The lips had slid back from the teeth, and the cartilage in the nose had dried out. The corpse was grimacing. But there was something about the grimace - some, strange living essence that made it hard to look upon for long. For this was no ordinary corpse. This was a living corpse.

She laid her hand lightly in the corpse's delicate hand. Then she leaned into the coffin and touched her lips to the dry, rotted cheek. She whispered, "I'm making progress, John. A little at a time. But it's there, John. It's there." With the slowness of an hour hand, the fingers of the corpse were closing. If she had an hour or two or three, John Blaylock would gradually grip her hand with an appalling grip. His fingers would feel like corded steel. His nails would dig as if seeking to break through to her blood.

But now, there was only the subtlest of changes - a slight tickling of a bony finger in a soft palm, the sighing pressure of a long, hard nail upon the tender inner edge of one of her fingers.

She drew away from him. In his eyes, she could see fire. See it - but was it there? Then she heard the sound of the corpse - for it made a sound when she came. It was moving - dry muscles, dead skin, every part of it. This created a rustle no more than the whisper of falling leaves, but it was unmistakably a sound of life.

In her clear, gentle voice, as soft as the tender airs of the night, she sang to him a song that was familiar to all of Miriam's people: "Sleep my child and peace attend thee, All through the night. . . ."

With that she left him. Miriam would not be pleased with this delay. But Sarah had a relationship with John and the others. One day, she would either bring them back to life or give them the release of true death. One day.

Her research had proceeded much farther than she had told Miriam. In fact, she was probably farther along in understanding the physics of the soul than anybody else in the world. This was because science rejected its existence. But she had been been a soul, one trapped in its own corpse. So she knew that the soul existed. She had discovered that this rich electromagnetic being was accessible to technology, for it was part of the physical world, not some strange supernatural essence. The soul was a living plasma composed of trillions of electrons, each one cast with a slightly different spin, and each spin expressing a tiny part of the harmony and memory of the whole incredibly detailed being. a soul, one trapped in its own corpse. So she knew that the soul existed. She had discovered that this rich electromagnetic being was accessible to technology, for it was part of the physical world, not some strange supernatural essence. The soul was a living plasma composed of trillions of electrons, each one cast with a slightly different spin, and each spin expressing a tiny part of the harmony and memory of the whole incredibly detailed being.

There must even be a medicine of the soul, she felt, for it could be sick and it could suffer. Oh, yes, it could suffer.

As she crossed the attic, the rustling grew faint, fading on an unmistakable note of dejection.

She drew her spotless sliver fleam out of its case of human leather and hurried downstairs.

They had cuffed the victim, who was laid out on the white enamel kitchen table.

"Pull up a chair," Miriam said to Leo."It's quite a spectacle." She glared at Sarah, but made no other comment on her slowness.

Sarah tried to control her shaking hand as she felt the pulse. With her doctor's precise knowledge, she could determine exactly which neck artery would offer the best flow.

"What is that instrument?"

Sarah looked at Leo, who was sitting with her chin in her hands, watching from two feet away. She was going to watch an innocent human being die, and all she could bring to it was this ugly fascination. Sarah went from disliking Leo to despising her. She was actually tempted to go after her with the d.a.m.ned fleam.

When she did not answer Leo's question, Miriam said, "It's an antique surgical instrument, from when they used to let blood. That hooked end nicks into the vein, then the blade opens it. It's very neat."

"You don't use one, though."

With a dry sound, Miriam opened her mouth. Leo gasped at the funneled cavern with the pointed, black tongue at its center. "I don't need one," Miriam said, chuckling.

"Fleams were used by vets to bleed horses," Sarah said."It's a brutal tool."

"It looks beautiful."

"That's because she keeps her instruments so clean. She's a doctor, remember."

"How does this make you feel?"

"How does it make me feel feel?"

"Hurry up, Sarah," Miriam said quickly.

Her throat was closing, her eyes tearing. But she tried to be proud, to do well what she must do to survive. She was weak; she should let herself die. But she couldn't stay in that coffin of hers, no more than you can kill yourself by holding your breath.

"Aren't you going to wake her up for it?" Leo asked.

Miriam burst out laughing."She likes them out cold! She has no taste!"

What Miriam meant was that the blood of a suffering victim tasted better. The adrenaline gave it a delectable piquancy.

Sarah hooked the fleam into the carotid on the right side. Leo came around the table so she could see the sucking process up close. Sarah's cheeks were hot with embarra.s.sment; her soul was wretched with shame. But the blood that dripped out - oh, G.o.d, oh, it smelled so d.a.m.n good! so d.a.m.n good!

There was a small struggle. The woman shifted on the table, moaning dryly.

"Do I hit her again?" Leo asked Miri.

"Please," Sarah gasped.

Leo hesitated, looking at Miriam.

The woman stirred again.

"Leo, please!" please!"

Miriam stayed Leo's hand.

The victim's eyes opened. Sarah glared at Miriam. "Miri!"

"Leo, don't you move!"

The woman said, "What the heck?" She started to sit up. Sarah pushed her down, nicked again with the fleam and locked her lips to the dirt-ringed neck. The woman said, "The f.u.c.k f.u.c.k!" Then she rattled along in her own language, obviously cursing. She squirmed; she tried to free her hands.

Sarah forced every iota of air out of her lungs. She distended her belly. She locked her lips tight to the neck, making the best seal she could. The woman flounced and struggled, but Miri held her head and made Leo lie across her midriff. The woman made rasping sounds - desperate attempts to scream.

Sarah sucked. The artery wall resisted, then gave way, spurting a flood of fresh, hot, salty blood straight down Sarah's gullet. The effect was a thousand times more powerful than a hit of the purest heroin ever made. From her toes to her head, her skin rippled and shivered. An o.r.g.a.s.m came, spreading through her until her whole body was a single, pulsing, vibrating dynamo of s.e.xual genius. Somewhere far away, she could hear Leo laughing and crying at the same time, and Miri's voice comforting her, saying soft things that she did not mean.

She sucked and she sucked, and the old voice went down to a growling babble. She sucked and the old heart came to a stop. And then the body went slack, and the flow went down.

Sarah drew back. Blood, very black, dribbled onto the table.

Leo was standing at the far end of the room, her eyes round, her face covered with tears. Miriam said, "Come here to me."

Leo shook her head.

Miri went to her and drew her by the wrist. "Watch!" "Watch!"

With one huge drag, Miriam did what no human being could ever do, no matter how evolved their technique. She emptied the woman of every trace of fluid that was in her. The skin sank back against the skull, drew tight, crackling as it turned to dry parchment. The eyeb.a.l.l.s withered, the clothes went slack around the body. And then Miriam came up, the corpse still popping and crackling as cartilage snapped and muscles twisted themselves into hard, narrow ropes.

Leo put her hands to her cheeks and screamed. Her eyes wild, she turned to run out the door.

Miriam was on her in an instant. She grabbed her collar, gave her a slap that snapped her head aside. "Shut up! You watch!" watch!" She glared toward Sarah, who was feeling the gorgeous postprandial levitation that came when you fed really well. Moral guilt had its limits. Now all was right with the world. Like an addict who has ridden the horse and lost, she was content with herself, made so by the charm of the drug that had seduced her. She glared toward Sarah, who was feeling the gorgeous postprandial levitation that came when you fed really well. Moral guilt had its limits. Now all was right with the world. Like an addict who has ridden the horse and lost, she was content with herself, made so by the charm of the drug that had seduced her.

"Sarah," Miri said, "take Leo down and show her how to do a proper burn. And I expect to see no ash, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Miri."

"I'm sorry, Miri!"Leo babbled, rubbing her cheek."I panicked."Leo went to the remnant, touched the skin that tented the face."This is incredible!"

"It's a small penalty to pay for eternal life, my dear. An occasional hobo goes to the Big Rock Candy Mountain."

Leo frowned. "The what?"

"Gets released from the toils of a miserable life," Sarah explained. Slang tended to enter Miriam's vocabulary with a fifty to hundred year lag time.

Leo would not touch the remnant, so Sarah threw it over her shoulder and took it down. In the bas.e.m.e.nt, Sarah said, "Having fun?"

"That's not appropriate," Leo said officiously. "A woman had to give her life."

"For me? Maybe I ought to kill myself."

"No, you have a right! Nature made you this way."

"Miriam Blaylock made me this way.And she's going to do it to you, too."

"Miriam Blaylock is is nature. And if she bloods me, it's going to be the biggest privilege of my life." They burned the remnant in a fire kept blue by Sarah's careful attendance at the controls. nature. And if she bloods me, it's going to be the biggest privilege of my life." They burned the remnant in a fire kept blue by Sarah's careful attendance at the controls.

As they were starting to ascend the stairs, Miriam said, "Come into the infirmary, please."

Sarah turned, surprised to find her down here. She was even more shocked when she saw that she was naked and all trace of makeup was removed. Her hair was coming back, a blond fuzz on her otherwise bald head.

Leo gasped. Sarah took her hand. "Don't be afraid," she said.

"But she's - "

"She's not a human being, Leo." Sarah was stirred by the long, lean body, the deep, dark eyes. This was a being she loved, who had covered her with wild kisses, who had expressed every shading of pa.s.sion upon her quivering, delighted body. No matter how much Sarah hated Miriam, she also loved her, and loved the fact that Miriam took pleasure in her. "You're my beautiful one," she would say, and kiss every part of her body, her lips, her eyes, her moist pudenda. "You pretty little angel, you dear, soft baby."

Leo made a terrified sound in her throat as the tall creature with the bright red eyes and wire-thin lips strode into the light. She took Leo's hand. Sarah knew that Leo was now trapped. Nothing the girl could do - no matter how hard she struggled and fought - would release her from that seemingly gentle grasp.

Sarah was horrified at what was happening - at how swiftly Miriam was acting, so that the girl had no time to consider her situation. But she was also fascinated because she had wondered about the scientific issues involved in the transfer process. She welcomed a chance to observe it clinically.

Miriam drew Leo into the infirmary, a superbly equipped laboratory designed by Sarah, who followed obediently along.

She was already being buoyed by the effects of her feeding. In an hour or so, the Sleep would come and she would take to bed, and Miri, as was traditional between them, would sing her a lullaby. The Sleep would take her, and as it did, she would deliver herself body and soul into the protective custody of her beloved and despised mistress.

Miriam had tamed Sarah, after a fashion. But so also, Sarah had tamed Miriam . . . after a fashion. Thus does a love affair between species proceed - wild creatures finding what is universal between them, sensual delight and what abides in the heart, that love can cross any boundary and flourish anywhere.

The blooding instrument - a black hose fitted with a small hand pump and two large silver needles - was already dangling from Miriam's arm, one enormous needle a gray shadow in the flesh above the crook of her elbow.

Leo was staring at it, her eyes practically popping out of her head. Stumbling, she followed Miriam into the small hospital room. Miriam patted the examination table. Leo sat.

"Get the ice packs," Miriam said.

"What ice packs?" Leo asked.

"We use ice packs in the procedure," Miriam said. "Now strip." She clapped her hands. "Chop chop!"

Leo threw off her clothes. She lay down on the table, arms rigidly at her sides. Miriam looked at Leo's arms. "Set it," she said to Sarah.

"I don't like needles," Leo said as Sarah stroked up a vein. How Sarah hated her now, the poor, scared little cow with her drippy nose and her big brown eyes.

Now this kid would get what she wanted. Later today, Sarah would take her to the attic, let her listen to the rustling, introduce her to who lay there.

"You will now be delivered of the blood of your eternal Keepers," she said. "You will become part of me and I of you. Do you understand this?"

Leo said in a tiny voice, "I think so."

"You will be given eternal life."

"Miri!"

Miriam cast a glance at Sarah so terrible that her jaw snapped shut.

"Eternal life! But you will be bonded to me by an unbreakable bond. You will be expected to serve me in every way, without question. There will never be an end to it. Do you understand this?"

Leo turned her tear-streaked face to Sarah, and Sarah saw there a call for rescue from the very depth of this human creature. A soul was being lost, and it knew that it was being lost. But she said nothing.

"Set the needle."

"N-no," Sarah said. "No!"

"You do it!"

"Leo, this is wrong!"

She tried to meet Leo's eyes, but Leo would not look at her. Miriam grabbed the needle and jammed it into Leo's arm. Leo cried out.

Sarah reset it properly, secured it with tape.

"You are free to go, Leo," Miriam said. "I haven't started yet."

"It hurts!"

"Again I say to you, you are free to go."

Leo began to cry.

Sarah was awed at what she was seeing. She had a sudden, electrifying insight into who the Keepers were, into what Miriam was. They were indeed a force of nature, and she thought that they might be killed, but they would never die. No matter who hunted the Keepers, the Keepers would always in one way or another wander the world, seeking the ruin of souls.

Miriam grasped the pump in her long, narrow fingers and crushed the bulb smartly. Leo flounced on the table, giving a loud cry. Again, Miriam pumped, and again. Leo's upper arm turned fiery red. She began to sweat.

"How does it feel?" Sarah asked.

"My arm's on fire!"