He nodded. "He had a standing appointment. Hand removal every night at dusk for three months."

Sasha shuddered. "How did you put up with that place?"

"Not very well." He gave her an apologetic look. "I guess that shot the romantic mood all to hell."

"It wasn't exactly romantic. More like plain lust." She grinned wryly. "But, yeah, kind of."

"Sorry."

He joined her on the bed and put an arm around her. "Should we watch a movie and cuddle? We could act like mortals for a couple of hours."

"That sounds nice," she said, though she wasn't sure why. Not long ago she would have sworn that was about the last thing she would ever want to do with a man. "Pick a flick."

His choice surprised her, as had many other things about him, and they were a half-hour into My Best Friend's Wedding when someone knocked on the door.

"Shit," said Sasha.

"I'll get it." Rafael hit the pause button on the DVD player and went to the door.

It was Dr. Greene. Sasha peered around Rafael to see him standing in the hallway. He was wearing his white lab coat and a concerned expression.

"What's up?" Rafael asked.

"I've been doing some work in the lab," the doctor said. "I need to talk to both of you."

Sasha followed Rafael to Dr. Greene's office. Julian was waiting for them, sober, performing complex finger gymnastics with a stubby pencil. He said nothing, though, letting Dr. Greene run the show.

"I've been performing these experiments at Julian's request," Dr.

Greene explained to Rafael, who nodded.

"Sasha told me something about it. It sounds like a good idea."

"Yes. Anyway, it looks like I've found the right combination of elements. I'm not sure how it works, exactly, but I've gotten a significant sample of juvenile vampiric blood to return to a normal, human state."

Sasha glanced at Julian. His expression told her nothing. He twiddled the pencil in and out, around and between his fingers. That guy should have never stopped smoking, she thought.

Dr. Greene passed around a sheet of paper with color pictures of blood cells in two different squares. The blood cells in the left-hand square were thinner and sparser than those in the right-hand square.

Sasha skimmed the text below the pictures, but it was all in medicalese and made no sense to her.

"What does this have to do with us?" she asked.

"To put it bluntly," Julian said, "we need a guinea pig."

Sasha blinked. "But this is just for the kids. The little kids. Like Daniel."

"Yes, but I don't want the doctor to test the procedure on the younger Children."

"Daniel's, like, two hundred years older than I am," Sasha protested.

"Yes, but he's a ten-year-old, psychologically," Dr. Greene put in.

"I've spoken with him, as well as several of the other younger Children, and I don't think any of them would be suitable candidates for this phase of the testing."

Sasha narrowed her eyes at him. "Because it might not work?"

"Partially, yes. But also because I don't think any of them are prepared to comprehend what a return to mortality would mean. They weren't mortal long enough to remember, so many years later, what it was like."

Julian switched the pencil to his left hand, which, Sasha noted, was nearly as nimble as the right. "You two were Turned as teenagers,"

he said. "You can remember mortality. Thus you're capable of making an informed decision."

Rafael looked flummoxed. "I thought . . . I mean, I was assuming that in order for this to work, the vampire would have to have been Turned before puberty."

Dr. Greene nodded. "I was working on that assumption, too. But it appears that's not the case. It has more to do with achievement of adult growth. I need to do some tests on both of you, but I have a feeling you'll both be eligible." "What kind of tests?" Sasha asked.

"X-rays. Quick and painless."

She crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "What if I don't want to be mortal again?" The thought, quite frankly, repulsed her. She liked her power, her strength. She liked knowing she would never have to die.

"Then you don't have to participate," said Julian, balancing the pencil on the backs of his knuckles.

She stood. "Let's go, Rafael. I don't want anything to do with this."

But Rafael remained in his chair, looking not at Sasha, but at the doctor. "I'll take the tests," he said quietly. "If I'm eligible, count me in."

Mortal again. Rafael could barely bend his brain around the concept.

But having been Turned only four years ago, he had no trouble remembering what being alive was like. It hadn't been that long ago.

He remembered the sun especially, heat and light on his skin. And suddenly he remembered what pancakes tasted like-remembered so vividly it made his mouth water.

But Sasha was staring at him as if he'd completely lost his mind.

"Are you nuts? Do you remember what mortality means? It means you die."

He frowned at her, the ghost-flavor of maple syrup still lingering on his tongue. "Yeah. Generally. What's your point?"

"My point is you're an idiot." She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Dr. Greene blinked at the reverberation. "I'd say that was a 'no.'"

"How long before we know for sure? If we're eligible, I mean?"

Rafael asked. He couldn't worry about Sasha's reaction, not with this huge, beautiful possibility looming in front of him.

"A couple of days," said the doctor. "I'll get back to you."

Rafael nodded. A couple of days. It seemed, suddenly, like a lifetime.

He lay in bed just before dawn, thinking about it. At least he didn't have to worry about it keeping him awake. As soon as the sun rose, he'd be asleep, regardless of what preyed on his mind. There was no such thing as vampire insomnia.

He didn't want to spend too much time obsessing about it, though.

So he turned his mind to the other thing Julian had asked him about- the litany.

Brigitte had said it every morning just before daylight. Rafael knew it was a secret thing, something only the privileged few were supposed to know. This was precisely the reason he'd paid attention to it, since, otherwise, it had seemed like so much gibberish. But he wasn't supposed to know it, so of course he'd done his best to eavesdrop.

The one who feeds on life. What the hell did that mean? And what was the next line? The one who feeds on life holds power beyond the one who eats death. Bring the First Ones. Feed.

That couldn't be all of it. It was too short, and it made no sense.

But that was all he remembered.

Ah, there was the sun. Weariness pulled him under in a deep, soft flood.

Three.

He spoke to Julian the next evening.

The Underground's leader laboriously transcribed the brief, practically nonsensical words, then laid the piece of paper on his desk and frowned at it. Thinking, Rafael supposed.

After several minutes, Julian raised his head and looked at him. "You and Sasha have been staying fairly close to home, I hope?" he said.

Rafael gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Yeah, I guess." The farthest they'd strayed was Sasha's thinking place, and there he'd still been able to sense the thick layers of ancient magic that kept the Underground camouflaged. Even Ialdaboth's inner sanctums weren't as well-warded as this place.

Julian gave him a dubious look. "Well, if you have been wandering, I suggest you stop. A couple of our people went to Atlantic City night before last and haven't come back."

Rafael's stomach clenched. An overreaction, surely. "Atlantic City's a long way from here. Anything could have happened."

"It's not that far, but you're right," Julian said. "It could have been anything. Traffic, sunlight, the frigging Jersey Devil for all I know. Maybe they're still down there whoring. But it won't hurt you to be careful."

"How well protected are we here?"

"Very. But the protection I've been able to provide for the others may be less effective for you because of your blood ties to Ialdaboth.

Lilith was tracked here-they might be able to find you, too."

"So it's best to stay under the city," Rafael concluded.

Julian nodded. "Yes. Most of Manhattan is fairly safe for most of us-the magic leaks upward, through the ground, and scrambles any interloper's sensing abilities pretty thoroughly. Still, if I were you, I'd be especially cautious. If you have no need to go to the surface, don't."

Rafael didn't even consider objecting. He had no desire to skulk around Manhattan looking for victims, anyway. Especially if there was any risk of being discovered by Ialdaboth's minions. "I'll keep that in mind," he said.

"Good." Julian gave him a vague smile. "Thanks for your help.

You can go now."

Relieved at the abrupt dismissal-he still felt unsettled around vampiric authority figures-Rafael made his way to the hospital wing.

He let himself into Aanu's room and stood next to the strange, silver hyperbaric chamber where lay the bones he'd unwittingly guarded for six months, day in and day out, doing what he was told, to keep from being killed.

Except they weren't bones anymore. The body was almost completely healed. Muscles had formed, filling in the outlines of a large, strong body. Yesterday he'd sat for three hours watching lungs build, layer by layer. Today they were covered by a thin layer of muscle and connective tissue that bound the ribs together. If he stood at the front window of the chamber, he could see the heart beating. Aanu's heart.

That was this body's-this man's-name.

What would it be like for him, coming back to life after four thousand years? Would he be able to remember how to walk? How to speak? How to breathe? What did it feel like, being remade layer by layer?

What would it feel like to be mortal again?

Rafael could understand Sasha's reaction. She'd been a vampire for three centuries, and in spite of Dr. Greene's assumptions that she remembered what it was like to be mortal, Rafael doubted she really did. Plus she seemed to enjoy being a vampire. That was fine, he supposed, if you could find a way to make peace with the darker aspects of the lifestyle. He'd never been able to do that, maybe because he'd had the misfortune of being Turned by one of Ialdaboth's followers. He had a feeling, though, that it wouldn't have mattered who Turned him.

He'd never be totally at peace with vampire-ness no matter the circumstances. Something changed inside the hyperbaric chamber. Rafael blinked, not sure at first what it was, then realized he couldn't see the beating heart anymore. Another layer of muscle had finished forming over Aanu's ribcage. It wouldn't be long, he figured, until skin started to grow. He wondered how long it would be before Aanu woke up. If he woke up.

"How is he?"

The voice startled him. A woman's voice. Brigitte. She was ready for him. Ready to hurt him. Old reflexes kicked in, and he spun around, hands crossed at the wrist protectively in front of him. Then, abruptly, he dropped them to his sides, embarrassed. It was only Sasha. He hadn't seen her since she'd stormed out of Dr. Greene's office the previous night. Strangely, he'd missed her. He shifted, looking everywhere but directly at her.

She frowned. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." He gestured weakly toward the silver chamber. "He's . . . I don't know. How do you tell? He doesn't have any skin yet."

Sasha walked up and looked in one of the small round windows.

"Wow. He looks a hell of a lot further along than he did yesterday."

Rafael nodded. "I wonder what he'll say, first thing when he wakes up?"

"No telling. It won't be English, though."

He hadn't thought of that. But of course, the guy had been dead for four thousand years. What languages would he know? Some ancient Egyptian or Babylonian tongue? Would there be anybody here who could talk to him?

"Where were you born?" he asked her suddenly, not sure why he wanted to know.

"Belarus, I think they call it now," she said. She touched his elbow, hesitant. It was as if she barely knew him. Certainly she wasn't acting as if they'd been cavorting naked not that long ago. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For shutting you out. I shouldn't have."

He shrugged. "Why not? We barely know each other."