He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate the way Ash had taught him. Toria's hands rested on his waist to steady him, and her voice sounded again in his brain, like whispering fingers that beckoned him forward.

Without leaving where they stood, they crossed the concrete courtyard. Sure enough, two young men sat on a bench some distance apart, trying not to sit too close to each other but also trying to hide the fact that they were pa.s.sing a joint back and forth. They were probably in their late teens, James thought. One was tall and lean with a hard build and dark skin. The other was shorter, younger, and the color of milky coffee.

"Closer," Toria prompted.

James moved closer to the young one, so close he could see the short whiskers just below the boy's ear and the slow drumming of his pulse beneath his skin. He was captivated for a moment. Back in his body, he felt his mouth go dry and his fangs began to unsheathe.

He studied the boy's eyes, and the shape of his face began to fade away. In its place his whole life was revealed. James saw the boy's drunken mother, his work-a-day father, and the boy's ambition to have a better life. He saw his reason for taking this night job at a sw.a.n.ky midtown restaurant even though it made him tired during school and was far from his home. He saw his guilt for smoking dope on a school night, paired with his desire to escape for a while from what waited for him at home.

"James," Toria whispered, using her actual voice this time. She seemed far away, but he lost his view of the boy and felt for a moment as if he were falling from a great height. At the last moment, instead of falling to earth, he was sucked back into his own flesh.

"G.o.d, that's weird!" James exclaimed breathlessly.

"Enough practice. Let's move. Grab hold of his mind as we approach and don't let go. Take hold of his flesh and drink until he starts to fade. And then stop." Toria looked at him with a question in her eyes.

"I've got it," James a.s.sured her. "Jedi mind trick, social drink, and then stop."

He started walking toward the pair, found the younger one again and whispered an introduction into his brain. As stoned as the kid was, he probably could have walked right up to him, James thought. He briefly wondered if that was the reason Toria chose these two-easy pickings for the newest vampire. Poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, he thought. Oh well, he didn't intend for them to even remember what happened. He didn't intend to kill them. He didn't intend to disappoint Ash.

He registered a moment of surprise at that thought, but was quickly distracted by the now detectable scent of the two boys. The smell of them, of their sweat, their flesh, and their blood mingled with the sweet aroma of marijuana. James felt a little high himself.

Suddenly he tasted blood, and it was like a lightning bolt to his brain. He realized he was gritting his teeth, and his fangs had cut his own lip. It didn't matter. He sat down on the bench and held the boy immobilized, using his body as well as his mind. Both were so new, he didn't trust one or the other not to fail him.

Quickly he sank his teeth into the boy's salty flesh, trying not to think about what he was doing. Soon he didn't have to try. Blood poured down his throat, burning as it went. It seared like fire, yet it seemed to heal and strengthen instead of scalding. The boy gave willingly, pouring forth his blood and more of his life, more of himself than before. In a flash of insight, James knew the boy welcomed this, welcomed it as the only extraordinary thing to ever happen in his young life. Too bad he wouldn't remember.

As the flow of blood and memories slowed, James lifted his head. He gently rested the boy's head against the wall behind where they sat. He even remembered to lick the young man's wounds.

Fairly pleased with himself, he turned to see what had become of Toria. She stood behind him, holding the now limp body of the other boy. She took a step closer and dropped the kid on the bench next to his friend.

"My G.o.d!" James yelled. "What have you done? We weren't supposed to kill anyone!"

Toria raised an eyebrow and gave a half-hearted shrug. "No," she said, "you weren't supposed to kill anyone. And you didn't. Ash will be pleased, but that's not the way the world works, James, and you might as well learn that too."

James was stopped from continuing his tirade by the shocking realization that something was happening to the dead boy. He was beginning to glow. It was faint at first, but it kept getting brighter, as if someone was slowly turning a dimmer switch all the way to high.

James looked around, afraid the light would draw attention, but no one was coming. As a matter of fact, the park was no lighter than before. Not even the end of the bench where he sat was illuminated. And yet the boy shone with a light that almost hurt his eyes. When it seemed impossible for it to get any brighter, the light moved. It expanded beyond the bounds of the boy's body and separated from it, rising from the bench to a standing position with the same basic shape and features as the boy's body.

The figure in the light looked at James for some time, and briefly at Toria. Finally it moved over to the younger boy and kissed him fondly on the forehead. Then it rose into the air and disappeared.

James was speechless for a long moment. "Did you see that?" he finally managed.

"Yeah, they all do that," Toria said. She studied James' shocked countenance. "You mean Ash didn't even tell you we can see souls?"

James gave her a confused look, so she continued. "We can see the souls of humans when they leave the body. Some vampires can see human souls even before they die. Ash can see traces of souls in people. I keep telling him he should set up a psychic hotline. He'd make a killing." Toria looked down at the dead, soulless body of the young man. "No pun intended."

James was stunned into silence once again. He shook his head in disbelief. "You mean we really have souls?"

Toria gave him a puzzled, pitying look. "Not we, James. They. They have souls. Humans. Not vampires."

The implication of what she said hit him hard. He had been an atheist for most of his adult life, and now he'd lost the soul he'd never believed existed.

The irony was that he was in exactly the same place as before-on the road to h.e.l.l. Only now the road was longer, he knew his final destination, and there was no way to make it right.

James rose slowly from the bench. Without warning, he flew at Toria, pushing her across the dark courtyard and into the brick wall opposite their little bench. His hands closed tight around her throat.

"You killed me, you b.i.t.c.h," he spat. "It doesn't matter that I'm still here walking around. I'm as good as dead."

Toria laughed, and the sound of it enraged James even more. "Everything is a G.o.dd.a.m.ned joke to you, isn't it?" he yelled. "Ash, me, human beings, you think we're all here for your amus.e.m.e.nt."

Toria's smile disappeared, and her eyes grew hard. In a flash she brought her arms up between James' and broke his hold on her neck. Her foot followed, aiming a powerful kick into the middle of his chest that sent him flying back over to the bench he'd just vacated.

Toria strode over to him and belted him another blow with her closed fist. "You want to see a joke, James? Look in the mirror. You have fangs and the only sustenance your body needs is the lifeblood of these..." she gestured to the two prostrate youths with undisguised distaste, "...creatures."

She grabbed him with one hand by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off his feet. "And yet here you sit, trying desperately not to be what you are-a predator."

She threw him back against the wall. "Ash hasn't even taught you to fight properly. What good is all his strength if you can't use it?" She aimed another blow, but he was able to duck in time to avoid getting his face smashed. Her fist left a dent in the wall beside his head.

"You have decent instincts," Toria said, pulling her hand back. "If you decide you want to learn to be a real vampire, come find me." She wiped the dust off her hand onto the hem of her short dress. "Otherwise, I'm done with you." She turned away.

"Wait!" James pleaded, reality setting in. "What about them? We can't just leave a body lying around-can we?"

Toria removed a knife from the top of her boot and walked over to the dead boy. Pulling his head back, she neatly slit his throat, dragged him over to the base of the nearest tree and dumped him onto the hard earth.

"There," she said, replacing the knife in her boot. "Case closed." She turned to James. "That's another reason I like parks. When cops find a body and no blood, they just a.s.sume it drained into the ground or that the person was killed elsewhere and dumped. Either way-no mystery, no investigation."

"What about him?" James motioned to the still unconscious boy next to him.

"With any luck, he'll wake up and run away," she said, already heading back toward the gate. For reasons he chose not to explore, James followed.

CHAPTER 12.

Council House looked almost exactly the way James had imagined it: a dark doll-house with weeping statues and ma.s.sive stone pillars.

Those pillars were connected by a low brick wall topped by iron railings with jagged metal teeth. End to end, the outer wall encircled half a mid-town block in its imposing embrace. At the main entrance were two larger pillars, each crowned with a marble orb, and from the face of each pillar hung a huge iron lantern, each one almost as tall as a man. The lanterns signaled the entrance to the building's protected courtyard. Beyond the courtyard loomed the six above-ground stories of the mansion.

James fought back his fear. He couldn't stay holed up in Ash's house forever, but it would have helped if Toria had said a single word to him on the walk over.

When they reached the front doors, Toria pushed through them and strode in without looking to see if James followed. He did and shut the doors behind him.

Inside the entryway, Toria was in quiet conversation with another vampire. After a brief exchange, she departed across the main hall, her heels clicking on its marble floor, and up a tremendous set of winding stairs.

The other vampire, who appeared an innocent, sandy-haired youth, looked at James and held out his hand. "I'm Evan," he said.

James shook the proffered hand, wondering why the gesture seemed so out of place.

Evan gave a nod to his left. "Come with me, and I'll show you to your room."

James followed Evan's slender figure around the corner and down a hall to an elevator. Noting his puzzled look, Evan smiled. "When the house was expanded, it was easier to put in an elevator than another staircase," he explained. "Plus, there's no flying allowed in the house. Do you fly, James?"

"No." James shook his head. "At least, I don't think I do."

Evan pursed his lips as they got into the elevator. "It's been many centuries since Ash made another vampire. There will be many here who are curious as to your abilities." He punched the b.u.t.ton for the third floor.

Again James shook his head. "I don't know much more than they do, I'm afraid."

"It might be wise to keep that to yourself for a while, until you get a better sense of where you stand," Evan offered.

"Don't vampires get stronger with age?" James asked. "Why would anyone think I could do anything?"

Evan stepped out onto a rich burgundy carpet as the doors opened on the third floor. "Our strength does increase with age, that's true, but where you start depends in large part on how far removed you are from the original vampire-Samson."

"And how far removed are you?" James asked his new host.

Evan smiled. "Pretty far. My real name is Ivan. I was born in Russia during the reign of Peter the Great, and was made a vampire by some of Toria's line, several times removed from her."

He stopped at the end of the long hallway at the next to last door, pushing it open to reveal a small but functional room complete with a bed, a mini fridge, a desk, and a laptop computer. A neutral, patterned rug covered most of the wood floor. There were no windows.

James crossed the threshold ahead of Evan and made for the laptop. "What's this for?" he asked.

"We have a network here. You should find log-in information in the desk drawer. You'll have to put in some information, and then you'll have access to our website, calendar, and all sorts of useful information. You'll also have a house email account."

James was already pulling out the desk chair and powering up the machine. "Great. Who does your web development?"

Evan shot him a puzzled look.

"I am-was-in software development," James explained. "I was chief engineer at a little start-up company downtown."

"Oh, well, in that case, I'll see if I can't find the answer for you. Right now I have no idea."

As James' attention drifted, Evan headed for the door. "I'm sure Toria will be up sooner or later. I'd offer you the rest of the tour, but there's a map on the website, so I'm guessing you'll get to it in your own time."

He crossed the threshold and was pulling the door closed when he suddenly stopped and popped his head back in. "Oh, the room next to yours toward the elevators is vacant, and the room on the other side is occupied by a monk, so it should be quiet up here."

James turned and smiled. "Thanks, Evan." Evan closed the door behind him, and James began filling out the login page for the Council House network.

He lost all track of time until the smell of burning flesh hit his nostrils. He left the computer and opened the door to the hall, inhaling left and right. After a moment, it was clear that the noxious smell was coming from the room at the end of the hall. What had Evan said? That it was occupied by a monk?

James knocked loudly on the door. How unfriendly could a monk be? he wondered. And who ever heard of a vampire monk?

There was no answer, and no sound came from inside. James pounded again and called out, "Hey, are you okay in there?"

Finally, the door opened and a lean, green-eyed vampire stared down at James. He wore no shirt, just plain brown pants. James caught a glimpse of the room behind him and decided that brown must be his favorite color. A plain khaki-colored blanket lay across the bed, and what looked like a brown robe fell across the back of the desk chair. It took a moment for James to register that the room had a window and that sunlight was streaming across the desk and onto the floor. Why would a vampire take a room with a window?

"Are... are you okay?" James asked again, a little unnerved by the strange light emanating from those green eyes.

"I'm fine," the monk said haltingly. He studied James for a moment, finally asking, "Do I know you?"

"No," James answered, "I just arrived today." He looked again at the unexpected sunlight. "Well, make that yesterday. I'm in the room next door and... well, I thought you might be in trouble. I smelled something burning."

The monk smiled slightly. "It's kind of you to ask, but as you can see, I'm perfectly fine." Suddenly his smile fell, and he turned around. "Tell me, do you see any burns?" he asked, indicating his own back. "Do you see any scars even?"

James perused the perfect, pale flesh and shook his head. "No, nothing. You look fine."

"Then you see my problem," the monk said.

James didn't. "I'm James," he said, trying a different tack. "What's your name?"

"Keller," the monk answered, turning around. At last James felt like he was making progress.

"And you're really a monk? With what order?"

Keller stiffened. "I studied in Ireland, at Clonfert, when I was still a monk."

James' brow furrowed as he again took in the brown robe. "You're not a monk now?" he asked.

Keller stuck his arm out into the beam of sunlight that cut across the narrow room. James flinched as he held it there, remembering too well the pain it caused.

"Who ever heard of a vampire monk?" Keller said bitterly, echoing James' earlier thought even as his arm began to smoke. "I was lucky to escape my order with my life when Toria turned me into this."

Keller removed his arm from the beam of light, and James watched as the skin bubbled and began to heal itself.

Keller watched it too and laughed. "Even if they had accepted me, how can I be a proper servant in this body-this body which cannot suffer?"

James knew the question was rhetorical, but couldn't stop himself. "This body that has no soul?"

Keller's eyes widened and he grabbed James by the shoulder. "Dinna say that!" he demanded. "Do not ever say that. You don't know."

"No, you're right, I don't." James acknowledged, "Just like you don't know that G.o.d no longer hears your prayers. Perhaps he still does, even if your order no longer considers you fit to serve."

Keller stepped back and smiled. "I have been told as much recently by another of our kind. Perhaps the both of you are right. Perhaps the children of Lilith can be redeemed."

James shook his head. "Who's Lilith?" he asked.

Keller stared back at him. "Has no one told you of your origins?"

"Ash told me he was the first and he didn't know exactly who or what was responsible," James said.

"Ash told you?"

"That's right. He's the one who made me," James admitted, remembering Evan's advice a little too late.

Keller looked at him with decidedly more interest. "Is that right? Well, that's most disappointing."