"Maybe I'm unasking," he said.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means that I'm lonely."

"You live and work with Cardinale, and you're in love with her."

"I know that."

I wanted to ask, Then how can you be lonely? But I wasn't sure how to say it. He said it for me. "I thought being in love meant you'd never be lonely again, that it would be like coming home in every sense of the word."

"It is like that," I said, and couldn't help but smile as I said it.

He shook his head. "That smile on your face, that's what I wanted to feel, but it's not like that with Cardinale, not anymore."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said, "The bleeding has almost stopped."

"Oh good, I've stopped sweating blood for the second time today." He threw the last of the bloody Kleenex in the small trash can and turned to me with angry eyes. "Jean-Claude told me if I went mad again he might have to kill me."

"I remember," I said.

"You can't let me hurt innocent people again, Anita."

"I know," I said.

"I told Cardinale about the last time something went wrong with me, and I honestly think she'd prefer me dead than with someone else. How can that be love, Anita? How can she prefer me insane and having to be killed like an animal to me sleeping with other people?"

Again, I had no good answer, so I said nothing. I rarely got in trouble saying nothing.

"Answer me, Anita. How is that love?"

Of course, not everyone will let you say nothing; sometimes they demand more than that, even when there's nothing good to say. "I don't know, Damian."

"You don't know, or you know that isn't love-it's obsession?"

"Since I'm the other woman as far as Cardinale is concerned, I'd rather not comment."

"She-Who-Made-Me didn't understand love, but she understood being obsessed with someone. She'd find someone among the prisoners or the would-be treasure seekers who would come to the castle; like ordering pizza, the food comes to you." He laughed, but it was a bad sound, the kind of laughter that made you cringe or want to cry. "She'd pick one special person to tease and torment and maybe fuck. Sometimes they thought she loved them, but it was the kind of obsession that scientists feel for insects, so beautiful until you kill it, stuff it, and put a pin through it."

I fought not to point out that insects aren't stuffed, and not to ask if She-Who-Made-Him actually stuffed or pinned her victims. Neither comment would help the pain in his eyes, so I let them both go. I can be taught.

"You can't equate Cardinale with her," I said, finally.

"Why not? Maybe after so many centuries with She-Who-Made-Me, obsession is all I understand? What if that's what I saw in Cardinale? What if years of being tormented have made me mistake someone who wants to possess me for someone who wants to love me?"

"I don't even know what to say to that, Damian, except it's probably above my pay grade on the therapy scale and it sounds like a question for a real therapist."

He nodded. "Maybe it is."

"When do you get off work tonight?" I asked.

"Two hours before dawn."

"You and Cardinale live at the Circus, so you'll be heading that way anyway. We'll see you an hour before dawn."

"That won't give us much time."

"I'll fill Jean-Claude and Nathaniel in on everything, so we'll have less to explain."

"An hour is still not much time to solve the unsolvable," he said.

"Jean-Claude doesn't have to die at dawn, if I'm touching him, and you aren't dying at dawn. That gives us more time," I said.

He seemed to think about that, then nodded, putting his coat over the back of his chair so his hands were free. He stood there bare from the waist up, except for the blood that was beginning to dry on his back. "A bright side to this cursed sleep, then," he said.

"Most vampires are a little afraid of that moment when they die each day," I said.

"I think a part of me would be relieved to finally die for real."

"Are you thinking suicidal thoughts?" I asked, because you have to ask, or you won't know.

"No, I was raised to believe a death in battle meant a good afterlife, and I was fighting when She-Who-Made-Me took my life."

"You mean Valhalla and all that."

He grinned. "Yes, Valhalla and all that."

"So you count that moment as your death, and wouldn't count dying as a vampire now?" I asked, because it was me and I wanted to know.

He shook his head. "She-Who-Made-Me killed me, Anita. Make no mistake about that."

I wasn't sure I agreed with his definition of life and death and when he was killed, but if it gave him comfort, who was I to argue with it? I believed in heaven, and wasn't Valhalla just Damian's version of that? If it wasn't, the difference was a question for a priest and I wasn't one of those, so I let him take his comfort and I kept mine.

"I'll see you later tonight, then," I said.

"I can't go to work like this," he said. "I smell like fresh blood and sweat. It's disgusting."

"I haven't noticed you smelling bad; maybe just take a bird bath in the bathroom back here," I suggested.

"You haven't gotten close enough to smell my skin," he said.

"You just said you don't want me closer since you sweated blood from one touch."

He sighed. "Yes, I did."

"I'm heading to the Circus of the Damned, then. I've got people waiting for me."

"Can I catch a ride with you? I need a shower and clean clothes."

"You fly better than almost any vampire I know; you don't need a car."

"I don't feel myself tonight, Anita. I'd rather use a car."

"How did you get here tonight without one?"

"Cardinale and I carpool. You know that."

"Sorry. You're right. I do."

"Look, if you don't want to give me a ride, just say so."

"I'm not sure you and I in a car alone together is a good idea until we know why shaking hands made you bleed."

He took in a lot of air and let it out slow. Was he breathing more than normal for him, and for most of the vampires I knew, or was I just more aware of it? I almost asked, but then left it alone. I'd ask Jean-Claude later after he'd had time to watch Damian tonight.

"You're right," he said.

"Maybe you can drive the car to the Circus, shower, and come back for the big dance number at the end of the evening," I said.

"Sensible," he said.

"You sound like you'd rather I not be sensible."

"The urge to touch you is always there, Anita, even after what just happened."

Since I wasn't as drawn to him as he was to me, I kept quiet, because when a man tells you something like that it's just mean to tell him you don't feel the same. I did my best not to hurt anyone's feelings if I could help it.

"You're shielding so hard, Anita, harder than when you came through the door."

"We shook hands and you sweated blood, Damian, and I don't know if I caused it. So yes, I'm shielding as hard as I can from you right now."

"It's like you're not there at all now."

"You can see me," I said.

He shook his head. "It's not the same, Anita."

"I haven't cut our ties as master and servant. I know enough not to do that by accident now."

"You might as well be on the far side of the world for all the energy you're sharing with me."

"See my earlier statement, Damian."

"You're probably right to do it, but I feel worse, as if a little bit more of my air was cut off and I'm suffocating more quickly."

"You're a vampire. You don't have to breathe except to talk."

"I tell you how I feel, and you're going to argue semantics with me?"

It was my turn to take in a lot of air and let it out slow. I wanted to get impatient, maybe even angry, but I tried to do better. "You're allowed to feel the way you feel, Damian, but vampires can't suffocate. It was just odd phrasing."

"There's a lot odd about me lately, Anita."

"I'm going for my date now. You tell Cardinale why you're borrowing the car and missing part of your shift."

"I'll talk to Angel about working around me in the dances. We really need another male vampire that can take some of my performances, or hers. She's a great assistant manager, but we both need someone to take the dance floor for us sometimes so we can manage things."

"Mention it to Jean-Claude tonight. He'd probably know which of our people might be good at it."

"You know all our vampires, too, Anita."

"I can tell you which of them would be the best for security, or law enforcement backup, but I can't tell you who could dance some of the old routines you perform here at Danse every night."

"Nathaniel might know, too," Damian said.

"Yeah, or Jason," I said.

"I'll ask them, and could I find you after I shower and change to talk about everything?"

"Text me when you're done showering and changed. If we're at a stopping point, I'll text you back, but if I don't reply, then we'll talk an hour before dawn like we planned."

"Fair enough," he said, but he still stood there shirtless and looking lost. If I hadn't been afraid of touching him again, I'd have given him a hug. Since I couldn't do that, I went for the door. I had a rare night off and a date. There'd been a time when I would have allowed Damian's issues to derail the whole night, but there was always a fresh emergency, and there always would be. Police work had taught me that, and it had taught me something else: that if I wanted to have a life outside of the blood, death, and scary stuff, I had to fight for it. I had to protect my free time as fiercely as I did anything else in my life, because if I didn't, then my "life" would be another casualty as surely as any other crime victim.

I kept my metaphysical shields as tight as I could between me and the vampire behind me, because otherwise I'd have felt all the emotions that were making him look lost and I might not have been able to go for the door. I reached for the door, and it crashed open toward me. I jumped backward, pulling my gun as I moved, just automatic when a door opened with that much angry force. If it was someone who'd done it by accident, I'd apologize for scaring them, but I didn't have to apologize, because it was Cardinale and she hadn't come to be scared-she'd come to be scary.

In her stilettos she was over six feet tall, all thin bones and angles, the makeup that carved her face into model-perfect beauty floating on the white glow of her skin like water lilies on a pool. The cross inside my blouse was warm. I kept one hand very steady on the gun and used the other to drag the chain up and put the glowing cross on the outside of the silk. It wasn't glowing bright enough to burn flesh yet, but it could. Holy fire wasn't always careful what it burned when evil was in the room.

I could see the bones in Cardinale's skull as she turned to look at me, like shapes half seen under the glow of her flesh. I should have sensed her that deep in her power, so close, which meant I'd been shielding from Damian too hard to sense any other vampire.

"Don't shoot her, Anita!"

"I'd rather you shoot me than fuck him behind my back." She yelled it at me, her teeth and fangs moving almost like one of those X-ray short films they used to show in biology class, except this image glowed like light carved into a pretty monster. Her long red hair fanned around her glowing skull like airborne blood frozen in a cloud that would not fall to the floor, her eyes were like blue fire.

"I haven't touched Damian since you told me you were monogamous." I was having to squint against the growing glow of my own cross, like having a white star hanging around my neck; soon I'd be blind except for the light. I had to shoot her before that happened, or I wouldn't be able to see to aim. I hated to kill Cardinale over a jealous misunderstanding, but I'd hate her tearing my throat out even more.

"Tone the power down, Cardinale, or I will shoot you!"

"We were just talking about my illness, Cardinale."

"You stand there half naked with her bloody nail marks down your back and you were just talking!" She screamed it at him and moved toward him, which was better than her moving toward me.

"I started sweating blood again. I could not reach my back to clean it off."

The cross around my neck was filling the room with bright white light; it wasn't actually hot, like flame, and wouldn't be unless it touched vampiric flesh, or demon, or someone who had given their soul to evil, or . . . hell, it burned if evil with a capital E touched it. The glow of the cross was mingling with the glow of the vampire, so it seemed to be swallowing her to my sight, though I knew that wasn't it. She'd have to touch the cross to burn. The fact that she wasn't hiding her eyes from the glow was a bad sign. It meant she was more powerful than I'd given her credit for, or she was so pissed she didn't care yet.

I couldn't risk glancing at Damian to see if he was hiding his eyes from the glow; the room was too small, and Cardinale was too close to me. If I was going to have to shoot it would be in the blink of an eye, and glancing anywhere but at the vampire that was menacing me would cost me that blink.

"I give you my word of honor, my heart, that I started to sweat blood again. I took the jacket off so it would not be ruined. My back is covered in the blood I could not reach."