"You got problems?"

"Yeah. You could say that."

"Why don't you run them by me? Sometimes it helps to talk to somebody." Huey leaned on his shovel thoughtfully.

I wondered how many vampires had a zombie as a therapist. What the h.e.l.l? Huey would probably be as good a sounding board as anybody. I told him the predicament and he listened as if he understood.

"That there's a hard one, Jack. Let me think." He scratched his chin sagely. "Do you think you could talk Connie into leaving Savannah?"

"That might work for a while, but some rogue vampire somewhere will eventually track her down. Besides, I don't know if I could convince her to go."

"What if she had a reason to go? And what if she changed her name and went to a place that was way back in the country or somewhere she was hard to find?"

I started to reply that I couldn't think of a reason she'd go to a hick town and change her name. But then it hit me that Huey was right. There was a way I could accomplish those things with one scheme.

But it would mean losing Connie and my child forever.

Speed helped me think, so I didn't go straight to my storage unit near Bonaventure Cemetery. Instead I raced along the back roads, close to the intracoastal waterways that snaked their way between Georgia's barrier islands and the tidal marshes fringing the sh.o.r.eline. Known as the inland pa.s.sage since the first European set foot on what would become Savannah soil, these water highways protected small craft from Atlantic nor'easters and tropical storms bubbling up from the Caribbean.

The waterways where Spanish traders and Franciscan friars used to travel now sported marinas boasting high-tech wireless Internet connections and digital TV at every slip.

As much as I loved fast cars, I now longed for the old days when I rode a black horse with silver-studded tack through the marshes. I used to scare the p.i.s.s out of night fishermen and anybody else who crossed my path, creating legends all my own. I was the stuff of children's nightmares and the star of young girls' dreams, or so I've been told.

Those were the good old days before I met Connie Jones.

When she was still a patrolwoman, she'd come upon me lying half in a ditch where I'd wrecked my car. Vampires never bother with seat belts. My injuries would have been lethal to a mortal human being, and yet to her astonishment I did survive. She'd had her eye on me ever since, a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind telling her that there was something strange about me.

In those months when she'd dogged me, her curiosity aroused, I hadn't wanted to discourage her attentions because I was drawn to her by another kind of arousal. If I could turn back the hands of time, I would have done things differently. Maybe if during one of the many times she'd stopped and ticketed me for speeding, I had scared her with my fangs or put some negative glamour on her, I might have frightened her away or discouraged her enough to leave me alone. But no, I encouraged her attentions, egging her on for my own selfish reasons.

Because of me, she had been led to the edge of an abyss, and one more step would give her the deadly knowledge that would put her on a b.l.o.o.d.y course of destruction-either mine or hers or both.

It was time for me to put my selfishness aside and do what needed to be done for her sake and for the sake of my child. But I couldn't do it alone. I needed the help of the only other man who I knew for sure loved her and would, I was convinced, lay down his life to protect her if need be.

My friend Seth. To whom I'd have to lie like a dog for this whole scheme to work. I couldn't let him know that Connie was pregnant, and I couldn't let him know that I'd almost killed her last night. All the explanations in the world about how it would have been best for her would not make a difference to Seth. If he knew I'd tried to kill Connie, he would try to kill me. There was no doubt in my mind.

When I got to the guarded storage unit where I spent my daylight hours, I found Seth asleep on the couch in sweatpants and a T- shirt. He had been bunking at my place since he came to town to shape up a wayward pack of werewolves before they got out of control and into trouble with the law.

I shook him, and he came awake as quickly as every good predator should. He blinked his yellow-green wolf's eyes at me expectantly and sat up. "What?" he said.

"We've got to talk," I said, sitting down next to him.

"Oh, man, I just hate it when a conversation starts that way. What did I do wrong, huh? Just tell me. It's my hair, isn't it?" He pawed his sleep-tousled brown mane. "I went running in the woods earlier tonight, so maybe I picked up some burrs. No, it's my b.u.t.t. It's too big."

"Shut up, doofus. This is serious."

Something in my tone convinced him. "Am I going to need coffee for this?"

"You're going to need whiskey for this, but it's too early for you and too late for me."

Seth cleared his throat. "This does sound serious." He eyed the kitchen area.

"Want me to make the coffee? I could use some myself," I said.

"No!" he said emphatically. "I've tasted your coffee. I'd sooner drink formaldehyde. I'm not immortal like you are, you know. I can be poisoned."

Seth ambled off to the kitchen, which was separated from the den by a Formica-covered bar. I followed him and sat down on one of the bar stools. "This is a long story," I began. "And you're just going to have to trust me that I know what I'm talking about."

"Okay," Seth said warily. He'd put the coffee and filter in place and was pouring the water into the coffeemaker's reservoir.

"Connie's in danger, and you have to help me get her away from Savannah."

Seth froze. "In danger from who?" "From me. And the other vampires."

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about, Jack? You love Connie. What the h.e.l.l's going on?"

As best I could, I explained about the prophecies, the birthmark, what happened in the underworld, all of it. I also laid out the reasons Travis said that trying to get her to hook up with the vampires to fight the bad guys wouldn't do any good. Of course I left out the part about Connie's pregnancy, the fact that I already tried to kill her, and what Melaphia and William had found out from Lalee.

"And so now William expects you to kill her, just like that." A murderous look came across Seth's face. He stalked the length of the small kitchen and back again, flexing his fists as if he would welcome the chance to destroy something with his bare hands.

"And if I don't do it-when I don't do it-one of the other vampires will." That last part was true, anyway.

"So you want me to take her away?"

"It's the only thing I can think of. I mean, do you have any other ideas?"

"Yeah. I could kill me half a dozen vampires," he said.

He was big, powerful, and lethal, but he couldn't take on all of us. "Even if you could-"

"Oh, I could."

"Even if you could," I insisted, "it's already too late for that. By this time all the European vampires know from Olivia that the Slayer is a Savannah cop named Consuela Jones. I even caught a vampire hanging around outside her apartment the other night.

Who knows how that guy found out? I'm telling you, she might as well have a bull's-eye on her back."

"Jesus," Seth muttered. "So when are you going to tell her?"

"Tomorrow night I'll tell her she's the Slayer."

"And how are you going to make her leave town with me?"

"Have you gone soft in the head or have you never tried to explain Connie why she has to do a thing?"

Seth looked at me dumbly and sighed. "Oh. Yeah," he said. "I forgot how stubborn she can be. And how incapable she is of backing down from a fight. We had a h.e.l.luva time keeping her out of the dominance fight with the werewolves that night."

"Yeah. She was ready to wade right in. Connie's got to have a good reason for leaving Savannah or there's no way in h.e.l.l she's going to go," I said, giving Seth a meaningful look that he could not mistake.

"Dude," he said. "She has her own feelings. You can't just give her to me, no matter how much you want to. No matter how much I wish you could."

There it was. The confirmation that he still loved her. As if I'd had any doubt. For an instant I hated him a little. "I'm going to break up with her," I heard myself say. "And then I want you to convince her that the reasons she came to Savannah in the first place are gone now."

"What do you mean exactly?" he asked, pouring a cup of coffee.

"It was you who told me she left Atlanta because of the murder-suicide, because everyone she knew, including you-especially you-pitied her. And she couldn't deal with people's pity. In the first place, you can take her back to Podunk County or wherever the h.e.l.l it is you're from, where n.o.body knows her. In the second place, she told me that what happened in the underworld- seeing her son in heaven and all-has helped her come to a kind of closure about what happened. So her head's in a better place about all that now. She's not running from it anymore. That's why I think you can get her to take you back when I'm out of the picture. She won't care that you know about what happened."

Seth handed me the coffee and poured a cup for himself. "That makes sense, I guess. So how are you going to break up with her?"

"Just leave that to me."

"Don't hurt her."

I gave him a murderous look. If only he knew what I'd been through in the last couple of days. "I'm going to do this the best way I know how."

"And what way is that?"

"Never you mind." We glared at each other over the coffee cups, resentment on my part and mistrust on his, simmering like redeye gravy that's about to boil over.

"When are you going to do this?"

"Tomorrow night. Be ready to...do your thing." The coffee tasted like battery acid in my mouth.

Seth regarded me soberly. "Seduce Connie, you mean?"

"Well, just, d.a.m.n. Did you have to say it out loud?" My nerves were stretched to the breaking point. I had to calm down. Maybe I should switch to decaf.

Seth stopped glaring and started looking all sorry for me. I don't know which was worse. "This must be killing you, Jack. I'm really sorry," he said.

"No, you're not," I said miserably. "You always wanted her back."

"Yeah, but not this way."

I looked at the ceiling. "Yeah, well, this is the way it is. You take her, make her fall for you again, change her name to Connie Walker, and hide her up there in the wilds of the north Georgia mountains so the vampires can't find her. Have a whole litter of fuzzy half-werewolf puppies or whatever you call them and live happily ever after."

"I should probably be insulted by part of that spiel, but I'll let it slide since you're in such bad shape."

"I'll live." I sighed.

He gave me a skeptical look.

"In a manner of speaking."

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but how are you going to convince her that you're not the man for her?" he asked.

I rubbed my chin, thinking about what I'd said just a minute ago. Then I snapped my fingers. "That's it. Why haven't I thought of that before?"

"Thought of what?"

"The puppies." "Seriously, man. That's a slur. Don't make me come over there and-"

I ignored him. "Has Connie ever mentioned wanting to have more children?"

"Not to me. Remember, she cut me out of her life right after the tragedy."

"But you just know she does, right? I mean, women are like that. They always want to have kids."

"I'm not following you."

"I can't have kids." I didn't make eye contact with him when I said this. I hoped like h.e.l.l he would never find out I was lying.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot that about vampires. You guys are shooting blanks."

"Talk about a slur." I sniffed.

"Sorry. So you think that if you tell Connie you can't give her a child, that will put her off the idea of a future with you?"

"That's what I'm saying."

"I don't think that will work."

"Why not?"

"For starters, she could just get artificially inseminated or something. There's all kinds of ways around that sort of thing nowadays."

"Okay. What do you suggest I tell her so that she'll fall out of love with me? I mean, I'm a hard man for a woman to get out of her system."

"Uh-huh. Gee, I don't know. You could start with being an evil, bloodsucking demon, that you'll never grow old while she will, that you'll never be able to go out in the daylight, that you'll never-"

"Oh-kay. I get it."

"But the best of those is the blood thing. It's just gross."

"She's already seen me go all fang-face on somebody."

"Yeah, but that was to defend her when Will killed Sullivan. How about in the Beauty and the Beast story? Not the Disney version, the real one. Where Beauty sees the Beast eating some animal that he's run down and killed and gets really grossed out."

I looked at him for a second. "Beauty and the Beast? How gay are you?"

"I'm just saying. And Beauty and the Beast is not gay. By G.o.d, we're about to have to settle all this outside."

"The sun's up by now."

"I know. Why do you think I want to go outside?" After a moment, Seth broke into one of his broad grins, and even though our talk had been about life-and-death matters, I found myself laughing as if I'd never laugh again.

And considering what I had to do tomorrow night, I probably wouldn't ever want to laugh again.

I stopped laughing and rested my head on the cool countertop, suddenly so weary I couldn't sit up straight.