of her as a vampire?”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“He wants to know if you think she can be trusted,” Lucien put in.
“Look, guys. I’m a doctor. I’m not a psychiatrist or a counselor or
even a very good judge of character. I look at blood cells all day.”
“You’ve spent more time with her than any of the rest of us,”
Julian countered.
Jarod lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “She’s . . .
confused. I think she’s afraid you might kill her.”
“Do you think she would go back to Ialdaboth?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would
forgive and forget, based on what you’ve told me.”
“But she hasn’t said anything to you about him?”
“We don’t really chat.”
Silence fell. Julian and Lucien regarded each other, seeming to
pass messages through their eyes.
“I think we can trust her,” Lucien finally said.
Julian didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “We may have to.” He
slid off the desk and headed for the door.
“Trust her with what?” Jarod asked.
Julian looked at him, and Jarod saw the age in his eyes, age tempered
with long-standing pain. “With the future,” he said. “With everything.”
With nothing remaining to be said, he and Lucien left.
Jarod tried to settle down to some serious work. He’d been toiling
on a project for Julian for the past week, and some aspects of his
experimentation were finally coming together.
He’d lived in the vampire Underground for nearly ten years, and
he had to admit, he’d never seen the kind of weirdness he’d seen since
last Halloween. Julian’s blood cells coming back to life, Nicholas’s convoluted
cancer cure, Lorelei’s unprecedented pregnancy, Julian’s latest
project to save the Children, and now Lilith. Oh, and Lucien, but
everything about that guy was weird. Jarod longed for the good old
days, when he just sat in his lab inventing blood replacements, like
Vivian’s plasma drinks.
Which reminded him—he hadn’t picked up her empties yet this
week.
Looking again at the cultures from the two Children he was working
with, he made a few notes, then put his notebooks away. The walk to
Vivian’s would do him good.
It was a long walk, and a weird one for those not used to it.
Vivian’s house was technically above ground, but it somehow adjoined
the Underground. He was the only mortal he knew of who could make
the trip unaccompanied. It had taken him five years to acquire the skill,
and he still didn’t understand how it worked. The doors and corridors
and hallways changed every time, but he somehow always knew the
way.
Ten years among vampires could change a man.
He picked up the collection of empty bottles next to Vivian’s refrigerator
and settled them into the canvas bag he’d crafted for the
purpose. The house was quiet with approaching daylight. Time was
when he could spend a few hours by himself during the day, before
grabbing some sleep. These days Julian and Lucien popped in at any
hour of the day or night. Maybe they didn’t need sleep, but he did.
Luckily, they generally honored the “Do Not Disturb” sign he’d made
for his bedroom door.
As he returned to the hospital wing, he thought about Lilith. He
wondered exactly what Julian had in mind for her, though he suspected.
With her knowledge of the enemy—the Dark Children, Lucien called
them—she could be an invaluable asset.
In the lab, he set the bottles in the sanitizer, then went again to
Lilith’s room. She lay still as a corpse in the daylight Sleep, her straight,
white hair spread against the pink pillowcase. Vampires didn’t breathe
in the Sleep, and she looked eerily dead.
Though he hadn’t talked with her a great deal, he’d gotten the
impression she was deeply conflicted. As if she couldn’t decide which
side she should be on and wasn’t prepared to make the choice. But she
was afraid, as well, and seemed less afraid when he was with her.
He would have to come back an hour or two before sunset to
hook up her IV blood drip. No point in letting her wake up hungry. But
he didn’t have to worry about her until nightfall. In the meantime, he
could head off to bed.
Still, he stood, looking at her, at her silent face, like marble statuary.
Her features were gracefully put together, the clean lines striking
in their frame of platinum hair.
He was, he decided, fairly sure he could trust her.
Leaving her to her recuperative quasi-coma, he turned off the
light and headed for his room.
Two
Lilith hadn’t believed it possible, but the pain was gone in the
morning. Disconcerted, she blinked at the ceiling. For the past three
days she’d drifted out of the Sleep on a tide of aching agony—now she
was just drifting. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation, smiling.
When her breakfast began to flow into her veins from the IV drip,
she wriggled and purred like a cat. At the moment, this was a good
place to be.
Uneasiness returned, though, when Dr. Greene made his usual
stop. Not so much because his presence disturbed her, but because he
himself seemed ill at ease.
“Good morning,” he said, picking up her chart.
“What’s wrong?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Nothing. Why?”
“Something’s up.”
He flipped a page on the chart, then dropped it back on the cabinet.
“I told Julian and Lucien they could talk to you today.”
Lilith knew he meant more than just a casual chat or the weird,
one-sided sessions she’d already had with them. Cautiously, she sat up,
mindful of the needle in her arm. “What do you think they want?” She
couldn’t help the fear. She’d spent too long in Ialdaboth’s enclave,
where interrogation meant torture and any questioning of the hierarchy
led to dismemberment or death.
“What do you think they want?”
Of course she knew. “I’m not sure what to tell them.”
He met her gaze directly, his green eyes kind behind round wire-
rims. “They’re good people.” He grinned. “To the extent that they’re
people at all.”
She nodded soberly. “I think you’re right.”
A few hours later, she sat in Dr. Greene’s office, rubbing her arm
where the IV needle had been. It itched, the punctured skin and the
vein beneath healing rapidly. The doctor had given her a plasma drink,
as well. It had tasted strange but had settled her hunger nearly as well
as the IV. And there was something satisfying about the feel of warm
liquid moving down her throat, even if it wasn’t red.
Dr. Greene sat behind his desk, watching her as she sank into the
big couch.
“I’ll stay if you want me to,” he said.
“Yes.” The thought relieved her more than it should have. “Yes,
please.”
He nodded. In his silence, which had an awkward feel to it, she
looke
d around the room. There were several arrangements of blood in
test tubes, Petri dishes, measuring devices she didn’t recognize.
“What is all this?”
“Various projects having to do with the changes in Julian’s blood
and what happens when his blood combines with other blood. Like
when we healed Dina.”
She wasn’t sure what he was talking about beyond understanding
that there was something strange about Julian.
“My main project right now has to do with the Children,” he went on.
“The Children?”
“There are several here. They were treated fairly well under the
previous Senior, and Julian has improved things even more. But he
wants to find out if we can make them mortal again.”
“Really?” Such a thing would never have occurred to her.
“Yes. What was done to them was—and is—wrong, and he wants
to try to fix it.” The doctor shook his head. “There’s a boy here who’s
been ten for five hundred years. It’s just not right.”
She’d never thought of it that way before. There were pre-pu-
bescent vampires among Ialdaboth’s followers, but not many. Few made
it through the rigorous probation and training period he enforced for all
his followers. Those who did make it were often slaughtered by adult
vampires as soon as they became autonomous hunters. The Children
were smaller, weaker, vulnerable.
The door opened and Julian came in, with Lucien behind him. The
arrangement puzzled Lilith, as well. Julian was clearly the Senior, but
she could tell by looking at him that he was younger than Lucien, less
powerful. Lucien, on the other hand, possessed the same aura of power
Ialdaboth had. He wielded it differently, though, seemed more comfortable
with it. Yet he deferred to Julian.
In her world, the world of the Dark Children, such a situation
would not have been possible. Ialdaboth would have slaughtered Julian
at the first sign of abnormal power. That Lucien had not done so would
seem, according to Ialdaboth’s rules, to be a sign of weakness. Lilith
wasn’t so sure.
They sat in the big chairs that occupied the doctor’s office, making
themselves comfortable.
“How are you feeling today?” Julian asked.
“Much better, thank you.”
“Dr. Greene said he thought you might be up to answering some
questions. Are you?”
“I believe so.”
“Is there a reason the doctor’s still here?” Lucien put in.
“I’m staying,” said Dr. Greene. “I’m her doctor, and I need to be on
hand in case any kind of situation develops during your interrogation.”
Julian laughed. “It’s not going to be an interrogation. I left my
thumb screws in my other pants.”
Lucien went directly to the point. “Lilith, do you want him to stay?”
“Yes.” She was prepared to argue if she had to.
“Fine. Then let’s get on with it. We need your help.”
Lilith nodded. “Go on.”
Julian took over. “Before your arrival, we put plans in motion to
send a spy into Ialdaboth’s territory.”
“Bad idea,” said Lilith.
“Possibly. But it needed to be done. With you here, we now have
another option. If you’re willing to tell us everything you can about our
enemies, it would be very helpful.”
She looked at Dr. Greene, who regarded her steadily from his
seat behind the desk. His expression gave her no clue as to what her
answer should be.
“What if I don’t?” she asked. “What would you do to me?”
“You would be allowed to stay among us,” Julian said. The answer
surprised her. “No harm would come to you.”
“Unless it came from Ialdaboth,” Lucien added, “when he takes over
the place because you didn’t help us.” His tone was wry, but not angry.
No doubt about it—these two were crazy. They should have tied
her to a pole and beaten her until she told them what they wanted to
know. Or better yet—
“Why don’t you just read it all out of my mind?”
Lucien smiled. Julian looked sheepish.
“We have, a little,” Lucien said, sounding not at all repentant. “We
need more, though, and what we need is inaccessible without your
cooperation.”
Ridiculous. It would be so simple for them to force their way into
her mind and take what they wanted. They were weak, unwilling to do
what was necessary to defeat the Dark Children. If she set herself up
properly in this place, she could kill them all before Ialdaboth arrived,
gain his favor through the blood of his enemies, and sit at his right hand
when he took over the whole of the vampire world and began the
She closed her eyes, quashing the thoughts. That was the way
she’d been trained to think, over two hundred fifty years of initiation,
training, brainwashing, whatever you wanted to call it. Her brain, her
body, both wanted to follow the old patterns. Only her heart was prepared
to change.
Fighting the echoes of Ialdaboth’s voice in her head, she slowly
opened her eyes.
“I’ll do whatever I can for you.”
“Good.” Julian stood. “Take some time, then. Collect your
thoughts. We’ll meet again at midnight.”
She watched Julian and Lucien leave, still not sure she was right
to trust them.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Dr. Greene asked.
She jumped—she’d almost forgotten he was there. “Ialdaboth
would kill me in a heartbeat. Julian’s offering me a second chance. It
“Do you think you’ll be all right? If you need more recovery time,
say the word and I’ll be sure you get it.”
He was so sincere, Lilith thought. No one had ever been concerned
about her well-being. Of course, he was a doctor, so it was his
job, but it felt like more than that. More personal. She smiled gently at
him, and he smiled back, his green eyes warm.
“Thank you,” she said. “I want to do this, though, and as soon as
possible.” She felt good. Like all her pieces were back where they
belonged. “I’ll be fine.”
He shrugged. “Do you want me with you, then? Just in case? Or
for moral support?”
“Yes. Yes, that would be nice.”
Jarod wasn’t sure what had prompted him to offer to be with
Lilith during her questioning. Physically he knew she was fine. Emotionally
she seemed to be holding up remarkably well. In short, she
didn’t need him.
Why had she agreed, then? For the same reason he’d offered? A
deep-seated gut feeling, an inexplicable impulse? It was hard to say.
She was nice to talk to, though. He didn’t get to spend much time
simply talking to anyone. Though their conversations had been far from
normal, at least they’d involved some kind of social interaction.
That was it. He was lonely. And she was conflicted. A match
made in heaven.
Whatever Jarod’s motives, at midnight he was sitting in Julian’s
office while Julian and Lucien interrogated Lilith.
Perhaps “interrogated” w
as too strong a word. That was how
he’d thought of it, but they merely asked a series of questions, and she
answered them as best she could.
“How many are in the main Enclave?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps five hundred.”
Julian’s question was asked gently, and Lilith’s answer was soft
and carefully considered.
“Damn,” said Lucien. “Where is the largest colony? Scotland or
New Zealand?”
“Those are the same colony. They stay in Scotland in the winter
and New Zealand for the summer. Or, actually, the winter again. To
take advantage of the long nights. The largest colony is in Eastern
Europe. Near the Carpathians.”
Julian snorted. “Transylvania.”
“In that vicinity, yes.”
“Why? Just for the highest possible level of ridiculousness?”
Lilith shook her head. “There’s a reason. Ialdaboth says he was
born there.”
“He was,” said Lucien. “So was I. The Mother’s Spine Mountains.
There’s a sacred cave, or there was. The four of us were born
there—myself, Ialdaboth, Aanu and Ruha. But I haven’t heard from
either Aanu or Ruha in several thousand years.”
“That’s too bad,” said Julian. “Didn’t you travel with Aanu for a while?”
“We drowned in the Great Flood together. We wrote the Book
when we came back.”
Jarod, watching Lilith, noticed a slight change in her skin color as
the shadows under her cheekbones went grayer. Her forehead creased
in a frown.
“Lilith, are you all right?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I remember something . . .”
She looked at Lucien. “I think I might know where Aanu is.”
Three
Just past dawn, Jarod sat in Lilith’s room, making sure her transition
to the Sleep went smoothly. There was no reason to worry, he
supposed. She appeared to have healed, her vampiric systems functioning
normally.
At her request, he hadn’t prepared the IV. Instead, he’d laid in a
supply of Vivian’s drinks for her with strict instructions on when to
drink them. He’d have to stop by at dusk to be sure her system had
responded properly to the plasma.
She was fine. She wasn’t breathing, her skin was waxy and cool,
her heart silent. But there was something about her—an aura of sorts