by Margaret Carter, Crystal Green, Erica Orloff, Patricia Rosemor
“Jodie, what’s wrong?” Linnet gave her an awkward pat on the back. “It’s okay now, nobody will hurt you.”
Jodie swiped her hand across her eyes. “I know. But I’m still scared.”
“Of Max?”
She shook her head, sniffling.
Linnet dug a tissue out of her purse and gave it to Jodie. “You’re afraid Nola will catch up with you?”
“Not that. I know this sounds way dumb to you, but I’m freaked about leaving her. Scared I’ll go back to her, that I won’t be able to stop myself.”
“Why would you want to?”
The artificial light made Jodie’s eyes look gray shadowed. “You don’t understand! It’s not just that addiction Max talked about. Nola’s…I know she did awful things, like what happened to Dee. But before that, I thought she was way cool. We all did.”
“You really liked being her pets?” Linnet’s stomach cramped. “Even Deanna?”
“We didn’t think we were pets. It was like we were all her favorites. Or pretended we were. Even Dee, until Anthony took her away.”
The warmth in Jodie’s voice made Linnet queasy. “So if I’d tried harder to get Dee away from Nola, maybe barged in on one of those parties and dragged her away—”
“That wouldn’t have worked. She’d just have sneaked back there the next night.”
“I couldn’t have stopped her,” Linnet murmured, to herself rather than the girl. “It wasn’t my fault.” Recognizing Jodie’s fascination with the vampire woman, Linnet realized that once Deanna had fallen under Nola’s influence, nobody could have rescued her against her will.
I don’t have to be ashamed to face Robin and the rest of the family, she thought. It wasn’t my fault.
When the cab pulled up, Jodie squeezed her hands. “Thanks, really, I’m sorry about everything, I just—well, thanks.” She crawled into the back seat. Linnet joined her there and gave the driver their destination.
He drove them through town, inland a few miles, to the small regional airport. As Max had predicted, even at the low speed limit allowed in downtown Monterey, the trip didn’t take long. They didn’t talk during the ride. At the terminal, Linnet sat in the cab at the curb until Jodie vanished into the building. She hoped Max’s hypnotic command would stick long enough to override the girl’s craving to return to Nola. Brooding over that point, Linnet rode the cab back to the motel, paid the driver and headed for the parking lot.
Hurrying to the rental car, she found Max slumped in the back, his eyes closed. Her heart hammered. What would she do if he’d fallen unconscious and she couldn’t wake him? The moment she opened the door, though, he stirred. She caught the glint of crimson in his half-open eyes.
“Max, look at me!” She crowded into the back seat with him, almost kneeling on his legs. He groaned faintly when she bunched up his shirt to check the bullet wound. “You won’t die on me, will you?”
“Hardly.” He pushed himself from a reclining position into a half-sitting one, wincing in obvious pain. “Then I wouldn’t be able to show you the Globe.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “What are you now, delirious?” With the still-damp cloth, she dabbed around the wound until she’d wiped off most of the dried blood. After a quick look out the window to make sure nobody was passing nearby, she switched on the overhead bulb to examine the injury. She saw a ragged hole with no sign of fresh bleeding. Patting the area dry, she said, “I don’t have any bandages, but it looks like you’ll be okay without them.” She turned off the light.
“Yes,” he whispered. “We heal quickly.” His fingers curled around her wrist, pressing her hand against his chest. His fingertips caressed the pulse point.
She had to brace herself with the other hand to keep from falling onto him. The red gleam in his eyes made her heartbeat stutter with mingled fear and excitement. “Max, what are you doing?”
His tongue flicked out to lick his lips. His fixed stare showed no sign that he’d heard her at all. She caught herself swaying toward him. She focused on the weight of the ankh dangling from the chain around her neck. “Stop,” she whispered.
He blinked. “I need you. Please.” He sounded almost hurt by her rejection.
Did he mean to drink her blood? He’d already taken it without her consent, invaded her dreams. Why did he bother to ask now?
Because now, alert, she had the ability to resist. Because his wound made her the stronger of the two.
If he’d wanted to drain her life, he could have done it many times already. Asking permission showed his good faith. She let out a pent-up breath, easing the ache in her chest. “All right.” She braced herself for the onslaught of his hunger.
Leaning forward, he nuzzled her throat. Though his skin felt as cold as a mountain stream, the shiver that convulsed her was pleasant, not chilling. The piercing sting she expected didn’t come. Max pulled away, his eyes drifting shut, and he drew a deep breath. A wave of warmth surged through her. Sparks flashed before her eyes, and for a second her head seemed to float.
When the faintness subsided, she said, “What was that?”
“Forgive me,” he breathed. “I…borrowed…from you.”
“The way you did from Jodie.”
A cautious nod.
“It didn’t hurt.” On the contrary, it had left her with an echo of tingling pleasure.
“No, you’re healthy enough to spare some of your life force. But it’s only a temporary stopgap. I need blood to complete the healing.”
She stiffened and drew her hand out of his loose grip. “Okay, if you have to.”
“Not yours. More than you can give. Animal blood.”
She reminded herself that many creatures in the natural ecological balance fed on blood, and that such a diet was no grosser than eating a chunk of animal flesh. “Where do you plan on getting it?”
“I think I know a source. You’ll have to drive.”
She moved into the front seat and started the car. “Okay, where?”
“Remember the route we followed into town? Go back that way. I’ll give you more detailed directions later.”
Over the past few minutes, fog had begun gathering. She cautiously pulled out of the lot and crept along under the speed limit. Away from the motel, driving along two-lane streets with scant traffic, she said, “Thanks for saving my life.”
“Pardon?”
“When Jodie shot at us. You jumped in front of me on purpose.”
“Oh, that? Purely a reflex response in the heat of the moment.”
She smiled at his gruff tone. He actually sounded embarrassed. “You’d do that for any mortal, right?”
“Not mortal,” he said. “We are mortal, too. We can be killed. We call you ephemerals.”
“Oh, yeah. Makes it easy to dismiss us as unimportant, I guess.” She felt a little ashamed of needling him. He was hurt, and, after all, he really had saved her life.
“Hardly. If it comes to that, you may have saved me, too, tackling her that way. Reckless as it was.”
“If we saved each other, we’re even. About Jodie. Are you sure it’s safe to let her run loose?”
“I believe so. Her true will is invested in getting free from Nola. I only commanded her to do what she herself wanted.”
Recalling Jodie’s conflicted tears, Linnet wasn’t so sure escaping represented the girl’s deepest will. But this was no time to harass Max with her doubts.
After they’d passed through downtown, they picked up Route 68 around the perimeter of the Fort Ord Army Base. About half an hour away from the city, following secondary highways toward Salinas, they moved into farming country. The fog thinned as they left the coast and finally dissipated altogether. After an extended drive along poorly lit roads, they passed the shadowy silhouette of a house and barn. “Here’s a likely prospect,” said Max. He directed her to pull onto the shoulder under a tree. “With the lights off, the car won’t attract much attention from anyone driving past.”
“So what’s
here?”
“Horses. Three of them, in this field.”
She peered through the window, but in the dark she could distinguish only vague shapes that could be animals, trees or tractors, for all she could tell. “Right, you have super night vision.”
“And I see into the infrared range. Their body heat is obvious to me.” He opened the door to get out. Linnet did the same. “You should stay here,” he said.
“Wait in the car by myself? No way. Anyhow, I can stand as your lookout in case somebody wanders by.” She hugged herself, surprised by the nip in the air. The temperature had dropped noticeably since the earlier part of the night.
Since Max didn’t persist with his objections, she followed him to the split-rail fence. When he bent over to crawl between the rails into the pasture, she had second thoughts about wanting to stick with him. But she made it through with no worse damage than snagging her hair on a splinter.
She stumbled trying to keep up with his long stride. He paused to wait for her. “I forgot you can’t see the ground properly.” He took her hand in his cool, firm grip and led her along.
A couple of minutes’ walk brought them to a pond sheltered by a cluster of trees. “Now we’re not likely to be spotted from the road.” He let go of her hand and stretched out his arms, crooning a wordless hum. Linnet felt the hair on her arms lift as if stirred by static electricity. The strands at the back of her neck rustled, and a faint buzz vibrated her teeth.
Three dark forms trotted toward them from the middle of the field. “Good girl. Come here,” he murmured. “Yes, you.”
Two of the horses stopped, while the third walked up to Max. Linnet swallowed with nervousness at the animal’s bulk. Her last close-up experience with the species, a pony ride at the county fair when she was ten, hadn’t prepared her for the size of this creature.
The mare didn’t pay any attention to Linnet, though. Max stroked the animal’s back, and she whickered softly as if she’d known him all her life. When he resumed his hypnotic hum, more quietly now, she hung her head, pressing close to him. He ran his hands over her neck, apparently feeling for a vein. Linnet couldn’t see much of his face other than the red glow at the centers of his eyes.
“You’re going to bite into it just like that?” she whispered. “Doesn’t look very clean.”
He flashed her a smile. Now that her eyes were adjusting to the dark, she could see the whiteness of his teeth, as even and humanlike as ever. “Do you imagine my ancestors roaming the Alps and the Himalayas with bottles of disinfectant to sterilize the skin of their prey? Our saliva contains a mild antiseptic. There’s no danger of infection for either the animal or me.”
He wrapped his arms around the mare’s neck. With his face hidden from her, Linnet couldn’t see him pierce the hide, but she did hear faint lapping sounds. She turned her back, performing her nominal duty as lookout, and reminded herself not to indulge in humancentric prejudice. As a biology major, she’d dissected enough frogs in college that she shouldn’t be fazed by Max’s comparatively neat, nongross feeding habits.
Nevertheless, when he touched her arm and she turned to face him, she was glad she couldn’t see any bloodstains on his mouth. In fact, he didn’t look any different from the way he normally did. “No fangs?”
“Only in the transformed shape I showed you earlier. That’s not necessary for drawing blood. My teeth are razor sharp and leave a thin incision that will disappear in a day or two.” True, the mare didn’t look injured. She whinnied a farewell as if nothing had happened. As for Max, his voice sounded stronger. He took Linnet’s hand and led her back to the car. Now his flesh felt simply cool, not icy.
“You may as well keep driving,” he said. “I need to rest.”
“You said you heal quickly.” She belted herself in and started the engine, with Max reclining in the front passenger seat. “How quick, exactly? How long do we have to put off our visit to Nola? When Jodie doesn’t report soon, she might get suspicious.”
“Don’t worry, one full day of sleep should restore me to full strength. We’ll talk about it later.” He closed his eyes. Linnet doubted he would fall asleep in the car, but she decided not to pester him. She focused on retracing their route and coping with the fog when they neared the coast again.
In the motel parking lot he changed into the clean shirt. Linnet wished she had thought of spare clothes for herself, after rolling on the ground with Jodie and crawling through fence rails. The clerk didn’t give them a second look on their way to the elevator, though. Back in the room, she grabbed her nightclothes and ducked into the shower.
When she came out, with her nightgown discreetly covered by a terry-cloth beach robe, Max was lying on his bed, still dressed except for his shoes. He’d left the bedside lamps off. “I’ll rest as much as possible,” he said, “but I can’t actually sleep until dawn. You should try to, though.”
She looked at the clock. “I can’t believe it’s that long after midnight. I’m too wired to sleep yet. We should be safe here, right?”
“Yes. If Nola had another minion or two waiting as backup, Jodie would have mentioned it. And I sensed it was true that she hadn’t made contact with Nola.”
“Well, yeah, but—no offense—you were sure about what you sensed earlier, and you were wrong.”
“I don’t think Jodie would have dared to communicate with Nola while I was within range. Jodie would have expected me to be aware of any such communication. Remember, I’m older than Nola, and for our kind, age means power.”
“Five hundred years.” Linnet sat on the other bed, running her fingers through her hair. “I can’t imagine it. You were alive when Elizabeth’s navy defeated the Spanish Armada. You saw Shakespeare and Ben Jonson.”
“Yes, and I meant it when I offered to show you the Globe.”
As tempting as the offer sounded, Linnet didn’t seriously believe he would give her a second thought once they had completed their quest. “We can talk about it after we defeat Nola Grant. So the plan’s changed. We have to wait until tomorrow evening, when you’re rested and healed up. It’ll be more dangerous than invading her space in daylight, won’t it?”
“Yes. That is one reason I’m making another change in the plan. We are not going to her house. I’m going alone.”
“Now, wait a minute! We have a deal!” She felt heat flood her skin.
“I’m changing the terms. I’ll take along that ridiculous tape recorder, if you insist, and get the confession you have your heart set upon. But I can’t allow you to confront her when she’s at full strength. Especially now that we know how far she’s willing to go.”
“What are you talking about?” She felt like hitting him. Even if it weren’t for his bullet wound, though, the prospect of humiliating herself with a futile attack would have stopped her.
“Nola sent her pet after me with a deadly weapon. It’s highly unlikely that the girl could have killed me, but not impossible. A lucky shot—or unlucky, depending on your viewpoint—could have damaged my brain beyond repair. If Nola would take that risk, after one of her disciples had already killed Anthony, what would she do to an ephemeral who got in her way? If she’s a threat to her own kin, imagine how dangerous she’d be to you.”
“So I’m just a liability, a human weakling you have to protect.” She stomped over to the bed, clenching her fists against the temptation to smack him after all. “I know you think ephemerals are worthless, but damn it, we had an agreement!”
Max sat up. “Linnet, please—”
“Don’t go ‘please’ at me, as if my opinion made one bit of difference to you.” Her eyes burned. She rubbed away tears of anger. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you planned to dump me all along. Don’t you people have a concept of honor? Or are ephemerals just animals, so honor doesn’t apply?”
“Linnet, stop this!” He grabbed her arm and forced her onto the mattress. She yielded, mainly because she knew fighting him would be hopeless. “I don’t consider you an animal, m
uch less worthless. I do value the arts your people produce. And I value courage and devotion such as yours.”
“Oh, I get it, some of your best friends are ephemerals.”
“Not until now.” He sighed. “If you’ll calm down enough to listen, I’ll try to explain my feelings about the human race.”
“Sounds like a tall order in twenty-five words or less.” Her heartbeat slowed, and the pounding in her head faded. She momentarily wondered whether he was sneaking in some kind of hypnotic influence despite the necklace she’d dutifully put on again right after her shower. “Okay, I’m listening.”
He clasped her hands between his. “Anthony was much younger than I. He was born in the 1890s, in the eastern part of Germany near what is now Poland. Although the sibling bond is vitally important to us, ordinarily I wouldn’t have had much contact with him until he entered adolescence.”
“Why not?”
“With our extended lives, we don’t have the kind of family structure common among you. We don’t marry. Females go into estrus and mate at rare intervals and are fertile even less often. A woman cares for her infant alone until weaning, at three or four years. Then a mentor takes over the child’s upbringing, an uncle or aunt if one is available and old enough for the responsibility. Otherwise, one of the elders assumes the role.”
“What about the father?”
“We don’t know our fathers. The male’s role is purely genetic.”
“So this mentor sort of fills the role.” Again Linnet reminded herself that she shouldn’t be shocked. Vampire family dynamics sounded conventional compared to the way some animals bred and reared their young.
“The chosen mentor serves as a guardian until maturity, about age thirty, and as an adviser for the next century or so. We have little contact with our mothers after early childhood. A brother or sister helps to fill what you’d doubtless consider a painful gap in the kinship network.”
“That’s hard to imagine. Sure, Mom and I have had our differences, but to leave her at age four—that’s something else.”
“As I mentioned, your kind of family wouldn’t suit our long lifespans. Can you visualize the intensity of that mother-child relationship if it continued for millennia?”