Is there a chance it wasn't his blood?

No. I saw the abrasions.

In the image you projected to me, wrote Fang, I'm pretty sure I see them, too.

We're weird, I wrote.

Yes we are, Moon Dance. A very good kind of weird.

So what does this mean with my son?

I don't know, Moon Dance. There was another pause. And you say he's getting better in sports, too?

Much, much better.

Supernaturally better?

Last year about this time he was benched for picking his nose. Now he's the leading scorer. I wouldn't have thought anything about this, except...

Except when you combine it with the disappearing wound...

Right, I wrote. There's something weird going on with my son. Fang, could you...

I'll look into it, Moon Dance.

Thank you, Fang.

And as we were about to sign off, I caught a fleeting glimpse into Fang's mind, a thought that I was certain I wasn't supposed to see or hear. Except it wasn't so much a thought as a feeling.

Fang was hoping that if he helped me, I would help him in return. To do what, I didn't know.

But I could guess.

Chapter Fifteen.

I was in bed with Kingsley.

Not a bad place to be. Ever. It was the day after his "change" and he was feeling particularly, ah, ravenous. And not just for food. Yes, he had prepared a delicious meal for himself, and supplied me with a particularly fresh goblet of hemoglobin.

We had spent the evening in his kitchen, drinking and eating over his counter, while he looked at me with yellowish eyes that suggested that he was not only going to tear my clothing off my back, but he was going to do so in a particularly inspired way.

He didn't tear off my clothes. But they did come off quick enough, and we spent the next few hours putting our immortal bodies to good use. Very good use.

Now, we were both lying on our sides, naked and talking quietly. The lights were off but I could see every square inch of Kingsley's epic body, which I never really got used to. It was like lying next to a small land ma.s.s, a living peninsula. Hard, corrugated, with peaks and valleys and forests and plains. Epic, immovable, s.e.xy as h.e.l.l.

I knew he could see every curve of mine, too, being a fellow creature of the night. That he could see every curve of mine gave me some degree of anxiety. I might be immortal, but I was insecure as h.e.l.l about my naked body.

Kingsley, not so much. He liked to be naked. Lucky for him, I liked when he was naked, too. Presently, his s.h.a.ggy hair hung down to the bed sheet, a bed sheet that was still soaked with our sweat. His relaxed bicep still looked bigger than my waist. His chest hair was thicker than normal thanks to his beastly visitor from the night before.

Yes, the big oaf was shedding all over the place. Additionally, his eyes were glowing more yellow than normal, also a residue of his recent transformation.

"Kingsley," I said.

He was presently running a thick finger over my hip. "Yeah, babe?"

"Are there really...things living inside us?"

His finger stopped on my waist. "That's not exactly bedroom talk, Sam."

"Sorry, but it's been bugging me."

"Since you met your guardian angel?"

I nodded, which looked more like a shake since my head was propped up on my hand. The lights were out in the room, and only the silver glow from the still-mostly full moon bathed our naked bodies. "He kind of freaked me out."

"He was trying to freak you out, Sam. And he's certainly not a guardian angel. Not anymore."

"A fallen angel," I said.

"Right," said Kingsley. "Something like that."

"I spoke to whatever's in you," I said. "He said you were his vehicle to gain entrance into the mortal world again."

"So you said before. Remind me to kick his a.s.s if I ever meet him."

I tried to smile. Mostly, I was successful. I said, "Do you feel him inside you?"

"Not really, Sam. Then again, I don't necessarily feel much when I change."

"Do you feel anything?"

"I feel anger and hate and blind rage."

"But you didn't attack me in my room last year."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I knew it was you."

"But did you want to attack me?"

"A part of me did. Very badly."

"But you resisted," I said.

"With all my strength and will."

"What would have happened if you attacked me?" I asked.

"We wouldn't be here now."

"Because I would be dead."

"No...you would have survived. And I would have survived, too. Vampires are as strong or stronger than even a full-blown werewolf. I'm not sure our relationship would have survived."

I shrugged. I hadn't thought of that. I said, "So, I'm as strong as you?"

"Don't sound so pleased, but yes. Although my size factors into things, I would say you are particularly strong, even for a vampire."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know. There's something going on with you that I haven't quite put a finger on."

"Oh, you put a finger on it."

He laughed. A sharp bark that startled me. "Anyway, even your everyday vampire at full power is nearly unstoppable."

"But you stopped Dominique," I said, referring to the events of seven months ago, when my son had been dying and I had faced down a particularly old and desperate vampire.

"I said nearly," said Kingsley. "That night could have quickly gone south for me."

I patted his hearty chest. I could have been slapping a side of beef. "Then it's a good thing you're such a big boy."

"Big has its benefits."

I rolled my eyes. "Please not another p.e.n.i.s reference."

"Fine. I won't refer to my big p.e.n.i.s."

"Oh, G.o.d. Annnnyway, I still can't imagine anyone-vampires or otherwise-being able to stop you."

He chuckled lightly, then studied me for a few seconds. "Actually, you could, Sam."

I snorted. "I doubt it."

"You are stronger than you realize. In fact, rumor has it that a Mr. Captain Jack was perhaps the strongest vampire of them all. That is, until you came around."

Kingsley was referring to a missing-child case that had led me to an Indian casino in Simi Valley, where a young girl's blood was being siphoned by a particularly sick son of a b.i.t.c.h.

Kingsley went on, "From what I understand, most others in the vampire world steered clear of Captain Jack. And look what you did to him."

"I was lucky. I had help."

"But who's alive, Sam? You vanquished a powerful vampire. You are not one to mess with."

The talk was getting a little serious, especially since we were both naked in bed. I ran a finger through his tangle of chest hair. "Then what were you doing just a few moments ago?"

He reached over and pulled me close to his superheated body. "Oh, I wasn't messing with you, Sam." And now he flipped me over onto my back and climbed on top of me. "I was making love to you."

I blinked. Hard. This was news to me. "Love?"

"Oh, yeah, Sam." He lowered his face to my skin. "Love."

At least, that's what I think he said. His words might have been a little m.u.f.fled.

Chapter Sixteen.

It was early afternoon and I was at the Cal State Fullerton library.

I waved to my cute friend working behind the help desk. He smiled brightly and rose from his chair, but I breezed past, blew him a kiss, and hurried into one of the elevators going up. At the third floor, I wound my way through a maze of book aisles until I came upon the special collections room.

Cal State Fullerton had many special collections. In the science fiction wing, there was a room devoted solely to local science fiction authors. One could find original Dune ma.n.u.scripts by Frank Herbert along with his personal notes. My favorite was the Philip K. d.i.c.k room. The world at large thought the man had a screw loose, and maybe he did. But I happened to think he was onto something. Or something was onto him.

Anyway, this was the Occult Reading Room, which consisted of extremely rare ma.n.u.scripts. Like with the science fiction room, these books couldn't be checked out. Only admired. Or feared. And, yes, there were one or two books in here that definitely aroused some fear. Okay, a lot of fear.

Except today I wasn't here to read books, or even to peruse the shelves. I was here to meet a young man. A young man who, I suspected, wasn't so young.

I hung a right into the Occult Reading Room and wasn't too surprised to see that it was empty. Well, empty of anything living, that is. A very old man in spirit form sat in one of the chairs and appeared to be deep in thought. Then again, most ghosts appeared to be in deep thought. As I came in, he looked up at me, startled, frowned grumpily, and promptly disappeared into the nether-sphere.

Well, excuse me.

The reading room was really a library unto itself. It had its own shelves, its own filing system, its own desks and reading chairs. Even its own help desk, where I rang the little bell.

As I waited, I could hear something scratching from deeper within the reading room, followed by some whispering and even the occasional moan. I shivered. Creepy as h.e.l.l.

A young man soon appeared from the back offices. What he did back there, I didn't know. Who he was, exactly, I didn't know that either. For all the world, he appeared as just another handsome college student with a bright smile.

His name was Archibald Maximus, and I suspected that Cal State Fullerton, unbeknownst to the students and faculty, housed perhaps one of the world's most dangerous collections of arcane and rare books, books full of dark power. Books that could do great harm in the hands of the wrong person.

I suspected young Archibald Maximus, or Max, was a gatekeeper of sorts. A watcher. A protector.

His particularly bright aura suggested I might be onto something. Although not as bright as the angel I'd met last month, Max's aura was d.a.m.n bright. So much so, that it suggested he wasn't entirely of this world.

Or I could be as crazy as a loon.