to Milwaukee as it is to Chicago, and it is not so far away from Indianapolis or St. Paul, either. I think we should fly our people into all of those airports. The Children will be less likely to notice a few vampires coming in at a time, through many different locations, than if we arrive in O’Hare en masse. We can station them at motels along the highways that run through Illinois, which will draw less attention than renting out an entire hotel. When the time comes to strike, the six of us fly in and collect the forces. If we begin at dusk, we can have everyone easily assembled before midnight on the night of our choosing.”

There was silence for a time as everyone digested these suggestions. Two spoke first. “That is a pretty fucking good plan.”

Leonore gave her a cool glance. “Of course it is.”

“Not to rain on the parade, but I can’t land at sunset,” Lewis said. “That would mean traveling during the day, and unlike some of you guys, I can barely survive that.”

“It wouldn’t be pleasant for me, either,” Sasha said.

“We could send the two of you to Milwaukee the night before,” Two said. “That still fits in the forty-eight hour window, and I don’t think the Children are going to call a full evacuation based on a couple of vampires taking a vacation.”

“If we go first, that should work,” Lewis said. “The rest of you can handle the sun, right?”

“That’s correct,” Naomi said. Her voice was far away, and she seemed to be pondering the plan that Leonore had laid out.

“Two and I can operate during the day, but we are hardly at our best,” Theroen said.

“You’re going to have to spend some time under the sun, at least in transit,” Leonore said. “It’s the middle of July.”

“Yeah, we’ll be lucky to have nine hours of darkness,” Two said. “That’s just how it is. Too bad they didn’t attack us in December.”

“I’m sure they chose to attack during the height of summer for that reason,” Naomi said. She was contemplating the last of her glass of wine, still distant.

“Something about this isn’t working for you, is it?” Two asked, and Naomi looked up, as if just becoming aware the others were watching her.

“What? Oh, no, I think it’s an excellent plan. We will have to organize transportation and lodging, and the council will have to cover expenses for those willing to fight, but we can manage that.”

“So what were you thinking about just now?” Lewis asked.

“I am wondering whether I should go,” Naomi said. “I am not useless in a fight, but neither am I a great warrior. I don’t have the tactical skills necessary to direct battles, and it may help our cause if I were to remain here, should anyone be watching.”

“Do you want to go?” Theroen asked, and Naomi made a scoffing noise.

“I would sooner pull out my toenails,” she said.

“So that’s a no, then?” Two asked, and Naomi gave her a small smile.

“The last time I went on one of these adventures, one of my greatest friends was stabbed to death in front of me. I’ve no flair for commanding troops, so if you don’t need me there, I will gladly sit this one out.”

“We should hold off on any definitive plans for ourselves until we have arranged for all the others,” Theroen said. “Still, I see no reason why you would have to accompany us. My primary concern is leaving you alone and exposed.”

“I don’t have to leave my apartment,” Naomi replied. “I think if they had that under surveillance, we would know by now.”

“She’s probably right,” Lewis said. “It seems like they’ve pulled almost everyone back, probably getting ready for another attack. It’s the best time for us to hit them, while they think we’re still scattered and disorganized.”

“So, fine, Naomi stays,” Two said. “I’m all for it. We still need to figure out how we’re moving hundreds of vampires to Chicago.”

“Waukegan,” Leonore corrected.

“Dude, I’m from Brooklyn. It’s all fly-over to me,” Two said.

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. “The good people of Illinois – Chicago’s my home town, I might add – thank you for your assessment of our fair state. Anyway, I’d recommend we start working on this now. Tonight, if possible. Naomi, forgive me, but is it safe to assume the council has the funds to cover all of this?”

“Yes,” Naomi said without hesitation. As William’s apprentice, she had access to all of the council’s most sensitive information, including its finances.

“Do they, like … submit expense reports?” Two asked, and Naomi laughed a little, shaking her head.

“Lewis tells me where to book the rooms, and how many of them to book, and under whose names. I pull out my little black card with no limits on it and make some phone calls. Then I transfer some money from the council’s accounts to my own and report doing so at the next official council meeting, assuming we are successful and the council still exists.”

“Nice,” Two said. She remembered the black card; Naomi had used it to buy her an entire new wardrobe after the Burilgi had ransacked her apartment.

“It seems like everything is settled, then,” Sasha said. She drained the last of her martini and glanced around at the others to see if they concurred.

“Everything except the date,” Theroen said.

“Two weeks seems a reasonable window,” Leonore said. “The Children are unlikely to redeploy so quickly, and we should be able to move any Burilgi or Ay’Araf who are willing to help within that time.”

Lewis and Sasha were nodding. Two glanced at Theroen and Naomi, but neither seemed to have any objections.

“OK,” she said. “Theroen and I will talk with Kanene about getting in there. Once we pick a day, I want a promise you won’t hit them until midnight. That’s all I’m asking. After that, assume we’re dead and come at them with everything you have.”

“And if you’re not dead?” Sasha asked.

“Then we’ll still be working to get Tori out of there, and if that’s just not possible, well … so be it. You know whose side we’re on. You know what we’re willing to do if it comes to that. Both of us have fought and killed for the council already.”

“What if you have to fight and kill Tori?” Naomi asked, and Two glared at her.

“I told you, you know whose side we’re on,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about that, OK? Even if Tori won’t come with us.”

“I have never doubted your loyalty for one moment, Two,” Naomi said. “I was merely curious. It may come down to the two of you versus her. That’s the simple truth.”

“If she tries to kill us, then she tries to kill us,” Two said. “It’s not really a hard choice. If it’s me and Theroen or her, I’m choosing the two of us. If she threatens him, then I’ll kill her myself.”

“My hero,” Theroen said quietly, his voice dry, and there was some laughter around the table. Two glanced over at him, shaking her head.

“It’s not funny,” she said.

“Of course not,” Theroen agreed. “None of it is funny, and if I joke, Two, it is only to keep from giving in to despair. For all her troubles and flaws, Tori is my sister and I will forever regret the part I played in what she has gone through. If it comes down to it, we will try to kill her, but I would no more do violence to Tori than you would. It is because I hope so much to avoid this that I have agreed to go with you on this mad adventure.”

Two’s expression softened, and she nodded. “OK, you’re right. It’s not funny, but if there’s anyone here who should shut up about making jokes under pressure, it’s me. Sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry about,” Theroen said serenely.

“Two weeks from now is Saturday, August second,” Sasha said, glancing at her phone.

“Do you think a Saturday night is the right time?” Lewis asked.

“Pretty sure it’s fine,” Two said. “I don’t know if they’re allowed to go out, but it might actually be better if some of them are hitting the bars.”

There was general agreement with this statement, and for a moment the group found itself at a loss for words. Finally, Leonore spoke.

“So, are we finished here, then?” she asked.

“Not quite,” Naomi said, and she reached forward, taking the bottle of wine and refilling Theroen’s glass, and Leonore’s, and her own.

“What’s left?” Two asked, and Naomi grinned; it was one of the genuine smiles that had become so rare from her of late.

“Nothing,” she said. “I simply refuse to let this council disband so long as there is any wine left in this wonderful bottle.”

Chapter 18
Final Thoughts

“Where you been, Ness?” Carrie asked as she came into the room where her squad slept, and Vanessa gave a kind of cynical laugh but didn’t respond, choosing instead to drop onto one of the unused lower bunks – she thought it had once belonged to Connors – and lie staring upward, breathing slowly. Carrie, who had been sitting on her own bunk and cleaning her service pistol, glanced up in surprise.

“You OK?” she asked.

“Been better,” Vanessa said, still staring at the mattress above. Carrie set aside the pieces of her gun, crossed the room, and hunkered down next to her.

“Did Charles … I mean, is he …”

“He’s still alive,” Vanessa said. “He’s even awake. We had a lot to talk about. That’s why I missed practice. Was Dillinger pissed?”

“Nah. I mean, he said if you didn’t have a good excuse he was going to tear your arms off, but then he said you probably did have a good excuse.”

“When the Emperor’s Left Hand tells you to stay and listen …” Vanessa began, and Carrie nodded.

“You stay and listen. Got it. What did he have to say?”

Vanessa considered this question for a time. “Not sure I want to talk about that.”

Carrie seemed momentarily unsure how to respond to this, and Vanessa glanced over at her as the silence expanded. As she did so, she caught the tail end of some emotion – she thought it was disappointment – leaving Carrie’s face.

“Hey, sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I don’t want to talk about it with you. It’s just some crazy shit. I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

Carrie made her best effort to look baffled by Vanessa’s concern and said, “You do what you gotta do, Ness.”

Vanessa smiled at her. “Thanks. Listen … I know you didn’t tell anyone about the Captain and the bat we met that she thought she knew. I would’ve heard about it by now if you did. I really appreciate that. I’m glad I can trust you.”

Carrie smiled, a bit of a blush rising to her cheeks, and glanced away. “You know, you can’t just call her ‘the Captain’ anymore. You’re one of those now, too.”

Vanessa had completely forgotten this fact amidst the revelations that Charles had shared with her earlier, and she smiled.

“Guess you’re right. Going to take me a while to get used to that.”

“How’s Charles? You said he’s talking?”

“Yeah … least he was when I left. It’s bad, Carrie. It’s really fucking bad, and he’s not going to last much longer. This is another one of those things that I need you to keep to yourself, OK? I have to tell someone because I can’t deal with it all alone, and I really trust you.”

Carrie’s blush deepened, but this time she didn’t look away. She only smiled, and nodded, and said in her lisping voice, “I understand, Ness.”

Vanessa sighed and glanced up at the mattress above her before speaking. She was startled to feel tears spring to her eyes – and by the effort it took to push them back.

“It’s cancer,” she said. “It’s deep down in his brain, and there’s nothing they can do except try to make him comfortable.”

Carrie winced. “Ugh, Jesus, he’s not even old!”

“No. He’s not old at all, but he’s dying. I’m not sure he has a month left. Shit, I’m not sure he has a week left. Doc Chambers wasn’t even sure he was ever going to come out of that coma.”

“He’s tough,” Carrie said. “I think he’s tougher than a lot of grunts like me even realize.”

“You’re not a grunt,” Vanessa told her, and Carrie laughed.

“I’m not an officer. Haven’t even got a silver bar, and you’ve got two gold ones.”

“Yeah, but …”

“It’s never gonna happen. Look, Ness, I’ve made my peace with it. I’m great with the equipment, and that’s all they need from me. I don’t have the tactics to be an officer. I guess they’d give me a bump if I got out there and killed one of the really old vampires myself, like I always dreamed, but I won’t. One eye means shitty depth perception, and that means I can’t shoot. If you can’t shoot and you’re not a tactical whiz, you get to man the surveillance system in the van when the real hunters go after the big game. It’s all right.”

“Yeah, no, you totally sound like it’s all right,” Vanessa growled, and Carrie laughed.

“OK, it sucks,” she admitted. “But I can live with being a grunt, because at least we get to go out in the field. Captain Perrault’s the only one at her rank who’s out there a lot, and she’s a pretty fucking unique case.”

“I’m out there,” Vanessa said.

“You think that’ll keep happening?” Carrie asked. “How many other captains have any major confirmed kills? They’re going to make you start hanging back, Ness, and that’s fine. You’re too fucking smart and valuable to waste on some dipshit vampire that gets lucky. That’s what grunts are for. That’s what people like Janus and Burke and Connors and Paulo are for, may they all rest in peace. Not one of them made it past Corporal.”

“Are you trying to depress the living shit out of me, or is it just happening by accident?”

“I guess the latter.”

“Well, nice job.”

“Sorry, Ness. I’m just trying to tell you I’m not jealous. I’m happy for you. You’re a born commander and you’re going to keep on climbing. I bet you make colonel someday.”

Vanessa gave a harsh, disgusted laugh, and said, “No, I don’t think so. I don’t think that will be happening.”

“But you’re—”

“Trust me, Carrie. There is no chance that I will ever be a colonel. Fucking Charles … he made sure of that. He … God damn it.”

Vanessa could feel the tears stinging at her eyes again, and she rubbed a hand angrily across her face. God damn Charles, yes. The things he had told her could never be taken back, and they would never be far from the front of her mind. In preparing her to become the next Left Hand of the Emperor of the Sun, he had damned her forever to mental agony, the very same that he must have suffered all of these years. She wondered for a moment if the tumor in his brain was a direct result.

Carrie easily picked up on her distress. “Ness … what’s wrong? You can tell me, I promise.”

Vanessa shook her head. “No, I can’t. I made some promises of my own tonight that I don’t know how to keep. I promised things to a dying man who has looked after me for more years than my real father had the chance to, and I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to do the things I promised him. I just … want it to end.”

“What, like all the vampires dead?”

Vanessa considered this in silence for a long time, looking again at the coiled steel springs that held the mattress above her aloft.

“I don’t even know anymore,” she said. “Sometimes I just want it to be over. Right now. Today. But there’s still so much more to go.”

“Ness, I can’t … it’s hard to understand you if you won’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Look, it’s just a tough time right now. I’ll admit that. I lost four men, had a crazy situation with Captain Perrault, and was almost asphyxiated. Then I came home and tried to give my report to Charles, and he had a seizure and went into a coma. When he woke up, he told me he was dying and then laid a whole shitload of confidential information on me that I can’t share with anyone other than the Emperor, who I’ve never even talked to. I’m not in the best place right now.”

Carrie considered this and then nodded, giving a small laugh. “I suppose that’s fair.”

Vanessa took a deep breath and forced herself away from the edge of tears. “Thanks for understanding, Sergeant.”

“My pleasure, Captain,” Carrie said, and she stood up, stretching her arms against the steel support of the top bunk. “Listen … I’m here. I want to help.”

Vanessa felt a great surge of love run through her, not just for this woman but for all of her soldiers, the men and women who were willing to die for her – some of whom had already made that sacrifice. What had she done to deserve this kind of loyalty? How had she come to be the leader that she was?

“Carrie …”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll be the first one,” Vanessa said. “When it’s time, you’ll hear it first.”

“It’s going to be pretty big, huh?” Carrie asked her, and Vanessa managed a tired smile. She was not at all confident in that smile, not sure that it looked anything like it should have, but it would have to do. She owed it to those of her soldiers who remained to fight on.

“Huge,” she said, and she laughed, shaking her head. “It’s going to be huge.”

* * *

“Did you speak with your brother?” Charles asked her, his voice little more than a whisper, and after the words she could hear the slight squeal of the artificial lung that now sat beside his bed, helping him to breathe. In just a few days his condition had deteriorated alarmingly.

“Yeah, we talked,” Vanessa said. She was sitting in a chair to his right, trying her best to look at Charles in the same way she would look at anyone else. It wasn’t easy; his bad eye now moved randomly, seemingly with a mind of its own, and his pallor had become so pronounced, his body so thin, that she could see the intricate web work of the blood vessels in his face.

Charles had given Doctor Chambers permission to share all of the details about his condition with Vanessa. She met with Chambers often for status updates, and the doctor had confided that he doubted Charles would last the week, particularly given the strict no-resuscitation orders the man had given. Sooner or later, the tumor growing rapidly and unchecked inside of his brain would cause some essential part of his body to fail, and that would be the end of it.

“You talked. Good. How is he?”

“Oh, he’s dandy, Charles. Life in a cell really suits him.”

Charles made a wheezing noise that Vanessa thought was supposed to be laughter. The sound sent shivers up her spine, and to stop it she spoke again.

“He’s not interested in cooperating. He says he didn’t sign up to kill innocent people.”

“Innocent …” Charles repeated, and for a time there was no sound but the hums and clicks and squeaks of the various pieces of medical equipment keeping him alive.

“He told me I should come back and tell you he can’t be redeemed,” Vanessa said. “He said he was broken and it wasn’t worth the Emperor’s time to try and fix him. He said he didn’t know how it happened … it just happened.”

“There are ways—” Charles began, and Vanessa cut him off, shaking her head.

“He said he’s not taking any pills or drinking anything other than water, and he’ll fight injections. If you try and slip it into his food and he realizes it, he’ll go on a hunger strike. He says he’s done, Charles, and I … he’s my brother, and it kills me to say this, but I think he means it.”

“What does he propose we do with him?” Charles asked, and then broke into a coughing fit. Vanessa found herself up on her feet, adrenaline racing through her veins, but Charles waved her off.

“I will live yet a bit longer,” he said.

“Is there anything I can do? I wish I could … I don’t know …”

“Make it all go away?” Charles asked, smiling with the good half of his mouth.

“Yes!” Vanessa exclaimed, sitting back down. “This isn’t fair.”

“Death is an end we all must face,” Charles told her. He was staring up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly, letting the mechanical lung do its work.

“Not the vampires,” Vanessa murmured, and Charles rolled his head to the side to look at her.

“That is why your work is so important,” he said.

“I know. I know it is.”

“That is why you must take up the mantle. You must become the new Left Hand, the Staff of Knowledge, the—”

“I already said ‘yes,’” Vanessa told him. “Charles, I already said I would do it. I already accepted all of the shit you threw at my feet with no warning, and I’ve spent the past couple of days trying not to think too hard about that decision. Don’t make me go back to it yet.”

“Very well,” Charles said. “My apologies, Vanessa.”

“S’OK. Sorry for getting angry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry about. I am an old, tired man, and when one reaches this point in one’s life, it is not uncommon to become very concerned with one’s legacy. We are so close. If we take the U.S., then Canada, Mexico, and South America will fall in only a few short years. With the new supply of recruits that would give us, we could move on to Europe or Africa. Even Asia. Can you imagine releasing more than a billion Chinese people from the scourge?”

“That would be pretty amazing,” Vanessa agreed. She had no idea how many vampires there were in China. Even the best estimates they could make amounted to little more than shots in the dark. If there was but one vampire for every hundred thousand humans – a number much lower than the ratio in America – there would still be more than thirteen thousand vampires in mainland China alone. The idea of sitting at the left hand of the Emperor as he guided a force large enough to assault such a number was hard to imagine.

“I will not be there to see the end,” Charles said. “I thought I had time. Ten more years, at least, perhaps even twenty. We could do so much in twenty years. Surely this entire hemisphere could be wiped clean, and we could be well established in Europe and Asia.”

“We’ll do our best, Charles.”

“Yes, I’ve no doubt. Ah … I would have so enjoyed climbing the steps at Choquequirao, knowing that we had at last restored the Children to the glory that Pizarro stole from us all those centuries ago. Will you do something for me?”

“Anything I can.”

“When I am gone, will you keep my ashes safe? Keep them, and if you reach those steps, scatter them to all the Andes. I would like that very much.”

Vanessa had no idea if she would ever get the chance to visit the ancient Incan city, but she promised nonetheless. She would have promised to take his ashes to the moon to make him happy, and she was sure that Charles knew that. Still, he seemed satisfied, and for a time there was no conversation. Vanessa sat and worked on her reports. Charles lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking whatever it was that dying men thought about.

“The Emperor will have your brother killed,” he said at last.

“I know,” Vanessa said. “He knows, too.”

“He is ready to accept that fate?”

“He says he is.”

Charles gave a weary sigh. “Such a waste.”

Vanessa had already done her crying about it, in a private shower where she was sure no one would hear. She had cried for her brother, and for their family, and for the stupid, awful world in which they had spent all of their lives since that terrible night. There would be more suffering to come, she knew, but for the time being there was nothing to do but wait. In a matter of weeks, Charles and her brother would be dead, and she would be the Emperor’s Left Hand, and they would launch the third and final attack on what remained of the American council of vampires. These things seemed so impossible to avoid that they might have been preordained.

“My brother made his choice,” she said. “He walked out on that bat and washed his hands of all of it. Listen, Charles, I have to go. Captain Perrault and I are reviewing some recruits.”

“I understand,” Charles said.

“I’ll come back this evening, OK? I want to talk to you about Captain Perrault. She’s … I’m a little worried.”

“Of course, Vanessa. Thank you for spending your time with me.”

Vanessa stood, stretched, and smiled. “It’s no problem. I’ll see you soon.”

When she reached the door she turned and gave a little wave, and was surprised to see Charles manage to wave back, raising his right hand up a bit before letting it slump back to the bed. Vanessa smiled, and turned, and left the room. It was the last time she saw him alive.

Part V

Chapter 19
Inside

When it came to actually sneaking into a fortified building filled with more than two hundred people who were intent on killing her and all those like her, Two found herself more nervous than she had anticipated.

She and Theroen had planned for almost two weeks while the other members of the council had been strategizing, assembling vampires, and deploying them to various spots along the route. The night before, she and Theroen had driven in a rented car from Milwaukee to Waukegan, where they had spent several hours talking with Kanene. As they had moved along the road, Two had seen sign after sign advertising hotels, and she wondered how many Burilgi or Ay’Araf might be housed at each.

It had seemed to Kanene that the Children had no idea that the vampires were mobilizing. Certainly there had not been a mass evacuation from the base that she was aware of. The timing was as good as it could get, the Ay’Araf woman had told them, and it had been obvious that she was anxious to join the fight. Now, the day had come.

Two found herself a ball of nervous energy, fighting the urge to twist in her seat, or go over yet again the photos and floor plans she had spent the past week studying. She and Theroen were making the short drive from their hotel, the sun still up, both of them fighting the accompanying exhaustion and discomfort. They would have little more than six hours to find Tori and try to convince her to see reason.

“Theroen, am I crazy?” Two asked him as they drove, and he glanced over at her, smiling a little.

“Is that a trick question?”

“Not this time. This is nuts. It’s fucking nuts, right, what I’m making you do?”

Theroen’s smile faded. “This is a poor time for second thoughts, my love.”

“I know. I’m just scared. I’m scared of losing you again, and it’s my fault we’re even in this situation, and I shoulda just kept my stupid mouth shut and let you take me to Europe, but no, I had to go and—”

“Two,” Theroen interrupted. “Stop talking and take three deep breaths. Just listen to me and do it. One. Two … good. Three. Now, let us take a moment to assess. We are three miles from our destination, which is admittedly not quite the point of no return, but it is getting close. Every vampire involved in this has been told that Theroen-Sa and the Theroen-Chen are going first, in an attempt to pacify the greatest by far of the Children’s soldiers. Further, one of our prime duties is to open the loading bay doors at midnight, if we can. Further—”

“Yeah, but—”

“Further,” Theroen said, his voice overriding hers, and then he paused for a moment, and glanced over at her, and smiled. “Further, I love you, and I believe in you, and I believe in your belief in me. We will get into this building undetected. We will find Tori and either convince her or neutralize her. We will open the bay doors at midnight. We will help our people win this war.”

“Yeah?” asked Two, but she couldn’t help smiling a little. “You sure about all of that, Theroen-Sa? Or are you just saying it to make me feel better?”

Theroen glanced over at her and then back through the windshield. “We are here.”

“Saved by the bell,” Two muttered as they pulled into an empty parking lot a block away and across the street from the Children’s headquarters. “OK, baby. Let’s do this thing and then go home, slam down some blood, and fuck like rabbits ‘til we pass out.”

“You know, above all else, what I appreciate about you is your class and elegance,” Theroen said, opening his door and stepping out. Two laughed.

“Right, sorry,” she said, exiting as well. “Let’s do this thing and then retreat to our homestead, partake in a draught of exquisite blood, and make soft, sweet love until the wee hours of the morning.”

“I think I liked your first version better,” Theroen told her.

Two made a noise of amusement, but her attention was now focused on the building that lay down the block. It was a simple, four-story, red-brick structure with small windows and a single entrance at its front. It looked like any other building, and it was difficult to believe that within its walls, and more specifically within the confines of its subbasements, an entire army of vampire hunters was going about its daily business.

“OK, so we know the front door isn’t gonna get the job done,” Two said, shading her eyes. The exposed parts of her skin were already beginning to feel like someone had placed them under a heat lamp. She was wearing a loose-fitting pair of synthetic pants with Kevlar reinforcements, meant for motorcyclists, and a long-sleeve shirt of like material that she had found online. Theroen was in a similar outfit. The clothing would not stop a bullet, but would offer at least some protection against injury.

“Yes, we will use the roof as we planned,” Theroen said. He opened the trunk and took from it two long, tubular satchels. He tossed one to Two and slung the other over his shoulder. She did the same with hers.

“Right. Kanene said the access point was on the northwest side.”

“Then that is where we will go.”

“Do you think the lock will still be broken?” Two asked, and Theroen shrugged. He hit a button on his key fob and the rental car chirped. They weren’t worried about the vehicle – the car could remain in the lot for more than forty-eight hours without attracting any attention. By that time they would either have returned or they would be dead.

“It is possible,” Theroen said, walking toward the street. “On the one hand, you would think they would do routine sweeps of the building’s exits. On the other hand, if they had noticed anything, would it not have set them on alert?”

“I don’t even know what to think about these guys,” Two said.

They crossed the street, staying well away from the Children’s building, and stepped into an alley. It was early August, and Waukegan was suffering through a heat wave. The temperature was hovering in the mid-nineties, with no wind coming in off the nearby Lake Michigan to provide any comfort. The alley smelled like organic refuse in high rot, a kind of sickly-sweet scent with repugnant undertones. Two wrinkled her nose and glanced at Theroen, who shrugged.

There was a garbage dumpster at the end of the alley and, several feet above it, the painted iron ladder of a fire escape. Theroen put his hands on the dumpster and shoved, hauling himself upward. Once there, he reached a hand down to Two, who glanced at it in distaste.

“Remember that we do not get sick,” Theroen told her.

“Still wish I had some Purell or something,” she said, and took his hand, letting him haul her up. Once there, she wiped her hand on her pants, and Theroen rolled his eyes. Without further comment, he knelt down, cupping his hands together to make a step for Two. She put her foot in it, and he jerked upward with his shoulders, standing up at the same time. Two was propelled seven feet above his head, easily grabbing the ladder and stabilizing herself.

“Heads up,” she said, stepping onto the balcony and releasing the latch that sent the ladder down to street level. Theroen grabbed hold of it, climbed up, and hauled the ladder up behind him.

“Just in case any police officer happens to wander down the alley,” he said.

“Better safe than sorry, I guess.”

“Exactly.”

Theroen began to make his way up the various levels of the fire escape. They weren’t worried about anyone seeing them through the building’s windows. This particular business kept regular hours, and it was just before six in the evening on a Saturday. There was likely no one there to observe them. Still, they made their way quickly up to the roof and, once there, kept low in order to avoid suspicion.

They stopped at the building’s edge and sat down, their backs to the three-foot wall that ran around the perimeter. Theroen turned and looked over, briefly scanning their path, and sat back down.

“It is an easy run half-way down the block,” Theroen said. “Then there is a jump across an alley.”

“I saw it,” Two said. “Looks like … what, ten feet? Twelve?”

“I would guess twelve. Can you—”

“Come on. I’ve got your fuckin’ superhero blood all up in these veins, don’t I?”

Theroen grinned, nodded, looked again over the edge of the building. “I think that is the only major gap, and I think once we go, we should just go as fast as we can until we are on their roof. I … this is so absurd, Two. I do not know the first thing about espionage.”

“Me neither, but we’re fast and pretty quiet, and if we have to we can kill someone really quickly. I’ve got combat training from one of the best, and you’ve got awesome instincts and blood. That’s gotta count for something.”

“I certainly hope so,” Theroen said. “Nonetheless, I wish we could at least wait for the cover of darkness.”

“Me too, but we need the time. I don’t know about you, but the idea of sitting out here crisping in the sun for the next three hours and then trying to do everything before midnight doesn’t appeal to me.”

“No, we have to do it now. At the very least we must get inside and away from the sun before it saps all of our energy.”

“Right. So don’t worry about espionage for now, just worry about getting over to their roof and getting into that stairwell. That’ll be a step up from this frying pan, at least.”

“True,” Theroen said, and looked again over the edge. “It seems the coast is as clear as it’s going to get. Shall we do this?”

“Let’s go,” Two said, and without waiting for him, knowing he was faster anyway, she turned and vaulted over the edge. It was a six-foot drop to the next building’s roof below, which she could have handled even as a human – at least before the heroin had stolen her reflexes. As a vampire, she barely registered the impact. She could hear Theroen behind her, and then next to her, as they crossed the roof.

They soon came to the jump, and if Theroen had any doubt in her abilities, he didn’t show it, leaping across the alley without a glance back. Two never hesitated. She knew what she was capable of and was sure her body would be up to the task. It didn’t let her down; she landed more than four feet past the edge of the building, still moving at a dead run, trying to keep up with her lover. They crossed another roof, and then another alley, this one narrower, and landed at their destination. Somewhere below their feet was the bulk of the Children’s forces.

“Well, we are still alive,” Theroen said after they had come to a halt. “I suppose that means I can stop worrying about laser trip wires or contact mines.”

“Were you worrying about those things?” Two asked him.

“I was worrying about a lot of things.”

Two shook her head. “I can never gauge you, even with all the mind-reading stuff. You’re always so goddamned calm.”

Theroen grinned and moved toward the entrance to the stairwell. “That is a specialty of mine.”

Two stepped up next to him, and for a moment they contemplated the door’s handle without speaking. Finally she said, “This feels so anticlimactic …”

“Yes,” Theroen replied.

“You want me to do it?”

“No. It might be electrified.”

“Oh for … you’re just fucking with me now, right?”

“Maybe,” Theroen said, but before she could respond, he reached out and grasped the door’s handle. Two felt adrenaline surge through her system, but Theroen seemed none the worse for wear. He pressed in the handle and pushed open the door.

“A fine start,” he said, and he stepped inside, turned, and beckoned for her to follow.

* * *

“What do you think they do in here?” Two asked, her voice hushed. “I mean … it can’t be all vampires all the time, right?”

They were standing at one end of a long, open room filled with cubicles, each of which contained a desk, a computer, and a chair. Some had been decorated with pictures or motivational posters. It looked like any other office space in America.

“Kanene believes they run some sort of semilegitimate shipping business from this location, and that many of the daytime employees are not members of the Children. She told me that trucks move in and out of the docking area all day long.”

They had spent the previous night in a nearby apartment that Kanene had rented to enable her observation of the Children. The Ay’Araf woman, dark-skinned and muscular, had looked much the worse for wear from her endeavors. She had taken in little blood and spent a great deal of time in the sun. The result was that many of her wounds were still healing, and her skin looked parched even by human standards. Nonetheless, she had assured them that she would be participating in the coming battle.

“So during the day they run the business and then at night they wander downstairs and figure out ways to murder us?” Two asked.

“That seems to be the case,” Theroen replied. He was looking around the room, gauging the quickest path across it. This first-floor cubicle farm was an unavoidable obstacle; the stairway to the roof had not led any deeper, and the elevators were on the other side of the building. Two thought it likely that there would be another stairwell there, as well.

“I don’t think anyone’s here, baby,” Two said, and Theroen nodded.

“No. I cannot sense anything at all in this building. I imagine the floor must be very thick.”

They began to walk, moving down the long central aisle between cubes. Two tried to keep her curiosity from getting the better of her, tried to avoid looking in at all the workspaces. She didn’t want to think of these people as normal human beings living normal lives; she wanted, needed, to think of them as the enemy.

They had nearly reached the end of the corridor when there was a rattling noise from the direction they were heading, and a door ahead of them began to open. Acting on instinct, Two and Theroen ducked quickly into one of the open cubicles. Two leaned up against the fabric wall, trying not to make any noise, holding her breath.

“Why would you even bring your gun to your desk, anyway?” a male voice asked, and they heard the sound of two people making their way down the corridor.

“In case the bats show up,” a female voice replied.

“In the middle of the day?”

“Day, night, I don’t care. I keep my gun with me everywhere except the gym, and that’s only ‘cause they won’t let me. I want to be ready.”

“Right … so ready that you forgot and left it in a drawer.”

“Shut up.”

The two of them laughed, moving on up the corridor and turning into one of the cubicles near the end.

“Move now or they will see us on the way back,” Theroen hissed into her ear, and taking her hand, he led her out and around the corner, ducking into another cubicle that didn’t open into the central corridor. Behind them, they heard footsteps again.

“You hear about the Emperor?” the female voice asked.

“No, what’s happening?”

“Gonna pick a new Left Hand this week. I hear it’s not going to be one of the colonels.”

“Wow, for real? Think it’ll be Captain Perrault?”

The woman made a scoffing noise. “She’s already the Right Hand, dumbass. I don’t think you can be both hands.”

“Oh … right. And it’s not going to be a colonel? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Just telling you what I heard.”

“Guess we’ll see. Come on, I want to hit the cafeteria before PT.”

There was the same rattling sound they had heard before, as the door opened and the two soldiers left the room. Two let out a long, soft exhalation and glanced over at Theroen.

“Captain Perrault,” he murmured.

“That’s our girl,” Two said. “Least she’s still around.”

“I must admit, I had little doubt.”

“Yeah, me neither. No way she was going to let herself get cooked.”

Theroen stood up and Two followed him. They stepped over to the door through which the two soldiers had exited. Theroen reached out and turned the handle, opening it slowly, trying to avoid the rattling noise. He was successful, and Two doubted that anyone but another vampire would have noticed the tiny clicks coming from the mechanism’s interior. Theroen peered through the crack, looking out into the hallway.

“Clear on that side,” he murmured and, opening the door a little further, he turned his head and peered around the edge in the opposite direction.

“Anybody?” Two asked.

“No, we are safe, but we must be quick. There is a bank of elevators at this end with no cover around them. If someone else decides to come up here, we will have very little time to act.”

“Probably have to fight them, if it goes down like that.”

“Yes. I would prefer to avoid it, if at all possible. There is a door to the left of the elevators. It is not marked, but I imagine it is our stairwell.”

“OK,” Two said. “Let’s go.”

They went, one after the other, moving quickly down toward the three elevators embedded in the far wall. The hallway was otherwise mostly unremarkable; there were two doors marked with male and female symbols and a water fountain between them. At other end was an industrial-looking door with a caution sign on it and below that a decal of a forklift.

“Warehouse is behind us,” Two said. “We need to open those doors.”

“Yes, but not yet. Someone might notice,” Theroen said. He was standing at the door at the end of the hall, peering in through the small glass window. Two glanced at the three elevators; each had a small, stainless-steel panel with numbers cut out of it, backlit in red, indicating that the elevator could travel four stories below ground. Only one was currently moving, and it was descending.

“OK,” she said. “Is that the staircase?”

“Yes, but we have a problem.”

“What’s up?” she asked, stepping up beside him. She wasn’t quite tall enough to look into the window, and the severe expression on Theroen’s face concerned her.

“There is someone down there. I can feel the touch of their mind. They do not seem to be moving.”

“You think it’s a guard?”

“Either that or someone who enjoys spending their time in a featureless stairwell,” Theroen said, his voice dry. Two elbowed him gently in the side.

“Don’t be a jerk,” she said, and Theroen glanced down, smiling at her.

“Very well.”

“What do you think … try to take out the guard or risk the elevators?”

“The latter idea horrifies me,” Theroen said. “The former does not thrill me either, but it seems our only option. We need to get out of this hallway.”

“Maybe there’s another staircase in the warehouse?” Two ventured.

“There was nothing like that on the floor plans, and at any rate it would likely be guarded as well.”

“True. So what do you want to do?”

Theroen bent down and began to murmur into her ear. When he finished his instructions, Two nodded. “I got it.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Ready as I’m gonna be.” She handed him her satchel, and he slung it over his shoulder with the one he already carried. Making as little noise as possible, she pressed the handle on the fire door and slipped it open, sliding through into the stairwell.                                           Theroen remained where he was, but he placed his foot in the path of the door to keep it from latching behind her.

Two walked along the concrete path to the edge of the stairwell and then sat down. Summoning up the acting skills she had been forced to develop in her previous life, she crossed her arms over her knees, leaned her head against them, and began to cry.

“Hello?” A male voice said almost immediately, and Two guessed it came from three or four floors down.

“I’m up here,” she said between fake sobs. “I’m sorry!”

“Sorry? Who the hell—?” The voice began, and Two heard him begin to ascend the steps.

“There was an open window,” Two said. “My friends dared me to climb in here from the roof, but I can’t get back out. Please don’t call the cops! My parents will kill me!”

The soldier was visible now, making his way up the stairs. Two kept her head down.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know this is private property?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s just … they dared me, and I thought it would be easy to climb back out, but it’s not, and the doors are all locked … and …”

The soldier had reached her level and come to stand beside her. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Look, relax. No one’s calling the cops. Come on, stop crying. I’ll open the front door and let you out, but you gotta promise not to come back, all right?”

“OK,” Two said, sniffling, and now she looked up at the soldier. He was young, maybe twenty years old, and wearing a pair of black combat pants and an unmarked grey T-shirt. There was a pistol strapped to his belt, but he hadn’t even unlatched the holster. He met her eyes, and she saw his widen.

“Hey, what are … Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ bat!” he exclaimed, and now he went for his gun. Two saw Theroen come up behind him and grab his hand before he could pull the pistol from its holster.

“Yes, she is,” he said, and without further hesitation he covered the man’s mouth with his other hand and sunk his teeth into the soldier’s neck. He wasn’t being careful, or gentle, and blood sprayed off to the side, splattering against the wall. Two heard the soldier screaming, the noise muffled by Theroen’s hand, and then his eyes rolled up and his knees went weak. In a few moments more, Theroen detached himself.

“Is he dead? Two asked.

“Yes,” Theroen said, letting the body slump to the ground.

“Gross.” Two felt mildly ill. Fighting with someone in the heat of battle and killing them was very different from luring them to their death in such a cold and calculating way. She tried to remind herself that the man had been reaching for his gun and would no doubt have shot her in the face if given time.

Theroen seemed to pick up on her thoughts, and he gave her an apologetic smile as he reached down to grab the guard underneath the arms.

“Where are you taking him?” Two asked.

“The bathroom in the hall. I suspect it sees little use on Saturdays.”

“Right, good idea. Do you … do you need help?”

“Just hold the door,” Theroen said, and in a single motion he knelt, slung the soldier’s body over his shoulder, and stood back up. Blood pattered onto the floor, and Theroen glanced down at it, grimacing. Two stepped around him and opened the door, looking at the numbers above the elevators. None were moving.

“Go for it,” she said, and Theroen carried the body quickly down the hall and into the men’s room. He was back in under a minute, and Two let the door close and latch. Both of them stepped away from the window and deeper into the stairwell.

“Two hundred and forty nine to go, I guess,” Two said.

“Midnight cannot come fast enough,” Theroen said. “Are you ready to move on?”

“Guess so. It’s going to get a lot harder now.”

“Yes.”

Two took her satchel back and set it on the ground. Unlatched, it rolled out to be about three feet square and contained her sword and scabbard, a belt with a holster, a Beretta 92FS pistol, and four extra clips.

“I’m putting this shit on now,” she said. “No reason to hide it anymore.”

Theroen nodded. He took his satchel from his shoulder, rolled it out on the floor, and began to prepare for the final confrontation.

* * *

“Jesus, this place is huge,” Two said, and beside her Theroen gave a quiet laugh. They were standing at the edge of a vast gymnasium that seemed to take up most of the lowest floor. There was a full-sized basketball court in the center, surrounded by a running track. Along its edges pieces of exercise equipment were arranged. It looked to Two like any modern sports club, and she was glad it was empty.

The stairwell had opened up onto a deserted hallway that they had followed to its only exit. The set of heavy wooden double doors had led to the gym. Two could see entrances to men’s and women’s locker rooms to her right, and to her left a door that was marked as leading to a pool and sauna.

“The plans we were able to obtain were woefully inadequate,” Theroen commented, looking around.

“Considering they didn’t mention that there was even one underground floor, let alone four of them, I’m gonna have to agree with you.”

“We are not going to find Tori on this floor.”

“Nah. But we had to start somewhere, right?”

They had decided to work their way up from the bottom and thus had begun on the fourth sublevel. After all, they still needed to return to the warehouse on the ground floor and open the bay doors. Two glanced at her watch and confirmed the time. It was now almost seven o’clock in the evening. They had five hours.

“We should return to the stairwell before anyone arrives,” Theroen said, and he turned to open the double doors behind them. Before he could, he stopped in his tracks and drew in a sharp breath of air. Two spun and peered through one of the small glass windows.

“Oh, fuck me …” she began, and then Theroen grabbed her shoulder and pulled her toward the nearest door, which gave entry to the women’s locker room. At the far end of the hall, emerging from the elevators, they had seen no less than twenty Children soldiers headed for the gym.

“We need to find a place to hide,” Theroen said as they ran, and Two made a noise of assent. A place to hide or another exit were the only options.

At first glance, the women’s locker room seemed to provide little hope of either. There were three banks of lockers, none of which the vampires could possibly fit into. Two could see a corridor leading off to her right that held perhaps a dozen individual showers, and she supposed as a last-ditch effort she and Theroen could try hiding in those, but that seemed like a massive risk.

“Storage closet at the far end,” Theroen said, pointing, and the two of them sprinted toward it. He threw open the door and Two stepped in, immediately enveloped in a mélange of odors, from chemicals to the squalled, mildewed scent of a mop head long in need of changing. Theroen swung in behind her and hauled the door shut. Through the small crack at its base, they could hear the sounds of the female soldiers entering the locker room and getting changed.

“This is so fucking stupid,” Two said, her voice barely more than the passing of breath over her lips, and Theroen nodded. What had they been thinking? They were trying to infiltrate what was essentially an active military base, with no training in such operations, during a time of day when nearly everyone within would be awake.

The women in the locker room were not exchanging much conversation. There was some low murmuring here and there, difficult for Two to pick up even with her vampire ears. For the most part, the women seemed intent on getting into their workout clothes and getting back to the gym.

Two wondered what they would do when all of the soldiers had left. As far as she had been able to see, there was but one exit from the room, and it would take them back into the cavernous gym, now populated by more than enough soldiers to ensure, even if Two and Theroen set to work with their weapons, that at least one would be able to sound the alarm.

At last, when there had been no discernible sound from the locker rooms for almost five minutes, Theroen murmured, “I’m going to take a look,” and he opened the door a crack. After a moment more, he swung it wide and ventured out into the room.

“It’s clear,” he said, and Two stepped out after him.

“This is fucking bad,” she said. “We’re trapped.”

“It does seem that way,” Theroen said, and Two couldn’t help but give an incredulous laugh at the unconcerned tone of his voice. Theroen glanced at her and shrugged.

“We are at least equipped with swords and guns. That is something.”

“Won’t be much if the whole of them come down on us in here,” Two said.

“Perhaps not. I do wonder how long we could hold them off from within if we put our minds to it. Do you think they would set fire to their own gymnasium?”

“Doubt it. They’d just wait us out.”

“Agreed. So in theory, if we must, we could hold this position for some undetermined length of time, perhaps long enough for our cohorts—”

Two interrupted him. “They won’t set the joint on fire, but I guarantee you they will grenade the shit out of that door.”

Theroen made a sound of distaste. “I had not thought of that.”

“We have to get out of here,” Two said. “I’m not sitting in a janitor’s closet for the next six hours.”

She began to move around the locker room, looking for exits they might have missed in their first, frantic search. She noticed a few air vents poking out of the drop ceiling.

“Nothing in the showers but four-inch drains,” Theroen said, returning from that corridor. Two frowned.

“This is a dead end. Christ. You think we can get up in those vents?”

“Even if we could, I think the idea that we could actually maneuver through them in any sort of effective way is a fallacy propagated by spy movies,” Theroen replied. “Particularly given that we have no map and no idea where we are going.”

“Anyway, I think they might just collapse underneath us,” Two said.

“That is also a distinct possibility.”

“There’s no window in the door to the gym, so we can’t even look … I mean, I dunno, maybe they all went to the pool?”

“There is no window, but we can attempt to crack it and see what is going on out there,” Theroen said. He began walking toward the door, and at that exact moment a woman – a girl, really, as she couldn’t have been older than fourteen – came into the locker room from the gym, muttering to herself.

“… stupid iPod … leave it in there every—ohmigod!”

She came to a halt, the door swinging shut behind her, staring at the two unwelcome visitors standing in her locker room, and for a moment Two seemed unable to move, unable to do anything but stare. This wasn’t a soldier. This was just some kid. Were the Children really taking advantage of people this young? No wonder they were able to produce such zealots.

Theroen was the first to regain his composure. He held up his hand, staring the girl in the eyes, and made a kind of shushing noise. The girl’s eyes grew wide, and even from behind him Two could feel the force of Theroen’s personality rolling off of him. He was charming the girl, mesmerizing her, and it seemed to be working. She stood there, slack-jawed, staring as he advanced on her.

Two had time to wonder if Theroen meant to kill this child or if he only planned on subduing her. She wasn’t sure it mattered; it would be only a matter of minutes, at most, before the girl was missed. Still, this would at least buy them a moment or two. It would—

The girl’s lips were moving, and after a moment more her eyes began to sharpen. Two tilted her head, listening, and realized that the girl was reciting some sort of mnemonic device, a set of rhyming couplets, and the effort of it was bringing her out of her swoon.

“… sister, hold her hand. Mister, my sister, she cannot stand. Mister, my sister, I cannot lie. Mister, my sister, I fear she’ll die …”

Before Theroen could reach her, the girl came fully to her senses and, drawing in a great breath, she began to scream. Two watched as she whirled on her heel and threw herself at the door, crashing out through it and into the gym. Her screams became words, alerting everyone therein to the danger she had just successfully avoided.

“Bats!” she cried. “Someone help me! There are bats in the locker room!”

Theroen glanced back at Two with an expression of helpless despair, and she could do no more than look back at him and draw her sword.

“We are so screwed,” she said, and as she spoke the words, the door to the locker room burst open, and the first wave of Children soldiers began to rush in.

Chapter 20
Intruders

It seemed to Vanessa that she had just lain down to sleep when someone, she thought it was Carrie, began shaking her awake. Grumbling profanities, she shoved the girl’s hands away and sat up in her bunk, raising an arm to shield her eyes from the burning glare of the desk lamp Carrie had lit. She had gone to sleep in nothing more than a pair of panties and knew this gesture was leaving her breasts exposed to anyone else who might be in the room, but she couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Whazz…whuthafuck?” she asked, running a hand over her face. “Carrie, what time is it?”

“It’s 11:30. Ness, you have to get up!”

Her fellow soldier seemed all abuzz about something. Vanessa, who had slept barely four hours in the last thirty-six, envied her. She didn’t think she was currently capable of producing that sort of energy.

“11:30 in the morning?” she asked.

“No, at night. You’ve only been asleep a couple hours.”

“Well Jesus fucking Christ,” Vanessa growled. “Did I not leave explicit instructions not to wake me up unless—”

“They caught two bats in the girls’ locker room,” Carrie said.

If Vanessa had thought herself incapable of Carrie’s level of excitement, the surge of adrenaline that went bursting through her body at the other woman’s words proved her wrong. She was out of the bed and moving toward her clothes, which lay stacked on a chair, even as she began asking questions.

“Two of them? Are they alive? What are they doing here?!”

“They’re alive. I don’t know, Ness, but they fought like hell. Wasn’t until the boys with the assault rifles showed up that they stood down. We lost six people.”

“Fuck. Fucking bats. Who’s in charge right now?” Vanessa was pulling on her pants. She realized too late that she had them on backwards, made a sound of aggravation, and started over.

“Colonel Miller,” Carrie said, and she held out Vanessa’s belt and holster as Vanessa began buttoning up her shirt.  When she was done, she grabbed the items and fastened them at her waist. Her gun was in her top drawer. She checked the chamber, pocketed an extra clip, and put the gun in its holster.

“Miller. OK. And they’re still alive?”

“Last I heard, yeah. He was going to speak with them personally.”

“They in cellblock?”

“Yeah, that’s where they took them. I don’t know what’s been going on since then. I had to wait until I could clock out to come tell you. Park’s still on shift for another couple hours.”

All of the Children’s soldiers worked on constantly shifting, staggered schedules. This was true for the greenest private all the way up through the most seasoned captain, and even the three colonels themselves. Vanessa had just enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of working back-to-back eight-hour shifts. She had spent another three hours writing reports before taking a shower and collapsing into her bed.

“Where’s Captain Perrault?” Vanessa asked, sitting on the lower bunk now, where Carrie usually slept, rapidly lacing up her boots.

“We don’t know.”

Vanessa stopped what she was doing and looked up at Carrie. “What the fuck does that mean? Who is ‘we’ and why don’t they know?!”

“I guess ‘we’ is everyone I’ve talked to, and I have no idea, Ness. They had me doing repair work in the garage, fixing some trashed boards on the APC. She’s not in her room and she’s not answering calls.”

“Jesus fucking … incompetent motherf—you know, if Charles was still alive, he’d—”

“Be really pissed at the people in charge of watching her? I know, Ness. Colonel Miller threw them both into solitary and said maybe he’d let them out in a week.”

“Good.”

Vanessa finished lacing up her boots and stood up. She took a moment to try to smooth her clothes out, doing the best she could in the limited amount of time she was willing to allow herself. Then she hauled her long, black braids back into a ponytail and said to Carrie, “I’m going to the Command Center.”

“I figured you’d want to be there,” Carrie said.

“Well, I’d rather be down in cellblock interrogating the bats, but I think Colonel Miller would have me shot if I did that without permission.”

“Probably right.”

“This is a huge problem. Our location’s been compromised. We’re going to have to start evac within, I don’t know … two hours? Miller probably already has people arming the charges. I want to find out as much as we can before we have to execute the prisoners.”

Carrie nodded. “I know. I should probably be packing already, but I … can I do anything from here? Not a lot of room for sergeants in the CC.”

“Not too much room for captains, either, and there are only eight of us. Usually it’s just a colonel, a major, and their tech staff. I’m the only person my rank who’s actually seen the bats up close, though. I might know these two. I’m going.”

“I want to help,” Carrie said, and there was a plaintive note in her voice.

Vanessa thought about it for a moment and then said, “I haven’t had a ton of sleep, so maybe I’m missing something, but two vampires creeping around? That screams assassination to me. I’m sure the Emperor’s fine … but Captain Perrault? We need to find her right now.”

Carrie’s eyes widened. “You think she’s … oh shit, Ness!”

“Go look. Park’s useless unless he’s in front of a spreadsheet, so don’t worry about him, just go. Maybe Miller has already thought of this, but whoever he’s got, they won’t be as thorough as you. Scour the place from the roof all the way down to the gym and then back again if you still haven’t found her.”

Vanessa looked at the door, then back at her solider, and continued. “Check everything’s that’s big enough to hold a body, OK? Go fast but be thorough, and when you’re done, find me. If I’m not with the colonel, I’ll be in cellblock.”

“OK, Ness.”

“Good,” Vanessa said. For an odd moment, she didn’t want to leave; some part of her, small but insistent, said that she was never going to see Carrie Brennan alive again, that by sending her soldier away she was signing the woman’s death sentence. That seemed absurd, and ultimately Vanessa fought the feeling down.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said, and she started toward the door.

* * *

The Command Center was located on the second sublevel, along with the individual quarters for the three colonels, the four majors, and both of the Emperor’s Hands. In operation twenty-four hours a day, one of the three colonels was always present there, unless some pressing circumstance – the interrogation of two vampire prisoners, for example – took him elsewhere. The colonel on duty was assisted by a major and several technicians, and they spent the bulk of their time planning the comings and goings of the various Children units.

Vanessa didn’t imagine it was glamorous work, most of the time. Organizing the duties of 180 soldiers plus support staff and trainees was likely a tedious exercise in schedule manipulation, particularly when they weren’t conducting raids. Still, it had to be done in order to ensure that the machine continued running smoothly. None of the colonels was under forty, and she thought the oldest of the three – Miller – might be pushing sixty. There was no higher rank to be obtained, other than the special case of the Emperor’s Hands, and there were always only three. There would not be a new colonel named until one of the current three died or retired.

When she stepped up to the two privates manning the door to the CC, both snapped to attention and saluted her. Vanessa returned the gesture and said, “I want to speak with Colonel Miller.”

The two soldiers glanced sidelong at each other for a moment before looking back at her. One of them, a tall and gawky-looking kid, made a coughing noise, and she could see his face reddening. Finally he said, “When he got back from cellblock, Colonel Miller said he wasn’t to be disturbed, ma’am.”

“I think he’ll make an exception for me,” Vanessa said.

“I dunno, ma’am,” the other private said. He was older, also tall, and built like a tank. “He’s uh … pretty pissed off.”

“Why’s that?”

“Fucking bats won’t talk,” the first private said. “Uh … pardon my French, ma’am.”

“Sounded American to me,” Vanessa said. “Well, boys, here’s the situation … one of you is going in there and telling Colonel Miller that Captain Harper would like a moment of his time. Further, you can tell him that I made it expressly clear to you that if you did not relay my message to him, I was going to pick one of you at random and shoot him in the groin. I’ll give you fifteen seconds to realize I’m serious.”

Vanessa took a step back and pulled her weapon from its holster, chambering a round and holding the gun at her side.

“Ten seconds,” she said.

“Ma’am, I—” began the muscular one, and Vanessa swung the pistol around to point between his legs.

“Volunteering?” she asked. “Fantastic! Five seconds, Private.”

“Dude, I’d go,” the gawky private said, his eyes wide but his tone almost conversational, and Vanessa had to stifle a laugh. If the boys called her bluff, she was ready to put the fear of God into them with a shot, but she wasn’t about to emasculate either of them. Fortunately, the bigger private proved unwilling to test her.

“Be right back!” he said, and he made his way through the door. The scrawny one let out a sigh of relief.

“That would’ve sucked,” he said.

“More for him than for you,” Vanessa replied.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Vanessa made her weapon safe and returned it to the holster. She and the private waited in silence, and soon the soldier returned.

“He uh … says you can come in.”

“Excellent,” Vanessa said, and the two soldiers stepped out of her way. She moved past them. Behind her, she heard the bigger soldier ask the other if he thought she’d been serious. She allowed herself a small smile as she entered the Command Center.

“Are you enjoying tormenting my people, Harper?” Colonel Miller asked her from the far side of the room, and Vanessa forced the smile from her face.

“No, sir,” she said as she walked toward him. “I just didn’t want to waste a lot of time fighting with them, and I thought you might make an exception for me.”

“Right,” Miller said, and he looked up from his computer monitor as she approached the desk. He was a hard man with a lined face, short, grey hair, broad shoulders, and only the slightest hint of a belly. Of the three colonels, she thought he was the best.

“I just heard about the bats,” Vanessa told him, and Miller made a scoffing noise.

“And you thought, ‘what the colonel needs right now is my expert opinion,’ Captain?”

Vanessa wasn’t going to be intimidated. “That is exactly right, sir.”

Miller shook his head, glancing back at his monitor. “What advice can you offer, might I ask, that was so important it was worth threatening my men?”

“Not advice, Colonel. Knowledge. I’ve been in the field and seen these assholes up close. I might know them.”

“I don’t see why that matters,” Miller told her, and Vanessa found herself grasping for the words she needed to explain why she thought it did.

“I want to interrogate them,” she said at last.

“I already did that. They’re not talking, and you haven’t answered my question. What is it you think you can offer me, Captain Harper, that I can’t get for myself?

“I might be able to use my knowledge of the events that happened in the cathedral to get them to talk. What do they look like?”

“One of them is a tall, gangly white male with short, dark hair. The other one is a petite white female with short, blonde hair.”

“You see? I’ve fought those two. The woman … she’s the one who—”

“I’ve read your reports, Vanessa. I know who she is. She’s not talking. Normally we’d bring Captain Perrault in on this, since she’s so persuasive, but given her previous reaction to the girl …”

“Also, she’s missing,” Vanessa said.

“I am aware of that. We’re scouring the base, but she may have slipped out.”

“Where do you suppose she would go?” Vanessa asked.

“Maybe she wanted a steak and a beer,” Miller said. “How the hell would I know? That woman’s impossible to get a handle on.”

No argument here, Vanessa thought. Out loud she said, “What if she’s dead? They could be assassins. Maybe they already accomplished their objective.”

“If she’s dead, then she’s dead. There’s nobody here who can bring her back to life, and frankly she’s not my most pressing concern at the moment.”

“But we need to know how we were compromised … we need—”’

“Harper, I have an evacuation to plan. In six hours, we need every man and woman among us out of this building. We’re erasing all of our local data, napalming the hardware, and collapsing the entire place in on itself. On top of that, I have to figure out how to go tell all of this to the Emperor, who hasn’t spoken to any of us since Charles died. If we have to, we’ll bring the bats to the Colorado outpost and interrogate them there.”

“I can have my squad ready to go in four hours, tops,” Vanessa said. “That includes time for Park to do backups and wipe his local data.””

“Good for you.”

“Well … that gives me plenty of time to try and interrogate the bats. I want another stab at that blonde chick. She got away from me before and I’ve got some serious questions.”

The colonel sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He was nearing the end of his shift, and Vanessa thought he would be glad to turn the CC over to Davis or Palowski and let them finish the evacuation.

“I’ll give you one hour,” he said at last. “Your primary mission is to find out why they’re here and how the hell they figured out our location. You want to ask questions about Captain Perrault’s little episode afterward, you be my guest, but get those two answers first. Do you understand?”

“Absolutely, sir,” Vanessa said, unable to suppress a triumphant grin.

Miller nodded and gave her a grim half smile in return. He turned and glanced at one of his aides. “Call down to cellblock and let them know she’s coming.”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied, and he picked up a nearby phone.

“You’re a royal pain in the ass,” Miller told Vanessa.

“Yes I am, sir,” she replied. “It’s one of my best qualities.”

“If your people take so much as one minute more than four hours to get ready, prepare for a month of shit assignments. I’m talking stuff that will make latrine duty seem like a fucking stroll through the park in spring, get me?”

“Won’t happen, sir.”

“Of course not.”

The colonel looked at her for a moment longer, his gaze hard and appraising, and she wondered if he knew; had Charles told them what she was to become, or had he kept it to himself? Was Miller wondering whether, in another month, he would be taking orders from her instead of the other way around? Was that why he had relented?

She couldn’t ask these questions and so she settled for returning his gaze, not willing to look away. Finally, Miller smiled as if at some inner joke and opened his mouth to say something. Before he had a chance to speak, the aide on the phone turned to them.

“No one’s answering at cellblock, sir,” he said, and Miller’s brow furrowed. He glanced over that the bank of monitors that took up most of the left wall, each of them cycling through several camera views. It occurred to Vanessa only at this moment to wonder how the bats had ever made it so deep without being caught on a single closed-circuit feed. Despite popular myth, they very definitely showed up in mirrors, photographs, and videos.

“Well, they’re right fucking there,” Miller said, stabbing a finger at the screen. One of the other aides, this one a lieutenant, stepped over for a closer look.

“Wait a sec …” he murmured, and stuck his nose right up within inches of the screen. “That’s Mike Timlaine.”

“So what?” the colonel asked.

“Mike’s a friend of mine, sir … he was on shift last night. Today’s his day off.”

“What the hell is he doing down there, then?”

“Is that … it’s Trisha with him. She’s not on tonight, either. Sir, something’s FUBAR here.”

“It’s playing last night’s video feed,” Vanessa said, and a sudden chill ran its way through the entire length of her body. “They all are. Colonel, we have to get down to cellblock right fucking n—”

She was cut off by a sudden, long whistle from one of the workstations. An aide bent over it, tapped a few keys, and the alarm stopped. Then he looked up at them, his eyes wide.

“What’s the situation?” Miller barked, and the boy started, stammering.

“Ah … it’s ah … it’s the loading bays, sir. Someone’s opened them.”

“Which ones?”

“A—all eight of them, sir.”

“Oh, Christ,” Miller said, and then the building’s alarm system went off. Claxons screamed overhead and the orange emergency lights began to flash. Vanessa didn’t have to ask the colonel what it meant, though she had never been told. For the first time in her history with the Children, they were under attack.

Chapter 21
Unexpected Encounters

The man who had identified himself as Colonel Miller had spent two hours snarling questions at them, in between bouts of physical violence that had left both her and Theroen bruised and bloodied. Two had alternated between silence, taunting, and spitting out patently false information. At one point she had told him her name was Marie Curie. At another, that she had learned about the Children’s location from the Illinois Office of Tourism. She’d thought this tremendously amusing.

The colonel hadn’t shared her sense of humor, and when at last she’d seen him coming dangerously close to losing his control altogether, Two had stopped throwing barbs at him and stuck to silence. He had hit her then, three times in the face and once in the side. Theroen’s anguish had been visible on his face from across the room, and Two had been proud of him for keeping his mouth shut.

“I have things to do,” the colonel had told them at last. “You two rest up, and we’ll continue our little chat once I’m off duty. I’m going to bring a friend, and he’s going to bring his collection of knives, and we’ll see how many pieces of each of you we have to remove before you decide to talk.”

He had instructed four soldiers, each armed with an assault rifle, to take them to the third cell and toss them in with someone he called only ‘the traitor.’ Now they were walking down the hall, hands shackled behind their backs in metal cuffs. Two could feel a stabbing pain every time she breathed, and she hoped to have the chance to return the favor to the colonel.

They arrived at a heavy steel door with a tiny, reinforced window. One of the guards stepped forward, produced a plastic card, and held it up to a pad next to the door. There was a buzzing noise and Two heard heavy-sounding bolts moving. The guard swung the door open.

“Get in,” the man directly behind her snarled, and he shoved her in the back. Two stumbled and slammed into the concrete wall with her left shoulder, but she managed to use it to keep from falling face first into the cell. She stepped into the room and heard Theroen walking in behind her.

The room was larger than she had expected, probably twenty feet square, with high ceilings and a plain concrete floor. There weren’t any windows and the lights were turned very low, but her eyes had no difficulty coping. There was a small metal toilet and a single rickety cot. The room was otherwise bereft of furnishings, and there was a man sitting on the floor in the corner, arms crossed over his knees, head down. He did not look up at their entry.

“You gonna take these fucking handcuffs off?” Two asked one of the guards as he stepped into the room. “Or are you too scared?”

“Shut up, bat,” the man growled, and he pointed. “Go stand in the corner, face the wall, and look straight ahead.”

Two did what she was told and heard them telling Theroen to do the same, only with the opposite corner. Their cellmate, who still hadn’t moved, was in the corner between them, the one furthest away from the door.

Two felt something cold and metal slip around her ankle, and understood she was being chained to the wall. The guard who was kneeling behind her stood up and said, “When I take these cuffs off, think real hard about the two rifles pointed at your fucking head. If you even try and turn, you’re going to die. You can move when you hear the door close.”

“So, this is how you treat all your dates, right?” Two said, but she kept herself still.

“Keep up the jokes, bitch,” the soldier said. “Keep ‘em right up. The colonel loves jokes.”

There was a click and Two felt first one cuff and then another being taken from her wrists. She resisted the urge to flex her arms or make any other motions that might earn her a hail of bullets to the back of the head. She heard the guard going through the same set of commands with Theroen, and in a moment more they were alone with their cellmate. The door clanged closed, the bolts latched, and Two took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in her side. She glanced down and confirmed that she was attached to the wall by an eight-foot chain.

“This is going to be a long night,” Theroen said.

“No shit,” Two replied, turning around. Theroen was leaning against the wall, holding his arms out in front of him and flexing them.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Been better. I think that motherfucker might’ve cracked a rib. How about you?”

“Some bruises. Nothing terrible yet. I am not looking forward to his return.”

“Me neither,” Two replied. She glanced over at their cellmate. He was sitting in the darkest part of the room, head still down, and the only attribute she could discern was that his skin was a dark brown. “Hey, buddy … you still alive over there? Hello? Mister traitor-man?”

He looked up at last, and Two felt a bolt of recognition run through her when she saw his face. “Jesus Christ … Thomas?!”

He managed a weak grin at the shock that was evident in her voice. “That’s me. Still alive, Two, but I’ve seen better days. Sorry about your rib.”

“You’re the traitor?”

“That’s what they keep calling me.”

“Wow. We thought … I mean, when you left L’Obscurité, Naomi just assumed the Children had called you back.”

Thomas smiled, shaking his head. “I told them she knew about me. Told them, but do they listen? No, they never do. They were so sure she had no idea. I was called back, but they gave me something to do before I left. That was the problem.”

“What did they want you to do?”

Thomas sighed. He stood up, and Two could see that he had lost a substantial amount of weight. He had not yet lost all of his muscular build, but he looked thinner, and his smooth, dark skin seemed to hang off of him. Where his head had always been clean-shaven before, he now had a few weeks’ growth of curly black hair, and he had grown a rough beard.

It didn’t look like they were treating him well. His eyes were sunken, and Two could see that at least one of them had been blackened in the not-so-distant past. She supposed he had spent weeks alternating between the cot, the toilet, and his spot on the floor.

“They told me to kill her,” Thomas said.

“You refused,” Theroen asked, and Thomas glanced over at him.

“Not exactly, my man. I told them I’d do it. That’s what I was there for, right? Five fuckin’ years of watching that girl, learning everything I could about her. It would’ve been crazy to bring me back without having me give it a shot. I knew where she lived and how to get into the building …”

“When did you decide not to do it?” Two asked, and Thomas gave a small laugh.

“Well, it’s crazy … I broke into her place one morning, all set to do it nice and quiet. Needle full of toxins, stuff to rig a fire, all that. So I go into her bedroom, and she’s lying there next to three empty bottles of wine and an open bottle of pills. Looked to me like she was trying to do my job for me.”

Two felt something then, at the back of her mind – a suspicion that had been there for some time, but also something more tangible. There was another consciousness touching hers, and after a moment she turned to Theroen.

“You knew,” she said. “You’re not surprised … because you already knew.”

Theroen looked back at her, his expression unreadable, always so goddamned calm. “No, I am not surprised. She told me about it the night of the attack on the council.”

“And you kept it from me? Theroen, what the fuck?!”

“She asked me to keep it in confidence.”

“Yeah, but … she’s my friend! She needs help.”

“Two, she is my friend as well. I know that she needs help, and should we survive this night, I am prepared to give her anything that she asks of me.”

“You should have told me.”

“If she had asked you, as a friend, to keep her secret, would you have told me?” Theroen asked. There was no smarminess or self-satisfaction in his voice; he seemed genuinely interested in her answer, and it was this more than anything that helped Two calm herself. She thought about it and shook her head.

“No, I guess probably not. I guess sometimes you have to keep things to yourself if you’re asked to.”

“Just so.”

Thomas spoke up. “So she was really trying to … to end things?”

“It has been a difficult few years for Naomi,” Theroen said. “A difficult few years in a difficult life. She has lived long and lost much, and her people are prone to despair. I saw the very same thing in the woman who made her a vampire.”

“Man …” Thomas seemed lost in thought, shaking his head.

“Thomas, what happened after you broke in?” Two asked, and he glanced up.

“Well, I told her, ‘Girl … I don’t know what you’ve been up to, but I’ve been sent here to do this thing. I want you to know I’m sorry.’” He shook his head again, this time in a kind of sarcastic disbelief. “Like that matters, right? As if it would have been any fucking comfort if she had heard me.”

“It might have been,” Theroen told him, and Thomas shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter. I took out the needle, uncapped it, and knelt down next to her. I was this … fucking … close to sticking it in her neck. I’m not lying and I’m not ashamed to say that if it had been you, or even Two, or any other vampire on the planet, I’d have done it. I would’ve stuck you and gone home to get my next assignment.”

He sighed again, tightened his hands into fists for a moment, and then opened them up.

“But it wasn’t one of us,” Two said gently, and Thomas looked up at her.

“What the fuck has she ever, ever done to anyone?!” he cried. “I’ve been watching that girl for five years. She comes into my bar every night, she has a glass of wine or two, she finds someone in the club who’s not coked out of their mind, and she bites them. She doesn’t even hurt them, let alone kill them. She just bites them and then leaves them in the bathroom, and five minutes later they come out the door grinning like they just got laid and hit the lottery at the same time. They don’t even remember and they’re still happy.

“Sometimes she takes Sonya, the cocktail girl, home for a night. Sonya never remembers it either, but for the next week, she’s on top of the fucking world. She’s all humming and smiling and flirting with everyone in sight. The main reason she’s even lasted so long in this shit business is because of Naomi.

“So I’m kneeling there, with this big needle at her throat, and I’m thinking to myself, what has she done to deserve getting killed like this? What has she ever done except make everyone who’s ever known her happy? She’s never bitten me – I’m too well-trained to get mesmerized, so I know she hasn’t – and she even makes me happy. I used to spend every night at that club waiting for her to show up. She’s probably the most sweet and sympathetic and caring person I’ve ever met. I just … I mean …”

“You couldn’t do it,” Two said. “You couldn’t kill her, because you lo—”

“Knock that shit off,” Thomas said. “Don’t pretend like you know how I feel. She’s a bat, just like you and him and all you other motherfuckers. Just because I’m weak and couldn’t hack it doesn’t mean anything more than that. I split the entire scene and tried hiding out in Atlanta, but they found me and now I’m getting what I deserve. I had to look my sister in the eye and admit that I failed her, and failed our family. I don’t need your judgment and I sure as hell don’t need your goddamn pity.”

“Never offered any pity,” Two said, and Thomas looked up at her for a minute, eyes in slits as he studied her. Finally he shrugged and sat back down.

“Whatever,” he said. “It’s all done now. You’re still alive, so that means they want something from you … answers, I guess. They’ll bring someone in who can get them from you.”

“We’ll see,” Two said, but the words sounded braver than she felt.

“Yeah,” said Thomas, and he shook his head before laying it back down on his crossed arms. “We’ll see.”

* * *

It was impossible for Two to determine exactly how much time was passing, and she didn’t bother trying. She could only hope that the colonel wouldn’t be able to return before the vampire army descended upon the place. She and Theroen weren’t going to be able to open the bay doors, obviously, but that was acceptable; there were contingency plans.

Thomas didn’t seem interested in further conversation, and Two didn’t press him. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through – he had turned traitor to his people. That he had done so for what was, she thought, an excellent reason probably made little difference to him at the moment.

Theroen, too, was silent, but she suspected this was due to concerns about Thomas. The man might have betrayed his orders, but he had certainly not come all the way around to being their ally. Theroen wouldn’t want to let slip any information that Thomas could give to the colonel upon his return. Thomas had to be treated as an enemy at least until they were out of this cell. With any luck that would be in another few hours, but she didn’t know how Thomas would react to the attack – or to what was likely going to happen to his sister.

Eventually Two sat down on the floor and drew her knees up to her chest, much like Thomas had. She was still sitting there, trying not to think about the experience of having pieces of her body cut off while being probed for information, when there was the noise of a door slamming in the hallway outside. Heavy footsteps echoed up the hall, audible even through the door to their cell, getting closer. Two felt adrenaline surge through her and she stood up.

“No! Fuck, that’s way too soon!”

“There is only one person,” Theroen said. He had his head cocked and was listening to the approaching footsteps.

“Maybe he decided to handle it himself,” Two said. Losing her own pieces would be bad, but she thought she might be able to stand it. She thought she might be able to keep her mouth shut. What was making her sick with terror was the knowledge that they would make her watch them do it to Theroen. If they did, she was not sure she could resist telling them whatever it was they wanted to know.

“We can only wait, my love,” Theroen said. “I will not allow them to do anything to you without a fight.”

“I’m not scared for me,” Two muttered, and she saw him nod. He glanced over at her and for a moment that ethereal calm broke, and she saw below it a smoldering rage similar to what she had seen in him when Abraham had revealed his part in Lisette’s death. Thereon had been strong then, and he was even stronger now. She thought a single chain at the ankle might not be as secure as the Children believed it to be.

Theroen took a deep breath and shut his eyes, and the calm descended back over him. Two envied it, whether it was a true ability to keep from worrying or merely the will to mask it. She possessed neither such talent, and felt at the moment so electrified by fear and anticipation that she could barely keep from fidgeting like a child.

There was a buzzing noise, and then a heavy clunk as the door unlatched. It swung inward, and for a moment the light from the hallway was so dazzling even to her eyes that Two could see only a featureless silhouette. Then her superhuman vision adjusted so quickly it was nearly painful, and she felt again a shock of recognition. It wasn’t the colonel, returned to continue his interrogations. It was instead—

“Hello, Two,” Tori said, and she stepped into the cell, closing the door behind her. It didn’t latch, and Tori didn’t seem to care.

Two could barely find words, so great was her surprise not only at the woman’s unexpected arrival, but also at the greeting. Eventually she managed, “You … remember who I am now?”

Tori stood by the door, her arms crossed, and watched in silence for what felt like a long time. Finally she said, “I remember you.”

“Well, that’s fucking great!” Two exclaimed. “What about Theroen?”

Tori glanced at him, disinterested, and then back at Two. “Yes, him too.”

Two looked over at Theroen, who met her gaze and raised his eyebrows, giving a little shrug. This was her domain, he seemed to be saying; he had only ever known Tori as a mindless animal. Two nodded and looked back at the woman who had once been her friend.

“You’re not here to let us go, are you?” she asked.

“Why would I do that?” Tori asked her. “So you can run rampant through the building, killing more of my people?”

“We didn’t come here for that, though God knows they fucking deserve it,” Two said. She was having the polar opposite reaction to Tori’s unearthly calm that she had to Theroen’s; where in him it made her comfortable and happy and warm, here it was infuriating. It made her want to smack the look of unimpressed disinterest off of Tori’s face.

“What did you come here for?” Tori asked her in that same, dull tone, and Two’s patience snapped.

“We came here to save you!” she cried.

Tori considered this, looking for a time at the floor. At last she lifted her head up and asked, “Why would I need saving from my own people?”

“These aren’t your people.”

“They’re the closest thing I have now that my parents are dead,” Tori said, and now her voice was quiet and distant, as if lost in memory. “Where were all my wonderful vampire friends when that happened, Two? Where were you?”

“I was—”

“Shut up!” Tori roared, and now there was emotion in her voice. Two suddenly understood the truth: the exterior calm had been a carefully constructed shell, but a thin and brittle one, and now it had cracked. When Two met her former friend’s eyes, what she saw there was not calm or disinterest, but instead a kind of pure and righteous anger.

“I’ll tell you where you were,” Tori hissed. “I don’t need you to fill in the blanks, because I know exactly what you were doing. You were in New York, doing whatever you pleased, while my parents were being held down on their kitchen counter and butchered like pigs!”

“I—”

“It would be bad enough to have to sit here and listen to your bullshit – whatever pathetic excuse you’ve got prepared – if I didn’t know the whole truth, but I do. I know everything, and the only thing I don’t understand is how you can show your face to me. How dare you come to me like this after what your people did?!”

“Tori … what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Your council killed my parents!” Tori shouted. “They held them down, and slashed their throats open, and let them bleed to fucking death, and left them there for me to find!”

“The council did nothing of—” Theroen began, and Tori whirled on him.

“Keep your fucking tongue in your mouth, Eresh-Chen, or so help me God I will cut it out.”

“Theroen-Sa,” Two said, and when Tori turned back to her, she continued. “He’s a source, now. I’m Theroen-Chen. And you? You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about. The council didn’t kill your parents. Why would they do something like that?”

“How can you stand here and lie to me?” Tori asked, and there was a plaintive note in her voice, the tone of someone truly unable to comprehend her situation. “What did I ever do to you? We saved each other, and I thought we were sisters. That’s what you told me, that we were sisters forever, and then you left me there, trapped in that empty, grey nothing. When your people came to punish me for what I did to Abraham, you didn’t even stop them. You couldn’t even be bothered with me anymore!”

“Tori, I am not lying to you!” Two cried. “I have never lied to you about anything ever. I left you in Ohio because I thought you were safe there, and I was stupid, and selfish, and I wanted to get back to being a vampire. I never meant to abandon you, and I never meant for you or anyone you loved to get hurt. The council did not kill your parents. We freed them from Abraham. If that wasn’t true, I’d be dead right now.”

“What bullshit,” Tori said. “They were afraid to touch Theroen’s chosen one, so they took it out on me by killing my innocent, defenseless parents. Do you know what it’s like, Two? Do you know how it feels to stumble into a kitchen and have to stare your murdered father in the eyes, and know that for as long as you live all that blood that’s pooled underneath him will be on your hands?”

Two was shaking her head. She felt like crying but fought against it. “They didn’t kill your parents. I don’t know who did, but it wasn’t the council. It wasn’t.”

Tori clenched her jaw and stared at Two for a moment, then she shook her head.

“I am going to kill every last member of your council, and every last member of your people,” she said. “I’m going to kill a thousand vampires for every drop of my parents’ blood they spilled. I’m going to kill and kill until there aren’t any left, and the innocent human beings in this world are safe at last from this fucking scourge.”

“Well then you might as well start with me!” Two snapped, and Tori gave her an angry grin. She reached down and drew forth the two short steel blades that had been hanging in scabbards at her sides.

“That’s the plan,” she said, and she took a step forward. Thomas’s voice stopped her. He was still sitting, but he had taken his head off of his arms and had been watching her exchange with Two.

“Hey, Captain, something you should know …”

“Shut up, traitor!” Tori snarled.

“I just think—”

“Another word and the Emperor won’t have to decide your fate. I’ll fucking decide it for him!”

“Right, no, just ignore the only guy in the room who has a goddamn clue what the fuck he is talking about!” Thomas shouted, springing to his feet. “I swear to God, most of you vampire motherfuckers are so stupid, I don’t even know how we’ve had so much trouble killing all of you off.”

Tori had turned to look at him, her head cocked, but had yet to advance. Thomas took this as an invitation to continue.

“Let me ask you one question, Captain. When’d you stop taking your pills?”

Tori took a moment to respond, visibly shaken by the question. At last she said, “How did you know about those?”

“Answer the question and I’ll tell you,” Thomas said.

“You piece of shit …”

“Just answer it!” Thomas shouted, and for a moment Tori only stood, jaw clenched, staring at him. Finally she spoke.

“The day after the cathedral op,” she said. “That was when I stopped. Are you satisfied? Tell me how you knew about them!”

“You think I was just sitting around Atlanta relaxing?” Thomas asked. “I found out about the pills the same way I found out a whole bunch of other shit I’m not supposed to know. Let me slip you a little knowledge, Captain. You interested?”

“You have my attention,” Tori told him. She did not put away her blades, but neither did she advance any farther into the room.

Thomas nodded. “Archimedes, Captain. That password, entered at one prompt and one prompt only, will bypass just about every security measure the Children have ever installed. It gives you access to databases that even the colonels don’t get to read. That’s how I know about your pills, and that’s how I know that there isn’t a chance in hell you’d remember all this shit if you were still on them.”

“Who gave you that password?” Tori asked him, and Thomas gave her a scoffing laugh.

“Why would I tell you that? If it makes you feel any better, he’s never used it. Didn’t have the balls.”

Tori considered this and nodded. “Fine. You know I was on the pills, and you know that when I stopped taking them my memory started coming back. What does that have to do with anything?”

“If you’re going to kill someone for doing something, shouldn’t you be sure they did it? Like, I mean, a hundred percent for-real certain?”

“If you know something that you think I should know, this would be an excellent time to share,” Tori said. She turned away from Two, who was staying silent, watching those blades in Tori’s hands and hoping like hell that Thomas knew what he was doing.

“While I was in Atlanta, I did a little thinking about you, Captain. Pretty convenient how it worked out – the council killing your parents but leaving you alive long enough for us to swoop in. So when I decided to use the password, I read up on your history. It’s all there, every email or journal entry … everything Charles ever filed, and even a few things from the Emperor himself. I guess he doesn’t use computers much, but man … the stuff he did write is really interesting.”

“Get to the point!” Tori snarled.

“You think the vampire council killed your parents because you killed the dude at the top and they wanted revenge … but now that you’re off your pills, Captain, why not ask yourself who stood the most to gain from your parents’ deaths?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tori said.

“Come on, Captain. They told us you were smart …”

Tori bit her lip, looking frustrated. “I know what you’re insinuating – don’t think I haven’t thought of it – but there’s no way. It goes against everything they believe in. Everything the Emperor stands for.”

“Sure does, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Think about it. Finally there’s this weapon just lying around that they can pick up and use against the vampires. After four hundred years of sneaking around, killing a handful here or there, they can finally put together a real army and make a push. Abraham is gone and there’s someone out there who can take the fight to the big, badass vampires that are left.”

“Stop it,” Tori said, but there was a wavering note to her voice now that hadn’t been there before.

Thomas didn’t. “The only question was … how could they convince you? You had been a vampire once, and who knew when they might decide to come recruit you? Once our people found you, and they were sure of what they’d found, they had to figure out a way to get you to come with them. Let’s be honest, Captain … even with all the fighting, there was no way you were going to just bail on your parents and sign up with the Children. No way you were gonna disappear again.”

“I said stop it,” Tori said, and she took a menacing step toward him. Thomas stared back at her, defiant, and continued.

“What if they could take care of both problems at once? What if they could eliminate your parents and make you hate vampires at the same time? Wouldn’t that get you to come with them, at least long enough that they could make you forget? Once they got that process started, they could do whatever they liked with you, make you believe anything they wanted.”

Tori took another step forward, but Thomas wasn’t done.

“I read every word of it. The plans, the order, and the reports afterward. You want to know who was in your kitchen that night, holding your mom and dad down and cutting their throats? It wasn’t anyone on Two’s council. The people who killed your innocent, human parents were Charles Porter, Colonel Timothy Palowski, Major Arthur Davidson, and his Majesty himself, that benevolent guardian of humanity, the Emperor of the fucking Sun.”

At this, Tori took three long, fast strides forward and brought the blade in her right hand up, pressing it underneath Thomas’s throat and holding him up against the wall.

“You shut up with your lies!” she hissed at him. “Shut up right now or I’m going to cut your head off!”

“Captain … why would I lie?” Thomas asked her, his head leaned back, eyes staring down at her, and for a moment Two thought that those would be his last words. She could see in Tori’s eyes the kind of rage that rendered coherent thought impossible. The animal that Tori had once been was fighting to be set free, to rip and rend and tear.

“Tori,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice calm. “Tori, come back.”

Whether it was the words or the tone Two didn’t know, but they seemed to get through, and Tori swung her head around to stare at Two.

“What did you say?” she snarled, and Two smiled at her gently.

“I said, ‘come back.’ You don’t have to be that girl anymore, the crazy one who kills without thinking about it. You can be someone else, someone better. I know you can because I’ve seen it.”

With a visible effort, Tori fought back the rage. She was shaking, her shoulders jerking, and Two was afraid she would cut Thomas’s throat by accident before she could get ahold of herself. But after a moment more she took the blade from his skin. She breathed in, long and deep, and looked him in the eyes.

“There’s a terminal back at the desk,” she said. “They’ll let me use it. I want you to tell me how to get to that one particular password prompt, and I want you to do it right now.”

Thomas nodded and began to speak.

Chapter 22
Ascent

When Thomas was finished, Tori contemplated the things he had told her for a moment, as if to ensure she had the proper sequence committed to memory. Then, without a word, she spun on her heel and left the cell, and for a time no one spoke. Two turned and looked at Thomas. He had gone back to a sitting position but was now looking at the cell door, a contemplative expression on his face.

“So, was that a load of shit or were you serious?” Two asked him, and Thomas glanced over, laughing a little.

“Why don’t you try lying to her while she’s got that thing up against your neck,” he said.

Two nodded. “I should’ve realized. I just … I thought you guys didn’t kill humans, at least not innocent ones. I thought that was the whole point.”

“It is the whole point and we don’t kill humans. Least, not those of us who still have any idea what’s right and what’s wrong. I guess that rules out the Emperor. Guess that rules out a whole bunch of top-rank motherfuckers.”

“When she sees it with her own eyes, she will try to kill them,” Theroen said, and Thomas nodded.

“Yeah, she will, and she might even get one or two of them. Word is that Charles already passed on, so she won’t have a chance with him, and she won’t make it to the Emperor by herself.”

“Won’t stop her from trying,” Two said.

“No, I guess not. I’m kind of hoping she comes back and lets us out, though. I don’t think I’ve got much of a future with this organization. I was a fucking good bartender, though.”

“I am concerned that she will forget to come back,” Theroen said. “That she will be so enraged as to simply head off in search of the Emperor at once.”

“Would you stop making it out like she’s some kind of psychopath?” Two snapped, and Theroen raised his eyebrows.

“Since arriving, she has threatened to kill or maim all three people in this room,” he said.

“She wasn’t going to kill us. The Colonel wants us alive.”

“She doesn’t answer to the colonels,” Thomas said. “They answer to her. She’s the Right Hand. Only boss she’s got is the Emperor, and she has his authority to do whatever the hell she wants. If she wanted to kill you – and it sure fucking looked like she did – she would’ve killed you.”

“Oh,” Two said, trying not to think too hard about how close it had been. “Well … the important thing is that she didn’t.”

“I agree,” Theroen said. “If she does not come back, there are yet options to be considered.”

“She’s not going to do that,” Two said. “She’s not going to go berserk and just charge off without thinking.”

Thomas spoke up, a touch of incredulity in his voice. “You uh … you know Captain Perrault well?”

Two took a deep breath, forcing down the profanity-laced tirade that had sprung to her mind, and said only, “Better than either of you.”

Thomas considered this and shrugged. “Hope you’re right.”

“I hope so, too,” Theroen said, his tone not unkind. Two sighed and gave him a small smile, but she chose not to continue the conversation. What was the point? Only Tori could prove whether Two was correct in her assessment or delusional about Tori’s ability to push back the animal inside, and so they waited in silence to find out.

Two had lost complete track of time since their capture and knew only that it must not be midnight yet, as surely there would have been some sign that an attack had begun. Even the time since Tori had left seemed distorted, stretching longer than it could possibly have been. Thomas had put his head down again and Two found herself perturbed by his seeming ability to zone out at will.

“Hey,” she said. “Thomas? You still with us?”

“Trying to meditate,” he said, keeping his eyes down.

“Meditate on what?”

“I don’t meditate ‘on’ things,” Thomas said, and now he looked up. “The whole point is to empty your mind. That’s what my sister never figured out.”

“You have a sister in here?”

“You know her. Vanessa Harper. She works with Captain Perrault.”

“Oh. Christ, that chick’s your sister?”

“Yeah. She used to bitch about the meditation sessions every night, over and over. She said she didn’t see the value, but I think the truth is she was pissed she couldn’t manage it. She could never take herself out of herself … so she never got anything out of it.”

“What do you get out of it?” Two asked.

“Peace. Calm. Also I’m trying to conserve energy in case I get a chance to bust up out this place. If you’re good, you can drop your breathing rate, your heart rate … it lowers your metabolism. I’ve been trying not to use up energy. You can probably tell they haven’t been feeding me so good.”

“Yeah, you’re starting to look pretty thin.”

“I’ve burnt a lot of muscle since I got here, but not all of it. I can still move fast and hit hard if I need to, but the energy won’t last long. I’m trying to sleep and meditate as much as possible. Kind of funny … I’d have gone nuts in here by now if not for everything they taught me.”

“Have they been interrogating you?”

Thomas shrugged. “Not really. What am I going to give them? I’ve reported every single thing about Naomi, including the part where I broke orders and ran like a bitch. I don’t have anything they need. Or at least, they have no reason to think I do – not like my boy in IT told them he built a backdoor and gave me the key. Your crazy friend is the first person I’ve told about the password, so no one knows I can read the Emperor’s email.”

Theroen shifted and spoke. “If she decides to tell them about that, you will be in a great deal of trouble.”

“She’s not going to—” Two began, and Thomas cut her off.

“Two, relax. He’s not saying she will. Your boy’s just the kind of guy who thinks about all the angles, and until she comes back, one of the angles is definitely that she’s still working for the Children.”

“But you told her about the password anyway,” Two said.

“That’s right.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“More dangerous than what I’ve already done? Sweetheart, you’re not the only one working for an organization that swings the death penalty stick around like a psychotic four-year-old on a sugar high. If I hadn’t told her, she would’ve killed you first, him second, and me third, and anyway … it’s not like I’m guessing about what’s in there. I read it myself. If she decides she’s still a big fan of the Emperor after reading that shit, well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Two considered this for a while, chewing on her bottom lip. Theroen was watching her and Thomas was staring again at the door. She was about to speak when she saw Theroen cock his head to the left, frowning.

“That was a scream,” he said.

“You sure?” Two asked.

“Reasonably,” Theroen said. “We can ask in a moment.”

“We what? How—” Two’s question was cut off by the sound of footsteps moving toward them, not quite at a run but definitely hurried. There was another buzzing, clunking noise as the door to their cell unlatched, and Tori walked back into the room.

“When is the attack?” she asked, looking directly at Two, and for a moment Two had no idea what the woman was talking about. Then she realized, and found herself stammering.

“The … uh, I mean …”

“Two, cut the bullshit. I know an attack is coming. Someone very talented broke in and corrupted all of our video feeds hours ago. That’s how you got down as far as you did. Well, and because I let you.”

“You did what?” Theroen asked her, and Tori gave him a grim smile.

“Before he died, Charles Porter once told me that I was something more than a human. He told me I was something better, and he was right. Our people missed that the lock on the roof was broken from the inside, but I didn’t. I found it days ago. Someone broke out of the building and we’ve had no missing prisoners. Conclusion? A spy or stowaway of some sort. They must have been good, to get past the cameras.”

“But why?” Two asked.

“The Children’s response to discovery is to run and hide, covering their tracks as best they can. That’s not my forte and never was. I wanted my shot at you before they were alerted to danger.”

“You knew Theroen and I were going to come all along, then,” Two said, and Tori shook her head.

“I knew someone would come, but not who. I was expecting more than two of you, but I wasn’t counting on this. You two really aren’t here for the Children, or even for the Emperor. You’re here for me.”

Two nodded. “That’s right.”

Tori shook her head, a look of angry disgust on her face. “Do you know how fucking stupid that is?”

Two considered this for a moment and then shrugged. “I don’t give a shit.”

“You left me in Ohio. You dumped me on my parents and took off, and after that I was lucky if you even answered your emails, let alone your phone. You abandoned me, and it cost my parents their lives, and now you want to waltz in and … what?”

“I wanted to save you,” Two told her. “Tori, I wanted to … to help you.”

“Who says I need your help?!” Tori shouted. “Who says I need anything from you at all? Don’t you understand what you’ve done?!”

Two felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, and tears sprung to her eyes. She was quiet for a moment, trying to find the words to express herself. Tori watched her, jaw clenched. Finally, Two spoke.

“I know exactly what I’ve done,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I know who I am, and I know all of the terrible shit I’ve put people through. I did lots of things without ever thinking about the consequences. When I met you I was just a stupid kid, and I didn’t think about how the things I was doing could hurt you.

“I brought you home because I knew your parents missed you, and I knew that as your memory came back, you were missing them, too. I don’t regret bringing you there, but leaving you like that and just fucking off into my own little world? I’m never going to ask you to forgive me for it because I don’t expect you to. I don’t want you to.”

“Then what do you want from me?” Tori demanded. “Am I supposed to give you a hug and tell you everything’s going to be rainbows and unicorns from now on? Is that how this is supposed to go? What do you want?!”

Two looked down at the ground and then back up at Tori. She could feel tears on her cheeks now, and she brushed them aside with one hand.

“I want you to be safe. I want you to be free. Even if it means I can’t be your friend anymore, I want you to be able to live your own life, however you want to live it.”

“What if I want to live my life by hunting down vampires and murdering them?” Tori cried. “What if that’s what I was made to do?”

“Then fucking do it!” Two shouted back. She lunged forward, forgetting the chain on her ankle, and very nearly fell flat on her face. She regained her balance and glared at Tori. “Do it! But don’t do it for these people who’ve done nothing but lie to you at every step. Do it for you!”

Tori was quiet for a time, staring at Two, her jaw clenched tight. Two looked back, refusing to break eye contact. If the time for her death had come, she would go to it standing as tall as her five-foot-two frame would allow.

“The attack’s at midnight,” she said. “There’s about three hundred and fifty of them, mostly Ay’Araf and Burilgi. Theroen and I are supposed to open the garage doors, but they’ll break their way in if they have to. Either we finish this or we lose the war and scatter. One way or the other, it ends tonight.”

Tori took in a deep breath, held it, and let it out.

“Then I guess we don’t have much time,” she said, and she unsheathed her swords. She strode forward, and Two found herself grasping for something to say and finding nothing. All of her attention was focused on those twin blades.

Tori brought the sword in her right hand up above her head, and Two felt an overwhelming urge to leap backward. Then a voice – she was not sure whether it was her own – spoke at the back of her mind.

Show her you believe, the voice said, and Two clenched her teeth, stiffened her back and stood straight up, staring Tori in the eye. You’re not going to kill me, she thought.

Meeting her gaze, Tori brought the blade down in a slashing motion so powerful it shrieked as it cut through the air. Two recognized the sound from her time training with Jakob and knew that the weapon was moving with such speed and force that it could easily cut through bone. If the blow was aimed at her head or neck, she was going to die.

But it wasn’t, and she had known it wasn’t from the moment that her friend had begun her swing. Instead, the blade sliced through the air at her side and came down against the chain that was latched to her ankle. There was an ear-splitting noise as one of the links shattered, and Two felt shrapnel pass by her face, but she kept her eyes on Tori. The former vampire turned to look at her.

“I thought for sure you’d flinch,” she said, and she gave a savage grin.

“What, and give you the satisfaction?” Two asked, amazed to find that she was smiling as well. “Not a fucking chance.”

“If you ladies are … about … done!” Theroen snarled, and on the last word he kicked his bound leg forward with all of his strength. The chain held, but the loop through which it was attached to the shackle did not. The piece of metal snapped at its welded joints and flew away, bouncing off the nearby cell wall and falling to the floor with a clatter.

“Holy shit …” Tori muttered.

Two laughed a little. “I was wondering when he was going to do that.”

“It took all of my willpower not to do it when Tori went at you with that blade,” Theroen said. “Now, I do not know about the rest of you, but I have had about all I can take of this cell. If you do not mind, Tori, we have a set of loading bay doors to open. I trust from your actions that you have at least determined which side is in the right?”

“I don’t give a shit about your sides,” Tori said, her grim demeanor now reasserting itself. “It turns out that the man for whom I’ve been killing all this time is the one who ordered my parents’ execution. I’m going to cut his throat, and I’m going to pull his whole fucking organization down around his head.”

“I support this plan,” Theroen told her, and Tori gave him a scoffing laugh.

“I don’t care. I know what you’re expecting … you came to save me and you want me to thank you for that, but I never asked to be saved. I don’t want your help. I can do this myself.”

“Tori, come on,” Two said, and Tori whirled on her.

“What, Two, do you think everything’s settled between us? It wasn’t your people who killed my parents, so it’s just fine that you left me there to go crazy alone?”

“Nothing about what I did was fine,” Two said. “What do you mean, ‘go crazy’?”

“There’s still something inside me that needs to hunt. Abraham’s blood gave that to me, or brought it out of me … I don’t know which. Just because he died and I turned back into something that looks like a human doesn’t mean it’s gone. It’s still there, and every day that went by after you left, it got a little bit stronger. The craving got worse and worse until it started to get hard to stand.

“I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to kill it with booze and sex and cigarettes. I tried everything I could think of to keep from remembering how it felt to bring down my prey and feel their blood splash all over me. Nothing worked, and it was eating me alive. That’s why I left my parents there. I had to get out …. It seemed like the whole house was collapsing in on me. That’s why I wasn’t there to protect them. That’s why they’re dead.”

“Oh, Tori …” Two began, but she stopped, not knowing how to apologize for what she’d done without having known she was doing it.

“I know you want this to be a wonderful reunion,” Tori said. “I know you want everything to be like it was before, and there’s a part of me that wants that too … but there’s another part of me that’s still so fucking angry at you for leaving. You unleashed this … this thing on the world, and then you just took off. I needed help and you weren’t there. Who else was I supposed to turn to? When Charles came and told me about the Children, he offered me not just a chance for revenge but the chance to feed that thing inside of me. How could I tell him no?”

Two shook her head. “I wouldn’t have said ‘no’ either. Tori, I didn’t know that you were going through all of this, but I’m sorry. I’d take it back if I could, but I can’t. All I can tell you is that I’m not the person I was when all of this started.”

“That makes two of us,” Tori muttered, glancing down at the blades in her hands.

“You said you want to tear down everything the Emperor has built,” Theroen said. “You want to put an end to this whole corrupt society of zealots. Is that true? Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Tori told him.

“Then help us do it,” Theroen said. “There are three hundred and fifty vampires amassing outside this building right now. We have but to open the floodgates and they will come pouring forth. Help us get to the top floor and open those doors, and you have my word that we will help you take the battle directly to the Emperor.”

Thomas spoke for the first time since Tori’s return. “There are good people in this place, Captain. Good people who are going to die if you let those things in here.”

“‘Things,’ Thomas?” Two asked. “Do you really still believe that bullshit? Is that what I am to you? What about Naomi? Just things?”

Thomas wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Doesn’t change my point.”

“There were good people at the Ay’Araf club,” Theroen said, his voice measured. There was no judgment in his eyes. If anything, Two thought she saw pity there. “There were good people at the cathedral your Emperor ordered burned to the ground. Many of those who were shot or stabbed or blown to bits never took a single human life, and more than one of them were champions for peace and understanding.”

“So what then, an eye for an eye?” Thomas asked. “My friends have to die because your friends did?”

“They could retreat,” Theroen said. “Tell me, if we gave them the chance to surrender, would they take it? Would you have taken it, if even six months ago Naomi had come to you with outstretched arms and an offer of peace?”

Thomas looked away, frowning. “I have no fuckin’ idea.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tori said, and with three swift strides she had reached Thomas’s side. Before he could say anything she had brought her blade down, and the chain that had been attached to Thomas’s ankle split apart. He was left staring at Tori in surprise.

“If you want to alert them, then go do it,” she told him. “I don’t care. The best chance your friends have is to realize the tide has turned. If they have any sense in their heads, they’ll get the fuck out of Dodge while they can. I’ll carve my way through every single person that stands between me and the Emperor, and you know it.”

“They’ll blow this place before you ever get close to him,” Thomas said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

“They need time to set the charges,” Tori replied. “The whole system is built so it can’t be rigged quickly, to prevent any one person from blowing the whole place up. They didn’t want someone getting suicidal and deciding to take the whole crew with him.”

“We do not want to give them that time,” Theroen said.

“We’re not going to,” Tori replied.

“Thomas … come with us,” Two said, and at this he glanced over at her.

“What did you say?”

“Come with us. These people don’t want you and they don’t care about you. They think you’re a traitor because you haven’t managed to stomp out every last part of your humanity. I know that you haven’t. You’re a good man and I don’t want Naomi to lose you. She cares about you very much.”

“What the fuck would she want with me? I’m the enemy and she’s known that for years, apparently, so she spent those years making me weak. She played me like a fuckin’ Stradivarius.”

Two laughed. “That’s what you think? God … boys are dumb.”

“Two, we have to go,” Theroen said. “Thomas must decide his own path.”

“All right,” Two said. “Tori, how close are we to midnight?”

Tori glanced down at the digital watch on her left wrist. “Eight minutes.”

“That enough time to get to the warehouse?”

“If you stop the bonding session and hurry the fuck up, yes,” Tori growled. Two rolled her eyes and glanced once more at Thomas.

“Last chance,” she said.

“You really think …?” Thomas began, and then he stopped himself, shrugging. “Fuck it, I’m in. The Emperor’s a lying, murdering piece of shit and I don’t want to play for his team anymore. If I come with you, at least I have a chance. Maybe I can even talk some sense into anyone we meet.”

“We are missing our weapons,” Theroen said.

“They’re in a locker by the front desk,” Tori replied. “We can get those cuffs off your ankles, too.”

“What about the guards?” Two asked.

“You mean the guards who tried to call up to the colonel when I decided to come back to the cell?” The tone of Tori’s voice told them everything they needed to know. Two blew air out through her pursed lips and nodded.

“Let’s do this,” she said.

* * *

If Thomas had hoped to talk with the first soldier they met, Tori didn’t give him the chance. Moving up the stairwell from the third sublevel, where the cells were, they had encountered a man holding an assault rifle out in front of him.

“Hey, stop right … holy shit, Captain Perr—” he began, and Tori leapt forward, stabbing one blade through the man’s trachea. The second she drove deep into his breastplate, just left of center, piercing his heart. As he slumped forward, she stepped back and removed her blades, and the soldier’s body tumbled down the stairs past the others.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Thomas muttered, and Tori glanced back at him.

“I made it quick,” she said. “I doubt there was much pain.”

“No, yeah, that’s terrific,” Thomas said, his distaste evident. “Just keep going, would you? Shit.”

Tori turned and led them again up the stairs, and Two was glad when they made it to the top, reaching the security door near which Theroen had earlier killed the guard. The man’s blood was still there, splashed on the concrete wall. She wondered for a moment if anyone had found his body in the men’s bathroom, or if it was still sitting there in the stall, a ghastly surprise waiting for the morning shift. She forced this image away and followed Tori through the door.

“Garage is down that way,” Tori said, pointing. “There may be people there. They’ll try to sound the alarm.”

“It would be best if they were prevented from doing so,” Theroen said.

“Well, no shit,” Tori replied, nonplussed. “That’s why I’m telling you this. The switch is on the far left, near the offices, which will be empty at this time of night. Anyone who’s there will be working on the floor, fixing vehicles or whatever.”

“I’ll guard the alarm,” Thomas said. He had equipped himself with a firearm taken from one of the cellblock guards.

“That fills me with confidence …” Tori said, and Thomas glared at her.

“I said I was in, right, Captain? I’m in. There’s going to be killing in there and I don’t want any fuckin’ part of it, so I’ll guard the alarm. If anyone comes toward it, I’ll stop them. I’m sure you’ve seen my combat marks … ain’t no one in there who’s going to be able to outfight me, even if I am half starved.”

“Fine,” Tori said, and she glanced again at her watch. “Four minutes. They won’t have firearms, so we should be able to keep it quiet. Once we’ve marked the hostiles, split off and engage. I can take two or three if I have to, and—”

“Tori, stop,” Two said. “We’re not soldiers, but we know what we’re doing. Just go. We’ll follow your lead.”

Tori glanced at her, and smiled, and for a moment there was something between them like friendship. Two’s heart welled up at this, but as quickly as it had come, Tori shoved it away.

“Stay close,” she said, and without further hesitation she began to run toward the far end of the hallway. Two followed, with Theroen right behind her. Thomas brought up the rear.

Tori kicked her foot out as they reached the entrance. Two had no idea if the door was locked, but it didn’t matter; the force of the former vampire’s speed and weight and strength blew the door off two of its three hinges, and it swung drunkenly inward. Two heard cries of surprise from inside and felt an almost overwhelming sadness rush through her. These were people – not monsters but just confused, misguided people – and she was going to have to kill them.

Please let tonight be the last time, she thought, though she didn’t know to whom the request was directed. I don’t ever want to do this again.

Then it was too late to think. They were engaging the enemy, and she was happy to let training and instinct take over. Tori had broken right, intercepting two people who had been racing toward the alarm. Two glanced in that direction, saw Thomas heading for it, and wondered if he was about to betray them. There was no time to worry about it; a man in green combat fatigues was charging at her, holding a massive wrench above his head with both hands.

Two was no longer the untrained girl who had confronted Abraham, nor even the fit but inexperienced fighter who had battled Aros’s horde of Burilgi. She had spent the past two and a half years training with perhaps the best Ay’Araf warrior in the Western Hemisphere, and this human – trained soldier though he might be – was no match for her.

Operating on instinct, which had always served her well but which under Jakob’s tutelage had been honed to a fine edge, she ducked down and leaned sideways, sticking her foot out to trip the man even as her blade bit into his abdomen, loosing his intestines on the concrete floor. He made a grunting noise of surprise as he fell forward on top of his own innards, and Two, who had no interest in torturing anyone, stood and turned, burying her sword deep in his skull. If the man had suffered, it hadn’t lasted long. He was dead by the time she removed her weapon and turned back to the fight.

Theroen had made similar short work of his foe, another man, taller and more muscular than Two’s heavyset opponent. That soldier was now lying on his back in a pool of his own blood, missing an arm and writhing in agony. He tried to sit up, and Two watched as Theroen delivered the killing blow. Behind him, she could see that Tori was finishing off the second of her two opponents. The fight had only lasted a few seconds, and they had cut down their enemies with barely a sound.

“That was good,” Tori said, stepping back up to the two of them. “Wasn’t sure you actually knew how to use those things.”

“I’ve been training,” Two told her. She glanced over at Thomas, who had left his post at the alarm switch and was making his way toward the group, trying not to look at the dead soldiers on the ground.

“Guess that’s done,” he said.

“Do you know how to open these, Tori?” Theroen asked, gesturing to his left. The entire west wall of the facility was lined with massive garage doors, each large enough to allow easy entrance to a tractor-trailer.

“I don’t think we can do them all at once,” Tori said, and she began to walk in that direction. The others followed.

“Well, even if someone tries to stop us, at least we can get a few of them open,” Two said.

“Right,” Tori replied, stopping at the first door. “I think this is it.”

There was a large yellow box attached to the wall, an electrical pipe rising up from it, and two large, black buttons on its face. Tori pressed the top one in and waited, but nothing happened.

“Never had to work this shift, Captain?” Thomas asked, a small smile on his face, and Tori glanced over at him.

“My education was a bit different than the rest of yours,” she conceded, and Thomas nodded.

“They turn off the main breaker at night. Hang on.” He stepped over toward a large, grey panel and flipped it open. There was a snapping sound as he flipped the appropriate circuit breaker and returned. “Try now.”

Tori pressed the green button again and smiled as the door began to rise, the sound of the chain-driven mechanism echoing out from above. Warmth wafted in from the summer night outside, and Two could smell the wet air coming off the Great Lake that lay just to the east.

“Good, everyone else grab one,” Two said, and they split apart, each heading for a door. It was necessary to hold the button down for the duration, and so for a moment there was nothing to do but stand and wait. When the doors had reached the end of their tracks, the group moved on to the second four.

When all eight doors were open, Two turned and peered out into the night. She couldn’t see anyone out there, but she knew that meant nothing. They had studied the elevation maps around the area, and there was a large drop-off just behind the Children’s building, filled with trees. The plan had been to use this as a staging area, and she had little doubt it was now filled with vampires.

Theroen stepped up next to her and looked out into the dark. He drew in a breath and called out into the night, “Ma haptoni se impto, prinate essi intive.” It was the signal that had been agreed upon. Sasha, Lewis, and Leonore would know that it meant the time had come.

Indeed, there was a tremendous rustling from just over the hill, past the chain-link fence that surrounded the parking lot, and Two saw the first vampires begin to emerge. Lewis was there, and Sasha. Leonore, not a fighter, was likely hanging back in case there was trouble.

When Lewis reached the fence, he produced a pair of hand held bolt cutters and began taking apart the links. Two saw other vampires doing the same as the crowd behind them swelled. The fence was not electrified; the Children wanted to maintain a low profile, and so their business appeared on the surface to be entirely normal. The last thing they needed or wanted was some innocent bystander touching the fence and getting killed. The razor wire at the top, combined with their surveillance system, had served them well.

“Jesus,” Two said. “This might actually work.”

That was when something hit the floor to her right with a clank. Turning, she saw a human woman scrabbling out from underneath a half-disassembled truck. The noise had come from a tool that she had knocked from the truck’s wheel well. Two knew even as she began to shout that no one was going to reach her in time, not even Tori, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Shit! The alarm! Someone—”

Tori was moving already, had started moving even before Two opened her mouth, but there was too much distance to cover. The woman made it to the alarm before Tori could reach her and yanked on the metal handle. Immediately, orange lights on the ceiling began flashing and a long, wailing siren echoed out from within the building. There could be no doubt; the Children’s security had been compromised, and now they knew it.

Chapter 23
Holding the Fort

“Dupont, I want those fucking cameras working right now,” Miller shouted. The alarms were still blaring, and Vanessa felt a cold, tight ball in her stomach; she shouldn’t be here in the CC, where everything was observed by cameras and taking action meant issuing commands via phone or intercom. She should be out with what was left of her squad, fighting whatever invaders had entered the building.

“Sir,” she tried.

Miller ignored her, shouting at another aide. “Baker, take the timer down as low as it can go. Two hours. I want those charges going off in two hours. Then I want you to take your men and go stand guard at the Emperor’s door. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” the young man said, visibly distressed. Vanessa was not enthusiastic about sending a green lieutenant to lead the defense of the Emperor, but she supposed it was better than nothing.

“Colonel Miller, I need to go,” she said, trying a more forceful pitch. This got his attention, and the colonel glanced over at her.

“You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do and not a goddamn thing otherwise, Captain. You haven’t been chosen yet, and I still outrank you.”

Guess he does know, Vanessa thought, and she bit her lip to keep from protesting.

“Colonel, we’ve cut off the intruder!” called a man at one of the workstations. “He was buried, but we found him and killed his access. The cams are coming back online.”

“Good work,” Miller said, and he swung around to look at the video screens. “At least we can see what we’re dealing with.”

One by one the monitors switched over to their real-time feeds, starting with the fourth-floor gymnasium and moving up. When they reached the first sublevel, Vanessa drew a sharp breath in through her teeth. Dozens of soldiers were fighting against what looked like an ocean of vampires pouring forth from the stairwell and elevators.

“Lock the elevators down right now!” Miller shouted.

There was a slamming sound, and Vanessa turned to see the other two colonels coming into the room. There was a hierarchy among them, and Vanessa knew that Miller – the oldest and longest serving of the three – wouldn’t cede command to Davis until the attackers had been repelled. Still, she imagined their assistance would be very helpful to him.

“What’s the status, Gene?” Colonel Palowski asked as he stepped up to the bank of monitors. “How many are there?”

“Goddamned if I know,” Miller replied. “A lot, but most of them don’t know what the hell they’re doing. Look … that one soldier’s killed four of them.”

Vanessa glanced at the monitor and felt her heart skip a beat. The woman on the screen was battling with two vampires, wielding both a gun and a blade, the bodies of those she had already defeated lying around her.

“Carrie …” Vanessa muttered, and then she turned again to Miller. “Sir, please. Please!”

Miller glanced back over at her, frowning. “You are way too valuable to throw away.”

“Who else do you have?” Vanessa asked, trying not to shout. “Name me another soldier with more field experience at a higher level? Captain Perrault, maybe? She’s missing, and those people need someone to lead them.”

“You expect me to let the Emperor’s Left Hand go charging off into battle and get herself killed?”

“I’m not the fucking Left Hand of anything. Not yet. You know it, and I know it, and until it’s official I’m just Captain Vanessa Harper. That woman on the screen is one of my soldiers, and one of my friends, and she needs help. Let me help her!”

Miller glanced at his fellow colonels. Davis seemed completely uninterested, and Palowski was smiling slightly. “I say turn her loose,” he said.

“I’m not doing anything here,” Vanessa said. “I’m just standing around, and I am not good at just standing around, Colonel.”

Miller sighed, looked back at the monitors and then again at Vanessa. He shook his head.

“If you get yourself killed and the Emperor comes asking questions, everyone here will testify that it was your choice.”

“Yes! Fine! Absolutely, it’s my choice, sir. I’m not comfortable staying here and I want to go help my people.”

Miller paused a moment longer, then ran a hand across his face.

“Go on,” he said, and before he had even completed the words, Vanessa was headed for the door. She had her sidearm and the extra clip, and she could scavenge a blade from a fallen soldier or vampire. It would have to be enough.

As she left the Command Center, she heard Miller shouting another order. “Get those fucking garage doors closed! If any of them are still outside, let’s leave them out there.”

* * *

Each sublevel contained two stairwells, one at the east end and one at the west. Only the western staircase gave access to the ground floor, where the vampires were coming from, and it was this one that Vanessa tried first, hoping to get to the front lines immediately. She found that a group of soldiers had been pushed back into the stairwell, forming a sort of clot between the first sublevel and the second. Some of the vampires were making an attempt to break through the bottleneck, but they had so far been unsuccessful.

“I want a status update, now!” Vanessa shouted at the lieutenant who seemed to be organizing the resistance, and when he looked over and saw Vanessa, he snapped to attention.

“We’re at a bit of a standstill, ma’am,” he said. “The bats just came flooding down into level one. We managed to keep them off the lower floors and we even killed a few, but it’s been mostly a standoff.”

“Understood. There aren’t any bats on level two yet, so they must not have reached the east stairs. That’s good. It means the folks up above are holding them off. Listen, Lieutenant … what do you have for arms?”

“Assault rifles and handguns, mostly. Decent supply of ammo. Six frag grenades and two incendiaries. We might have an EMP or two, but …”

“But they’re not robot vampires, so fuck that,” Vanessa finished for him, and the soldier grinned, nodding. “Fine. I need two or three more clips for my pistol and a frag if you can spare one. Keep the rest. Listen to me … you hold this staircase, you got that? I’m going to go lead a push upstairs, but right now you are the only thing between the bats and the Command Center.”

“I’ll uh … I’ll try, ma’am.”

“Don’t try. Do it. You’ve pulled these troops together and kept the bats back so far, and that is some A-plus work. When we get through this, I will personally see that you’re recognized for it. You have my word, all right?”

The lieutenant swelled with pride. “Yes ma’am. We’ll keep them back.”

“Good. Come find me afterward … I take care of people who deserve it.”

“I will.”

“OK. Go grab me that ammo.”

He nodded and moved off toward a space underneath the stairs where a few men and women had gathered, a floor-plan spread out between them, arguing about tactics. They moved at his command, allowing him access to a small footlocker that someone had dragged up from the armory on the third level. He pulled the requested items from the footlocker and made his way back to her.

“All yours, Captain,” he said, handing them to her, and Vanessa nodded her thanks as she pocketed them.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” she said. “I’m going to go up the east stairs and rally our troops on the first floor. We’re going to rush this stairwell from that floor and force them back up to ground level. Then we’re going to meet with your crew and use the rest of the frags to render the staircase impassable, trapping them up there. All you have to do is hold them for a few more minutes.”

“We’ll keep them up there, Captain,” the soldier told her, and Vanessa nodded. Then she turned, moving back the way she had come, racing down the long hallway past the entrance to the Command Center, past the senior officers’ living quarters, and finally past the door that led to the Emperor’s chambers. After that, there was only the eastern stairwell, empty for now, and she quickly reached the first sublevel.

She shoved her way through the fire door and entered into a disorienting scene. Most of the lights on the floor had been disabled – what was left was a strange combination of blue-white LED light emerging from a few floor grids and the flashing orange of the whirling claxons – and the hall was filled with a cacophony of sounds. The sirens were still wailing, people were shouting, and there were erratic bursts of gunfire from the far end of the hall. She could smell the acrid scent of gunpowder in the air.

“Captain!” someone shouted to her right, and Vanessa looked over. A private was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, holding a bandage against his right shoulder. The cotton fabric was stained with blood. Vanessa moved over next to him and hunkered down.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

“One of the bats stabbed me before my buddy gunned him down,” he said. “It’s not bad, but the whole thing’s numb. Can’t lift anything, can’t even hold a gun. They sent me back for first aid, but the one medic we’ve got has enough on her hands. I’m just staying out of the way until we have to retreat.”

“I’ll get some more bandages,” Vanessa said. “I can come back and wrap it.”

The private shook his head. “Don’t. I’m not going to die, and I can’t feel my fingers so even if it was wrapped up, I’m not worth shit. The guys up front need your help.”

Vanessa looked at him for a long moment, and the private managed something that resembled a smile.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Go on, Captain.”

“Once we’ve got the situation in hand, I’m sending someone back to wrap up that wound. Stay safe, Private.”

“You know it, ma’am,” he said, and he gave her a smile that looked more genuine. Vanessa tried her best to return it and then she was up and moving again, headed for the smoke and gunshots and screams.

Carrie was there when she reached the line that the troops had managed to hold, about halfway down the hallway. She was crouched behind some hastily thrown-together barricades made from tables and other furniture, and had traded her blade for an assault rifle. Vanessa couldn’t see any vampires; the end of the hallway had filled with smoke. She came toward the barricade at a run, dropping to her knees and sliding up next to her soldier.

“Hi,” she said as she arrived, and Carrie turned to look at her with an expression of surprise.

“They let you out of the CC?” she asked.

“I kinda made them.”

“Good. Well, we took out a few of them but then shit got pretty hairy. They sent down some people who really know how to fight, and we had to retreat a bit.”

“Probably Ay’Araf,” Vanessa said. “They led with the Burilgi – I saw you take out a few of them on the monitors – but once they realized it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk, they turned the real fighters loose.”

“I’m shooting first, worrying about specifics later,” Carrie said. “The important thing is killing bats.”

“I hear you.” For a moment Vanessa thought of Charles, and of the things he had told her in those final days before he had succumbed to the cancer that had been eating away his brain. Then she pushed those thoughts out of her head.

“You seen Park?” she asked.

“Park’s dead,” Carrie replied, not looking over at her. “He was heading for the CC when the elevators opened. Burilgi fucker jumped right out and latched onto his neck. He was still alive when we gunned the thing down, but there wasn’t anything we could do for him. It tore him wide open, Captain … he bled out before the first medic even got here.”

“Fuck!” Vanessa felt a wave of despair rolling over her, but she fought against it.

“Yeah, it was bad. I was searching for Captain Perrault when the alarms went off and I had to come upstairs. If I’d still been in the barracks, it probably would’ve been me and not Park in front of that elevator.”

“Shouldn’t have been either of you,” Vanessa said. “Someone hacked the surveillance systems and replaced their playback with the stuff from yesterday. Nobody noticed. Someone should’ve, and when we’re done with this, I’m going to find out who it is and break their goddamn fingers.”

“I’ll help,” Carrie muttered. She fired another few shots into the smoke. Around them, other soldiers were doing the same, but it seemed that for the moment the vampires were not pressing.

“This isn’t going to last,” Vanessa said. “Even if we can hold them here, the group on the stairs is vulnerable.”

“I think we’re lucky they’re bottlenecked,” Carrie said.

Vanessa knew they were lucky. In an open arena, the vampires would have swarmed them by now. Without the element of surprise, an individual Children soldier might be a match for one or two Burilgi at a time, but a horde of them with Ay’Araf commanders would be overwhelming.

The bottleneck had saved them, it was true, but it might also be their undoing; there was no way out that Vanessa knew of, except through the Command Center. If that fell before the charges had been armed, then there would be no escape. At that point, she wasn’t even sure it would matter. The bats would be able to stop the countdown, take control of the facility, and gain access to every bit of knowledge the Children had collected, including the locations of their secondary headquarters and every safe house.

“We have to push forward,” she said. “We have to trap them up there.”

“I’m with you, Ness. What’s the plan?”

“No idea. Have you seen any other officers down here?”

“Saw a lieutenant, I think. He took a blade to the chest and they dragged him into that bunk room, over there.”

Carrie pointed, and Vanessa glanced over, nodding. “Thanks. Stay here with the others and hold this position. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Vanessa got back to her feet and made her way down the hall toward the room Carrie had indicated. The door was half closed, and she could hear hushed voices behind it. She didn’t wait to see if she could make out any words, but rather strode directly in.

The sight that greeted her was discouraging. There were perhaps two dozen soldiers in the room, and of those only two were on their feet. One was the medic, and she was talking quietly to a soldier while sewing up his arm. The other was a sergeant – and a relatively new one at that, judging by how shiny the triple-chevrons sewn onto his sleeve looked. The other soldiers were all lying on bunks, most of them incapacitated with wounds that ranged from severe to devastating.

“Captain!” the medic exclaimed, startled by the sudden entry. She stood up, dropping her tools in mid-suture on the injured soldier’s chest, and stood rigid, saluting. Vanessa flicked her hand up to her brow and back down.

“At ease, for fuck’s sake … finish sewing that guy up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the medic said, and she turned back to her work. The sergeant stepped up in front of Vanessa and gave a quick salute.

“It’s good to see you, ma’am. We could use some more combat experience up here.”

“That’s what I hear. Where’s the lieutenant?”

The medic glanced up, a sick and sorry expression on her face. “He didn’t make it. We … we put the bodies in the lav. We didn’t want the other soldiers to have to look at them.”

“That’s the right call,” Vanessa said. She turned to the sergeant, who was looking uncomfortable. “That makes you the ranking officer up here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the young man said, and Vanessa saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed.

“What’s your name?”

“Jackson, Captain.”

“Right. You want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing in here, Jackson, and not out leading the men?”

“I – I didn’t … I wasn’t sure if the lieutenant … and then, I mean …” The sergeant was stammering, and Vanessa felt an odd combination of pity and disgust welling up within her. This kid wasn’t ready, and it wasn’t his fault, but someone had made him a sergeant and that meant he had responsibilities. Hiding in this makeshift medical bay was not among them. Now she was going to have to play the bad cop.

“The fucking lieutenant is dead,” she snapped. “Not only that, but you should have known better than to follow him in here to begin with. Your men are out there holding off the enemy and you’re in here with your dick in your hand. Where’s your rifle?”

“O-over there, ma’am.”

“Go pick it up and get the fuck out into that hallway. I want you to rally the troops that are out there and get them ready. We’re making a push for the stairs in five minutes, you got me?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Good. Get out there and maybe I’ll forget about this when it comes time to write my report.”

“Thank you, Ca—”

“Go!” Vanessa snarled, and Jackson went. The medic, a young recruit who Vanessa had never seen before, glanced up briefly, unable to contain a smirk. Vanessa met the expression with cool disapproval.

“Pay attention to your work, Private,” she growled. “Fix these guys up as well as you can and then get down the hall with some bandages. There’s a soldier there who needs help.”

“Yes, Captain,” the woman said, properly chastised. She had finished sewing up the soldier’s wound and made her way to the next bed.

“Jesus Christ,” Vanessa muttered to herself. She turned and made her way back to the smoke-filled hallway. There, Jackson had assembled a large group of soldiers, including Carrie. Vanessa did a quick count and came away with twenty-four.

“Hunker down,” she told them, and they did so, gathering around her in a ring. “There are twenty-five of us. We’re better trained, we know the layout of this place front to back, and we have superior weapons. We can push these fuckers back and secure the stairs.”

She glanced around, looking at the scratched and dirtied faces of the men and women who were waiting on her for instructions. After a moment, she took a breath and spoke.

“The guys down in that stairwell have been holding the line for you and for the Emperor. They’re tired and beat up. They’re wondering if anyone’s going to come help them. They’re waiting for us, and we are not going to let them down.”

Vanessa had never given this sort of speech before, and she wondered if she sounded as false and uncertain to their ears as she sounded to her own. She thought perhaps not, judging by the expressions on their faces. She could see fear there, of course, but she could also see pride and a strange sort of desire, as if many of them yearned to begin the combat.

“We may not be able to get them out of our building, but we can get them up to the first floor and block them out. That will give the colonels time to finish getting the charges armed. Once we’re sure the bats are locked out, we’re going to make a tactical retreat to the CC. That’s the plan, but it only works if we push them back. Everything hinges on making this push.”

There had always been an escape plan in the event of an attack. Once the Emperor had been safely evacuated, the colonels would direct the rest of the soldiers through the emergency exit. The countdown would finish and the charges would go off, irrevocably destroying everything inside and caving the entire building in on itself. Vanessa hoped the explosion killed every goddamned bat left inside.

“Jackson,” she said, turning to the sergeant who she’d previously chewed out. This was a tactical decision she thought would work.

“Ma’am!” he shouted, looking over at her.

“This is a whole group of badass motherfuckers, right here,” she said, gesturing toward the soldiers on his half of the circle. “You think I should trust you to lead them?”

“Absolutely, Captain!” Jackson said, and she could see the relief in his eyes, the understanding that she was giving him a chance to redeem himself.

“I want you to take the left side of the hallway. If you see anything that looks like a bat, shoot first and ask me for permission after, you got me?”

“Got you,” Jackson said. Vanessa gave him a bloodthirsty grin.

“Good. Take your people and move to that point behind the left barricade. On my signal, you go around, and I don’t give a shit what you find once you get into the smoke, you keep moving until you hit those stairs, got it? Good. Go!”

Jackson went, shouting for his troops to follow him, and Vanessa watched as they moved forward, illuminated by the flashing orange lights and the occasional working overhead lamp. They looked like soldiers. She hoped that was what they were.

“Carrie, the rest of them are yours,” she said.

Carrie’s good eye widened in surprise. “Captain, maybe you should—”

“I will be taking point, straight down the middle. You’re going right.”

“But—”

“Sergeant, either you shut up now or I send you to the back of the line. You outrank these soldiers, you can out-fight any of them, and I truly don’t give a fuck about your depth perception right now. So what’s it gonna be?”

Carrie paused a moment longer and then nodded. “We’ll take the right side.”

“Good. When I give the signal to go, I want you right behind me. Same thing I told Jackson … kill anything that looks like a bat. Are we clear?”

“Absolutely, Captain.”

“Good. Go get your people in position.”

Carrie turned and instructed her soldiers to move out, then led them toward the right barricade. Vanessa checked her sidearm and glanced down at the grenade hanging at her side. That one wasn’t for the stairwell; it was for the smoke, before she led the charge.

I really wish Captain Perrault was here, she thought, and then she took a deep breath and forced herself to move. She scuttled up toward the barricades, keeping her weapon ready, and took her place next to Carrie on the right side. Across the small gap they would be exiting through, Jackson was watching her.

“Stay left!” she shouted, and he nodded. She turned to Carrie, but the woman was already nodding as well.

“We stay right. We’re on it, Captain.”

“Good,” Vanessa said, and she took the frag grenade from her belt, preparing to pull the pin and throw it into the smoke. “Let’s give them a surprise first. On my mark. Let’s fucking sh—”

Vanessa and her people never had the chance to see if their attack would have worked. They were never even given the time to begin. In the middle of her sentence there were three deep, bass thuds, followed by a thunderous rumbling. The end of the hallway, the point that she could no longer see because it was so filled with smoke, began to glow orange.

“Oh, Jesus … down! GET DOWN!” Vanessa screamed, and she dove to her right, toward Carrie, falling to the floor behind the barricade even as a great ball of fire rolled up and over them all.

Chapter 24
Making an Entrance

The warbling claxon that rose up from the interior of the building felt like a signal – the easy part was now over, and things would only get harder from here. Considering how difficult it had already been, Two was not looking forward to what lay ahead. She saw the soldier that had hidden under the truck and made that last, desperate rush to the alarm’s trigger give a triumphant grin even as Tori reached her.

Tori made a roaring noise of fury and leapt, both blades held above her head, pointing down. She drove them into each of the woman’s shoulders, and the soldier shrieked in agony as Tori used them to hurl her away from the alarm. The blades tore their way free and the woman landed not with a thud but a sort of horrific squelching noise that Two wished fervently she had not heard.

“Traitor!” the woman was screaming as Tori advanced on her. “Vampire traitor! The Emperor will have you. The Emperor will—”

“The only thing your murdering Emperor is going to do is die,” Tori shouted, and she drove both of the weapons into the woman’s chest. The soldier arched her back for a moment before going limp. Tori pulled her swords from the body and turned away in angry disgust, running rapidly back toward Two and Theroen.

“Get them inside!” she shouted. “Tell them to hurry. The fucking doors can be controlled remotely. We have to get everyone inside before they get their systems back and shut everything down.”

Two nodded, turned, and caught sight of Sasha and Lewis amidst the rapidly growing crowd in the parking lot. “We’ve only got a few minutes! Get them in here, now!”

Lewis and Sasha began calling out, trying to organize the throng of vampires that now surrounded them. Two took up the call as well, gesturing into the warehouse. She could hear Theroen and Tori doing the same. Only Thomas was staying silent, standing at his door and watching with distaste as the vampires poured through. Two didn’t blame him; she couldn’t imagine what it was like to stand aside as death came for the people he had long thought of as brothers and sisters – not to mention his actual sister.

“They need to hit the first sublevel hard,” Tori was saying. “That’s where the barracks are. We have to hit the troops before they have a chance to organize. While they’re working on level one, we head for the Emperor’s quarters on level two. You, me, and Theroen. That’s all we need.”

“Thomas is gonna want to come,” Two said. “He won’t want to be left alone with three hundred vampires.”

“Whatever,” Tori said. “Just … Christ, these people have no training. It’s like herding cats.”

“Well the Ay’Araf are … oh, fuck … Tori, you might want to kind of back off.” While the early crowd had been almost entirely Burilgi, she was noticing some Ay’Araf mixed in among them now, and more than a few were staring at Tori with abject hatred on their faces.

“What? Why? I … oh.”

“Too late,” Two groaned as she caught sight of Sasha. The woman had broken off from shouting orders at people and was stalking toward them. She had drawn her sword, and her prosthetic left hand was balled into a fist.

“Sasha, don’t—” Two began, but Tori shushed her. She stepped up next to Two and then stood firm, holding her own blades loosely at her sides. Sasha stopped before her, and for a moment the two appraised each other.

“Sasha, is it?” Tori asked, and the Ay’Araf woman nodded, her lips pursed into a thin line.

“That is my name. I believe yours is Tori?”

“That’s me.”

“You cut off my patron’s head,” Sasha said. “He was a great man, and a great warrior, and you resorted to dishonorable tactics, ganging up on him and filling him with poison. You murdered him, and I am standing before you now to ask why it is that I shouldn’t do everything I can to cut you down where you stand.”

“Na wovremon pashtami zhi tuvi na vombite qitte,” Tori said, and Two turned to stare at her in surprise. Sasha’s reaction was much more violent. Her entire body jerked, and it seemed she kept herself from leaping forward only through a tremendous effort of self-control.

“How dare you speak our language?!” she shouted. “You are not one of us!”

“No, but I was,” Tori said. “I don’t expect that to mean anything to you, but it means something to me. I’m trapped now between two worlds and I’m still trying to find my way. I’ve made one huge mistake with this new life that Two gave me, and that was trusting the Emperor of the Sun. He murdered my parents and told me your people did it, and I believed him. For four years I’ve raged against all of the vampires of the world when it was my own master whose head I should have chopped off.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Sasha asked, and Tori shook her head.

“No. I’m not sorry about your patron, either. I know you want me to be, but I’m not. I never knew him and I never swore to abide by whatever code of honor it was he followed. He was my enemy, we were engaged in combat, and one of the two of us was going to die. I did what I could to make sure it wasn’t me. Maybe someday I’ll learn more about him, and realize that was I did was terrible, and come to you to apologize. Maybe I’ll regret what I’ve done. I don’t know.”

“Do you think you will regret it, in your last moments, if I kill you right here?”

“Sasha, please …” Two started, but Tori again motioned for her to be quiet.

“She doesn’t give a shit, Two.”

“I truly don’t,” Sasha agreed.

“The Children spent the last four years pumping me full of drugs,” Tori said to Sasha. “If it makes you feel any better, at the time I did it, I couldn’t remember Two’s name even when she was standing right in front of me. I couldn’t remember who she was or why I knew her. There was no chance that I was going to identify your patron as a ‘great man’ … to me he was just one more vampire to kill.

“If you want to seek vengeance, I can’t keep you from trying, but I’m not going to stand here while you do it, either. If we have to fight, let’s get it over with. I’ll kill you like I killed your patron, and then I’ll go kill the Emperor. That’s the only thing left that I care about, and I’m not going to let you stop me from doing it.”

“There’s not enough fucking time for this!” Two shouted, and now both women glanced over at her. “You’re both on the same side, at least right now. You want to have some stupid fight to the death? Do it later. Right now we need you both, so cut it out with this bullshit!”

Sasha looked back at Tori, and the two held each other’s gaze for a long moment. At last, the Ay’Araf vampire spoke.

“Another time, perhaps?” she asked.

“When this is over, my schedule’s open,” Tori replied. “Come find me.”

“I may do that,” Sasha said. “I may just.”

She waited a moment longer and then turned on her heel, moving away and shouting out commands to the vampires who had assembled in the warehouse. Almost immediately, groups of vampires began charging through the warehouse door, headed for the elevators at the end of the hall. Two rested her head against her hand.

“For Christ’s sake,” she growled.

“I thought that went well,” Tori volunteered, and Two gave a disgusted laugh.

“Yeah, fan-fucking-tastic. Would it have killed you to say you’re sorry?”

“But I’m not sorry,” Tori said.

“That’s not the fucking point! Jesus, Tori, you can’t always just … just tell the truth like that. It’s not how people do things. How are you ever going to come back to normal life?”

Tori looked at her, head tilted, an expression of slight curiosity on her face. “Normal like yours?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No. I know what you think you mean, but that life’s closed to both of us at this point. I’m not interested in pretending it’s still possible.”

“You must be a fucking blast at parties,” Two said. She could see Theroen making his way over to them, and she welcomed the opportunity to focus on something else. Dealing with Tori was depressing her.

“What is our plan?” Theroen asked as he arrived.

“Get past the bad guys, kill their boss, save the world … just normal life,” Two said, and Theroen glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. Two shook her head. “Never mind.”

“We need to get to sublevel two,” Tori said. “That’s where the Emperor’s quarters are. I’ve never been there, but I’m sure they’ll be guarded, both inside and out. I have no idea what to expect once we get in, and it’s possible they’ve already made some attempt to evacuate him.”

“What do we do if that’s the case?” Two asked.

“I’ll follow him to the ends of the fucking Earth if I have to,” Tori said. “You do whatever you like.”

“Do you think they will have evacuated him already?” Theroen asked, and Tori shrugged.

“They’ve only known there was a threat for five minutes. They won’t have gotten him out yet, but they may have started. We need to move before they get control of the elevators. That hallway is a serious bottleneck. Your people need to push through to the first floor and secure the west stairwell for our use.”

Two heard a series of staccato sounds that she thought might be bursts from an automatic weapon. She glanced over at Theroen, who was watching the throng of vampires headed for the elevators.

“It’s starting,” she said, and she began to move forward. “Come on.”

* * *

“This isn’t going to work,” Sasha said. Two glanced at Theroen and Tori, who looked equally unenthusiastic, and then over at the crowd of vampires still milling in the hallway, waiting to reach the action. Thomas was sitting on the floor, legs crossed and eyes closed.

Shortly after Two had entered the hallway, Theroen and Tori just behind her, the elevators had been disabled. All three were now stuck on the second sublevel. A group of Children soldiers had secured positions in the stairwell, and another had thrown together a barricade in the middle of the first sublevel. The vampires had tried to break through both points, but the action had resulted in a large number of Burilgi and one or two Ay’Araf losing their lives. Those who had been able to retreat had reported that part of the first sublevel was burning, but that the flames were not spreading. Too much of the structure was made of concrete or steel.

“We can’t just sit here all night,” Tori said.

“We’re open to suggestions,” Lewis told her.

“Can we climb down to the elevators and force them open?” Two asked, and Tori shook her head.

“They’re locked down with multiple steel rods. There’s no way to open them, even for people as strong as us. Anyway, even if we get them open, we still have to deal with the soldiers on the first floor who are shooting at us.”

“We need something that can remove the doors and the soldiers,” Sasha said. “The obvious solution is an explosion.”

“Did we bring anything explosive?” Theroen asked.

“A few grenades,” Lewis told him. “The council didn’t really stock up on that stuff. We have a lot of guns and swords, not much of anything else.”

Two turned to Tori and asked, “What about the Children? They definitely know how to blow things up.”

“We have C-4 and detonators, yes,” Tori said. “But our munitions bay is down on the third sublevel. That’s where it’s all stored.”

“Well, they don’t know that you’re working against them yet, right? Couldn’t you go down and get some?”

Tori frowned. “First, they’ve probably found the bodies in cellblock and worked out what happened. Second, if they haven’t, they’ll want me to assume command of a squad. Third, even if I made it down there, what am I supposed to say when I’m coming back with the C-4? That I’m just taking an evening stroll through the vampire-infested section of our headquarters?”

“Yeah, I guess that won’t work,” Two said.

“No. We need something up here. Gasoline and oil won’t work. It has to be military-grade explosives. I … wait … oh, shit, of course!”

The others were all looking at Tori now, waiting for her to continue. She grinned and said, “All of our transports can self-destruct if necessary. Even the cars. If we harvest the C-4 and detonators from them, it should be enough to blow all three elevator doors open.”

“I would have thought such systems would be wired to explode if tampered with,” Sasha said.

“Well, of course they are,” Tori replied. “But most officers at my level know the code to disarm them. There’s about a dozen vehicles. Grab some people and follow me.”

Tori turned without waiting to see if they would obey and began making her way back toward the garage. Two glanced at Theroen, who shrugged, and started down the hallway as well. Two followed him, and Lewis came behind, motioning for several nearby vampires, Burilgi men and women that she did not know, to accompany them.

There were six cars, four SUVs, two pickup trucks, and an APC to harvest from, but Tori explained that the work would be relatively quick. Each vehicle contained three clumps of explosives, strategically placed to do the most damage. Each steel box containing the C-4 was bolted together, but there was no shortage of tools in the warehouse.

“Let’s disarm them all first. Just open each one and hit 6994931 on the keypad under the steering well. If the light goes green, you’re clear. If it goes red … well, if it goes red then they’ve changed the code and you should run like hell.”

“Oh, that’s comforting,” Two muttered, but she made her way over to one of the cars and pulled on the door handle. She could see Tori heading for the APC, and Theroen moving toward one of the pickup trucks.

Two slid into the driver’s seat and leaned down. Just as Tori had said, there was a small black keypad installed below the steering column. Two took a breath, held it, and typed in the code. After a moment, the light blinked green and held steady. Two let out her breath in a small sigh of relief.

The group rapidly made their way through the thirteen vehicles, disarming the systems. Tori then removed one of the boxes and instructed them on how to open it and extract the putty-like C-4 and its detonator.

“Try to get as much of the trailing wire as you can,” Tori said. “I’m going to need it.”

They went to work. In less than ten minutes, they had stripped the vehicles and formed an impressive pile of the explosive compound. Two thought they had perhaps thirty-five feet of wire, which didn’t seem like nearly enough to reach a safe distance. She expressed her doubts to Tori, who said simply, “Already thought of that,” as she headed for the hallway.

“Pull as many as you can back to the far end of the warehouse,” she said to Sasha as she went by. “Leave enough in the stairwell to hold it, but let them know that when they hear me shout the order to move, they need to get their asses out of there and all the way back to the warehouse as fast as they can. In ten minutes, no one’s going to want to be anywhere near this bank of elevators.”

Without further discussion, still holding the large collection of explosive material, she leapt down into the first elevator shaft. Two heard the noise of her landing on the roof of the elevator car.

“Your friend is used to having people obey her orders without question,” Sasha said.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Two said.

“I will add it to the list of grievances,” Sasha said. “For the moment, I believe we should get these people out of here. That was a great deal of C-4.”

They went to work, asking the assembled vampires to move back into the warehouse. As they were finishing, Tori returned from the third elevator shaft, carrying with her the tips of the wires attached to the detonators down below. She laid them on the floor next to the wires from the other shafts and began twisting them together. Two moved over next to her.

“OK,” she said. “Everyone’s back. I get how this is supposed to work … except for the part where you have to stand right here next to three open elevator shafts to set the things off.”

“I was planning on closing the doors,” Tori said, still working on the wires.

“Come on …”

“Right, no, I’m not that strong. If you want to do me a favor, go through those doors into the office wing. There’s a hundred-foot extension cord running from the outer edge of the west wall all the way to the projector in the conference room at the far end. Total fire hazard, but the idiots couldn’t be bothered to wire the room. You’ll see it.”

“How do you remember this shit?” Two asked, and Tori glanced over her shoulder, a grim smile on her face.

“The Emperor trained me very well,” she said, and then went back to knotting the wires.

As Two was heading for the cubicle farm, Theroen caught up with her. She explained the situation to him as he followed her into the open room.

“There it is, just like she said.” Two moved over and unplugged the cord from the wall, looping it over her shoulder and moving toward the conference room.

“Her mind is quite something,” Theroen said. “I do wonder what techniques they used to train her.”

“Whatever they were, I’m sure they were awful,” Two replied. She reached the glass room and pulled the projector from the extension cord. She tried to imagine the Children soldiers she had encountered sitting around watching a PowerPoint presentation and found the image utterly baffling.

“Obviously drugs were involved,” Theroen said. “Most likely psychological manipulation as well.”

“It’s starting to wear off, though,” Two said. “The old Tori’s coming back. Can you tell?”

“I never knew the old Tori,” Theroen said. “She does seem to be more at ease with you, though, than she was when this started.”

Two smiled. “I knew she was in there somewhere. I knew it!”

“At the next council meeting, feel free to engage in a well-earned ‘I told you so,’ but for now, we should stick to the task at hand.”

Two nodded. “Let’s go blow some shit up.”

When they reached Tori, she had finished tying the wires together and was standing above them, looking impatient. Two handed her the extension cord, and without a word, Tori pulled one of her blades from its sheath at her side and cut the female end off. She quickly separated the wires and attached them to those that led down into the elevators.

“So, when you plug that in …” Two began.

“There’s going to be a shitload of sparks and a huge fucking explosion,” Tori finished for her. “Right. I used less C-4 in the elevator on the left. With any luck, we won’t collapse the stairwell.”

“That’d be a plus,” Two said.

“Is everyone back?”

“Everyone except the people holding the stairs.”

“Perfect. You guys go, too. Far wall, and you might want to get behind something. I’m not kidding.”

“What about you?” Theroen asked. “That cord will not reach the far wall.”

“I’ll manage,” Tori said. “I’m not going to blow myself up unless I know it’s going to take out the Emperor at the same time. Don’t worry about it.”

“If I wasn’t worried about you, you’d still be playing for the other team,” Two said.

“Yeah, and if you had worried enough to not leave me in Ohio in the first place, I’d never have gotten wrapped up in this shit. You want to get back into this?”

Two sighed. “No, I guess I don’t.”

“Good. So go. I’m going to call up the rest of the troops.”

Two opened her mouth to say something else, realized it wasn’t worth it, and stopped. She took Theroen’s hand and the two of them turned and ran down the hallway. She could hear Tori yelling out – in the vampire language, no less – to the few vampires who remained in the stairwell. After a moment more, new footsteps sounded out in the hall as they began to evacuate.

By the time Two and Theroen had reached the far end of the warehouse, the other vampires were charging into the room as well, moving at a full run. Two turned in time to see Tori coming through the door, holding the extension cord in her hand. She button-hooked around to the left, and stood for a moment by the power outlet she intended to use. She glanced over at Two and held her eyes for a moment. Two nodded.

Tori smiled, turned, and jammed the plug into the socket. There was the slightest pause, just a fraction of a second, and then the explosions came, three distinct blasts that shook the entire building. The broken door between the warehouse and the hallway was blown off its remaining hinge by a huge plume of flame; it flew the length of the room, nearly crushing a few Burilgi who happened to be standing in its path. The jet of flame reached halfway across the space, and the assembled vampires were pummeled by a heavy, hot shockwave full of shrapnel and debris. For a moment Two wondered if they were going to be incinerated, but the heat began to dissipate, the flames dying down and receding into the hall.

Two found herself looking for Tori, but the entire front of the room was filled with black smoke, and it was impossible to see whether the other woman had survived. Then a silhouette appeared, and in another moment Tori burst out from the smoke, coughing and stumbling toward them.

“Fire extinguishers!” she gasped, and pointed toward a yellow metal cabinet near one of the garage doors. “Get fire extinguishers! The hallway’s burning up!”

Chapter 25
Aftermath

Vanessa’s ears were ringing, and for what seemed a lengthy period of time, she was unable to do anything more than ponder just how inaccurate that turn of phrase was. The noise wasn’t anything like a ringing. It was a piercing, high-pitched shriek that seemed to drive through her skull and into her brain. The noise made it hard to think, and so she tried instead to focus on the other sensations her body was providing.

Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t feel quite ready to open them, but she could tell that she was lying face down on a hard surface. There was grit pressing against her cheek and her lungs were burning again, like they had in the days immediately following the attack on the cathedral.

As an experiment, she tried wiggling her toes. Those still worked, so she moved on to her fingers and felt them move as well. That pleased her; non-functioning digits were never a great sign. Now if she could only get the not-ringing-but-shrieking in her ears to stop.

She felt someone touch her back, and then words were making their way through the shrieking noise, muffled and indistinct, like a conversation half heard through thick glass. After a few moments more, the sounds began to come together.

“Captain, wake up!”

I’m not the Captain, Vanessa thought. You want the indestructible chick with the bad attitude.

Then she remembered that she was a captain now. She had been made one just before Charles had died. When had that been? She could remember the funeral service, but not whether it had been weeks ago, or months. Everything seemed very confused.

The voice spoke again, still urgent, and this time the words seemed to be coming from someplace much closer. “OK, Captain. I guess I’m dragging you.”

She felt someone rolling her over from belly to back and then felt hands under her armpits. The grit on the floor that had been pressing into her face now began to slip down the back of her pants, the sensation far from comfortable. It was this, as much as anything else, that finally forced Vanessa to open her eyes. They took a moment to focus, but then she saw that she was being hauled backward by a young man – he looked familiar – whose hair was twisted into wild, disheveled tangles. His face was covered in scorch marks.

“Don’t I know you?” she asked, or thought she asked, but the words must not have come out right because when the man looked down at her, it was with an expression of pure confusion.

“What, Captain?”

“I know you,” Vanessa tried again, this time a statement, because now she was sure. The pieces of her mind seemed to be slipping back into place in great chunks, now, and in a moment more she was able to summon his name up from the black depths of her memory.

“Jackson,” she said, and then, “Private, what the hell is going on? What are you doing?”

“I’m dragging you down the fucking hall to keep you from being swarmed by fucking vampires,” Jackson growled between gasps of exertion. “Ma’am.”

“What are you talking …” she began, and then she remembered all of it, the images coming to her so suddenly that they seemed almost to replace her vision. The barricades, yes; she had been preparing to toss the grenade and then lead the rush into the smoke when all of a sudden a tremendous ball of fire had come rolling toward them.

“Private, let me go. Let me go right now!”

Vanessa could feel her strength returning, and with it her sense of self. The otherworldly confusion was dissipating, taking with it the shrieking sound in her ears, and she was tired of feeling chunks of concrete trying to shove their way down the crack of her ass.

“They’re going to be here any minute!” Jackson said.

“Yes, and we’ll move a lot faster if we’re both on our fucking feet, so let me go. That’s an order, Private!”

“All right. Yes, ma’am,” Jackson said, and he took his hands away from her armpits. Vanessa raised her right arm and Jackson took her hand, hauling her to her feet. Once there, she swayed and fell sideways into him.

Jackson caught her as best he could, and Vanessa could feel his hand cupping her right breast. For a moment, she had an absurd flashback to the time in her fifteenth year when she and a fellow cadet had spent perhaps twenty furious, sweaty minutes together in a broom closet before being discovered by a Sergeant who’d made them run laps for the next three hours. She regained her balance laughing.

“Not the best time to cop a feel, Private,” she said.

“That is the single last thing on my mind right now,” Jackson told her, removing his hand.

Vanessa nodded. “How long was I out?”

“Not long,” Jackson said. “A big chunk of something must’ve hit you in the back of the head, because your whole neck and back are covered in blood. I crawled over to you once it seemed like the flames had died down.”

“Where are the bats?”

“Coming. Some guys from the Medic’s room can still fight. They pushed forward and engaged, but the barricade’s blown to shit and now all three elevators are open again. Bats are just pouring out of them. Our guys won’t hold the line long, and I had to get you out of there.”

Vanessa ran her hands over her face, trying to collect her thoughts. “Shit, I lost the grenade. I … what happened to the others?”

“Most of them are dead,” Jackson said, his expression grim. “A couple more might just be unconscious. Anyone who was still awake is fighting.”

“Did you see Carrie?”

“Ma’am, I don’t even know who that is.”

“God damn it.” Vanessa looked back toward the elevators, but the smoke was now much worse than before. She couldn’t see anything.

“Jackson, this is bad. We can’t hold this level, now, and they won’t be able to hold the staircase either. The bats are going to hit level two. I have to get down to the Emperor’s quarters.”

“What about the others?” Jackson asked.

“They’ll either fall back or get overrun. Trust me, they’ll figure that out on their own.”

“Captain, I don’t … what do I do?”

“Get to the Command Center before the bats do. We’ll be regrouping there and will need all hands to hold the fort. My job … listen I don’t have time to tell you why, but I have to get to the Emperor. I don’t have a choice.”

Vanessa heard someone scream not far away, the kind of sound that she knew meant another body had been added to the count. She hoped it was a vampire, feared it was one of her soldiers, and understood that she would never know the truth. She could hear running footsteps moving toward them. If they belonged to the enemy, Vanessa didn’t want to be caught out in the open. She clapped Jackson on the shoulder and said, “Time to fall back. Let’s go, Private.”

* * *

She parted ways with Jackson at the entrance to the Emperor’s quarters, a single, unassuming steel door that opened into a hallway unlike any other in their headquarters. Lined with exquisitely-worked teak and mahogany panels – themselves carved and split into intricate designs that reflected the Children’s Incan origins – it also boasted a stunning amount of inlay work, crafted from gold and turquoise and mother of pearl. Vanessa had no idea who had built the hallway – it was surely not anyone who still lived in the base – but it must have been a craftsman or craftsmen of substantial skill. She couldn’t imagine how long the project had taken, and found herself wondering what the Emperor’s chambers themselves might look like.

The floor was dark grey slate cut in massive slabs. The ceiling extended so far above her head, and above the chandeliers that hung at fifteen-foot intervals and bathed the hall in a soft, warm light, that she couldn’t see what it looked like. At the end of the hallway was a large, open area, and it was here that the men sent to guard the Emperor had congregated. There were six of them, including the lieutenant who Colonel Miller had ordered to lead the defense. He was visibly relieved at her arrival.

“What’s the situation, Captain?” he asked as Vanessa made her way toward them. “We heard … well, it sounded like explosions, but that can’t be—”

“It was explosions,” Vanessa said, cutting him off. “The bats blew the doors off the elevators and overran the first sublevel. Now I’m here to take command. That’s the situation.”

“Oh. D-did Colonel Miller send you here to reinforce the position?”

“No, I sent myself. HQ is swarming with bats, Lieutenant. The people in the CC can take care of themselves. I’m more worried about the Emperor. If the enemy gets this far, it’s our job to fill that fucking hallway up with bodies.”

“Uh … yes, ma’am.”

“We’re here until someone who outranks me says otherwise. I haven’t heard from Colonel Miller, but I’m absolutely sure this is what he’d want.”

“I’m not trying to question you, Captain,” the lieutenant said.

“Good. What’s your name?”

“Baker. I was … I came up a few years before you did.”

“Yeah. You used to call Carrie Brennan ‘Scarface’ behind her back.”

“I guess I did,” Baker admitted.

“Right,” Vanessa said. “Consider this your chance to get in my good graces, then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They lapsed into a silence that Vanessa imagined was not entirely comfortable for the rest of them. She didn’t know whether Baker and Carrie had ever spoken to each other outside of the requirements of their duties or not. Perhaps he, too, thought she had a snake tongue and whispered rumors about her with the other soldiers. Vanessa didn’t care; at the moment there were more important things to worry about.

It wasn’t long before their silence was disturbed. After less than fifteen minutes, Colonel Davis burst through the door with three majors and a crowd of soldiers following him. He stopped short when they came to the end of the hallway, head tilted, looking at Vanessa in surprise.

“Captain Harper?”

“That’s me, sir,” Vanessa said.

“Last I heard, you were on the first sublevel.”

“We couldn’t hold the position after they blew up the elevators, sir. Too many of them. I decided that it would be best if I came down here to another bottleneck to try and protect the Emperor, rather than being swarmed and killed.”

Davis considered this and nodded. “Sound decision. Listen, Captain, they’re evacuating the CC. There’re too many bats and they’ve done too much damage to the facility. Miller’s refused to go – I guess he’ll hold it to the death – but Palowski’s already left with his people. I’m going to take the Emperor through his personal tunnel. We’ve made sure the bats won’t be able to get to our data or stop the explosion before the place goes up.”

So there it was: they were retreating, and the Emperor did indeed have his own route to the surface.

“What are your orders, sir?” she asked, and Davis shook his head.

“You can come with us or you can stay,” he told her. “I’m not giving orders on this one. There’s a group of them not far behind us. If you stay, you might buy the Emperor time. If you come with us, you have a much better shot at surviving the night. It’s your call, Vanessa.”

She had never been addressed by her first name by any of the three colonels, and for a moment she wasn’t sure how to respond. She understood that this was Davis’s concession to her status with the Emperor – the fact that she was the presumptive heir to the position Charles had held. If she had been just an ordinary captain, he would have made the decision himself.

Her first instinct was to join them. Vanessa did not want to die, and the thought of retreating to their facility in Colorado and regrouping there was appealing. They could work on a new plan of attack, a way to get back at the vampires for this latest affront. At the very least, she would have time to come to terms with the knowledge that had been forced upon her.

She thought of the things that Charles had told her that she had shoved to the back of her mind for these past few weeks, trying as best she could not to dwell on them. Now, she had no choice. She didn’t want to face the Emperor, not yet, not with the things she knew. They were her burden alone; no other soul in the building knew what she knew, but if they had, they would have understood her reticence. If she stayed, there was a chance she could take care of the approaching group of vampires, retreating afterward and avoiding direct contact with the Emperor.

“I need a decision, Captain,” Davis told her, and Vanessa took a deep breath.

“I’m staying,” she said. “I’m staying to give you as much time as possible, but please … any of these men, if they want to go, please take them. It’s not fair to make that choice for them. They can go with you and regroup in Colorado. Is that acceptable?”

“I’m not sure it would make much sense to leave you in this hallway alone, Captain,” Davis said.

Three of the privates serving under Lieutenant Baker told the colonel that they would stay, and after a moment Baker himself spoke up.

“I’ll stay too, sir.”

Vanessa glanced over at him. “If you’re doing that to make up for Sergeant Brennan, you don’t have to. I’m not that bent out of shape about it.”

Baker shook his head. “I’m doing it because I want the Emperor to stay safe. Can’t take back the things I said about your friend, Captain.”

“No, I guess you can’t. All right, Lieutenant Baker, I’m glad to have you with me. Colonel, I think the five of us can hold this hallway and give you some extra time, but I wouldn’t complain if you moved quickly.”

Davis frowned for a moment and said, “If he sends me back for you …”

“Then I’ll come. You know that, sir.”

“Very good, Captain Harper. Give us fifteen minutes, then fall back into the Emperor’s chambers and take the right-most door. Lock them off if you can, but if it comes down to it, save your own skin. Rendezvous in Colorado. We’ll be watching for you.”

“Yes, sir,” Vanessa said, and she was amused by the confidence in her voice. She hoped it sounding convincing, because in truth she had no idea if she could hold the bats off for fifteen minutes or not. She intended on doing her best, and hoped it would be good enough.

The Emperor’s interior chambers were blocked by a massive set of mahogany doors, carved and inlaid like the walls. There was a small keypad on one, and Davis typed a lengthy sequence into it. He was rewarded with a beeping sound, and Vanessa heard some heavy mechanism within the door moving, unlocking it. She wondered if the other soldiers thought that this was for the Emperor’s protection.

The doors swung open on well-oiled hinges, barely making a sound as they moved. Inside, the lights were dim almost to the point of darkness. Vanessa could make out what looked like the receiving area of a well-appointed luxury suite at a five-star hotel. There were tasteful pieces of furniture – two chairs and a roll-top desk, a small table with a lamp on it – and several pieces of artwork in large, gilded frames. After years of sleeping in bunks with her fellow soldiers, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy.

She had the impression that she was looking upon something much older than the rest of the compound, as if the Emperor’s chambers had been there before the base had been constructed. This seemed impossible, and she guessed that they had been painstakingly disassembled at some other location and put back together here.

The colonel pointed to his men, ordering them to split into two groups. When they had done so, he had them move in through the door and line either side of the room, weapons ready. Then he turned to Vanessa.

“Good luck, Captain,” he said to her, and Vanessa nodded, giving him a brief salute.

“Same to you, Colonel.”

Then he stepped inside and swung the doors closed again. She did not hear the lock re-latch. The only people left with her were Baker and the three privates she didn’t know.

“Hell of a night,” she muttered, and beside her she heard Baker give a short laugh.

“It’s about to get worse,” he said, and pointed. At the far end of the hall, she could see figures approaching.

Chapter 26
The Captain and the Captain

“Come on, come on, get those fuckin’ fires out!” Two shouted, leading the charge to the hallway, extinguisher in hand. Behind her she could hear Sasha and Lewis shouting as well, directing their troops. The yellow cabinet had contained at least a dozen extinguishers, all neatly lined up, ready to be taken on hunting excursions by the Children soldiers. Now they were being wielded by the very vampires that those soldiers had been taught to hunt.

Two ran past the first few fires, not wanting to create a traffic jam, and when she felt she was far enough into the hallway, she stopped, turned, and aimed the nozzle of her extinguisher at the patch of flame. She pulled the red pin away from its firing mechanism, clutched the trigger, and a great jet of white, snow-like spray blasted out from its nozzle.

Two had no idea what sort of chemicals were in the tank, but they seemed to be doing their job. The flames died away and she moved on to another spot. She could see other vampires around her doing the same, and within a relatively short span of time – it seemed amazing to her, given the size of the fireball that had rocketed up the hallway – they had things under control. Theroen came up beside her and touched her shoulder.

“Your hair is full of ashes,” he said, smiling as she glanced over at him. A fine grey coat of ash had settled atop his hair as well.

“Yeah?” she asked. “You think it’s going to mess with my conditioning routine?”

His smile widened to a grin. “It looks a bit like duckling fuzz.”

“Oh, shit, am I adorable? You know how I feel about being adorable …”

“Can we cut the lovey-dovey banter?” Tori asked, walking up behind them, and Two glanced over at her.

“But I’m so good at it …”

Tori glared at her, then shouldered her way past them and down toward the end of the hallway. The three elevator shafts had been blown wide open. The stairwell was still technically accessible, though any vampires wishing to use it would have to clamber over a pile of rubble before descending to the first sublevel.

“We don’t have much time,” Tori shouted back at them. “They’ll regroup soon. Tell your friends to get their shit together.”

Two turned to Theroen. “My favorite thing about her is how pleasant she is.”

Nonetheless, she made her way back down the hallway and out into the warehouse. Sasha and Lewis were there, reorganizing the ranks, forming small groups of four or five Burilgi centered around a single Ay’Araf commander. Lewis’s people seemed willing to follow orders, understanding that the Ay’Araf vampires had considerably more training and that such tactics would result in fewer deaths.

“Tori thinks they’re going to regroup fast,” Two said as she reached Sasha, and the Ay’Araf woman nodded.

“They’re soldiers,” she said. “The people in charge won’t let them run about like headless chickens. We need to press the attack now.”

“Well, the elevator shafts are open. You guys can pretty much flood the first sublevel.”

“Good. As soon as that level falls, we’ll focus on the Command Center.”

“Sounds good. I think Theroen and I are going to go with Tori.”

“She intends on going after the Emperor himself, does she not?”

“That’s the plan, yeah.”

Sasha pursed her lips, considered, and nodded. “Nothing she does will ever make up for Jakob, but if she manages to kill him,it will at least be a large step in the right direction. Go now, Two, and tell her that we will send our troops first. Once they have engaged and distracted the enemy, you should be clear to move forward. Go with her and burn this problem out at its roots. Kill the Emperor before he escapes.”

“All right,” Two said, and she had half turned to go before she stopped herself and turned back. Sasha looked at her, surprised, waiting for Two to explain herself.

“Sasha … thank you,” Two said. “You could have fought her, but you didn’t. I don’t understand why you didn’t, but I’m glad.”

Sasha considered this, placing her fingers together tip-to-tip and staring at them before curling both sets into fists. These she held for a moment before releasing them and letting her hands fall to her sides. She looked up at Two, opened her mouth as if to explain, and then shut it again. At last she shook her head and spoke.

“For all the terrible things that have come in your wake, I have never once doubted that you would have sent them all away if you could,” she said. “You are a good person, Two Majors, and that matters. It matters that you came back for Molly when you could have left her to rot, and it matters that you came back for Jakob and me in the cathedral when you could have escaped with Theroen and Naomi. It matters that you have come back for this woman, even now, and that you believe she can be redeemed. I do not trust her, but I trust you. You have earned that much from me.”

“That means a lot to me,” Two told her.

Sasha gave her a rare smile. “Good. Now go help her kill the Emperor and ensure that I will be glad I didn’t stab her to death when I had the chance.”

“You guys go first. We’ll stay out of the way until your people go through.”

“I will see you at the rendezvous point when this is done,” Sasha said. They had worked this out in advance; the council members would meet in a secluded location to determine what next steps were required, if any. Arrangements had been made to disperse the remaining vampires back through various local and regional airports in order to avoid arousing the suspicion of local law enforcement.

“We’ll be there. Me and Theroen both. Count on it … and stay safe.”

“You, too,” Sasha said, and without another word she moved forward, calling out commands to those she had put in charge, readying the attack. Two turned and headed back in the direction of the hallway to share the plan with Theroen and Tori.

She found them standing at the edge of the warehouse in silence. Two supposed with another pair this might have been awkward, but Theroen’s ethereal calm seemed to work well with Tori’s barely-contained emotions. She didn’t want to chit-chat and he, unlike most people, had never felt the need. Two thought back to the first night she had met him, when he had taken her to the Italian restaurant in Brooklyn. They had spent half the evening in silence and yet she had never felt more comfortable with anyone in her entire life.

“That’s an interesting expression,” Theroen said, tilting his head a little. Two could feel the edges of his mind touching hers, not prying but there to accept anything she might want to share. She let the thoughts and images of that first night – it had quickly become a date even though he had paid for her company – flood her mind, and he grinned.

“Why ever were you thinking of that?” he asked her, and Two shrugged.

“I just was.”

“How interesting.”

Tori rolled her eyes. “What’s the plan?”

“It’s pretty simple,” Two told her. “We get out of the way, Sasha and Lewis send in their people, and while they’re taking the first sublevel and assaulting the Command Center, we go after the Emperor. Just you, me, and Theroen. That’s how you want it, right?”

“Frankly, I’d prefer to go alone,” Tori said. “But I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m not getting rid of the two of you.”

“Perhaps you could even consider valuing our company at some point,” Theroen said, his voice dry.

Tori glanced over at him. “Two weeks ago, I’d have killed you on sight. I think we’re making progress.”

“Where’s Thomas?” Two asked, wanting to change the subject. Tori indicated to her left with a tilt of her head and Two turned to look in that direction. Thomas was sitting on the floor again, knees up against his chest, head down. She wondered if she should interrupt him, or simply leave him here to choose his own path.

Vampires were rushing by them now, charging the elevator shafts and throwing themselves onto the first floor. Two could hear bursts of fire from automatic weapons, screams of agony, and the general roar of combat. Something in her mouth tasted bitter and medicinal, like biting into a handful of soft, wet cloves. She shook her head, both in grief that the situation had come to this and in rejection of the melancholy that wanted to overwhelm her. There was no time.

“I hate this,” she told her companions. “I hate all of it, so let’s go finish it. Let’s make sure that tonight’s the last night and whoever’s left tomorrow can celebrate that it’s over. Let’s burn the fucking roots out from under the Children and make sure they can’t ever come back to haunt us. Let’s go find the Emperor.”

* * *

The first sublevel smelled like death. There was gunpowder, acrid smoke, and ash from the explosives. There was blood, a scent Two knew well, and also the unpleasant tang of sweat, and bile, and other fluids of the body. Each of these she could pick out individually, but the combined whole was something she had never before experienced and hoped never to know again. The whole was greater than the sum of its parts, a stench that made her want to weep and retch and turn away.

“Dear Lord,” Theroen muttered as they made their way through the central hallway. Around them they could hear the sounds of battle: gunfire, the clash of metal on metal in up-close combat, and the screams of the dying. Tori was leading them, with Theroen next in line. Two was behind him and Thomas was bringing up the rear. He spoke now, his voice taut with emotion.

“Told you it was going to be like this.”

“I’m pretty sure you guys forfeited any chance at playing martyr sometime around the point where you blew up our cathedral,” Two said. “You want me to feel bad for these people? Well, mission accomplished, because I do – I wish they weren’t dead. I wish we weren’t here. I wish none of this shit had ever happened, but you weren’t in that fucking church, Thomas. You never had to smell your friends burning.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” Thomas said, and Two found herself bristling at the self-righteous tone in his voice. She stopped in her tracks and whirled on him.

“The fuck you didn’t!” she shouted, jabbing a finger at him. “You knew. You knew for years that we weren’t what they said we were. You knew and you didn’t do a fucking thing.”

“There was nothing I could have done!” Thomas shouted.

“Bullshit! You could have left. If nothing else, you could have left, but you didn’t. You just hung out and made your drinks and filed your reports, and it was only when they finally asked you to get your hands dirty that you decided you’d had enough. You wanna be sad and angry that your friends are getting killed? Fine, but if you’re going to start laying blame, then point that finger at your fucking self first.”

Thomas was silent, glaring at her, and Two forced herself to cut off all of the hateful, hurtful things she might have said next. She turned away from him but then swung back, unable to withhold one final outburst.

“We didn’t want this,” she snarled. “We never wanted this, and we never asked for this. We would have gone on for the rest of eternity letting you guys just take out the occasional rogue vampire that hurt humans. You’re the ones who made it bigger than that. You’re the ones who attacked us, not the other way around. Next time you have some fucking holier-than-thou comment on your lips, you think about that for a while.”

“Two …” Theroen put his hand on her shoulder and she whirled again, away from Thomas but refusing to look her lover in the eye.

“I’m done,” she growled. “I know, keep calm, stay rational … that’s how you roll, right Theroen?”

“If I wanted to be with someone who ‘rolled’ in the manner that I do,” Theroen said, “you would have been the very last person I chose.”

“Fucking right,” Two said, but now she glanced up at him and saw that he was smiling.

“The point I was trying to make is that everyone here has been through terrible experiences in the recent past. It might behoove all of us to tread carefully with each other. Thomas is a friend.”

“Is he?” Two asked, and she swung back around to Thomas. “Are you?”

“I don’t know what the fuck I am,” Thomas said. “For the past few years I was the best bartender at one of Manhattan’s best clubs. I was also an undercover agent spying on an important member of an enemy council. Now? At worst I’m a traitor and a disgrace to my people. At best I’m just some asshole.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Two said. “But it’s a shitty one. You’re not just some asshole and you’re only a disgrace if you actually believe the Emperor’s bullshit, which you obviously don’t.”

“The only thing I believe right now is that if the Emperor’s still alive come the morning, I’m a dead man,” Thomas said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Fine,” Two said. “I’ll stop preaching if you’ll stop complaining about these people getting what they deserve. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Good. Let’s just do this.”

They continued down the hallway in silence, Tori leading the group. In front of them, packs of Burilgi lead by Ay’Araf warriors were wreaking havoc on the Children’s forces, the combat occasionally spilling out into the hallway from the rooms on either side. Eventually they reached the staircase at the far end of the hall.

“They will have broken through to the second sublevel on the other end, by now,” Theroen commented, and Tori nodded.

“Yeah. Hopefully they’re giving the Command Center all they can handle. That will keep the colonels busy for a while, at least until they realize it’s hopeless and retreat. I can get us to the Emperor’s chambers. After that … I’ve never been inside and I don’t know what to expect. I imagine there will be reinforcements.”

“You don’t sound real concerned,” Two said, and Tori flashed her a bloodthirsty grin but opted to give no other response.

“What if he has already been evacuated?” Theroen asked, and Tori shook her head.

“I don’t think he’ll go. Not without … no, he won’t. Trust me.”

“He won’t go without his weapon,” Thomas said. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it, Captain? He won’t go without you.”

“I’m the key,” she replied. “Everything he’s spent his entire life building toward is in his grasp, but only if he’s got me. It’s not just the fighting – but that’s a big part of it. I can go to the places he can’t go, do the things he can’t do. I’m not just his weapon, I’m his Right Hand. He needs me and he needs your sister.”

“The fuck does my sister have to do with anything?” Thomas asked, and Tori gave a small laugh. She began to descend the staircase, but spoke as she went.

“You don’t get much gossip down in Cellblock, huh?”

“Vanessa came to tell me when Charles passed, but other than that, no … not so much.”

“Right. So you know the Emperor needs a new Left Hand. You wanna take a guess who Charles nominated?”

“No shit?” Thomas asked.

“No shit. The Emperor needs someone who is very, very good, but still young enough to make his own.”

“And Charles decided on Vanessa?”

Tori shook her head. They had reached the second sublevel, and she peered through the window in the door before turning and answering Thomas’s question.

“Vanessa decided it for him. It’s a brilliant choice. She’s the best we – they – have.”

“Except you,” Two said, and Tori gave a small laugh, pushing her way through the door. The others followed.

“I’m the best they had at killing vampires, that’s all. I don’t have her breadth of talents and I don’t have her way with others. People are scared of me … they respect her. There are galaxies of distance between those two things.”

“So you think this man, Charles, made the right choice?” Theroen asked.

“I have no idea,” Tori said. “He made the best choice, but that doesn’t mean it was the right one. Now we’ll never know.”

“Why’s that?” Thomas asked, and Tori favored him with a glance that was almost sympathetic.

“Because we haven’t seen her yet, which means she’s down here somewhere. I’m guessing she’s going to come between me and the Emperor, and when that happens I’m probably going to have to cut her down to get to him.”

“This decision is getting worse by the minute,” Thomas muttered.

“Vanessa’s one of the few people in the world I respect,” Tori told him. “She’s a good soldier, and when I first heard that Charles had chosen her, I wasn’t surprised. I was impressed by his judgment. I won’t kill her unless I have to.”

“You’ll probably have to,” Thomas said. They had come to a stop in front of an ordinary-looking metal door, having met no resistance as they’d moved along the hallway. Whatever fighting was happening, it wasn’t happening here. Tori turned and glanced back at him.

“Yeah,” she said. “I know.”

* * *

“If you and your people take another step forward, Captain Perrault, we’re going to have to open fire.”

The woman at the end of the hall was standing at the center of her soldiers in front of a massive pair of wooden doors. Two recognized her from the cathedral and, now that she and her brother were in the same room, could see the family resemblance.

“Vanessa,” Tori said, coming to a stop and indicating to the others to do the same. “Why the hostility?”

Vanessa looked unimpressed. “Even if I had somehow forgotten that those two are vampires who we were supposed to kill at the cathedral, it’d be pretty tough to miss that you’re hanging around with my traitor brother, who’s supposed to be rotting in jail right now. Let me ask you a question, Tori … did you help them hack our systems? Or did you sign up after that?”

“I didn’t help them,” Tori said. “I just figured out what they’d done as soon as I heard you captured these two. No way they could have gotten that deep if the cameras were working right, and frankly your security people should have figured that out hours ago.”

“Well, they didn’t. I guess when this is done, I’ll have a little chat with them – if any are left.”

“This won’t be done until the Emperor is dead,” Tori said.

“Why would you want to go and kill the man who gave you everything?” Vanessa asked, and there was a note of legitimate curiosity in her voice.

“Because he’s the real traitor here, to his people and his ideals.”

“‘His people,’ huh? Curious what you mean about that.”

“Humanity, Vanessa. When the chips came down, the Emperor sacrificed innocent human beings to get at me. Then he took me in, filled me with drugs, and taught me to hate vampires. He taught me to kill for him, and now he has to die for it. That’s the way it has to be.”

“There’s so much you don’t know,” Vanessa said, and she shook her head. “It’s almost sad. You have no idea.”

“I know enough.”

“You don’t know anything! You think you’ve got it all figured out, but you’re just stumbling around in the dark.”

“He murdered my parents!” Tori shouted. “He took them from me!”

“You didn’t even want them!” Vanessa cried. “You couldn’t even bear spending time with them anymore. All you wanted to do was go out and get drunk and whore around. My parents were killed too, you know, when I was just a kid. And my sister. Thomas and I lost everything! You think I’m supposed to feel sorry for you because you lost some people you didn’t even give a fuck about?”

For a moment there was silence. Tori stared at the woman in frank disbelief before finally speaking in a strange, low voice, the words coming out shaky and loaded with barely contained emotion. “How long have you known?”

“What difference does it make?” Vanessa asked. “What if I knew all along? What are you going to do, kill me harder?”

“Just tell me when you found out!” Tori was screaming now, out of control, and Two wondered how much longer it would be before she simply launched herself at the soldiers, guns or no. If it came to that, Two was unsure who would prevail.

Vanessa took a long, deep breath and shrugged. “Four weeks, Captain. I found out about it when I found out about everything else, when Charles told me what I was going to become. The only thing I’d ever heard before that was the same shit they told you, that the vampire council did it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What are we, best friends?” Vanessa asked. “Captain, in the last month I lost half my squad, found out I was going to be elected the Emperor’s new Left Hand, and got about six thousand pounds of information I never wanted dumped on my head by a dying man. Then I lost him before I could ask him even a tenth of the questions I had. You think I was in the best place to make decisions? It’s amazing I didn’t throw myself off the fucking roof.

“I haven’t said shit to anyone – about anything – for weeks, because I’ve been too busy trying to come to terms with everything that Charles told me. Maybe I would’ve found you eventually and told you the truth about your parents, but honestly it wasn’t that important to me. Turns out the Emperor and the Children have done plenty of terrible shit to get where they are now. Your parents are just a blip on the radar.”

“But you stayed with them anyway,” Tori said, and though her voice had returned to a normal level, Two could still hear deadly anger in it. “You’re standing here defending him even now.”

“They’ve given me everything I ever had. I have friends here, people I care about, a job, and a mission. You think it’s easy to walk away from all of that just because I found out that the Emperor’s not quite as nice a guy as we’ve always been told he was?”

“He’s a murderer,” Two said, stepping up beside Tori.

“So is that crazy bitch,” Vanessa snapped back, and then swung the muzzle of her gun around to point at Two. “And so are you. How much blood is on your hands, lady?”

“Too much,” Two admitted. “That’s why we’re here. That’s why we have to stop him.”

“I can’t just step out of the way and let you go kill the Emperor,” Vanessa said. “Murderer or not, I promised Charles I would protect him. I have to stand between you and him.”

“Then we should get this over with,” Tori said.

“Why not just turn around and go? Take my brother and your two bat friends and get out of here. Why is it so important to kill the Emperor? It won’t bring your parents back and it can’t possibly atone for everything you’ve done to the vampires. They’ll never accept you.”

“No, it can’t do any of that,” Tori said. “But I won’t live the rest of my life with the specter of him over my shoulder. He won’t ever let me go, Vanessa. It will never end until one of us is dead, and I mean to make that happen tonight.”

Vanessa sighed. “All right. I’m sorry it had to come to this, Captain, but I’m glad if it had to happen, it’s happening right here.”

“What’s that?” Tori asked.

“Because you’ve got nowhere to go,” Vanessa said, and with those words she raised her assault rifle and pulled the trigger.

She was wrong; Tori had plenty of space, Two realized; it just lay in a direction that no one had considered. Even as Vanessa was pulling the trigger, Tori leapt not just forward but upward as well, springing toward the nearest chandelier, which hung nearly fifteen feet above their heads. She caught it with both hands and whipped her body forward, swinging on it and throwing herself at the group of Children soldiers from above.

Meanwhile, Two and the others were throwing themselves on the floor to avoid the hail of bullets. Two landed hard on her stomach and chest, arms outstretched before her, holding tight to her pistol to keep from losing her grip on it. There was very little cover in the hallway, but she rolled to the right side, where she was at least semiprotected by a wooden half pillar bulging out of the wall. One of the soldiers saw her and turned in her direction to fire, but Two was faster. She leveled her gun at the man and put two bullets into his chest.

Tori landed behind Vanessa, spun, and grabbed the woman by the shoulders. She threw Vanessa into the soldier standing to her left and both fell to the floor in a heap, dropping their guns. Tori kicked the firearms down the hallway. She then turned and leapt toward the two soldiers still on their feet, pulling her blades out at the same time. One of the men managed to get a shot off with his rifle and the bullet grazed Tori’s left bicep. She dropped the sword she’d been holding with that hand, snarling in pain and swinging around with her right arm. The sword she was still carrying carved off a chunk of the man’s shoulder and he howled, dropping his assault rifle.

Vanessa and the soldier she had collided with were struggling now to their feet. Two leveled her gun at the male soldier and would have shot him, but before she could, Theroen threw himself forward into her line of sight. She watched as he bowled into the two humans shoulder-first like a linebacker, splitting them apart and sending both back to the ground. The last of the soldiers, the one who wasn’t engaged with Tori, took a shot at him, but it was wild and Theroen dove behind a pillar that stood next to the massive doors.

Her sight still blocked, now by Tori, Two couldn’t fire on the man and instead hauled herself to her feet, holstering her gun and drawing her sword. She raced forward before the man could turn and target her, and with a shout she drove her blade into his side. He cried out and swung his gun around butt-first, and it collided with the side of her head, sending bright red flashes through her vision. Two stumbled back a step, dropping to one knee and touching her hand to her temple. When she brought it back before her eyes, it was covered in blood.

The soldier who had hit her was screaming and clawing at the sword, which was still embedded in his side. He had dropped his gun and was trying to pull the weapon out by the blade, but was succeeding only in slicing up his own hands. Two stood and grabbed the handle, kicking out with her foot and connecting with the soldier’s midsection. The force of the kick was enough to dislodge the sword, and the soldier shrieked again as the blade came sliding out.

“Sorry,” Two told him, and she was. She didn’t want any of this, but it was far too late to back off now.

For his part, the soldier didn’t seem impressed with her apology. “Fuck you, bat!” he swore, and he wrapped his hands around her neck.

Holding her sword with both hands, Two brought it up and forward, spearing the man in the solar plexus and driving the weapon deep inside of him. Its tip pierced through his back and in another moment his eyes rolled up, his hands went limp, and she shoved him backward.

“All right, then,” Two said, her voice a little hoarse. She turned to see that Tori had dispatched the man who had shot her in the arm by cutting most of the top half of his head off. His body was lying on the floor, still twitching, and she had moved on to the two soldiers who Theroen had collided with. Vanessa and the other man pressed their backs against the doors and held their swords out.

“Vanessa …” Tori began, but before she could continue, the male soldier threw himself at her, roaring something incoherent and swinging his blade downward with both hands.

“Baker, don’t!” Vanessa shouted, but it was too late. He and Tori were fighting now, their blades clashing together. Vanessa leapt forward – whether to help her soldier or try to pull him back, Two didn’t know. Theroen never gave her the chance to find out, taking advantage of the woman’s distraction to grab her from behind, gripping her shoulder with one hand and palming her head like a basketball with the other.

“I apologize for this,” he said in his customary, calm tone, and then, with a powerful twitch of his shoulders, he drove her face first into the wood-paneled wall. There was a cracking noise that Two hoped was the mahogany and not Vanessa’s skull, and when Theroen let her go, she dropped to the floor, dead or out cold.

The man who Vanessa had called Baker was still alive, which Two thought was something of a miracle. He had managed to avoid one or two killing blows from Tori, and now he parried another. He was clearly very strong and well conditioned, but Two could tell from his breathing that he was starting to tire. She thought it would be only a few more seconds before Tori finished him off.

In this estimate, she proved correct. Using an amazingly agile fake, Tori changed direction at the last moment and, with a flick of her wrist, slashed across the man’s unguarded chest. He screamed in pain and, when he clutched at the wound with his free hand and looked down, she took the opportunity to drive her sword upward, pommel-side first, and hit him under the chin with it. The man’s eyes rolled up, and as he fell she cut off his head.

For a moment there was silence. Tori walked over to the blade she had dropped, picked it up, and sheathed both weapons. She turned to look at Two and Theroen.

“Is she still alive?” Tori asked, indicating toward Vanessa’s prone figure. Theroen knelt down beside the woman, checked her pulse, and nodded.

“Good,” Tori said. “I really didn’t want to kill her.”

“How’s your arm?” Two asked, and Tori glanced at her wound, unconcerned.

“Hurts, but it was a clean shot. It’ll heal in a day or two.”

Thomas had spent the fight lying on the floor, but now came up to stand beside them, looking at his sister.

“I know you guys didn’t have to do that,” he said. “Theroen, you could just as easily have snapped her neck, but you didn’t. So thanks.”

Theroen nodded. “I take no joy in killing and I could sense … this woman guards her thoughts well, but right now she is very conflicted. She didn’t want this fight, and her heart wasn’t in it.”

“What do we do with her now?” Two asked.

“We forget her,” Tori said. “After the Emperor’s dead, we can come back. Until then, nothing else matters.”

With those words she strode forth, pulled open the doors to the Emperor’s inner chamber, and stepped inside.

* * *

“Swanky,” Two said, and beside her Thomas laughed.

“Guy calls himself The Emperor of the Sun, right? Doubt he’s gonna shop at IKEA.”

“Good point. You think he’s still here?”

Theroen and Tori spoke simultaneously, the doubling of their voices so uncanny it was almost comedic. “He’s here.”

They glanced at each other and Tori raised an eyebrow. “You can feel him, huh?”

“Yes,” Theroen said. “At least, I sense something. It is not like anything I have ever felt before. Can you feel it?”

Tori shook her head. “No, I just know he’s here.”

“Then you better find him fast, Captain,” Thomas said. “I don’t think we’ve got too much time ‘til this place goes boom.”

Tori glanced at her watch and nodded. “An hour, tops. Thirty minutes if we want to be safe.”

There were four doors leading from the receiving area, not counting the massive set that opened back onto the entrance hallway. Tori stood in the center of the room, looking around.

“I’ve never been here or even seen plans,” she said. “I don’t know where to go.”

Theroen pointed to the right-most door and said, “Begin with that one.”

“Why?” Tori asked.

“Whatever I am feeling, it seems strongest from that direction,” Theroen told her, and that seemed good enough for Tori. She tried the door’s handle. It moved easily, making only the slightest clicking sound, and the door swung ajar. Two could see some kind of large room beyond it, filled with pillars and lit no better than the room in which they currently stood. Even her eyes could not make out the far end of it.

“This is a big damn place,” she muttered, and beside her Thomas laughed again.

Tori took a step into the room and then, after a pause, a second step. She glanced back at them and shrugged, turning to walk further. That was when Theroen started shouting and everything went to hell.

“Tori, there is something … look out!” he cried, but the warning came too late, and Tori was only beginning to turn when a large figure – making amazingly little noise for the speed at which it was moving – came from out of the shadows to her left. It hit Tori with enough force that they both went flying out of Two’s line of sight, and after a moment she heard chilling thudding noises, like someone swinging a croquet mallet over and over into a hanging side of beef.

“Jesus Christ!” she shouted, shoving forward past Theroen and into the darkened room. She could hear Theroen and Thomas moving right behind her. A voice shouted something from the right side of the room, but Two was too focused on Tori – who she could now see was pinned underneath a hulk of a man – to make out the words. She was reaching to grab the shoulder of the man who was pounding his fists down upon Tori when there came from behind her an unimpressive popping noise, and something that felt like a white-hot sledgehammer slammed into her side.

The impact spun her around in a half circle, and before she tripped over her own feet and fell backward, Two was able to see quite clearly the man who had shot her, still holding the smoking rifle. As she began her fall, she saw Theroen turn toward this man and, with one snarling leap, cover the distance between them. He raked out with his fingernails and with this blow removed most of the soldier’s neck. Two saw the man’s head loll forward like that of a marionette with a broken string, and then he was out of her field of vision. In a moment more, her head hit the stone floor and her vision filled for a while with dancing sparks of gold and white.

When time returned to Two, it brought with it severe disorientation. Someone was shouting from what seemed a long distance away. Closer to her, she could hear grunts and animalistic snarls. She tried to sit up and cried out in agony as a bolt of pain tore through her midsection. Lying on her back and taking quick, shallow breaths, she became aware that the distant-sounding shouts were now much closer. Theroen was calling her name, a terrible urgency in his voice.

“Help Tori!” she tried to shout, but the effort involved caused pain to lance through her side once again, and the words came out as a croak. Theroen fell to his knees as he reached her side, and when he put his hands on her, she had to clench her teeth to keep from screaming again.

“You’re going to be fine, Two,” Theroen said, his expression doing very little to back up his words.

“I’m good. I’m all good,” Two said, her voice hoarse, and she coughed once. She was unable to contain her cry this time as once again it seemed something stabbed into her side.

“My love—”

“Help Tori. Theroen, look at me. Help Tori!”

Theroen glanced up, and his expression moved from one of deep concern to one of shock so extreme it was almost comical.

“I … do not believe she needs any help,” he said, and in the next moment it became apparent why; Tori had regained her feet and was driving her adversary back and into Two’s line of sight, attacking with all the ferocity of a wounded and cornered animal. The snarling noises Two had heard were coming from her, and she was using what looked like a combination of martial arts and raw strength to batter her opponent into submission.

“Is that your best, Manuel?” she screamed as he stumbled. “I’m going to eat your heart, do you hear me? I’m going to punch through your chest and eat your fucking heart!”

She leapt forward again, and when the man raised his arms to ward off the incoming blow she instead dipped low and spun, kicking out with one foot and knocking the legs out from underneath him. Even as he began to fall, she lunged up and forward, hitting him in the side with her knee. There was a cracking noise as the man’s ribs broke, and he bellowed in pain. Tori threw him to the floor and stepped on his neck.

“Look at you,” she snarled. “The Emperor’s personal guard and … who was that, Major Bishop? Good thing he stuck around. He almost managed to take out one of us before getting himself killed.”

“Betrayer!” Manuel choked out. “How dare you come here and—”

“Fuck you,” Tori said, and now her voice had grown icy cold. “Were you there with them, Manuel? I bet you were. They don’t mention you in the emails, but no one ever mentions you, do they? You’re just there. Did you hold one of my parents down while they did it? Did you?!”

“I do whatever my Emperor commands!”

Tori stared at him for a long moment, her eyes pulled tight in disgusted slits. At last she said, “Not anymore you don’t,” and she stomped down with her leg. There was a sound like a bundle of small twigs being broken over someone’s knee, and Manuel made a strangled grunt.

Two could see his eyes as they went distant. She tried to think of all of this as necessary, but she wanted so badly for it to be over. She wanted to go home and lie down – the idea of sleeping seemed very appealing to her right now.

“Theroen, buddy, your girl ain’t looking so hot,” Thomas said from somewhere behind Two, and Theroen turned back to her with concern.

“Hey, baby,” Two murmured, her eyes half lidded.

“Two, stay with us,” he said, and with an expression of sorrow he shook her slightly. Two shouted as pain lanced through her again, but she could feel herself come fully back to consciousness.

Tori spun around and stalked over, kneeling next to Theroen.

“Did it occur to either of you to put anything on the wound? Oh, for … get out of the way. Thomas, go get Manuel’s shirt. It’s huge. Cut it off him.”

She handed Thomas one of her blades and he headed in the direction of Manuel’s corpse. Tori looked back down at Two.

“I’m fucked up pretty good, huh?” Two asked, and Tori nodded.

“Yes, but you’re also lucky. If he’d been using incendiary rounds, the bullet would’ve exploded somewhere inside your small intestine, lit most of your abdominal cavity on fire, and you’d probably already be dead.”

“Hey, thanks for the pep talk,” Two wheezed, and she caught Tori stifling a slight grin.

“The good news is that the bullet came all the way through, so we don’t have to go digging for it. Now shut up and save your strength.”

Thomas returned with the tattered shirt and Tori took the bulk of it, folded it up into a compress, and handed it to Theroen. “Press that against the wound.”

“Is that going to hurt?” Two asked.

“Yes,” Tori said, and without further hesitation she grabbed Theroen’s hands and forced them down against Two’s abdomen.

“OH, JESUS FUCK!” Two screamed, involuntarily arching her back and clawing at the floor. She could feel the stone tiles grinding against her fingernails, a sensation that, in another time and place, would have sent chills rolling down her spine. Now, she found herself focusing on it, savoring it. Anything to help take her mind off the pain.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Tori said. “Theroen, keep pressure on it.”

She tore a long strip from what remained of the shirt and folded the rest of it into another compress.

“OK,” she said, “I need to lift her up and get this under her.”

“Oh, God, wait. Don’t—oh you fucking bitch!”

“Thomas, get her hands off me. Get them … thank you.”

“Is all this strictly necessary?” Theroen asked, his voice tight.

“Not strictly,” Tori said as she shoved the second compress under Two and began to loop the strip of fabric around Two’s midsection. “I could let her bleed out while I go after the Emperor. If you want her to live, it’s necessary. Now grab this.”

She handed him one side of the long fabric strip, snaked the other underneath and around Two one more time, and brought it back to the end that Theroen held.

“Tie it off. Tight. Sorry, Two.”

Two could do little more than whimper at this point. She could feel sweat pouring from every part of her, and her entire body felt like it was on fire, with the core of the blaze centered in her abdomen. Her vision was fading in and out and her heart was beating so fast she feared it might burst.

Tori leaned back and surveyed her work, but after a moment more she shook her head. “This isn’t enough. There’s too much trauma. If we had a surgeon and some supplies we could get the bleeding stopped, but I’m trained to take the blood out of people. I … wait, I’m an idiot. Blood. She needs blood!”

“She can have every drop,” Theroen said, moving forward and holding out his wrist, but Tori grabbed his arm.

“Not you. I want you at full strength.”

There was a slight pause as both of them looked over at the man crouched behind Two, still holding her arms down.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Thomas said, letting go of her wrists, and Two coughed out laughter even though it hurt to do so.

“Thomas, please,” Theroen said.

“Dude, I was getting ready to fuckin’ kill you people not ten weeks ago. Now you want me to let her chomp down on my neck?”

“The wrist will do,” Tori said, her voice dry.

“Look, I like Two … but I like being alive better. No offense.”

“Thomas—” Theroen began again, and Two reached out a hand and grabbed his arm, stopping him. She rolled her eyes back, looking up at Thomas.

“How many people has Naomi killed in your bathroom?” she asked him, and at first he only stared back at her, jaw clenched. Then he sighed.

“You owe me for this. I don’t even know what, but you owe me something.”

“You’re a good man,” Two said, taking his arm in her hands and drawing it toward her mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell anybody else that. Is this gonna hurt?”

Two smiled. “Not for long.”

Thomas swore when she bit into his wrist, and she could feel his arm tense in her grip, but he didn’t make any attempt to pull away. Two could feel the warm liquid gushing into her mouth, and not since the first time she had ever drank, standing on the street and latched to the neck of the man who had killed his wife, had the thirst been this strong. This desperate. She fought against the swoon that wanted to envelope her. She was not going to allow herself to kill this man.

At last she forced his arm away, grunting not with the effort of moving it, but of resisting the urge to latch back on. Thomas quickly hauled his arm back and asked, “Should I wrap this up, or something?”

“You don’t need to,” Tori told him. “Watch.”

“How are you feeling, Two?” Theroen asked, wiping sweat from her brow with his hand. The care she could feel in his touch made Two, still wrapped in the afterglow of feeding, feel like crying. Everything in the entire world seemed beautiful to her in these moments.

“Better,” she said. It was true; the pain in her side was lessening even as they spoke, and the strange waves of ethereal semiconsciousness had left her.

“Holy shit, wouldja look at that,” Thomas said, his voice tinged with amazement. Two glanced over and saw that he was staring at his own wrist, which had already healed to the point where there were only two small, red dots visible.

“We get magic spit,” she said. “It’s part of the deal.”

“Gross,” Thomas replied, but her turned to look at her and smiled. “You’re looking better, Two.”

“Yeah, thanks. You’re right, I owe you big.”

“OK,” Tori said. “A couple minutes more and we get you to your feet. We have to keep mov—”

She was cut off by the sound of slow applause, a single pair of hands clapping again and again as their owner emerged from the dark at the end of the hall.

Two looked over and saw coming into the light a man of less than six feet, slightly stooped but possessed of a solid, blocky frame. His hair was dark and straight, his skin reddish-brown and lined with shallow wrinkles. She could not immediately guess his age; he might have been forty, or perhaps much older. His eyes were little more than black slits, dug deeply into his face below heavy, dark brows and above a strong nose and thick, sensuous lips.

“Losso mahjeton bestuti, losso mahjeton,” he said, and his voice pronounced the vampire words with an accent that Two had never heard before. “How very resourceful you are.”

“You …” Tori said, and her voice held equal amounts of awe and disgust, a tone of reverence coupled with deep loathing. In a moment more, Two understood who it was standing before them.

“It’s him,” she said, her voice still hoarse. “It’s the Emperor of the Sun.”

“That is the name by which I have come to be known,” the man said. “Though it is a title that was, in truth, never meant for me. It was meant for a man long-dead, who sat atop his golden throne and looked down upon me, and did not know until it happened that his time on this planet had come to an end.”

The man grinned now, and it seemed to Two as though his mouth opened far wider than was humanly possible, and that there were too many teeth contained therein, and that each of them had been filed to a needle’s point. He opened his eyes wide and they seemed to flare yellow, luminescent, glowing out from their sockets in in that dim and cavernous chamber. She had seen these eyes before, though never so intense, and she knew them in an instant. It was a moment more, however, before she could find her voice. When at last she spoke, the words came out tiny and breathless.

“Holy shit,” she said. “He’s a vampire.”

Chapter 27
Awakening

“Get your hands off of him!” Vanessa Harper screamed, striking out at the vague and blurred figure above her. She had no idea where she was or what she had been doing, no idea why she had cried these words out, and yet it seemed important she give voice to her concerns. She tried to lunge forward and felt strong hands holding her shoulders, keeping her down on the ground.

“Ness, stop. It’s me,” a voice said, and for a moment more she had no idea what those noises meant. Then, slowly, her brain pieced them together into a coherent whole. It was the voice; she recognized it, and that helped her focus. It helped her think.

“Carrie?” she asked, blinking, trying to will away the blurriness that was plaguing her vision. For the moment, it wasn’t working.

“Yeah, it’s Carrie. Can you … God, what did they do to your face? Stop struggling. Lie back.”

“I have to help him. She’s going to …”

“Whoever you’re trying to help, you’re way too late. Ness, lie down!”

Vanessa did as she was instructed. She brought her hands up to her eyes, wanting to rub them, but the flesh around them cried out against this action, sending bolts of pain racing through her body.

“Jesus, don’t touch – Captain, you have to listen to me.”

Carrie had adopted a military tone, and Vanessa found herself reacting to it. She took her hands away from her aching eyes and said, “Give me … I don’t know, give me a status report, Sergeant. What the fuck is going on?”

“Well, you’re lying in a hallway with a bunch of dead people and you’ve got two black eyes. I’ll be amazed if you can see anything right now. Also, I’m pretty sure your nose is broken. I knew I’d find you here. I tried to get to you earlier, but there was so much fighting … I couldn’t get away until after they swarmed the Command Center. There’s not much time now.”

“Not much time until what?”

“Until the charges go off. We’ve got maybe twenty minutes. Ness … Captain, what happened?”

Vanessa searched her mind, trying to remember. After a moment, she sat bolt upright, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in her head and the twist of nausea in her gut.

“Shit, the Emperor! They’re going after the Emperor. We have to … oh, God …”

“Are you OK?” Carrie asked.

Vanessa didn’t have time to answer, shoving herself away from Carrie, twisting, holding herself up on the palms of her hands like a beached mermaid as she vomited on the cold, stone floor.

“Guess not,” Carrie said when it was done, and Vanessa gave a shaky, coughing laugh.

“I think I swallowed a lot of blood,” she said, turning away from the mess on the floor and rubbing the back of her arm across lips that felt parched and broken, split in a hundred places.

“Uh … you think?” Carrie asked.

“Probably a concussion, too. Second time I’ve been knocked out cold today.”

“Who was it? Bats?”

“Yeah,” Vanessa said. She was beginning to feel better now. Cleansed. “Bats and Captain Perrault and my traitor brother, just headed in for a little chat with the Emperor.”

“Captain Perrault?! God damn it … I knew we couldn’t trust her! We have to get in there.”

“You going to take all four of them on yourself, Carrie?” Vanessa asked.

“I was hoping you’d help,” Carrie said, and Vanessa gave her a grim smile.

“You think I got this way from casual conversation?”

“I suppose not.”

“No, but we’re going in there anyway,” Vanessa said. “We don’t have a choice. I don’t think we have any chance of stopping Captain Perrault, but there’s nowhere else to go. Main exit’s cut off. Command Center’s cut off. The only way out is whatever exit the Emperor’s got.”

“Do you think he’s in danger?” Carrie asked, and Vanessa shook her head.

“Colonel Davis already came through. He said they were going to evacuate the Emperor.”

Carrie nodded. “Good. You’re still in command, Captain. What’s the order?”

Vanessa tried to think through her throbbing head. “Give me a minute. I need … I need a minute.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carrie said, rolling back on her haunches and leaning against the wall.

“I can’t believe they left me alive,” Vanessa muttered to herself. Her vision was slowly coming back now. Her eyes were adapting to the new field of vision her slit eyelids allowed them.

“I hope they’re still in there,” Carrie said.

“Why the hell would you hope that?” Vanessa asked her, and Carrie glanced up and smiled with her scarred lips.

“Because I’ve got three incendiary grenades on my belt,” she said. “I’ve been saving them for the right time and I’m pretty sure this qualifies. I’m going to light those motherfuckers up.”

Vanessa grabbed a nearby pillar and attempted to stand up. Her legs didn’t want to cooperate, but she dug down into herself and found within the core of steel that had always powered her through these situations. There had been times during her training – and not just the physical parts – where death by exhaustion had seemed a real possibility. She had felt like this, then, and she knew how to deal with it now. She knew how to think through it or, when the pain and sickness was too great even for that, how to act on instinct and let her body guide her through.

“You want help, Ness?” Carrie asked, standing up as well.

“No,” Vanessa growled. She gripped the pillar with both arms and forced her way up with her legs, and in a moment more she was standing, unsteady and not yet ready to let go of her support but on her feet nonetheless. She felt a private thrill of victory run through her, but reality soon pushed that feeling away.

I’m in no shape for this, she thought, and knew that it was true. There was no choice; they could either flee through the Emperor’s chambers or die in the coming explosions.

“You ready to move?” she asked her soldier.

Carrie nodded. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, and she pulled open the doors to the Emperor’s inner chambers.

Chapter 28
The Emperor of the Sun

“My name is Ngembe,” the Emperor told them. “I do not know if I am one of your kind, Two Majors, or merely something similar. You call me a vampire and yes, it is true, I drink the blood of others to live. But I am not like you and I never was.”

He stood before them, this man who was not a man, wearing crimson robes gilded with golden thread. At his sides hung massive hands with long, tapered fingers, spindly like an old man’s but tipped each with a thick, curved nail that looked like an animal’s claw. Despite this, he did not appear threatening; if anything, he seemed pleased to have visitors.

“Theroen,” Two murmured. “Help me sit up.”

Her lover turned to her, took her hands, and pulled gently. Two winced at the pain in her side, still bad but now manageable, and struggled into a sitting position. Beside her, Tori was still kneeling, staring at the Emperor and slowly shaking her head. Two couldn’t see Thomas, but knew that he hadn’t moved since the Emperor had emerged into the light.

Once she was no longer lying on her back, Two looked up at the Emperor and asked, “How long have you been whatever you are?”

The Emperor focused his gaze on her and smiled again, and this time there could be no doubt about it: his jaw was lined with sharp spikes that only loosely resembled human teeth. Whatever else he might claim, there was little doubt about one thing: the man’s mouth had been designed for the express purpose of carving through skin and flesh.

“I cannot recall how I came to be the way I am,” the Emperor told her. “I do not know whether I was born like this or made like this, and I cannot tell you how long I have walked this earth. My memories of my earliest days are lost like ships that sail into swirling mists, never to return. Did I have a mother? A father? A family? I cannot recall.”

The Emperor tented his fingers for a moment, the heavy nails clicking against each other, and then continued.

“What I can tell you is that when my memories start, this land was still pure, and free, and wild. I had lived two dozen lifetimes, at least, before the rise of the Olmec, the first of the great kingdoms of my land. When I brought about the downfall of those great people and first came to understand what I was, and the plague I held within me, the civilizations of those you call the Mayans and the Incans were still many centuries away. The coming of the murderer Pizarro and the first of your kind did not happen until I was ancient even by the standards of your people.”

“This is impossible,” Tori said, her voice sick. She had made no effort to move and seemed unable to do anything more than stare at the Emperor.

“No, it is perfect,” he told her. “What better way to escape the wrath of those who sought to exterminate my offspring and burn the vine all the way to its root? What better way than to become the very man that led them? I kept them alive when Pizarro and his people would have destroyed them. I led them through the jungles, through the swamps, through the deserts and the plains. I brought them here and rebuilt them, and now, after nearly five hundred years, my revenge at last is at hand.”

“But why do they follow you?” Two asked. “The colonels, they must—”

The Emperor’s laughter cut her off, starting as a chuckle but rumbling louder and louder, a broad, baritone laugh full of malice and glee. At last he spoke.

“They see what I want them to see, as have all that have stood in my presence for many long centuries. I reveal my true self only to the one who sits at my left hand and does for me that work which I cannot do for myself.”

“Charles,” Tori said. “Charles knew what you are … and that means Vanessa …”

“Oh, how it pains her,” the Emperor said, and he grinned again. “Just as it pained Charles in his early days after he was named successor to Oscar. Eventually, though, she will make peace with it. They always do. She will convince herself that she will be the one to finally see through the grand scheme hatched by the very first of my Left Hands and passed on from one to the other for all these centuries.”

“What scheme?” Two asked, and the Emperor raised his eyebrows.

“The plan to murder me, of course. How else do you think they manage to live with themselves? The plan has always been the same … eliminate all the vampires of the world until, at last, I stand again on the steps of that palace where first I assumed my crown, in the city of Choquequirao, in the peaks of the Andes. At that time my Left Hand is to turn to me, and pull from his vestments a dagger of steel, and plunge it deep into my black heart.”

He was looking off to the left, now, his eyes far away, a small smile on his wrinkled face, as if looking forward to this day.

“So did Vanessa swear to Charles she would do,” he said. “So did Charles swear to Oscar, and Oscar to Alexander, and so on down the line. Maita – the man who bore witness as I murdered his Emperor and took that man’s place on the throne, and who swore to keep my secret and to serve me as long as he lived – was the first to formulate this plan, and ever since it has been passed down.”

Theroen spoke for the first time since the Emperor had shown himself. “You do not seem particularly disturbed by this fact.”

The Emperor glanced over at him. “I am not afraid of their betrayal. When the attempt is finally made, I will turn the dagger upon he who wields it, and those others that follow me and have never seen me for what I truly am will celebrate his death at my hands. Then at last after all these years will come the time I have planned, when I begin again to populate this world with my children.”

He gave Two and Theroen a look that was almost pitying. “Your kind will be eliminated. We will strike you first from this land and then from all of the others. Wherever you try to hide, we will root you out and destroy you.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Two said, “but we’re doing a pretty good job of screwing up that plan.”

The Emperor made a scoffing sound. “Do what you want here. It doesn’t matter. I shall survive, as I have survived for all these ages of man. The humans are insignificant cattle, easily replaced. I have what I need right in this room. See how she kneels before me? My Right Hand. My sword, with which I shall smite my enemies.”

“I’m done with you,” Tori said. “I was done with you the minute I found out you killed my parents.”

“I did no such thing,” the Emperor told her, and now it seemed that his entire body was giving off a faint, white glow. “How can you even suggest such a thing? How can you use these ugly, simplistic words? I did not ‘kill’ your parents … I ate them. I ate their very souls as they poured from their bodies in thick, red torrents. I consumed them and brought them into me, and through them I have tamed you and made you mine.”

Tori rose to her feet, slow and unsteady, holding her hands out before her as if to shield herself from some immense light that shined down upon her. Even as she did so, even before she spoke, Two heard in her own mind the whispers. How long had they been there, eating at the very edges of her consciousness, insinuating themselves into her thoughts? She didn’t know, but she feared it was already too late to stop them. The whispers were becoming voices, and she thought that soon they would become much more.

“Get out of my head,” Tori said, and her words came out slow and clumsy, as if her tongue had grown thick and cumbersome in her mouth. The Emperor grinned his savage grin, his mouth full of needles, but did nothing more to acknowledge her command. The voices, now a chorus, did not stop.

Two could feel now the need to stand before this man who seemed to be slowly disappearing into a vast field of pulsing white light. She found herself climbing to her feet, unmindful of the pain in her abdomen, and was vaguely aware that Theroen and Thomas were doing the same.

“I am the Emperor of the Sun,” the man before them said, and the force of his personality seemed to wash over them like a great tide. No longer was he a man, but now instead something like a god, the merest hint of a figure surrounded by an ocean of beautiful white light. “I am the Emperor of the Sun, and you shall do as I command, as have all who have ever come before me.”

Two could feel tears burning hot tracks down her cheeks, could feel her nipples pressing hard against the fabric of her shirt, could feel her entire body trembling with anticipation at whatever might come next. That it might be her own death no longer seemed to matter; she knew only that it would be something glorious. It would be a thing of beauty that would change the world forever. In her head, the voices sang.

That was when Theroen Anders, her lover and the last of the vampire Ovras, turned and stepped in front of her, passing through her field of vision and leaning not to her ear, but to Tori’s. Lost though she was in the aura of power that surrounded the Emperor, and deafened by the chorus of screams, Two was still able to hear as Theroen began to speak.

“You are Tori Perrault, daughter of Mona and Frank, from Lima, Ohio. You were born human, made a vampire by Abraham Schorr, and saved from your curse by Two Majors. You were deceived by agents of the Emperor of the Sun and brought to him to be reshaped into a weapon, and a powerful weapon you have become, but you are still Tori Perrault. You are still you, and you do not belong to this man. He killed your parents, and you do not owe him anything.”

“Get away from her!” the Emperor commanded, and his voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Theroen turned and looked at the white fire that blazed forth from the spot where once the man had stood, and he smiled a grim smile and turned back to Tori.

“Listen to how he fears you,” Theroen said to her, and Tori took a ragged, gasping breath.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice strained as if she struggled against a weight so great it threatened to crush her.

“You can,” Theroen said. “The voices are only voices. The light is only light. For all his tricks, he is still only a vampire and you … you were made to kill vampires.”

“Be silent!” the Emperor roared, but even in her semiswoon Two could hear fear in his voice, and within the light she saw his figure again as he took a step forward.

Tori clenched her fists and closed her eyes, shaking, rocking on her feet. For a moment all things held still, and the chorus of voices rose to such a crescendo that it seemed Two’s head would split. Then Tori opened her eyes, and looked up into the blazing white star that had once been the Emperor of the Sun, and to Two’s amazement, she smiled.

“I am Tori Perrault,” she said, and her voice grew stronger with each word. “I am only Tori Perrault, and nothing more, and you do not own me, and you never have. I will not be your thing anymore!”

* * *

There was a dead man at their feet, his rifle lying next to him, and another not far away. Vanessa recognized the latter as Manuel, the man who had driven her and Charles home from the airport after the attack on the cathedral. She took a step forward to inspect his body and instead found her attention entirely captured by the events on view deeper into the room.

“I thought he’d be taller,” Carrie Brennan said, and Vanessa heard herself give an incredulous laugh. She felt unable to move, paralyzed by what little she could see through her swollen eyes.

The Emperor of the Sun was standing before the four people who had so easily bested her team, and from her vantage point he was doing nothing particularly extraordinary, but the group seemed fascinated by him, standing open mouthed and staring as he finished his speech. Only the male vampire’s face registered anything less than rapt attention.

“I am the Emperor of the Sun,” their leader said, “and you shall do as I command, as have all who have ever come before me.”

“I thought they were evacuating him,” Carrie said.

“Guess he sent them away,” Vanessa replied. She alone knew what the Emperor was, and the power over others that he could wield. If he had commanded the colonel to leave without him, then she had no doubt the colonel had obeyed.

The male vampire was moving, passing quickly over to Captain Perrault and speaking near her ear, and when the Emperor roared for him to stop, Vanessa caught a flash of what it was that the other group was experiencing; the Emperor seemed to double in size and flare white, and his words came from all around and deep within her.

Then it was gone, his efforts once again focused on the four people who had his attention, but something had changed. The blank look had gone from Captain Perrault’s face, and she was shaking. Struggling. The vampire man said something else and the Emperor again shouted at him, but it seemed too late. Now Captain Perrault was speaking, and Vanessa understood that soon there would be—

“Oh, no!” Carrie shouted beside her, and Vanessa gasped as she saw Captain Perrault – blurry and indistinct to her vision but unquestionably the same woman who had once pledged her life to the Emperor – leap forward and attack him. For a moment Vanessa felt a surge of sudden, wild joy that she could not hope to contain, and she was glad that Carrie was too focused on what was happening to notice the broad grin that had come to her face.

Captain Tori Perrault, former vampire and unwitting, unwilling convert of the Children of the Sun, swung both of her blades down at mind-boggling speed, and for the merest fraction of an instant it seemed that the Emperor was doomed. Then he reached forth with his massive, taloned hands and caught one blade with each. He pivoted, using Tori’s momentum against her, and threw her the entire length of the room. She hit the marble wall with her back, punching a deep depression into it and shattering the stone. Vanessa felt the joy drain from her as quickly as it had come, replaced with shock and an aching sense of disappointment.

I wanted her to win, she thought to herself, and realized it was true. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me?

The Emperor threw his weird, clawed hands wide and opened his impossible mouth, howling at his adversaries. No human jaw could have extended so far, nor would one be lined with daggers the way the Emperor’s was. The man made a hideous, inhuman screeching noise and launched himself at the three people in front of him. Vanessa found herself suddenly very glad that they were hiding behind pillars in a darkened alcove, thus far unnoticed by the others. Beside her, Carrie gasped in surprise.

“What the hell?” she asked, her voice shocked and breathless. “Captain … what is … what did—”

“The real Emperor of the Sun,” Vanessa said. “You’re seeing him for the first time, just like me, without all of his tricks and glamour, all of his magic. This is what Charles saw when he looked at the Emperor, and what I was supposed to see, but it was never meant for you. It was never meant for anybody but the Left Hand, and it never has been.”

She turned and looked at Carrie, who was staring at her in abject confusion.

“You wanted to know what Charles told me? This is it. He filled me in on all of the Emperor’s dirty secrets and then gave me a job. His mission for me – the job that every Left Hand has had since the beginning – was to wait until we’d wiped all of the rest of them out, and then kill the very last one. I was supposed to put a fucking knife in the Emperor’s chest. Not sure I’m going to get the chance, now, but that’s OK … I don’t think I want it anymore.”

Carrie opened her mouth to say something, burst into tears instead, and fell to her knees, covering her face. Vanessa gave her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Sergeant. You weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to find out until the end that the man we’ve spent our whole lives serving is just another fucking vampire.”

The Emperor had engaged with the rest of the group, fighting hand to hand and doing an admirable job of it. He was not as tall as the male vampire, but the combination of his incredible speed and his deadly hands was proving advantageous. He was dealing with the male, and with Thomas. The female vampire was trying to fight as well, but she was clearly hurt and her movements were depressingly slow.

I could take her out easily, Vanessa thought, and wondered why she felt no inclination to try. She was dizzy and weak from the wounds she had sustained, yes, but shouldn’t she still feel some sort of urgency? These people – these bats – were trying to kill her Emperor, then man she had sworn to give her life to protect. Why was it, then, that she felt nothing? Nothing at all?

She watched her brother swing his weapon at the Emperor, only to be knocked onto the floor. Surely this, at least, should have made her feel something, but at the moment Vanessa seemed incapable of anything but vague, numb curiosity. She had no idea who was going to win this battle, and she wasn’t sure she cared. In ten minutes, the first of the charges was going to go off, causing a chain reaction that would obliterate anything and everything below ground. There was no way, now, to move through this chamber and out into the escape hatch beyond.

Carrie was still sobbing. Vanessa stood watching the battle. Her entire face hurt, and she wanted nothing more than to knock back a gram of ibuprofen with a belt of whiskey and go lie down. Maybe death would feel something like that.

The Emperor was busy fending off both vampires, and Thomas, and now also Captain Perrault. He had nearly been taken unawares by her return; she had recovered from her flight across the room and rejoined the fight with a ferocious attack, but the Emperor had spun at the last moment and parried her swords with his hands.

His skin must be hard as a rock, she thought.  Then she turned to look at Carrie, raising her eyebrows. Even this simple gesture made her whole face cry out in pain. Carrie had gotten herself under control and was looking up at Vanessa. The scars on her face, damp with tears, glistened in the dim light. Vanessa crouched down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

“How you doing, Sergeant?” she asked, and Carrie managed a laugh.

“I just found out that everything I’ve ever believed in was a lie,” she said. “I’m great, Captain, how about you?”

“I don’t even know how to feel,” Vanessa admitted. “The only part of me that’s not numb is my fucking face.”

“We’re going to die in here,” Carrie said, glancing at her watch. “It’s over.”

“Yeah, that seems to be the case.”

“Fine. I give up.” Vanessa could see mute despair in the woman’s good eye. Carrie had accepted their coming death, and for her own part, Vanessa couldn’t seem to muster the energy necessary to do anything but join her.

Then Carrie spoke again, and though the words themselves were simple, they seemed to press deep into Vanessa, reviving her like a needle full of adrenaline driven through the breastplate and into the heart.

“At least when the place goes, it’ll burn him up with us,” she said, gesturing toward the Emperor, still locked in combat.

The words brought an image to Vanessa’s mind, and that image took her breath away. Before her she saw the Emperor, enrobed in flames and burning, burning like a great bonfire, consumed by fire and destroyed. It filled her with an impossible, indescribable joy, and here, at last, she understood her apathy, understood why she could not bring herself to act in defense of her Emperor. It had begun in the medical bay with Charles, and it had grown within her each night as she had lain on her bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to make sense of it all. In that time she had come to realize two things, though she had not been able to admit them to herself until this very moment, when the image Carrie’s words had provided catalyzed her feelings and made them clear. She understood, now, at last.

She no longer cared about the bats. Something had sheared away the old hate and pain and left her indifferent. They could live or die. It didn’t matter.

She hated the Emperor of the Sun, hated him for his lies and his deceit and his murder. She hated that his own soldiers had to be locked away from him for their own protection because he otherwise would take one from time to time, bite the man’s head off, and drain his blood. She hated that the very heart of their entire organization was such a corrupt, blackened, evil thing.

Most of all she hated that she had spent so much of her life, given so much of herself, and let so many others die for this man who wasn’t a man.

Vanessa glanced at her watch and then over at Carrie, who was still staring at the Emperor, watching as he held off the entire group of attackers.

“Sergeant,” she said. “Get up.”

* * *

The entire left half of her body felt like it was on fire, and Two was certain that the bullet wound in her abdomen had begun leaking blood again at some point during the battle, but it didn’t seem that there was any option but to keep fighting. The Emperor of the Sun was currently engaged with all four of them at once, and more than simply holding his own, Two thought he might slowly be winning. Tori and Theroen were still fighting well, but Thomas was visibly beginning to flag, and Two was hardly operating at peak efficiency herself.

Whatever doubts she might have had about the Emperor’s claim of being thousands of years old, they had long since been erased; the man was unspeakably strong, gifted with speed that made Theroen and Tori look half a step slow, and possessed of skin capable of shrugging off the few attacks they had managed to land. He had taken three or four glancing hits from the weapons they were all wielding, and he was suffering from little more than minor lacerations. She was reminded of Abraham – how even after weakening him with the heroin, it had still taken all of her strength to cleave his head from his body.

The thought of the drug brought an idea to her mind, and as Two swung desperately again at the Emperor, only to miss him and nearly shatter her blade against the stone floor, she called to her friend.

“Tori, try your darts!”

She didn’t know whether the throwing darts would be able to pierce the man’s skin or not, but it seemed worth the attempt. Tori appeared to agree, as she immediately slapped twice against her chest with that same amazing speed she had shown when fighting Jakob, flinging two darts through the air. The Emperor, only a few feet away, managed to bat one of them down, but the other caught in his shoulder and stuck there. He made another of his inhuman snarls and tore it from his flesh.

Theroen took advantage of the distraction, swinging his blade at the man’s head, and the Emperor was forced to raise his left arm, taking the full force of a blow for the first time in the fight. Blood sprayed and Two felt a rush of satisfaction, but the Emperor spun, swung his right fist, and connected solidly with Theroen’s chest, throwing him into the air. Theroen flew backward and rolled head over heels, losing his grip on his sword and colliding with Tori. Two cried out his name, turning to run toward him, but saw that he was already disentangling himself and struggling back to his feet.

“I think the dart may not be working,” he called, pausing a moment to reach out a hand and help Tori up. Then he bent down, picking up his sword and preparing to return to the fight.

“Do you really think I would arm my people with anything that could harm me?” The Emperor roared. “Idiots. I told you I am not like you. Entente quoque pix!”

Thomas had worked his way behind the Emperor and now came running toward the man, aiming to stab him in the back. The part of Two that had been trained by Jakob frowned at this strategy, but the rest of her – the part that was rapidly succumbing to exhaustion and blood loss – celebrated the possibility that the fight might be ended.

The Emperor heard the footsteps and Two watched in despair as her hopes were dashed. He spun, grabbing Thomas by the midsection and lifting him high into the air, his claws punching through Thomas’s skin in several spots. Bright red rings of blood formed instantly around the wounds and Thomas screamed, dropping his sword and struggling in the Emperor’s powerful grip. The Emperor opened his massive, frog-like mouth, preparing to lower Thomas down and take a gigantic bite out of the man’s side. Two did the only thing she could, charging forward with her sword held out in front of her.

The Emperor tried to sidestep, and with his speed he nearly managed it, but Two had anticipated this and shifted her direction at the last moment. The sword didn’t pierce his abdomen as she’d hoped, but its entire length ran along his side, cutting through his robes and slicing him open. Blood poured forth and the Emperor screamed, dropping Thomas, who landed on top of Two and drove her to the floor.

The Emperor lifted up his leg and stomped down, breaking Thomas’s sword. He made this same motion again, and Two heard a noise that seemed to her ears like a gunshot as one of Thomas’s legs broke under the blow. Thomas screamed in agony and Two, trapped underneath him, could only cry to Theroen and Tori for help.

They didn’t disappoint her, swarming over the Emperor and hacking away with their blades. For a moment it seemed that they might at last overwhelm him. Tori landed a blow to the space between the Emperor’s neck and shoulder, and Theroen scored a hit on the upper thigh.

Then the Emperor brought his claws around, raking them through the air, and caught Tori in the abdomen, tearing through the leather and Kevlar of her vest and shredding the skin beneath. She screamed and fell to the ground, and when Theroen glanced in her direction, the Emperor reached out with both hands, grabbed the blade of his weapon, and tore it from his grasp. Theroen leapt backward, out of reach of the sword, but the Emperor never swung it. Instead, he twisted his massive hands and broke the blade in two separate places, letting the pieces fall to the floor.

“Now I will end this,” the Emperor growled, and leaving Two and Thomas behind he stalked toward Theroen, who continued to back away. Two could see Tori struggling back to her feet, blood pouring from her midsection, her face a mask of grim hate.

That was when the woman that Theroen had earlier bashed face-first into the mahogany wall outside stepped out of the shadows, her eyes puffed and bruised, and said, “Need a hand, Captain?”

The Emperor stopped and turned toward her, eyes going wide in surprise, and from somewhere in the darkness behind the woman’s left shoulder there was another popping noise like the one Two had heard earlier. The rifle round caught the Emperor in the chest and did not fail to penetrate, driving deep inside of him and throwing him off balance. He tripped and crashed to the ground, struggled once to get to his feet, fell back, and was still.

“Nice shot, Carrie,” Vanessa said as a woman who Two did not know, her face deeply scarred, came into view holding the rifle. She stood next to Vanessa, looking at the rest of the group with extreme distaste.

“You have really excellent timing, Vanessa,” Tori said, staggering forward. “Hurry, he’s not dead.”

“I know,” Vanessa said. “Carrie, get ready to burn that motherfucker up. Captain, we’ve got about four min—”

The Emperor’s body surged up, in one motion going from lying on his back to lunging forward on his knees, scrabbling toward the group like a gigantic, homicidal crab. His lips were pulled back in an obscene grimace, revealing his terrible, pointed teeth, and his claws clicked and screeched on the stone as he pulled himself toward them with astonishing speed.

The woman Vanessa had called Carrie shouted something, raised her rifle, and fired again, but the shot was wild, bouncing off the floor two feet from the Emperor’s rapidly advancing form. As the monstrous creature drew closer to them, he began to make an inhuman noise of rage that seemed to come from all around and within them. The sound was so loud that it seemed to Two her ears would burst under the onslaught.

“Shit!” Vanessa shrieked, and she began to backpedal, but her feet tangled on one another and she pitched backward, landing on her rear end with a thud. Before she could regain her feet the Emperor had clambered over her, and his mouth opened wider than it ever had previously.

Christ, he’s going to bite her fucking head right off, Two thought, still lying on the floor, entranced by the sight before her and unable to will her muscles to free her from underneath the semiconscious Thomas. She could see Theroen and Tori standing wide eyed and paralyzed, watching what was happening but seeming unable to will themselves into motion.

“Ness, no!” Carrie screamed, and she launched herself forward, shoulder first, hitting the Emperor with all of the force she could muster. She might as well have been running into stone; the Emperor barely moved. He did, however, bite down on Carrie’s shoulder instead of tearing off Vanessa’s face. Carrie screamed, and when the Emperor rose to his feet he took her with him, jaws still clamped into her flesh. Vanessa scrabbled backward on all fours.

“Shoot him!” she shouted. “For God’s sake, someone shoot him!”

Theroen had neither a gun nor a sword, but he started forward anyway. Tori grabbed his shoulder and hauled him back, snarling, “Save Two! Get her the fuck out of here!” and starting for the Emperor herself.

Carrie was still howling in pain, and the Emperor grabbed her midsection with both hands, releasing her shoulder from his mouth. What had once been her right arm was now a gory mass of shredded flesh, a bright nub of bone sticking out from it. Blood was spraying in jets from some major vein or artery, and the woman had already gone pale with the loss.

“Be honored, soldier,” the Emperor croaked. “I shall take your soul into me, and your life will fuel my victory.”

He opened his mouth again, this time to clamp on to her neck, and at that moment Tori drove both blades deep into his chest, one on each side of where Carrie was hanging. They pierced the Emperor’s breastplate and traveled through his body, the tips punching out through his back. As the Emperor threw back his head and roared in agony, Two saw Carrie yank a small metal cylinder from her belt with her left hand.

“I always wanted to kill one of the big ones,” Carrie Brennan told the Emperor of the Sun, and she rammed her fist as far into his mouth and down his throat as she could. The Emperor’s eyes went wide and he clamped his jaw down in surprise, biting Carrie’s arm off completely. He dropped her body and began to struggle with the limb that was now stuck in his massive gullet.

Tori, seeing what Carrie had done, turned to run, but the Emperor reached out and grabbed her by the neck with one taloned hand, even as the other still struggled to remove Carrie’s arm from his throat. In a moment more, he pulled the arm out and threw it away, but Two saw that the metal cylinder had not come with it. The Emperor was either unaware or too busy dealing with Tori’s struggles to realize what this meant.

“You belong to me!” he roared as Tori beat against his chest, and even as he did so, Two saw orange light flare inside the Emperor’s mouth, and then the man’s midsection burst forth in a great glut of blood and flame. Both he and Tori were enveloped in fire. The heat of it set off the other two grenades on Carrie’s belt, and all three were quickly wrapped in an enormous blaze.

Two was screaming, thrashing, now hauling herself out from underneath the man lying on top of her. Theroen was racing toward her, and she wanted to tell him to turn back, to go help Tori, but she couldn’t seem to find the words. All she could give voice to were raw screams of agony and denial.

“We have to go!” Vanessa shouted, running along beside him, and Theroen made a noise of agreement. Two could hear an alarm sounding now, a final warning that the impending explosions were moments away. Theroen reached her and, moving with surprising calm, he untangled Thomas’s limbs from her own and helped her to her feet.

“Is he still alive?” Vanessa cried as she reached him.

“His leg is broken, but I think he will live,” Theroen said.

“All right,” Vanessa said. “Can you help me?”

The two of them lifted Thomas up – he cried out as they did so and then lapsed back into unconsciousness – and began to make their way toward the far end of the Emperor’s chambers.

“Theroen, we can’t!” Two cried, tugging at him, trying to pull him toward the blaze. “We can’t just leave her.”

Theroen stopped moving for a moment, and he turned to Two with a sad, sympathetic look. “She has gone beyond anything we can do for her. My love, we must leave or die. Tori told me to save you. She would want you to let her go.”

He was right – but that didn’t make it any easier, and for a moment more Two resisted, staring into the flames, hoping beyond hope that her friend would come staggering out of them.

But she didn’t, and at last Two turned, and following Theroen and Vanessa she began to limp in the direction of the exit. Behind her, she heard the first of the explosions starting from somewhere deep within the bowels of the base.

Chapter 29
After the Blaze

Half a mile in front of them, what remained of the building was on fire.

Two and Theroen sat on the cool, damp sand, the great expanse of Lake Michigan at their backs, watching as the central base from which the Children of the Sun had operated first caved in upon itself and then burned. Beside them, Thomas was lying on his back, staring up at the sky. He had come awake halfway through their journey topside, asked his sister what was happening, and accepted her snarling response to shut up without argument.

Vanessa Harper was standing a few feet in front of them and watching as the building that had been her home for the past thirteen years burned. After a time she turned, making her way back to Thomas and the vampires. She, too, sat down in the sand.

“How you doing, little brother?” Vanessa asked, and Thomas grimaced.

“I’m starving,” he said. “I could murder a cheeseburger. Oh, and also I am beat to shit and the motherfucking giant, crazy vampire we spent our whole lives working for stomped the hell outta my leg.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling a little. “I’m going to set that in a minute.”

“That sounds excruciating.”

“Probably will be.”

There was silence between them for a time and then Thomas spoke up again. “We’re both traitors now, Ness.”

“You think?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

“Why’d you do it?”

“I realized that I couldn’t live with myself anymore if I kept serving him,” Vanessa said. “But I wasn’t ready to die, either. Why didn’t you pull the trigger on that bat, back in New York? Uh … sorry, that vampire.”

Thomas was quiet for a time and then said, “Because when I thought about what the world would be like without her, it wasn’t a place I wanted to live in.”

“Wow. I guess she means a whole lot to you.”

“Guess she does.”

“She’s pretty, too.”

Thomas coughed out a few wheezing laughs. “Girl, you ain’t even seen her when she’s looking good.”

There was another period of silence and then Two asked, “So … what now?”

“I have no clue,” Vanessa said. “To be honest, I’m kind of waiting for you guys to try and finish the job.”

“Is that what you expect of us?” Theroen asked, raising his eyebrows, and Vanessa shrugged.

“I don’t know what to expect. Everything I thought I knew about you guys was nothing but lies, and you already left me alive once. I know what I did, though. I know who I killed. If you have to get some revenge, I’m in no shape to stop you.”

Two sighed. “I can’t speak for Theroen, I guess, but I am done killing people. I don’t ever want to do it again.”

“Revenge will not bring our people back,” Theroen said. “You saved our lives, Vanessa, and your soldier sacrificed herself in order to ensure the Emperor’s destruction. It would be too easy and too glib to simply say ‘we are even’ … but at the very least, I think if we can come to an agreement about the future safety of our people, then Two and I can let you go in peace.”

“Tori would have wanted that,” Two said, and she closed her eyes against the sudden tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

“A lot of Children troops escaped, and I’m not making any claims about them, but I’m done,” Vanessa said. “My job as a soldier for the Children ended sometime around the point I instructed Carrie to shoot the Emperor in the chest. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but hunting vampires isn’t it.”

“I’d think about going far away,” Two said. “There’s a Russian chick I know, and if she made it out alive and finds out that you did, too, she probably won’t stop hunting you until you’re dead.”

“I think I know what you mean, and I don’t blame her,” Vanessa said.

“You from around here? Chicago?”

“No, Thomas and I grew up in Cincinnati.”

“You think you’ll go back?”

Vanessa shook her head. “Nah. I fuckin’ hate Cincinnati. I’ve always wanted to see San Diego. Hang out on the beach, eat some tacos, drink margaritas … I’ve got an inheritance that I never did anything with. Should be enough to start over with.”

Two nodded. “That sounds nice.”

Vanessa glanced over at the burning building and then up at the moon. “I wish Carrie was coming with me.”

“I wish Tori was coming with Theroen and me,” Two said.

Thomas spoke, his voice wistful. “I wish I was at a hospital getting filled up on painkillers.”

Vanessa nodded. “We have to set that leg. It’s … seriously, Tommy, it’s gonna hurt. I’m sorry.”

“Tommy?” Two asked, and Thomas glanced over at her.

“Don’t even think about it …”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Two replied, smiling a little. “Here, hold my hand.”

Thomas took her hand and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Two realized he was applying his meditation techniques, and she thought that was a good idea. Vanessa gave him a few moments and then bent down, taking the two parts of Thomas’s leg gently in her hands. She moved them slightly, trying to get a feel for the break, and Thomas pulled in air through his teeth, hissing. Then he went back to his deep breaths.

Vanessa glanced at Two and nodded. Then, without any sort of warning, she jerked her arms, piecing the two bones back together. Thomas took a deep, gasping breath, and Two expected him to scream, but he only held it for a time and then let it slowly out.

“Son of a fat bitch,” he said in a quiet, shaky voice, and Vanessa laughed. Moving carefully, she used two sticks and the strap from Theroen’s satchel to form a makeshift splint for his leg. By the time she was done, beads of sweat had formed on Thomas’s forehead and he was breathing in deep, ragged gasps.

“That’s the best I can do here,” Vanessa said.

“It’s fine, Ness, thanks,” Thomas managed. “Just wish we had something for the pain.”

“I can give you blood, Thomas,” Theroen said. “It will help with the pain and the healing.”

“Not quite ready to take that step, my man,” Thomas said. “Thanks. I’ll be OK ‘til we find a hospital.”

“Yeah,” Vanessa said. “So, are you … I mean, are you coming with me or going with them?”

“I have no idea,” Thomas replied. “You should be in the hospital too.”

Vanessa shook her head. “I need to get away from here right now. The Children will have people looking for me. I’m going to walk a couple of blocks away from the fire, call a car service, and get to Chicago. I’ll worry about a hospital once I’m in a bigger city. But you … no one’s looking for you.”

“We’ll take him,” Two said. “We’ll get him to the ER and, after that … well, we have to meet with our people tonight but then we can wait. There’s someone in New York who’d really like to see him again.”

“You sure she doesn’t hate me for bailing on her?” Thomas asked.

“If she is anything less than ecstatic, I will be amazed,” Theroen said, and Two nodded.

“I guess I’m good, Ness,” Thomas said. “I … I’m glad you’re still here. I’m glad we’re both still here.”

“Me too, little brother,” Vanessa said, standing up. Two and Theroen stood as well, and between them they got Thomas up, balancing on his good leg and leaning against Theroen.

“Give me a hug, you pain in the ass,” Vanessa told him, and they embraced. “You got my email? My number?”

“I’ll be in touch. You know I’m gonna want to come visit when it’s twenty degrees in the city and you’re hanging on the beach with your margaritas.”

Vanessa laughed and nodded. Two could see tear tracks making their way from her puffy, swollen eyes.

“Do you think Mom and Dad are proud of us?” Vanessa asked.

Thomas reached forward and took his sister’s hands. “We survived. We grew up. We never stopped loving them, and we did the best we could every step of the way. Why wouldn’t they be proud, Ness?”

Vanessa smiled and let go of his hands. She stepped back and looked at her brother for a moment more. “I missed you, you stupid, pig-headed jerk,” she said, grinning, and Thomas laughed.

“I missed you, too,” he said. “Even your bossy, self-righteous bullshit.”

“Call me,” Vanessa said. “That’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Vanessa began to make her way off the beach, angling away from the inferno and the hordes of police and firefighters that had surrounded the building. Two wondered if they were doing the right thing, letting the woman who had killed William and assisted in the murders of both Jakob and Ashayt simply walk away. She supposed that only time would tell.

As Vanessa passed over a hill and out of sight, Theroen turned to Two and spoke. “Since I am the only one here who is neither shot nor broken, I stand the best chance of getting to the car without being interrogated. I will return with it to that road up there, and we can help Thomas in. Then we will go to the hospital. Does that work for both of you?”

“Fine by me,” Thomas said. He put an arm around Two’s shoulder and transferred his weight away from Theroen.

“Try not to get arrested, hon,” Two said, and Theroen smiled at her before turning toward the road and heading off. She and Thomas watched him go, and when he was gone, Thomas sighed.

“I’m sorry about your friend, Two.”

“Yeah,” Two said. “So am I, but she got what she wanted … the man who killed her parents is dead. I’m sure wherever she is now, if she’s anywhere at all, she’s happy about that.”

Thomas nodded and they lapsed back into silence. After a moment more, they began making their way slowly toward the road, where they would wait for Theroen’s return. In the distance, the flames from the building continued to turn the night sky orange.

* * *

With Thomas safely dropped off at the nearby Grayslake Emergency Center and left with their numbers to call when he was being released, Two and Theroen turned their attention toward making it to the rendezvous point. There were only a few hours left until dawn, but the location was not all the way back in Milwaukee. Instead the council had chosen the nearby town of Lake Forest.

The chosen meeting place was an open-air parking lot at Forest Park, on the shore of Lake Michigan, where a few people meeting in the middle of the night would, at absolute worst, be asked to leave by local authorities. More likely, no one would ever notice at all. Theroen brought them there without difficulty, using the global positioning system that had come with the car to navigate. When they arrived, they saw two other vehicles in the parking lot.

“That’s a good sign,” Two said, and Theroen made a noise of agreement, pulling into a space and shutting off the car. He got out and went around to Two’s side, helping her out – the pain in her abdomen was still substantial, but she had at least stopped bleeding again. As she stood, she heard other doors opening and closing, and when she turned around she felt an intense burst of relief run through her.

Sasha, Leonore, and Lewis had all made it. None had escaped without injury; Leonore had a large gash in her forehead, Lewis was limping, and Sasha had several bloody slashes running along her armored top. All three were smiling, however, and clearly thrilled to see that Theroen and Two had also survived.

“We were starting to worry,” Lewis said as they came together in a group.

“Leonore was worried about someone else?” Two asked, glancing at the woman and grinning. The Eresh vampire favored her with a cool smile.

“Perhaps,” she said. “Or perhaps I was just growing tired of sitting around and waiting.”

“Right,” Two said. “Well, honestly, there were a couple of points there where I was pretty sure we weren’t going to make it out. It got pretty ugly at the end.”

Sasha was looking at her side. “I would say so, since you’ve apparently been shot. Are you all right?”

Two nodded. “I had some blood. It helped. Pretty banged up, though. I’m looking forward to a long sleep, and then more blood, and then probably more sleep.”

“How did it go after we separated?” Sasha asked. “I note that your friends are not here. Are they … did they make it?”

Two bit her lip. “Thomas is alive but the Emperor broke his leg. He’s at the ER.”

“And Tori?”

Two put her hands over her eyes. She felt Theroen place a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned against him.

“Tori fell,” he said. “She died helping us kill the Emperor of the Sun, along with one of her fellow soldiers who had come to see him for the monster that he was.”

There was a moment of silence and then Lewis spoke up. “Two, I’m sorry. I know she meant a lot to you.”

Two took a few deep breaths, forced herself under control, and took her hands away from her eyes. “Thanks.”

Neither Sasha nor Leonore seemed able to look her in the eye, and Two understood why; both women were likely relieved that Tori was dead but didn’t want to express their pleasure in front of her. She admired the restraint, particularly from Leonore.

“Tell us what happened with you,” Theroen said, changing the subject. “We know that you flooded the first sublevel once the bombs went off. After that we were focused on our own tasks. Were you successful in taking the Command Center?”

Sasha nodded. “We hit a great deal of resistance on the second level and we lost many good people. Dozens of Burilgi and more than a few Ay’Araf as well. The Children were well-armed and well-positioned. In a few spots we had little choice but to overwhelm them by force of numbers … not my preferred tactic, but given the limited time available before the bombs went off, it was necessary.”

“Even with all the deaths, I think the council won some points with this one,” Lewis said. “The Burilgi who made it through were impressed with the way the attack was handled, and with the fact that the council had the balls to declare the action in the first place.”

“Knowing that the Children are dead or scattered to the wind will probably help as well,” Sasha said. “Many of their soldiers died in battle, but a large group fell back to the Command Center and barricaded themselves in. It took us some time to get through those doors, but fortunately one of the Burilgi had extensive training as an electrical engineer. He was able to get into the circuit panel and disable the magnetic locks. After that, it was mostly a matter of brute force.”

“Some of them had escaped by the time we got there,” Leonore said. “I heard soldiers yelling about it. They had sealed off the escape passage by the time we got in, but there was another one …”

“In the Emperor’s chambers, yeah,” Two said. “That’s what we used. We barely made it out.”

“We killed every soldier who had chosen to remain in the Command Center, including one of their colonels,” Sasha said. “We tried to stop the bombs, but … good hacking takes days or weeks, not minutes.”

“It’s OK,” Two said. “It’s probably better that they went off. I don’t know how much data is lying around down there, but the worse shape it’s in, the better off we all are.”

“True,” Lewis said. “Anyway, we cleared out fifteen minutes before the charges were set to go off. Everyone dispersed back through the garage doors and headed out into the forest behind the building. There were a couple of cops sniffing around by then – someone probably reported the thuds from when we blew the elevators – but nothing we couldn’t handle. I don’t think anyone got picked up, and we were all well away before the place exploded.”

“Sounds like it all went pretty well,” Two said.

Sasha gave her a small smile. “Given the limited time to strategize, the lack of floor plans or schematics, and the fact that the alarm was sounded only minutes after we gained access to the building, I would qualify it as a wild success.”

Leonore spoke up. “I must admit, I’m very curious about what happened to the two of you. Tell us about the Emperor of the Sun.”

Two thought for a moment, trying to piece the action of the previous few hours into a coherent story. Once she felt confident she had it, she began to speak. Theroen made a few additions and corrections but remained mostly silent throughout. He didn’t object when Two informed the others that Vanessa had been killed by the Emperor, and none of them seemed to give it even a passing thought; all three were far too amazed by the revelation that the Emperor had been the first – and last – of some species of vampire previously unknown to anyone but a few select members of the Children. At last, she finished the story.

“So we climbed up and out through this long pipe, and we ended up on the beach next to the lake, watching the building burn from a distance. Theroen went to get the car, we dropped Thomas off, and here we are.”

“That girl Carrie deserves some kind of a posthumous medal,” Lewis commented, his tone distant, still trying to digest everything that Two had told them.

“No shit,” Two said. “Both her and Tori do. If Tori hadn’t stabbed the Emperor, he would have ripped Carrie apart before she could ever arm that grenade. And if she hadn’t thought to jam it down his throat, I mean … who knows if the flames alone would have killed him? But it burned him up from the inside.”

“Why do you suppose he wasn’t afraid of the bombs?” Sasha asked. “Surely he must have known that the charges had been set, yet he fought you right to the end.”

“He wanted Tori. Right up to the point where he exploded, I think he still believed that he could … I don’t know, re-brainwash her. Get her back in the fold. Maybe he just got focused on that and forgot about the bombs.”

“Maybe he was confident he could survive the explosions,” Lewis said. “We don’t know exactly how far the charges were from his part of the structure.”

“No, I guess we don’t,” Two said. “Maybe he could have … but if he can survive having a fire-grenade go off inside of him and then two more lighting up right below him … I’m not sure there’s anything that can kill him.”

“I believe he is dead,” Theroen said. “While we were escaping, I made an attempt to see if I could still feel him with my mind, like I could when we first arrived in his chambers. There was nothing at all.”

“Just thinking out loud,” Lewis said. “I wish we knew more of his history.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever know much,” Two told him. “Just the basics … he started a plague that got out of hand, and the Children were formed to fight it. They wiped out all of his kind, except for him, and the only way he survived was by killing the real Emperor and taking his place.”

Theroen shook his head. “Thousands of years of history and knowledge, lost. I would call it a shame had I not met the man myself. There was no humanity left in him, if ever there had been any. He would never have come to terms with us, and he only wished to destroy us all.”

“Well,” Sasha said after a moment of contemplation. “At least we won.”

There was silence at this for a moment, and then Lewis whooped and clapped his hands. “Holy shit, we won! We’re still fucking here! Can you believe that?”

Two found herself grinning despite the sadness that still lay deep within her. She took a moment to savor the victory. The Children had been defeated and their Emperor was slain. Their great weapon had, in the end, remembered herself in time to find some kind of redemption before passing on as well. The American council of vampires had been badly wounded, but it was not destroyed. They were still here, as Lewis and said, and no, she could hardly believe it.

“Has anyone called Naomi?” she asked. Sasha shook her head.

“We thought … well, I have known her for many years, but you and Theroen are closest to her. We thought you would want to.”

“She must be freaking out,” Two said. “I’ll call her on the way to the hotel. I wonder if the building explosion made it to the national news yet.”

“Speaking of hotels,” Sasha said, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but Lewis and I need to be going. Dawn isn’t far off, and the drive to Chicago will take at least half an hour even this early on a Sunday morning.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Two said. “You should go, and so should the rest of us. I’m exhausted. We’re going to grab a room close to the hospital for the day and wait for Thomas to call. We’ll figure out about getting back to New York after that.”

“Can we do anything to help, Two?” Lewis asked her, and she gave him a tired smile, shaking her head.

“Not unless you can raise the dead, and if you could do that, I doubt Tori would be the first person on your list. You guys get out of here before the sun comes up. We’ll survive. The two of us … we seem to be pretty good at surviving.”

Sasha embraced them and Lewis shook their hands. Leonore settled for giving them a nod. Two was amused to see her getting into the car that Sasha was driving; apparently they had indeed struck up something of a friendship. Lewis, too, got into his car, and in a moment more Two and Theroen were alone, standing in the parking lot and staring out past the beach at the dark body of the lake.

“I’m so tired,” Two said, and she laughed a little. The statement seemed almost absurd. In the past ten hours she had been beaten and shot in the back with a high-powered rifle, and had engaged in a lengthy battle with possibly the oldest vampire remaining on the planet. That she was only tired, and not dead, seemed like a miracle.

“I do not believe we will find any five-star hotels in northern Illinois, but I am sure we can find something with a soft bed and heavy curtains,” Theroen said. He took her hand and began leading her toward the car, and Two followed.

* * *

When Naomi answered the door, she was wearing a pair of tight, dark blue jeans and a grey silk shirt that hugged the curves of her hips and waist and breasts. A tiny crescent of her belly was visible, and a memory ran through Two of kissing that spot. For a moment she felt a pang of that old attraction, there and gone like a lightning flash. The woman was simply too beautiful to not desire, from time to time. Two put those thoughts away and smiled.

“Hope you don’t mind an unexpected visit,” she said, and Naomi laughed, closing her eyes for a moment and shaking her head.

“No, not at all,” she said, opening her eyes again and stepping back. “Two, Theroen, come in! I am so glad to see you both!”

Two stepped into Naomi’s foyer, Theroen just behind her, and for a moment the three stood in awkward silence. Then Two thought, Ah, what the hell, and threw her arms around Naomi. After a moment the Ashayt woman hugged back, laughing.

“We did it,” Two said, and she felt Naomi nod.

“You did it.”

She had filled Naomi in by phone days before, but there was something about seeing her friend in person again that solidified everything for Two. It made her acutely aware of the fact that she had not been sure she would be coming back from the trip to Illinois. She had not been sure that any of them would. Now, at last, they could move forward. They could honor their dead, as they had been unable to do after the attack on the cathedral, and begin the long process of putting their lives back together.

Two let Naomi go and stepped out of the way. Theroen also embraced her, albeit for a much shorter time. Then he, too, stepped back and smiled.

“It is good to see you,” he said, and Naomi nodded.

“Given what I’ve heard so far of your adventures, it’s nothing short of miraculous that the two of you are standing here,” she said. “Come, I’ll open a bottle of wine and we’ll talk. I suspect there are many hours’ worth of stories to tell.”

Naomi stepped forward to close the door that led out to the hallway and the elevators, and Two touched her arm.

“Hang on a sec,” she said.

Naomi glanced at her, questioning, and Two smiled. “We brought someone else.”

“Oh? Two, you should have told me! How awful, I just left them standing in the hallw—”

Thomas, on crutches, stepped slowly into the doorway, and the sight of him stopped Naomi in the middle of the word, as if someone had locked the breath in her throat. Two felt herself grinning. She had told Thomas to hang back, and the expression on Naomi’s face had been completely worth it. For a long moment Naomi’s emotions – surprise and joy and disbelief – were naked on her face. At last she spoke, her voice incredulous.

“Thomas?”

“How you doing, Snowflake?” Thomas asked.

Naomi’s face had gone pale even for a vampire, and she had to put a hand against the wall to steady herself. At last she regained some of her composure.

“Are you … you’re hurt! Who hurt you?”

“He’s dead now,” Thomas said, and he made his way into the apartment, closing the door behind him. “Listen, Naomi, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“I … yes, very well. Go ahead.”

Thomas glanced at Two and Theroen. “You uh … gonna give us any privacy?”

Two shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Payment for saving your ass from that cell – I want to hear this.”

“Two …” Theroen began, but Thomas only shrugged, shaking his head.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Not like it’s some big secret. Listen, Naomi … when the word finally came down that it was time to start the attacks, my orders were to kill you. I was supposed to break into your place down in the Village, while you were asleep, and kill you. I got as far as your bedroom, and there you were, and I almost went ahead with it. I almost put that needle in your throat, but in the end I couldn’t do it.”

Naomi was staring at him, and Two could see that she was shaking a little. At last she asked him, “Why not?”

Thomas began to speak once, twice, a third time. He seemed unable to find the words. In a gentle voice, Two spoke. “Tell her what you told your sister.”

Thomas looked away for a time, staring at the wall, collecting himself. When at last he looked back at Naomi, it seemed that something within him, some part that had still been resisting admitting this truth to her or to himself, had departed. He looked relieved, and he smiled.

“I told her that I thought of what the world would be like without you, and it wasn’t a place I wanted to live in.”

Naomi moved to cover her face with her hands, but not quickly enough to hide how deeply she had been affected by Thomas’s words. Her entire body seemed to crumple in upon itself; she bowed her head, bending a little at the waist and giving voice to a single sob.

“Hey,” Thomas said, and he hobbled forward on his crutches, stopping just before her. With a tentative hand he reached out and touched her hair, cupping the back of her head. “Naomi … don’t.”

“Don’t,” Naomi echoed through her hands, and Two wished she could not hear such a depth of pain in her friend’s voice. “Thomas, please don’t. You will only leave, like the rest of them. You will find someone else, someone better, and leave me behind, and you will ma—”

“Cut that shit out,” Thomas growled, and he took both of her hands in his, moving them from her face. Tears were coursing down Naomi’s cheeks, making her eyeliner run, leaving tracks on her skin. Thomas held her hands until at last she looked up at him with her big, grey eyes.

“Please,” she said, her voice taut and strained. “Please don’t do this to me. I cannot bear it.”

“I had my chance to hurt you,” Thomas told her. “I didn’t do it then, and I’m not going to do it now.”

“But I—”

“I never let myself think about it, all those years when I was watching you. I never let myself pay attention to the way I would wait for you to show up every night. I never let myself consider for a single damn minute how much it sucked when you went away to Europe, or how happy I was that first night when I saw you and Two walk back into my bar. All of the time we spent talking, all those years, I lied to myself and said I was just playing you, making you trust me, staying undercover … but somewhere along the line it stopped being about that.

“I left because I couldn’t kill you, and I’m here now because I can’t just up and leave you. I can’t do that, but I couldn’t admit the whole truth to myself until right this damn moment. Seeing you again … I know you’ve been alive a long time and I don’t know who’s hurt you, but I’m not those people. I am not any of those people. I’m just me, and if you want me to go away, I’ll go. I’ll do whatever you ask me to do, because I fucking love you … but I needed you to know that first.”

There was a pause after this so lengthy that it seemed to Two that eons passed before anyone dared move or speak. There was only silence, and waiting, as Naomi contemplated these things that Thomas had said, looking into his eyes as if to divine from them whether or not he spoke the truth.

Then she was moving forward, rushing forward, putting one hand on his cheek and the other to the back of his head, and she was kissing him. She was crying again, but still kissing. Thomas let go of his crutches entirely and wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. Naomi returned the embrace, clutching him with savage intensity, as if she feared that should she stop, he would disappear forever. Two could have told her not to worry; Thomas wasn’t going anywhere.

She wiped her own tears away and grinned up at Theroen, who looked back at her, and smiled a small smile, and nodded.

“We’ll talk later, Naomi,” Two said in a quiet voice, and without further word, she and Theroen took their leave.

* * *

“I cannot imagine Thomas will be needing his hotel room tonight,” Theroen said, and Two snorted laughter, glancing up at him.

“Way to take the controversial stance.”

They were walking in the direction of Union Square, where they had been staying at the W Hotel. It was a hike from Naomi’s new apartment, but there was no rush. They had fed for the evening before leaving with Thomas for Naomi’s, and now there was nothing to do but enjoy the buzzing activity of Manhattan on a warm summer night. All around them, people were going on about their lives, enjoying drinks on outdoor terraces, eating late meals, talking about films they had seen and concerts they had attended.

“How is your side?” Theroen asked after another block, and Two looked down at it and shrugged.

“Feels fine. I think if we were going to find anything wrong with it, it would’ve happened last night, hon.”

Theroen nodded, smiling a little. They had made love for the first time since the night before the attack, and there had been a savage intensity to their passion. Theroen had first taken her standing up, her legs wrapped around his waist and her back pressed up against the wall, a pair of rose-colored panties still hanging off of one ankle. He had stopped just before his peak, ignoring her entreaties to continue, and carried her to the bed, where he had wrapped his arms around her, put his hands in her hair, and slipped back inside of her.

They had finished almost simultaneously, thrusting against each other in a way that was near violent, eyes open and locked even as they climaxed, and she had seen in his gaze at that moment something fierce and desperate and vulnerable. Theroen the young man and not the aged vampire, momentarily stripped to his core and laid bare before her. After, as she had lain with her head on his chest and felt him move his fingers restlessly through her hair, he had said, “When that man shot you, I thought I was going to have to watch you die.”

Two had kissed his chest and said, “I’m still here,” and they had stayed together like that for some time more, not speaking, letting each other’s minds reach out, each to the other.

She thought these words again, now. Thought them loudly, which was not an act she would have been able to describe had someone asked. It was just something she had come to be able to do instinctively, after much practice. She saw his smile widen and knew that he had heard her.

“I am very, very glad for that fact,” he said.

“You know what? Me too.”

They walked, holding hands and people watching. Theroen asked her, “Are you prepared for this next council meeting?”

They had set a date, less than a week away, for the first meeting since their victory in Waukegan. Two shook her head. “Not really. Between going over everything that happened again and working on the funeral plans for everyone, I’m probably going to spend half of it crying.”

Theroen nodded. “I am not looking forward to it either, but I must admit some desire to be done with it all.”

Two raised her eyebrows. “You’ll be ‘done with it,’ huh?”

“Not with the council,” Theroen said, and he gave a sort of disgusted laugh. “I think at this point I am, as they say, in too deep. I never would have thought that I would become so enmeshed in the politics of our people, nor so concerned over the preservation of anything founded by Abraham.”

“But here we are,” Two said.

“Indeed. And if I told you tomorrow that I wished to leave it all behind and go somewhere … anywhere … else?”

Two smiled. “Then I’d go with you because I love you, but you’re not going anywhere, you jerk. I saw you browsing Craigslist this morning.”

“That was mere curiosity,” Theroen said, a touch of defensiveness in his voice, and Two laughed at him.

“Yeah? ‘Historic Brownstone in Brooklyn’s Best Neighborhood. Move-in Ready!’ … that ring any bells?”

“I might have bookmarked a few interesting postings,” Theroen conceded, trying to seem disinterested. After a moment, he smiled broadly and turned to her. “At any rate, a suite at the W is more than sufficient for now, is it not? Or are you in a rush?”

“I’m not looking to go anywhere, baby,” Two said. “We’ll find something when we’re ready. Remember what you told me? All the time in the world.”

“Did I say that once upon a time? I believe that I did. Where do you suppose that time will take us from here?”

Two shrugged. “No idea. Wait, no, scratch that … I know exactly one place it’s taking us.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. It’s taking us to that bar, right over there, because I know they have a whole bunch of good bourbons, and it has been way, way too long since I drank good bourbon. I want to get drunk and find a dark corner and make out with a cute, tall boy with dark hair and light brown eyes. Know anyone like that?”

Theroen stopped walking, and when Two turned to give him a questioning look, he took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers.

“I am glad to be here with you,” he said.

Two stood up on tip-toe, put her hand on his shoulder, and kissed him. “Good, because I’m glad to be here with you, too. Let’s stay like this for as long as we can, OK?”

“That sounds excellent,” Theroen said, and after a moment more, still holding her hand, he began to walk again. Two held her ground and he stopped, turning to look at her in confusion.

“It’s really done, right?” she asked, looking up at him and holding his gaze with hers. “It’s really over?”

Theroen looked back at her with his luminescent eyes, and instead of his normal, careful calm she saw on his face a sort of transcendent joy. In it she read the answer to her question even before he spoke. Yes, it was done. They had come through the fire and lived to tell the tale.

“It is over and we are here,” he said. “There is nothing more in front of us except you, and me, and the future. We are now where I hoped we would be when I first found you and brought you to me. We have survived Abraham, and Aros, and the Emperor of the Sun. We have come out the other side and can, at last, together, truly make a life of our own.”

Two pressed herself against him, holding him tight, and after some time like that she raised up on tiptoes again and pressed her lips to his. Theroen put his hands in her hair, kissing, touching, holding her to him. She thought of the little hill where they had first made love, where he had bitten her and brought her into this strange, terrible, beautiful world.

Are you ready to leave? he had asked her, all those years ago, on the street in East New York. Sitting there in his Ferrari, she had heard in his voice a finality that had told her, for better or for worse, that her life was about to change forever.

Two thought of all the pain, all the despair, all the anger and hate that she had known since that time. She thought as well of the love and warmth and happiness that had come to her since the day Theroen had taken her away from the world she had known. Where would time have taken her, had she never met him? Away from Darren? Or only to a slow and agonizing death by addiction?

It didn’t matter; she would never trade it. She would never go back, even were the chance offered her to undo all of that pain. There was too much joy. Too much love. This place – this here and now – was where she belonged, and though she didn’t and couldn’t know what the future would bring, she was excited to find out what lay ahead.

She finished kissing her lover and put her head against his chest for a moment more. Theroen didn’t rush her. At last, when she felt she was ready, she looked up at him and smiled.

“Let’s see where time takes us.”

Hand in hand, together, they stepped forth into the crowd.

Epilogue

“Do you see it?”

“Yeah, man, I see it. What do you think it is?”

“… Think it’s a girl!”

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Seriously. Come on.”

They scrambled down the embankment, one after the other, coming to a stop in the rocky scree just before the ground became boggy. They couldn’t see the whatever-it-was anymore; the cattails were in the way now.

“Dude, I don’t think I wanna,” the blonde one said. He was eleven years old, thin and bare-chested, his tanned torso covered with scrapes and scratches from exploring the woods and marshes along the lakeside.

“Joey, we gotta see if it’s really a girl or not.”

“I said I don’t wanna.”

“Why not? Man … how many kids actually get to say they found a dead body? Come on!”

The other boy’s name was Angel, but he made everyone call him ‘Ainge’ because Angel was a pussy name. He was short and stocky, Dominican, with crew-cut black hair and a faded Paul Konerko T-shirt that he wore at least four times a week. He was eleven, too, and carrying a half-wrapped, foot-long submarine sandwich in his left hand.

“Fine,” Joey said. “But if it’s a … a person, we’re calling the cops.”

“Right, yeah, sure. We’ll phone it in! That’s what they say on CSI.”

“Just fuckin’ go, Ainge.”

They moved forward into the cattails, stepping lightly on the marshy ground, trying to avoid the pools of water and the thick, black muck that would suck the shoes off their feet. The tall plants rattled and shook with their progress. Ainge munched on his sandwich, holding his right arm out to part the reeds.

“Hold on,” Joey said, lifting a hand. “I think I see it.”

“Her,” Ainge said around a mouthful of bread and cheese and capicola.

“Shut up. Look, there’s a sandbar. If we go around …”

“Yeah, sweet!” Ainge stepped out onto the sand. His silver-black high tops sunk in a little, but it held his weight. Joey followed him, and in a moment more they passed through the last of the cattails and got their first good look at the whatever-it-was.

“Holy shit, it is a girl,” Joey said in a breathless voice, and even Ainge seemed stricken speechless by what lay before them.

She was pink and naked, lying on her side half-submerged in the mud, her face pressed into a thatch of cattail roots. She didn’t have any hair, and her skin was cracked and leathery, but she didn’t look gross or rotted like Joey had feared. One of her breasts was exposed, the brown nipple resting just atop the black muck of the bog, and he couldn’t help but glance down between her legs. They were crossed, and there was nothing to see. He looked over at Ainge.

“What do we do now?”

Ainge, apparently over his momentary shock, took a gigantic bite from his sandwich. “Poke her with something.”

“Are you nuts?!”

“Well what else are you gonna do? Push her over, anyway. I wanna see her face.”

“Dude, I am not touching that.”

“You are such a pussy,” Ainge said. “Hold this.”

He thrust his sandwich toward Joey, who took it, giving it a brief, disgusted glance. Ainge had asked for extra-extra mayo and it was oozing out the sides, practically dripping down on the sand below.

“Don’t know how you eat this shit,” Joey told him, and Ainge laughed, giving him the finger.

“There’s no sticks here. It’s just cattails. Wait, hang on …” Ainge plunged his hand into the water and pulled forth a long, waterlogged branch. He shook the muck off of it and stepped up next to Joey.

“After this we’re getting out of here,” Joey said, and Ainge nodded.

“Sure, right. Look … see her titty?”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ see her titty. Just do it, man!”

Moving at a glacial pace, Ainge reached out with the stick. Eventually it pressed into the girl’s bicep, and he lingered a moment before withdrawing it.

“Hmm,” he said. It was a noise of deep contemplation.

“What was that?” Joey asked. “I thought you were gonna push her over.”

“How am I supposed to push her over with a stick? It’ll break.”

“Well, what was the point of poking her then?”

“I dunno, to see if she was, like … gross. Gimme my sandwich.”

“You are such a huge idiot.”

“At least I’m no pussy,” Ainge said, and he gave Joey a huge, shit-eating grin before taking another bite.

“If you call me a pussy again, I’m gonna—” Joey began, and then the girl in the water shoved upward with both arms, pulling a ragged gasp of air into her lungs and making a terrible, clotted retching noise. A thick stream of black, silty liquid poured forth from her mouth, and even as she vomited forth this noxious substance she turned to glare at them with bloodshot eyes. There was nothing whatsoever to be found in her gaze but raw animal rage.

“Mama!” Ainge shouted, and he dropped his sub on the sandbar, turned tail, and ran crashing through the cattails. Joey lasted a moment longer, but only because his entire body was held in rigor, as if a great electric jolt was running through him. The sole thing that seemed able to function was his bladder, which voided a good deal of its contents into his pants. Then he, too, was off and running.

The girl in the water finished expelling the filth that had filled her lungs and stomach and sat coughing, looking around, blinking in the daylight. She grimaced in pain as she flexed her joints, listening to her burnt skin crackle as it snapped and split with the movements. Her stomach, now empty, gave an audible grumbling, and she snaked an arm forward to pick up the forgotten remains of the fat boy’s sandwich. It was gone in three bites, leaving her mouth gritty with sand. She drank from the stagnant, murky water, unconcerned by the possibility of disease.

She was alive, and this was, for the moment, a fact of enormous wonder. It took her some time simply to remember who she was and how she had come to be here. At last, her mind began to piece the scattered shards of her memory back together. She thought of where she had come from, and what she had done, and what she had passed through to reach this point.

She thought of those who must now believe they had escaped her wrath. There were people still left who had been there, in that very house, on the night that those closest to her were held down and murdered for their blood. The Emperor and the Left Hand were dead and gone, yes, but the other two who had been there that night – Colonel Palowski and Major Davidson – had not yet met their fate. She would find them, no matter how long it took, and she allowed herself a moment to contemplate what she would do to them once she had.

Sitting there in the muck, naked and dirty, her extraordinary body burnt and broken but already healing, the girl in the water began to laugh.

The End

Keep Reading for a Sneak Preview of Christopher Buecheler’s next book:

The Broken God Machine

Author’s Note

What an amazing journey this has been.

In 2009, I released an eBook that had its genesis in sketches and story ideas dating all the way back to my early teens. I had no idea what to expect. Of course I hoped it would succeed, but I knew there was every reason to expect that it would not.

Somehow, it did. It succeeded beyond not only my levelheaded hopes, but beyond my most optimistic predictions. I won’t say it went beyond my wildest dreams, because I’ve got a pretty vivid imagination, but it pushed pretty far in that direction.

It’s been three years, and The Blood That Bonds is still being downloaded thousands of times every week. I don’t even know what the final tally is. 400,000 for sure. 450,000? 500,000? Very possible. Have half a million people really downloaded my book? Is that possible?

Then we have the sequel. Blood Hunt came out on September 1, 2011 and again, I had no idea what to expect. This wasn’t a freebie. People were going to have to pony up real money for this, something which always drops the numbers by orders of magnitude. I set my goal at five thousand sales – that was the amount the book would need to sell in order for my cut of the proceeds to cover what I’d paid Lauren and Karla. Five thousand was a number that seemed plausible but not too crazy. Not too pie-in-the-sky.

Blood Hunt broke five thousand sales in six weeks. It briefly sat at or near the top of the fantasy and urban fantasy lists on both Amazon and Barnes & Noble. It continued to sell for the entire next year (it’s still selling now), and it continues to be highly rated and reviewed.

Both books are true independent success stories; I never had an agent or publisher, and I never had any marketing or PR other than my own efforts. There are many authors with publishers, agents, marketing people and PR people who don’t sell the amount of copies that Blood Hunt has sold. This is a real thing I have built, with a real fan base of people who love the characters and want to know what happens to them.

All of this still sometimes seems impossible to me.

Here we are with the third book. I’ve delivered it, and by the time you’re reading this, you know how it all ends. Hopefully you’ve celebrated with the people who survived and grieved for many of those who didn’t. Maybe you’re wondering about that epilogue, and what it might mean for the future. Most of all, I hope, you’re happy for Two.

She’s come a long way from the nineteen year-old girl who was trapped selling herself for drugs, and from the – let’s be honest, here – headstrong, brash, and selfish person that she was. Her experiences with Theroen and Naomi and her other friends have helped her make the transition from semi-child to adult, one that we all go through in our early twenties. She has for the most part done right by the people she cares about, and who care about her. I’m proud of her.

I think she’s earned something of a rest. There are people out there clamoring for this trilogy to become something larger, and I appreciate their enthusiasm, but Two’s story has come to its end. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever revisit her – though it doesn’t mean I will, either – it just means I don’t have anything more to do with her character right now. Maybe once she’s got ten years as a vampire under her belt, we’ll take another look.

I’m not done writing, though. Included at the end of this book is a sample from my upcoming science fiction novel The Broken God Machine, which I think readers of my work will enjoy even though it’s a large departure from the II AM Trilogy. After that? I’m already working on a noir-styled revenge thriller set in the partially-flooded borough of Brooklyn in 2058.

Oh, and there’s one other thing – You might remember a mention or two in The Children of the Sun of a Tyler from LA? He’s not a throwaway name. Tyler’s part of a small group of vampires with very distinct talents, and someday soon he’s going to make the acquaintance of one Malcolm Brooks, a grifter and a womanizer whose most recent conquest has gone decidedly wrong.

Malcolm is going to wake up in a hotel room with a naked, dead woman lying on the floor next to him and no memory of how he or she got there. Fortunately for Malcolm, there will be a Post-It note stuck to the woman’s belly with a phone number and the name of the only person in the world who can help him now.

Unfortunately for him, she’s dead too.

See you soon!

-Christopher Buecheler

Want more information?

There’s lots of ways to stay in touch:

         Visit Christopher Buecheler’s Writing Blog
http://writing.cwbuecheler.com

         Follow @cwbuecheler on Twitter
http://www.twitter.com/cwbuecheler

         Like Christopher Buecheler on Facebook
http://on.fb.me/iOAdA1

         Subscribe to the CWB Writing Newsletter
http://writing.cwbuecheler.com/newsletter

About the Author

Christopher Buecheler is a professional web designer / developer, a published author, an award-winning amateur mixologist, a brewer of beer, a player of the guitar and drums, and an NBA enthusiast.

He lives a semi-nomadic existence with his wonderful French wife and their two cats, Carbomb and Baron Salvatore H. Lynx II. Currently they reside in Providence, Rhode Island.

You can visit him at http://cwbuecheler.com

The Broken God Machine
By Christopher Buecheler

Sneak Preview

Somewhere, past even the thick jungle that spread wide across the eastern border of Pehr’s land, the metal thing stood keeping its sad and lonely watch.

Long since exposed by the ravages of time, its skeleton-like understructure – once sheathed in material cunningly designed to mimic the smoothness and elasticity of human skin – was now covered with a grey-green coating of moss and lichen. This substance had built up in microscopic layers over eons to form what seemed at first glance almost a furry, organic musculature, though in truth it was still the underlying handiwork of the original designers that gave weight and shape to the metal thing’s appearance. The overall impression it gave, now, was of a thin and wasted corpse left leaning against a canyon wall, long abandoned. Forgotten.

At its feet, and in a ring some fifty yards around it, lay countless bones, some so ancient that they had become nothing more than dust that mixed with the rich jungle soil to form a kind of chalky grey paste. No plants grew within this circle, and no living thing made its home there; no beetle crawled, no earthworm slid, no rodent scurried or ant clambered, no creature moved within the ring of bone. The earth there had been poisoned by some long-forgotten people, in some long-forgotten past, for some long-forgotten reason. The methods and materials they had used in this toxic exercise lived on, like the metal thing, even ages after the land it had been set to guard had become home to little more than the wind that screeched through its ruins like the wailing of ghosts.

Still, the metal thing was not completely forgotten, not completely abandoned. There were those who knew of its existence, and the majority of those typically gave it a wide berth. When the blessings of the gods were required, however, the metal thing would entertain visitors, and it would extract its payment in the blood of their chosen sacrifice. These offerings were not made lightly, and the metal thing had never yet failed to take what was given to it. The bones that formed the blasted, shattered perimeter of its arc of influence lay in testament to this fact.

Others, too, sometimes stumbled into the place the metal thing had made its home, and this was one such occurrence. One of the wild boars that Pehr’s people so prized had wandered deeper and further than its brethren usually ventured. Driven by a mad desire for the delicious fungus which grew sometimes below the roots of the jungle trees, the boar had moved ever inward and upward, its keen senses guiding it toward its prize. Now, at last, had come its moment of triumph.

There was nothing within this poison garden for the boar, of course. Nothing edible could grow within the metal thing’s circle, but on the far side from where it now stood, the creature could discern that most subtle of aromas, the delicious prize that it sought. It had only to cross, and while this land smelled foul to the boar, it was not so toxic as to be worth circumventing. The boar trotted into the field of bones at a brisk pace, intent on the delicacy that awaited it less than thirty yards away.

The metal thing’s response was instantaneous. Moss-covered and derelict though it might have been, its internal workings still functioned, and it jerked alive with the screech of metal on metal, moving from its leaning position to full standing, its arms thrown back. Tiny motors located below what had once been its cheeks whirred and spun, attempting to contract simulated skin and muscle that was no longer there.

“W-LC-M-  FR--ND!” it howled at the boar, its voice a grinding, buzzing warble that might once have sounded human.

The boar stopped dead in its tracks, hunkering low to the ground in fear, preparing to flee. It could not have known, even had it been gifted with any such capability of thought, that it was for all intents and purposes already dead. It could not understand that the metal thing’s sensors and motors and inner workings allowed it to react – even now, after a millennia of disrepair – at speeds far beyond those of which the boar was capable.

“PL--S-  PR-S-NT  Y--R  P-SS,” the metal thing screeched, and the boar turned to begin its lumbering attempt at escape, unleashing a terrified squeal in the process.

The metal thing lurched, knee-joints howling in protest as it dropped into a crouching posture, its arms swung low toward the ground for added stability. Its eyes were covered with a series of moss-coated, interlocking plates, and they opened now to reveal centers that burned red like the embers thrown forth by a volcano. Death poured from those eyes, even as it screeched its last words to the creature so desperately attempting to escape.

“P-SS  N-T  PR-S-NT-D.  -C-SS  D-N--D.  PL--S-  L-C-T-  TH-  V-S-T-R  C-NT-R  T-  -BT--N  PR-P-R  CR-D-NT--LS.”

The boar was a sizzling lump of meat, its bristly hair smoldering, twin smoking craters bored through its side, long before this sentence was finished. The metal thing cocked its head as if studying this scene and then, after a moment, returned to a standing position. It leaned against the canyon wall, eye-covers sliding shut, and its skeletal shoulders slumped.

“TH-NK  Y--  F-R  V-S-T-NG,” it said, and then it was silent, as it sometimes went for months or years between encounters of this type.

At a safe distance, yellow-green eyes took all of this in. The sacred circle remained unspoiled. The boar had passed into the arc of death and had paid the price which all that trod upon the ground there must pay. Everything was as it had ever been, since first the watch had begun.

Above the metal thing, past the canyon, the wind wailed its banshee’s dirge. A tiny bug came to the edge of the metal thing’s domain and stopped, sensing the polluted soil in front of it. Turning around, it trundled off the way it had come, and so was spared the boar’s fate, and the fate of all those whose bones littered that tainted ground.

Learn More

http://writing.cwbuecheler.com/

Table of Contents

- The Children of the Sun
- The Children of the Sun
- Have You Read the First Two Books?
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Part I
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Part II
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Part III
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Part IV
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Part V
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Epilogue
- The End
- Author’
- Want more information?
- About the Author
- The Broken God Machine