She slapped Sarah so hard she went flying. Then Miriam was on her again, shaking her, screaming and smashing her head again and again into the floor. Sarah saw stars; the world reeled; she screamed, screamed again.

Miriam went to her feet, lithe and quick, glaring down at her. Then she was back again, her eyes glowing, her narrow lips twisted in some expression so alien that Sarah couldn't even begin to interpret it.

She kissed Sarah. Then she lifted her and helped her to a chair. She knelt before her and kissed her hands. "I'm sorry. Sorry. I'm just - " She made a small sound, the snarl of a hurt tiger. "I'm feeling things I've never felt before." She laid her head in Sarah's lap. Now she was weeping. "When I last had a baby in me, I was so so protected. We owned Egypt! We lived in walled compounds. The wealth, the power - you can't even begin to imagine! But now - I've got my last baby and I need to feel safe and I don't!" protected. We owned Egypt! We lived in walled compounds. The wealth, the power - you can't even begin to imagine! But now - I've got my last baby and I need to feel safe and I don't!"

Sarah stroked her hair. She looked down at the lithe, powerful body in the magnificent b.u.t.terfly robe, a garment made in China six hundred years ago, of thousands of individual bits of silk sewed together with tiny st.i.tches. It was like a cloud of b.u.t.terflies, this robe. Miri wore it casually, but that did not change the fact that it could easily be the most beautiful garment presently on earth.

Sarah had always been a lonely sort of a soul, but Miriam was really really alone. Her baby had been her hope - Sarah realized that now - her one hope to relieve the despair that lay concealed behind the elegance and the headlong decadence that filled her time. alone. Her baby had been her hope - Sarah realized that now - her one hope to relieve the despair that lay concealed behind the elegance and the headlong decadence that filled her time.

When she found out that this baby was a fata morgana, a mirage, she was going to be absolutely devastated.

Paul knew he was alive because of the pain. From his waist to his neck, he was a ma.s.s of sheer agony. His breath was coming in light little gulps, but he felt no air hunger, so he knew there was oxygen running.

He inventoried his body, working from training and long experience. He could wiggle his toes and hands, and lift his arms. That was good. He was too weak to lift his legs. That was not good. The left side of his neck ached. That must be a healing wound where that b.i.t.c.h had tried to suck his blood. His chest was gunshot real bad. There was bubbling when he inhaled, which meant that his lung capacity was dangerously low.

He was looking up, at least, into the ceiling of a hospital room. He could hear monitors beeping, and he could see an IV.

How the h.e.l.l he had ever gotten himself to a hospital, he could not for the life of him imagine, but he d.a.m.n well had. His self-evaluation told him that he had been shot in the left lung, which had resulted in aspiration pneumonia, caused by blood and debris. There wasn't any fever, so whatever antibiotics were in that drip were clearly doing their job. Also, the pain was diffuse, not concentrating on a certain spot the way it did when you had a bullet in you. Okay, so he'd been operated on. How much of the lung was left in there he had no idea. Maybe none, the way it felt.

Altogether, he had been in worse shape than this and come out of it okay. So, great, he was going to have himself a killing spree as soon as he recuperated . . . unless, of course, his presence in this intensive care ward meant that he was back in the hands of the Company.

After a long five minutes, Miriam came up off Sarah's lap. The red eyes glared up at her. Instinct made Sarah cringe back away from her. Miriam sucked in breath. Sarah realized what was happening: she was hearing something.

"Is it Paul Ward?" But a glance at one of the monitors that had been set up in every room said that he wasn't the issue. He was stirring from the woozy state induced by his Valium drip, but he came in and out of consciousness three or four times a day. His lung capacity was too low to allow him to be fully awake.

Miriam came to her feet, catlike. In an instant, she was at the front door, listening against the thick mahogany. Then she rushed across the foyer into the music room, sat down at the piano, and - of all things - began to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata Moonlight Sonata. The vision of the cloud of b.u.t.terflies floating around that narrow, incredibly graceful being was heart-stopping. She played with a touch as soft as a dusting of snow.

Sarah watched the great front door. The lock clicked. The handle moved. Leo's face appeared. From its flush, Sarah knew at once that she had fed. Hearing the music, seeing Sarah sitting with her head back against her chair, Leo's nervous face smoothed. All seemed well to her, all at peace.

Sarah could not imagine the reason for the false tableau. It was as if Miri didn't believe that Leo would come in unless she was lured by an artificial appearance of serenity. Perhaps Miriam overestimated Leo's intelligence, because she was entirely deceived.

She came strolling in, smiling a conspiratorial smile at Sarah. There was blood on her blue T-shirt, more on her jeans.

"Where's the remnant?" Sarah hissed. Leo tried to go around her. Sarah grabbed her collar. "Where is it?"

"Leave me alone!"

"Leo, where the h.e.l.l is it where the h.e.l.l is it?"

Miriam played on, seemingly oblivious.

"None of your business," Leo sneered.

"Did you leave it on the street - for G.o.d's sake, answer me!"

"If you must know, it's in the East River. And so is that stupid toy of yours."

Sarah felt a nervous twinge in her left eye. "What toy?"

"Oh, that thing - that stupid thing went all the way in his neck."

"You left my fleam in your victim?"

"I couldn't get it out!"

"Jesus!"

Leo tried again to go around her.

That d.a.m.n bunch of vampires had been smart, real smart. They'd played him like a piano. G.o.d only knew how many of the parasites infected that filthy club. And the house - this vampire was a rich b.i.t.c.h, wasn't she? She was light-years beyond the others. Kill this one, and you got the queen bee. Just like that really human looking one in Paris. Just like Mrs. Tallman.

Holy s.h.i.t - maybe they were one and the same. And maybe, if it was in any way still in his power, he was going to really strike a blow when he destroyed the d.a.m.n creature. It had fooled him totally. Even making love to it had felt great, better than making love to a real woman. A f.u.c.king animal had tricked him into s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g it, and that made him even angrier.

His throat had the metallic taste that you get when you're having electrolytes pumped through your body. He wanted water and food.

"Nurse?" he called.

He listened. Whatever hospital he was in, it was as quiet as a d.a.m.n tomb. Probably an isolation ward for cases with cla.s.sified material. He felt around for a call b.u.t.ton, found one attached to the headboard.

Thing was, when he pressed it, who was going to come through the door - a sweet little nurse or Justin Turk? His money was on Turk. They'd been on his tail, for sure. Whenever he'd gotten into trouble before, the Company had very kindly rescued him.

So maybe he wouldn't be free to kill the filth. G.o.dd.a.m.nit, maybe he ought to get up and bust out of here before it was too late. Unless it was already too d.a.m.n late.

He actually started to raise himself, thinking to pull out the IV and take off. He felt pretty strong, except for his breathing. But if he tried this, he'd violate a rule that had kept him alive over his entire career: Never attack into the unknown. If all you knew was who was there, or supposed to be there, that was enough. But if you knew nothing, then you had to wait.

So he'd get the lay of things, build up his strength. Right now, what he wanted was a big rib eye, but a cup of broth would do. He pressed the b.u.t.ton again. Nothing happened. Typical, probably meant this was some VA hole. He pressed it again, harder.

Sarah watched the monitor. Faintly, she heard the buzzing as Ward struggled to get some attention. He was more awake now than he'd been since the surgery five days ago. She thought, He's healing. He's healing. She could not help but feel a little professional pride. She'd brought a man back who should be dead. She could not help but feel a little professional pride. She'd brought a man back who should be dead.

The music stopped. Miriam got up. She turned and came toward them, the b.u.t.terfly robe billowing behind her, a cigarette fuming between her narrow lips, her eyes flashing. "Where the h.e.l.l were you?" she snarled.

"Me?"

Miriam's eyes met Sarah's. "The remnant's exposed," Sarah said. "My fleam was left in the neck."

Miriam went up to Leo. Long fingers grabbed her throat. "This is how you repay me?"

Leo pulled away from her. "I threw the guy in the f.u.c.king East River. He's gone."

"A body is never gone unless it's burned," Miriam shouted.

Once or twice, she'd alluded to the fact that she had done away with human companions who hadn't worked out. Sarah thought for a moment that she was going to finish Leo right now, right here on the marble floor of the foyer.

But then Miriam threw back her head and laughed. It was strange laughter, almost silent. "Come with me," she told Leo.

"Come where?"

Miriam grabbed her wrist and dragged her off up the stairs. Sarah got up to follow. Miriam stopped her. "My husband is calling," she said. "Can't you hear him?"

Paul heard a sound beyond the room's closed door. He'd punched the call b.u.t.ton about fifty times. He shifted in the bed. "Nurse," he said. The single word ran him out of breath, and he sank back against his pillow sucking oxygen.

When Sarah Roberts's face came into his view, he was so surprised that he delivered a croaking "Oh, s.h.i.t!"

She was a vision of absolute beauty, her eyes glittering like coals. He tried to lift his arms, to strike out at her, but something stopped him.

He was cuffed to the bed. "Christ!"

"You're healing," Sarah said.

He inventoried his situation. Both wrists were cuffed to a length of chain fastened to the bed, along with both ankles. He had about two feet of travel, which was why he hadn't noticed until he began trying to move.

"Where the h.e.l.l am I?"

"In my infirmary." She came over to him. He got ready to grab for her. "I'm a doctor, you know."

"Yeah, that's believable."

"You've survived a lung wound from a three-fifty-seven with an exploding tip. I think it oughta be d.a.m.n believable."

"You kill people for food. How can you be a doctor?"

Sarah came closer to him. "I need to examine the wound," she said. Her tone, which had been carefully neutral, now seemed sullen - or no, sad. It seemed sad.

He prepared to make a grab for her. He didn't know what he'd do next. All he knew was this: he was in the worst situation he'd ever been in, and he had to do whatever he could to get out of it.

She tossed back the sheet, barely glancing at his nakedness. She drew back the dressing that covered the left half of his chest.

As she gazed at the wound, a sound came through the open door. Somebody out there was screaming, and horribly. Even as he lay here, somewhere else in the house, the vampires were killing.

His speed was not up to its usual standard, but he managed to grab Sarah's arm. Bandages flew from her hand as he yanked her to him.

He found himself staring down the barrel of his own d.a.m.n pistol.

"G.o.d d.a.m.n you," he said.

"G.o.d d.a.m.n you! If it wasn't for her, you'd be dead, you vicious b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

She reached up to his IV, opened the c.o.c.k. His attention wandered. She seemed to sway, then to float above him like a madonna ascending to heaven.

The screams rose and fell like a terrible wind in a winter tree. Sarah Roberts's eyes bored into him - cold, indifferent, murderous. Despite his pounding, relentless hate, his anguished hunger to rise from the bed, knock that gun aside, and physically rip her head from her body, he sank into sleep. The awful screams wove themselves into a dark and nameless nightmare that the drugs in the IV soon transformed into an empty, aimless void.

Miriam held Leo's wrist and would not let go, not even as the slow, dry hand came and closed around her fingers. Leo felt the strange, dry strength of the corpse; she saw the spark of life in the withered eyes.

She couldn't look at it. She couldn't bear it's touch. But she also couldn't understand what this awful place was, and above all, what was the matter here.

"Open your eyes!" Miriam said. "Look at it!"

"I am! But what - why - "

"You stupid little cow - didn't you think there'd be something - some price to pay?"

"Make it let me go! Let me go!"

Miriam dragged her away from John's coffin. His clinging fingers caused the corpse to rise up, then, as its grip failed, to fall back with a dusty thud. Miriam slammed the lid.

"But he's not dead! We have to help him!"

"How compa.s.sionate you are." She marched her over to Sarah's coffin. "This is where your friend came from."

"What friend?"

"Sarah. That dreary zombie."

"Zombie?"

"After I blooded her, she cut her own wrists. But she's clever. She left me the knowledge I needed to bring her back." She gazed toward John Blaylock's coffin. "Too bad it was too late for him."

"But they - I don't get it!"

"Now that my blood is in your veins, Leonore, you cannot die. You're not like us. We don't have souls. But you do have one, and my blood has bound it forever to your body." She glanced around the room, tossed her head. "This is your fate."

Leo stood up. She backed away from Miriam. She had to get out of this awful place; she had to find a cure for herself. This was - it was unimaginable. And she had to kill - to stop this from happening to her, she had to kill and kill for the rest of her . . . time.

"Sarah's become servile. She's not an independent soul. She's boring and I hate to be bored. I hate it!"

"Bored?"

"You have no f.u.c.king idea! This isn't life, always hiding, creeping in the shadows. I'm a princess, not a d.a.m.ned sneak thief! I want the philosophers, the kings about me, not the sleazy gaggle of decadents I attract now."

Leo had never known a thought this strange, this subtle, but her mind at last grasped the terror of her situation. "You've stolen me from myself," she said. She felt wonder at the evil, the cunning of it. "I'm a slave."

"No! No! No! Not like her, you aren't. When I resurrected her, her will was gone. She knows it, but there's nothing she can do about it. She even went to Haiti, to try to learn about zombies, to understand her predicament." She laughed a little. "By all the stars in heaven, she's Not like her, you aren't. When I resurrected her, her will was gone. She knows it, but there's nothing she can do about it. She even went to Haiti, to try to learn about zombies, to understand her predicament." She laughed a little. "By all the stars in heaven, she's boring! boring!" She yanked Leo's hand. "You're going to be great. You've got a mind of your own. You went out there and fed, against my specific rule. You did it your your way. You know how that makes me feel?" She grasped Leo's hand, glanced back toward John's coffin. "Ever since he died, I've been alone. Now I'm not." way. You know how that makes me feel?" She grasped Leo's hand, glanced back toward John's coffin. "Ever since he died, I've been alone. Now I'm not."

"What about Sarah?"

"You are foolish, though. But never mind, you've got excellent basic intelligence. I will educate you. Do you know what you're going to be? Why I've taken you into my home?"

"G.o.d that I did."

"You're going to be governess to my son."

"Husband,"the vampire said,"you're awake at last. Welcome, welcome back!"

He didn't have any idea how to react to that particular gambit. But you never knew what an animal as smart as these things might come up with.

The vampire took his hand in the same slim fingers that he had kissed. He felt his gut wobbling at the thought that he had ever touched his lips to its skin . . . let alone the other things he had done. It pressed his hand against its belly.

"Do you feel him?"