I believed in Connie's love for me. Deep down, I knew there was only one way to make her hate me enough to let me go. She had been the victim of domestic violence in the most cruel way and had spent most of her adult life helping other woman battle it. There was something I could tell her that would set off a firestorm of raw and deep-seated emotions in her gut and make her curse my name forever.

I had to tell Connie I tried to kill her.

Twelve.

William I watched Tobey and Iban circulate through the crowd. They mixed easily with the patrons, not having to resort to glamour. Travis, on the other hand, stood apart from the throng. Evidently, the young ladies thought his striking looks went a long way toward canceling out any perceived aloofness. All the vampires were accomplishing their stated goal for this evening: meeting attractive women.

My own chances for procuring s.e.x tonight were better than even, what with Ginger taking care to brush against me with her ample bosom or squeeze my thigh each time she pa.s.sed me with her tray of drinks balanced with one hand on her shoulder. Not to say that I was in the mood for games, s.e.xual or otherwise.

The events of the previous night were disturbing on levels the others, even Melaphia, couldn't even guess at. Lalee had forbidden us to kill our sworn enemy, the Slayer, and I knew that at least part of the reason was because I had broken my vow. Did that mean she had abandoned my bloodline altogether? No, I thought not. By her words I could tell that she still had some affection for Jack. Thank heaven for that measure of goodwill at least.

Her negativity toward me shouldn't have come as a surprise, even though not a fortnight earlier she had aided me in saving Renee from a terrible fate. But after reflecting upon the incident I realized that she had done her work through Melaphia, not through me.

And her goal was to save Renee, not to do any particular good turn for me.

I felt myself sinking into a mire of melancholia and foreboding. Just a few hours ago, I thought the threat the Slayer posed to us was over. Now Jack was forbidden to kill her, and I knew he would not allow anyone else to do so either.

I had been worried about Jack. I supposed he was overwhelmed, and I only hoped that whatever scheme he was plotting to save Connie was one he felt he could share with me. In his younger days particularly, Jack had a penchant for not thinking things through.

As if on cue, Jack walked into the nightclub, looking almost as grim as he had when he'd left us the night before. When he saw me at the bar, he sat down next to me.

Werm approached him with something very like awe, as I had filled him in on the revelations of the previous night. The fledgling was learning discretion, however. He refrained from mentioning anything to Jack about his current situation, but only asked him for his drink order.

"I'm sorry I ran out last night," Jack said, accepting a draft beer from Werm.

"Things were getting rather intense, and you had already been through h.e.l.l in the last twenty-four hours," I said. "I don't blame you in the slightest."

"Really?" He seemed to relax a little and took a healthy drink of the beer before looking over his shoulder at Travis, who was conversing with two pretty coeds. "What got decided after I left?"

"About how to proceed where the Slayer's concerned?"

"Yeah. It was looking like everybody was going to be cool with letting Connie live except Travis." "I had a talk with him," I said. "I told him that we were going to do as Lalee instructed. I further told him that you would inform Connie that she was the Slayer and fill her in on everything we know about what that entails. Perhaps he's wrong when he says she'll lose her reason when she activates. If not, at least we will have tried to appeal to her to fight at our side. Travis seemed to accept my decision."

"Do you think he's wrong?"

"I'm not sure. For now I've decided to give Connie the benefit of the doubt."

"Man, that's a load off my mind. But I have to warn you, Connie might not be anxious to throw in with us after I tell her the rest of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Hang on-I'll explain in a second. Hey, Werm, where is Seth tonight? Is he going to be tending bar with you?"

"Yeah, I sent him for a couple of cases of liquor from the supplier. He'll be here later." Werm then walked away to serve some customers at the other end of the bar.

"Why are you inquiring about Seth?"

"Because he can't hear what I'm planning with Connie. I'm going to tell her I tried to kill her last night."

"Why in the name of heaven would you do that? There is no need."

"Yes, there is."

Jack went on to make his case. He outlined his plan for at least temporarily removing the threat that Connie faced for us. That's the interpretation he put on it, at any rate. I knew that his plan was primarily to protect Connie and his unborn child, but it happened to serve our interests as well. However, it hinged on Connie's being willing to let Jack go and return to the arms of Seth.

"What do you think?" he asked when he'd finished.

"I think the plan is good for everyone." And although I didn't say it, I was glad that he'd chosen to trust me and seek out my counsel.

"Really?" he asked me again.

"Yes. Really. I'm not going to fight you on this, Jack." He opened his mouth and a stern glance from me stopped him from saying Really again. "I presume that Seth was amenable to your proposal."

"You presume right. I didn't tell him that I tried to kill Connie, though."

"I don't blame you. I do have one question, though. What do you presume is going to happen when Connie realizes she's with child?"

Jack drained his beer and refrained from meeting my eyes. "It's so early in the pregnancy, I figure if she and Seth get together quick enough, they can both just a.s.sume it's his." He looked down at the polished wood of the bar as if, after all these years as a blood drinker, he were looking for his reflection and put out by its absence.

"I see." I could only imagine what the forfeiture of his child, not to mention the woman he loved, was costing Jack. I had never been more proud of his selflessness. So I chose not to point out the obvious flaw in his scheme, and in any case it would be years before anyone would have cause to wonder how a dhampir and a werewolf produced another dhampir. Perhaps by that time, it wouldn't matter for any number of reasons. "I'm sorry you have to bear this, Jack. But I do believe you're doing the right thing." "I guess," Jack muttered, and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked like he hadn't slept in an age.

"When are you going to break up with her?"

"Tonight."

"Good luck," I said, and squeezed his shoulder.

"I'll pick up your tab."

"Thanks." Looking like a man on his way to the gallows, Jack left.

The visiting vampires observed Jack's departure and approached me to see what state he was in. Werm stepped out from behind the bar to join us. Without going into detail, I told them Jack was on a sad mission to prepare Connie, to try to influence her to support us, and to remove her from our midst if possible. They didn't need the details of Jack's scheme; it wasn't a decision to be made by committee. Iban and Tobey stated their support while Travis said nothing.

Just then the other vampires turned toward the front door, sensing the presence of an unfamiliar blood drinker. "Ah, here's your friend Mr. Blackstone," I said to Tobey.

"That's not Freddy Blackstone," Tobey hissed, and we all moved as one toward the club entrance.

As soon as he saw us, the blood drinker fled. The dance floor was between us and the entrance, so we were impeded by having to dodge the other patrons. By the time we reached the outside, whoever was posing as Tobey's friend had gotten cleanly away.

"d.a.m.n!" Tobey unholstered his cell phone and began to dial, presumably one of his clan members, while the rest of us fanned out across the parking lot. There was no sign of the other blood drinker or which way he had gone.

"How long has he been missing? Did he say where he was going?" Tobey asked the person on the other end of the line. After some additional questioning, he clicked off the phone and addressed us as we gathered around him. "They haven't seen Freddy for weeks," he said. "They a.s.sumed he was off on one of his wanderings, but now there's the possibility of foul play. They're going to put on a search for him at some of his hangouts."

"Werm, in your conversations with this impostor, did he tell you anything about himself that aroused your suspicions?" I asked.

"Uh-about what?" He looked as if he also wished to flee the scene.

"Anything."

"No. He just talked about stupid stuff-places he'd been, things he'd seen. Nothing you'd ever think twice about," Werm insisted.

"Did he seem overly curious about us-here in Savannah, or any of the other clans in the Americas?"

"Not really, no. I mean, not that I can remember. If he started asking too many questions, I would have told you, honest. I didn't tell him anything about you guys."

"Very well," I said. Werm would not have been able to lie to me if he tried.

"It looks as if your clan has been under surveillance, at the very least," Iban said to Tobey. "It would take some research and knowledge of your people and their habits to determine which blood drinker would not be missed if he left suddenly."

"So that another blood drinker could a.s.sume his ident.i.ty," Travis completed Iban's thought.

Tobey, clearly fl.u.s.tered, ran a hand through his hair. "What did you mean by 'at the very least,' Iban?" he asked. "I believe what Iban was getting at is the likelihood that your clan has been infiltrated by someone working for the Council," I said.

"Like Will infiltrated my own clan, leading to their deaths," Iban added bitterly.

"Let's not jump to the worst-case scenario," I said. "Tobey, have you ever seen that blood drinker before?"

"I don't think so, but I couldn't swear to it. I concentrate on my racing most of the time. I have underlings who do the administrative work for the clan-keeping track of them, keeping a roster up to date, that kind of thing. We don't have all-hands meetings or anything. It's possible that the guy himself has been circulating among us using another name altogether."

"And another persona," I suggested.

"I've got to go to them," Tobey said, looking stricken. "Iban, will you come with me?"

"Of course," said the Spaniard. Iban had joined Tobey's clan since his own West Coast family had been wiped out. "Do you have any objections, William?"

I said that I did not, although the moment I spoke I felt another wave of what could only be described as impending doom.

Perhaps it was due to all the recent talk of catastrophic scenarios.

If the Council did figure out how to strike out at us, who was to say their first target would be Savannah? There were only three of us here, not counting Reedrek. The clans elsewhere on this continent were much bigger targets. Was it a conceit on my part to presume that I was so prominent on their agenda that they would strike at me first? In any case, I could not ask the other vampires to stay with us in the east when their own people might be in danger.

"Perhaps I should go as well," Travis said. "I should warn the blood drinkers in my territory to be on the lookout for strangers, as well as any signs and portents of trouble."

"Of course," I said with a conviction I did not feel.

"You must see to your own people."

They left at once, and I as their host made to follow them, but Werm stopped me. "I've got an idea," he said.

I told the others I would be there to see them off, and they went to make their arrangements. Then I followed Werm back into the club. He led me up to a perky-looking female drinking a fruity concoction at the bar.

Werm introduced me to the young woman, who was named Giselle and looked very much like the drawing of Heidi in one of Renee's books. That is, if Heidi had been all grown up and sporting a full rack of double Ds, as Jack would say. She wore a blouse whose puffy sleeves gave it an innocent and feminine look, but whose neckline was cut low enough to show a generous amount of cleavage. All she needed was lederhosen to complete the look. Platinum-blond braids framed a cherubic and carefully made-up face. Her eyes were as pale a blue as any Alpine maiden's.

"Giselle draws caricatures in the parks around Savannah," Werm explained. "She's a regular here. Giselle, you've met Freddy Blackstone, right?"

"Sure. I've talked to him lots of times," Giselle said in a high little-girl voice. With this I got the gist of Werm's plan, and had to admire his cleverness.

"Do you think you could draw him from memory if I got you some paper?" Werm asked. "Only not a caricature this time, but as realistic a drawing as you can do of him in a small amount of time."

Giselle put her pert nose in the air. "I can do realism," she a.s.sured Werm. "I am a graduate of SCAD, you know. And I've got my sketchbook right here." She reached beside her and produced a voluminous bag from which she took the promised sketchbook. I thanked her in advance and instructed Werm to put all her drinks for the night on my account. I then called Deylaud and told him to come to the Portal immediately.

In twenty minutes Giselle had produced an excellent likeness of the blood drinker who had pa.s.sed himself off as one Freddy Blackstone. By that time, Deylaud had arrived. He was panting slightly, and I knew that he had run the whole way. He loved to run whether in dog or human form, and the excuse to do so had made him smile for the first time that I had seen since I'd broken the news to him about Eleanor. I was also delighted to see that he had recovered enough to feel like running once again.

"I want you to take this sketch and fax it to Olivia immediately," I told Deylaud. "And follow up with a phone call. They will be in their coffins, but perhaps one of them will answer if you let it ring long enough. If not, leave a message. Ask Olivia if she or any of her vampires have ever seen the man in the photo. If so, have her tell you everything they know about him so that you can report it back to me. I should be home shortly."

"Got it," Deylaud said, and took the drawing.

Just as Deylaud turned to leave, Ginger stepped around a throng of customers with a tray so heavily laden with full beer mugs she had to use both hands to carry it. She was being careful, watching her step lest she trip over some obstacle, like Giselle's gargantuan bag.

Then she looked up and made eye contact with Deylaud. My faithful half-canine companion went rigid, and the drawing floated to the floor. I stooped quickly to pick it up before someone trod on it, and when I stood once more I noticed that Ginger had frozen as well.

She looked as though she wished to run, but the tray and the throng gathered around the bar prevented her flight. She turned to the right, then left, spilling some of the beer from the mugs onto the tray, but there was no way out.

As soon as she knew she wouldn't be going anywhere, she looked Deylaud directly in the eye. If I hadn't known better, I could have sworn that she was trying to work glamour on him as a vampire would have. If that was her aim, it wasn't working.

Deylaud's nostrils flared and he stepped closer as if to get more of her scent. He stepped back again, confusion written across his narrow, guileless face.

By that time, Ginger had seen an opening between two burly customers and wedged herself through it as if she'd been greased.

"Deylaud, what is it?" I asked, handing him back the drawing.

He took it, still looking confused. The music, which had been mercifully absent for the last few minutes, started up again.

"Nothing," he said hastily. "The music just hurt my ears is all. You know how sensitive my ears are."

Indeed. I also knew that the music hadn't been playing when Deylaud's eyes had met Ginger's. "Very well," I said. "Along with you then."

Deylaud ran out of the building, startling the club-goers he brushed past. Ginger, for her part, was out of sight. I had remained at the Portal rather than taking the sketch home myself in case the opportunity for a quick tryst with the redhead presented itself. I thought perhaps it was time to seek Ginger out and see what developed.

I stood and made my way around the little crowd of people that Ginger had squeezed through and found her standing at the computer set up against the back wall. I slipped my arm around her waist, lifted her barely off her feet, and spirited her away and into the establishment's back meeting room.

"Hey, I have to run tabs for some customers," she protested.

"Not until you tell me what went on with Deylaud just now." I set her on her feet. "Who?" She blinked her wide eyes, but I could tell she knew very well whom I was talking about.

"I refer to the slender young man who was just here. The one I handed the drawing to. You two made eye contact, and he ran out."

"Oh, William," she purred. "You don't have anything to be jealous about. I don't even know him."

"I'm not-" I began, but then decided not to play along. I knew she would not admit to anything unless I tortured her, which I could surely do. It was unnecessary in any case; when I got home, Deylaud would tell me what I wished to know. Still, I could not let the young woman off the hook. Human or vampire, no one lied to William Cuyler Thorne and got away with it. "I don't like being played," I said.

She had the good sense to look properly chastened, but in an instant her expression turned coquettish. "Don't you?" She put both palms against her thighs and slowly slid her skirt upward, revealing one of the pairs of panties that I had given her the other night.