was more familiar with the patterns and rhythms of his energies. He
felt nothing. But had he drained Lucien, or was he himself too drained
to be of any use? He couldn’t tell. Channeling that massive power had
taken more from him than he’d ever dreamed he could give. It would
regenerate—somehow he knew that—but he didn’t know how long it
would take. And he needed something now. Otherwise neither Lucien
nor Aanu would ever breathe again.
He pressed his hand harder into Lucien’s chest, seeking a
heartbeat. But also seeking something else, something he wasn’t
completely sure of. A new instinct had taken over. It made him lean
closer, until finally his face lay against his hand, then he moved his hand
away, pressing his ear against the place where Lucien’s heartbeat should
have been. He laid his palms flat on Lucien’s chest, closed his eyes.
There. Faint, almost beyond his ability to sense it. A spark of
something.
He reached for it, wrapped his own energies around it.
He had no idea how or why this worked, but he knew it did. And
he knew it was his power, unlike any power any creature on earth had
ever wielded. Later, when he could afford the time, he’d let himself
marvel at it. Maybe even be humbled by it. Right now, he could only
rejoice in his ability to sense that spark of life left inside this man, his
friend, whom he’d been so certain he’d lost.
That spark, that tiny ember of near-life, seemed to grow even as
he touched it. It sought him, reached for him, and he let his power
enfold it.
Nestled in that light, the spark grew. He nurtured it as best he
could—he hadn’t quite gotten the feel for this new energy of his yet, all
its permutations and possibilities. He could only ride with it, let it carry
him where it needed to go. Until, finally, he felt something stir under his
ear, heard the vague and trembling beginnings of a heartbeat.
And suddenly he knew. Understood what had happened, what
had changed. Lucien was alive, but he had been changed. He had
power that could restore Lucien’s life, but not his immortality. There
just hadn’t been enough of him left.
Julian forced away the surge of regret that threatened his
concentration. He nursed the growing spark of life carefully for a few
more moments, until he was certain it would not go out if he left it.
Then he shifted his attention to Aanu.
Again, the tiny flame, the barely distinguishable spark. It was
enough to find, to nurture, to feed from and carefully augment, layer by
glittering layer, until Aanu, too, breathed again.
The effort should have drained him, but it didn’t. Instead, he
realized as he leaned away from Aanu, he felt stronger, more focused.
Full of light and power, as if nothing had been taken from him, but only
absorbed.
Drawing a deep breath, he sat back and scanned the room to
see Lilith, Jarod, and William all huddled on Lilith’s bed, all looking
at him, expectant.
“Are they . . .” Jarod ventured.
“They’re alive,” Julian answered. He touched Lucien’s chest
the heartbeat—it was everything that made Lucien alive. It had
grown, strengthened, even since he had finished his careful tending.
“They’re alive,” he said again, reminding himself. Now that he could
think again, all he could summon was sadness. Why would they
have to pay such a price, when he had paid nothing? Indeed, had
become stronger because of their sacrifice? It wasn’t right.
They could chose to be Turned, to become vampires—but Julian
didn’t think either of them would. But even if they did choose that
path, they would never again be what they had been. That power,
that near-limitless indestructibility, was gone forever. The First
Demons were gone.
“He’s gone,” said Lilith suddenly. “Ialdaboth. He’s gone. He’s
dead.” She smiled, laughed, then abruptly began to cry. “He’s not in
my head anymore. He’s dead. Really, truly dead.”
Jarod put his arm around her.
Lucien moved a little on the floor, and Julian leaned toward
him. Slowly, Lucien opened his eyes.
“Hey,” he said, and smiled a little. “I’m alive.” He sat up, and
Julian moved to help him. Lucien lifted his hands and looked at
them. “I’m alive. That’s so cool.”
And, finally, Julian felt a wash of peace, of accomplishment,
come over him. It was over.
* * *
It seemed too mundane to Julian, meeting in their usual
configuration in his office only hours after he had torn the souls out
of the last two First Demons. But that was what they did, because
it was what they had always done. It was familiar.
Aanu sat with his head bent, his hand against his chest. “My
heart beats differently,” he said, his tone more than a little perplexed.
He looked up at Lucien. “Does yours?”
Lucien put his hand against his chest. “Yes. Faster. A little
louder, I think.” He shook his head a little, smiled. “It’s interesting,
don’t you think?”
“We’re going to die,” said Aanu. “We’re actually going to die.”
Lucien shrugged. “Well, not this afternoon.”
Aanu grinned. “No, I suspect not.”
Jarod took off his glasses and wiped the lenses on his shirttail.
“What about you, Julian? Have there been any changes?”
He had examined both Aanu and Lucien, pronouncing them
both fit and healthy, but quite mortal. Julian wasn’t certain how the
doctor had made that determination—something in their blood,
perhaps—but it had only been confirmation of what all three of
them already knew.
“I feel stronger,” he said reluctantly. Lorelei laid a hand on his
shoulder, but he found no comfort in her touch. “It shouldn’t be this
way,” he said. “I should have lost something, too.”
“It’s your power,” said Lucien gently. “That’s what it says in
the Book, though not very clearly or explicitly. Your gift is to give
life back.”
thought. A gift it was, a profoundly powerful gift, but who the hell
was he to decide who was worthy of it? Though he had yet to
explore the limits and depths of the power, he might conceivably be
able to raise the dead, make vampires mortal, make mortals immortal.
Just who was he to be given that kind of strength—or responsibility?
“You start with the vampires,” Lucien said. “The power came
to a vampire. Therefore, it’s meant for the vampire community.
Others can follow your lead, become something other than
bloodsuckers. We live on life—all of us do—but your way doesn’t
demand death. There are options now, different paths we can take.
Mortality for the Children, courtesy of the good doctor, here. Possibly
mortality even for the adults, by using some aspect of your powers.”
He shook his head. “Everything’s going to change. I hope I’m he
re
to see at least some of it.”
“I’m sorry,” said Julian.
“Don’t be.” Lucien shook his head again, his expression a mix
of wonder and bewilderment. “Everything’s going to change. Even
the Dark Children will have a chance to be saved. And I get to stay
with Vivian for a while. It really couldn’t get much better than that.”
Julian looked at Aanu, who had sat quietly through the
exchange. Julian had no idea how much of the conversation Lucien’s
brother had been able to understand. In Sumerian, he said, “What
about you? Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Aanu pressed his hand more firmly against his chest.
“It’s a different sound but a lovely one. And I, too, may live the rest
of my life in happiness.”
“Old age,” said Lucien, then lapsed into English. “I don’t care
what Vivian says. I think it’s gonna be cool.”
Epilogue
Five Months Later
Lorelei’s hand clenched hard on Julian’s, until he thought his
fingers would snap. His other hand pressed against the huge, round
mound of her belly as she strained with the burden her body carried.
“Okay, stop at the end of this contraction.” Jarod’s voice was
steady.
He sounded almost as if he’d specialized in the delivery of
babies, Julian thought, rather than in the study of blood. They’d
discussed the idea of having Lorelei deliver in a hospital, with a
regular obstetrician, but she had balked, afraid they might see
something untoward about the babies and try to take them away.
“I’m not stopping,” Lorelei snarled between clenched teeth. “I
want these things out of me.”
“Just wait for the next contraction,” said the doctor gently. “I
want to be sure the babies are situated right.”
As he checked the position of the first baby’s head, Julian
watched, caught up in the wonder of seeing even this small portion
of his child. Lorelei’s belly tensed again, and Jarod pressed his fingers
against the baby’s crown.
“Go ahead. Push. I’ll keep it from going too fast.”
The baby had other ideas, though, and in spite of the doctor’s
guiding hand, it slithered out after two more gargantuan efforts from
its mother. His mother, Julian noted as the doctor passed the slimy,
blood-streaked form into his hands.
“Now, wait just a minute for me, Lorelei. Breathe through the
next contraction.” The doctor quickly clipped the first baby’s
umbilical cord and clamped it off. “Get him on a towel over there,
Julian. Wrap him up and dry him off a little. We’ll give him to Lorelei
as soon as she’s done.”
Lorelei’s silence worried Julian. She should have been swearing
profusely by now. He hoped she was just tired. He wrapped the baby in a
soft towel and held him where she could see him, while Jarod coached her
through the second delivery. She looked all right—in fact, she was swearing
quite eloquently with her eyes.
“It’s a girl!” the doctor announced finally. He handed the second
baby to Lorelei, who, Julian noticed with some surprise, was crying.
“She’s beautiful,” she said. “Don’t just stand there, Julian. Get
her a blanket.”
He did. When he came back to wrap the baby, Lorelei already
had her at her breast, and the little girl was suckling happily.
“Give me the other one,” said Lorelei. “Two boobs, two ba-
bies—it comes out even.”
It took her a matter of moments to settle them both into position,
one at each breast, both content and drifting off to sleep. Julian
settled onto the edge of the bed and touched his daughter’s head,
then his son’s. Eight hundred years of life, and he’d never before
seen such a miracle.
“Do you have names?” the doctor asked.
“Michaela,” said Lorelei. “Michaela, my little girl, and Gabriel
my sweet little boy.”
“Angel names,” said Julian. “We thought it made a nice change
from all the demon ones.”
“Good call.” Jarod rubbed at his eyes.
Some tears there, too, Julian believed. “So . . .” he ventured.
“Did you notice anything unusual?”
Jarod shook his head. “Just babies, Julian. Just gorgeous, healthy
babies.”
Lorelei peered closely into Michaela’s eyes. “Lucien said they
weren’t human.”
Does it matter?” Julian asked, tracing a finger over Gabriel’s
shoulder.
Lorelei gave him with a watery smile. “No,” she said. “We got
exactly what we wanted.”
Smiling in return, Julian kissed her forehead. “Yes, I think we
did.”