J picked up before the second ring. He sounded wideawake. If he had been asleep tonight, my mother had probably gotten him out of bed right after Benny and I left Scarsdale.

I decided on a preemptive strike, talking fast. "J, listen-no, don't talk. I don't have much time. Four of us are out in the Arthur Kill on a ship. The Belgium Belgium. She's a container ship registered in Cyprus. We think she was used as a dress rehearsal for taking the Intrepid Intrepid. But there's a problem. The crew's dead."

J told me in a flat voice that he'd get people on the scene and we should get the h.e.l.l out of there.

I asked him if we needed to come into the office.

"No. Report in tomorrow." He hung up without saying good-bye.

Dawn broke through the darkness around five thirty this time of year. It was not even three a.m. when the four of us leaped off the container ship and flew back toward the ferry terminal. We swooped under the bridge and hugged the sh.o.r.e, staying low near the water.

A wind had blown in from the east, off the Atlantic. Wet and cool, it whipped across my face. The bay had developed a chop. I saw whitecaps below me.

I didn't think much during the flight. I never did. I turned myself over to instinct, flitting and diving, more animal than intelligent being. For me this was the best part of being a vampire-the ability to lift free of earth without effort, to soar, to fly under my own power in a way humans could only dream of doing.

Clouds had moved in with the wind. I couldn't see the stars. There was no moon. Darkness lay above me, darkness lay below me, but inside me I saw light. Sometimes it dimmed, sometimes I doubted it existed at all, but when I flew as I did now, I was sure it was there.

Once we were all back on the ferry, clothed, in human form, and and en route to lower Manhattan, I asked the guys if they had plans for the rest of the night. en route to lower Manhattan, I asked the guys if they had plans for the rest of the night.

They were headed to Charlie's Harley Hangout on West Street, Rogue told me. He asked if Benny and I wanted to join them-if I thought I could behave and not get us kicked out on our a.s.ses.

I looked at Rogue. He sat back on a plastic seat, his arms behind his head. He wore a black T-shirt with the sleeves ripped out. It showed off his ma.s.sive arms with their rock-hard biceps and triceps. He saw me watching and flexed his muscles. Then he winked, the arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

As was his habit, he held a toothpick between his teeth. He'd replace it with a cigarette as soon as we landed. He would strike anyone as a tough guy, a biker, maybe an ex-con, someone not to be messed with. But no one would take him for a vampire.

Yet he was was a vampire, and bad to the bone. His lack of restraint, his brutality, and his immorality embodied the darkest parts of our race, all that I detested. I hadn't forgotten what he had done last night with the human girl. a vampire, and bad to the bone. His lack of restraint, his brutality, and his immorality embodied the darkest parts of our race, all that I detested. I hadn't forgotten what he had done last night with the human girl.

And I hadn't forgotten what I had done in Tompkins Square Park either. Until now I had been successful in pushing the memories out of my mind. But they were there, like shadows lurking and waiting to torment me.

I knew right then that I didn't want to return to my empty apartment. I would sit around until I was tired enough to climb into my coffin. Meanwhile I'd do the crossword puzzle. I'd listen for a knock on the door. Finally I'd stand by the window, looking out at the night, hoping Darius would appear, a dark angel descending from the sky. But I knew that tonight he would never come.

So when Rogue asked me to go to Charlie's, I answered without hesitation. "I'm in."

"Me too," Benny said.

Chapter 13.

"Not of those whom we care for most, do we easily suspect wickedness."-Peter Abelard, Historia Calamitatum Historia Calamitatum PORTA OCTAVA PORTA OCTAVA

For the rest of the trip back to Manhattan I stayed out on deck and watched the harbor lights. Benny remained inside the ferry, giving Cormac and Rogue a rundown on the letter delivered by Khan. She also planned to tell them about our visit to Mar-Mar's and the impending vampire hunter war. She might have told them about Audrey as well-or not. Rogue and Cormac had little interest in women's love lives.

Audrey's instant infatuation with Khan, a poleaxing of the first order, amused me. That kind of thing was not supposed to happen to her her. When I'd confessed my preference for human men, she'd looked aghast. She'd never never fall for a human. They were so inferior to vampires. It was just fall for a human. They were so inferior to vampires. It was just too too gauche. gauche.

Another case of never say never.

But I had lived much longer than Audrey, over two hundred years longer. I'd had time to learn that one must not predict the workings of the heart, human or vampire. It's tempting the G.o.ds to have some fun at your expense.

Eros scored a direct hit with his arrow in the Gilt room. He must have been laughing his head off tonight.

A cloud of stale cigarette smoke lay so thick in Charlie's Harley Hangout that breathing didn't come easily. But the crowd had thinned out as the hours moved toward dawn. The blonde tending bar looked dead on her feet. The purple smudges under her eyes had faded to black. She managed a smile when I walked in and gave me a thumbs-up.

I was getting a reputation as a bada.s.s. I wondered if I wanted it.

Benny still wore her little black dress. I had on my Mandalay gown. Our fashionable attire was a poor fit for the testosterone-driven ambience created by the bar's oil-rig theme spiked with eau de Budweiser.

Over in one corner I spotted Cowboy Sam. He tipped his hat and gave me a smile that could easily turn into a promise. I tried not to encourage him. I gave him a noncommittal nod.

Rogue led our party to a table in the back of the room, paused to light a cigarette, then excused himself. Benny and I pulled out chairs and sat. Cormac offered to take our bar order. I wanted nothing stronger than mineral water. Benny asked for a light beer.

When Cormac came back, his hands full, he set a bottle of Guinness in front of me.

"Live it the f.u.c.k up," he said.

He put down a Coors for Benny, then two bottles of Bud, one for himself and one for Rogue. Monkey see, monkey do. Cormac was still seriously into hero worship.

Rogue returned to the table carrying a large brown box. He set it down next to my chair, took a minute to use his cigarette b.u.t.t to light a fresh cancer stick, then said, "That's for you."

"What is it?" I asked, nudging it with my foot. My suspicions came into play immediately. I had played a really dirty trick on Rogue by handcuffing him to my bed. Maybe it was payback time.

"Open it" he said, taking a deep drag of his Camel and exhaling a long stream of smoke.

I reached down and pulled the box closer. It was heavy. I looked in. Something leather? I pulled it out.

I held up a cla.s.sic black motorcycle jacket made of horsehide. From its cut and careful detailing, I knew it had been hand-sewn by a skilled craftsperson. I turned the jacket over, bloods club had been painted in red across the back. A white skull and crossbones appeared beneath it. Oh, goody, just my style Oh, goody, just my style.

There was more in the box. I found a pair of black leather pants, and they were were my style, along with a pair of heavy square-toed boots, Fryes, just like I favored. In my size too. my style, along with a pair of heavy square-toed boots, Fryes, just like I favored. In my size too.

"What's this for?" I asked, baffled by the gift.

"A thank-you would be nice," Rogue said.

"Thank you. What's this for?" I repeated.

"You saved my a.s.s last night. You fight like a club member. You don't take s.h.i.t from n.o.body. Lady, you are a genuine ballbuster. But you've been going it alone too long. We all decided it's time you had some brothers."

I opened my mouth to speak. Words failed me. Unexpected tears tightened my throat. I had been going it alone since the sixteenth century. Being a vampire is its own kind of brotherhood, but at their core vampires are solitary and self-absorbed. We are not pack animals.

When I joined the Darkwings I had found a kind of family. United by purpose and danger, we vowed to stay together. I had already felt the loss of two of its members. But this-this bond of friendship, this band of brothers-was being given to me unasked. The reason? Because I was wanted wanted.

Finally I managed to say, "And what does all this mean, exactly?"

Rogue sat down and drank half his beer before he answered. "It means you are now a club member. Any of us gets in trouble, you're there. You're in trouble, we're there. You need something, we take care of it. And you can ride with me."

"Ride with you? Riding b.i.t.c.h? Uh, thank you, but I don't-"

"Oh, for s.h.i.t's sake. What are you thinking? You ride your own bike, not mine."

"But I don't have a bike," I said, stating the obvious.

Rogue put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Sam the cowboy got up from his table and sauntered over, weaving his way through the mostly empty tables.

A truly adorable guy, Sam gave me a sweet smile, then said, "Yeah, Rogue?"

"Tell her," Rogue said.

Sam's eyes enjoyed me for moment, his smile a little wider. "Rogue said y'all were looking for a bike. I found one for you."

I regarded Rogue with astonishment. The man had lost his mind. "You think I'm going to buy a motorcycle?"

"h.e.l.l, no. I already bought it for you. You don't know your a.s.s from your elbow when it comes to bikes. You can buy the next one yourself."

"The next one," I echoed.

I felt as if I had gone through the looking gla.s.s and stepped into an upside-down world. Any moment now the Red Queen was going to appear, screaming, "Off with her head."

Rogue glanced at Sam. "Where did you put it?"

"Out back," Sam replied.

Rogue turned his attention to me. "You can't ride wearing that thing you've got on. Why don't you go change." It was not a question; it was an order.

"Come on, Daphne," Benny said. "I'll go to the ladies' with you."

It was a G.o.dd.a.m.n conspiracy. I picked up my Guinness and drank it down. All of it. Then I stood, pushing the chair back from the table. "Okay, let's take a ride."

"Oh, my G.o.d. You look so hot," Benny said as she studied me wearing my motorcycle jacket, pants, and boots.

"I don't know about looking hot, but I feel as if I'm going to pa.s.s out. It's June, not January."

"Now, Daphne, don't you go complaining. You need to wear them clothes when you ride. You don't want be like those d.a.m.ned fools who go sixty miles an hour wearing shorts and flip-flops. They wipe out and you know what happens?"

"Do I want to know?"

"Their flesh turns right to hamburger meat. Ground round. The road surface strips the skin and muscle right off down to the bone," she told me.

"Thank you for that," I said. "I think I just changed my mind about going through with this insanity."

"Oh, don't be a silly duck. You aren't going to get hurt, and besides, you're wearing protection. Those pants fit you like a second skin. That poor guy Sam is like to lose his mind. He's cute, ain't he?"

"Don't even go there. He is cute. But I'm not interested."

"Maybe you should be, girlfriend. Everybody I talked to says he's a nice guy."

"If he's so great, why is he in here alone all the time?"

"I hear he had a really bad breakup. You know how that goes. He sure is interested in you, though."

"Nice try, but I told you, I don't want to date him. Even if I weren't with Darius, Sam is not for me."

"And why not? You just said you thought he was cute."

"He's cute for a vampire alcoholic who spends his nights hanging out in a biker bar. Benny, I have nothing in common with a man like that," I said, folding my dress and picking up my kicky sandals.

Benny stretched out her hands and took them from me. "I'll get a sack to carry these things in. I'll take them on home. You go on out to see your bike."

I sighed. "Okay, I guess I'd better get it over with."

We left the ladies' room and I headed for the back door. Benny called to me: "Daphne?"

I stopped and looked back. "What?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Just what do you have in common with Darius?"

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't what I got.

First off, the motorcycle looked powerful enough to fly. Second, it was red. And fancy. Lots of chrome. Western fringe hung down around the long seat, and black leather saddlebags with real silver conchos were on the rear wheels.