“You mean tell him the truth?”
He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corners in an almost-smile.
“Sometimes it just has to be done.”
“But the danger to Daniel . . .”
Julian sobered. “Yes, I know. The way I see it, this will go one of
two ways. Either DeAngelo’s knowing the truth about Daniel—and
about the two of you, and about me—will ease the way for Daniel and
actually be a great help in his therapy. Or the doctor will start to identify
with the less fortunate aspects of his former personality and decide
he has to slay vampires again.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“No, it wouldn’t be. But if it comes down to it, I can deal with
him.”
“You mean kill him?”
“Only if it comes to that.”
Tara took a long breath. “I really, really don’t like this.”
“I know.” He paused, studying her face. “You and Gray—you
were lovers in that previous life, weren’t you?”
She felt her face redden. “It kind of looks that way, yes.”
She wished he would look away. His scrutiny seemed to bore into
her soul, and it only intensified as he spoke.
“You need to be prepared, Tara. If you knew me in a previous life,
and you also knew DeAngelo, then it’s possible—likely, even—that
DeAngelo knew me, too. And if he’s having these dreams, too . . .” He
trailed off, reached to lay a hand on her shoulder. “If he figures out that
vampires are real and reverts to Liam’s policy of indiscriminate killing
Tara, I won’t let him hurt Daniel or anyone in the Underground.
You need to be prepared for that.”
She understood only too well. And she hated it. But she nodded,
anyway, knowing he was waiting for it.
“Don’t look so worried,” Julian said. “From what you’ve told me,
the doctor sounds like a reasonable person. If he starts channeling
Liam, I’m sure we can talk him down.” He squeezed her shoulder.
“We’re the good guys, after all. He’ll understand that.”
She knew he was trying to reassure her, but it wasn’t working.
Instead, she felt as if there were something—something important—
that he wasn’t telling her. Then again, between the weird past-life
dreams and lack of sleep, maybe she was getting paranoid. Either way,
she had to trust Julian.
And maybe it would all work out.
She laid her hand on top of his on her shoulder. “Okay. We’ll just
have to see what happens.”
Frowning, Gray hung up the phone. Normally, he would have been
excited about the news he’d just received, but for some reason, something
didn’t seem right.
He looked down at the notes he’d written on the pad next to the
phone. Possibly Australian aboriginal dialect previously unrecorded.
His linguist friend, Mark, whom he contacted whenever a mysterious
language popped up in a past-life session, had been nearly bouncing off
the walls with ecstasy. The language Daniel had spoken in his last
session appeared to be a more primitive version of a language spoken
by modern aborigines. Mark hadn’t been sure how old it might be, but
his colleagues were analyzing it.
Gray recalled a similar occurrence, a few years ago. He’d had a
patient who, under hypnosis, had spoken for hours on end in a language
Mark had finally identified as Etruscan. Another patient’s tongue of
choice had never been positively identified. Mark had theorized it to be
an ancient precursor to Greek, but he could neither confirm that nor
translate the language fragments.
So why did Daniel’s speaking a foreign language seem so strange?
Maybe because the other patients hadn’t looked Etruscan or ancient
Greek. Whereas Daniel actually looked as if he could be of Australian
aboriginal heritage.
Gray dropped his face to his hands, rubbing his forehead with his
fingertips. He needed to get a grip. The diaries he’d read, the strange
reaction he was having to Tara . . . then being reminded that he’d seen
vampires in his personal journey through past-life regression . . . he
was starting to question everything he believed in.
No, he wasn’t going to go there. He didn’t think he could deal
with it right now.
Instead, he called Tara. She sounded sleepy, but perked up when
he explained what he’d discovered.
“So you think this really might be a past life experience?” she
asked.
“I think there’s a good chance.” He paused. “Listen, I know you
didn’t bring Daniel to me looking to explore his past lives. And it sounds
as if his current one has been traumatic enough. But sometimes past-
life regression is helpful in solving current problems. Can we meet,
maybe today for lunch, if you’re free, and discuss this?”
“Another consultation?” She sounded wary.
“Informal.” He smiled. “I won’t charge you.”
“All right.” He could hear her answering smile in her voice. “It’s
a date. I’ll meet you at your office.”
She hung up before he could protest her use of the word “date.”
Bemused, he stared at the phone for a few seconds before he carefully
replaced the receiver.
* * *
But maybe it was a date, Gray thought later. If the way his heart
began to accelerate when he saw Tara walk into the reception area of
his office was any indication, the term wasn’t far off the mark. He
really had to watch himself. Getting involved with her could cause him
all manner of problems.
Still, as they walked to the diner on the corner, he couldn’t resist
carefully bumping shoulders with her. She didn’t seem to mind. If she
even noticed. She did seem rather absorbed in her own thoughts.
He found out why when they were seated in the diner, eating
sandwiches.
“I’ve given a great deal of thought to your suggestion about Daniel.
You know—the past-life regression thing,” she said. She’d eaten only
a few bites of her sandwich and was merely playing with her French
fries. “He and I had a discussion yesterday after his session, and he
has some specific goals he wants to address.”
Gray frowned in sudden realization. “Where is Daniel, anyway?
He doesn’t go to regular school, does he?”
Tara’s face froze, and she stopped chewing. Then, carefully, she
said, “He’s at home with a tutor. My ex-husband pays for private schooling.”
Her words were even, as if she were reciting something. Then
she laughed a little. “I can only stand so much second-hand algebra.”
“He’s learning algebra already? Bright kid.” He paused, giving
her a chance to respond, but she didn’t. “So what are these specific
goals?”
“He’s aware of certain blank areas in his memory. He wants to
fill those in. One of those was remembering his mother, and now he’d
like to address other issues.”
“So what are you proposing?”
“I propose that we do exactly what Daniel wants to do, and no
more. If that leads us into past life stu
ff again, so be it. If not, then I
think it’s best to leave it alone.” She dragged an abnormally long French
fry through the puddle of ketchup on her plate. “I don’t want to cause
him too much stress. Not right now. The past life memories won’t go
away. He can dredge them up any time he chooses. Right now I think
we need to focus on the immediate issues.”
“All right, fair enough.” He watched her for a few seconds, as
she again attended to her food. Her eating pattern struck him as ner-
vous—she was pulling pieces out of her sandwich instead of eating the
whole thing, and she’d constructed some sort of complicated filing sys
tem with her fries. They seemed to be sorted by length, although some
of the piles had fallen into each other.
Finally he said, “Speaking of immediate issues . . .”
“Yes?” she prompted.
“The déjà vu thing we were talking about. I went through some of
my old therapy journals, just out of curiosity.”
“And?”
“I found some strange things. I think that might have been what I
was remembering. If so, it’s all just a coincidence.”
“You mean we didn’t actually know each other in a past life?
What makes you say that?”
“Because the journal I was remembering didn’t refer to a past-
life regression. It was something else.” He waved vaguely. “Some
kind of hallucination or dream recall, or something along those lines.”
“Are you sure?”
“It has to be. There were vampires in it.” He took a bite of his
sandwich and shrugged.
She laughed, but the sound seemed false. “Really? You remembered
being with me and hunting vampires?”
“There was a woman described in the visions, yes. As to whether
it was you, well, I doubt it. But, yes, I was hunting vampires with her.
How did you know?”
She dodged the question. “What kind of vampires?”
“Nasty ones with sharp, pointy teeth. What other kind is there?”
She looked at him levelly, her expression remarkably serious. “Well,
I don’t know. Because in the dream I had, there was a nice one who
rescued us.”
He gaped at her. “My God. You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“This is bizarre. Extremely bizarre. There was a similar scene in
my journals.” He shook his head slowly. “There has to be some logical
explanation.”
“And I’m sure you’ll think of it sometime soon. When you do, let
me know.”
She stood and wheeled, but he caught her by the elbow.
“Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?” she said.
“Storming off. You say cryptic things, and then you storm off. Is
there something you’re not telling me?”
She just looked at him. Something lurked behind her eyes, some
thing that he thought might dissolve into tears. Finally she sat back
down. “I’m afraid for Daniel.”
Okay, unexpected change of subject, but he could handle it. “What
does any of this have to do with Daniel?”
“I know things about Daniel that you don’t. I’m counting on you
to be able to help him. If you can’t handle—” She broke off.
Gray was flummoxed. He didn’t understand the intensity in her
voice, or the way her eyes seemed about to overflow. “What does this
have to do with ridiculous dreams about vampires?”
“That we’re both having. The same dreams.” She closed her
eyes suddenly, squeezing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “You
know what? Never mind. I need to talk to Daniel. If he wants to continue
with his therapy, you’ll see us tonight.”
This time she went, leaving half her sandwich behind. Watching
her go, Gray realized he had no idea what they’d just been talking
about.
“I want to go.”
“Are you sure?” Tara felt she had to ask the question. But, truthfully,
Daniel looked about as sober and certain as she’d ever seen him.
“I mean, I’m not entirely sure he’s going to be able to deal with you
once the pieces start coming together.”
“He already thinks I’m having past-life regressions. Why would
he think any different?”
“Daniel, you said you wanted to remember feeding. You won’t be
able to pass that off as a past-life thing.”
“I don’t think there’s going to be a problem. Obviously he’s hunted
vampires in a previous life, so he knows they’re real.”
“No, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t believe any of it’s real.”
Daniel frowned. “How could he not believe it if you’re both having
the same dreams?”
“Because he’s a human being, and human beings can be unbelievably
thick-headed and stupid.”
Daniel smiled a little. “Except you, right?”
“Are you kidding? I went out with Dom for nearly two years
without ever figuring out he was a vampire.” She gave a wry grin,
remembering what she’d come to think of as the Brain Dead Years. “I
thought he was just afraid of commitment.”
Daniel laughed, then suddenly sobered. “Dom. Dominic.”
“Yes.” She swallowed, surprised by the surge of emotion. It had
been a long time since she’d cried for Dom. “It was because of him
that I started believing in the existence of vampires. Some of his friends
ended up introducing me to the Senior. You knew him?”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“Not that long. Three years is . . . is a heartbeat to me.”
Tara nodded. She hadn’t thought of it that way before. So much
had happened to her in the past three years, sometimes it felt like a
lifetime.
The silence stretched, but she didn’t notice until Daniel spoke
again, his voice quiet and strained. “I need this, Tara. I need to know. I
need to know what I am before I can decide what I want to be.”
“Are you sure?” She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know.
“I’m sure. And then . . . I think I’m going to do it. Change back.”
He paused. “Promise me you won’t leave me. If I do turn mortal, I’m
going to need you. I think I’m going to need a mom.”
Blinking away sudden tears, Tara smiled and held her arms out to
him. He came to her, let her hold him. “I can do that,” she said.
He held her tight. “Thank you.”
Five
It had been Daniel’s decision, and that was the way it should be,
so Tara sat quietly on her usual chair in the corner and waited for the
inevitable drama to unfold.
Daniel looked Gray straight in the eye and said, “I need to know
the truth about myself, Dr. DeAngelo.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Gray said gently, exactly as if he
were talking to a child. “I want to help you get to the root of your
problems.”
“Yes. And I think you can do that. Promise me you’ll do that.”
“I’ll do what I can, of course.” He looked toward Tara, a question
in his eyes, but she looked away.
A few minutes later, the session was
underway.
“I’m in the darkness again. The smell is thick. Alley smells. Garbage
and, um, piss, I guess.” Daniel spoke in a low monotone. Gray
had been leading him deeper into the meditative state for the last half-
hour. In spite of herself, Tara had become absorbed in the interplay. At
times it seemed more like Daniel was leading Gray than the other way
around. But Daniel knew what he wanted, knew where he had to go,
and in spite of his memory lapses, she had the feeling he had a strength
of mind unlike anything Gray had ever encountered before.
“What are you doing there?” Gray’s voice, too, was soft.
“I’m hunting.”
“For what?”
“For food.”
“Your mother, your parents, where are they? Do they feed you?”
Daniel’s blank eyes stared into space. He barely blinked as the
mental image absorbed him. “They’re dead. They died a long time ago.
The one who Changed me, he taught me how to hunt, how to feed.”
Tara held her breath. Gray said, “What do you hunt? What do you
eat?”
There was a long pause. Finally, Daniel broke the silence. “Rats,
mostly. Sometimes dogs and cats.”
Carefully, slowly, Tara let her breath out. Gray’s face had tightened
in carefully controlled disgust, but when he spoke, his voice re
mained a gentle monotone. “Do you kill them yourself?”
“Yes. He taught me how. He killed people sometimes but he told
me not to try. He said I was too small, and that animals were safer. But
he said if I could get a human being, it would taste so much better. So
maybe he would teach me later how to do it, even though I was small.”
“Who was this man? What was his name?”
“His name was Reaper. That was what he called himself. I don’t
know what his real name was.”
“Would you recognize him if you saw him?”
“He’s dead. He fell asleep in the sun one time, and he caught on
fire. I saw his bones the next morning. I think somebody tied him up so
he couldn’t get home.”
Tara’s gaze shot to Gray, and she held her breath. But his face
remained impassive.
“All right, Daniel,” he said, “I think that’s enough.”
He brought Daniel back slowly, as usual, but this time didn’t ask
him to leave the room right away. Instead he knelt in front of Daniel’s