Jarod knelt next to the guard's prone body. "He's alive."

"Of course he is." Sasha seemed offended. "I had no intention of killing him. Look how pretty he is."

"He's a bad guy," Lucien said. "We don't care if he's pretty."

"I do. Can we take him home?"

"I'll think about it. C'mon, Dr. Greene." Lucien headed into the mountain. Jarod flipped on his flashlight and followed. He barely kept pace as Lucien picked up speed through the main corridor. Obviously Lucien had picked up a scent or, maybe, tapped into one of his elusive memories. They followed the corridor down twists and turns and a series of switchbacks, until it hit a dead end.

Lucien put his hands against the rock wall and closed his eyes.

"This is it."

"Then let's get it over with and get the hell out of here." Jarod felt cold but not on his skin. He was used to the presence and smell of vampires, but this was different. The age of the place seemed to press down on him, and he suddenly wondered how long people had been using these caves. Since well before Lucien's birth, he imagined, and that had been twelve thousand years ago. It wasn't the millennia of occupation he was feeling, though. Blackness lurked around the edges of the place, like shadows left by evil.

"Are you ready?" Lucien said.

"I guess."

"Then let's go."

He felt Lucien's hand on his elbow again, and in the next instant, they'd blinked to the other side of the wall. He had less than a second to register details hit by the beam of his flashlight-a small cave, bright paintings on the walls, a stone table lurking altar-like in the middle of the room . . . a pile of bones lying on it.

And that was as far as he got before he went to his knees, gasping with the realization that there was no air whatsoever in the room.

He groped toward Lucien, managing to grab his sleeve as he went down.

"Shit," said Lucien, somehow, and they blipped out.

Back in the corridor, Jarod put his face in his hands and breathed.

"What the hell-"

"That was Aanu." Lucien's voice was thin.

Jarod sat up, his breathing still labored. "The bones? Then we're too late."

"No. We have to get him out."

"Lucien, he's a pile of bones."

"Doesn't matter."

Apparently the lack of air had gone to Lucien's head. Jarod fought for patience. "He's dead, Lucien. We're too late." He pushed himself to his feet. "We should go before we get caught."

Lucien was looking at the wall. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

"Lucien, no-"

The Demon cut him off with a glare from cool, ancient blue eyes.

His patience rapidly evaporating, Jarod repeated firmly, "He's dead."

"Remind me to tell you sometime about the Great Flood. Or the volcano," Lucien said. "I've been dead, too. Couple of times." He touched the wall and disappeared.

Jarod sagged against the wall and rubbed his forehead. The few seconds of oxygen deprivation had given him a headache. Or maybe listening to Lucien had done it. Whatever the case, he'd reached his limit. He needed a break.

Lucien reappeared, carrying the blankets, folded and bunched into a makeshift bag. Judging by the bulges, Jarod assumed the bones were inside.

"Let's go," Lucien said.

Outside the cave, Sasha had trussed up the guard with ropes from her backpack and was kneeling next to him, her fingers on his forehead.

"We're going," Lucien told her.

"We're bringing him," Sasha said. "Don't give me any shit, girl. I said we're going."

Jarod had never seen Lucien so agitated.

Sasha just glared back at him. "They'll kill him if we leave him here."

"Why should I care about that? He's one of them."

"So was Lilith," Jarod put in gently. "I know it's bad timing, but if there's a chance to save any of them "

Lucien rolled his eyes. "Pansy-assed idiots, both of you." He waved them toward him.

Sasha pulled the guard half into her lap, then reached to take the hand Jarod offered her. He felt Lucien's hand on his shoulder, and they blinked up the mountain, back to the helicopter.

Lilith, like William, lacked the ability to teleport, but they still made good time. Even so, she had barely crawled back into the helicopter, her head pounding so badly she could hardly see, when Lucien and the others appeared only yards away. They half-ran to the helicopter and climbed in awkwardly, carrying a large bag and an unconscious vampire Lilith was pretty sure she recognized.

"Oh, joy," William muttered. "They brought company."

"Rafael," Lilith said.

Lucien looked at her. "You know him?"

"He's Brigitte's. I'd forgotten she likes to keep him here, out of trouble."

"Do we take him?"

Sasha started to protest, but Lucien silenced her with a gesture.

Lilith considered, studying Rafael's quiet face. "Yes. He was Brigitte's- he'll know things."

Lucien nodded decisively. "Then let's go." He tapped the pilot on the shoulder, and they rose into the air, heading toward Bucharest.

They had just touched down when a spear of pain stabbed through Lilith's head. "He's here," she managed, as flashes of red and black filled her vision. "He's waiting for us."

Lucien stiffened, his head lifting, hands clenching on the bag of Aanu's bones. She was almost certain he sniffed the air and crinkled his nose at whatever he smelled.

"Shit," said William.

Lilith glanced at the accountant and saw raw fear in his eyes.

"All of you, stay in the chopper," said Lucien, shoving the bag toward Jarod. "Be ready to run for the plane." He turned to the pilot.

"Can you fly that plane?"

The pilot nodded. "Sure."

"Then you be ready, too." He climbed out of the helicopter, leaving the rest of them to plaster themselves against the windows.

Lilith tried to, but her legs faltered under her. Jarod caught her before she hit the floor and helped her to the window. She looked out and trembled as he held her. "My God, no," she whispered. "Don't do it, Lucien."

Jarod heard Lilith's warning, but he doubted anyone else had. In any case, Lucien seemed to have made up his mind already. He was striding purposefully across the field toward the plane, which stood only a handful of yards away. Between him and the plane stood a lone figure. A man.

Not a man, Jarod realized. Not a vampire, either. One of Lucien's kind. A First Demon.

"Ialdaboth?" he asked, and Lilith nodded.

Jarod had heard, second- and third-hand, about the confrontation between Lucien and Ialdaboth that had led to Lilith's arrival in the New York Underground. It had sounded decidedly unpleasant. Lucien had emerged victorious, but barely. If Lucien couldn't pull it off again, they were all dead.

Ialdaboth straightened, squaring his shoulders, as Lucien approached.

He seemed ready to talk, perhaps to launch into some preliminary ritual, but Lucien gave him no chance. He lifted his hands and Ialdaboth flew backwards, nearly slamming into the plane.

"What was that?" Jarod said. He'd seen nothing pass between the two men, and they certainly hadn't made physical contact. But Lilith, still shaking in his arms, didn't answer.

He looked at her. She was staring out the window, pupils dilated, her breathing fast and ragged. Outside, Lucien advanced on Ialdaboth, fists raised in front of him. Jarod knew he could do nothing to help Lucien, so he focused instead on Lilith.

Carefully, he shook her, but she continued to stare out the window as if ensorcelled. "Lilith?" No response. He pushed at her shoulders, trying to turn her away from the window.

"He's got her," William said. "There's no way she'll ever be able to break free. You should let her go. Or better yet, kill her. She's too much of a danger."

"Shut up, William," Jarod snapped. "Why the hell are you here, anyway?"

The accountant shrugged. "I really have no idea." He returned his attention to the preternatural wrestling match on the landing field.

Gently, Jarod ran his hand over Lilith's hair. "Lilith." Nothing. He pressed his lips against her throat. "Lilith."

Her lips strained for words, finally produced a raspy sound. He lowered his ear to her mouth.

"William's right," she breathed. "Kill me. He'll have you all, through me."

"No. This connection you have could be important. We just have to figure out how to use it to our advantage." His reassurance was more than unbridled optimism, more than whispered hope born of his affection for her. It was, he was almost completely certain, based on scientific fact.

At least he hoped it was.

"There's a way to save you," he said, "and we both know what that is."

"If I take you now, I'll kill you."

"No, you won't."

Her eyes had widened, desperate and wild, like a trapped animal.

"I will. I need it so much "

"Then take it."

Vaguely, he realized both Sasha and William were looking at him now, instead of out the window at Lucien. The pilot, too, had taken an inordinate interest in what should have been a private conversation.

There was no help for it. Voyeuristic onlookers or not, he wasn't going to let Lilith fall to her fate. Clenching his teeth, he broke the scabs on his wrist and held the wound to her lips. The blood reddened her mouth and her pupils contracted, just a little She turned away from the window, grabbed him, and sank her teeth into his throat.

Her fangs stung sinking in, tiny scalpels puncturing skin and vein.

His hands went up involuntarily, but when he grasped her arms, he could neither push her away nor pull her closer. She was immovable.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

Vaguely, he heard Sasha say, "What should we do?"

William answered, "Nothing, yet. He's the doctor-I assume he knows what he's doing."

Well, partially right. He thought he knew what he was doing, but with vampires you could never be a hundred percent sure.

Then William said, "Holy shit, Lucien's knocking the living hell out of this guy," and Jarod felt all eyes turn back toward the landing field.

Lilith's mouth pulled at his throat, drawing mouthful after mouthful of blood. The pain, though, had stopped, leaving behind only the rhythm. It matched his heartbeat. She shifted, and he felt her body against his, her breasts pressing softly against his chest, her hands spread on his back.

Let go, he thought. That's enough. I can't take anymore.

I can't, her answer came. I can't stop.

He would have called for help if he could, but his voice stopped in his throat behind her penetrating teeth. His heartbeat filled his head, pounding, pounding . . . how long until it stopped?

Then, abruptly, Lucien's voice broke through his trance. "Grab the bones, Doc . . . shit . . . Lilith, let him go!"

She responded not at all. Jarod pushed weakly with his hands on her arms, but to no effect.

Then, suddenly, she was off him, sprawling on the floor of the helicopter, blood dripping from her mouth. Jarod went to his knees, gasping, pressing his hand against the wound at his throat. Blood seeped between his fingers. Lucien's hand tore his away, then pressed against the wound. Heat filled Jarod's veins, and the pain faded.

He looked up at Lucien and flinched. One side of the proto- vampire's face was sheeted in blood. White bone showed through a wide gash across his forehead. His clothing was ripped and blood- drenched.

"You'll be okay," said Lucien. "I hope."

And you? Jarod thought. Though Lucien was on his feet, he looked as if he'd been thrashed within an inch of his life.