I went by the garage to check on any earthquake damage and explain things to the guys as best I could. They were shocked to hear about William, of course, and offered me their sympathies and vows of discretion.I convinced Rennie to close up for a few days on account of potential demon trouble, and advised him and the irregulars to lie low until I had a handle on things. They said they understood and headed for their homes. Before Otis left I told him that later I'd fill him in on some details he'd want to take back to his Sidhe bosses.

I was checking for structural damage around the back of the building, grateful that nothing seemed to have been harmed inside or out, when I saw Huey sitting on the edge of what had been his hole. I say "what had been" because the earthquake had caused the hole to cave in, ruining all the hard work he'd put in to resurrect his Chevy Corsica.

But he didn't seem perturbed. In fact, he had himself a new friend. Or maybe I should say a closer friend. The crow that had been perched in the tree squawking the last time I'd seen it was now perched on Huey's shoulder like some c.o.c.keyed pirate's parrot.

"Looks like you've got a feathered friend," I said.

"Yessir. She's your friend, too," Huey said.

"Come again?"

"That's what she said."

I'd heard it all now. "She said she's my friend?"

"I taught her to talk."

"Did you, now?"

"She tried for an awful long time, and finally she caught on," he said.

I was starting to believe that Huey was a regular Doctor Dolittle. Not long ago he had demonstrated his ability to speak werewolf-he could interpret their barks and whines-and now he had taught a bird to talk. At least he claimed that he had. But hearing was believing.

I bent down to get a better look at the critter, and she eyeballed me in return. "There's a pretty bird," I said. "Can the pretty bird talk?"

The crow flapped its wings indignantly. "d.a.m.n right I can. Dammit, Jack, get me out of here!"

I nearly fell over into what was left of Huey's old grave, now Huey's old mud hole. "Ginger? Is that you?"

"h.e.l.l yes," the bird said.

"How'd you get to be a bird?"

"That b.i.t.c.h of a boss of mine stole my body, and there's no telling what she's been doing to it. You've got to get it back for me, Jack! Get me the h.e.l.l back into my body!"

"I-I will," I stammered. "I mean, I'll try. There might be a slight problem. With your body, I mean."

"Oh, geez. What?" asked the long-suffering Ginger.

"You might be a vampire."

"Don't tell me you believe in vampires."

I sighed. "A few days ago, you probably didn't believe that your boss could steal your body either." "Okay, whatever. Just promise me you'll get me and my body back together."

"I promise."

"Good. 'Cause I look terrible in black." The Ginger bird settled down some, but didn't take her eyes off me. "Let me tell you something else. Lay off that 'pretty bird' business. And if you ever offer me a cracker, by G.o.d, I'm going to peck your eyes out."

My second-favorite place to go and think-other than in my car, driving fast-is the beach on Tybee Island. There's something eternal and rea.s.suring about hearing the waves wash onto the sh.o.r.e over and over.

The humans had practically deserted the island, what with tsunami warnings due to the earthquakes, but when they realized the crisis had pa.s.sed they would make their way back to their island paradise.

For now, the island belonged to me. Before I took on the serious thinking I had to do-that of the problem-solving variety-I let my mind wander. And I let myself grieve for my friend, my father, my William.

I thought about all the good times he and I had together, like the times we went night fishing or moonlight sailing and he told me stories of things that happened hundreds of years ago. I could have listened to him forever. I never believed that a day would come when the stories would be over.

I chose not to recall the times we'd clashed. Not tonight. Tonight was for pleasant memories.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the salty wind on my face. When I finally opened them, I looked out into the frothy waves and thought I saw something gliding on the surface of the water. What was it? Bottlenose dolphins? Manatees? No, that couldn't be right.

It almost looked like a couple dancing on top of the water. I shook my head. McShane, you're cracking up. First talking birds and now merpeople. And I hadn't even had anything to drink. That could be remedied at least. I was going to tie one on before I went into my coffin tonight.

I saw the moonlight strike something shiny as the next wave came in. The water rolled what looked like an antique champagne bottle right up to my feet. It looked really old, like it had been battered against the sand of so many sh.o.r.es that it had worn down in places.

I stooped to retrieve it and saw that there was a cork in it. I removed the cork and shook out a small piece of yellowed paper so old and oxidized it almost disintegrated in my hand. I held it up to the moonlight and strained to read it, revving up my special vampire peepers.

Four words, written in an elegant hand, read, Don't worry. I'm fine.

"What the-"

And then I found myself on the flat of my back in the sand, the note flying off into the wind. I tried to keep my grip on the bottle.

Connie held me down with superhuman strength, a wooden stake pressing through my shirt into the flesh right above my heart.

"h.e.l.lo there, lover boy. Are you ready to die?"

Would my time as head of the household last only a day? I fought to remain calm. I'd talked women into a lot of things in my long life, but no sweet talk I'd ever done had prepared me for trying to talk a vampire slayer out of staking me.

She drew the stake back and was about to bring it downward when I yelled, "You don't want to kill me!"

"Oh, yes I do," she said. "I'm itching to kill you. I need to kill you!" Her eyes were wild. I could understand now what Travis had said about the slayers turning into something that wasn't human. I just hoped I'd understood him right when he said they eventually settle down, and I wondered if I could stay alive that long.

"No you don't. You need me."

She laughed, and I tried not to think about how s.e.xy those little fangs were. Now was not the time for distractions.

"Oh, yeah? What do I need you for?" she asked sweetly. She brought the weapon to my chest again and pressed it in hard enough to draw blood.

"Do you remember that talk about portals that went on amongst us vampires last night?"

"Uh-huh." She narrowed her eyes.

Hot d.a.m.n, I had her attention. "Did you understand what it meant?"

"Nope," she admitted. "What does it mean?"

"It means that the earthquake opened up a hole to h.e.l.l that let a lot of nasty beasties escape into Savannah. And you need me to help you find them and kill them before they can eat any of the good citizens of our fair city."

I was pretty sure this was a bald-faced lie. She was made to root out blood drinkers, and didn't need me even a little bit, but she was a baby slayer with n.o.body to teach her, so she might not instinctively know what her powers were.

"Beasties?" The crazy smile disappeared. "What kind of beasties?"

"Ones with big sharp nasty teeth," I enthused.

"Demons who can shape-shift into all kinds of scary monsters." I hoped to the G.o.ds that not just Connie, but Connie the cop was in there somewhere and that her natural inclination to put the welfare of the citizens first would override her need to kill little old me.

She studied me skeptically. "Demons who can change into all kinds of scary monsters, huh? That's quite a tale. How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Well, I, uh-where's your sword?"

It was obvious she was new to all this, and she seemed genuinely confused by my question, but then she shook it off.

She was raising the stake again, when a G.o.d's-honest miracle happened. The cop radio that she wore somewhere under her jacket went off, and a dispatcher spewed some cop-speak about a crazed maniac running amok on River Street. Not your garden-variety crazed maniac, mind you, but one with four legs, a tail, and scales.

"What was that about a lizard man?" I asked.

"You've got to admit it's not every day that you see something out of a j.a.panese horror movie menacing the tourists."

She looked at me hard, considering. "Seth can help me find these demons," she said. "And I can sniff vampires. I don't need you."

"Smell can get you and Seth only so far. I can teach you what he can't: how to think like a vampire and how to outsmart one.

These demons are bloodsuckers at heart, and it takes one to know one, sweetheart."

"I don't need your help to think like a vampire. I'm half-vampire already...but it was a nice try."

She swung all the way back with the stake and brought it down to my heart. In a flash, I managed to move the bottle over my heart, and the stake glanced off the smooth gla.s.s."Hey, wait!" I said as she cursed her miss. "You haven't heard the worst part: not all of the risen undead will be in demon form.

Some of them will look like regular folks."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not. You remember that redheaded chick from last night? That was really Eleanor. William killed her in Europe, and she accidentally came back from the underworld with us. She could have morphed into a snake if she'd wanted to. But she stole Ginger the floozy's body to hop into when she came up from the underworld."

I was rambling but I couldn't help it. Maybe if I threw enough at her, something would stick. If it didn't I was going to be back in the underworld in a flash, suffering a torment thought up just for me. I'd probably be stuck for all eternity driving a Chevy Corsica!

"Ginger the floozy?"

I didn't think Connie's half-vampire brain was firing on all cylinders yet. I didn't know if that was good or bad, but I forged ahead.

"She was one of Eleanor's wh.o.r.es. That was really Eleanor in Ginger's body."

Something in those scary eyes told me I was finally getting through to her. "And you can tell when one of these demons has possessed a human being?"

"Of course," I fibbed again, hoping like h.e.l.l that a slayer's powers didn't include lie detecting. So far so good on that score.

Connie raised herself off me, mostly using the stake, which was against my chest again, to lift herself.

"Ow," I said. "Ow."

She hauled me up by my shirtfront as effortlessly as if I were a ragdoll, set me on my feet, and pulled me down to look at her eyeball to eyeball.

"All right. I'll let you live for now, fang boy. But when we've tracked down and destroyed all the demons, then I'm coming for you. And believe me when I tell you-you may not have had the guts to kill me when you had the chance. But I do have the guts to kill you." She shoved me so hard I landed in the surf several feet away.

That went well.

I watched her disappear into the darkness, salt water stinging the hole in my chest, which was already healing. I dug my heels into the sand and pushed myself into the ocean to float on my back and look up into the stars.

Well, just d.a.m.n. That was so...hot.

Epilogue.

A Word from the Council Far beneath London a group of demons argued among themselves as they sat around a cauldron that belched black smoke and a foul stench.

Idly fingering the vivid but healing wound in his throat, the vampire Ulrich stood waiting for them to calm themselves. At his side stood his mate, Diana, who was trying her best not to scream.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Do not worry, my dear. They won't harm us. We'll turn their bad news to our advantage." Diana nodded, still too petrified to speak. Her most recent plan to impress the Council had failed miserably. William Cuyler Thorne, her human husband of half a millennium, had rescued the magical child she'd promised to make into a blood drinker to honor the old lords. And William had destroyed Hugo, the one they'd planned to sacrifice.

The only thing that had spared Ulrich and Diana the full wrath of the Council was the failure of Damien, the vampire in charge of the Council's most recent scheme. By the time Diana and Ulrich had freed themselves and returned to the Council, the old lords were more interested in heaping their wrath onto Damien.

Their minion, a diminutive vampire named Mole, had just received a communique from Reedrek and delivered to the Council news of what had happened in Savannah. Even now Mole cowered in a corner, evidently fearing the old sires would eat the messenger.

As the Council members calmed themselves, Ulrich said in his most soothing voice, "But gentlemen, Thorne is dead. Surely that is a victory."

The eldest of the old lords, an ancient blood drinker bearing the reddest, scaliest, and most pock-marked skin, said, "The portal was closed before more than a scant few twice-killed vampires could escape." He shouted in anger, pounding the earth with his staff.

"It was supposed to have remained open until all the Sluagh made their way to the land of the living," the demon next to him said.

The unholy hubbub began again, and Ulrich cleared his throat to try to regain their attention. "If you'll pardon my directness, your lordships, it would seem a boy was sent to do a man's job."

The cowering minion gasped at Ulrich's brazenness, and Diana gaped at him in horror before taking a step to distance herself from him.

Another demon scratched himself with long pointed talons. "Do you think we are so senile as to have forgotten that you failed even more miserably than Damien did, Ulrich?"

The fiend evidently couldn't reach the right spot, because he beckoned the minion and indicated where the little vampire should scratch. Blanching in horror, Mole did as he was bidden. The demon's foot thumped the ground a few times and he sighed in relief.

Diana looked as if she would swoon.