"How will I know when I'm in the clear?"

"We have somebody looking into it. He's a very smart scientist and a member of our...community."

"Another vampire?"

"Yeah. I have a lot of confidence in him. He can get to the bottom of this if anybody can. Since you 're on vacation this week anyway, why don't you just lay low in your apartment?"

"So I won't spread it to anybody else, you mean," she said, and blanched. She might not have been afraid for herself, but I could tell she was afraid for people she might have come in contact with since she met Sullivan.

"Yeah. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything from Gerard. In the meantime, I guess we can at least be grateful that Sullivan didn't show any signs of being sick before he was killed."

Connie propped her elbows on the table and clasped her head in her hands. "I feel like my head's about to explode with all I've seen and everything you've told me tonight. I still have so many questions."

"And I'll give you all the answers I can. I promise. But it has to wait for another night. The sun's almost up."

"So you have to go to sleep," she said. "In a coffin."

I nodded without saying anything about the coffin. I could tell by her guarded expression that for my sake she was trying to tamp down her revulsion. At least she was polite. "I'll be sleeping on the couch in the office with the door locked since I don't have time to get home before sunup. Light can't get in there."

"Before I go, I have to know one more thing."

I took a deep breath, knowing exactly what she would ask, but not knowing what I should tell her.

"What happened between us that night, Jack? What happened when we tried to make love?"

"I don't know. If I did, I'd tell you. Honest."

"I don't believe you." So much for vampires being good liars.

I licked my lips, which had gone completely dry. "I think it has to do with what I am...and what you are."

"What do you mean, what I am? Do you mean a human being and a vampire can't make love? What about William and that friend of his-Eleanor?" she said.

Eleanor-still another story for another night. "That's not it. A human and a vampire can get it on. Usually."

"So why didn't it work for us?"

Her eyes searched mine. Any more attempts on my part to hide the truth were unthinkable.

"You know how Melaphia thinks you're special."

"Yes. She seems to think I'm a-a psychic or something, I don't know. I can't relate to all that voodoo stuff."

"She thinks you're somehow more than human."

"More than human? What's that supposed to mean? What am I, Jack?"

"If I understand her right, she says you have certain...powers, or gifts, I guess you could call them."

Connie looked at me like she wanted to throw a vampire-size b.u.t.terfly net over my head and haul me to the state mental hospital in Milledgeville. "Uh-huh?" she prompted.

"And she also thinks whatever you are, well, it doesn't mix with vampires. Kind of like oil and water."

Connie cast her gaze about the room, thinking back to what had happened. "There was some sort of a reaction, wasn't there? It was almost chemical or electrical or something. Remember?"

h.e.l.l yes, I remembered. I almost went up in flames because of the contact I 'd had with her. If it hadn't been for Melaphia's healing voodoo charm I might have vaporized.

"Yeah," I said. "I remember."

"So does Melaphia know what I am?"

"Not exactly. She's trying to figure it out. " That much was true. As far as I knew, Mel had not closed the book on her investigation. I figured there was no use in telling Connie that Mel 's working theory was that she might be a Mayan G.o.ddess. I mean, what did you do with information like that anyway? Traipse down to Belize to find your roots? Enroll in a Learning Annex "Get in Touch with Your Inner G.o.ddess" course? Melaphia would be a lot better at explaining it than I would, so I decided to let it slide. "In any case, she doesn't think you're a hundred percent...well...human."

"Not human! Not human?" Disgusted, Connie got up from the table and stalked away to retrieve her purse.

I hurried after her, realizing I'd stumbled across the line, the line between what she could handle and what she couldn't, at least for one night. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I know you've been hit with a lot of stuff tonight. Stuff that's hard to get used to."

Connie bit off a hysterical laugh. "That's the understatement of the century. And you ought to know about not being human, right, Jack?"

"Try not to let it upset you." I started to tell her some of the nicest people I knew weren't human-like Huey, for instance-but I had a feeling that claim might add insult to injury. "You tell me I'm some inhuman creature and I'm not supposed to be upset?" Connie slung the straps of her bag over one shoulder, pulled her coat close around her, and started toward the door. After a few steps, she turned around and pointed at me.

"Why should I even believe you? You're not human yourself."

"Because I care about you. If you don't believe anything else I've told you tonight, believe that. Please."

She was shaking now, at the very end of her endurance. I wanted to hug her to my chest until she stopped trembling, but I knew that would be the wrong thing to do.

She stared at me for what seemed like minutes, as if she was trying to reconcile what she 'd learned about me tonight with her feelings about me-whatever they were. Then, finally, she said, "None of this is real. You're...not...real."

Connie turned and walked out, leaving me and my unreal and undead self staring after her. Wondering if I would ever see her again and if I did, whether it would be at the business end of a wooden stake.

Fourteen.

William The ringing of the telephone interrupted our meeting. Another modern invention I was sure caused more irritation than good.

"What did you do to him?"

Diana's savage voice sent a shock of surprise through me, not only because she'd managed to find me at Isle of Hope through questioning my household, but also because I was convinced that she'd be at my throat if we'd been physically facing each other. I wasn't in the mood for her anger. I had enough of my own.

"What are you talking about?"

"Will," she hissed. "Our son. I trusted you-"

"Don't speak to me of trust. Will has killed one of ours. I have a perfect right to do what I wish with him. Where is he?" I had no intention of revealing that I'd seen him return to the plantation with my invisible eyes. The sh.e.l.ls would remain my secret. I told myself I'd brought them along when I left Houghton Square as a precaution. Yet I'm not really sure.

"He's here-" Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat to recover. "He's injured. I'm not sure how. He can't remember.

He's weak and disoriented. I've never seen him like this." She regained her anger. "What happened to him last night?"

What happened, indeed? He'd killed Sullivan. Sullivan had come from California and had been the last remaining living human companion of the California clan. Could it be possible? Could Will have contracted the plague?

I dredged up my coldest tone, both for my own protection and the benefit of my audience. "Perhaps you should be more concerned about the damage he's done. I'll be there in thirty minutes. Stay put, all of you, or face open war." I hung up before she could reply.

"What is this new emergency?" Lucius asked.

"Our hostage seems to have sickened," I said, keeping my face perfectly blank.

"The one who killed Sullivan?" Iban asked, then continued without requiring an answer. "Let him rot."

A potent threat since Iban had so recently been doing that very thing. I faced him. "Unfortunately, I can't."

Warily, Lucius took the bait. "And why not?"

Without looking directly at Iban I admitted the truth. "Because he's my son, my mortal son whom I lost in my making."

There was a deafening silence in answer to my p.r.o.nouncement, then Iban jumped to his feet. "And what of my friend, one who was like a son to me? The last of my clan?" His hands fisted, he crossed the room in my direction. "Where is his justice?" Before I could answer, Gerard and Lucius had flanked Iban, each taking an arm to keep him from attacking me.

"Come now, Iban," Lucius said, in a voice one might use to calm a suicidal jumper balanced on the edge of a roof. "You're not yourself. Don't make William separate your newly healed head from your shoulders. It would hurt like the devil and ruin this lovely rug."

Iban's expression crumpled into tired despair. He was one more being I'd disappointed in the last few tumultuous days, but I could not allow Will to rot without any effort to save him. I also could not divide the loyalties of my allies over my personal problems.

I faced Lucius. "You're right about my objectivity. So, with you two as my witnesses-" I gestured toward Iban and Gerard.

"-I hand over the leadership of the New World vampires to you. Save as many as you can." I turned to Gerard. "As a friend, I ask you to come and see to my son. None of them will harm you as long as I live."

"Of course," he answered. "Not only for your sake but for all our sakes. We must contain this plague if he has in fact been infected." He gently shook Iban's arm. "I suggest you get some badly needed rest. We will need you before this is over."

Iban nodded, and Lucius took charge of settling him into a guest coffin. In fifteen minutes, Gerard and I were hurtling down the tree-lined lane of the plantation.

I knew as I paced up the front steps that this house, once my haven, would never look the same to me now after seeing Diana here, in the flesh. The memory of her would forever haunt me and this place, regardless of the outcome.

Hugo blocked the entrance, another strike against my former residence. I wasn't in the mood to play vampire games.

"This is my home, therefore I don't need to be invited in," I said before brushing past him. "Besides, your...mate has called for my a.s.sistance."

"Your wife," he said, stopping me in my tracks.

At that moment Diana paced into the room, looking angry and worried. Gerard gave Hugo and me a wide berth and went to Diana. "Where is the patient?" he asked. Diana looked at me.

"This is Gerard. He's a doctor, a scientist," I explained.

She hesitated only a moment before nodding. "This way," she said, and led him from the room. I wanted to follow and to see Will with my own eyes. But there was still Hugo to deal with.

Shuttering my thoughts, I helped myself to a cognac from the sideboard. As I did I noticed two used gla.s.ses sitting on top of the polished surface. A sniff told me they held the dregs of my best Lafite Rothschild Bordeaux. It had oxidized to the color of dried blood.

"I see you've made yourself at home in my home," I said.

Hugo moved up behind me, and it took a great deal of concentration not to whirl and face him. He chuckled as though he could read the distrust in my mind. Then he held up a clean gla.s.s to be filled.

"Yes, we've both enjoyed your hospitality. Your wife is especially fond of the bathtub in the master suite. There 's nothing she likes better before a good f.u.c.k." He sighed loudly as I poured the cognac. "I'm afraid we may have ripped some of your sheets and curtains in our eagerness. Feel free to send me a bill."

I managed to keep my hand steady enough not to clang the bottle against the fragile rim of the Waterford goblet. Hugo smiled and raised the gla.s.s in a mocking toast before taking a deep swallow.

I hoped he choked on it. Sipping at my own drink, I wondered at his composure. Diana had been frantic over Will 's injury but Hugo did not betray any worry. Perhaps he was better at hiding his feelings. Then I remembered what Will had said about Hugo hoping that I would kill him. "You don't seem very put out by Will's condition," I said. "Not like, as you say, my wife."

"You're right, I don't have an opinion about him. If there's a question you wish to ask me, ask it. Otherwise, deal with her."

Was there a question? I spoke before thinking.

"Do you love them?"

Hugo had just taken another gulp of cognac, and upon hearing my question had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from spraying the room. After swallowing he went into a coughing-laughing fit that nearly brought him to his knees.

"By Christ! Do I what?" he mimicked as he tried to catch his breath.

"Love them," I persisted, having no clue why I expected him to answer truthfully.

My determination seemed to chase all the humor from the room. He straightened, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and glared at me. "I own them. That's enough."

"What do you mean-"

"William." Gerard interrupted. He was standing in the hallway door, a dark expression on his features. "It's the plague," he stated.

My throat closed. It was one thing for Will to be killed in an all-out vampire free-for-all, fighting on his own two feet. It was quite another to watch him rot. For a moment I was too shocked to speak, but Hugo reacted instantly. He tossed away his half -filled gla.s.s.

"Get Diana away from him!" he ordered, and headed for Gerard.

I grabbed his arm as he pa.s.sed me and sent my own gla.s.s in the same direction as his. "How do you know she's in danger?"

There, I'd finally thought of a pertinent question.

Hugo made to twist away but I shoved him backward and followed the momentum. "Vampires are immune to disease, as I'm sure you're aware. What do you know about this particular sickness?"

"He wasn't supposed to get it, only deliver it," Hugo growled before grappling with my hold. Gerard ran across the room and the two of us held Hugo immobile. "He was sent to California. Not here. He wasn't supposed to bring it here! Get her out of there!"

A high keening wail filled the room, so shrill that every crystal gla.s.s on the sideboard exploded into shooting stars of broken gla.s.s.

"No!" Hugo gasped, forcing me to turn and see what he was facing. The screech had come from Diana. Her face was transformed into a killing mask, her mermaidlike hair floating around her head on an invisible tide. She cast about for a weapon and wrapped her fingers around the fireplace poker. Another furious screech burst forth from her and the gla.s.s panes in the front door shattered as she launched herself in our direction. I braced myself for her attack, but a fraction of a second before she reached us I realized Diana was staring at Hugo, aiming at Hugo, with hatred so pure it hit all three of us like a lightning strike. Gerard and I were knocked to the floor by the collision. But Hugo remained a few feet off the carpet pressed against the wall, held prisoner by Diana's will.

"It was you who poisoned my son?"

The poker sank into his chest and penetrated the wall behind him with a crunch. Plaster rained down around the two of us on the floor. Hugo gasped in pain but made no effort to save himself. Floating in front of him, Diana went silent, and if possible, looked even more deadly. She yanked the poker free, tearing his flesh with the hooked end, and plunged it back in, this time into his stomach. He choked and coughed up blood, which soaked the front of his shirt. Held immobile, he managed to move his fingers but little else.