The face was made of harsh lines, the pale eyes a strange contrast to the low, glowering forehead and dark brows. He looked more like Ialdaboth than Lucien.

"The Book " he said, and the last word drained out into a sort of broken, wordless mumble.

Julian blinked awake, immediately alert and focused on what he'd just heard. So there was something from the Book, something they hadn't yet found. Of course. No point in having everything be straightforward or easy. There were verses still missing, and he would have to find them.

At least, now, for the first time, he had some idea where to look.

Lorelei woke abruptly. Something was wrong, but she wasn't sure what. Inside her, one of the babies moved. It was a subtle sensation still-a sort of wave motion-not enough to have awakened her. Slowly, she sat up.

Vaguely, she remembered Julian having come to bed, remembered moving up against him in the night. But he was gone now, and she was once again alone. She'd gotten used to waking alone, since Julian wasn't much for sleeping these days. But for some reason, this time, his absence bothered her.

She sat up and turned, still under the covers, putting her feet on the floor. Her head spun a little. This morning sickness was never going to go away.

She heard Julian mumbling in the other room. He couldn't get his head out of the Book these days. The answers were there, he insisted, though she wasn't so sure. She had a feeling he was missing something.

He must be. If he'd had all the pieces, as much time as he'd spent working on the puzzle, he would have solved it long ago.

Slowly, Lorelei stood. Her head went revolving again, and she waited for it to settle, then padded into the other room.

Julian sat hunched over the computer, fingers tapping softly on the table in a meaningless rhythm. His brow was creased in a deep frown of concentration and frustration.

"Shit," he whispered, then closed his eyes. After a moment he opened them again and started tapping the table again.

"Julian?" Lorelei ventured.

He turned to look at her and smiled wearily. "Hey."

"Making any progress?"

"Not so you'd notice." He leaned back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling, then looked at her again. "How are you doing?"

"Okay."

"You look a little pale."

"I kind of feel like I'm going to vomit," she admitted with a wry smile. Then the smile faded. "Is something wrong? I mean besides the usual. Is he closer?"

Julian frowned. "Why?"

"I just feel . . . I don't know. I woke up scared, sort of, I guess."

"He's closer." The soft matter-of-factness of his voice bothered her more than any overt indication of fear he might have displayed.

"He's closer and I don't know what to do about it."

She slid a hand protectively over the soft swell of her abdomen, not aware she was doing it until her fingers brushed across the silk of her pajama shirt. "Aanu will be awake soon. He'll help."

"Maybe. But what if he doesn't remember anything?"

Another slow, rolling sensation in her womb made Lorelei clench her fingers against herself, holding the movement closer, protecting it.

Warmth passed into her palm, bringing with it a feeling of certainty, of reassurance.

"He'll remember," she said, and she knew it was true.

Morning was climbing the sky. Julian could feel it. He'd left behind the involuntary vampiric Sleep, but his strong sense of the rhythm of the daylight hadn't faded. The knowledge that it was bright outside made him twitchy, restless. So when Lorelei elected to return to bed, he headed for the medical wing of the Underground.

Halfway there, he nearly collided with Dr. Greene, who was hurrying down the corridor, looking harried.

"He's awake," the doctor said, breathless. "At least, I think he is."

They half-ran the rest of the way together, Julian wishing his new powers included Lucien's neat teleportation trick. "Where's Lucien?"

he asked.

Dr. Greene shook his head. "I'm not sure. He was by earlier, but I don't know where he went when he left."

"We need to find him."

"He'll find us," Dr. Greene said, pushing open the door to Aanu's room. "He always does."

The doctor was right, for Lucien was already there, standing next to the hyperbaric chamber, peering in through the glass. "He's awake."

"Thanks for the news flash," Dr. Greene said dryly. Lucien quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think he's entirely conscious yet, though."

Julian went to stand next to him, looking down at Aanu's face through the window in the hyperbaric chamber. His eyes were open, but he looked dazed, disconnected.

"I can help him," Julian said.

"Are you sure?" Dr. Greene eyed him narrowly. "It's been less than twelve hours since your last session with him."

Julian shrugged. Sometimes the healing sessions left him drained, but more often, he was manic in the aftermath, energized to a point that it was sometimes hard to control. "I know. It doesn't matter. I can help him."

Dr. Greene nodded. "All right, then. I'll get him ready."

It was different, in an odd way that Julian couldn't quite define. It just felt different. He laid his hands on Aanu's bare chest, and Aanu's eyes flicked toward him, looking into his face without recognition or visible comprehension. As if the acknowledgement were little more than a reflex.

"It's all right," Julian murmured. "It's going to be fine."

He let his palms shift, until both hands were in complete contact with Aanu's skin, and wondered what exactly was going to be all right.

Aanu? Certainly he would be fine, probably within a matter of hours. A day at the most. But how long did they have until the shit that was Ialdaboth hit the fan?

He pushed that ever-present question out of his head. He couldn't afford the energy required to think about it, not if he wanted to help Aanu.

Aanu's skin was warm. That surprised Julian for some reason. It had been warm before, but not this warm. It was human-warm now.

Lorelei-warm. He closed his eyes, feeling the energy moving beneath his hands. It, too, felt different today, less fragmented, its rhythms steadier. Aanu's heartbeat was stronger, as well, more regular. Julian let himself fall into that rhythm, the slow, steady drumbeat. The indigo pulsations seemed to wrap around his hands, where he drew them in, magnified them, fed from them, let them drain back out of him and into Aanu.

It was endless, a suspended, eternal moment, like an orgasm.

Then Aanu took a deep, gasping breath, and Julian opened his eyes.

Aanu was looking up at him, lucid, his pale eyes full of disbelief edging on fear.

"It's all right," Julian said again. "It's all right." But Aanu only stared, uncomprehending.

From behind him, Julian heard Lucien speak, his tone gentle and reassuring but his words incomprehensible. Julian withdrew his hands, and Lucien stepped a little closer, leaning over Aanu. Aanu's expression changed to one of relief and understanding.

"Belial," he said, and Lucien smiled.

"Lucien," he corrected, and suddenly Julian could understand him, though the language was still the same foreign tongue. "Welcome back, brother."

"He's not ready for extensive questioning," Dr. Greene insisted for about the tenth time.

He could be right, Julian thought, but under the circumstances, it struck him as unwise to take the conservative approach. "We don't have time to wait any longer," he said. "He been conscious and alert for twenty-four hours and hasn't shown any signs of relapse. I believe he's in better health than you think."

Dr. Greene took off his glasses and wiped the lenses on his sleeve, giving him a less-than-friendly look. "I suppose you would know," he conceded. "Your contact with him has been on an entirely different and much more intimate level than mine has been."

Julian shrugged a little. "The energy-the levels seem safe to me.

I'm sure he could withstand a few questions, and he'd probably be okay out of the chamber, too."

"How does Lucien feel about it?"

"I think the question is, how does Aanu feel? I'm sure he can tell us if he's up to answering questions."

The doctor sighed and put his glasses back on. "All right. No more concentrated oxygen, no more overprotective doctor. He's breath ing, his heart's beating, his blood's moving, and he seems fairly lucid.

Give me a couple of hours to get him situated in a new room, and he's all yours."

Julian nodded decisively. "Good."

An hour later, Lucien met him at the door to Aanu's new room.

"You didn't invite me?" Lucien said, sounding a little hurt.

"Since when do you have to be invited anywhere? You generally just show up."

Lucien grinned a little. "Well, I am a vampire. An invitation would be helpful."

"No, you're not. You're a First Demon proto-vampire biological half-blood freak or something. And that having-to-be-invited thing is bullshit, anyway."

"True." Lucien glanced at the sheaf of papers Julian was carrying, papers on which were painstakingly recorded all the most perti- nent-and a few impertinent-questions Julian could think of. "Let him talk first," Lucien said. "Let him get out what he needs to get out.

He's been dead a long time."

Fighting a quick stab of irritation, Julian nodded. He realized he was being impatient. He couldn't help it. He felt naked, vulnerable, unprepared, uninformed, and many other very uncomfortable conditions.

If Ialdaboth popped in right now, he would take down the entire place.

"We have a little time," said Lucien. "Not much, but I think it'll be enough."

"Get out of my head," Julian groused, then added, "How do you know that?"

Lucien shrugged. "Like it or not, Ialdaboth is my brother. There's a connection. A small one, but still a connection. And my beating the living shit out of him in Romania strengthened the bond. He still hasn't quite recovered. I can tell."

Julian struggled to compose himself. "Okay. That helps-a little, anyway."

With an odd smile, Lucien tapped his knuckles against the door to Aanu's room.

"Enter," said Aanu.

Julian was again surprised that he understood the language. He had no idea what tongue it was, but it translated itself in his head when he heard it. There was a bit of a delay, though, as if it had to go through a relay process to hit the correct part of his brain. He'd figured out that was because he himself had never heard the language before yesterday.

All knowledge of it came from the Senior's memories.

"Are you ready?" Lucien asked.

Julian nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Lucien pushed open the door. Aanu sat in the bed, wearing clothes that had to have come from Lucien's wardrobe, given the fit. Julian knew his own or Dr. Greene's clothes would have been too narrow through the shoulders. Aanu looked up as they entered, his attention immediately focusing on Lucien, and he smiled a little.

"Belial," he said, then corrected himself. "My pardon. Lucien."

"You have caused no pain," said Lucien, tilting his head forward a little. "This is our leader, Julian."

"Not really the leader," Julian corrected, a little stunned that the words came out in the same language Lucien and Aanu had used.

Lucien turned to him with an eyebrow cocked in surprise. "I didn't know you spoke this tongue."

"I don't." Julian lapsed back into English, his concentration disrupted.

"The Senior did. It's a bit hard to dig up. I don't even know what language it is."

"It's an ancient Sumerian dialect, I think," Lucien answered, also in English. "Probably been dead for centuries."

"What do you speak of?" Aanu said.

"Nothing of great concern," Lucien assured him. "I was simply surprised at Julian's facility with our language."

"Not a great facility. His accent is hideous."

Julian laughed. "No doubt."

Lucien smiled at him and pulled a chair from a corner of the room, pushing it closer to Aanu's bed. Julian sat and arranged his pages of questions while Lucien retrieved another chair for himself.