Monster's doing. Monster would kill all.

But the beast would kill Reese first. Make up for having started it all.

Back in the dressing room, the monster screamed.

In the hall, the beast scrambled to his feet and ran.

"Do you know anything about vampire history, Mr. Haven?"

Haven already knew that no matter how he answered Valentine's question, he was in for a lecture. It seemed like every woman he met was a talker. Was there something about his aura that "Projects that you're a good listener," Valentine finished the thought for him.

Haven took his concentration off weaving through the heavy traffic long enough to give Valentine a duty look.

"You strong, silent types make us girls want to confide in you."

"Nah," he answered. "I think it's because I've started hanging with geeks."

She smiled, her dark eyes glowing. When Char showed off her vampire side, he always found it at least a bit disturbing. But from Valentine it was kind of cute. He had the feeling that she had to make an effort to act like a vampire.

"I'm old," she explained to him. "It becomes less important. At least, the urgency dies down to a mostly manageable level."

"Mostly?"

"I'm not dead yet. Now, where was I?"

Haven didn't answer. His driving was automatic now. Most of his attention was on the Silk Road as they approached it. Invisible energy pulsed and twined around the huge building's many spires and domes. It was like he saw the place through a kind of midnight heat haze. And the haze was spreading.

"Don't like the look of it," he said.

"And there's a black-hearted feel to it as well," the old vampire added. "Black magic. I hate black magic."

Haven canted an eyebrow at her. "Don't vampires come from black magic?" Oh, G.o.d, he thought. Now I've done it. There was no one to blame now but himself if Valentine went off on the lecture circuit.

"Yes," she answered. "We were created by an act of evil. The first vampires brought it all on themselves."

"Really," he said in a tone he hoped would convey, Please don't say any more.

It didn't stop her. "There used to be a lot more magic in the world, Haven. A whole lot. Magic is energy."

"Yeah. I know that."

"You know how astronomers say that the universe is made up of stuff created during the Big Bang?"

"I try not to watch the Discovery Channel."

"There's stuff they know a little about, like gravity and matter and - stuff. But there's all this energy they can't find. Dark matter, I think they call it. I think magic's part of what the universe is made of. It exists, but it's dissipating. Or maybe there just aren't as many sentient beings around these days who can use it."

"Seems like you vampires might be responsible for some of that."

"Maybe," she agreed. "But in the old days most people had access to some kind of magical sensitivity. Many people were so powerful that they were acknowledged as G.o.ds. There was a G.o.ddess who lived among a nomadic people, a very long time ago.

She was immortal - always young, always beautiful. She found a way to share her immortality with her people. Every decade or so there would be a gathering of her whole tribe. During a secret ceremony she would open her veins and let her blood flow into an elixir she made out of herbs and wine. Then her priests and priestesses would pa.s.s chalices of this sacred wine among the people.

The elixir added to their lifespan, cured sickness. It was a great gift from the G.o.ddess to the people she loved. But people are stupid, selfish, and incredibly greedy."

"That's the truth," Haven agreed. They were sitting at a stoplight. He would have run it, but they were in a center lane, surrounded by far too many cars for the Jeep to clear. "Why are we driving to the hotel?" he asked Valentine. "You could have gotten there on your own power long before now."

"I've never taken up the vampire sport of running," she answered. "Besides, I need to be in an enclosed s.p.a.ce for a while." She touched the door frame and ran a hand across the pa.s.senger side window. "Flimsy as this box of metal and gla.s.s is, I find being inside walls comforting. It's a rough night, you don't want me getting panicky on you."

"Point taken," he told her. "That why you need to talk so much? To help keep it together?"

"Yes."

The light changed and he pressed down on the gas. "Then keep talking, sister."

"All right. How much further?"

Haven squinted, concentrated hard on the street. "Hard to tell. It keeps seeming farther away - then closer. Like a mirage. And don't tell me that we've already pa.s.sed the Mirage."

"I did notice the volcano going off as we drove by. Don't you love the surrealistic nature of this town? About the G.o.ddess,"

Valentine went on.

Haven noticed the glint of a small silver pendant hanging on a chain around Valentine's neck, resting just above the V-neck of her black dress. The pendant was a tiny figure of a bare-breasted woman in a long belled skirt. The woman was holding a pair of snakes. Valentine touched the figure when she noticed him looking. "That the vampire G.o.ddess?" he asked.

"No," she answered. "The Lady of Snakes is someone else's G.o.ddess. To continue the vampire G.o.ddess's tale, somebody in her priesthood came up with a truly stupid idea. Not satisfied with a long, healthy life, the priests decided they wanted to be immortal too. So, they figured that if drinking a few drops of the G.o.ddess's blood was so beneficial, imagine what consuming the G.o.ddess would do for them. They decided to kill and eat her."

Haven didn't shock easily, but this rattled him. "How do you kill a G.o.ddess?" he asked.

"Very good question. One this ancient priesthood apparently didn't consider. What they did involved the darkest form of magic.

They had a lot of power between them, and used it to bespell specially forged silver daggers."

"That's where the Enforcer blades come from?"

"I suppose the traditional weapon of the Enforcers comes from the old legends," she answered. "The priesthood used their magic knives to kill the G.o.ddess. They drank her blood, ate her flesh. Reveled in the l.u.s.t of killing."

"Then they turned into vampires."

"Not yet. I bet you were a b.u.g.g.e.r to tell bedtime stories too."

Haven could not recall anyone ever having told him bedtime stories. He had not had that kind of a childhood. "Go on," he told Valentine.

"G.o.ddesses cannot be killed," she said. "Not even by the darkest of black magic. But they can be p.i.s.sed off."

"I bet.""This G.o.ddess returned from the supposed dead and laid a curse on her rebellious followers."

"That's when they became vampires?"

"Yes. Instead of granting them the gift of immortality, she turned immortality into a curse. They were banished from the daylight.

Sunlight was a gift for the mortal world. They were given the constant hunger to hunt and kill the mortals they could not dwell among. They must take lovers that they could not keep. Having your heart constantly broken is part of the curse." She sighed.

"Anyway, that's how vampires came to be."

"Okay." He finally came to the entrance to the hotel grounds he'd been looking for. "How do Nighthawks come into all this?" He bypa.s.sed the front entrance to the Silk Road and pulled into the parking garage.

As he pulled into a parking spot, Valentine answered, "That, Mr. Haven, is another story."

They didn't have time for more stories. They got out of the Jeep and Haven opened up the back. He opened up the locked metal case where he kept his weapons stash.

"Impressive," Valentine commented as he gathered equipment.

"Thanks. You want any of this?" he questioned as he loaded concealed pockets and strapped on an equipment belt.

"No, thanks."

"Fine." He shut the case, and slammed the rear door. He paused for a moment, and something that was not fear, but was frighteningly disturbing, rushed like wildfire all the way through him. He let the reaction pa.s.s - made it pa.s.s.

He looked at Valentine. "Ready to rock?" She didn't look all that confident herself, but she did smile at him, with an impressive amount of fang showing. "Let's go."

Chapter 18.

"SOMETHING'S WRONG.".

Haven gave her a wry look, but Valentine could tell he felt it too. There was more than residue and potential magic in the air. There was more than the humming, harsh energy spun off by hordes of gamblers in the casino. There was more than the uneven, tinkling music of the slot machines.

"It's hot," she said.

He stood very still for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Air-conditioning's working hard to compensate. Heat a by-product of the magic?"

"Good thought."

They were standing in the center of the lobby, beneath a dome beautifully painted to show the night sky. Mortals were all around them, going about their business. They stood by the front desk, gathered in the furniture groupings set under draping silk canopies.

She could detect mortals everywhere, in their rooms, the casinos, the bars, the restaurants, the spas and shops, in the kitchens and corridors. She detected dormant and injured energy coming from the cash vault, the money cages, the security centers. Not a vampire was stirring, which at least meant that she and Haven wouldn't have to fight off any crazed hunting vampires while they sought out the real source of trouble.

Too many of the underneath world worked in the hotel, she thought. This kept the place secure from mortal attack. It would likely stop another vampire incursion as well. It was proving horrifically vulnerable in the face of a magical a.s.sault.

"Where's Ibis?" Valentine wondered, searching for the psychic signature of a strong, ancient vampire. Nothing. Why wasn't he here to protect his people?

"What are we waiting for?" Haven interrupted her mental search.

She brought her focus back to the tough mortal. "Patience is not your strong point, is it?"

"Is it yours?" was his reply.

"No," she had to admit. She'd always been too impulsive.

"Where to?" he asked.

"Give me a second." Valentine concentrated on finding the strongest source of magic, hunting through layers and waves of energy.

Mortal emotions, vampire energy signatures. She encountered all sorts of scents and gradations. "Three sources," she finally told Haven.

"You've been here before?" He nodded. "Good. Tell me what you know." She pointed in one direction.

"Vampire museum is that way," he answered.

"Okay. What's coming from there is mostly latent stuff. Not a threat zone, then." She pointed again.

"Uh, saw video screens on this area. Storage rooms, dressing room, I think. The stage magician's place."

"Heat source coming from there," Valentine said. She shuddered as she drew her mind away from the energy. Heat raced up her skin. She pushed away suspicion for now. "We're going to have to check that out."

She concentrated on the third source of magic, pointed again. There was shielding around this source, but full of pinp.r.i.c.k holes that let power leak out.

"Theater," Haven said. "Magic show in there."

"Real magic show tonight," she answered. "Real magician. He's weaving spells. I think we've found the cause of the trouble."

Haven's dark eyes suddenly lit with excitement. "Yes! I should have figured this out already. It's the magician. The vampire gave the spell book to the magician." He looked totally disgusted. "I'm an idiot. Murphy wanted to get the book back from him, but I didn't think it was important."

Valentine remembered there'd been mention of translated spells as well as the scrolls when Haven told them about Martina's plot against the Enforcers. "I thought Martina had the translations."

"I was there when a vampire gave the spell book to the human magician. Reese. The guy who does his act here in the hotel."

"Why would a vampire give up a spell book?"

"It had something to do with s.e.x," Haven answered. "Gifts to a new boyfriend. It was stuff taken from the museum. There was the book, a gold cup, and - "

Valentine watched as the mortal's deeply tanned skin went pale. "What else?" she demanded, deeply worried by this fearless man's startling reaction."There was a gemstone. Looked like a ruby. Murphy called it a dragon's egg. Said it's used in alchemy."

Valentine felt her knees go weak. She would have very much liked to sit down. Or better yet, run away. Her throat constricted with momentary panic. Then she managed to say. "Dragon's egg. Oh. f.u.c.king. s.h.i.t."

We are so screwed, she thought. If it's real. But it can't be real, because Ibis is not a fool. He couldn't possibly have put out a "What is it?"

"Come with me," she said, and marched in the direction of the theater.

They cut through the casino, and wove through heavy foot traffic in a shopping mall designed to look like an exotic bazaar, with narrow lanes and closely packed vendors' stalls. Beyond the mall three corridors met in a wide open area before the theater entrance. Valentine paused before the theater doors and rubbed her chin.