"What about your ranch in Marin? It's the most obvious way to find you."

Iban chuckled. "Ah, yes. But the ranch is being guarded well. Not only by my offspring but also by my fans. There are many who consider my movies the ultimate communication from another species."

"Don't tell me. They want to become vampires, right?"

"Some of them think they already are," Sullivan added. "There's a motorcycle group called the Midnight Riders. We used them in the movie Sun and Moon back in 2000. Ever since then, they've made it their mission to make sure Iban has anything he needs."

"And several things I don't need." Iban tsked and made a dismissive motion with his hand. "A gentleman simply cannot accept the kinds of...female gifts they offer on a regular basis. I propose that if I, pardon the expression, slept with every beautiful young woman they brought to my gate, I'd be a mere shadow of the vampire I am today.

"But enough about me," Iban went on. "What have you heard from the others?"

"I'm in communication with all but one of the colonies in North America. The representatives are on their way. By Sat.u.r.day evening, we should have a quorum."

"And what of your sire?"

I thought of Reedrek twirling in demon h.e.l.l and could almost hear the screams of his furious fear. If I 'd thought him dangerous before, he would be doubly so if he ever escaped his well-hidden tomb. "He's exactly where we put him. As Jack would say, he's dead without the possibility of parole."

"Do we know anything of those we may have to face?"

"Olivia has promised a report on Sat.u.r.day via satellite. She says she has a spy among one of the more remote clans. One that had some ties with Reedrek."

"Ugh." Iban put down his half-empty gla.s.s of blood. "Even his name puts me off my refreshment. I have my own sire to defy."

Iban fell silent and I knew he was thinking of the past and some of the horrible things that had been done to him in the name of his sire, Thanatos. "One battle at a time, my friend. Remember, we have allies in each other. None of us wishes to return to the bitter past. Our future remains here."

"Better to burn in h.e.l.l than deal with Thanatos." After a moment of silence, Iban worked to shake off his dark thoughts. He smiled at Eleanor. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to spoil the evening and our reunion with sinister business." He looked at me. "And where is Jack? I wanted Sullivan to meet him."

Jack I raced back to the garage right after sundown to see what Melaphia had been able to do with Huey. Her skill with manipulating the dead would make all the difference to Huey's future. I'd had a lot of time to think while I was tossing and turning in my box trying to sleep. Putting him back in the ground was a nonstarter. I mean, he was already dead, but reanimated. Burying him that way would be too gruesome even for me. And that's saying something.

There weren't too many good options. He'd make a h.e.l.luva sideshow act, but I didn't even know if there were any sideshows in this day and time. Besides, he didn't like to travel. I suppose I could pay somebody desperate enough to take him off my hands.

Maybe some poor family would be willing to put him up in the attic and call him their crazy uncle Huey. Crazy, smelly Uncle Huey.

I roared into an open bay and hopped out of the 'Vette. Rennie and the irregulars were standing around Huey, who sat calmly in a clean pair of coveralls. He was eating raw hamburger with a plastic spoon out of an old Tupperware container. I went around to face him, hoping for the best.

"Okay, boys," I said. "Is this wishful thinking on my part or does he look a lot better than last night?"

"His skin tone looks a lot more natural," Otis said. "Instead of being greenish gray, he just looks sallow, kind of jaundiced, like."

I didn't know Otis even knew the word, but jaundiced was a lot better than putrid. I'd take jaundiced any day of the week.

"What about you, Rennie? Think he'll pa.s.s for warm-blooded?"

Rennie adjusted his gla.s.ses and leaned forward, studying Huey carefully. "I was still here this morning when Melaphia came in and got to work on him. She took some nylon thread and sewed his flesh back together in places, so he's got a Frankenstein thing going on, but it's not too bad. She had all these roots and twigs and herbs and things that she sprinkled on him and then she chanted some and even danced a little. Before I knew it, he stopped stinking and kind of tightened up. The best part is, she says she thinks she's got it fixed where he won't decay any more than he already has."

"Wasn't there anything she could do for that there eyeball?" Rufus asked. Huey's eyes still looked like they belonged to one of those lizards that can look in several different directions at once.

"I reckon not," Rennie said.

"I could take a go at it," Jerry offered. "I took a mail order course in taxidermy one time. I've got some eight-pound test line in the truck, and if somebody can find a needle, I can try to-"

I held up my hand. "Huey's been through enough in the last twenty-four hours without throwing amateur eyeball surgery into the bargain. What do you think, Rennie? Is it okay with you if he comes back to work?"

"Fine with me," Rennie said. "I'll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't chow down on any customers."

It was decided that we would lock Huey in the garage during the day with all the raw meat he was likely to need and a cot in one of the oil pits to sleep on. I kind of liked the idea of him being there. It was the next best thing to having a guard dog. Let William have his prancy puppies. I had me a zombie that could match 'em pound for pound for loyalty, with opposable thumbs thrown into the bargain.

Satisfied, the irregulars migrated back to the card table and sat down to their game. I heaved a mammoth sigh of relief. Mel had saved my bacon. Again. Huey belched loudly. "Anybody got any ketchup?"

Somewhere around midnight I was changing a timing belt in a Dodge Caravan when I heard a familiar voice call my name in an aristocratic Spanish accent.

"Iban! You old dog," I said, wiping the grease off my hands with a shop rag. He grinned and walked into the garage, followed by a human guy I'd never seen before. The irregulars kept to their card game, a.s.suming the two men were customers.

I clapped Iban on the back and shook his hand. Iban was my favorite of William's imported European vamps. Even though he was richer than G.o.d just like the others, he had always treated me as an equal and never put on airs. He was good people. "You're a day or two early for the meeting, aren't you?"

"It's great to see you again, Jack. We came out early to get started on my next film. I want you to meet my friend and a.s.sociate, Sullivan Hayes. He's going to be doing some preproduction while I 'm meeting with you and William and the others at the conclave."

Sullivan and I shook hands. "Nice to meet you, Jack," Sullivan said. "Iban's told me a lot about you."

I guess Iban saw the question in my eyes. "Do not worry," he said. "You may trust Sullivan. He knows."

Now that was a shocker. The only humans besides the caretaker Chandler and my trusty partner Rennie that I knew who were hip to vampires were Melaphia and Renee and their foremothers, but that was their birthright. The only reason the irregulars knew I was a monster was because they were not 100 percent human themselves. I guess the surprise showed on my face, because Iban set about explaining things.

"Sullivan is my compadre," Iban said, emphasizing the foreign word.

"Uh, okay. Hey, I'm as open-minded as h.e.l.l," I said. "It's a free country, right? I'm all for gay rights."

Iban and Sullivan busted out laughing. "I a.s.sure you it's not like that, Jack," Iban said. "Sullivan is my 'trusted one.' You know, the same as Melaphia is for William. In Spain, we call them compadres."

I scratched my head, considering this. I had no idea that what Melaphia was had a name, that her relationship with William was some formal inst.i.tution in the vampire world. I'd always been a lone wolf, so to speak. I wondered what I'd do with a compadre.

And I also wondered how you managed to talk someone into becoming one. I mean, are you fishing with a guy one day or watching the game and drinking brewskies and all of a sudden say, Hey, buddy. Have I ever mentioned I'm an evil bloodsucker? How'd you like to maybe stand in line for me at the DMV? I've got a little problem with sunlight. It would turn me as crispy as fried pork rinds. There had to be a catch.

"Are you...enthralled?" I asked, feeling awkward.

Sullivan laughed again. "Just with the movie business. I'm not like Renfield in Dracula. No fly-eating for me. I help Iban in small ways because I choose to."

"And besides being a great compadre, he's a top-notch screenwriter. He wrote the screenplay for the movie we're working on now," Iban said.

"What's it about?" I asked.

Sullivan grinned and said, "The t.i.tle is Mask of the Vampire."

I looked from one of them to the other. "You're kiddin', right?" "Not at all," Iban said. "It's a story about a whole subculture of vampires who hide in plain sight. Ironic, no?"

Too close to home, is what I called it. It never ceased to amaze me how loosey-goosey some other vampires were with the thin veil between us and the human world. Still, the idea was intriguing: making a movie about our lives and calling it fiction. It had a delicious quality, like pulling the wool over people's eyes and getting away with something secret and satisfying. The part of me that loves mischief-and it's a big part-warmed to the idea.

"I like it," I told them.

"I'm glad to hear it," Iban said. "Because we want to hire you to help us scout locations for exterior shots."

"Me?"

"Sure. Who knows Savannah better than you, having lived here for more than two human lifetimes," Sullivan said.

"Me and my partner Rennie aren't all that busy right now, so why not? Sure. Count me in."

Iban beamed. "That's great. It'll be fun."

"What kind of locations are you looking for?" I asked them.

Sullivan said, "We're looking for atmosphere, atmosphere, and more atmosphere. Spooky cemeteries with lots of Spanish moss, foreboding old mansions, that sort of thing. I mean, it is a vampire picture, right?"

"You've come to the right place for that," I a.s.sured him.

"But unfortunately you haven't parked in the right place," a female voice said from near the entrance.

Sullivan and Iban had blocked my view of the door so I hadn't seen Connie approach, and I was so engrossed in the movie talk that I hadn't felt her presence. We all turned to face her.

I couldn't keep from staring. It's not like she was naked or anything, but I had seen her in the magnificent altogether just this morning. That's something else that had troubled my sleep. But what kept me staring at my coffin lid even more was that birthmark and the scar-and what they meant.

So many questions had gone through my mind. If Connie had a child, where was it? Maybe the baby hadn't survived, but if it had, was it with an ex-husband somewhere? The Connie I knew was too fierce to have given up her child without a fight. As I 'd lain sleepless, a feeling had begun in my chest-in my heart-as cold and dead as that was. The more I thought and wondered, the stronger the feeling had grown.

Connie had been in trouble at some point in her life. Perhaps she still was. And the fate of the child was at the center of the crisis.

I longed to ask her, to sit her down and make her tell me. Maybe I could help. Why the h.e.l.l did this vamp conclave have to be now? Everything was. .h.i.tting the fan at once. I wanted to monitor the situation with Connie. If what Melaphia discovered about her was too disturbing, Connie might need me. I just knew I could comfort her. If there was anyone on G.o.d's green earth who knew what a curse it was to be nonhuman in a human world, it was me.

Melaphia seemed to think that Connie and I were destined to be some kind of natural enemies. But my heart, whatever was left of it, wouldn't let me believe that.

Right now that little bit of heart was aching just looking at her. Her skin glowed with the radiance of life that another human being would take for granted. Not poor little undead me. Her hair shone like onyx in the garage 's fluorescent light. Her glance pa.s.sed over me as if I wasn't there, lit briefly on Iban, and then settled on Sullivan.

"Who does that rented Suburban belong to?" She jerked her thumb toward the outside. "It's parked against a yellow curb." "That would be mine," Sullivan admitted. He turned a dazzling smile on Connie, probably hoping to charm his way out of a ticket. I hoped that was all it was. I felt a p.r.i.c.kle of annoyance at the guy I'd started to like.

"Sullivan, Iban, this is Officer Consuela Jones. She likes to make sure folks around here keep to the straight and narrow," I said.

Connie's lip curled slightly and she glanced at my midsection as if she couldn't bring herself to look a miserable wretch like me directly in the eye. My breath went out of me a little at that, especially when her gaze returned to Sullivan.

"Pleased to meet you," she drawled, and offered her hand.

Iban shook hands, but Sullivan caught her hand and brought it briefly to his lips. I bit my lip and felt the sting of my own fangs.

Iban noticed, giving me a sideways glance. Sullivan didn't. I don't know how long he'd been a compadre, but he couldn't read vampires for s.h.i.t. Or maybe he just didn't care. He was under Iban's protection, after all, and he knew that I wouldn't be much of a host if I ate my friend's trusted human.

Sullivan had dark brown hair, kind of s.h.a.ggy in the back, and was very tanned and fit. He was too lean to be called buff, but was more athletic-looking. He wore faded jeans, a dark T-shirt, and a trendy sport coat. And he was looking at Connie with way too much interest.

"The pleasure's mine," he said. "Please forgive me for breaking one of the laws of your fair city."

"Are you from out of town, then?" Connie asked.

"They're from California," I said, hoping she would look at me again if I spoke up. I wasn't looking for a confrontation with her, but right then I'd do just about anything to get her away from Sullivan. I remembered her trying to get information about me out of Mel, and I got the feeling she wasn't here on police business. "I'm sure you're not here to catch traffic violators," I said. "Is there something you'd like to talk to me about?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. I hate to take you away from your guests, but is there a place we can talk privately for a minute?"

"Excuse us, guys," I said, and gestured toward the kitchen area.

When we'd cleared the card players and reached the kitchen, Connie came right out with it. "I've got to know what happened in my apartment the other night, Jack."

"I thought you said you were through with me," I said, trying not to sound peevish.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On what you have to say for yourself. And what you are."

A tiny spark of hope flared in my chest. Could she ever understand? "Listen, I want to confide in you, I really do."

"Then do it." Her eyes searched mine intensely. If I had a soul her gaze would be boring through it.

"I can't. It's not the right time." I needed time to prepare, to plan how to tell her, to think of what to say. Hey, babe, I know you're a cop and I'm a killer, but can't we work something out?

"It's now or never, Jack."

I sighed. "Connie, please-"

With a flash of her coal black eyes, she whirled around and stalked back to where Iban and Sullivan stood. I followed her, feeling helpless.

"You know," she said to Iban, "you look awfully familiar."

"They're in the movie business. This is Iban Cruz."

Connie still didn't look at me, but her eyes grew round. "The Iban Cruz?" She practically squealed. "I'm a huge fan of your movies! I thought you looked familiar." She tucked her ticket pad into her back pocket. Somebody was about to get off without so much as a warning. Or maybe just get off. I was thinking about issuing a warning of my own, but that was not an option. I had no claim on her. Not now.

Iban gave her his "aw shucks, twern't nothin'" routine. "We're in town doing some exterior shots for my next picture. It's set here in Savannah but most of the filming will be done on a Hollywood sound stage. Sullivan wrote the screenplay."

"Mask of the Vampire." Sullivan supplied the t.i.tle with an arched eyebrow.

Connie did squeal then. She actually squealed. "Ooh, I just love vampires. They're so s.e.xy. So...brooding."

What was this? She loved vampires? Now she told me. I glanced at Iban. He grinned and shrugged.

"The vampire is one of the most intriguing archetypes in literature and film, " Sullivan said. "They're seductive, pa.s.sionate, dangerous. What woman can resist them?"

"What woman could?" Connie agreed breathlessly.

I leaned toward Iban and whispered, "Stake me. Right now. I mean it."