I felt myself smile. As it was with her mother and her mother's mother before her, nothing pleased me more than to hear Melaphia call me Father.

"There's no need to thank me. I'm only sorry that you had to suffer through the ordeal of the kidnapping. How are you feeling, really?"

"I'm fine now." She seated herself on the sofa across from the fireplace. She did indeed look as if the weight of the world had lifted off her shoulders. The stress of the abduction had visibly aged her. Now she looked like a young woman of thirty again, clad in her jeans, sneakers, and blue pullover. Her dreadlocks were pulled back and secured with a kerchief of matching blue silk.

"So, your...thinking is..." I began, searching for the most tactful way to ask if she believed she had regained her sanity.

She smiled. "My mind is as clear as a bell, honestly. I know we have a lot to talk about, a lot to plan. I promise you I can handle it."

"I'm glad to hear that. Because I need you and your skills as never before, my dear. First, I want you to think back a few months to when I went to the underworld when Eleanor was being made a blood drinker."

"All right." Melaphia's face clouded. It had been a dangerous time. I nearly didn't make it back from the netherworld.

"When I returned to my body, did anything come back with me?"

"You mean like the fireball you said came back with Jack? No, not at all. Why? What do you think it means?"

"Perhaps nothing. Do you think that your texts might shed any light on such phenomena?"

"I'll search for any reference that might be helpful, while I'm researching...the other thing."

"Yes," I said as I stoked the fire by prodding a glowing ember with the iron poker. The sparks that shot upward into the chimney reminded me of the ball of fire I'd seen when Jack returned to his body. "'The other thing' indeed. Is there any reason to believe that Connie knows any more about her destiny than that she is a Mayan G.o.ddess?"

"No, and I don't know how she could. The sources on the Internet only go so far, and I don't believe she would find anything useful in even the best libraries. It might occur to her to travel to New Orleans to talk to some of the best voodoo pract.i.tioners, but..." Melaphia shrugged but was too modest to continue her thought. She might have pointed out that no other mambo on this continent came close to her own skills. And none had access to the sacred books pa.s.sed down from Maman Lalee herself.

"Good," I said. "Keep on searching the texts for anything you can find on the Slayer."

"And how to kill her." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Perhaps Jack is right and it won't come to that," I said.

"I can only imagine how he reacted when you told him," she said. "You did tell him, didn't you?"

"That he would one day have to kill her for both our sakes? Yes. He's in denial right now, and I've decided not to force the issue until we know more."

"I guess I have my work cut out for me then," she said, and rose to leave.

"One more thing. I spoke to Seth Walker briefly last night."

"I heard he was back in town. Werewolf business?"

"Yes. And he said something strange. He's been having premonitions about serious events coming our way."

"What kind of serious events?" Melaphia frowned.

"He said he didn't know specifics. But, as you know, his werewolf instincts are sharper than any of ours when it comes to phenomena in the natural world, so what he senses is worth listening to, no matter how vague."

"Maybe I should talk to him further about it." Melaphia gave me a sly smile despite the seriousness of the issue. She was as fond of Seth as all women seemed to be and would no doubt welcome an excuse to seek out his counsel.

As Melaphia joined the others for dinner, I returned downstairs and turned on my computer. The phone rang as the PC powered up, the caller ID indicating that Tobey was calling from the West Coast.

When I answered, he said, "William! It's great to hear your voice. I was just calling to see if Melaphia had gotten any word from you and Renee yet."

I thanked Tobey for his concern and gave him a brief recap of what had happened while I was in England, but not about Jack's own adventure to the underworld. He expressed joy at hearing of Renee's good health and genuine sorrow at the loss of Eleanor.

As I listened, I realized I needed to warn him about the Slayer. To keep it to myself would be unfair to the other master vampires.

"Try to go easy on yourself about Eleanor, William. It sounds as if you did what you had to do. We all make mistakes from time to time when matters of the heart are involved. I've made more than my share myself."

"I appreciate the understanding, my friend, but let us speak no more about that for the present. I need you to come east again with Iban and Travis. I need to share some additional information that I can't get into on the phone."

There was a pause. "Sounds urgent," Tobey said.

"Very."

"I'll talk to my people and reschedule some things. Iban and I will charter a jet and leave as soon as the sun sets. We'll be there tomorrow night. I'll put out feelers to try to find Travis, but you know how nomadic he is."

Travis Rubio, descended from ancient Mayan Indians, roamed throughout the Southwest as well as Central and South America.

His value in monitoring nonhuman activity in that part of the world was enormous. "Thank you. Before I let you go, I need a bit of information. I understand you are acquainted with a vampire named Freddy Blackstone."

"Freddy? Yeah. Why?"

"He's here in Savannah. He seems to have made a friend of our Lamar."

"Lamar?"

"Werm," I amended. I explained the nature of Werm's new enterprise. "What does this Mr. Blackstone look like?"

"Medium height, brown hair, brown eyes. No particularly distinctive features." "Any idea why he came here?"

"I think he has a touch of the wanderl.u.s.t. He was made here in the West a little after I was and has roamed around from clan to clan ever since. I think he wants to see as much of the world as he safely can, so I wouldn't expect him to stay in Savannah all that long. He's really quite harmless, a bit on the goofy side, to tell you the truth. You won't find him particularly helpful in a crisis, but you shouldn't have any trouble with him either. He knows how to behave himself."

In vampire parlance, knowing how to behave oneself meant not killing human beings unless gravely provoked. "Very well. I'll give him your regards if and when I meet him."

"Please do," Tobey said. "When do I get to hear more about that treasure trove of information that Olivia inherited from Alger?"

"Olivia should be able to give us a report tomorrow night. She hasn't had time to have much of Alger's material translated as yet, but she might have discovered something of value," I said. "By that time Melaphia may be able to supplement the information with some research she's doing on this end."

And, I thought, I'd have had more time to decide what to tell the other master vampires about the Slayer.

Tobey and I said our good-byes, and I scanned my backlog of e-mail for anything that needed my immediate attention. I saw nothing that couldn't wait, so I e-mailed Olivia: Arrived safely with Renee in Savannah. Please prepare a briefing for tomorrow night on behalf of the Americans on the new information you've uncovered. If anything on the Slayer comes to light, contact me immediately. Yours, WCT.

I thought a moment and added a postscript: No more secrets from me. However, you must not tell Jack anything you find out about the Slayer. Leave that to me. I will explain in due time.

I e-mailed Gerard and Lucius to prepare to attend tomorrow night's meeting as well. I received quick responses indicating that traveling on such short notice would be a hardship due to their schedules and the inherent difficulties of travel.

For the blood drinker, trip-taking was inconvenient at best and outright dangerous at worst. Excursions beyond one's home territory were not undertaken lightly. That is why I prefer sea voyages when I have the luxury of time and discreet private air travel when I do not. For the purposes of tomorrow night's meeting, I decided not to press the matter and agreed to let Gerard and Lucius partic.i.p.ate via secured telephone.

I could have allowed Iban and Tobey to attend the meeting remotely as well, but I sensed I might need their moral support in convincing Jack of what he had to do for all our sakes. He would pay more attention to a united front of his friends than to me alone.

I powered down the PC and selected an Italian leather sport coat from the armoire that I kept in the vault. It was time, as the young ones say, to go clubbing.

Jack An alarm clock in your coffin comes in handy now and then. I was especially glad I had one tonight. The last thing I wanted was another confrontation with William about Connie-at least not until I had more information. But who did you turn to for the 411 on vampire slayers?

Under different circ.u.mstances, the obvious choice would be Melaphia, but Mel's devotion to William meant she wanted to see Connie dead even more than my sire did. Since she'd failed to get rid of Connie by helping her into the underworld, she was going to be on the lookout for other ways to make sure my girlfriend wouldn't kill either of the men who raised her. I couldn't really blame Melaphia. How could I? But I also couldn't let her succeed.

There was only one person in Savannah I could think of who might be able to give me some advice, and it wasn't a person at all.

Not a live one, anyway. I had to talk to Sullivan. He had been Connie's friend in life. Maybe he had seen her when she went to the underworld or learned something valuable since he'd been dead. As the sun was still setting I had hauled my coffin on my back through the garage to the carriage house. I made a quick call to Rennie to make arrangements to pick up the black box and take it to my unit at the mini-storage before hopping into my Corvette for the drive to William's plantation where Sullivan was buried.

I roared to a stop beside the little family cemetery and let myself in through the wrought-iron gate. A cold breeze blew off the marsh waters, swaying the Spanish moss in the branches of the live oaks overhead. I heard the murmurs of the dead rising from graves here and there-greetings, entreaties, warm wishes. I didn't let any of the spirits engage me, not even the ones with sweet, enticing female voices, but made my way directly to Sullivan's little plot of earth.

Visiting people's graves was always a little humbling. Charismatic people like Sullivan cut a wide swath of influence in life. In death, he was reduced to a three by six rectangle of dirt. I sighed. "Sullivan. Are you there?"

"Is a bear buried in the woods?" he asked.

I heaved a sigh of relief as I hadn't been 100 percent sure I'd be able to reach him.

"Say, didn't you bring me any flowers?"

"That sounds kind of gay, dude."

"Just kidding."

"I wasn't sure I'd be able to talk to you," I said absently. I was still thinking about that age-old question of where the soul resides.

I remembered how upset the spirits in Colonial Cemetery got when William went on a tirade and disturbed their graves. But that wasn't even the worst of it. My sire went on to kill a couple of innocent people in the tunnels in a fit of rage. I'd never known him to do that in all my existence. It shook me up, to tell you the truth.

"I'm always here. And always in the underworld. It's kind of like having a split personality. A little part of your spirit always stays with your body, just enough to communicate, I guess."

"That makes sense," I said. "One time I was able to raise a bunch of dead people to guard the harbor. It was pretty awesome if I do say so myself."

"I heard about that," Sullivan said. "I don't know if you know what a big deal that was. Getting the dead to walk again isn't easy.

If a ghost that is reanimated from the grave gets up and walks topside, then its spirit goes into suspension in the underworld. I'm not sure what happens when someone is raised from the dead directly from the underworld. I don't know if anybody's ever done that before."

His voice had an otherworldly quality. It was a little spooky, to tell you the truth. "Sounds like all h.e.l.l could bust loose."

"Very funny," he said. "But I've heard that one before."

I really wasn't trying to make a joke. My own power to reanimate the dead had creeped me out. It was a handy skill to have, but I hoped n.o.body ever asked me to do it again. Things could backfire on you quick; my friend Huey, who was a nice guy but also a smelly zombie, was living-er-lurching proof of that. The law of unintended consequences could be a b.i.t.c.h when you had a power that was hard to control.

"Listen, Sully, I've got to ask you something. It's really important."

"Shoot," he said. "I've got nothing but time."

I explained to him what had happened with Connie, going into as much detail as I could remember about the angels' Slayer ceremony.

"Dude, your main squeeze is supposed to kill you? That's a colossal b.u.mmer." "Tell me about it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet. I've got to figure some things out. For example, why do you think she forgot what went on there when she got back here and into her body?" I asked.

"Think about it, Jack. n.o.body is supposed to be able to go to the underworld and come back to the land of the living to tell about it. It's against the most basic rules of G.o.d and the universe. So in the rare instances when it's been done, the people involved are stripped of their memories of what happened in the afterlife."

"But Connie was always supposed to come back-as the Slayer," I said. "It seems like she would need to remember being sworn in. Besides, I can remember what happened."

"Maybe she's supposed to remember at some later time," he suggested. "Or it could be that the shock of the whole experience caused her to have temporary amnesia. The only reason I can figure for why you can recall what happened there is that you're not, strictly speaking, a human anymore."

"That makes sense, I guess," I said. "Do you know everything now that you're dead? The meaning of life-all that kind of stuff."

"No, of course not. There's just too much to know. What kind of information do you need?"

"I need to know anything and everything about vampire slayers."

"I guess you do at that. I'm afraid that's one of the things that's not in the handbook."

"There's a handbook?"

"Kidding," Sullivan said. "Although now that I think of it, one would be good to have." His gentle laughter rustled the leaves at my feet, causing them to fly away as if chasing one another on a little updraft of salty breeze.

"You're a writer. You should get right on that," I said. "It would make a h.e.l.luva movie."

"It would at that. Not a bad idea," he said. "About the other thing, though-I'm sorry I can't help you, Jack."

"Oh well. Maybe she'll never remember that she's the Slayer and everything will be like it was before Melaphia figured it out."

"I wouldn't count on that."

"Why?"

"Destiny is a powerful thing, my friend. That's one of the things that I have been able to learn down here. If Connie's destiny is to be the Slayer, she can't escape it. Somehow, some way, she'll find out."

"Oh, c.r.a.p."

"You asked."

"I gotta go," I muttered.

"I'll see you around," Sullivan said.

I just love a corpse with a sense of humor.

On the way to check on things at the garage, I wracked my brain for any solution to the Connie dilemma. Olivia might know something, but William would have gotten to her first. Besides, Olivia would be just as anxious to see Connie dead as any other blood drinker. I wondered if any guy in the history of the universe had ever had my problem. What I wouldn't give to have some sort of normal predicament like in-law trouble or money difficulties. If I went to Dr. Phil with this crisis, what was left of his hair would stand on end and he'd go screaming out of the studio.

Nope, I was on my own with this one. I had to protect Connie from the danger she was in from my own kind-h.e.l.l, from my own family. I couldn't even tell her about the threat she faced, or she might try to kill me. I just wish I knew more about slayers so I could come up with a plan.