He turned into the walkway behind the pub. Caution was not a natural habit, but as he entered the tree-lined path, he wondered whether it was time he began to realize that most of his speed and strength had gone now. If one of those fool kids got the idea that he carried the money with him, they might follow him down the path-he put his hand in his pocket where the amethystine dagger sat cool and sullen. Its very touch was deadly to a vampire, but to a gang of human youths, it would be no more effective than any other knife. Of course, his master might send vampires against him one of these days; that was why he carried the blade. Old Gruner, who collected fishermen and delusions of grandeur. There was a limit to how long Perry could keep on being 'the one who got away.'

He skirted the park and walked swiftly through the quiet suburbs, and finally crossed the trivet. The water used to make him uneasy, but he was discovering a love of it now that the blood ran quieter in him. He looked over the bridge as the smooth, black water slid noiselessly past. It almost seemed to beckon him.

Just off the other side was the cul-de-sac with his small house at the end. It was a white, one bedroom cottage with a rusted iron roof that badly needed repair. At the door, he paused. Again his behavior was slipping out of its routine. He had ignored Leon when he first saw him and now couldn't get his mind off the boy; he had left the club early and walked home. His very thoughts did not seem entirely his own. Something was a little wrong with everything.

He stood with his hand on the door handle and the long iron key turned soundlessly in the well-oiled old lock. What could be wrong? And regardless, what could he do about it? Perry knew that he was alone, and in the end had only himself to call upon. He did not discount his instinct of peril, but nor could he let it paralyze him.

At a gentle push, the door swung open silently. Everything was still, with nothing amiss but a slight smell of jasmine. Not real jasmine, which did grow in the gardens hereabouts, but the kind of powdery, soapy jasmine scent that was in some perfumes.

"Leon," he said in calm, chiding voice.

Perry heard the faint sound of a body shifting on fabric. It came from the bedroom. He shut the front door behind him and slipped the dagger into his left palm. He walked with deliberate slowness, feeling his heart beating double-time while his mind struggled to determine what emotion he was feeling.

Even night-adjusted, his eyes could pick up no more than the faint outline of walls and windows. His own bedroom, a converted, windowless box room, normally provided little to delight the eye. His hands found the light switch. The bulb emitted the same dim blue light he used at the club. It was more than enough to illuminate the scene to full effect.

The crisp white sheets were crumpled into precise folds around Leon's smooth white torso. He lay back upon the plump, feather-filled pillows. His expression was peculiar, suggesting both disdain and amus.e.m.e.nt. Somehow on the young man's attractive form the juxtaposition became intriguing. The sheets covered Leon's groin and legs with incongruous modesty, obviously contrived to show the rest of himself to best advantage.

Perry felt immediate rekindling of his initial attraction and just as immediate, fear and concern. There was no real possibility that pretty Leon was here for a fading lump of a vamp like him. Even if he was there were the myriad complications that Leon might be a vampire...or something else.

Leon smiled. "You do underestimate yourself," he said. "Your feelings now are why you attract me like the moth to the proverbial flame."

Perry stayed by the door. "My feelings?" he said coolly.

"Your emotions, for they are what I can feel. That is what I feed upon. You may seem stoical, but I can feel what is behind that front. You are a man of many and subtle emotions. I have, as you say, a discerning palate." Leon leaned forward. "I know that you want me too; why resist it?"

Perry wavered. "I have a suspicious mind."

"You have a wonderful mind, and the rest of you is rather more attractive than you seem to appreciate..."

Now he knew what he was dealing with. The boy didn't just want blood. He was that rarest of things, a psy-vamp. Sanguinaries like Perry were the body and strength of the vampire community. At the margins slipped the rarer creatures: psy's, courtiers and messengers. Almost indistinguishable from humans, the psy's blended with the donors and the thralls.

"Why don't you tell me who sent you?" Perry stalled.

"Why don't you come up here, Peregrine, and I'll whisper it in your ear."

Peregrine, the name he had borne during his time in Wellington as House Enforcer for Lord Gruner. Gruner's was the biggest rookery of vampires anywhere in the country and it had taken a firm hand to keep order.

Now the question was, who sent Leon after him and why?

Perry let his old wool overcoat drop to the ground and went to sit on his bed with his back to the dark Adonis currently occupying it. He took off first one shoe then the other and sighed as his hard-worn feet relaxed, wriggling his toes.

Leon scooted over to drape against his back, leaning his jaw over Perry's shoulder. "Why not leave the questions for a while, and take advantage of the fringe benefits of your situation."

His slender arms reached around and Leon started to unb.u.t.ton Perry's shirt. Perry knew he should stop this right here but Leon's peculiar scent distracted him and then the sensation of a warm body against his... Perry shook his head.

"Has Gruner's petty court become so dull that you have been driven to seek me out for entertainment? I imagine I must be something of a disappointment to you."

Leon drew back his shirt, redolent as it was with the rather less appealing scents of sweat and the club's smoke machine. Bare skin against bare skin, Perry's last shred of will power, and good sense, evaporated.

Slender hands drew him to lie back upon the bed. "Come join me, Peregrine."

"Don't call me that," Perry sighed.

Leon's lean frame moved almost like a cat's as he came to straddle Perry. "Peregrine the Red," he said. "Peregrine the Enforcer. Why did you leave that all behind? You were respected."

He asked almost as if making small talk, as he undid the b.u.t.ton of Perry's trousers. There was a distinctly surreal feeling to the scene as Perry lay with his feet dangling off the bed and a gorgeous youth sat over his thighs, feeling his c.o.c.k. His c.o.c.k wasn't distracted by such musings; it had played the old recluse rather too long for his body's contentment. He felt himself growing hard.

Perry propped his elbows under him and looked across at the psy. Like sanguinary vampires they could live a good long while but something told him Leon was almost as young as he looked.

"I left that all behind because Gruner is a crazy f.u.c.k," he said with deliberate crudity, looking for a reaction. There was a reflective furtiveness in Leon's eyes. Leon is Gruner's.

Leon slithered back on the bed to pull Perry's trousers and underwear off, dogmatic in his goals. Perry thought of the blade in his jacket pocket lying on the floor a few feet away, wondering if it would work on a psy, if he had cause to find out.

Perry did in fact feel a strand of his old nature moving below the surface, the forceful, focused mind that used to ride within his steely immortal body when his hair was gold rather than white. He reared up and reached out, grasping Leon by his upper arm. Perry felt his long, gaunt finger reach almost fully around but there was subtle strength within Leon's thin form that his own much reduced but larger frame could not hope to match.

"I don't care for Gruner's games," Perry snapped. Rapid calculations flickered in Leon's eyes. He stepped in close to Perry so that he could feel warm skin against his again after so long. A tangled skein of desires welled up, hard c.o.c.k trapped against Leon's stomach, teeth aching and sliding in their constricted gums.

"What about me, enforcer? Do you care for me?"

The way he said it obviously meant care for as in want. The answer was clear. With a wordless sound, Perry pushed Leon back down on the bed and kissed him. It was no tender gesture. There was blood in his mouth where his vampiric teeth broke free from gums that had grown over them. Leon responded eagerly, pressing up against him, winding his hands in Perry's hair and pulling down his head.

Perry pinned Leon down and felt his reservation float loose. He pushed against Leon, c.o.c.k hard, sliding between them. Leon's slender, proportionate body surrendered beneath Perry. He gritted his teeth, he would not take blood-he had fought too hard for his humanity to lose it now.

Leon eased back, raising his thighs to clasp Perry's body.

"So what are you, Leon? A messenger, a threat-a bribe?"

"Do you care?"

Perry felt a dry laugh rustle within him. Leon pressed up against him, drawing him up fully onto the bed. His movements were slow, gentle. Leon seemed rather practiced at putting a man at his ease and into the mood. He reached down, sliding his hand down Perry's side and down the crease between torso and leg. Perry tensed as Leon took his c.o.c.k in a spit-dampened hand, stroking it softly.

Perry's body moved to nothing more than instincts pushing forward, sliding as Leon held him tighter. Their lips met again, softer this time. Perry didn't trust this pleasure-beauty couldn't be trusted and overtures of friendship in a vampire were almost always false-but the touch, the touch was so sweet.

Leon curled his back, drawing Perry down. Haste was not Perry's usual way but something in him wanted to take, to claim Leon. He wanted to be in him.

Leon was so tight, but seemed as eager in return. With his own hand, he positioned Perry's c.o.c.k, actually pressing the head against his body. Perry leaned down upon his elbows, pressing their bodies together. He entered Leon's body very slowly, holding his breath. He looked down at Leon's flushed face, his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted.

They pressed together. Leon's hands hovered lightly over Perry's shoulders, touching his skin only in slight glances. Perry slid in and out of his body in short, hard thrusts. His breath rasped audibly in his throat. The taught rings of flesh rolled over his c.o.c.k, tight and warm. Sensation spiraled out into his body.

But a part of his mind stayed aloof looking down into Leon's opaque, angelic face. This young man might do-be-anything to him. He was still a glyph, a body and a few words that might or might not be sincere. It scared Perry to know how much he wanted it to be more and standing on the brink the connection between them was still just, physical, intoxicating-inadequate. Leon reached out to him against urging him on in a simple, harsh rhythm. Sweat slicked their bodies as they crashed together seeking, both of them it seemed, something in a harsh collision of flesh.

Leon called out once, harshly like a crow. His whole form seemed to wilt after his climax, growing soft. Perry experienced a most peculiar sensation. Without coming his own erection simply faded away, leaving them joined together, soft, sweat cooling, wondering just what the h.e.l.l he had done.

Perry closed the door to his cramped bedroom and pulled the covers wordlessly over them both. Leon spooned against his body tightly. More than their hurried coupling, this seemed to be what his body wanted. Perry was so tired of being alone, and just so tired. Leon fitted snugly into his embrace. The psy's body seemed entirely relaxed, but Perry's own mind whirred. Beautiful strangers in one's bed were simply not to be trusted.

Somewhere beyond the walls he could feel the sun rise languidly into the sky making the whole world hostile to them both-all the sons of Cain could not abide it long. Other than being tangled in Gruner's web, it might be the only thing the two of them had in common.

"So why?" Perry murmured. "What do you want with me?"

Leon stirred, discontented, but finally he answered. "Kensey will challenge Gruner soon. Gruner killed his lover in a final effort to beat back his rival before the big vote."

Perry dimly remembered Kensey, a tough, dark-eyed idealist who challenged Gruner even when he was just a new-made vampire and Gruner already an established Master. That was before Perry left and Gruner went on to the worst of his excesses. He had heard tales after he left. Executions moved from being a last resort necessity for a culture both beneath and above the law to a tool of convenience to rule by fear when all other avenues began to close. Vampires were hard to rule, and could make very harsh rulers.

Deep in his heart, Perry knew that Gruner was never somebody he could just walk away from.

"And it is counsel tomorrow night."

"Annual Counsel," Leon confirmed. "The one time Gruner's leadership may be called to a vote. Even Gruner doesn't dare, as yet, to evade the vote."

Perry lay still between the soft, burred sheets. All the vampires of Wellington in one hall. That would have been about a hundred when he left a dozen or so years a go, it might be a few more now. Some of Gruner's rivals had been expanding their houses as quickly as they dared. There were rumors of an unofficial open season on fledglings amongst Gruner's cronies.

But after centuries under one man's rule, a change could mean chaos-vampires breaking free from the old man's archaic rules and colliding with all the opportunities the modern world offered. It could even lead to discovery, the ultimate fear of all the elders.

And there it was, fear. Even in his own heart, it was fear that allowed Gruner's tyranny to carry on.

"You've decided what to do," Leon said in the darkness.

"Is that the point of this?" Perry asked. "You here in the bed to find out for Gruner just what I will do?"

Leon sighed. A resigned, sad sound. "I'm empathic not telepathic. One is a way to live and feed, the other is science fiction, for G.o.d's sake. I could just feel that you were troubled and that you reached a resolution of some sort."

Now here was an interesting thing. Leon said G.o.d with a subtle hint of capital 'G'. That was a rare thing in a vampire. Perry had to admit he didn't know much about psy's-what they sense, how they feed, what they did to those they were with. He didn't feel much concern though. He settled back on the mettle that had made him a great enforcer for so many decades. Once Perry decided what to do, he simply did it.

Shortly before dusk, Perry felt the strength to rise. He got out of bed as early as he could, not well rested but troubled with thoughts about Leon knowing where he lived and loyal throngs of Gruner's human thralls busy in the daylight. He looked down at Leon, lying loose-limbed and oblivious like a child. Asleep he didn't exude quite the same magnetic presence but his vulnerability added just another facet to his appeal. Whether it was tonight or some future night, this psy was going to send him to his eternal rest. Perry knew this with a sourceless and absolute certainty. Strangely, it didn't bother him all that much.

He smiled. There were worse ways to go.

To the side of the bed there was a large trunk. He had to pull it out from the wall to have room to swing the hinged lid upwards. This faint sound was enough to wake Leon, who raised his tousled head and regarded him with bleary eyes.

"You're going to help Gruner deal with Kensey, aren't you? In return for being left alone."

He may not be a telepath but Perry was pretty sure the psy could use his talents like a lie detector, so he tried not to make any response, inside or out.

"I don't know what Gruner thinks one vamp can do, but you'll need your strength-and my blood. You can, you know. Psy's can be donors."

Perry made sure his reaction to that was clear. No. He would stick to his regime of near-starvation. It was the rush of the blood in great amounts that made a vampire strong, fast, and arrogant. The more powerful drank deep and drowned their consciences on the way. Perry had been there. He blinked the memories away. Not even for Gruner would he return.

"I was never so strong, and in a room full of dozens of vamps it will hardly matter what one man can do. No..." Perry opened the lid and looked down at the oiled and ranked contents. "My equipment was my advantage. Generations of my family developed these. Witches, alchemists, scientists..."

Leon peered over.

Perry ran his hands over the bolts and rounds in their protective boxes, types designed to destroy every kind of creature known to exist. Weapons to fire them. The potions and tinctures were divided between the trunk and the refrigerator.

Amulets, hypodermics, powders. Perry never parted with the knowledge of how to make these things. He did, however, burn the books his father left him once he was sure he knew all that was within.

Perry was Gruner's wild card; he must be desperate to play it now. The question really was how was he being played and did he want to go along with it?.

"That's not why he called you," Leon said.

"No?" Perry lifted an eyebrow.

"The vamps still speak of you. The sanguinaries tell stories of what you did, how you were. Obedient but never bloodthirsty. Loyal but never blindly so. When you left, it shook Gruner's power-base and things have never been entirely the same since. He still has his soldiers, lined up like attack dogs to do whatever he commands, but he doesn't have Peregrine the Just by his side. He needs the fact that your support will sway the vote. You always had the words that needed to be said. You were always worth listening to on the rare occasions when you spoke. All the elders say so and the youngers believe it."

Perry surveyed Leon coolly, wondering if this was at least part of the truth.

There was barely enough time to get to the Great Hall in time. He started to check the best and most lethal of his equipment. His old pistol with its chamber modified for soft rounds of mahogany and inherited silver. One advantage of his family background was relatives who made sure to leave him a lot of silver. A spring-loaded syringe with a fatally excessive charge of bloodbane. A few other surprises and of course, the knife.

Amethystine, carefully sheathed.

He looked up into Leon's wide, attentive eyes and was surprised at his next thought. Perhaps some risks are worth the prize.

The highway glided by in a smooth flickering blur, broken only by the syncopated swatting of the windscreen wipers. Flurries of snow drifted down. Perry leaned back in the front pa.s.senger seat, letting Leon take the wheel for the last few miles into Wellington. It was a few minutes from midnight, the counsel would be already coming to order in the hall.

"You're really going to back Gruner up with nothing but a hogleg?"

"Who's been reading too many westerns," Perry replied sardonically. He resisted the urge to tell the boy that only colts go by that name.

Leon pulled into the car parking level with a.s.surance, definitely the confidence of a native. The attendant peered into the car but then let him in without so much as a word of challenge. Perry let the psy take the lead. It had been over a decade since Perry could treat the Rookery like his home, and he looked rather different then anyway.

Perry knew he had sinned in most ways that were possible but in his current form, vanity at least was also out of reach. Maybe Leon was for real, maybe a guy that stunning didn't need looks in his mate. Perry shook his head. There was plenty he needed to know about that boy. Currently, all he could tell was Leon was a psy and didn't know all that much about guns. That wasn't such a bad thing. His blackhawk flat top was the most reliable companion he'd ever had, and likely to keep that t.i.tle-but he didn't make the mistake of thinking that reflected well on him.

Leon led the way to the lifts. Perry was pleased to see the decor inside was the same right down to the row of three keyholes. He took out the small bra.s.s key that hung beside the others on his key ring. His Rookery instincts cut in as Perry handed Leon his pistol. The young psy baulked but took it, the heavy pistol looking large and ungainly in his slender hand.

"Keep a hold of that until I ask for it," he said. His old key still fit the center slot and the car lurch as it slid to a stop at Gruner's private level in the second bas.e.m.e.nt just above the hall.

The doors slid open with a creak. The antechamber had been redesigned with a tall backlit aquarium teeming with corals and sea anemones. Through the distortion of the bubbling water, he could see the dark apartment. So the b.a.s.t.a.r.d went ahead and had the d.a.m.n thing put in.

Leon hung back in the lift. Perry left the choice to him, walking down the shallow stairs and around into the living room.

Gruner lay back, lounging on a wide, white leather corner unit watching a flickering television with the sounded muted. He looked the same, of course. Gruner was like the archetype upon which all other vampires were based; a high-boned Slavic face with square temples and long, glossy black hair. He was wearing a black suit tailored in an impeccably modern fashion with narrow lapels and a single b.u.t.ton over a collarless shirt. Long, fitted trousers accentuated his lanky frame.

Gruner looked up with a bland expression. "You brought La.s.sie back with you," he said dryly. Gruner's gaze went over Perry's shoulder presuming that Leon was there.

"So what was it, Gruner? You b.u.mped off Kensey's boo, and thought he might do me in before you got a chance too?"

Gruner liked very few people and f.u.c.ked many, but as far as Perry knew, he was the only one who fit in both groups. So in Gruner's paranoid little world that meant Kensey might pick him out for a revenge hit.

Gruner laughed sharply. "Kensey's boo, that's precious." He stood and came to stand altogether close to Perry and placed his hand flat on the collar of Perry's old wool coat. Back when it was both presentable and fashionable, Gruner had given him this very coat. No doubt he remembered that.

"This is a new look for you," Gruner said, meaning the aged body beneath, no doubt. "Distinguished." He tilted his head. "We are keeping our kin waiting."