I caught my breath as she tightened her fingers in just the right places. Then I lowered my mouth to her neck and used my hand to unfasten her blouse, intending to get her out of it. She stopped me by framing my face with her palms and pushing my chin up.

"Thank you for saving Will," she whispered, gazing at me as if I'd hung the moon. The intense appreciation I saw in her eyes warmed my cold heart. But another disturbing thought followed on the heels of her emotion.

"I don't want your grat.i.tude," I managed. It was a lie. I wanted anything she would be willing to give. Most of all, I still wanted her love, her body, and a few thousand years of her future. All or nothing. Hugo be d.a.m.ned.

"You have it, just the same. Now I'd like to do something for you."

I touched her lips with mine. "I thought that's what we were about just now."

"Not lovemaking. Not just yet."

Now I was completely puzzled. With her hand still resting on my nether parts she was-"You're not saying no to me," I said in disbelief.

She smiled. "No, not really. I'm saying...soon."

I must admit she still knew how to try my patience-or was that, whet my appet.i.te? "What the devil are you talking about?"

She drew in a long, slow breath, then lowered her lashes. Removing her hand from my pulsing c.o.c.k she brought it up to sweep her sweet-smelling hair off one shoulder to expose her pale, graceful neck. "I want you to bite me. Feed from me."

Too shocked to answer, I stared at the velvety skin.

Looking up at me, she continued, "If we make...love, you'll lose power. I want to help you regain what you lost by feeding Will.

By saving him...Take my power now instead of offering me yours. I need you stronger, not weaker."

Her hands were around my neck again, pulling me downward. "I want you to, I-" She moaned as my fangs found their mark.

I might have moaned as well but my mouth was too busy, sucking, savoring. She tasted of cool breezes and of honey mead. But most of all, she tasted of home.

Jack By the time I'd gotten Sullivan into one of the suits from the wardrobe William kept at the plantation and had fitted him into the handsome oak coffin, the human guests-namely Tilly and Connie-had arrived. Rennie had dug the hole during the day.

William had gotten there, too, and had successfully calmed Iban down. When Sullivan was ready, Iban asked for some time alone with him, so Lucius went off to make some phone calls to the New York colony. William engaged Tilly in a battle of wills over whether she would allow him to carry her to the grave site since it was a long way to walk. Werm had shown up and was talking to Gerard. That left me to entertain Connie.

She was beautiful in black. "Thanks for coming," I said. I remembered what Sullivan had said about her being hung up on me, and for a few seconds I forgot I wasn't alive.

"Thanks for asking me." She looked around nervously at the other vampires, not meeting my gaze. I guess there was no use looking a creature you didn't think was real in the eyes. "Are you sure I'm safe here?" "Yeah, you're safe. These are civilized vamps and even if they weren't, I'm here to protect you. And I found out you weren't exposed to that virus after all, so you're safe on all counts."

"Thank G.o.d," she said, visibly relieved. "How is Iban?"

"Physically, he's much better. That guy I told you about-the scientist-figured out a cure and it worked. Emotionally, he's pretty torn up. Sullivan was his best friend."

Connie nodded. Inclining her head toward William and Tilly, who were still in an intense debate, Connie said, "What's with those two? Is she a vampire?"

I chuckled. "No, although she's always had that as an option if she wanted. She's William's oldest mortal friend. They were quite an item about seventy years ago. He still dotes on her. Right now he 's fussing about her standing out in the cold for the funeral."

"They had an affair?" Connie's tone sounded forced, as if she was trying to sound casual about something serious.

I looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to open her heart to me, if not in words then in feeling. "They had a grand affair after he killed her b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a husband. William treated her like a queen. He offered Tilly eternity, but she turned him down. He never went against her-in anything. To this day, her wishes are his command. Let me tell you this about vampires: We're powerful and hard to kill. So is our loyalty-our love."

Connie's dark eyes smoldered. "Demons can love?"

"Don't ever doubt it."

She nodded, but I couldn't tell what she was feeling. She was keeping her emotions to herself.

The double doors to the parlor opened and Iban came through, eyes streaming with tears. William, Lucius, and Gerard went to his side to serve as pallbearers of Sullivan's closed coffin.

Connie put her hand to her mouth and her eyes swam with tears. Then, remembering, she turned to me. "Did you kill the monster who did this like you promised?"

"No," I admitted. How could I tell her I had to go back on my word to her in order to try to salvage my rocky relationship with my sire? "I can't. It's complicated," I said lamely.

"That seems to be your answer to a lot of hard questions." Connie's eyes clouded. "Well, if I have powers of my own, as you say, I suppose I'll just have to use them and learn how to kill vampires myself, won't I?"

With that, she turned on the heels of her smart black pumps and followed the others out the front door and toward the cemetery.

Just when I sensed Connie was learning to deal with the fact that vampires exist and I am one, just when I thought I might be making progress with her, I was back to being worse off than I was before I 'd owned up to being undead. But that's not what caused a shudder like a jolt of electricity to pulse through me at her last words. Something about the thought of Connie using her powers to kill my kind gave me a sense of dread greater than I'd ever gotten from Reedrek or Hugo, or, h.e.l.l, anything in almost a hundred and fifty years. I'd just introduced her to nearly every vampire I knew.

I tried to shake it off, but as I went to join the others in the boneyard, I got a premonition that hard times for bloodsuckers had only just begun.

Eighteen William The night seemed to be holding its breath: No breeze rustled inland from the ocean, no rolling cold front spread down from the northwest. There was only silence and the cold, still, breath of death.

And the watchers: Spirits drawn by this gathering of mourners unconcerned by our lack of heartbeat or warmth.

"Sullivan-creditworthy companion, mortal compatriot, faithful son to Iban-is dead." I spoke to the group gathered along the hastily dug grave site with Iban standing next to me.

The rest were scattered among the moldering stones: Lucius, Gerard, Jack, Lamar, and the mortals, Connie and my dearest Tilly. Eleanor refused to be present, remaining apart from me and my faithlessness. The others missing were not welcome here: Hugo, Diana, and the murderer, Will.

"His death is a mark against us all. In a few short weeks we have lost more kin than at any time in our New World history. We must look to one another for strength now, no matter past grudges." I could feel Iban's simmering gaze. He knew I was speaking to him most of all.

"We have no clergy to officiate. For Sullivan though, I would quote Dylan Thomas, one human who also spent too few years in this world: "Old age should burn and rave at the close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

I leaned toward Iban. "Do you have something you'd like to add?"

He seemed to be making a great effort to guard his emotions. "What I would say would be no comfort to anyone here, least of all to Sullivan. I'll not taint his memory with an argument over his corpse."

I nodded. Iban had a right to his anger, and I knew we'd be revisiting the subject of Sullivan's murder soon. I left his side and went to Tilly. Slipping an arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, I lifted her. "You're as light as a feather," I said, doing my best to push back my alarm at her frailty. I knew it would not be long until she asked me for her last wish. I wasn't ready to speed her pa.s.sing, to let her go.

She sighed. "One can never be too rich, or too thin," she said. "But one can be too old."

"I'll always be older than you by half a millennium," I answered in my usual banter. We'd had this discussion many times in the last fifty years. In the first twenty of our acquaintance we'd been unconcerned and too busy to fret over the future. "Do you wish to stay with us this evening?"

"No, I think not." We'd reached the house by this time, and I set her on her feet. She patted my chest. "Funerals make me tired." Then she walked over to where Iban was in conversation with Jack. They seemed to have a lot to talk about. Tilly stepped up to Iban and embraced him. "No more sorrow, no more pain," she whispered into his ear. He nodded and looked deeply in her eyes for a moment. Then he slipped an arm around her and walked her toward the front of the house and to her waiting car.

Part of me was glad to see her go. The rest of us had unhappy business to discuss and there was a good chance it could come to blows. I went to Jack.

"Thank you for arranging this." It would've been inappropriate for me to have set up the funeral for the mortal my son had killed.

Jack looked surprised by my statement, but he recovered quickly. "Yeah well, I kinda felt responsible and I-"

"Yes, and you're used to dealing with human remains."

"If you mean I have a little more respect than to leave them behind like empty beer cans, then, yeah, you're right."

His belligerence actually brought a smile to my face. It felt like coming home. Comforting, after having my world turned upside down like a ship rolled by a rogue ocean wave. I'd survived the tipping, but now the only thought filling my head was for...Diana.

The memory of her taste made my jaws ache for more.

I looked over Jack's head toward the small family cemetery. Connie had stayed behind, as far away from us as possible. I couldn't blame her. She stood out among us like a lamb among lions. "I think you should have your police-woman go home. What happens here may be more than her courage can take."

Jack flinched. "Not her courage. She's already seen the worst of us in action, thanks to that rat-b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Will. I'll send her on her way in case she goes all Dirty Harriet on us-"

"And we have to kill her as well."

His features settled into a scowl. "That isn't what I meant." Instead of arguing further, he paced off the porch in her direction.

I had no time or intention to kill Connie, but I couldn't be sure of the others. "Jack?" He stopped and turned, hands braced on hips.

"What?"

"Remember, Will is contained but Hugo is still out there. If we learned anything from Reedrek, it 's that our loved ones are in danger. Make sure she knows that."

Jack nodded briskly and continued across the yard.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. "William-I mean, sir?"

"Yes, Lamar?" When I turned to face Werm he blanched as though I might strike him and his features went slightly transparent at the edges. I considered the disappearance of the spiked hair an improvement.

"I was just wondering, I mean-How is Will? Jack told me he was sick and I-I can't ask him again 'cause he's so mad-"

"Will is fine now," I answered, but the mere mention of his recovery shifted my thoughts once again to Diana and my promised reward. I could only call it an obsession. Paradise awaited me at home and I could barely contain my exhilaration. She would finally be mine again after- "Do you think I could pay him a visit? I mean, I know he's vicious and all but he won't hurt me. We're buddies."

Was that how everyone saw my son? Like a rabid animal out of control? No wonder they wanted him dead. Before I could answer I heard Iban's voice, as though he'd read my mind.

"That dog needs no 'buddies,' as you say. He'll be dead soon." "Iban, please-" He walked past us into the darkness toward Sullivan's still-open grave.

Werm looked ready to bolt. "Go ahead," I said. "He's at my house on Houghton." Before he walked away I added, "And Werm-don't tell him about Iban's vendetta. I hope to change his mind."

"Yes sir."

Jack Now that Tilly was on her way back to town, Connie was the only human left. She stood at graveside alone, as if she didn 't know what she should do next. By the time I reached her side, Iban was there, too, staring abjectly into his friend's open grave.

"If only I could talk to him once more," he said, his voice breaking.

"Uh," I began. "I don't know if you know this, but I can talk to dead people. I'd be glad to be the go-between if you want. Kind of like...an interpreter."

Iban blinked. "Yes. Yes, please, Jack. That would be so meaningful to me." He thought for a moment. "Where do I begin?

Sullivan, I want to thank you for everything you did for me through the years. For the friendship, the acceptance, the understanding.

The...courage. Few men are brave enough to look a demon in the eye, see what goodness there may be in him, and call him friend."

I glanced at Connie to see her reaction to Iban's words. She was staring at me, wide-eyed. Whether she was moved by Iban's statement or floored by my ability to communicate with the dead, I couldn't tell. "Sullivan says he can hear you," I said. "He says he blesses the day he met you in UCLA film school. He says he's glad he was taking night cla.s.ses."

Iban's laugh became a choked-back sob. "You bless the day we met, even though our friendship led to your premature death at the hands of a monster. I'm sorry, amigo, that I didn't protect you as I swore to do so many years ago. I did not maintain my vigilance on your behalf, and you paid the price with your precious mortal life."

"Sullivan says not to blame yourself. He says thanks to you he saw and did more than most humans would do in two mortal lifetimes."

Iban stared into the grave as if he could see through the solid wood of the coffin lid. "I vow to you that I will avenge you. I will suck your blood from the veins of your murderer and rend his flesh from his bones. That I swear upon my immortality."

"Thank you, old friend," I repeated for Sullivan. "Don't blame yourself. It was me who made the fatal mistake by letting down my guard. I knew what Will was. Don't risk your living death for me. You should get on with the rest of your existence. As we say in the movie business, that's a wrap. Adios."

"Vaya con Dios," Iban said through a sob. He stalked off in the direction of the house, but stopped after a few steps and walked back to us. He extended his hand to Connie, and when she took it, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it with a bow.

"Thank you for coming, my dear. I know it means a lot to Sullivan, and it means much to me as well."

Connie nodded. "I'm very sorry for your loss. I know you loved him." She glanced at me sidelong, her dark Latin gaze locked on mine. If I'd had a working heart, it would've been skipping like an old eight-cylinder in need of a tune-up. I know you loved him, I repeated in my mind. Her message was clear. She now believed what I'd told her: a demon can love. She'd seen it in Iban.

He nodded and released her hand. "Good-bye," he said. "I'm glad he had the friendship and company of a woman as beautiful and delightful as yourself in the last few days of his life."

"It was a pleasure to know him, if even for a few days." With a last courtly bow, Iban headed for the house again.

"Let me walk you to your car," I told her. I wanted to ask her if she was okay, but I thought better of it. She'd just faced down half a dozen vampires without flinching. On top of that she 'd found out I could talk to dead people and the dead people talked back. That alone would give someone a lot to think about. As soft as her expression had been just minutes ago, her eyes were getting flinty as she stared straight ahead. You could almost see the wheels of her mind turning at a thousand RPM.

"I'm glad someone has the b.a.l.l.s to go after that murdering monster."

I winced, feeling the jab just as she intended. "Like I keep telling you, me going after Will is complicated. It has to do with William and vampire politics, and someday I'll explain everything." But I could feel that something besides my fort.i.tude-or lack of it-was uppermost on her mind. "What are you thinking?" I asked her. "I mean really thinking."

By that time we were at her car. "I'm thinking about everything I've seen in the last few days. Most especially what I just saw and heard at this funeral. I'm thinking about your ability to talk to the dead, and about possibilities I never dreamed existed until now."

"What possibilities?" I asked. She got into her car and gave me a last, hard look before she started the engine.

"Do you think you could...interpret for me some time? There are a couple of people I have to contact. It's a matter of life and death."

"Yeah, I guess. What's the story?"

"It's complicated."

William The rest of us gathered in the living room. After moving Diana and Will into town the night before, I 'd had Chandler bring a group of professional cleaners into the plantation house to straighten out most of the mess while we slept through the day. The broken furniture had been removed and the holes in the walls and ceiling had been patched, although not repainted. Much as our group differences had been cut open but not healed.

I used my role as host to open the conversation. There were things I wished to say that had to be said quickly before Iban returned.

"Thanks to Gerard's brilliance, we believe we've found an antidote to the killing plague. In many ways it was a lucky thing the first strike landed in California-"

"Not so lucky for them," Lucius cut in.

I frowned him down. "It could have just as easily been delivered to New York." Then I addressed the group in general. "Have each of you heard from your respective kin in the last few hours?"

Gerard and Lucius nodded. "Iban also heard from Tobey and Travis. They're well and investigating the ma.s.sacre," Lucius said. I of course knew what had happened since Will had practically confessed. But this would be a very bad time to introduce that particular bit of information if I had any hope of keeping Will alive.