

THE PAROUSIA

a novel

There are those whose teeth are swords,

whose fangs are knives,

to devour the poor from off the earth,

the needy from among mankind.

\- Proverbs 30:14
PART ONE

# 1

Wales, 1943 – The vampire hung from the crudely made cross, which was hastily fashioned out of a wooden fence pillar secured to a dying elm tree by several lengths of rusting barbed wire, his body staked to it using four broken tree limbs through his stomach, right thigh, and both biceps – a fanged simulation of the crucified Christ – waiting to be roasted by the rays of morning sunlight looming behind the shaded mountains on the horizon. The blood had ceased flowing from the stab wounds and the gapping claw marks across the vampire's chest and abdomen –the marks looked like something a tiger would inflict upon its prey, except that the shredded tendon and muscle had been left to hang and rot from the body for insects to consume rather than devoured by the beast. There was blood everywhere, except inside the vampire's body where he needed it to be. It had congealed and turned to a color purple so dark most would consider it to be black, and it lived in large puddles on the dirt ground several yards below him and saturated what remained of his pants and the wood piercing his body.

He barely had energy to lift his eyelids, never mind lifting his chin from his chest, but from his peripheral he could see the orange glow of the hilltops miles away brightening like the flame of a kerosene-laden log. As he looked, anticipating its result, the atmosphere surrounding him began to come to life, and his eyes transitioned from the crystallized sapphire blue he had been told he possessed to pure white, as though his eyeballs had rolled upward, and the vampire could no longer see the world around him or the brightening of the sun. He could feel its warmth, expecting it would grow increasingly warmer, until finally it burned him, but all he could see was a veil of white. He was blind.

"Is this death, my lord?" the vampire said.

No response.

The vampire closed his eyes. "I pray that it is," he said, just before losing consciousness.

When the vampire woke, nearly fourteen hours later, it was dark, and when he opened his eyes they were blue and he could see again – the shadows of the faraway mountains, the dead branches looming over him, the wounds ripping through his flesh, and the stakes that had caused many of those wounds.

"No," he said. "No," loud enough that the rasp in his voice spooked the raven perched on a dead limb a few feet above him.

The raven circled the tree once and returned to his spot, cawing in response.

"I'm just as disappointed as you are," the vampire said.

The raven cawed again.

The vampire was still weak, but stronger than he had been that morning. He examined the stakes bored into each of his arms. The one on the right didn't appear quite as deep as the left. With the strength he could gather, accompanied by a shout that likely scared ravens perched in trees a half mile away, the vampire yanked his right arm from the makeshift cross. His intention was to pull the stake off the cross along with his arm, but instead, the stake remained nested in the cross and his arm tore away, leaving a hole the size of a plum in his right bicep. The blood was minimal, given how depleted his system already was. The pain of it further infuriated him though, and with strength he wasn't sure he would have, the vampire pulled the stake from his left arm and from his thigh, leaving him suspended by just the large stake through his gut. With both hands, he took hold of the eight inches of wood protruding from him, then bent his knees and rested his feet on the trunk of the tree. Using the strength of his legs for leverage, the vampire pulled at the stake with his hands and pushed away from the tree with his feet, straining so hard to free himself that no sound came from his open mouth until he hit the ground, stake first, and let out a grunt as his body slammed to the dirt and the stake sailed through him like a pencil through a stick of warm butter. The Raven cawed again and took flight, hovering twenty yards above where the vampire lay.

Still on his stomach, the three-foot stake stood from his back like an empty flag post. He reached around with his left hand and took hold of the stake's base, near where his left kidney might have been back when kidneys were necessary for his survival. With one determined tug, he pulled the stake through himself the remainder of the way, this one leaving a hole the size of an apple in his torso.

The vampire lay lifeless for several minutes before rolling onto his back and looking to the sky. "Take me now, my Lord," he said, "or I will need to feed. Please."

No answer.

The vampire, feeling more mortal than he ever had as a human, labored to his feet and began to amble forward, his night vision casting a hue of red over everything that fell outside of the moon's glow. The raven took flight again and followed suit, his wing span casting uneven shadows in the moonlight as he glided past and then circled back to the vampire, waiting for him to catch up. The vampire's pace quickened as he walked, gaining momentum – his feet often tripping over one another and forcing him to jog as he would stumble forward in order to keep from landing on his knees.

Within a mile of his ungainly trek, the vampire reached a scattering of living trees, most as large as the dead elm, but lush and with enough leafy limbs to cut out the existence of the moon when he passed under them. The raven continued to track him, stopping several times on the branches of trees ahead of the vampire and waiting for him to catch up. After about a hundred yards of this, the scattering of trees became a forest, blanketed in what would be complete darkness had he been human. Instead, the objects – every tree trunk, every low-hanging branch, every rock – held a vivid red glow. The vampire could smell warm bodies, likely that of the animals living in the woods, and he hoped one would cross his path. Nothing too large or aggressive, but something bigger than a squirrel for him to feed on. A deer would have been ideal, but he arrived at the last tree before the land opened up to a verdant field having seen nothing but a few chipmunks. Not worth it.

The grass on his bare feet was soft and cool with dew as he trudged through it with no particular direction, fighting the urge to sleep in it, and encouraging himself with the idea that the next step forward might be the step that revealed a sanctuary; a place where he could feed and rest without the fear of waking again in the blinding sunlight. The pasture widened and became hilly. To the left was an upward climb, and further right the ground started to descend. The vampire continued upward, not looking forward to the climb, but hoping the top might provide him a better visual of what lie ahead. When his course became clear, the raven cawed, but the vampire ignored him, and so he cawed again.

"Shut up, bird."

Caw.

The vampire looked in the direction of the bird far to his right, circling the airspace over where the grass stopped because of the sharp downward slope. Caw.

The vampire stumbled, but recovered, then returned his attention to the hill he was walking up. The raven began flapping his wings rapidly, making a lot of noise, but maintaining his general position in the sky, then cawed loudly and repeatedly until the vampire addressed him again, at which point the raven dove toward the ground, flying just a few feet above the grass and down the hill where the vampire could not see him.

"There better be something worthwhile down there, bird, or I will drain you," the vampire said.

The vampire redirected, thumping across the hill at an awkward angle until he reached the crest of the slope the raven had traveled down. At the bottom, about two-hundred yards away, was a dirt road, and just on the other side of that was a two-story farmhouse. The home was dark, save for a glow coming from one of the second story windows. He examined the area for a moment before noticing the curvy figure of a woman pass through the glow. He could smell her and for that instant the weakness he had been enduring was a memory. Within seconds, he spanned the entire two hundred yards and was on the roof of the porch investigating the room through the panels of glass in the window. The woman had left, but the lamp on the stand beside the bed continued to burn.

Inside were just the woman and a dog. That's all he could smell anyway. Them and the raven, who sat perched on the peak of the roof above him, quietly looking down. The vampire could smell the age of the dog and its uselessness. The woman was no young pup herself. Definitely past middle-age, but not by much; the sweet metallic scent of her was still enticing enough that the idea of feeding on her dog instead wasn't worth considering, especially in his ravenous and desperate state. The woman entered the room wearing an untied nightgown that exposed the hair below her belly-button. The vampire tapped gently on the glass with his nail, knowing she would be spooked, but trying his best to minimize it. She screamed and reached for the collar of her gown before cautiously stepping toward the window to investigate.

"Is there a man of the house, ma'am?" the vampire said.

"Who is it?" she said, peering through the pane into the dim shadows of the night.

The vampire was careful to hide his fangs and he huddled his arms around his knees for help concealing the worst of his open wounds. "I'm not familiar to you. I knocked and there was no answer. I've had an accident, ma'am, and I'm desperate for help."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're desperate alright. Listen, its twelve pounds for a tumble in my bed, fifteen if you want to stay the night, and another three if you expect breakfast. You'll have to sleep in another room though, I'm expecting someone later."

"I'm not interested in relations, just something to eat."

The woman stared silently through the window before responding. "I'm a widow with a farm to maintain. I don't need to be judged by a half-naked man sitting on my roof begging for help."

The vampire could see her examining his face, her mind reconsidering the hospitality she had offered. He stared back until their eyes met. "Please just let me in. There's a chill and I've nowhere else to go."

"You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen," she said. The woman knotted her gown and unlocked the window. "You're going to have to help me push it up. It sticks."

The vampire did so, pretending to struggle with it for a few seconds before easily sliding it out of his path. The woman backed away from the window to allow room for him to climb inside, but the vampire didn't move. He held out his hand to her. "Do you mind helping me in?" he said. "I'm afraid I'll stumble through in my weakened state."

She considered his request. "You're not going to pull me out there, are you?"

"I just need you to steady me a bit, ma'am. Please, take my hand and pull me in."

She approached and extended her arm. The smell of booze wafting off her was stronger than the smell of the burning kerosene lamp beside the bed, but more than anything he could smell her blood. She took him by the hand and guided him through the opening. Once he was on his feet, standing before her, his bloodied mess of an abdomen became visible to her and she stepped away, nearly tripping in her drunken state. "Jeezus. Are you alright?" she said.

"Thanks to you I will be," he said, then before she could blink, his mouth was on her jugular and she had taken her last clean breath.

The vampire's execution was seamless; a swift tug of her hair with his right hand to wrench the head backward and expose the neck, a strong grasp of her upper arm with his left hand to support her body weight, and the piercing of her throat with all four fangs. His top and bottom right fangs nailed her jugular vein directly, sending blood streaming into his mouth, but he sucked from it for only a moment before it wasn't enough, and as the woman tried to labor a scream of terror, he drove every tooth that could reach beyond his lips into her lower throat, just beneath the cartilage of her Adam's apple, his two bottom fangs sinking into her left carotid artery and his two larger upper fangs ripping into the artery on the lower-right side of her neck. The woman gurgled out what she hoped would be a scream, but was nothing more than a faint gagging as her blood spewed into the vampire's mouth. It came so quick that he could barely swallow it, yet it still was not enough and he clenched his teeth together and ripped them away from her, taking the flesh and other parts of her throat with him. The blood pulsated at him, splashing onto his own wounds, but mostly it just poured down her bosom where he licked it from, taking a few turns past her nipples. Her breasts were firm for her age and he hoped that meant she had no children because it might help ease his guilt later.

When the river began to thin, he returned his mouth to her throat and sucked what he could from there, knowing he could drain two more women her size and still be hungry, but also wanting to stop in time to save her, a feat he had yet to master. When he saw the thump of her artery start to sputter out, he forced himself to stop and he laid her on the mattress beside them. The woman wasn't breathing, but he could feel a fait pulse in her and he hoped there was still time. He placed his right hand over the hole in her throat and his left hand on her forehead. "Leanbh. Leigheas cén bhuairt sin ort. Siúlóid arís sa grásta an Tiarna," the vampire said with a strong Gaelic tongue, then repeated it.

The vampire waited, silently compelling her to come alive, but several quiet minutes passed and the pulse he had detected in her diminished to almost nothing. The wound he had created on her throat had closed, but although he had healed her injuries, he was not able to bring her to life again.

"Please, my Lord. Let this child live. I have taken what I needed and will feed no more on her if I am able to heal her," he said.

Another several minutes and the pulse was dead, her lips and extremities already turning a light shade of purple in the glow of the lamp. The vampire scooped her upper torso off the mattress and pulled her close to him, wishing he was able to weep, wanting to sob the repentance out of his system, but all he could do is rest her lifeless head against his chest and tell her he was sorry. "I am an animal," he said.

After lowering her back onto the mattress, he stood and took hold of the kerosene lamp, removing the hot glass from it without so much as a flinch, careful not to touch its flame, then backed toward the open window before throwing it against the woman's corpse and watching the flame from the wick chase the fuel across her body, as the base of the lamp shattered and splashed the remaining kerosene against her and the mattress beneath. The vampire vaulted out the window and back onto the roof of the porch where he found the raven still waiting on the peak of the roof above. Caw. It took flight, as if saying, "Let's go," and as the vampire jumped to the ground, he heard the motor of a car approaching. He bounded toward the field just next to the farmhouse, which was adjacent to the bend in the road, and he waited for the car to approach. When it was within range, he leapt from the trees lining the dirt road, and landed in the passenger seat of the convertible Studebaker.

The driver, a man at least a few years older than the woman he had just visited, but equally as intoxicated, released the wheel as he screamed, and the vampire had to take hold of it to prevent them from veering into a large oak. Maintaining the wheel with his right hand, the vampire took hold of the man's throat with his left, squeezing just enough to prevent the man from either hyperventilating or jumping out of the vehicle as they approached the farmhouse with the burning woman inside.

With translucent eyes and a face smeared in fresh blood, the vampire faced the man and said, "I'm not going to hurt you. I need to get to the nearest port so that I might catch a boat to Rosslare."

The man nodded slightly as the car pulled in front of the farmhouse and the vampire brought it to a stop.

"And where might that port be?" he said to the man, releasing the grip on his throat.

"Pembroke. Little more than an hour's drive."

"Do you have the means?" the vampire said, gesturing his head in the direction of the engine.

"Yes." The man's voice was less shaky, and looking into the vampire's eyes he was calm and obliging.

"Drive then," the vampire said.

At the port, there were several large royal naval ships and a variety of smaller ferry-like boats docked. There was activity around and aboard the large vessels – much of it young blood, and most of it male – but the smaller boats were quiet, beyond their hours of operation. Without investigating it was difficult for the vampire to catch a scent specific to the smaller boats due to the other human activity around the dock. He had sent the man in the Studebaker on his way about a half mile from the port, the desire to feed on him almost unbearable, but given the man's age and the long drive back to his family, he refrained.

"Now go home to your wife," the vampire had said, gesturing to the man's wedding band, "and don't visit that farmhouse again."

"Okay," the man said, and did as he was instructed.

When the vampire arrived at the dock, he waited in the shadows. He needed to feed again; his wounds were showing signs of improvement, the dead organs hanging from his abdomen already drying up and falling off – he didn't need them anyway – and the flesh was regenerating around the still-open wounds, but not as fast as he needed. It was nearing ten o'clock the man in the car had told him, and the boat ride to Ireland would take him four hours. If he was able to feed and get to port by two o'clock, he might just be able to make the land journey to County Clare just before dawn.

He waited for an indication from one of the smaller boats, a sign of life, but was growing impatient. He didn't want to risk being caught while snooping around and have to start killing people unnecessarily, but it seemed that was his only option, until he saw a light from one of the boats. It was just a flash, but enough for him to see movement. He jumped into the cold ocean, barely making a splash, and swam beneath the wharf, cleansing the dried blood – his own and that of the farmhouse prostitute – and arrived at the bow of the boat undetected. When he climbed up, he attempted to do so stealthily to avoid whoever was onboard shouting and calling attention to them, but as he reached the deck, a small pool of water poured out his open gut and made a splash, as if someone had dumped a bucket of water.

"Who's there?" a man's voice said. A strong Scottish brogue, raspy, probably due to years of tobacco smoke.

The vampire sprang from the deck, gently landing on the roof of the cabin with his hands and feet. When the man inside came stepping out to investigate, the vampire reached down with one hand and took him by the throat before jumping down to meet him and carrying the man back into the cabin. The vampire saw no fear in the man's eyes. There was surprise, but not fear, and the surprise almost immediately turned to anger as the vampire slammed the man's back against the wall of the cabin. In the man's hand was a metal flashlight, which the vampire only caught sight of just as it connected with the top of his skull. This man had been in a few scuffles. The vampire tightened his chokehold and tore the light from the man's hand before he could connect a second blow.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the vampire said. "I could if I wanted." He opened his mouth to expose his fangs and saw a hint of fear on the man's face then. "I simply need a ride to Rosslare. I won't kill you, I swear to our Lord." He loosened his grip on the man's throat. "Can you take me there?"

"An Irish demon who prays to the Lord?" the man said in his thick brogue, wheezing it out as he started to cough.

"I'm not a demon, but yes."

"How do I know you won't kill me?"

"Because if I were going to, I would have already." He removed his hand from the man's throat and handed the flashlight back to him.

"Well what's in it for me?" the man said.

"Other than not dying?"

"Yea, other than that."

"I'll owe you a favor."

"Favor?" The man waved his hand and scoffed.

"Not a bad thing to hold the favor of a vampire."

The man considered this. "No, I suppose it ain't. It's a bit of a ride though."

"I'll stay up on the roof and leave you to your privacy. Time is of the essence," the vampire said, then exited the cabin and hurdled onto the roof.

The vampire slept erratically, partly because he needed to be aware of the man steering the boat to ensure he didn't purposely veer off course or try to kill him, and partly because of the hunger he felt – like a mixed feeling of dehydration and low blood-sugar in humans. When he felt the speed of the boat reducing he sat up. In the distance, about a half-mile away, he spotted the dark shores of his homeland aglow in a magnificent canopy of red. His hunger was unbearable at that point and he knew he had no chance of making the journey to Clare in the time he needed unless he fed. His wounds were also showing only minimal signs of improvement and he would need some clothes.

"I'm coming down," he said, loud enough for the man in the cabin to hear.

No response.

The vampire jumped onto the deck and entered the cabin, where he found the man sitting in his captain's chair with a metal cup of coffee in one hand while casually navigating the wheel with his other. The vampire was never a coffee drinker, but he missed drinking tea.

"Getting close," the man said without looking back at the vampire. "I love traveling the sea at night. I wish more people," the man paused, "or vampires, needed to travel at this hour."

The man was about to add something else, but the vampire was at him, fangs sunk into the man's neck, careful not to puncture an artery. The man tried to fight, but the vampire had his arms pinned back, spilling the coffee to the floor.

"Son of a bitch," the man said.

The vampire drank as much as he needed, but left enough so that the man would live. When he was done, the man sat limp in the chair, like a scarecrow propped onto a lawn chair. With what little energy the man could muster, he touched a hand to the teeth marks below his left ear.

"You son of a bitch. You gave your word."

"I promised not to kill you and I'm not going to. I'm going to heal you, but first I need you to agree to give me your shirt, pants, and shoes, and also promise not to attack me."

"Fuck you."

"I could kill you if I wanted," the vampire said.

The man had no will to argue. "There's extra in the closet behind you," he said.

The vampire turned and found a small wooden door, just two-feet wide. Inside, hanging on a bar, was a pair of slacks, a sweater, a rain jacket, and a red-striped-button down shirt. The vampire took the slacks and the button-down, as well as the boots on the floor below them. Everything was a size too small, but he was plenty used to that from his childhood. He cautiously removed a piece of parchment from the pocket of his own ratty pants and placed it in the pocket of the new pants. Fully dressed, he stood between the man and his view of the port approaching.

"We're going to hit land soon," the man said.

"I'm going to heal you and then I need you to dock us without drawing attention to me." The vampire placed his right hand over the man's wound and his left on the man's face. "Leanbh. Leigheas cén bhuairt sin ort. Siúlóid arís sa grásta an Tiarna," the vampire said once and then repeated.

The man closed his eyes and winced. His face grew flush, the color of red beets consuming his cheeks. His temperature rose to an uncomfortable level, and from between the fingers of the vampire's hand resting on the man's forehead, trails of smoke rose out. The vampire persevered though and held his hands to the man, watching tears stream from the outside corner of each eye. Within less than a minute the fever broke, the man's color returned to normal, and the smoke from the vampire's hand ceased.

When the vampire removed his hand, the palm was burned raw, but quickly began to heal and return to its normal milky tone. The man opened his eyes and sat upright in the chair. He felt for the fang marks on this neck, but there were none.

"What are you?" the man said to the vampire.

"I told you. I'm a vampire."

"Can all vampires do that? Heal the dying?"

"No. Even if they could, they wouldn't bother." The vampire motioned out the window at the impending coastline. "Getting close."

The man looked, then jumped to his feet and grabbed hold of the wheel with his left hand and kicked the engine into reverse with his right, slowing them nearly to a stop. "Jeezus," he said, looking at the docks less than twenty-five yards away, which were almost hidden in the darkness.

"I will return this favor one day," the vampire said, "whether you believe me or not," then he fled the cabin.

The man heard three gentle footsteps on the deck, then saw a flash of something airborne cross his spotlight, and the vampire was gone.

The docks were quiet and the vampire quickly moved over them and into a parking area where there were several trucks and a car parked, but no people around them. He crept around the parameter of the lot, hoping for a sign of life with access to some form of transportation. He estimated it to be about two in the morning, which gave him a little less than four hours to get to Clare before the crack of dawn. He spotted a bicycle leaning against the side of what looked to be a small storage house, but he would be faster on foot than on a bike, and the problem with both was that he would not be able to keep his stamina at full throttle the entire journey. He needed something fast and motorized if he was going to make it in time, and as he bounded onto the roof of the storage house to survey the area, he spotted it leaning against a concrete wall further down the port about fifty yards away – a motorcycle. He didn't see or smell anyone nearby and in two leaps he was on the bike and kick-starting it. He lifted the front-end by the handlebars to gauge the gas level in the tank before driving off. It had enough to take him most of the way it seemed, and that was all he needed. He took off for the road, never letting up on the throttle the entire ride to Clare.

The gas sputtered out about ten miles from where the vampire needed to be, just under four hours into his motorcycle race against time. The remaining ten miles, a distance that would take an average human over an hour to run, took the vampire less than ten minutes. When he reached the front door of his parent's cottage-style home, the first crack of dawn showed itself on the horizon and a rooster crowed from somewhere in back of the house. The smell of blood was strong as he crossed the walkway to the door – stronger than it should have been for two adults his parent's age – and he prayed the hunger he was feeling was to blame for the heightened aroma, which stung what used to be the taste buds of his tongue with a craving so strong he could practically taste the blood. He knocked on the door, waited impatiently, then knocked again eight seconds later much harder, but heard no sign of life inside the house. The rooster continued to crow and the vampire circled around to the back in hopes of finding his parent's alive and well, preparing for their morning farm work. His vision was a mix of red glare around the shadows of the large yard and barn, and a blinding white haze when his eyes made contact with the brightening atmosphere around him.

"Mom? Dad?"

No response.

He turned back to the house and found the backdoor ajar, the smell of blood seeping out from behind it. "Ma?" he said.

The vampire stood outside the door, not wanting to try entering for fear he would be allowed to without being invited, afraid there would be nothing preventing him because there were no longer any living residents.

"Dad?" he said, barely loud enough to be heard.

The raven cawed from atop the peak of the roof. The vampire pushed the door open, his arm freely extending through the doorway without opposition and he knew what he would find. His foot crossed the threshold of his parent's rear door, the first time he had entered a residence uninvited in nearly a year, and the first time in longer than that he had been in his parent's home. He walked through the kitchen, not wanting to find what he knew he would, the smell of blood growing stronger with each step. The parlor of the home was still dark when he entered it. The fresh blood glowed a deep red-on-red color in the shadows of the floor, and his father's nearly unrecognizable corpse was decorated in it as it lie torn apart at the vampire's feet. The blood trail led him to the bedroom around the corner where he knew he would find his mother. He prayed they had killed her and done nothing else – just a quick slaughter before draining her – but he knew that would not be the case, and he was right. The bedroom door was open and the morning light was beginning to creep in through the windows, but it was still dim enough for the vampire to see every detail of the scene. His mother's lifeless body lay naked, spread out across the bed. Unlike his father, most of her was intact. The vampires had only fed from two places – her throat, and the sacred area he had hoped they wouldn't – but the rest of her figure was blood free and untouched, with the exception of her finger nails, which were broken apart and stuffed with what he knew was vampire blood. She had fought hard, just as he would expect from his mother.

He walked toward the bed and sat next to her. He attempted to heal her, praying harder and longer than he ever had before, but she was too far gone, and deep down he knew the attempt was futile. He took his mother's body in his arms, as limp as a sack of potatoes. The vampire's lips curled back, exposing the entirety of his upper and lower fangs, and the crystal shimmer in his eyes was replaced with darkness. He lifted his head toward the ceiling and spoke in a deep screaming voice.

"Alulim."

# 2

Galway, Ireland, 1919 – A rock connected with the young lady's skull as she ran through the wooded area, high-stepping though the rickety landscape and holding the bottom of her late-term pregnant belly with one hand to prevent it from bouncing too violently as each foot hit the ground, while lifting the front of her ankle-length skirt with her other hand to keep from tripping. The blow caused her to see a flash of black and she nearly stumbled onto her stomach, but was able to stride through it. Though she carried an extra twenty-three pounds than she was used to, she had never run so fast in her life. Another stone hit her back, just left of the spine and below her shoulder blade. It hurt so bad it felt like something may have broken, but then the pain was gone and the adrenaline continued to pump through her. The right sleeve of her blouse was nearly torn open and most of the buttons in front were ripped off, exposing the overextended skin of her belly and the brassiere she had owned and worn almost every other day for five years.

The sky was nearing the waning hours of dusk as she reached the clearing. She was nauseas, but the cottage she was determined to reach became visible and was less than thirty yards away. She knew the people inside. She hadn't been to their home in several years, but she still saw the couple in town now and then, asking them how their son was from time to time. She wasn't sure if they could help her, and if she had more time to consider it, she likely would have felt bad about asking them for help and putting them in harm's way. Fear and instinct were driving her to this cottage.

Inside the cottage, Liam Manley sat in his rocker alongside his wife, his gaze lost in the hypnotic dancing flames of their fireplace as he toked on his pipe.

"You were right, Himself, the rain held off all day," his wife said to him, looking to the small window beside the stone hearth.

"Aye, woman. That it did."

As the man broke his concentration from the fire to glance at the window, their dog began to bark angrily from outside – a rapid nonstop yapping.

"What's got Sophie's ire up?" the woman said.

The man rose from his chair, walked to the window, and peeked through the closed curtain. "Sweet Jeezus."

"What is it, Himself?" the woman said.

There was a desperate pounding at their front door, which the man was already walking toward, as the dog continued making noise outside, its bark developing into more of a growl. The man opened the door and the young pregnant lady with the exposed stomached and blood-soaked hair fell forward. The man towered over her, and with arms thick as a gorilla's he picked her up and carried her to the small couch next to his wife, kicking the door shut as he turned.

"God Lord, Liam, that's little Fallon Murphy," his wife said.

"Aye, woman. Get a cloth and find her wounds," he said, then headed back toward their front door.

"Where are you going?"

"Can't leave Sophie out there."

"Who's out there?" she said, standing from her chair and shuffling over to the same window her husband had peered out. She spied a group of a half-dozen men jogging toward their home, and in the moonlight she recognized that some of the men were carrying branches and others were holding rocks. Shouts could be heard from them: "Get out here, bitch!" "We'll burn that fucking cottage down if we need to."

"Don't go out there, Liam." The woman said.

"Mind Fallon, I'll be but a minute," he said, taking hold of an axe resting in the corner of the room just beside the door.

Liam stepped outside, closing the door behind him. "Sophie," he said to the dog, which was several feet ahead of him, still barking, and preparing to fend off the enraged group of men. "Heal." The man's booming voice cut through the barking and the dog did as her master commanded.

The men's jog had slowed to a walk as they crossed the dirt road between the cottage and the field they had chased Fallon through.

"What is this all about?" Liam said to them.

He stood, an imposing figure, looking like a man willing to swing an axe if he needed to, and the dog beside him looked just as willing to use the fangs she was exposing.

"We've come for the Murphy girl. We're not intent on quarrelling with you, Liam," the man who led the pack said.

Liam stepped toward the men, who stopped on his front lawn just after crossing the road. Sophie followed her master's lead and they stood with no more than two yards separating them from the men.

"If you've come to do harm to a lady, a pregnant young lady no less, then you've got a quarrel with me, intended or not," Liam said.

The angry look on the man's face leading the pack turned to an expression of confusion, and he looked at the men behind him for reassurance, but the other five men were looking equally confused. Liam took the handle of his axe in both hands, preparing to use it if needed.

"I asked what this is all about. What type of men would fix on chasing after an expectant young lady like this?" Liam said.

The men looked further perplexed. A few of them, including the leader, dropped their makeshift weapons, and the others examined there's, as if wondering how they wound up their hands.

"I don't exactly know, Liam," the man in front said. I don't know why any of us are here. It's all a bit hazy."

"Well what are you then? Drunk?" Liam said.

Another man took a step forward. "We were all at the tavern having a few pints. A man in there, who I've never seen before, started talking about Fallon. Started getting us all riled up I suppose."

"What could another man say that would enrage you enough to attack a lady in this way?" Liam said.

The man considered the question and looked on the verge of tears, his voice shaky as he replied. "He was accusing her of sacrilege, questioning why Fallon won't tell anyone who the father of her child is, and asking what she's hiding and who she's protecting. Nothing we haven't heard before really. I don't know why it got us so irate."

"Then someone shouted, I just saw that filthy whore walking toward the creek, and we all went after her," the leader of the group said.

"It was as if a spell had been cast on us, I swear it, Liam"

"It was indeed. I don't understand what happened to us," the leader said.

"I understand perfectly well," Liam said. "You're all drunk and prone to emotion. A grown man comes to fight you though and it sobers you up, now doesn't it?"

"I had but one pint, I swear it," the leader said.

"Same here," the man beside him said.

"May we see Fallon to apologize, Liam?"

"The hell you will. She's in no condition to face any of you. Now get home and sleep it off."

The dog barked and the man in front jumped back, bumping the others behind him.

"Go on now," Liam said.

The men slowly began to turn and walk away.

"I'm sorry about this, Liam. I'm truly ashamed," the leader said.

Liam said nothing. He stood and watched them walk for several minutes, Sophie fidgeting against his right leg still anxious for a fight. When the men reached the gathering of trees on the other side of the field, Liam turned to the house, allowing the dog to enter with him. He found Fallon sleeping on the couch, her head resting in his wife's lap with a wet cloth across it.

"How bad are the wounds?" he said.

"Some bad bruises on her back and one good welt near the top of her head that's split. I'll have to watch her for a bit while she sleeps, but I think she'll be alright. Just a bad headache in the morning I'm sure."

"We'll have some aspirin ready then."

"What in the bloody hell happened, Liam?"

"Some of the boys had a bit too much down the pub and got each other riled up is all."

The dog lied down in front of the fire place and Liam walked over to place another log inside. "I'll head to the village tomorrow and notify Fallon's folks of what happened," he said.

"She says it's not of concern. They haven't been much worried about her since they found out she's with child."

Liam took a seat in his chair and leaned down to unlace his boots. "That's a downright shame. I'll head over there in the morning then, see if I can't talk some sense into Michael and Kay. Maybe they'll come for tea and take Fallon home with 'em."

"Could you hand me a pillow from the chair, Himself? I'll prop it under Fallon's head and make us some tea before bed."

Liam did as his wife asked and she cautiously slid herself out from under Fallon's head and replaced her lap with the pillow. Fallon stirred, but her eyes never opened.

"Could you join me in the kitchen for a moment, Himself?"

"Aye," Liam said, climbing to his feet. He knew there was something needing to be said that couldn't be done in front of the young lady on their couch.

When Liam reached the kitchen, his wife was feeding split pieces of wood into the cast iron cooking stove.

"What is it, Katie?" he said to her.

She stuffed a piece of newspaper into the stove. "Fallon says," she paused as she took a match to the stove, then turned around to face her husband. "She says," she paused again, searching for the right words.

"She says what? Out with it, woman."

She lowered her voice to an even softer whisper. "She says she's still pure. Still a virgin. She swears to the Lord on it, Liam."

Liam pulled out one of the four chairs resting against the small square table in the middle of the room and sat down in it. "That's no business of ours, Katie. She's having a rough go at it right now. Confused, scared, alone, and thinking that everyone is judging her. Which they are. We'll let her get some sleep and see how she feels in the morning after some breakfast."

Katie retrieved two mugs from the wooden cabinet and placed them on the table where Liam sat, then returned to the cabinet to get the tea.

"She's always been such a sweet girl. Seamus was always keen on her," Katie said.

"Aye, that he was. Now let's have our tea and then get to our beds."

The kettle atop the stove began to spew steam out its spout.

"Yes, Himself," Katie said, turning to get the kettle.

In the morning, Liam and Katie sat at the same table having tea along with Fallon.

"Has the aspirin helped yet, Fallon?" Katie said.

"Yessum. Thank you."

"I'm going to head into town after breakfast, Fallon. You're welcome to stay here with Katie if you like though," Liam said.

"I would like that. Thank you." Fallon looked at Katie and smiled. "Your pudding is delicious. Perhaps you can tell me your secret?"

"Of course I could."

"Okay then," Liam said, rising from his chair. "I'll be back in time for lunch, Katie."

"Alright then, Liam. Mind yourself."

The dog was lying in front of the cooking stove, hoping to be the beneficiary of any leftovers.

"Let's go, Sophie," Liam said.

The young dog scrambled to its feet and trotted behind her master to the parlor, where Liam was putting on his coat. When they stepped outside, Liam reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a pipe and some tobacco. Before he could pack the pipe though, the dog began to yelp in a fashion similar to the evening before.

"Sophie!"

Liam was about to scold the dog, which stood at the edge of the road barking at the field across the way, but when he looked he saw what had her attention. He walked toward the road, stuffing the pipe and tobacco back in his pocket, to get a better look. What he saw were six severed heads – the heads of the men who had been there the evening before. They were each impaled on their own tall stake erected in the ground. The dried blood oozing from the amputated necks stained the wooden stakes, and each of the men's expressions held a frozen, horrified look, as though they had been decapitated mid-scream.

Liam lowered himself to one knee, dizzied by the gruesome sight, and put his arm around his dog. "Sweet fucking Jeanie Mac," he said.

Liam didn't make it back to the house for lunch, nor did he make it back for dinner. Katie and Fallon cleaned the dishes, then had evening tea in the parlor by the fireplace.

"I hope he's back soon, I'm getting worried. This really isn't like my husband. The poor man must be starved half to death." Katie sat with a pistol in her lap, gripping the handle with her right hand and her cup of tea with her left.

"Perhaps he stopped at the pub for a pint and a bite to eat," Fallon said.

"Maybe lunch, but he'd never miss a home cooked dinner unless there was good call for it. Or if something were terribly wrong."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Fallon said, but then stopped and froze, listening for something.

"What is it, Fallon?"

"I hear something outside. Men talking."

They both listened for a moment. "I hear it as well," Katie said.

"It's right outside the house."

Both women placed their teacups on the floor and stood, Fallon taking hold of her stomach and Katie taking hold of the pistol in both hands.

"Do you know how to shoot that, Katie?" Fallon said.

"Shot a cow once."

The handle of the front door began to squeak. Katie raised the pistol toward it and cocked the hammer. The lock on the door clicked.

"Liam?" Katie said, so loudly that it startled Fallon.

"Yes," Liam's voice said as the door pushed open. "Seamus is with me as well."

Liam stepped in, followed by a man close to twenty years his junior, and Sophie.

"Seamus," Katie said, and went rushing over to him.

"Hello, mom." Seamus embraced his mother.

When she was done hugging her son, Katie rubbed Liam's shoulder. "I was so worried about you."

"Aye. There was some trouble in town."

"What kind of trouble? Is it because of me?" Fallon said.

"No, Fallon. But you'll be staying on with us, at least until your baby comes," Liam said.

"What is happening, Liam?" Katie said. "Are we in danger?"

"I don't know, which is why I've asked Seamus to stay on with us as well. He'll sleep on the couch and Fallon can sleep in his old bedroom."

"No, I couldn't put you out like that. Especially you, Seamus," Fallon said.

"Nonsense, it's no trouble at all," Seamus said.

"Well I should really be in touch with my parents. They may at least want to know where I'm staying."

Liam and Seamus, who had been removing their coats, each hung them on a wall hook. Liam made his way toward Fallon.

"Have a seat, Fallon," he said.

She shuffled over to the couch so that Liam could have his chair, which he took. When they both sat, Liam faced her.

"I'm sorry, Fallon, but there was an accident. Your folks were killed sometime last night."

"Liam," Katie said as she rushed to sit down on the couch next to Fallon. "What happened?"

Fallon's eyes filled up, but she didn't speak or move other than to take Katie's hand as she forced it into hers.

"The law seems to think it was some type of wild animal. Each of their throats were," Liam paused, considering Fallon's emotional state.

"Were what?" Fallon said, reassuringly.

"Devoured."

"Oh Lord," Katie said.

Seamus, who had remained by the door petting Sophie, walked over to the couch and sat on the side of Fallon opposite his mother.

"I'm sorry to say that I don't believe it," Liam said, "not after what I saw this morning. I think there's something much more evil than a hungry animal preying on this village."

"What did you see this morning?" Katie said.

"It doesn't matter now. Let's just try to put this day behind us." Liam turned his attention to his son. "Seamus, why don't you show Fallon to her room so she can lie down. I'll help your mother warm our dinner and we'll make Fallon a cup of tea." Liam stood and held out his hand to help Katie off the couch. "C'mon, woman."

They left the room while Seamus and Fallon remained seated. Fallon stared silently at the flames of the fire as they swayed atop the logs. Seamus let her take in the news his father had given for another minute before interrupting.

"My father told me what happened last night. Are you alright, Fallon?"

She turned to face him, her eyes and nostrils red, but no tears. "Some welts and bruises, but I'm doing just fine thanks to your folks."

"We should probably get you into your room for some rest."

"Seamus?"

"Yes, Fallon?"

"What do you think is happening?"

"I don't know, but whatever it is, this cottage is safe. Dad and I will see to that. Now let's get you settled. Seamus stood and helped Fallon up. He took the kerosene lamp from the mantle and guided Fallon to his old room. Once there, she remained in the hall as he went in to place the lamp on the nightstand and pull the covers down on the bed.

"I'll get a clean night shirt for you from my mother," he said as he came back into the hall.

"Thank you, Seamus." Fallon entered the room and sat on the bed as Seamus stood in the open doorway. "Can I ask you another question, Seamus?" she said.

"Aye."

"Do you believe what the people are saying about me? Do you believe that I'm a whore?"

"Absolutely not."

"I'm damaged goods though, that's for certain. "

"Any man would be lucky to have you, Fallon."

Silence fell between them and Seamus motioned to walk away.

"I'm a virgin, Seamus, I swear to it," Fallon said.

"That's not my business. Now let me go get you that shirt."

Seamus left and Fallon proceeded to untie her shoes, a ritual that had come to take more than a few minutes per shoe since entering her ninth month of her pregnancy. When she was done, she waited at the edge of the bed for her nightshirt and tea, but all she really wanted to do was lie down and cry herself to sleep, alone in the dark.

The next morning, Fallon, who was used to her father doing the morning chores and allowing her to sleep until well after five, woke early. She wanted to be up and moving after going to bed early and not sleeping well. Her baby was kicking ferociously and by four o'clock, though it was still as dark as the dark night gets, she was hoping someone would stir and she could get up and have a cup of tea.

Just before five, she thought she heard someone walk through the house, but it wasn't until she heard the kettle gently tap the burner of the stove that she knew it was safe to roam into the kitchen. There was a strong chill when she flopped the covers off of her body and slung her bare, swollen feet onto the floor. She lit the kerosene lamp on the table beside her bed using one of the matches Seamus had left for her, then used it to examine the socks lying across her shoes on the floor. She weighed the effort it would take to slip them onto her feet against the temperature of the timber floor beneath her and determined that the cold of the floor felt soothing.

When Fallon reached the kitchen, Seamus was in there alone removing teacups from the cabinet and lining them on the counter. He already had a lamp burning on the table, so she twisted hers off and placed it on the counter before sitting down.

"Morning, Seamus."

"Morning. How'd you sleep?" he said, turning to face her and leaning his backside against the counter.

"The little one wouldn't let me." Fallon rubbed her stomach.

"Aye. Well she's probably kicking to get out at this point."

"Or he."

"Yes, he or she." Seamus took the kettle from the stove, which was steaming, and poured four cups of tea. "I was planning to collect some eggs from the coop. The sun is just starting to break through. You're welcome to join me if you want to give the little one some exercise."

"Surely."

Seamus held out his hand and helped Fallon from the chair, then took the burning lamp in hand.

"Mom and dad will be up any minute and mom can fry us some eggs."

They exited the back door of the house, Fallon's feet still bare. There was a soft glow in the sky indicating that they would see the breaking of dawn at any moment, but it was still dark enough that Seamus used the lamp to guide Fallon as she walked in order to avoid tripping.

"Seamus, who's that?" Fallon said, pointing toward the chicken coop.

When Seamus looked, he saw the dark silhouette of a person – it looked like a man – standing about twenty-five yards from them. Seamus blinked and the figure was only five yards away, then, just as the sun broke through on the horizon, the thing screamed like an injured child would. It leapt at Seamus and Fallon, knocking them both over, and as quickly as Seamus could turn to look, it was gone.

Seamus jumped to his feet, still holding the lamp that had sustained its collision with the ground, prepared for another attack.

"What the hell was that?" Fallon said, her voice shaky.

"I don't know." He held out his hand to help her up. "It looked like a person, but it moved faster than a rabbit."

"It had fangs, Seamus."

"Fangs?"

"Yes, just before it knocked us down I saw a glimpse of its face."

Liam and Katie came rushing out the door.

"I heard someone yell," Liam said.

"Wasn't us," Seamus said.

"We were attacked by something," Fallon said.

Katie rushed over to her side. "Are you alright? Was it an animal?"

"It was a man," Seamus said.

"I'm telling you, that was no man, Seamus. It had fangs and it moved faster than anything I've ever seen in my life."

"Like a vampire?" Katie said.

"Sweet Jeezus, there's no such thing as vampires," Liam said, as he took the arm of Fallon that Katie wasn't holding. "Let's get you inside, dear. Have your tea and some breakfast. And if you're hurt I'll call on Doctor Fleming."

"No, I'm fine. Fell right on my rear. A few belly pains, but I don't think it's anything to be concerned with."

"Do they feel like contractions?" Katie said.

"I don't know, never had them before."

"I'll head to town just after I collect these eggs and fetch the doctor, just to be safe," Seamus said.

"I really don't think it's necessary, Seamus. It's probably just the excitement, I'm not even a full nine months yet.

"That doesn't always matter, dear. Now let's get you seated," Katie said.

Fallon took one step and grabbed her belly in pain, nearly collapsing, but Liam and Katie were able catch her, each holding one arm.

"That one hurt," she said. "I do need to sit."

"Seamus, go for Doctor Fleming, quickly," Liam said, as he bent down and lifted Fallon into his large arms, then carried her to the house.

Seamus ran to the barn and tied both of his parents' mules to their cart as quickly as he ever had hitched mules before – a halter was already strapped onto each mule's heads, but Seamus had to set the hame collars on the mules as well as their saddles and breast band harnesses, which he then had to tie to the cart. The mules were both less than ten years old and were each fairly large, one slightly more than the other. Both their backs stood more than four and a half feet from the ground and they both weighed around nine hundred pounds apiece. He would need the both of them to support the weight of him and the doctor on the ride back. He had them harnessed and ready to ride in less than fifteen minutes and he made it to the doctor's home, knowing it was too early for him to be at his office, in about twenty.

When Seamus and Doctor Fleming returned to the cottage, Liam directed the doctor to Seamus' old bedroom where Fallon was in labor. Katie had already prepared things –a bounty of cloths, a large pan of warm water, and a bottle of whiskey – and she sat at the foot of the bed, coaching Fallon to push.

"Oh thank Heavens, doctor. She's already crowning. I didn't know if this baby would wait."

"Thank you, Katie. I'll take 'er from here."

Katie remained in the room by Fallon's side while Seamus and Liam went out back to get the mules some fresh water. While they were out there, they heard random muffled screams from inside the house.

"Where do you think Fallon will go with the baby?" Seamus said.

"I've given that some thought and I'm afraid I don't know," Liam said.

"What if they came to live with me?"

Liam was silent for a few moments as he watched his son pour water into the buckets for the mules. "Might not go over well with others in the village, Seamus."

Seamus finished pouring the water and looked up at his father. "What if I were to marry her and take the child as my own?"

"Well, that's something only you can decide. Are you comfortable not knowing who the father is? My guess is that you will be for a while, but people will talk and it will eat at you, and there will come a day when you will want to know. Maybe even confront the man. And that wouldn't be good for any of you."

"She says there is no father."

Liam dug for the pipe in his pocket. "There's only been one immaculate conception, far as I know. What's the likelihood of a second right here in County Galway, Seamus? Right on our doorstep."

"Not likely, but possible."

"I appreciate your feelings for Fallon, and she's always been a lovely girl, but it's also very possible she made a mistake and is just ashamed to admit it."

Before Seamus could consider his response, a large bird came swooping around the side of the house, just inches above the heads of Seamus and Liam, then turned upward and landed on the peak of the cottage. Caw.

"What the hell kind of bird is that?" Seamus said.

"Looks like a raven. Haven't seen many of those around."

"Bit large for a raven."

The bird looked right at them. Caw. Caw.

A scream came from inside the house, the loudest yet, followed by the screech of an angry baby with undeveloped vocal chords.

"That sounds like good news," Liam said.

Katie came rushing around the house. "It's a boy," she said.

The three of them went in the house, but Liam and Seamus had to wait outside the room a bit longer while the doctor finished cleaning the baby and removing the umbilical cord, and Katie helped Fallon get cleaned up. Once they were ready, Katie called them in. Fallon was holding the baby, who squirmed and grunted gently, but mostly appeared to be sleeping.

"Well look at him," Seamus said. "Well done, Fallon."

"What'll the name be then?" Liam said.

"Will. His name is Will. It means strong-willed warrior."

"That's what Liam's name means," Katie said.

"Yes, I know. And I hope he grows up to be just like the kind man who saved his life before it even began."

"I'm honored. Thank you, Fallon." Liam said.

The doctor was rolling down his sleeves and buttoning them. "The baby will need to feed now and Fallon will need some rest, so best to give them a little privacy. Katie, have you anything for the baby to sleep in?"

"We still have Seamus' cradle in the barn, Liam. Up in the loft."

"Aye, I'll grab it." He shook the doctor's hand without another word, then left the room.

"Can you stay for a cup of tea and a scone, doctor?" Katie said

"No, but thank you, Katie. I best be getting to the office."

"I'll take you back," Seamus said.

"Thank you, Seamus."

They all thanked the doctor again as he left with Seamus.

"I'll have lunch ready for you when you return, Seamus," Katie said as they exited the house.

When Seamus returned home, nearly an hour later, he got the mules unhitched and settled back in the barn. As he walked to the back door of the cottage, he spotted the raven, still perched on the roof. The raven watched Seamus walk. Caw.

"Shut up, bird."

When Seamus entered the house, his parents were having tea at the kitchen table and his mother had a bacon sandwich waiting for him on a plate along with his own cup of tea. He ate and they talked about what a day it had been and whispered about Fallon's future. Seamus could tell by Liam's lack of commentary on the matter that his father was concerned he might mention the idea of marrying Fallon in front of Katie, but he didn't. When they were done, Fallon and the baby were still asleep, so Liam and Seamus went out to tend to the livestock and the garden. They heard the baby fuss a number of times while they were out there, but nothing bloodcurdling, so they focused on the chores and didn't bother heading in until the sun was waning and they, especially Liam, were tired and hungry. They brought with them a few potatoes and turnips for Katie to boil with their ham.

After dinner, it was full dark outside. Katie made Fallon a small plate to eat in her room, and while Fallon ate and Katie cleaned the dishes, Seamus walked around with Will, bouncing the baby gently in his arms. Liam went for his coat and pipe so he could go outside for a smoke and a walk with Sophie. Before he could open the door, there was a loud bang on the other side of the house. Liam rushed to the bedroom with Sophie trotting behind. He met Katie by the doorway and they found Fallon with a mouthful of potato and Seamus holding Will, both of them concentrating their ears on something.

"Are you okay?" Liam said.

"It came from outside," Seamus said. "Against the side of the house."

There was another bang, louder than the first, against the wall of the bedroom, then brief pounding against the backdoor. The dog began to bark and Liam shushed her.

"What is going on, Liam?" Katie said.

"Hell should I know, woman?"

There was a bang on the roof and footsteps. "Someone's on the roof," Seamus said.

More bangs came, louder and more rapidly, from all over the house – bang, bang, bang-bang-bang – on the roof, at both the front and back doors, and a few so hard against the wall of the bedroom it sounded as though the mortar outside the walls was breaking off.

"Let's go, Sophie," Liam said.

"You can't go out there, Liam," Katie said.

"The hell I can't, woman."

"I'm coming with you." Seamus handed the baby, who was starting to cry, over to his mother.

"No, Seamus," Liam said. "You stay here with the women. I've got Sophie and my rifle."

Liam went to the closet near the kitchen and took out his gun, then went to the back door. He waited for a minute and listened. There was nothing – the banging had stopped and there were no voices or audible movement. He pulled the door open and Sophie darted past him into the darkness, recommencing her barking, but as Liam stepped out after her, the dog stopped mid-bark and there was a yelp, then it was silent.

"Sophie?" Liam said, stepping outside.

Liam lifted his gun to his shoulder and aimed it into the direction of darkness Sophie had run toward. He fired once and the flash at the end of the barrel briefly illuminated the night, and before Liam could process the face of evil soaring toward the end of the gun, it was on him. Liam had shot the thing on top of him, but it was no matter, and as its sharp fangs pierced his throat, he thought, "Vampires."

Seamus heard the shot from inside the bedroom. "I'm going to see what it was."

Katie handed Will to Fallon and followed her son through the kitchen and took the lamp from the counter. The door was open and Seamus walked toward it.

"Dad?"

There was no response from his father and Seamus could see nothing beyond the door frame. As Seamus stepped toward the door, he heard the raven caw, and just as his foot began to step across the threshold into the night, the raven came swooping through the doorway and directly into Seamus' chest at full speed, knocking Seamus back and onto the floor. The raven flapped around on top of Seamus, attacking him with everything but its beak. Seamus swung at the bird as he scrambled to make it to his feet.

"Dear Lord," Katie said. She rushed to the door, and holding the lamp, she stuck her arm outside attempting to investigate the area. "Liam? Are you –"

Something took her by the arm and yanked her into the blackness.

From beyond the wings and the feathers of the crazed raven before him, Seamus saw his mother there at the door and then gone, as if pulled off her feet, and he heard her sudden silence. He grabbed the raven and flung it off of him. As he stood and stepped toward the door, a figure appeared standing above the lamp his mother had dropped on the ground when she was taken away. The lamp shone upward, casting hideous shadows on the thing's already hideous face, and it stopped Seamus dead in his tracks. It had fangs as large as a wolf's, which were dripping blood onto its already blood-soaked lips and chin. Its eyes were a crystalized blue but the whites of the eyeball were bloodshot red, and it was smiling at Seamus.

"What are you?" Seamus said.

"Give me the baby and I'll let the two out here live. Not the dog though. Dog's already dead. I have no use for those animals."

Seamus thought for a moment. Before he could answer, the thing lifted his hand, but didn't extend it past the threshold of the doorway. He looked into Seamus's confused eyes. "C'mon, mate. Just take me to the baby and you can have the grey-hairs back."

The raven fluttered off the floor toward Seamus and knocked him off balance, then flew to the door, struggling to flap its lengthy wings in the narrow kitchen, and knocked it closed.

"Open the door and let me in, or I will kill these people," the vampire said.

"They're already dead. You're not coming in here and you're not getting the baby," Seamus said.

The raven landed on the kitchen table, observing Seamus.

"You can't stay in there forever. I'll wait here until you come out, and when you do, I won't be as nice," the vampire said.

Seamus knew what the creature was. He couldn't believe he knew, or that he would even consider it, but he knew; the bloody fangs, the fact that it wouldn't enter the house even though it was just inches from an open doorway, and the fanged thing that had attacked he and Fallon that morning but had to run off when the sun broke before harming either of them. The folklore was true.

"Tell me why you want the baby and I'll consider it," Seamus said through the door.

"Just give me the child, or the people out here die."

"I want proof that they're still alive."

Silence.

Seamus turned the knob of the door. The raven cawed at him, but he raised his hand to the bird in a reassuring manner. Seamus pulled the door open and stepped back quickly, unsure of what the rules of vampires were – could they reach in and pull you out? He wasn't certain. When the vampire came into view, he stood holding Liam's severed head by the peppered hair attached to it. A knot formed in Seamus' gut, like he had been punched in the stomach, and he thought he might throw up.

The vampire spotted his emotions. "Was this daddy?"

"What do you want from us?" Seamus said.

"I want the baby, or by morning this will be you and the baby's mother," the vampire said, presenting Liam's head.

"And what if we don't come out before morning? What will you do then?"

"We'll wait."

"In the sunlight? I look forward to seeing that, it will save me the trouble of finding a way to hunt you down and kill you."

The vampire stared at Seamus, plotting his next move. The raven cawed at the creature of the night.

"You can't run from me," the vampire said to Seamus. "I'll track you down. Wherever you go."

"I'll learn your weaknesses and exploit them. We'll outrun you."

The vampire laughed and tossed the decapitated head to Seamus, who caught it on instinct, then threw it to the floor and immediately felt bad for doing so to his own father.

"You can't outrun the devil," the vampire said, and from behind the vampire a gaggle of laughter erupted.

Seamus stepped forward to close the door, but as fast as he could blink, the laughter stopped and the vampire was gone. Seamus stood at the door, holding it's knob in his hand. Before he could slam the door shut, the raven took flight and darted through, off into the night.

Seamus turned and saw Fallon standing at the entrance to the kitchen, starring in horror at Liam's petrified face on the floor. Seamus hurried over and shuffled her out of the kitchen carefully. He could see from her movement that it was painful to walk.

"Where's Will?" he said.

"In his cradle," she said, before breaking into tears. "Seamus, what is happening?"

He didn't answer until they were in the parlor and he had her seated on the couch. He sat down next to her and explained that the creature who had knocked her down that morning had indeed been a vampire and he told her how they had come for her baby.

"What do they want with Will?" she said.

"I don't know."

She sobbed harder. "This is all my fault. Look what my curse has done to your family."

Seamus stood and stared down at her. "It's certainly not your fault, Fallon. But you have to tell me right now who the father of that baby is."

Fallon only cried harder, not even attempting to respond.

"If you tell me it was a divine work, then I promise to believe you, but you must know that lying will not help me to protect your boy. I must know everything."

She continued to sob, but he could tell she was trying to speak.

"I'll give you a minute to collect yourself while I get us a drink and a tissue," Seamus said.

He left the room and when he returned he had two mugs and a jug of whiskey. He handed a handkerchief to Fallon and poured them each a drink. Fallon cleaned herself up, then they each sipped on their whiskey as Fallon explained the dream she had just nine months earlier; how in the dream her stomach was glowing, like the inside of a kerosene lamp, and there were creatures there who were kind, but were not human. They had the characteristics of a human – two arms, two legs, ten fingers – but the head was larger, as were the eyes inside of it, and they had a soft glow of light surrounding them. One of them spoke to her, but without actually speaking. She knew what it said, yet there was no voice. "This will be your son," it said, touching her stomach, "but he is the soldier for another. Protect him until it is time for him to protect others."

She told Seamus how when she woke from the dream she couldn't go back to sleep. She was exhausted, but it didn't matter, and though the dream felt it had lasted only minutes, she had been asleep for hours and it was almost morning. For days after, the dream stayed with her and felt as real as any conversation she had ever had while conscious. Then she became ill, getting sick in the mornings and unable to eat throughout most of the day. That lasted a few months before she found out about the baby inside of her.

Seamus was on his second mug of whiskey when she finished talking. It had stayed silent outside, but Seamus felt like the vampires were out there, hiding and waiting for him to drop his guard and step outside. The flames in the fireplace had dwindled to almost nothing.

"I better feed the fire," he said.

"I sound like a crazy person, don't I?" Fallon said.

"Yea, you do." He stood from the couch. "But I promised to believe you, and I do. There's something significant about that child and we've been tasked with protecting him, and that's what we'll do."

"This isn't your worry, Seamus. I've caused enough pain for you."

"The hell it isn't. My father protected you till his death, and that was his calling I suppose. I'll give you no less." Seamus walked to the fireplace and placed a log in it. "We'll stay here till sunrise and then we've got to travel light, moving as quickly as we can and as far away as we can. Are you okay to travel, Fallon?"

"Aye. We've got no choice."

"I know somewhere we can go. I'm not going to say it out loud, but it's far enough. For now, try to get some rest. That baby will need to feed soon I imagine. I'll gather what we need for the trip and we'll head out as soon as the sun breaks."

# 3

Fallon unintentionally fell asleep in her bed with the baby in her arms and got a good three hours of rest, but Seamus wasn't as fortunate. After gathering the essentials he thought they would need for their trip into a duffle bag – blankets, soda bread, aspirin, soap, canteens of water, tea, a pistol, and a handle of whiskey – it still wasn't even midnight. It had remained quiet outside, but Seamus didn't trust it. The vampires, if that's what they really were, could have terrorized him and Fallon all night and drove them crazy with fear, but they simply left them alone. Did they know something Seamus didn't? Or were they concocting a better plan? What if they set fire to the cottage to drive him out, what would he do then? These were the thoughts that kept Seamus awake, as he lay on his parent's couch gazing at the fireplace, his mind and heart racing too quickly for his body to settle into any sort of slumber. Part of him appreciated this because he wanted to be on-guard should anything happen – he had snapped his mother's wooden broom handle in two and kept the stake it produced with him on the couch in hopes that all folklore about vampires was true, because that's all he had to go on – but part of him also wanted sleep to come, knowing he would need his rest for the journey, as well as any run-ins with the vampires. He knew any type of encounter with the creatures would likely end in his own death and that idea made him want to drink, but he also knew that would leave him in even poorer shape come sunrise. All he could do was plot in his mind and pray, which he did a number of times through the night. He prayed for his parents, for Fallon's parents, and even for Sophie. He also prayed for a safe journey to his cousin's house in County Clare. It was between forty-five and fifty miles. With the mules taking them, they might be able to make it just before sundown if he walked part of the way and they kept a steady pace with only brief breaks to feed and water the mules. The idea of pushing the animals like that disturbed Seamus, but he saw no other choice.

He rose from the couch about a half hour before sunrise and put on his boots. When he got to Fallon's room the door was almost fully closed. He tapped gently and when she gave him the okay to enter, he found her feeding Will.

"We'll need to leave within the hour," Seamus said. "When the sun peeks through I'm going to get the mules hooked to the wagon and then we'll be on our way. Everything is packed, I'm just going to make some tea for us and wait for light."

"Thank you. I'll be in shortly."

Seamus turned to leave, but Fallon stopped him. "Do you think we should notify the police, Seamus?"

"No. There's not enough daylight for that and I'm sorry to say it wouldn't do much good. My dad was tougher than any other man they could send to protect us."

After their tea, Fallon got dressed and swaddled Will while Seamus went out back to prepare the mules. When Seamus reached the barn, what he saw produced an instant gag reflux. The mules, amongst other livestock, had been slaughtered – necks mangled and heads torn from carcasses. Seamus' gut wrenched and his mind raced to formulate a new plan. He had planned to take all the money his parent's had hidden under the floorboard of their bedroom closet, but he couldn't afford to use any of it on mules, nor did he have time to go to the village and negotiate anyway. He'd never stolen anything in his life; stealing was a cardinal sin in his father's eyes and Liam instilled that same belief in Seamus. Seamus considered this, but determined that the more important belief he shared with his father was that no harm should be done to women or children, and that they should be protected at any cost.

A half mile down the road was their closest neighbor, a man about ten years older than Seamus who was married, but had no children. Seamus had come to feel bad for the couple, who he heard had endured several unsuccessful pregnancies, but in the current situation Seamus was relieved in a way that they had no young ones – he would feel a little less guilty about stealing from them, especially if there was any sort of altercation and Seamus was forced to harm the man in any way. He knew the man had mules because Liam had purchased his own mules from there while Seamus was still living with his parents. Fallon and the baby would have to make the journey on foot with him and hide out by the road while Seamus stole their transportation. Having to come back to the cottage for her would be too much of a risk.

When Seamus entered the house, Fallon stood in the kitchen with Will in her arms next to the duffle bag. Seamus took the small sack of money he had left on the counter and shoved in into the bag before lifting it onto his shoulder.

"We need to do a little walking, Fallon."

"What's wrong, Seamus?"

"I'll explain on the way, we don't have time to waste."

Seamus headed for the door followed by Fallon. On his way out, he caught sight of the small cross hanging next to the doorway. He shoved it into his pocket and they were on their way.

On the neighbor's property was a barn larger than the cottage adjacent to it. Seamus left Fallon across the road along with the duffle bag, camouflaged behind a scattering of trees, while he trotted to the side of the cottage to survey the area surrounding the barn. The door of the barn was opened and Seamus suspected the neighbor had already begun his morning chores. He jogged as quietly as he was able over to the entrance of the barn and warily poked his head inside. He spotted the man from behind, hunched over a burlap sack of feed. Seamus crept up behind him, and as the man stood holding the sack of feed in his arms, Seamus wrapped his left forearm around the man's throat and squeezed it while pressing the man's head forward with his right hand and forearm. The man dropped the feed and struggled, but it only served to exhaust him more quickly. Seamus jammed his right leg between the man's legs and squeezed tighter.

"I'm sorry, Stephen," Seamus said.

The man's limbs soon jellied and when his entire body fell limp, Seamus lowered him to the floor. Seamus didn't have much of a plan beyond this, and though he was glad he didn't have to harm Stephen in order to take him down, he knew he had less than a minute before his neighbor would regain consciousness. As Seamus glanced around searching for a solution – something to tie him with, or a closet or bench to lock him in – he spotted the mules; four of them. Two of the mules were fully harnessed and those were the ones he would be taking with him, so he grabbed one of the other mules and led it toward the exit. Seamus then hoisted Stephen onto his shoulder and placed his limp body on top of the mule. After quickly locating a length of rope, which was being used as a clothesline for washcloths, Seamus wrapped it around the torsos of Stephen and the mule, and hastily knotted them together so that Michael would not come off. Seamus then led the mule outside and faced him toward the back of the yard, which was open and gave way to a large field with no visible end beyond the hills in the distance. Just as Seamus began to pull his pocket knife out, Stephen moaned and stirred. Before he had an opportunity to make sense of what was happening, Seamus jammed the knife into the rear end of the mule with force. The mule released a brief but piercing bray as it took off like a shot and galloped across the field with Stephen bracing and bouncing against its back.

Seamus surveyed the house before heading back into the barn. There was no sign of Stephen's wife, so he returned to the mules and hitched them to his neighbor's cart, which was clearly being prepared for a trip. Seamus quickly sifted through the items on the cart – mainly eggs and vegetables, likely headed to the market for sale–but the only thing he felt worth saving were carrots. The rest he carefully placed on the floor before opening the main doors of the barn and setting off for the road.

Fallon was peering out from behind the tree as Seamus reached the road. She attempted to lift the knapsack while carrying her baby, but Seamus stopped her.

"Don't bother with that," he said. "Bring Will over here and I'll help you into the cart."

She did as requested and once she was comfortably seated – as comfortable as she could be with nothing between her rear end and the wooden bench – Seamus jogged behind the tree to grab his sack of belongings. He hoisted it into the back of the carriage next to the basket of carrots, then climbed into the seat alongside Fallon and took hold of the reins. After one final inspection of Stephen's home to be sure his wife wasn't staring through the window, Seamus snapped the reins, "hiya!"

They traveled at a full trot toward the carriageway that would bring them south to County Clare, unaware for the first several miles that they had company. As they turned out onto the main roadway though, Seamus caught sight of the raven from the night before as it cut above the trees to their right and soared a few yards ahead of them before circling back and gliding along behind them.

"Did you see the size of that bird, Seamus?" Fallon said.

Seamus snapped the reins to regain the speed the mules had lost as they took the turn. "Fallon, I'd feel crazy saying this before what I'd seen last night, but I believe that bird is watching over you and Will."

"Like a guardian angel, Seamus?"

"Exactly like that, Fallon. Exactly."

The bird circled past and then back again. Caw.

Seamus was on foot, walking the tired mules, while Fallon remained on the cart feeding Will as dusk began to settle in. Fallon took notice of Seamus' frequent inspections of the sky.

"Are we close, Seamus?"

"Aye. When you're done I'll ride the mules for everything they have left. Hate to run them that hard, but we can't chance it."

The raven had stayed with them the entire trip.

"What if they find us here, Seamus?"

"Hadn't thought that far ahead. I was fearful we'd never even make it this far before nightfall."

"And what will you tell your cousin?"

"They'll have to believe that we are husband and wife and that Will is my son. They'll be offended about the wedding, but Patrick will understand if I tell him it was hastily put together due you your premarital condition." Seamus referenced the baby in her arms with eyes.

"And why are we visiting?"

"The truth. Or a version of the truth anyway. That our parents were slain and we are fearful for our own safety. Because of that, there can be no word of our visit. Once we know it's safe, I'll buy us some land and find me some work."

"And what of Will? Who will he know you as?"

"His father. No one will ever know otherwise. Not him, not anyone."

"You would do that, Seamus? You would raise this baby as your own?"

"Aye. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, Fallon."

Fallon's eyes filled up and she fought the tears from falling down her cheeks as she closed her blouse up.

"I'm afraid you'll have to hurry, we haven't much time," Seamus said.

"Ready," Fallon said, widening her eyes one last time in an effort to let the air dry them out.

Seamus climbed up beside to her, too concerned with the task at hand to take notice of the emotions she was fighting back. He took hold of the reins and snapped them with force. "Hiya!"

The mules darted down the road more quickly than he expected of them, and within minutes they were entering the village of Kildysart. Seamus had to ease the reins in order to avoid a potential collision, and also to find someone to direct him toward his cousin's cottage, which he knew was just near the center of the town. The street was lined with familiar blacksmith shops, a tailor, a shoemaker, a milliner, and sidewalk vendors selling produce and milling grain, and of course there was a tavern. As they passed, a man stumbled out of the watering hole and Seamus slowed to nearly a stop. The man was clearly inebriated, but he was at least thirty years Seamus' elder and likely knew everyone and everything in the area.

"Evening, sir. Could you point me toward the Manley home, please?" Seamus said.

"Leo Manley?"

"Aye."

"Well who's asking?"

"His cousin, Seamus. And pleased to meet you," Seamus said, as he gently tugged the front brim of his flat cap.

"Sorry to say, but Leo hasn't come 'round in a fortnight," the man said.

Seamus slowed to a full stop and took notice of the sky. They had maybe ten minutes before dusk turned to full night. "Has he taken ill then?" Seamus asked the man.

"No idea. Haven't seen him." The slur in the man's speech became more exaggerated and his voice amplified. "No one has. Hasn't come back since his last excursion."

"Is that not like my cousin?" Seamus said.

"Never gone more than a few days. We've about lost hope for 'em."

"Anyone tending to his gaff?"

"Hasn't got many crops, got no livestock. No family neither, sure you know that though."

"I'll stop by nonetheless."

"Round the corner, down the Quay Road," the man said, directing them with an unsteady finger.

"Thanks, mate." Seamus tugged his cap again.

"Aye."

Will snapped the reins. "Hiya!"

"What will we do Seamus?" Fallon said, the jolt of movement rocking her back momentarily.

"Stay at Leo's, see if he returns."

"Do you think he will?"

"No doubt lost at sea," Seamus said.

Fallon rested her hand on Seamus' knee. "I'm sorry, Seamus."

"It's God's will I suppose." Seamus gave the reins another crack after they made their turn. "Lot of that going around right now it seems."

The cottage was modest in size, but was modern and had a bathroom. Seamus wanted to tend to the mules, but he was barely able to fetch them water and find them something to eat – more carrots– before full dark set in. Fallon was holding Will in her left arm and lighting a kerosene lamp with her right hand when Seamus rushed back inside and slammed the door behind him. He went straight for the knapsack, retrieved the jug of whiskey, then went to his cousin's cabinet and removed two teacups. His hands trembled so uncontrollably that the neck of the jug knocked against the lip of each teacup as he poured, and it made the sound of a handbell.

"Are you alright, Seamus?" Fallon said.

"I think the day is just catching up with me." Seamus took one of the mugs between his two hands to control the shaking and he drank it down in two mouthfuls, then refilled it and handed the other mug to Fallon.

"I'm exhausted too I suppose," he said.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Fallon said.

"Not a wink, but I have no regrets about that. We made it here safe. If we were followed, I'm sure we'll know before long."

Fallon swallowed her mug of whiskey. "What if they find us, Seamus? What are we to do next?"

"Let's just hope they haven't."

Fallon handed her mug over to Seamus, who sat at the table, readying to pour another serving for himself.

"Do you think my baby is cursed?" Fallon said.

"Not cursed, but maybe the opposite of that."

"Like special in some way?"

"I have to imagine that raven is serving a purpose. It saved my life last night and has followed us all the way here."

"Is it still outside?"

"Perched on the roof, just as it was at my parent's home."

Fallon shifted the baby in her arms. "One last question, Seamus."

"Aye."

"If the creatures don't come. Where will we go next?"

"Stay here I suppose. Wait for Leo. If Leo is truly gone, I'll stake claim to his land. His parents are dead and he has no siblings. Either way, I'll look for work tomorrow and I'll tend to whatever crops he has. One hour at a time though, Fallon. One hour at a time for now."

# 4

Seamus woke from the couch just after midnight. It was a noise at the door that woke him. The rear entrance. Someone was trying to access it. Seamus rose quietly and took hold of the pistol he kept beside him. As he reached the door, he could hear the voices of men, at least two of them. They were cursing at one another. "It can't be fucking locked," one of them said. "Well it is, so slag off," the other responded.

They were silent for a moment and Seamus hoped whoever it was might just go away. Then one of them said, "We'll have to go in through the window," and Seamus had no choice but to open the door. It was dark, both inside and out, so Seamus led with the gun as he opened the door, and he made his weapon known.

"I have a pistol aimed right at you. Tell me who goes there."

"Who the fuck is this?" one of the men said.

"I'm kin to the owner of this house. Now who are you?" Seamus said.

"We're mates of Leo. He allows us to stay here when we've had more than our fill at the pub down the road. Leaves the door unlocked for us and we tend to his vegetables in the morning," the less inebriated sounding one said.

"May we come in?" the other, more obnoxious one said.

"I'm sorry, I have to turn you away. I've got my wife and our infant son inside."

"Well we won't be of no bother to 'em."

"I'll have to know better before I make that judgment, sir. I'm sorry."

"Oh bollocks," the drunker one said loudly, and Seamus heard Will begin to fuss from the bedroom.

"Now you've woken up the boy," Seamus said.

"I'm sorry about my friend. Do you have any word from Leo?"

"I'm afraid not, so we'll be staying on for a while. Can I find you at the pub tomorrow?"

"Aye. Just before dinner time."

"I'll buy you both a pint for the trouble then," Seamus said.

"Fat load a good it does me for the walk home to my miserable wife right now," the drunker one said.

"Good night then," Seamus said, and shut the door.

The next morning Seamus woke to the sound of Will's hungry screams. He had slept in spurts throughout the night. Just after speaking with the two drunk men, Seamus had walked into the spare bedroom next to the room Fallon was in and fell asleep within moments of resting his head on the pillow. He slept soundly for well over an hour before waking in a panic, afraid he might have missed something while off-guard. He checked on Fallon and the baby, who were sleeping soundly, and there were no signs of disturbance outside the house. He returned to the bed and again fell quickly to sleep, a deep sleep that lasted more than two hours that time, until he was woken by the baby and was promptly assured by Fallon that all was well. His next three hours of slumber brought him to daylight. He got up and went straight to Fallon's room, tapping gently on the door.

"Everything alright?" he said.

"He's just hungry and wet is all."

"Would you like some tea?"

"Love some, thanks."

After preparing their tea and drinking just a few sips of his own, Seamus stepped outside to tend to the mules, relieved to find them alive and well, but overcome with guilt seeing them unable to comfortably rest while still hitched to the wagon. His cousin had no barn and the best Seamus could do was tie them to a tree, providing ample rope for them to roam a bit and comfortably lie down. Once they were settled with water and the last of the carrots, Seamus inspected his cousin's meek supply of crops. He was able to harvest one onion and a few small potatoes, debating whether it would be best to boil them together or cut them up and fry them in some butter like his mother would do some mornings, but he concluded that frying them wouldn't be the same without some eggs cooked up alongside them. Just as this thought crossed his mind, he heard the bustling of chickens in the distance, likely coming from a neighbor's farm down the road. Seamus returned to the house where he spotted Fallon's tea growing cold.

"Fallon, I need to speak with one of the neighbors for a minute," he said, loud enough for it to carry through to house. "I'll make you a fresh cup of tea and some breakfast when I return."

"Everything okay?" she said.

"Yup. Be back in a moment."

Seamus gathered some of his money and headed down the road.

As he walked, focusing on following the sounds of the chickens, he realized he hadn't spotted the raven yet. He paused and looked back toward his cousin's house, scanning the rooftop and then surveying the sky above him, but there was no sign of the bird. He carried on down the road in search of the eggs, part of him missing the bird that likely saved his life, but part of him hopeful that the bird's absence was an indication that they were safe and no longer needed its guardianship.

Seamus located the home of the chicken farmer about a quarter mile down the road and purchased four eggs, along with a loaf of bread and a jar of butter, from an older couple who knew of his cousin, but were not overly familiar with him. Shortly after returning to the house, Seamus cooked up breakfast, which turned out to be more like brunch by the time he finished chopping the potatoes and the onion and frying them until they were tender. After cleaning up, the two of them began to settle into the home. They didn't have much to unpack, but they fashioned a bassinet for Will out of a large fishing basket, which luckily did not smell of anything resembling fish, and some spare linens, then took inventory of what they would need to live for a few weeks while Seamus found work. Once that was complete, Fallon retreated to the bedroom to feed Will, and Seamus headed for the pub. It was only three o'clock and Seamus hoped the men from the evening before would be there early because he wanted to be sure he was back before sundown.

Preferring to let the Mules continue resting, Seamus walked into town and arrived at the pub in about twenty minutes. Seeing no sign of the visitors from the previous night, he stood at the bar where he had a clear view of the clock on the wall behind it, and he ordered a pint. It was quiet and there seemed to be more activity coming from the apartment above them than there was in the pub itself. Two other men stood several feet from him, holding pints and smoking cigarettes, but not saying a word. At one of the tables sat an elderly couple, also barely speaking.

"Don't worry, it'll pick up in the next few minutes," the barkeep said, taking notice of Seamus surveying the room. "All the boys'll be getting off the clock."

"I'm just looking for some mates of my cousin, Leo Manley."

"Aye. I take it there isn't any good news on Leo then."

"None to speak of it seems. I'll be staying on at his place in the meantime." Seamus extended his hand, "Seamus."

The barkeep took the hand and gave it one shake. "I'm guessing its Jack and Timmy you're looking for."

"Not sure. They showed up at Leo's late last night looking for beds."

"That'd be them. Don't worry," he said, glancing up at the clock behind him, "they'll be in before you finish that pint."

As the barkeep walked away, the two men entered the pub. Seamus considered whether they would even remember him, drunk as they had been when he last saw them and considering how dark it had been. Before he could rethink approaching them, the drunker one spotted him.

"Well if it ain't Leo's cousin, the most hospitable man this side of Ireland," the man said.

Seamus waited for them to approach the bar before responding. When they got within a few feet, Seamus extended his hand. "The name's Seamus." The drunker man took his hand." Have a pint on me for the trouble," Seamus said.

The barkeep was already pouring the two glasses.

"Don't mind Jack here, he gets cranky when he's sober," the other man said, taking Seamus' hand. "Timothy Sullivan," he said. "Everyone 'round here calls me Timmy."

Jack took hold of the first pint and swallowed down what he could before needing to stop for air. "You'd be cranky too if you had my wife preaching to you about dying from the drink whenever you walk in the door after a few pints," he said.

Timmy took hold of his pint as the bartender slid it across to him. "Jack here thinks his wife is a witch."

"Not a witch," Jack quickly responded. "Knock it off with that shit."

"I'm sorry," Timmy said. "He believes her to be clairvoyant. Like there's a fucking difference."

Jack was sucking down what he could swallow from his glass again and took a moment to reply. "There's a big fucking difference. Witches cast spells and are nothing more than children's fairytales. Clairvoyants see what we regular folks can't in the world."

"Such as?" Timmy said.

"I'm not playing this game with you again, you prick."

"Humor our new friend Seamus here."

Jack looked Seamus in the eye. "Such as death and spirits," he said. "That's what she calls 'em anyway. Spirits." Jack took back the rest of his pint and knocked it down on the bar, motioning with his head to the bartender, who was wiping down some glasses and smiling as he listened to the conversion.

Seamus looked to Timmy, who smiled and winked. "About three months ago, Jack came home pissed and she told him she saw the angel of death standing with him as he stepped through the door. She's told him the same thing ever since whenever he returns home with too many pints in him."

"Maybe she's just trying to scare you off the drink," Seamus said.

Jack, leaning on top of the bar as he impatiently waited for his second pint, turned back to Seamus. "Well its fucking working then, ain't it?"

Timmy burst out in laughter. "Oh I certainly wouldn't say that."

Jack took his glass as it was placed back down on the bar and retreated to one of the small wooden tables in the corner of the pub.

Timmy lifted his glass in front of Seamus face. "To Leo," he said. "Who I pray we have not seen the last of."

"To Leo," Seamus said, and tapped the edge of Timmy's glass with his own.

The two men drank and Seamus waited a minute for the emotion of the moment to dissipate before addressing what he really came for. "Timmy," he said, "I plan to stay on for a while and was wondering who I might talk to about getting some work."

"What's your skill?"

"Blacksmith by trade, but I'm willing to do any type of labor. Have some carpentry skill as well."

"Wouldn't you know it, Jack there is a blacksmith. You might want to let 'em warm up to you a bit before asking about work though." Timmy laughed.

"And how might you suggest I do that then?" Seamus said.

"Food and drink, of course. Maybe have him and the missus over for a meal. Be happy to join you myself if it'd make the mood more comfortable."

"If that's what it'll take," Seamus said.

Before they could even work out the details, Timmy shouted over to Jack in the corner. "Hey Jack. Seamus here came to invite us to dinner tomorrow at Leo's place. The wives too."

Jack simply lifted his glass, no smile, and nodded his head.

Timmy looked back at Seamus, "It's settled then."

"Fair enough," Seamus said, and they clinked glasses before downing the remainder of their pints. Seamus placed his empty glass on the bar and looked to the clock.

"Time for one more?" Timmy said. "This rounds on me."

"Well in that case," Seamus said.

It was two more pints that Seamus stayed for after they joined Jack at the table in the corner and Timmy forced Jack to buy a third round. By the time Seamus stepped outside, dusk had set in. He tried to gauge the amount of light left in the sky and thought that if he walked briskly, along with a few spurts of jogging mixed in perhaps, he could make it back to the house in fifteen minutes, which was about as much time as he probably had before complete dark set in. It was along this walk that Seamus first had a chance to consider what he had seen back at his parent's home, to try and make sense of the idea that vampires actually existed. He had given some thought to it the evening before they left, but most of that sleepless night his thoughts had been monopolized by the general fear of what might come next and planning their escape, considering every detail and every item they might need for the journey. Then on the journey to Leo's the focus had been on making good time, tending to the mules, and caring for Fallon and Will's comfort and well-being. The arrival at Leo's was consumed with relief and exhaustion, not even wanting to think about what they had escaped, just being thankful they made it and wanting to sleep.

This night though, alone in the fading moments of the day with the fear of the devils of the night overwhelming his thoughts, Seamus was confronted with the reality of it. Vampires. Could it have been a hoax? Could someone in his own village, someone with enough distain for what Fallon had done, have enough evil in them and have the necessary resources at their disposal to pull off such an elaborate scheme in order to punish Fallon for the sin they felt she committed, along with his family for harboring such a person? But what about the other deaths – Fallon's parents, and the men his father had described to him, beheaded and displayed on wooden stakes. The thought of the image as his father had described it to him made Seamus hurry into a jog. The trees lining the road ahead were morphing into dark shadows of tree-like shapes as the horizon darkened.

Even if those same vampires hadn't followed them here, he thought, how many were there in the world? Did any reside in County Clare, and if so, were they all part of one big union? Could they communicate between counties and have search parties out looking for Will? Perhaps he was wasting his time looking for work and trying to settle in at his cousin's. Maybe Fallon had been right, perhaps they should have gone to the authorities back home.

Only a few minutes of dusk remained and Seamus had at least that much walking left. He wanted to break into a full-on sprint, but didn't want to be gasping for air when he returned to the house, creating panic for Fallon. He trotted along, looking for signs of other people, but there was no one. Everyone was either at home preparing for family dinner or at the pub avoiding it. Seamus surveyed the landscape around him, wondering where the vampires hid during the day, and how they might find him once it was safe to come out into the night. There was so much he didn't know or understand, and that unknown scared him more than anything.

It was dark and he could see the smoke from Leo's chimney just up the road. Seamus tried to convince himself there was still a hint of light in the sky, a touch of dusk remaining, just enough to get him to the door safely, but it was a false sense of security. It was dark, dark as night gets when the moon is nearly full, and so he ran. As he ran, Seamus heard every noise within reach – every branch rustling in the wind, every sheepdog barking in the distance, every noise that he interpreted as a disturbance in nature that indicated something might be approaching. He stopped looking around because it was slowing him down, and he just focused on the door, no more than forty yards away, and ran as hard as he could, like he hadn't run since he was just a boy sprinting into the village to run small errands for his parents.

His hand landed on the door handle just as a wolf howled in the distance. The sound of it, for no sensible reason relating to vampires, sent a chill of panic down his back and he frantically toyed with the handle, trying to open the door, which was locked, as he had instructed Fallon to do. He pounded on the wooden door, not wanting to sound crazed, but unable to control it.

"Fallon? Fallon, open up."

Within a moment he could hear her, toying with the lock, and as soon as the toying stopped he pushed the door open, nearly knocking Fallon over, then slammed it hard behind him before trying to control his jittery hands enough to lock it again.

"Seamus? What's happened?" Fallon said.

He walked to the closest chair and sat, rocking back and forth as he labored to catch his breath. "I'm sorry, Fallon," is all he was able to say for about two minutes.

Fallon poured him a mug of whiskey and he drank it down like it was a cup of water. Shortly after that he was finally able to speak.

"There's nothing wrong. Just let my imagination get the better of me, I'm sorry to say." He removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm not feeling like much of a man right now. More like a scared little boy."

"Don't be ridiculous," Fallon said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Any man in his right mind would have been just as worried if they'd seen what you have, Seamus."

For a few minutes there was only the sound of Seamus still catching his breath as Fallon continued to stand over him, still touching his shoulder.

"Do you think we should take it as a positive sign that you were able to make it back safely in the dark?" Fallon finally said.

"I don't know, Fallon. I don't know much of anything when it comes to those creatures. What I can tell you is that I don't want to live in fear like this. I don't know where we'll be safest or whether we'll ever be any safer than we are right here, right now, but this is the only hope we've got, so let's just pray that we've made the right decision and do our best to build ourselves a life here until we have reason to believe otherwise. Live or die, this is the last night I'll be running down that road like a scared child."

# 5

The following morning, after cooking breakfast, Seamus took what looked to be the younger and stronger of the two mules and headed to the market to pick up supplies for their dinner party. A simple boiled dinner with sausage as the meat of choice was on the menu. They needed to be conservative with their supply of money until Seamus was sure he would have work, and there was no confirmation that the wives of Jack and Timmy had agreed to the occasion, though Seamus was sure Jack and Timmy would come with or without their wives. He did hope the ladies would make it though; Fallon had been very excited by the idea of it all. At first, Seamus assumed it was for similar reasons to his own excitement – the general feeling of normalcy that comes with sharing stories and laughter with peers over food and drinks – and that was surely part of it for Fallon, but Seamus came to realize that it was likely more than just that. For more than half a year, she had been living as an outsider from everyone, including her own family. There was no place she could go without being judged and made to feel unwanted. She had even taken to skipping church on Sundays, which only proved to fuel the judgment of sacrilege thrown her way. When she did attend mass, however, there was no place in the county she felt more judged and unwanted, so it had been a no-win situation for her. Now she was in a new county where her neighbors would simply know her as Fallon Manley, wife of Seamus Manley, and mother of Will Manley, where she could host a dinner party and just be another adult sitting at the table, no better than anyone else, no worse than any one either. He was happy for Fallon and wanted her to have that moment.

Fallon stayed behind and washed herself up after breakfast, then tidied up the house before putting Will down for a nap and going into the yard to look for some wild flowers she might be able to use for the table setting that evening. Leo's house was cleaner than she might have expected the home of a bachelor to be, especially one who allowed his drunken mates to crash there whenever they liked, but it still lacked a woman's touch. She didn't want to overdo it and make it look like she was taking over – she didn't need Leo's friends thinking she and Seamus had already buried Leo in their minds – but a simple vase of some nice wild flowers would do perfectly , adding some color to the dull kitchen and a subtle flowery aroma to compliment the cooking. She walked the field behind the house, careful to stay close enough incase Will woke, and gathered one small handful of purple loosestrife flowers and another of yellow daises.

When Fallon returned to the house, all was silent at first, save for the sound of her own gentle footsteps on the floorboards as she walked to the kitchen. She rested the flowers on the kitchen table and had begun searching one of the cabinets for a vase or vase-like object to accommodate them when she heard the whisper. It was so soft she couldn't make out the dialogue and it sounded unlike any type of whisper she had ever heard – like the words were a gentle breeze formed from within another room of the house, blowing through the kitchen. The dialect sounded foreign to her, perhaps Latin, but then she recognized it. The words faintly floated past her, causing a chill through every limb. It was Gaelic. The pattern of it sounded almost like a spell or a prayer being quietly chanted from somewhere in the house. Fallon broke free of the chill that held her frozen in front of the cabinet and she realized that the whisper was traveling from the direction of Will's room. She ran as fast as she could, feeling as though she were running through mud and couldn't get there fast enough, the chill of the whispers tingling every limb as they continued to float past her. The door was just as she had left it, open an inch or two. She shoved it open all the way with no concern for waking the child.

Will lay there, in the makeshift bassinet, wide awake, but not making a sound. His attention was focused on something toward the corner of the room, which was bare and too far away for an infant as young as him to clearly see. Fallon took a step toward him and heard the whisper again, as if the words were being spoken directly into her ear.

"Bealtaine Críost agus a Naoimh seasamh idir tú féin agus díobháil," it said, then repeated it. "Bealtaine Críost agus a Naoimh seasamh idir tú féin agus díobháil."

She understood enough to know that it was a prayer asking for God and the saints to keep the child from harm. Fallon didn't try to disturb the moment any further and the voice continued.

"Mary agus a mac."

Mary and her son, Fallon understood.

"Pádraig lena foirne."

Patrick with his staff.

"Martin lena maintlín."

Martin with his mantle.

"Bríd lena veil."

Brigid with her veil.

"Michael lena sciath."

Michael with his shield.

"Agus Dia thar gach le lámh láidir dheis."

And God over all with a strong right hand, was the last of it Fallon could decipher. There was a whisper after that, which Fallon was unsure of, and then it was gone. Will's attention diverted and he was suddenly squirming and blinking his eyes in every direction, a typical child in need of a clean swaddle and a feeding. Fallon took him up in her arms, a mist forming in her eyes. She kissed him on his forehead.

"I may not have the strength of our Lord, but I pledge to watch over you as well as I am able, even if it means my own death," she said to her son.

Seamus returned around mid-afternoon. Fallon had decided that if she was going to tell him about what she had experienced, it certainly was not going to be just before their dinner party. She knew how important it must have been for him to feel regular again and she didn't want to steal that from him after all he had gone through for her and Will.

They began on prepping the carrots and potatoes immediately and getting the water boiled.

"What time will they be here?" Fallon said.

"Sometime between five and six o'clock, depends how many pints Timmy and Jack fit in at the pub I imagine." Seamus had just started to prep the carrots when he recalled the advice his mother had often given him about flattering a lady. He looked up at Fallon and waited for her to notice him looking.

"You look lovely, Fallon."

Her cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink than usual and she smiled nervously. "Thank you, Seamus."

Timmy and his wife, Nora, arrived at about quarter to five. They had a twelve year old son and a nine year old daughter, which they left home after feeding them an early dinner. Jack and his wife, Aisling, arrived about ten minutes after. The timing was ideal because Will had just gone down for a rest, so Seamus was able to let Fallon sit with their guests and have a cup of whiskey while he tended to the pot of food. The first few minutes were spent on small talk and general pleasantries, until Nora opened up the conversation by asking Fallon what had brought them to Kildysart. Fallon and Seamus had talked about how best to answer that question and so Fallon answered it without hesitation.

"My parents are no longer with us, and I 'm sorry to say that both Seamus' ma and da recently passed. Didn't leave us with much family in the area, so we thought we'd come visit Leo and see about making a fresh start here. Seamus wasn't getting much work there anyway. He's a blacksmith by trade."

Timmy interjected on behalf of his new friend, playing it off as though he and Seamus hadn't exchanged a word about it. "Ah, another blacksmith. Jack here is a blacksmith as well. Ain't that right, Jack? Maybe you can see about getting Seamus here some work at the shop."

"Not sure how possible that'd be," Jack said, then he noticed the look of defeat on Fallon's face and tried to backpedal. "Certainly I can check though, talk to the boss."

Jack pushed his empty cup toward Timmy, who sat by the jug of whiskey, in want of a refill.

Timmy obliged and Aisling jabbed Jack in the ribs.

"Go easy there, Jackie. You promised."

"Don't worry, I'll absorb it all with this generous meal. Smells divine, Fallon," Jack said, lifting his cup in Fallon's direction after receiving it back from Timmy.

"How are you finding the house, Fallon?" Aisling said.

"Lovely, but a little odd. I'm expecting Leo to walk through the door at any moment."

"If only," Timmy said, raising his glass.

Everyone else at the table followed suit, accompanied by a round of "Aye" in unison, including Seamus, who was at work fishing the last of the sausages out of the hot pot of water.

"How old is your little one?" Aisling said to Fallon.

"Less than a week."

"Quite a journey to take with such a young'un."

"Yes, but Seamus and I figured that if we got settled back home, got comfortable with a routine, we'd just never leave. Do you have any children?" she asked, trying to pivot the conversation.

Timmy immediately gave his wife a gentle rub on the back and Fallon knew she had broached a sensitive topic.

"No," Aisling said. "Haven't had much luck in that department."

"I'm truly sorry," Fallon said.

"May not be meant for me is all. You know what they say, the Lord never gives you any more than you can handle."

Seamus turned from the stove upon hearing the words, and he and Fallon looked at each other as if on cue, both considering the deep meaning in the phrase.

"I'm anxious to meet your son though," Aisling said. "I just love the smell of 'em when they're this young."

"Well, I'm sure he'll be stirring soon enough."

"Here we go," Seamus said, carrying over a large bowl of steaming potatoes, carrots, and turnip and placing it in the middle of the table, next to the vase of flowers. He then moved the vase onto the counter to make room for the next bowl. "Sausage and onions are right here," he said, taking the second bowl and placing it down on the table.

"This is grand, thank you," Nora said.

Seamus located the serving spoons and retrieved the butter before sitting.

"I think you've earned a drink," Timmy said, filling Seamus' cup. Timmy then took hold of his own drink and lifted it toward the sky again. "I'm sorry it's at the expense of dear Leo, but here's to new friends and neighbors. Glad to have you here with us in Kildysart."

The entire table lifted their cups as well and knocked them against one another.

Fallon was still working on her plate when Will began to fuss. She started to rise, but Seamus put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'll grab him."

"Bring him here to me," Aisling said. "I've cleaned my plate and I'd love to rock the young lad."

"I'm sure he needs a change," Fallon said.

"I'm sorry to say, that's one task I've yet to learn," "Seamus said.

Aisling brushed the words away with her hand. "He'll be just fine while mum finishes her dinner. Bring him here."

Seamus obliged and went to the bedroom. When Seamus returned to the kitchen, he paused to present the baby to the group before walking over to Aisling. "Everyone, this is Will."

Aisling took a moment to push herself away from the table and straighten out her dress, while the rest of the table fawned over the baby, saying things like, "What a handsome young lad," "So precious," and "He's got daddy's nose," which made Seamus and Fallon smile knowingly at each other. Aisling looked up just as Seamus stepped toward her and her tooth-filled grin immediately transformed into a gaping look of horror.

"Oh sweet Holy Father of mercy," she said.

"What is it?" Fallon said, jumping from her chair to examine Will.

"She sees something," Jack said.

"Oh bollocks," Timmy said, dropping his napkin onto his plate, "here we go."

Aisling's look transformed to something more like wonder as she slid off of her chair and onto her knees, as if worshipping the child, and made the sign of the cross from forehead to chest, left shoulder to right shoulder.

Jack placed his hand on her shoulder. "What is it, Aisling? What do you see?"

"The fog of three whiskeys I imagine," Timmy said, prompting a backhand across his shoulder from Nora.

Fallon snatched Will away from Seamus, who was frozen by the uncertainly of the moment, and she retreated with Will to the bedroom.

"What the hell do you see?" Seamus said to Aisling. "You have to tell me."

Aisling's eyes followed the path Fallon had taken out of the room, as if delayed in watching her leave with the baby. "Good-bye," she said in a hushed voice.

"What is it, love?" Jack said, helping his wife off the ground and back into her chair.

"Pour the poor woman some whiskey," Nora said to Timmy.

"Aye, because that's just want she needs," he said.

"Enough with the smart mouth and just do it," she said with another backhand.

Timmy complied and Jack took hold of her cup before kneeling down next to Aisling and handing it to her. "What did you see, love?"

She had tears glistening in her eyes. "It was a being not of this world. It was celestial-like. The baby's guardian angel, only not like I'd imagined an angel would be."

"I thought you only ever saw death and evil and such," Jack said. "Banshees and the like."

"I've never seen anything like this, I'm sure of that."

"Describe it, Aisling. Please," Seamus said, taking a chair at the table.

"It was slender and its head was large. It smiled at me, but without smiling exactly. It was a look of peace."

"Did it look like an angel? Wings and all?" Jack said.

"It didn't have wings. It had the physique of a human, but it was so different. Stood almost as tall as Seamus, with large dark eyes that I think should have been frightening, but they were so calming. It didn't have facial features like us either. No nose, or lips, or ears even. Not that I could tell. And it had a glow about it, like it was radiating light." Aisling paused, staring off at nothing.

"I best check on them," Seamus said, rising from the table.

Aisling broke from her daze and looked up at Seamus. "That child is blessed Seamus. There is something special about that boy. The angel didn't say it, but I knew when he looked at me. He wanted me to know it, and he wants you and Fallon to know it as well."

Seamus nodded and turned to leave the kitchen.

When he arrived in the bedroom he found Fallon sitting on the bed crying while rocking Will in her arms.

"Why is this happening?" she said.

"Like Aisling said, the Lord never gives you any more than you can handle. Guess He handpicked you as the woman he felt is most up to the task."

"The task of what, Seamus? What is it all for? And what are we supposed to do with Will while we wait to find out?"

Seamus knelt down beside the bed and rested one hand on Fallon's arm and the other on her knee. "Raise him. We'll raise him to be a good man and give him as normal a life as we are able until we find out it's time to do otherwise. That's all we can do."

Fallon cried harder. "I'd be lost without you, Seamus Manley. That's about all I know at this point."

# 6

The dinner guests had left the house while Seamus and Fallon were in the bedroom, and it would be the last time Seamus and Fallon would see Jack alive. Seamus returned to the pub the afternoon following the party when he heard the news. Much to the chagrin of their wives, Timmy and Jack stopped into the pub after leaving the dinner party for a few nightcaps. They did their best to convince Nora and Aisling to join them, but both were tired and feeling a bit shaken after the incident with Will. Timmy and Jack closed the pub and both women were asleep when they returned home. Aisling was awoken a few hours later by what she described as "the wail of the banshee" standing over Jack's side of the bed. He was seizing when Aisling turned to him and before she could jump out of bed to run for help, he stopped, as did his breathing. She had reported seeing the same banshee just before she miscarried each of their three children, referring to it as "the vision of a lady angel, but with face of a corpse, and a cry that could shatter crystal."

Aisling was unnerved, but she collected herself, getting dressed and making the ten minute walk to the home of Timmy and Nora. Nora was alarmed at first to find Aisling knocking at their door so early and with such horrific news, but Aisling had warned her it would happen, so Nora wasn't entirely shocked.

"One of these days you're going to find me at your door freshly widowed," Aisling had said when telling Nora how much Jack's drinking had increased since the last miscarriage and how she saw the banshee stalking him every time he returned home falling down drunk.

Seamus felt a great sense of guilt over the benefit Jack's death provided him, but Timmy went out of his way to introduce him to Jack's employer – a man named Ethan Barry – who immediately offered to take Seamus on for a trial period, and then full time to replace Jack if he was impressed by Seamus' work. Seamus and Fallon were running out of money and he had no choice but to accept the offer. It helped when Aisling told him that "Jack would have wanted it this way had it been his decision."

In a way, it worked out well for Aisling once Seamus started the job. She spent a lot of time with Fallon in the months after Jack's death, helping out with Will and keeping her mind occupied, and she even prepared dinner for them most nights. Fallon felt guilty, but Aisling was insistent that she welcomed the distraction, and so it became a bit of a routine, with Timmy and Nora often joining them. Once the estate was settled and Seamus and Fallon took over ownership of Leo's home, they began paying Aisling a stipend for helping out with the housework and tending to the crops, which Seamus had begun planting and harvesting a lot more of. Aisling tried to refuse the money at first, but Jack hadn't left her much, and Seamus reminded her that she would need to go out and get work elsewhere to pay her own expenses if she didn't let them pay her to work for them. She remained with the family throughout Will's youth and was known to Will as "Aunt Aisling," or sometimes just "Auntie." Will's guardian, who Aisling said was "sometimes there and sometimes not," became known as Eamon, which meant just that – guardian. Aisling would talk at him from time to time, she even tried asking him about Jack once, but he never responded verbally and often times simply stood watching Will as if Aisling didn't exist.

Life existed this way for them for more than a decade – as normal a life possible, just as Seamus had said – until just a few days before Will's twelfth birthday when he was out in the street playing a version of cricket with some other kids in the neighborhood. Will and his friends would often use the gas street lamp in their neighborhood as the wicket and they had fashioned a bat using a broken wooden oar they had found by the water. The handle was snapped in half, making it a fairly ideal length. It wasn't a clean break, so the bottom of the handle was ragged with thick splinters that had dulled a bit from the abuse the bat endured, but they were still pointed enough to cause harm if the boys weren't cautious.

It was midafternoon on a warm day toward the tail end of summer and Will, who was developing into a great all-rounder due to his talent at both the batsman and bowler positions, was bowling to one of the older and stronger boys in the group when the accident happened. Will hurled the ball at the wicket with everything he had, taking special enjoyment whenever he was able to beat out the older boys. This boy, Kevin O'Donnell, was especially prideful and swung at the ball with all the velocity he could muster, letting out a loud grunt in the process. His arms came around his torso so quickly that he had to snap his wrists harder than usual as he came through the swing in order for the bat to catch up. As he did this, his grip on the bat loosened just enough that as the bat whipped around his body, it slid out of his hand and flung like a boomerang, past Will's head so fast that Will would not have been able to react if it had come directly at him. As Will steadied himself, he felt a moment of relief as his mind processed what had just happened and what might have been if he had been in the bat's path, but that moment was fleeting as Will looked up and saw the look of horror of Kevin O'Donnell's face just before he covered his eyes with both hands and hollered the words, "Oh my God."

Will turned, almost not wanting to look at all, and spotted the sight that had made the other boys behind him freeze in place, the shock of the scene too overwhelming for them to process. The victim, Cormac Sweeney, who also happened to be Will's closest mate, released a cry that Will imagined may have surpassed the cry of the banshee Aunt Aisling described to him years before. Cormac sat on the ground with his hands flailing around. Protruding from his right eye socket was the oar – the jagged end of it speared into his eye and the curved end of it resting against the ground between Cormac's legs. Soon all the boys had followed Kevin O'Donnell's lead and were jumping around screaming "Oh my God," not wanting to look at Cormac.

Will didn't move right away, but not because of the shock. He was analyzing his friend's condition, who sat less than three yards away, considering how best to help him. The first adult to arrive was the mother of one of the other boys, and her reaction was a helpful as the rest of the group, the only difference being that her screams consisted of, "Help, someone please help us."

As Will was debating whether it was best to remove the spear from his friends eye or leave it for the doctor, he felt something on his shoulder, something that felt like a hand, but there was no one there with him. It was comforting and his body felt sudden warmth throughout it. His shoulders were relaxed of any tension and his hands and forearms felt strong, like he could walk over, pick his friend up, and carry him all the way to the doctor himself. It was all the effects of adrenaline but without the shakiness and rapid heartbeat that usually accompany it. He was confident and felt in control of the situation while what felt like half the neighborhood panicked around him.

He walked to Cormac, took hold of the back of his neck with the grip of a lumber jack, then used his other hand to pull the oar out of Cormac's eye socket. There was blood, but it wasn't gushing the way Will had expected it might, and he could tell right away that the socket was empty. "It came out!" he heard one person say, at first assuming the person was referring to the oar, but when Seamus looked at the tip of the oar's sharpest edge, he saw his friend's eyeball sitting on it, like a toothpick through a scallop.

I can fix this, Will thought. He didn't know why he thought this. He was sure a doctor wouldn't even be able to fix it beyond replacing it with a glass substitute.

Cormac's left eye was still good and it caught sight of the eyeball on the oar, causing him to release another ear-piercing scream. Will, still gripping the back of Cormac's neck, turned his friend's head to face him.

"It's okay, Cormac. I'm going to fix you." He paused for a moment. "I think."

"You're not a bloody doctor, Will. You can't fix a shredded eyeball." Cormac was shaking and panting and Will could barely make out the words as he spoke them.

Cormac tried to push Will off of him and climb to his feet. He was strong in his state of panic, but Will subdued him with the one hand on his neck.

"Lie down, Cormac."

"Get the fuck off me," he said.

A great chill ripped through Will's body, as if he had just passed through an arctic breeze, and he shivered. His head felt heavy and he thought he might lose consciousness, but it passed just as quickly as it had come on, and again it was the feeling of great warmth, but stronger this time, as though he were emanating heat. Will moved the hand that wasn't holding the oar and placed it on Cormac's chest and he saw that his hand was glowing. Not actually giving off light, but glowing inside, as though someone had planted a candle in it and it was shining through his skin. He spoke to Cormac, using phrases he had never used before and speaking them in a language he had never spoken. It was Gaelic. "Child," he said, but the word left his mouth as, "Leanbh."

"Sleep," he wanted to say, but instead it was "Codladh," with a strong Gaelic tongue.

Will gently pushed Cormac's back against the ground. Cormac closed his left eye and his breathing began to steady. Seamus took the loose eyeball from the oar and squeezed it back into its socket. He placed his left hand over Cormac's forehead and his right over the injured eye. Both hands illuminated.

"Cure what ails you," Will said, but spoke the words as "Leigheas cén bhuairt sin ort."

Through his fingers, Will could see the eye radiate light, then the light die off. He removed his right hand from the eye, but his left remained on Cormac's forehead.

"Walk again in the grace of the Lord" – "Siúlóid arís sa grásta an Tiarna."

Cormac's eyes opened, both of them, and welled up with tears. He touched the affected eye, then covered the other to test out his vision. "I can see. What did you do, Will?" The tears were streaming down his temples as he lay on the ground looking up at Will.

Will smiled. "I fixed you, just like I said I would."

The light in Will's hands dissipated and the sensation of adrenalin he felt expired. The mother who had been the first adult on the scene, knelt down before Will, made the sign of the cross, then rested her head on her knees and began reciting the Apostle's Creed. Another woman, the mother of Kevin O'Donnell, quickly joined her, and soon Kevin and the other children followed suit. Will and Cormac watched them fall in line, Cormac still on the ground, and Will kneeling beside him.

Cormac looked back up at Will after a minute. "Are you Christ?"

Will looked down. "Of course not. I'm Will."

Cormac smiled at him. Will stood and extended his arm to help Cormac onto his feet. He began dusting Cormac's backside off amidst the praying when he heard his name being called.

He turned and it was his mom, along with Aisling.

"What's happening, Will?" his mother said.

Will stared, unsure of how to respond. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, so he turned to Cormac, who looked as though he was about to release a volcano of verbal diarrhea upon them, but paused when he saw the look of worry on Will's face. Cormac bit his lower lip, scanning the small assembly of worshippers as he formulated a reasonable story.

"It's a miracle," Cormac finally said, and reached down and took hold of the oar. "The bat slipped out of Kevin's hands and hit me square in the eye. It's a miracle it didn't impale my eyeball." He presented the sharp end of the handle to them. "Will looked me over and it's just a flesh wound in the corner of my eye, nothing serious. All the other fine Christians here were too afraid to inspect it. They'd assumed the worst. Ain't that right, Will?"

Will stared at his best mate in bewildered amazement.

"Ain't that right, Will?" Cormac said again, nodding at him.

Will began to slowly nod in return. "Yea. Yea. Sure it is. That's exactly how it happened."

The onlookers had all finished their prayer and were sitting up on their knees, listening with confused expressions.

"No, that's not what happened at all," Kevin O'Donnell said. "You must be delirious from it all, Cormac. I saw it myself. The bat took his eye clean out. Speared it like a fish. Will here put it back in and healed him like the hands of the Lord were at work."

"It's true, Fallon," Mrs. O'Donnell said.

Will and Cormac looked at each. Cormac let out a bellowing laugh and Will took his queue and followed suit. Cormac dropped to his knees, raised his hands, and began bowing up and down to Will. "Oh praise the Lord," he said, "It is our savior."

Will continued laughing and soon Cormac rolled over onto his side and began laughing again as well.

"Imagine my best mate Will as the savior himself. Right here in County Clare," Cormac said.

Mrs. O'Donnell climbed to her feet. "Perhaps a little more respect is in order from you boys."

"Forgive me, Mrs. O'Donnell," Cormac said as he stood, "but you have to admit that the idea of Will healing my sight with nothing but the power of his own two hands is at least mildly comical."

"It's no such thing," Kevin said. "Saw it with my own two eyes. So did my mom. So did all of us."

Kevin looked around at the other boys kneeling alongside him, but Cormac interceded before any of the others could respond.

"Oh this is rich." He tapped Will on the arm. "I can't wait to tell the other lads about this farce." He scanned the faces of his friends on the ground. "Whaddya say, boys? Shall we go tell the whole neighborhood about how you just witnessed a blessed miracle? See who believes us?"

"The only miracle I witnessed today is the fact that that bat didn't take your bloody eye out," one of the boys said as he climbed to his feet.

"Same here," another said. "I was only praying because I thought your eye was done for, Mac."

Cormac nodded. "I did as well. Guess the grace of God was with me today."

Mrs. O'Donnell struggled to get to her feet and her son had to assist her. "It's not true. I saw it with my own eyes. Isn't that right, Kevin?" she said.

Her son looked around at the other boys who were all standing and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, ma. Could of been we overreacted before we got a close look at the eye."

Mrs. O'Donnell looked at him as though he had cursed at her. "Young man, you saw exactly what I saw. That boy's eyeball was torn from his skull."

Aisling chimed in before Kevin could make an attempt at defending himself. "It all sounds like a pretty horrific incident, regardless of the extent of the injury. A shock like that can take quite a toll on the body."

"I beg your pardon, Aisling, but I'm not sure you should be the one lecturing us about delusions of grandeur," Mrs. O'Donnell said.

"Perhaps you're right, but the difference is, I don't try to force children into claiming they've seen something I can't prove I've seen for myself."

Mrs. O'Donnell presented Aisling with the same look of abhorrence she had given her son a moment before. "I know what I've seen." She took her son by the arm. "And you can be sure I'll be telling Father O'Brien and the rest of the parish about the divine intervention witnessed here today."

"Oh please no, mom," Kevin said, knowing the ribbing he was in for from the other boys once questions about his mother's mental state became the talk of the village.

"We are leaving, Kevin." She yanked him by the arm as she walked away, pulling him with her until he stopped resisting. About ten yards later, she turned back and addressed Fallon. "I suggest you and Mr. Manley talk with your son and get the truth from him. That boy has a gift and it should be shared with the world."

Fallon didn't need to respond, Aisling was set to get in the final word.

"Please tell Father O'Brien that Aisling the Clairvoyant and Young Will the Healer are looking forward to seeing him on Sunday. Perhaps we can present our special powers to the entire congregation after the homily."

Mrs. O'Donnell gave no reaction. She turned and followed her son who was moping off a few feet ahead of her.

Fallon and Aisling brought Will and Cormac back to the house for a snack and further explanation of what happened. Will took the lead on recounting the events, with Cormac interjecting details Will overlooked. When they were done, Fallon said nothing. She sat, almost looking defeated, as if it had been her son who had been injured.

"I told you this boy was special," she said, then turned her attention to Cormac. "You're a good friend. A smart one too, knowing what the public would do to Will here if they thought he were the second coming of Christ."

"You mean you believe us?" Cormac said.

"Sure we do," Aisling said, nodding at Fallon who remained silent.

"But what do we do about Mrs. O'Donnell?" Will said.

"Don't worry about her. That woman searches for signs of Christ in her oatmeal and the whole village knows it. They won't pay her no attention. It's this young man we need to be concerned with," Aisling said, looking back to Cormac. "T'was a fine thing you did out there today, but keeping a secret like this for the rest of your days, especially from your ma and da, that's not an easy thing to do."

"I'll never tell a soul, I swear it," Cormac said.

"You say that now, but one little disagreement down the road between you two boys and you may find yourself looking for a reason to do something vengeful."

"I trust him, Auntie," Will said. "We don't have to worry."

"I do as well," Fallon said.

Aisling considered this for a few seconds then nodded. "Well I guess that'll have to be good enough then, won't it."

# 7

Kildysart, Ireland, 1941 – Will privately honed his skills as a healer throughout adolescence while publicly developing his skills as a blacksmith at the shop with his father, and as a fisherman in the estuary with Cormac. When Cormac hooked himself at the base of his neck while rushing to cast a line so deep that Will had to use his buck knife to cut it out, Will healed the gaping wound, and when Seamus tripped onto an anvil in his shop and shattered his kneecap – the only time Will ever heard his father howl in pain – Will was there to mend it. He had also developed one other unique skill that he had hidden from his parents, Cormac, and even from Aisling who he told nearly everything to, including the visions that came to him in his dreams, often of war and killing and of the men inciting this violence. He woke one night, shortly after his sixteenth birthday, screaming so loudly that both Seamus and Fallon rushed in to check on him. He simply told them it must have been a bad dream and that he couldn't recall what it was about. But he recalled it clear as day and the next morning, when Aisling arrived, he told her about it over tea. About the parade he saw; men marching through streets adorning the color orange, banging drums, and then the violence – people shot, homes burned, hordes of women and children screaming. This was early July, just a few days before "The Twelfth," as it were known in Belfast, when the orange order parade resulted in one of the worst riots in the history of Belfast.

These dreams were not uncommon, but they varied in their level of horror and detail, and Will and Aisling could find no explanation behind why he had the dreams he had. Proximity seemed to play a role – the closer the event the more vivid Will's dreams were. Anything within a few hundred miles played out as if he were there himself, a spectator at the event.

Will's other unique skill, the one he kept private and had begun to develop around the time he turned twenty-one, was telepathy. The first time it occurred was in the kitchen of his parent's home as his mother was making them some tea. His father had just left for work and Fallon was clearly irked by something he had done. Will was sitting at the table reading and wondering what was bothering her. He looked up at his mother to ask her if she was okay. Her back was turned to him and as he looked at her, he heard her say, "If only you weren't sitting here, Will. I'd skip my tea and go straight for the whiskey today." Her voice was strange, as if it were echoing off the bare walls of an empty room, but it was her voice, so he thought nothing of it at first.

"I'm happy to pour you some whiskey if you need it, ma," he said.

She turned and looked at him with a raised brow and a smirk. "Are you reading' my mind now, Will?" she said, her voice sounding as it normally did.

Will stared in bewilderment and before she could turn back to continue with the tea, he heard her say, "That was odd," but her mouth never moved and her voice was back to sounding as though it had bounced off the walls of the kitchen a few times.

Will instantly knew she was right. He had indeed read her mind.

"You just look a little tense this morning is all," he said. "Nothing wrong with a sip of whiskey before breakfast now and then."

"You're terrible," she said with a laugh. "There's plenty wrong with that."

He tested out his new ability on just about everyone – Seamus, Fallon, Aisling, Cormac, Timmy, Nora, and a number of folks at the pub – and he felt guiltier each time he did it, but he needed to understand how to wield it and what he was capable of. After a few weeks, he knew four things about this power. First, it only worked when he was looking at the person. Second, he had to intentionally wonder what the person was thinking. Third, he didn't want anyone to know because he knew how paranoid it would make them in his presence. Lastly, he didn't want to ever use it on the people he loved unless it was absolutely critical. This final decision only lasted about a year though. Will was twenty-two years old by this point and the world was in the midst of its second world war. Germany, Japan, and Italy had formed a pact known to many as the Axis powers, France had surrendered itself to Germany, Britain had been bombed by them, and Italy had also declared war on Britain and begun invading its protectorate in Africa.

The progression of the war was the daily topic of conversion throughout Ireland, including Kildysart, and it was often the subject of discussion on the rowboat Cormac and Will fished out of just about every morning on the Shannon Estuary. Their discussion about the war varied. Often for Will it was the examination of why it was happening – how the world had not learned from the First World War and how perhaps this second event was a test from God. This usually fed into a rant from Cormac about what troublemakers the Germans were, but these rants usually shifted to a long diatribe on how much Cormac despised the British and all the pain they had inflicted upon the Irish. The examples varied at times, but the conclusion was always the same, with Cormac stating that he wished Britain had joined forces with Germany so that Ireland could "team up with the Yanks across the pond" and annihilate them both.

Will had begun having dreams about the war before Germany even invaded Austria about three years earlier. The dreams were nothing close to as vivid as the ones he had of the riots in Belfast, but they were more frequent and he knew at the time that something significant was brewing, and in the years following he proved to be right, much to his dismay. Ireland had stayed neutral on the war, but many Irishmen had enlisted with the British armed forces. Will knew how strongly Cormac opposed this and was dreading the task of telling him he had chosen to do the same. It was a misty August morning in 1941 just after sunrise when Will broke the news to his friend. They sat in the boat, lines cast, when Will blurted it out. He had considered a more tactful approach and rehearsed a few different lead-ins in the days leading up to the conversation, but in the end found it was easier to yank it off like an old bandage.

"I'm enlisting with the British army," he said.

Cormac was silent and Will resisted the strong desire to read his mind. After nearly a minute of waiting on a response, Will broke the silence. "Are you debating whether to toss me off the boat?"

"I'm debating what cockamamie reason you might be planning to give me."

"I think I can help."

"Help who? The bloody English?"

"Them and many others. If the Axis conquers England, we might be next."

"If the Germans conquer England then those Brits will be getting a taste of their own medicine, won't they now?"

"And then what, Cormac?"

"Exactly. Then what? Maybe the Germans let us have Northern Ireland back in exchange for our neutrality. Or maybe they invade Dublin, in which case we're going to need all the traders like you who abandon us to fight for the freedom of the British. Something the British have yet to afford the people of Northern Ireland, as you seem to have forgotten."

Will knew that arguing the point was futile, but wanted so badly for Cormac to understand why he had come to this decision.

"This isn't about Ireland and Britain, Cormac. It goes beyond us and even beyond the soil of Europe. The world is at war and in this particular fight, Britain happens to be on the side of what's right. There is evil being done that I'm sure we've yet to understand the extent of, and I have an obligation to help those being harmed and prevent the evil from spreading. I think we as a people have that obligation."

Cormac straightened his posture, as though someone had just insulted his family name, and Will knew he was about to receive the vitriol he had anticipated.

"Let me ask you a question," Cormac said, continuing without providing Will a chance to respond. "Let's say Germany wins this war and occupies England, okay? Occupies them under tyrannical rule for many years, until one day the Germans finally concede England's right to be a free nation again. Only, instead of its full freedom, Germany only allows the country of Britain only partial freedom, keeping six of its original continental counties for themselves. Then let's say, shortly after all this, Germany finds itself in a war – " Cormac was red-faced and shouting at this point, the words seething from between his teeth along with bubbles of saliva. "Should Germany expect Britain to come to its aid? And would England even entertain such a notion? And lastly, do you think anyone in the world would condemn the people of Britain for not helping the country that starved and enslaved its people for a hundred years?"

Cormac stared at Will with fire in his eyes, awaiting a response, but Will understood that they each had a different perspective, neither of which was fully wrong. Except Cormac didn't see it this way. He gave up on waiting for a response from Will, and without saying another word began rowing them back to shore. After several minutes of nothing but the sound of the oars slicing through the cool water and splashing back through the surface, Will grew impatient and wanted to know what Cormac was thinking. He hoped that deep down his friend understood why he was making this decision, and perhaps even agreed with it to an extent, but felt the need to put on a guise of disgust due to his unyielding abhorrence of the British. So Will listened to Cormac's thoughts and found a more disappointing sentiment surging repeatedly though his mind.

"Go ahead and go, you fucking amadán. Don't stay and use your gift to help your own people, the people who cared for and protected you. No, go and help the ones who've suppressed us for all these years. Go ahead and go you ungrateful eejit."

Will could picture the words still seething through his teeth, even though Cormac's back was turned to him and these words never actually left his mouth. Will waited till they hit shore before making another go at making Cormac see his perspective. They were carrying their boat, Cormac leading the way.

"Don't you understand that this is what I was put on this earth to do, Cormac? I have a gift and I need to use it to help the good in this world."

Cormac didn't hesitate, nor did he turn to face Will. "You have a gift and you're going off to waste it by getting killed fighting another man's war." He didn't sound angry any longer. The response was very even, very matter of fact.

Once the boat was locked up, Cormac gathered his rod and strode away.

"Can we at least go for a pint?" Will said to him.

"No point in that, now is there?" Cormac said without stopping.

"You've been a great friend, Mac," Will said, knowing it was the last time he'd see his best mate. At least until he returned from the war. If he returned.

When Will returned home, Aisling and Fallon were in the midst of cooking Will a fancy brunch – black pudding, sausage, baked beans, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and tomatoes – and Seamus was off buying his favorite Tullamore Dew whiskey – "the good stuff" he always called it. Will had told his parents and Aisling of his plans more than a week before. All three of them, including his father, were emotional, but took the news with better understanding than Cormac.

"Do you feel this is your calling, son?" Seamus had said.

Will responded in the affirmative.

"Did God or Eamon come to you?" he asked. Seamus told him they had not, but that he just felt in his heart it was what he needed to do. The truth was that Will did try to communicate with both God and his guardian angel on the matter, but was provided no response. Just the dreams – his dreams, or nightmares as Aisling called them, were all he had to steer him.

"Well, I suppose we all knew this day would come," Seamus told him, "I just wish it didn't involve you having to go off to war is all."

Will agreed and Fallon and Aisling cried as if it were his funeral as they took turns hugging him.

Fallon had come up with the idea of a going away brunch for him, one they had hoped Cormac would attend, and they also invited Timmy and Nora. When Will arrived without Cormac, his mother and Aisling took immediate notice.

"I suppose it didn't go well then," Fallon said.

"Not at all," Will said, and explained how the conversation with Cormac had played out.

"I knew it," Aisling said. "Do you think he'll go blabbing to all the boys about your gift, Will?"

"No, I don't think he will. But I don't think it matters if he does. I can't squander this gift any longer, and eventually people are going to find out about it."

Seamus walked in the door, whiskey in hand, and immediately inquired about Cormac as well. Will filled him in over an early glass of whiskey, something Fallon would have given them a hard time about if not for the occasion.

"Well, it's a shame he doesn't understand the position you're in, son," Seamus said. "Truth is though, if it were anyone but you going up there to Belfast tomorrow, I'd be just as angry as Cormac."

"Let's not get into the politics of it now," Fallon said. "Bad enough we'll have to listen to Timmy go on about it when he gets here."

"Maybe he'd understand if I were to tell him what I am," Will said.

"Oh Lord, please don't," Aisling said. I love Nora, but the woman could talk a dog off a meat wagon. We'd never hear the end of it from her."

Seamus laughed. "Between the two of 'em they'd never be able to contain it. We'd have half the village knocking on our door asking questions."

"I suppose you're right," Will said.

"There is something we need to discuss with you before Timmy and Nora get here," Seamus said.

Fallon and Aisling temporarily abandoned the food on the stove and sat at the table, as if Seamus had rehearsed the game plan with them.

"Looks serious," Will said with a smile, hoping they would all smile in return and assure him it was not, but they didn't.

Aisling brought an empty mug with her and pushed it toward Seamus, who filled it part way with whiskey. Seamus then took a sip from his own mug before clearing his throat to speak.

"Will, we've told you most of what you need to know about your history and our history as a family, but we haven't yet told you everything."

"Is it bad?"

"No." Seamus reconsidered his response. "Well it's not good." He took back the remainder of his whiskey before continuing. "Son, we didn't leave Galway simply because people didn't understand your mother's pregnancy. We were driven out by something."

"Something or someone?"

"Not a person exactly. Vampires."

Will looked to Aisling and his mom, waiting for them to have a laugh at him, thinking it must be a joke, but their grave faces told him otherwise.

"Vampires like in the Dracula novel?" Will said, turning his attention back to Seamus.

"Something like that, but not as civilized, if you can imagine that."

Everyone was silent for a minute as Will took it in. Seamus refilled his mug and Will took a sip before turning to Aisling.

"You knew about this?" he said.

"Just the past few weeks."

"And you believe it could be true?"

"After the things I've seen up till now in my life, it'd take more than the idea of a vampire to shock me. Though I admit, I was close to being as shocked as you are."

"I know it's a lot to take in," Fallon said.

"What's the importance of telling me now though?"

"We had to leave Galway because vampires had come looking for you," Seamus said. "They wanted you and they killed my parents, your mother's parents, and several others trying to get to you."

"What did they want with me?"

"We had no way to be sure, but seeing that you're a gift from the Lord, I imagine they see you as a threat to the evil they propagate. And they're probably right."

"And you think they're going to come for me again?"

"I don't see why they wouldn't."

"Why haven't they come yet then? It's been more than twenty years."

"I don't know how it all works, son. But we've worked very hard during that time to keep your gift from making its way to the public."

"How many are there and what do I do if they find me?"

"I don't know the answers to those questions. I wish more than anything that I did, but I don't. The only things I know for sure in all the folklore I've come across is that they don't like the daylight and they can't enter a home unless invited. It's how your mother and I escaped them. I know they're faster than us, they have fangs like a wolf's, and they must be strong as a bear the way they killed my father."

"You've seen them for yourself?"

"Stood no more than a few feet from one the night before we left Galway."

Will was silent again as he processed the information. He held his mug out and Seamus filled it again. "I don't know how I'm supposed to compete with that then," Will said. "Auntie?" He looked at Aisling.

"Yes, dear."

"Is Eamon here?"

"I don't see him, no."

"If you see him again before I leave in the morning, will you tell him something for me?"

"I can certainly try, dear, but he never pays me any mind."

"Just tell him that if I'm not to go tomorrow, I need some sort of a sign. Otherwise, I'm off to the war with nothing but my best guess on what I'm supposed to do."

Aisling nodded. There was a knock at the door and she stood. "Must be Timmy and Nora," she said, shuffling over.

Seamus put his hand on Will's. "We'll talk more on the ride to the train in the morning," he said.

Fallon stood, her eyes and nostrils red and moist. She kissed Will on his check. "I best get back to the stove or I'll sit here all day crying in front of everyone."

The following morning, Will and Seamus prepped the mules for the ride to Ennis, where Seamus would leave Will to get on the train to Limerick Junction, which would take him to Dublin where he would then ride the train up to Belfast. When they were done, they ate a quick breakfast and Will said his goodbyes to his tearful mother and Aisling before he and his father threw his bag – the same bag Seamus had packed when he and Fallon fled Galway more than twenty years before – onto the cart and climbed in after. Seamus snapped the reins and the mules began to trot toward the road, but Seamus stopped them abruptly, nearly knocking Will out of his seat.

"What are you doing, da?" Will said. He looked to his father whose sights were locked toward the sky. Will followed his gaze to the tree just across the road. Perched on one of its braches was a large black raven. "It's just a bird, dad."

"No, son. That's the sign you asked Eamon for."

"That raven is a sign that I should stay here in Ireland?"

"Just the opposite. That bird is ready to travel, and if I'm not mistaken, it's the same raven that escorted us here to Kildysart all those years ago."

The raven stared at Seamus, as if it knew he was talking about him. Seamus tipped his cap and nodded. The bird released a loud caw and took fight. Seamus followed suit, again snapping the reigns of the harness.

"Your instinct hasn't misled you, Will. Time to fulfill your destiny, son."

# 8

Tunisia, 1943 – After passing his medical exam in Belfast, Will was sent to County Tyrone for inoculations and training before relocating with his brigade to Scotland, where they boarded a ship traveling down the River Clyde and into Algiers Harbour in the late fall of 1942. They traveled by foot, train, and eventually motor vehicle into Tunisia where they joined the effort to retake the city of Tunis from the Axis. The raven had followed the entire journey, disappearing for days at a time, but always reappearing whenever Will was relocated.

Will saw his first real battle at Bou Arada during a campaign by his brigade to overcome the Axis stronghold in the area. The casualties were overwhelming – Will had created a vision for himself of what it would be like on the battlefield, playing it cautious and keeping back to search for wounded soldiers who he could rescue and drag to safety, then eventually waiting for the opportunity to break free of his regiment and cross into enemy lines. Beyond that, he had no plan, except that he wanted to see the evil from the inside.

The desert landscape left Will and his brigade pretty well exposed; the land they marched across was flat and offered little shelter from trees, and the enemies they were advancing upon were well situated atop the few hills in the area. They were accompanied by a few tanks and Will did his best to remain close enough to one of them so that he was somewhat shielded from enemy fire, yet at a safe enough distance in case the tank was taken out. The first soldier Will saw go down was about thirty yards ahead of him. The soldier was hit and stumbled back a few steps, then fell forward, dropping to his knees before his entire body collapsed on top of his gun.

"Don't let him be dead yet," Will said in a whisper, but before he could begin to formulate a plan for how he would rescue the soldier, another hollered out in pain and Will saw a man just a few yards ahead of the other soldier fall to his side.

He looks alive, I can save at least one of them, Will thought, but then another, and yet another was cut down by enemy fire and Will began to realize that he'd be lucky if he could get himself out of there alive, never mind one of the other men. The tank to his right suddenly exploded and the blast caused Will to stumble. He might have caught himself, but voluntarily collapsed into a small gathering of shrubbery and remained there, listening to the gun fire and the cries of pain in the distance, which moved further and further away from him, but even the faintest screams for help weren't any less distressing. He endured them though, telling himself that his gift wouldn't be good to anyone if he were dead. He remained there until nightfall, not even moving to relieve his bladder. Far off in the darkness, periodic gunfire could be heard, but the screams had stopped and it was clear the battle had ceased for the time being. It was easy to draw the conclusion that his side of the battle had not been successful. He cautiously climbed to his knees. Before standing, he opened his pants and emptied what felt like an entire canteen's worth of liquid into the shrub he had been huddled next to all day.

The moon was half full and it was all the light Will had to navigate his way across the foreign plains of Bou Arada. He took to his feet as he contemplated his next move. He could retreat south and locate other members of the allied forces, or he could follow the path his regimen had planned to take, heading north-east toward the enemy. The former would delay his progress of infiltrating the enemy, and the latter would likely get him killed. He recalled seeing a road just as his regimen began their march earlier in the day. As they had veered east toward the enemy, the road appeared to continue straight to the north. He had no idea where it might lead, but thought it couldn't be any less productive or dangerous than the other two options. The temperature had dropped by at least five degrees when the sun set and Will wished he had his great coat with him for what might likely prove to be a long walk.

Will moved cautiously across the landscape as he searched for the dirt road, realizing there may be other soldiers lying amongst the scarce shrubbery, and also wanting to avoid any snakes in the area. By the time he located the deserted road, all was quiet and there was no sign of life nearby. He walked on, less cautiously, stopping about every fifty yards to listen for signs of activity up ahead. He had walked what he estimated to be about a thousand yards when he stopped and heard the crunch of gravel behind him. He turned and a soldier, one he knew was not on his side, had a gun aimed at him. The soldier said something in a language Will had never heard – German, he was pretty sure – but Will somehow understood.

"Hands up," the soldier had said.

Will did as instructed, turning as he heard another set of footsteps approach from the other direction. It was another solider with his gun also pointed at Will.

"Get his gun," this second soldier said to the first, also in German.

Will turned and took a step back, hands still raised, so that he could see both men in his peripheral.

"Just shoot him," the first soldier said.

"We will interrogate him first," the second soldier said, then lowered his gun and approached Will. "Do you speak German?"

Will looked at the man as if he didn't understand and said nothing.

The first soldier took a step forward and put Will in the sights of his weapon. "He doesn't speak German, we shoot him."

"We bring him back for interrogation."

"I don't want to go back yet." The first soldier took another step forward and Will could see in the moonlight that he was intent on ridding himself of the burden Will's presence had created for him.

Will, whose hands were still raised above his head, lowered his right hand in the direction of the soldier, exposing his open palm to him.

"Stop," Will said in his strong Irish brogue.

The soldier froze where he stood, Will still in his sights, and Will wasn't sure whether the soldier was simply steadying himself to fire a shot, or if he was following Will's command. They stared at one another for several seconds, Will waiting for the soldier to fire, the soldier waiting on instruction from Will.

"Put the gun down," Will said, unsure whether the man even understood English.

The soldier did as Will said, crouching to the ground and gently placing the gun in the road as if it were made of glass and might shatter if handled too roughly.

"What are you doing?" the other soldier said to his counterpart, clearly not fluent in English. "What did he say to you?" he continued.

Will turned to address him as the soldier raised his own gun and put Will in his sights.

"Get down on the ground," the solider said.

Will redirected his raised palm toward the soldier. "I mean you no harm."

The man held Will in the sights of his pistol.

"Put down your gun," Will said.

Just as the soldier before him had, the man gently lowered his weapon to the ground.

"Do you speak English?" Will said.

The man shook his head.

"Yet you understand me?"

The man continued to stare, but gave no response.

"Do you understand what I am saying to you?"

"I understand," the man said.

Will heard the other soldier move and when Will turned, he saw the man on bended knee, bowing his head.

"He is our savior," the soldier thought, and Will could hear it, same as he had heard the thoughts of his friends and family back in Kildysart.

The other soldier followed suit, kneeling before Will and thinking, "Please guide me, my lord."

Will stood before the worshipping German soldiers, feeling for the first time in his life as though he was truly on the path to fulfilling whatever destiny he was meant to. It was just two soldiers in an entire world of violence and unrest, but if he could influence two soldiers so easily, then those two could quickly become an entire brigade of soldiers, which could soon become an army, and then an entire country. Perhaps all of Europe, and even beyond. His path was clear to him. Before he could speak to what appeared to be his first two disciples, there came a loud squawk from above. Will looked up and saw the raven, which he hadn't seen since leaving Scotland, circle through the light of the half-moon overhead. Caw, caw, caw, it screeched loudly before swooping down and making a quick orbit around Will as it released another loud caw, then darted back toward the night sky. It flew off in the direction Will had come from and turned its head back to Will to squawk one last time, as if to say, "Let's go!" But just as Will realized the bird had come to deliver a warning of some kind to him, two figures leaped upon the kneeling soldiers. Will never saw or even heard them coming – they were nowhere, and suddenly they were on the men. The two figures knocked the hats off of the soldier's heads, took them by their hair in one hand, and lifted them from the ground as though they weighed nothing more than a house cat.

It happened so swiftly that Will had not been able to react, barely processing the actions taking place before him. The figures, each slightly shorter than Will, opened their mouths wide to reveal elongated fangs, and produced a hissing sound before leaning down an sinking the sharp incisors into the soldiers' throats. The men each let out an initial bellow of pain, but the sound quickly turned into nothing more than the gurgle of blood in their windpipe as they struggled to cry out for the help of their newfound savior.

The sight of the blood streaming down the necks of the soldiers and into their collars galvanized Will. Vampires, he thought, recalling the warning his father had provided him weeks earlier.

Will lifted his hand to the creatures. "Stop," he said.

The creatures both looked up at him without removing their mouths from the necks of their prey.

"Stop," Will repeated, glaring at the creatures.

The creatures ignored Will's command and returned to sucking the life from their victims. Will attempted to read the vampires' minds, but all he heard were noises similar to the sound the vampires had made before piercing the flesh of the two men, as if the vampires were hissing back at Will for attempting to intrude on their thoughts.

The raven swooped down again just past Will's head. Caw, it said, loudly enough for Will to cover his ear due to the uncomfortable closeness of it. The raven then flew down the road, again encouraging Will to follow. The vampires, seeing the raven coast past them, released the soldiers from their jaws and both hissed at it. They then turned their attention to Will and dropped the soldiers, who were nothing more than corpses by then, to the ground. They stepped toward Will and smiled. Will had not noticed until that moment that one of the vampires was a female – they both had short hair, the woman's the shortest he had ever seen on a lady. Blood dripped from their chins, staining the already blood-soaked shirts they wore.

"Are you him?" the female said to Will.

"I don't smell his blood," the male said before Will could answer. "It's just as Alulim said. Beware the one whose bloodscent is masked."

"I want to taste him," the female said, taking a step closer to Will.

The other vampire raised his arm to her. "No, we must bring him to Alulim."

The raven swooped down, talons first, and pierced the female vampire in the eyes with its rear claws. The vampire cried out in pain and the male vampire took hold of the raven by its neck and ripped it off of the other vampire's face. He opened his mouth and hissed at the bird. The raven extended its neck and took hold of the vampire's right fang with its beak, then jerked its neck back and ripped the fang out from the root of its gums. Blood spewed from the empty socket and the vampire cried out in a mix of pain and anger. With another quick motion of its neck the raven flung the two-inch fang onto the road, then clamped its beak onto the other fang and hastily removed that one as well. The vampire flung the bird at the ground, but it opened its wings and took flight before hitting the road.

The female vampire, unable to see anything, stepped in Will's direction, thrashing her arms around and quickly locating Will's arm. She took hold of his bicep and yanked him close enough to take hold of his head with her other hand and sink her fangs into his neck. Before Will or the raven could react, she released him and began gagging. She started by spitting out the small amount of blood she had sucked out of him, but the gag soon turned to a hacking fit and she was coughing up blood, large amounts of it. The vampire dropped to her knees, clutching her throat as she continued to gurgle and vomit a deep red liquid that was almost black in the moonlight. The male vampire looked on in horror. He hissed at Will, but the effect was lost without the threat of sharp incisors. The female vampire emitted a final gurgle before collapsing onto her side and expiring.

The other vampire took three cautious steps backward, then turned and disappeared into the darkness, gone without so much as the sound of a footstep against the terrain. The raven circled once again overhead and cawed down to Will. This time Will didn't hesitate in following the bird's lead.

# 9

Will woke from his dream about an hour before sunrise. He had taken shelter from the cool breeze and from potential predators in a collection of tall shrubbery about fifty yards off the road he had been following. The raven was perched on the branch of an olive tree just a few yards away.

In his dream, Will was frightened. He was surrounded by darkness and was threatened by it in a way he had never before experienced in or outside of a dream. "Hello?" he kept saying. Whether he was asking for help or seeking out a predator, Will wasn't sure, but he was speaking to someone in the dream and getting no answer. When he woke, the fear lingered. He was shaking, partly from the cool night air, but mainly because of his nerves. He sat up, bringing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them for warmth. He saw the shadow of the raven still perched on the branch of the tree a few yards away.

"Something bad is coming," Will said.

The raven stared down at him in acknowledgement of the comment, but gave no response beyond that.

"Can you give me some direction here, bird?"

The raven did nothing.

"I'll keep this course then," Will said, as he climbed to his feet.

Will stumbled through the shrubbery, high stepping to avoid tripping in it, and the raven took flight to follow.

"At least keep an eye out for snakes," Will said to it.

Will continued north and the land opened up, leaving him feeling too exposed. Part of him was anxious for dawn to break – the terror of his dream lingered, as did the thought of vampires, though he felt a mild sense of confidence knowing that he seemed to be safe from their bite – but as dawn grew nearer, Will also became concerned with losing the veil of night and the opportunity it could provide to a potential German sniper. He had no idea where he was or how far into enemy territory he might be.

Suddenly, the raven swooped down and encircled Will, then rocketed upward as it cawed loudly several times. Will watched as the raven flew north and disappeared into the night sky. Will remained where the raven had left him, listening for signs of disruption up ahead and squinting as he peered into the dark atmosphere before him. He could see as far as about thirty yards, but after that it was too dim to make out even shadows, as if a wall of black had been placed there. He heard something behind him. He wasn't sure what type of noise it was – might have been a small reptile or even just the branch of a bush he had disrupted moments earlier resettling – it was faint, but it was something.

"Hello?" he said.

No response and there was no sign of the raven either. Will soon heard two similar noises, one to his left and the other from the direction the raven had flown in.

"Hello?" Will said again.

The strong sense of fright Will felt in his dream came over him again. He began softly whispering one of Aisling's favorite bible verses, Psalm 23. The thought of an animal predator, perhaps the lions of Africa he had once read about, crossed his mind and he wondered as he spoke the words of the Bible he had come to know so well whether his powers would work on a creature like that. He shivered as he finished the verse, envisioning what the eyes of a hungry lion standing just a few yards before him might look like, or how it would feel if he found himself surrounded by a pride of lions in the night ready to pounce on him.

Will closed his eyes for a moment, wishing the threat away. When his eyes opened, Will did find a sea of fangs before him, but not those of a lion. Will's heart beat faster, but there was also a sense of relief that passed through him. The fear of the unknown was gone and he was facing a predator he had survived just hours before – a vampire in front of him, one to his left, another to his right, and a fourth directly behind him.

"You're coming with us," the one in front of him said. Her complexion was slightly darker than Will had imagined a vampire could be and she had powerful eyes; large almond shaped sockets framing her emerald irises, which sparkled in the moonlight the way a human eye might if it were welled up with tears.

"Why would I do that?" Will said.

Will turned his head slightly to the right in order to gauge the activity of the vampire behind him, but as he did, he saw the female vampire move from out of his peripheral, and before he could turn back to face her, she struck him. The force of it was like nothing Will had ever felt – the idea of stepping in front of a moving train was all he could equate it to – but it didn't harm him, not the way it should have. She had punched him with double fists directly in the chest, knocking him off his feet and into the arms of the large vampire standing five yards behind him. The large vampire caught Will by his torso and held him in a bear hug as the vampires who had been standing to Will's left and right darted over and each took hold of an arm. They quickly wrapped Will's wrists and forearms in lengths of chain and stretched his arms outward as far as the sockets of his shoulders would allow. The alluring female vampire stepped toward him.

"Now will you be coming with us, or do we have to make this even harder on you?"

The vampires pulled harder on the chains, tugging at Will's joints and pressing the metal links deep into his skin.

"I will not be led by you or any of your kind," Will said.

The female nodded and the chains were pulled tighter. Will didn't feel pain, it was more of an unnatural discomfort as the strain of being pulled in opposite directions began to tug at his sternum and unseat his shoulders to the point where Will knew if they pulled any harder something inside him would give. Just as he felt the right shoulder come out of place, a great warmth filled him and everything around him became illuminated. Looking down, Will could see light poking through a hole in his wool pants and knew it was he who was emitting the brightness. There wasn't a color to this light, it lit a ten yard radius around him as though the sun had suddenly been switched on, but was contained by some invisible boundary around the landscape they occupied. Will heard the vampire behind him scream first and felt the squeeze of its arms release from his torso. He turned and saw that the large vampire was on fire, as though he had been bear hugging the sun itself. Next, Will felt the chains around his arms release and his shoulder immediately snap back into place. The two vampires that had been holding them began to scream as well. They weren't on fire, but their skin slowly began to melt away, as though an invisible flame were torching it. The female vampire appeared less vulnerable to the effects of the light, but the torment showed in her exotic, emerald eyes as she backed away from Will and let out a helpless hiss, the way a house cat that has been cornered by a pack of wild dogs might.

Will shook the loose chains off him and stepped toward the female. She continued to hiss, clearly wanting to be free from the reaches of his light.

"You were human once, living among the rest of God's creatures," Will said to her, taking another step closer in order to close the gap she had created. "Let me try to heal you. Bring you to life again."

She hissed louder, the effects of his heat beginning to take hold of her. The skin covering her cheekbones and forehead bubbled up on the surface the way he recalled Aisling's flapjacks would do when they were ready to be turned.

"You are the darkness and I am the light," Will said to her, extending his hand. "Come to me, let me ease your pain and return you to the light."

Suddenly Will was struck, and this time it did hurt. He fell to the ground and felt a sharp burning sensation rip across his chest. He quickly scrambled onto his knees and glanced down. Five deep gashes had been scratched across his chest, ripping through his uniform and immediately soaking the torn fabric in blood. "A lion?" he thought.

Will pushed himself to his feet in a guarded stance and surveyed the area around him. The vampires had retreated beyond the reaches of his light, though he could still hear the hissing and screaming they produced, and the stench of cooked flesh and hair lingered in the air. Will struggled to see into the darkness. As he studied the area around his light, he came upon a figure standing just at the parameter where the light began to touch the darkness before quickly fading to black. It was an imposing human looking figure. Before Will could speak, the figure took one small step toward him, entering the light just enough for Will to get a better read on its features. It was an elder-looking vampire, but with perfect posture and broad shoulders, as though its physique had strengthened with age rather than deteriorated. Its outer layer, however, reflected the rub of time – its skin held no pigmentation; it was translucent and even in the dimmed light Will could see the blue veins coursing through its neck and forehead. It had no hair on its head or face, its teeth were intimidatingly long but had yellowed to a dark mustardy color, and its eyes were nearly all red, as though someone had squirted droplets of blood into them. On the peak of the vampire's forehead was a fresh wound – three claw marks running deep through the flesh, ending just above his brow.

"My name is Alulim," the old vampire said. "Do not fear me, I am not here to kill you."

"I'm not afraid, regardless of your intentions," Will said.

The vampire smiled, its skin wrinkling like that of a prune. He reached his right hand into the dark abyss behind him and returned it with a vampire in its grasp. It was the vampire the raven had defanged. Alulim held the vampire up by the back of its head, presenting him to Will. Smoke began to leak from its skin and the vampire squirmed futilely as Alulim held him suspended in the air.

It gave a scream of pain. "Master, please, no."

"You witnessed the superior strength of Victor here, did you not?" Alulim said to Will.

Will nodded. "I did. Just before he had his fangs torn out."

"And you see how quickly he fries in your light in comparison to me?"

Will gave no response.

"His strength and abilities are but a fraction of mine," Alulim said, then placed his other hand on one of Victor's shoulders and with one rapid gesture, he yanked Victor's head off with such ease that Will wondered what had kept it attached in the first place. Alulim dropped the body and decapitated head to the ground and they slowly began to shrivel into a hideous black mass. Alulim smiled at Will again. "A vampire with no fangs," he said, "how useless."

"What do you want from me?" Will said. "I come only seeking peace, not war."

The vampire laughed a deep, bellowing laugh. "Poor soul. They anoint you for this mission yet they don't even do you the courtesy of preparing you for exactly what it is."

"I understand why I'm here," Will quickly interceded.

"You may know why you are here in this human war, but it is clear that your ultimate calling is but a mystery to you."

"I am here to inspire peace on this earth, and it is becoming apparent that this will require me to protect the world from the likes of you."

Alulim took a step toward Will, and Will could see that the gash running down his forehead was already closing up. He could also see thin trails of smoke wafting from the vampire's skin as he moved deeper into the light emanating from Will.

"If only it were that elementary for you," Alulim said.

"And what makes you so enlightened, vampire?"

The vampire took another step closer and the smoke was more prevalent. "I am older than Jesus Christ," he said. "I possess knowledge that will take you centuries to comprehend. Unfortunately for you, you won't live that long. That is, unless you join me." He extended a hand with fingernails so long they looked more like claws, inviting Will to take it and walk off into the night with him, like a child being escorted by a parent. "Come to the darkness, as you call it, and I will show you true enlightenment," the vampire continued. "Together, we can make this planet whatever we want it to be."

Will didn't acknowledge the offer of the hand or the alliance. "You knew Christ?" he said.

Alulim grinned. "Knew is a bit of an exaggeration."

"Meaning that you saw to the death of a man whose only threat to you was inspiring peace amongst humans."

The vampire lowered his hand. "No, no. His fate was fully determined by humankind, the intolerant, self-righteous creatures that they are. You think vampires are animals, spend a little more time around this war. We're really not so vile in comparison."

"And why am I different? If you're so confident that the good in humanity is lost, then why not just leave me to the same fate as Christ?"

"You're not what he was. You've been sent for a different purpose."

"How so?"

"He was an emissary, sent to spread the worship of your Lord and to inspire humans to live in His vision."

"And what might I be then?" Will said.

The vampire took another step closer and the steam pouring off him intensified. He grinned, exposing the length of his hideous fangs. "You're a soldier, destined to destroy all that your Lord deems to be a threat to His own ideals."

Will was instantly knocked back again, another fiery sensation tearing across his torso. He remained seated on the ground as Alulim stepped back into his light. Will glanced down at his wounds. The marks from the first attack had already begun to heal, but the new gouges were even deeper than the first and blood was quickly starting to pool on the ground between his legs. Will turned his attention back to Alulim, who stood over him, the effects of the light begin to wear on him as the skin beneath his eyes began to melt like the wax of a burning candle.

"A soldier sent to destroy you, is that right?" Will said.

"You do not yet have the capabilities for that. But regardless, there is no need for us to be at odds. Come with me and I will teach you everything your maker has withheld from you."

"You've shown me enough." Will looked upward and hastily scanned the dark skies above.

"Looking for your feathered friend?" Alulim said, motioning to the deep gashes across his forehead. "He's been detained."

"Guess it'll just be the two of us then," Will said, thrusting himself to his feet.

The combination of blood loss and standing too quickly hit Will, and everything in front of him swayed as if someone had just spun him around several times then told him to try and stand still. Will steadied himself as best he could and channeled all his adrenaline at Alulim. His light intensified and was near blinding. Alulim shrieked and his ancient skin ignited. Alulim tried to take hold of Will's arm, but immediately withdrew his hand as if he had just tried to grab a hot pan from a stove. Alulim howled louder and Will felt further empowered by the control he seemed to be gaining over his gifts.

Will took a step toward his victim, but as he did, he felt something tighten around his neck and he was instantly yanked backwards to the ground. The object squeezing his throat closed and prevented him from breathing. He struggled to dig his fingers under the object and pry it away from his neck, but it was too tight. He could feel that it was a rope, a thick rope. He attempted to scramble onto his feet, but the rope was pulled tighter as he was dragged through the dirt on his back. The air became difficult to take in and the light he was emitting began to fade. Soon he was too weak to fight the person on the other end of the rope and the dragging stopped. Alulim appeared, standing over him, his face blackened and still steaming in the moonlight.

"Oxygen," he said. "When will they realize what a vulnerability that is."

A thin whistle of air was all Will could manage when he tried to catch his breath. A second vampire, the large one that had restrained Will, appeared over Will as well. He was holding the end of the rope in his hand.

"This is Gus." Alulim said. "I found him less than a century ago on a trip to America. Meanest cowboy I'd ever come across, meaner than most vampires I knew, and quite the cattle wrangler to boot." Alulim looked skyward. "We don't have much time," he said to Gus. "Let's see what he's made of."

Alulim was suddenly on top of Will. He tore the thick rope from Will's neck with his teeth, spat it out, and before Will could draw a breath, Alulim sunk his fangs deep into the flesh of Will's throat. The blood poured into Will's windpipe and gurgled up into his mouth as he fought to cough it up and suck in oxygen. Alulim drank from the holes he had punched, and the blood emptied out of Will, who was able to gasp just enough air to keep conscious long enough to feel the life literally being sucked out of him. Will prayed Alulim would meet the same fate as the last vampire who had bitten him and for a moment, there was a window of hope. Alulim pulled away as he began gagging and Will was certain he would begin to violently vomit out his insides just as the other vampire had, but the gagging was short lived.

Alulim looked down at Will after clearing his throat, as though he knew what Will had expected to happen. "It burns so good," he said, and returned his mouth to Will's throat.

Will fought to stay conscious, but within moments blackness crept in and the sky above him started to fade. The last thing he saw before his body succumbed was the face of the female vampire looking down on him, smiling. Her face was singed, but her beauty still shone through.

# 10

In Will's dream he was hovering over his own body, which looked lifeless – arms folded across his chest the way people do with the dead before nailing the lid of the coffin shut. Will wanted to wake his other being. He tried to reach down and shake himself, he tried to shout, but he was frozen in space, watching over his unconscious self. After what felt like hours, the eyes on his comatose body opened and the dream was over. Will awoke in darkness. His head and body ached the way it had a few years earlier the morning after he and Cormac had swiped a bottle of whiskey from Cormac's house and polished it off. Except instead of the nausea he had felt with the hangover, there was a hunger. He didn't need to vomit, he needed to eat something to heal the discomfort. What that thing was, he didn't know. He tried to sit up, but his head immediately bumped against whatever he was trapped in and his arms were confined by the walls of it.

"Hey," he said, trying to bang his fists against what felt like roughly cut wood.

Something knocked against the lid and then there was the squeak of nails being pried from the wood they were deeply settled in. The lid was removed and revealed a small room, dimly lit by a lantern. It took Wills eyes a few moments to adjust, but he could see enough to know that the silhouette standing over him holding a crowbar was Alulim.

"Where am I?" Will said. His throat was sore when he swallowed.

"Somewhere safe," Alulim said.

"Safe from what?"

"From the elements."

Will sat up and examined the box he had been stored in. "Did you lock me in a coffin?" he said.

"Coffin is such a morbid human term."

"And what do your people call it? A bed?"

"When necessary."

Will started to push himself up, but Alulim placed his hand on Will's shoulder. "Don't move too quickly. You need to eat," he said.

Alulim was correct. A sharp pain sliced through Will's brain and his stomach cramped as though someone had wrapped their hand around his bowels and twisted. He gave up on trying to stand. "Why haven't you killed me?" he said.

"I couldn't bring myself to destroy something so special. Instead, I have granted you the gift of a rebirth," Alulim said.

The response took a moment for Will to process as he searched to understand what the vampire could mean by a rebirth? "No," Will finally said, touching his fingers to the sharpened incisors inside his mouth.

"Don't worry," Alulim said, "they will grow over time, but they're good enough to feed with for now."

"No," Will said. "I won't. I won't become what you are."

"It's far too late for that, and someday soon you will thank me, for I have granted you eternal immortality."

Will ignored the comment. He clasped his hands together and rested his forehead against them. "Lord, just as I have healed others, please heal me now. Let me live again in your grace as the being I once was and rid me of the curse that has been forced upon me."

Alulim waited a few seconds before speaking. "Forsaken," he eventually said.

Will wanted to dispute the comment, somehow prove the vampire wrong, prove that his light would soon triumph over the darkness, but his mind and body were too weakened and he knew his words would be a lie. The vampire had defeated him and his light had been extinguished.

"Fear not," Alulim said, "I am here for you and we are about to embark on quite a journey together. First though, you must feed."

Alulim took Will by the back of his head and gently forced Will to look at him. Will's eyes had begun adjusting to the darkness, but not the way it had been in the past when his human vision would acclimate just enough to make out the shadows of objects. This was more of a warm glow. The area around him had a type of red-orange hue, like the fiery blaze the sun casts on the landscape as it drops below the horizon on a clear evening.

"Are you ready to eat?" Alulim said.

Will made no response.

Alulim turned his attention from Will toward something else in the room. "Bring the soldier," he said.

Will heard someone enter the room from behind him. Alulim released Will's head and stepped to the side. Gus immediately appeared beside him holding a German soldier by the throat. The soldier was barely conscious but his body was trembling. Will could smell something on the soldier that made the back of his tongue tingle with a desire to taste whatever it was, almost the way it would when his mother would place a steaming brisket on the table, but this was a more heightened and ravenous desire.

"Place the throat in front of him and let his instinct do the rest," Alulim said to Gus.

Gus dangled the tall soldier before Will, crooking his neck back by his hair and exposing the quivering Adam's apple. The smell intensified and Will was barely able to control his urge to bite into the man's flesh and taste the savory juices he knew would come flowing out.

"I won't do it," Will said. "I won't kill this man.

"You must," Alulim said. "And besides, he's one of the bad guys, fighting for the wrong side, is he not?"

"I'm not an animal," Will said.

Alulim reached his hand down, and using the claw-like nail on his right index finger, he sliced the soldier's throat open from one ear to the other. Blood immediately began beading along the edge of the cut and a second later it was pouring out of the soldier, who came to life for a few moments as he unsuccessfully struggled to gurgle down a final breath. The blood covered Will's face, running into his mouth and nose, and streaming down the back of his throat. Will recalled the euphoric sensation he had been told morphine provided to wounded soldiers and he wondered how the feeling the blood gave him measured up. His appetite for more was overwhelming and he took hold of the soldier, sinking his small fangs into his throat. Immediately, the pain and sickness Will had felt waned and he began to feel powerful and enraptured by the blood of the life he was draining from the soldier. Every cell in Will's body absorbed the fresh blood and came to life, like a plant that's been starved of water soaking up a heavy rain from the earth encompassing its roots.

"That's the way," Alulim said. "The true circle of life." He ran his nails through Will's hair." Finish that one off and we'll go hunting together for another.

Will wanted to release the soldier, spit his blood into Alulim's face, and tell him he would never again feed on human blood, but he couldn't control his desire to drink and to bleed the soldier dry. And he knew he would want more. He continued to drink until there was nothing but the infrequent droplet of slightly congealed blood forming at the gaping wound. Will pulled his mouth away and realized he hadn't stopped for a breath at all; he hadn't needed to. He looked up at Alulim and his range of vision was greatly improved – not only could he see Alulim and Gus clearly in the dark room, but he could see the entire room clearly. It was smaller than he had sensed in his confused, weakened state. A small room with rounded sandstone walls and a rounded ceiling.

Alulim recognized the look of wonder on Will's face. "This is just the beginning of the powers I have granted you," he said.

Will looked up to respond, but something about Alulim caught Will's eye before he could speak. He pushed the lifeless soldier off of him, taking note of the ease with which he was able to move the body, and stood to further examine the old vampire. "Is it normal that you looked significantly more decrepit before you did this to me?" Will said to him.

Alulim smiled and even his fangs looked less decayed. "It's no illusion, my young comrade. It is your blood," Alulim said. "It went down like poison, but its effect is celestial." Alulim placed his hand on Will's shoulder. "You look rejuvenated as well, but you will need to feed again tonight."

Will looked down at the limp body sprawled on the floor. "What have I done?" he said.

"What you are made to do," Alulim said. "Just as the human feeds on the inferior pig, so does the vampire feed on the inferior human."

"It is not the same," Will said.

"Different only because you are accustom to the human's way of life. The reality of it is that the swine is not an unintelligent species. If you lift an ax to it, does it not fear for and fight for its own life? The pig is not ignorant, it is simply less evolved than the human, just as humans are less evolved than us." Alulim removed his hand from Will's shoulder and spread his arms open as though he were presenting the world to Will. "As I said, the true circle of life."

"The Lord intended for animals to provide for humans. He did not intend for your kind to walk the earth."

"Our kind," Alulim said. He put both his hands on Will's shoulders and looked him in the eyes just as a parent explaining a sensitive matter to their child would. "You have so much to learn, and I will teach you, just as I promised, but the first lesson is the hunt."

Will stepped out of the coffin and Alulim's hands fell off of him as he squatted next to the dead soldier. He lifted the deceased's head onto his lap and placed one hand over the forehead and the other on the corpse's chest. "Leanbh. Leigheas cén bhuairt sin ort. Siúlóid arís sa grásta an Tiarna," Will said.

"He is dead, not injured," Alulim said.

Will ignored the response and repeated his Gaelic plea in an even more impassioned tone, trying to will life back into the carcass. Will waited a few moments and the wounds on the soldier's neck began to heal, but no life returned to him. "I am sorry, my Lord," Will said, hanging his head in defeat.

"Dispose of that," Alulim said, motioning to Gus.

Gus did as he was told, lifting the body off Will and carrying it out of the small room. Will didn't flinch until Alulim again placed his hand on him. "I don't even know your human name."

Will stood to confront Alulim. "It's Will. Named for my grandfather, who was slaughtered by your people. "Before Will could say more, he was distracted by something. It was a smell, very similar to the soldier he had just drained, and it created the same desire in him, the same twinge of thirst and hunger in his mouth.

"Human blood," Alulim said. "That's what you're smelling. Your body needs it and there is some not far."

The urge to run out of the room and prey on the innocent creature teasing his senses was nearly as irresistible as the neck of the soldier had been to him. He forced himself to return his focus to the confrontation with Alulim. "Was it you?" he said.

"Be more specific."

"Was it you who killed my grandparents and chased my parents from their home?"

Alulim smiled. "If it were me, I would not have failed."

A pain pierced Will's stomach again – the pain of forcing one's stomach to go without food for too long, but much greater, and it almost caused him to double over.

"What you are feeling is normal. It will pass after another feeding or two," Alulim said. "Your organs are changing. Some dying off, some learning to digest blood rather than solid food, and already craving more of it. You must feed again soon."

"If I must," Will said, exposing his fangs to Alulim.

Will leapt on him, sinking his fangs into Alulim's neck and knocking him to the floor. Will took note of the enhanced speed and power he possessed, but the exhilaration of it was short-lived. Alulim quickly took hold of Will's arms and pushed Will off of him, sending Will rocketing against the rounded sandstone ceiling, then crashing hard onto the floor. By the time Will landed, Alulim was already on his feet, standing over Will. The pain in Will's abdomen surged again and as he grunted at it, he realized he had a mass of Alulim's flesh in his mouth. He spat it out and looked up at the dominant vampire to see how much damage he had caused. It was already healing and Will knew he shouldn't be surprised by that, but he was. The portion had felt significant, enough to likely kill a human before they could receive medical attention.

"You are nowhere near strong enough to defeat me, or any other vampire yet for that matter." He placed the heel of his foot on Will's neck. "Normally, if one of my progenies attempted that, I would decapitate him. But I understand your confusion and misguided anger."

"You killed my family."

"Technically, they weren't your family at the time. Just an arbitrary family who had taken in your pregnant mother after I had already made plans for you."

"How did you even know about me? And why didn't you come looking for me again?" Will said, the heel of Alulim's foot squeezing his vocal chords.

Alulim lifted his foot from Will's neck and knelt beside him. "A vision. A single vision of your virgin Gaelic mother."

"And how did you locate her?"

"I know the creation of this land as well as you know your way around your childhood home in the dark."

"You could have killed my mother at any time."

"Of course. But not before she came to term."

"And once she did?"

"By that time, I wasn't needed. The people of her village, her own neighbors, were enraged enough by the sin they presumed had led to the bulge in her belly that they were fixed on punishing her themselves. In the name of the church."

Will stared at Alulim, saying nothing, as if waiting for the vampire to continue.

"Or did they not tell you that part of the story?" Alulim stood and began shaking his head and pacing the floor for dramatic effect. "Ah yes," he continued, "the hideous vampires came and ravished your loved ones. But what of the humans, the people they had once called friends, who chased your mother to the home of your grandparents in the first place, intent on making her pay for false crimes committed against their God? Any word of that?" Alulim looked down to Will, who was sitting half-upright, resting on his elbows.

Will said nothing.

"Of course not. Not a word of the men who chased her down with rocks and branches, nor the fact that those men were punished. True, your grandfather may have rescued your mother that night and chased the tyrants away, but it was us vampires who put them to an early grave." Alulim sauntered over to Will and squatted next to him again. "It would appear that humanity is just as lost as I've long believed it to be."

"And what of the vampires who murdered my grandparents and failed to deliver me to you?"

"I dealt with them."

"So they are dead?"

"Destroyed? No. Unlike those animals we call humans, we avoid killing our own kind. But they were punished."

"Punished how?"

"Forced to live off the blood of livestock for a decade."

The fury on Will's face became amplified.

"It's not a pleasant existence, I assure you," Alulim said.

"That's not good enough. My grandparents were good, innocent people. Their deaths should be avenged."

Alulim ginned and nodded. "Vengeance. Such a great motivator."

"Take me to the vampires who did it."

Alulim took Will by the arm and lifted him to his feet. "I told you. You are not yet strong enough to take on a vampire."

"I would have defeated your entire gang in my human form had it not been for your interference."

Alulim moved his face closer to Will so that their noses were nearly touching. "The light in you is gone now, my young progeny. But fear not, I will provide you powers and knowledge beyond what your previous makers did. And I will make a deal with you."

Will pulled his arm from Alulim's grasp. "I'm not ignorant enough to make a deal with the devil himself."

"Your options are very limited, but I will take you to those vampires, all five of them, and you will have your vengeance. When you are ready. Until then, you abide by everything I tell you. I will mentor you in return for your loyalty, and one day you will thank me. Not only for the vengeance you seek, but for everything I will have provided you."

"And why should I trust you?"

"Because you don't have a choice. And if I didn't want you around, I'd have already destroyed you."

Will turned his back to Alulim and walked to the other side of the dome-shaped room, resting his forehead against the wall as he said a silent prayer. "If this is not the path I am to take, my Lord, then please give me a sign. Otherwise, if my purpose is to be a soldier of Your light, then I shall train with this vampire and fight our cause from the inside." He hesitated a few seconds, waiting for any type of indication. When none came, he turned and began to approach Alulim, but the pain wrenched Will's stomach again, causing him to double over, and he hissed involuntarily, just as he had heard the other vampires do.

"You must feed at least once more tonight or you'll be in for a miserable day of rest come sunrise," Alulim said.

"I'll feed, but I won't kill."

Alulim laughed. "It's not optional. The amount of blood you need will drain two humans. But if it helps you to justify it, we are in a time of war. These soldiers will die of bullet holes, if not from the holes of our fangs in their neck."

The pain sliced through Will's torso again and his entire body began to ache. "This is a miserable existence," he said through clenched teeth.

"Once your body completes the transformation, you won't need to feed it as much, and I will introduce you to all the superior wonders of our species." Alulim walked toward the door. "Come now," he said.

The pain had subsided a bit and Will begrudgingly followed. "Where are we?" he said.

Alulim turned just before exiting. "Matmata. This is an underground troglodyte home. Very convenient for our people and one of my favorite places to visit."

"And whose home is this?"

Alulim shrugged. "It is our home now."

"So this is how we live then? Take what we want and slaughter any innocent man who might be in the way?"

"Oh, it's not that extreme. We prefer to be as inconspicuous as possible. It's more fun to remain legend and folklore. Wars and drug addicts make for discreet hunting. Also, the remote, rural villages throughout this continent are idyllic and thus, our legend here is one of great fascination. Many refer to us as Asanbosam. I've always preferred it to the term vampire. Asanbosam has such a primordial quality. And the people of these villages are more of a challenge to stalk than the rest of the world. They themselves are creatures of the night to a great degree, being raised to hunt lions in the dark desert with little to shelter them. Of course, the lack of shelter makes it difficult for us to survive here as well, hence my appreciation for the underground troglodyte dwellings."

Will absorbed this, struggling to make sense of just how drastically his existence had changed.

Alulim patted him affectionately on the arm. "There is much to learn," he said, "and it can't be conveyed in one night. Now let us go hunt."

# 11

The raven hadn't been quick enough to avoid the grasp of Alulim, who came unexpectedly out of the darkness of the desert and snatched the raven midflight as it was darting to the aid of Will. Alulim would have killed the raven – ripped its head and wings off, just out of pure vindictiveness – but he knew the repercussions of doing such a thing. His focus was on the new Messiah, not a quarrel with his guardian. Alulim shoved the bird into a military satchel and after closing it, handed it off to another vampire, instructing him to shove the bag inside the first container he came across. The vampire ran nearly a thousand yards before he gave up on finding a suitable object to confine the bird, and instead found a small tree suitable for smashing the satchel against. The raven exploded on impact inside the bag like a watermelon against concrete. The vampire didn't need to open the satchel to confirm its death – he had smashed the thing with a force that would have killed an elephant – so he turned to sprint back toward the action, wanting desperately to get back in time to see the battle between his master and the man they referred to as the Parousia, but the vampire was stopped suddenly. Not willingly, but not by a physical restraint either. The vampire wanted to run, he was willing himself to do so, but he couldn't. His limbs would not move. They weren't limp, just stuck mid-stride, as if his entire body had been frozen in an invisible block of ice. Then, within seconds, his body was turning back to face the tree he had bludgeoned the raven against.

It was then that he saw what had become of the bird when he tried to destroy it, and he immediately regretted not listening to Alulim.

"What is your name?" the being standing over the satchel said.

The vampire could hear the question, but the undersized mouth of the creature didn't actually move, and it was as if the vampire was reading the thing's mind rather than hearing spoken words. At first the vampire thought that the being's cranium was unusually large, but then realized that the skull was normal sized, it was the rest of it that was unusually undersized; there was no fat or muscle on it, just a frail looking boney face and frame concealed in a dark, moss color skin, almost camouflaged against the tree and the darkness of the night. Even with the vampire's superior vision, he wondered whether he would even be able to spot the dark creature, had it not been for the faint glow that seemed to silhouette the figure and made the vampire question whether it was a real being he was looking at or an apparition. Its eyes were also oversized and they lacked color; just two large, almond-shaped, black masses seated above where the nose on a human or a vampire would have been.

"What is your name, vampire?" the being said telepathically.

"Evangelos is my vampire name."

"Was it not your human name?"

"Evan was my given Celtic name, but my maker prefers the old Greek form of Evangelos."

"Your maker? Do you not consider God your maker?"

"God gave me life. Alulim granted me the eternal afterlife."

The being moved closer to the vampire. Not walking, but gliding. It reached a gangly finger toward the vampire and the vampire wanted to run, scared of what the creature might do to him, but he couldn't move. His entire being was paralyzed. Alulim told me not to kill that bird, but it was just a stupid bird, the vampire thought.

"Who are you?" the vampire said, groaning out the words due to the inability to move his mouth and tongue.

"I've gone by many human names. Some have called me Angelus, others Michael, and most recently Eamon. But henceforth, it appears I will be known as Evangelos."

"Why are you stealing my name?" the vampire said.

"I am stealing more than just your name," the being said. It placed its finger on the middle of the vampire's forehead. "You have done us a great service."

"What are you doing to me?" the vampire said, before his eyes went white and he was unable to speak at all.

The spot on the vampire's forehead where the being had placed his finger glowed for a moment, and then the being vanished. The vampire's irises returned to the crystalized hazel they had been just moments before and he was free – he could move his limbs again – but his instincts were altered. The voracious desire for bloodsucking was nonexistent, and the sense of urgency to dash back and assist his master, Alulim, had also disappeared. Instead, he felt a sudden responsibility to look after the man Alulim had gone to hunt for, an obligation to prevent Alulim from killing him.

When he returned to the spot where he had left Alulim there was no sign of him. He raced in the direction he had seen Alulim send the other vampires, including the large one named Gus and the pretty one named Satiah, unsure where they might have wound up, but within a few hundred yards he came upon a few small pools of congealing blood in the dry sand. He surveyed the dark expanse of the desert, but sensed nothing, so he ran to the troglodyte home Alulim had claimed as his own. When he arrived, he jumped into the deep courtyard outside the burrowed home and found both Gus and Satiah hovering outside the entranceway. Satiah spotted him first.

"Evangelos, where have you been?" she said.

"I took care of the bird, just as Alulim commanded."

"How long does it take to hide a sack?"

"In the desert my options were limited," he said.

"And you didn't kill it?" she said, taking a step toward him.

"Not that I am aware of."

"You would know if you had."

Evangelos tried to peer inside the doorway of the underground home. "Has Alulim killed him?"

"What do you care?" Satiah said. "It is not your concern."

Evangelos considered the question, needing a way to get inside the home without alerting the other vampires that he had come to save the victim. He stared into Satiah's eyes with a look of hungry determination and exposed his fangs. "I want some of his blood."

Satiah glanced at Gus, who had stood silently by the doorway, and nodded at him. He stepped toward Evangelos, as if to reinforce the fact that no one was getting through the entranceway.

"I just need to try it. Aren't you curious how the blood of something so divine tastes?"

"It would destroy you, just as it destroyed the other young one," Satiah said.

"But I just want a small taste, please." Evangelos took hold of Gus' hefty bicep in a pleading manner.

Gus backhanded him with such force that Evangelos left his feet and when he landed, he slid across the entire diameter of the courtyard, but Evangelos realized something as the action unfolded – his reflexes had quickened. He had seen the blow coming from the elder, previously more agile vampire, and could have countered if needed. Satiah would have quickly intervened though and then he would be of no help to the man Alulim had taken captive – the man he was inspired to protect, yet had never even met. Evangelos climbed to his feet, examining the way Satiah and Gus were guarding the entrance to the underground home. It was in that moment Evangelos realized why they were guarding the home so vigilantly. Alulim didn't need protection from anything, he simply didn't want to be interrupted.

Evangelos walked back toward the other two vampires. "He's turning him, isn't he?" Evangelos said to Satiah.

"Leave us," she said.

"But we should stop him."

"No one stops Alulim." Satiah walked toward Evangelos and they met in the center of the courtyard.

"Convince him otherwise then," Evangelos said.

"And why would we do that? What business is it of yours?"

Evangelos quickly considered a response she might find reasonable. "We don't even know what it is," he said after a few moments. "What if what it becomes is not a vampire, but some type of hybrid? Something even more powerful than Alulim?"

"Alulim would not let that happen."

"But what if he hasn't thought of it? Perhaps he can't fathom the idea of creating a vampire superior to him?"

Satiah considered the idea and Evangelos thought he had broken through, at least enough for her to interrupt the ritual going on inside the house, potentially providing him the opportunity to free the being.

"I will not question Alulim, now be gone," she finally said.

"Then it will be your burden to carry if Alulim is harmed."

Satiah's backhand was much swifter than Gus' and Evangelos never saw it coming. She was also significantly stronger than the much larger Gus, and Evangelos hit the wall while still airborne. The impact would have killed a human. Before Evangelos could shake off the sting of it and climb to his feet, she was already standing over him.

"If you ever speak at me like that again little vampire, I will rip out your fangs and impale your eyeballs with them. Do you understand?" she said.

Evangelos nodded, his mind still hazy from the impact.

"Now get up and come inside with me." She took him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him to his feet. "You will present your concerns to Alulim yourself, so that when he wants to unleash his furry on someone, he can decapitate you."

Evangelos followed her to the entrance.

"Gus, let no one else inside," Satiah said as they entered the home.

When they arrived at the door of the room, Alulim stood over an open casket, arms folded, staring down at what lay inside of it. Satiah and Evangelos trod as gently as they could, but Alulim heard them and spoke without looking in their direction. "What could be so important?" he said.

Before Satiah could answer, Alulim's attention turned to Evangelos. "Is it the bird?" he said.

Before Evangelos could reply, Alulim burst across the room and took Evangelos by his throat, lifting him off the ground. "I gave you one simple job and you have failed, haven't you?"

"That is not the issue, my lord," Satiah said. "The bird has been disposed of properly."

Alulim released Evangelos and turned to confront Satiah. "Then what is the issue?"

"The Parousia, lord. Has he been turned?" she said.

"The process has begun, yes." Alulim walked back to his original spot overlooking the casket. "And I am like a Catholic schoolboy on Christmas morning, so anxious to see what will come of it."

"That is why we have disturbed you," Satiah said. "Evangelos has raised what I fear may be a valid concern about resurrecting this man."

"Which is?"

"As you said, we don't know what will come of it. We have no way of knowing what might come of it. What strength and powers he may possess."

Alulim smiled. "And you fear for my wellbeing?"

"Of course, my lord," she said.

"And look at poor Evangelos," Alulim said, "staring at our new progeny with such angst."

Evangelos was studying Will's lifeless body, confused by the peculiar sense of grief he felt over the man he had never seen before.

Alulim approached Evangelos and took his hand. "Or is it jealousy you are feeling?"

This caught Evangelos' attention.

"Until now, you were my newest and youngest progeny," Alulim continued. "Are you concerned our new addition will distract me from your continued education?"

Evangelos considered the proposal. The idea made more sense than any excuse he was able to concoct to explain his interest in the mysterious man in the casket, so he presented Alulim with a shameful grimace and nodded.

Alulim took him by the shoulders. "No need for humiliation, Evangelos. But I chose to give you the gift of rebirth for a reason, just as I have done with all my progenies. I'm very discerning, and the gift of a rebirth and all the powers granted along with it is not something I grant haphazardly. If it were, we'd have thousands of reckless vampires desecrating the earth and feasting on the flesh of our food source." Alulim peered down at Will. "Regardless of whatever unique powers this creature may possess, he will be a vampire, just as we are vampires. I will edify you together and you learn together, just as two young brothers might learn to survive in the wilderness. As a team."

Evangelos was overcome by a sudden feeling of responsibility for the well-being of the stranger in the casket. "A younger brother?" he said.

Alulim smiled. "Exactly, my son."

"I shall watch over him with all the fervor an elder brother should feel for his younger sibling. I will protect him with my life." Evangelos turned to catch Alulim's gaze. "From anything that may ever want to do him harm."

# 12

Will and Alulim exited from the room where Will's casket was, into a very similar space – same dome shape, same sandstone walls and ceiling, and a lack of windows that cloaked the room in darkness – except it was slightly larger and the furniture and the pots indicated that it had once been used as a kitchen. From there, they exited into a courtyard. They were standing in a deep pit in the ground surrounded by sandstone walls lined with entranceways into cave-like homes similar to the one they had just stepped out of. The moon was large and bright in the sky and Will knew by the size and shape of it that a few days had passed since he had been attacked by Alulim. Will's eyes adjusted to the change in lighting and though he still had superior vision, he felt it had suffered a bit as a result of the moonlight, as though the darker it was, the stronger his eyesight was.

In the middle of the circle stood another figure and Will recognized her immediately as the beautiful female vampire he had battled with. Even from ten yards away he could see the detail of the scars he had left on her face. They had healed some, but were still noticeable. Even with the scars though, her beauty wasn't compromised and she was the most striking creature Will had ever seen. Alulim walked to her and stroked her long black hair with his unsightly fingernails.

"The two of you haven't been formally introduced," Alulim said to Will. "This is Satiah."

She stared at Will as he cautiously approached the two of them, unsure of whether Satiah might want revenge for the marks on her otherwise flawless skin. Her eyes were locked onto his and he recalled what he felt when he last stared into them as Alulim drained his blood – like they were the kindest eyes that had ever held his gaze. He briefly considered the irony in this as he came to a stop about two yards away from them. She stood just an inch or two shorter than him and he didn't have to look down to maintain eye contact. Alulim spoke again before either of them could.

"Satiah, this is Will."

Neither of them spoke, each waiting for the other to make the first move or speak the first word.

"Come now," Alulim said, "let's not hold grudges."

"I hold no grudge," Satiah said. "I've simply never met anything like him before."

"Funny," Will said, "I was thinking the same thing about you."

Satiah's brow furrowed. "You have met several vampires. That is all I am."

Alulim stroked her hair again. "She is special, this one. And a tad modest at times. Of all my progenies, Satiah is my treasure." Alulim kissed her on the temple with his wrinkled lips, then returned his gaze to Will. "Her scars will heal, but you should apologize nonetheless."

Will knew by the tenor of Alulim's voice and the firmness in his eyes that it wasn't a suggestion, it was a command designed to demonstrate his dominance. Will didn't react immediately and an awkward silence sat between them for several seconds before Will conceived his response.

"I may be able to do you one better than that," Will said. He took two steps closer to Satiah so their faces were just inches apart and placed his hands over the abrasions on her cheeks.

He stared into Satiah's eyes, waiting for her to flinch as he gently pressed his palms against her cool skin, but she didn't move. She allowed him to proceed and he could see the calm in her eyes as she looked back at him. "I won't hurt you this time," he said.

"I know," she said.

Will recited the same Gaelic invocation he always used in his attempts to heal. Through his fingers, Will saw the therapeutic glow, and when the glow faded, Will removed his hands and examined Satiah's face. Using the backside of his index finger, he gently stroked the smooth skin between her jaw and cheek bone. "Good as new," he said.

Will took a moment to enjoy the awestruck look in her eyes before turning to Alulim with a triumphant smile, but before Will could take a moment to bask in his success, Alulim's hand was thrust between him and Satiah as he took hold of Satiah's face and turned it in his direction.

"Astonishing," Alulim said, examining the flawless flesh, then erupted in laughter; an animated, evil cackle with fiery eyes and exposed fangs. He paused for a moment. "This is too perfect," he said, before exploding with laughter again.

Will looked to Satiah, whose cheeks were still being squeezed between Alulim's thumb and forefinger, for a reaction, but all he found was the continued calm in her eyes. Will's concern was diminished as well, his gaze once again lost in hers, until the cackling abruptly ended and Alulim released his grip on Satiah's face.

"Enough of this adjournment," Alulim said, and took Will by the arm. "You and I must hunt."

"I too must feed, my liege," Satiah said.

"Then you will hunt with the others. I don't want any interference in our training."

"I'd prefer it if she would join us," Will said. "You can't expect to teach me everything on your own."

Alulim leaned his face into Will's. "I will teach my progenies exactly how I see fit. Just as I did with Satiah centuries upon centuries ago. Just as I will do with you."

The hunger pain pierced Will's gut and he was in no condition to argue, but refused to be bullied in front of Satiah. "And do I have no say in how and whom I prefer to learn from?"

"No you do not," Alulim said immediately. "And defiance is not part of our deal."

"He is right," Satiah said to Will. "Alulim is a great teacher. Everything I know I learned from him."

Alulim wrapped his arm around Satiah's waist and pulled her toward him. "Yes," he said, and tickled the rim of her ear with his slimy red tongue. "I have educated her in many carnal activities." He kissed her neck and squeezed her left breast with his clawed hand "Isn't that right, my love?"

"It is," she said, "though I don't know if Will is interested in receiving that type of education."

"I am not," Will said to her. "Not from Alulim anyway," and he searched for a reaction in Satiah's eyes, but she remained stoic, locked in her master's grip.

Alulim released her and examined Will for a moment. "Fear not," he said. "The world is your playground now and there are many toys at your disposal. Almost nothing is off limits to you. Almost," he repeated, his eyes wandering back to Satiah.

"I'm not interested in your heathen lifestyle," Will said in a labored whisper just before an uncontrollable hiss of pain seethed through his clenched fangs. He hunched over, leaning on his knees for support. The pain in his abdomen was pulsating through his limbs and his thoughts quickly shifted from Satiah's beauty to the taste of the soldier's blood he had swallowed. The desire for more of it was proving difficult to bear, and Will wondered for a moment how his craving for human blood compared to that of an alcoholic's dependence on whiskey – much like the middle-aged men in his village he had watched die over the years of painful liver disease, each time thinking to himself, why don't they just stop hitting the whiskey so often?

"Find Gus and hunt with him this evening," Alulim said to Satiah. "I've got to get this Irish lad some warm blood before his insides start to rot." He gave Will a pat on the pack and leaned down to speak in Will's ear. "You might be able to heal others, but I'm willing to bet you can't heal yourself. Something you might want to keep in mind." He gave Will another pat on the back, then lifted Will upright.

Will hadn't heard her leave, but Satiah was no longer in sight.

"Are you hungry?" Alulim said.

Will nodded.

"If you were at full strength, you'd be able to leap out of this crevice, but for now we'll have to make do with the stairs."

The pain had subsided a bit and with Alulim's assistance he was able to move swiftly up the narrow stairs, which lined the wall of the deep burrow and ran upward along one half of it until they reached the surface.

"The cravings are less painful once the transformation is complete," Alulim said. "I could go for days without a meal and be in less pain than you are now. I wouldn't enjoy it, but I could do it."

Will stopped and dropped to his knees. "Is it possible for a vampire to vomit?" he said, just before leaning onto all fours and starting to dry heave.

"Your body is experiencing significant change. Anything is possible, but the sooner we feed it, the faster this will all be behind you."

Alulim was suddenly silent and Will glanced up to see what was happening. He found Alulim sniffing at the air, much like the dogs in Will's neighborhood would do when a ham was boiling in a nearby house.

"Ah, there it is," Alulim said. "Fresh meat. And a plump one at that. I can smell the fat in his blood. The glutton would probably be dead in a year anyway."

"That doesn't provide me any comfort," Will said.

"He's no more than a few hundred yards off."

"I won't make it that far," Will said.

"It sounds daunting based on your former human experience, but it will take a vampire just seconds."

"I can't even stand." Will retched at the ground again, then dropped to his side and rolled onto his back. "Take me now, Lord. Please," he said, staring up at the night sky.

Alulim kneeled down beside him. "This is only a temporary state. Close your eyes for a moment and inhale deeply through your nose. Try and ignore this anguish for a moment and tell me what you smell."

Will tilted his head back against the ground, lifting his nose toward the sky. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the smell of the arid desert air around him. Much like his vision, his sense of smell had been heightened. He recognized all the immediate, familiar odors of the dusty earth that had baked in the sun all day, and the scorched plant life. There were other smells, things he may have noticed before but not as intensely. Like animal dung and gunpowder, but there was also the smell of blood. Once he recognized it, it overwhelmed his olfactory senses and it was the only scent he was aware of. His taste buds erupted with the saliva of desire, as if he hadn't eaten in days and someone nearby were frying up a fatty strip of meat. But it was even worse than that. Will craved the blood in a way he had never hungered for food, not even at his hungriest moment, and before he could think much more about it, he was on his feet.

"Shall we race?" Alulim said.

Without so much as a nod, Will was off, letting his nose lead him, and within seconds they were there, standing over a soldier who sat propped against the trunk of a small tree, a syringe of morphine jetting out of his arm. Alulim had been right, he was stout – his second chin rested on the collar of his coat and his gut stressed the buttons of it to the point where one or two were ready to pop off.

The man looked up at the two vampires in a drug haze. "Who are you?" he said, more out of general curiosity than of actual concern.

Will recognized the cockney accent and examined the soldier's uniform. "He's on my side. He's British," Will said to Alulim.

"Excellent," the soldier said with a snicker. "An ally. Now I won't have to kill you." The soldier sluggishly adjusted the base of his coat to expose his pistol.

"Look at this man," Alulim said. "He is a degenerate, just waiting to die. Either by needle or by hamburger. Put him out of his misery."

Will didn't have the resolve to argue with Alulim. He wanted the man's blood so uncontrollably that Alulim's argument was justification enough. Before the soldier could understand what was happening, it was too late to even consider pulling his pistol. Blood flooded his esophagus as Will bit into it and all the soldier could do was gurgle a final expression of fear before the rapid blood loss anaesthetized and then killed him.

"A fatty, morphine-laced treat," Alulim said. "How delicious for you."

When Will was finished, he remained kneeling over the body for a minute, studying his victim.

"Even if you could revive him, which we know you can't, he's clearly not worth it," Alulim said.

Will wasn't considering that though. Unlike his first victim, Will had no desire to try healing the soldier. What Will was assessing was the lack of guilt he was experiencing. The blood his body was digesting made him feel exceptional – stronger, quicker, and even happier than he ever thought possible – and the only afterthought he had regarding the fleshy, dead mass beneath him was, the world is no worse off without this man in it.

The thought alarmed Will. It was the first malicious feeling he had toward another person, at least that he could remember. He reconsidered it, but found it wasn't something he had simply told himself in order to justify his actions – he believed it, even though he didn't want to.

"It feels just a little more natural this time, doesn't it?" Alulim said.

Will said nothing as he continued to examine the dead body, searching for the remorse he lacked. Alulim knelt beside him. "The transformation you're experiencing is not merely a physical one," he said. "It is emotional, spiritual, psychological. It is your entire being evolving, seeing the world from a more enhanced perspective. Dormant areas of your mind are being awakened, Will."

Will stood, never taking his eyes from the corpse, and Alulim stood with him.

"You have spent your entire life in search of enlightenment," Alulim said, "and now I have granted it to you."

Will lifted his head to face him, but as he did, Alulim's attention suddenly snapped in the other direction, like a stolid dog jumping to attention at the hint of an unfamiliar footstep.

"What is it?" Will said,

Alulim raised his hand to Will in a shushing motion and as he did it, Will heard it too and his senses went on alert. The sound he heard was the gentle crunch of sand, and a second later there was another, then two more almost simultaneously, and Will understood that there were two sets of footsteps. He examined the area surrounding them, but saw nothing in the dark, barren land for as far as his night vision would allow.

"Where are they coming from?" Will said in a soft voice.

"They're still a good distance off. Soldiers on patrol, probably looking for this sloth." Alulim kicked the dead man. "They're no threat to us, but it's a fine opportunity. You'll need to eat again before dawn and I wouldn't mind a bite myself."

"How often will I need to do this? How many bodies per night?"

"Once the transition is complete, a few times a week. More if you like, less if you ever have to."

Will detected the familiar smell of warm blood in the air. Like a dehydrated tourist trapped in the desert and given a pitcher of ice water, Will felt he could not drink enough of it. "Will the cravings ever cease?" He said.

"Diminish? Yes. Cease? Never."

Will exposed his fangs, readying to pierce more human flesh with them, just as the morphine addict had needed to pierce his own flesh with the needle. "I will never forgive you for this curse you have forced upon me," he said.

"In time you will not only forgive me, you will thank me," Alulim said, then dashed off in the direction of the footsteps.

Will followed suit, fangs primed.

# 13

Will drained the unsuspecting soldier, just as his new master had commanded. Alulim had been right, the two soldiers must have been out on patrol – they had been spread out, likely combing the area for their morphine-addicted comrade. Judging by the faint sound of Alulim sucking out the blood of the other soldier, Will estimated that he and Alulim were about eighty yards apart from one another. As Will leaned back into the soldier's neck for one last draw of whatever blood might be left, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He assumed it was Alulim, so he turned without alarm to find another man standing over him. Will took the man by the throat as he rose to his feet and tackled him to the ground. Will showed his fangs, prepared to take yet another victim, but the man quickly drew his own fangs as well.

A vampire, Will thought.

"Correct," the other vampire responded, "and it appears you can't yet tell the difference."

His mouth wasn't moving though and Will immediately knew what had happened. The other vampire had sensed his thoughts, and Will had done the same to him.

You can read my mind? Will thought, testing the theory.

Yes, and you hear my ideas as well, the other vampire replied.

Is this a gift you've had for long?

The other vampire rose to his feet and they stood at eye level with each other. This is the first time I've experienced it, the vampire silently communicated to Will.

Will opened his mouth to reply verbally, but heard the other vampire's concern – I don't want Alulim to hear us, it said.

Will closed his mouth. "Who are you?"

My name is Evangelos and whether you believe me or not, I am your only true friend right now.

Will's face crinkled with confusion but he had no clear thoughts for Evangelos to interpret.

I can't explain what happened because I don't exactly remember, Evangelos went on, but at some point around the time you were being turned by Alulim, something changed inside me. My intense loyalty to Alulim was diminished, as was my thirst for human blood, and it has been replaced by this unyielding sense of obligation to ensure that no harm befalls you.

A little late for that, Will thought.

Even if I had been tasked with this duty before Alulim attacked you, there would have been nothing I could have done to stop him. And if some great power to stop him in the future has been bestowed upon me, then I am not yet aware of it.

Wills thoughts in response were about what Evangelos expected them to be – questions about why it all was happening, what it all meant, and begging God for an answer or a sign – but Evangelos didn't comment on them. Partly because he didn't have the answers to those questions either, and partly because he wanted his new brother to have a moment of privacy to take it all in. He waited a few moments for Will's mind to relax a bit, then interrupted.

I don't even know your name.

It's Will.

What exactly are you, Will? Alulim referred to you as the Parousia. Is that true?

Alulim believes that I am a solider of God. Will reconsidered the thought. Or that's what I was anyway, he added.

And that is why Alulim was so desperate to turn you.

Yes, and now it appears the Lord has stolen you back in exchange, Will thought with a smile.

So it appears. Evangelos returned the grin. Did you have any unique abilities as a human, Will?

I could heal the wounded and read the thoughts of others. Sometimes I had visions in my dreams. Premonitions.

And now?

It seems I can still heal flesh wounds, but beyond that I am not sure, Will responded.

Your abilities will return, the transition period takes time. Part of your mind still thinks it is dead, but it will awaken, just as the rest of you has.

How do you know this?

Evangelos could sense the desperation in Will's question and could hear whispers of the deeper thoughts within Will, struggling to accept the fate of taking lives rather than salvaging them.

Because I had an ability as well, Evangelos reassured him, which I regained.

And what ability is that?

Before Evangelos could respond, his attention was distracted by something. The shadow of a figure stepped between them. It was Alulim.

"Hello my lord," Evangelos said.

Alulim examined him for a moment. "What are you doing here?" he said.

"I was hunting and smelled the spill of blood. I found Will here feeding."

Alulim briefly examined the corpse on the ground, then turned his gaze to Will. "Well done. You must feel strong now."

Will nodded.

"So you have met Evangelos."

Will again confirmed with a nod.

"I had hoped to formally introduce you myself, once your transformation was complete and your emotions had balanced out." Alulim presented Evangelos with a chastising look before addressing Will again. "But since you've already met, Evangelos here can relate a bit to what you are experiencing. It was only a year ago that I granted him immortality. He will serve as your confidant and I will continue to tutor you both."

What if he can read our minds as well? Will thought.

If he could, I'd be dead already, Evangelos replied.

"Let us return to our sanctuary," Alulim said.

"So is this all there is to your existence then?" Will said. "Sleep all day, kill for blood at night, repeat the cycle?"

Alulim looked at Evangelos and snickered. Evangelos played along and shook his head at Will in a condescending manner.

"Slow down, young man," Alulim said. "There is much more to this afterlife than hunting and hibernating, but your education will start with how to do those two things well. They may sound simple, but there are rules, and though we are immortal beings by definition, you must understand that nothing is completely beyond the reach of destruction, not even this earth."

Alulim waited for a response from Will, but when he said nothing, Alulim began walking off. "Now let us go."

Will and Evangelos proceeded to follow, but Evangelos stopped abruptly. He heard something in Will's thoughts, something that gave him pause. Will was a few steps ahead and looked back with a quizzical expression. What is it?

I heard your desire and you better get thoughts like that out of your head if you want to survive.

What desire?

About Satiah. She belongs to Alulim.

I have no desires for Satiah.

But I heard you –

Alulim's booming voice interrupted from off in the distance. "Where are my pupils?" he said.

I'm not joking, put those thoughts out of your mind for good, Evangelos communicated to Will, then darted off in Alulim's direction.

When they returned to the courtyard of their underground dwellings, it was quiet. The three vampires jumped down into the courtyard, but not before Will paused to consider the ten yard drop.

"This is nothing," Evangelos said from the base of the courtyard looking up at Will. "You'll get used to the lack of gravitational limitations quickly."

Will took his word for it and stepped off the edge. He didn't fall like a rock to the bottom the way he would have as a human. Instead he almost floated down, as though he were wearing an invisible parachute. Alulim walked into the entranceway of the home Will's casket was in and Evangelos nodded in that direction, motioning at Will to follow.

You must listen to him, at least for now, Will heard Evangelos instruct.

Will complied. When he entered the room where the casket was he found Alulim standing over it.

"You must rest now," Alulim said.

"And where will you and Evangelos go?"

"Hunting."

"But you've already fed," Will said.

"Not for food."

"Then what?"

Alulim motioned to the casket. "You will be safe in here until I return."

Will wished Evangelos had come inside with them so he could interpret his thoughts and maybe gain some understanding of what was happening. He could feel the fatigue setting in and didn't have the energy to defy Alulim, but he hesitated getting into the casket, hoping his lack of cooperation might encourage Alulim to coax him into the casket by providing more information, but it proved ineffective.

"Do you not subscribe to the seven virtues, young Will?" Alulim said.

Will gave a questioning look.

"Patience is the only one I have any personal use for," Alulim continued, "and I urge you to exercise a bit right now. Everything will come in time, but for now, your only concern is letting the changes inside you take their course."

Will stepped into the casket and lied on his back, and Alulim placed the lid over him. It was quiet then and Will could sense that Alulim had left him. Will closed his eyes.

In Will's dream there was fighting, but the visions were not consistent and they didn't have the same feel of a premonition like the ones in the past had. There were hints of the human casualties – mass casualties – which he had been subjected to in previous dreams, the ones that had lured him into the war, but then there were other battles being fought; visions that kept disrupting the normal warfare in his mind, with hints of strife between beings that were not human. Before Will was awoken, he saw a vision of vampires being slain, innumerable, very human-looking beings with elongated fangs, burning in a sea of desert fire. In this part of his dream though, Will felt as though he were there in some way, but how he was not sure. He may have been one of the vampires burning in the flame, or he could have been the one setting them ablaze, or he may have just been a witness to the event, but he knew he was present. Before he could understand how, the lid to his casket opened and when he opened his eyes Satiah was standing over him.

"Alulim will be back just before dawn," she said.

Will nodded as tough he understood why she was relaying the information to him.

"That leaves us with less than one hour human time," she said.

She dressed like no woman Will had ever encountered. Her top was simply a black men's undershirt, tank top style, which flattered her shape and hugged the curve of her modest breasts. He hadn't noticed her black combat boots until she placed them on the edge of the casket, one at a time, to remove them. After the boots, she removed the camouflaged cargo pants she was wearing, followed by the tank top. She was not wearing undergarments and it was the first time Will had seen the private flesh of a woman. She climbed into the casket and straddled Will, her knees pressing into the side of his thighs as she squeezed them between his legs and the interior wall of the casket. Will's hands sat idle, unsure of how or where to touch her. He regretted ever feeling guilty about being able to enter the thoughts of another and wished he had the ability to hear her thoughts so he could interpret her desires. She stared down at him with intense yet soft eyes, as if waiting for him to do something. The desire to put his mouth on her breast was nearly as strong as his desire to drink human blood, but as Will lifted his head toward her, she quickly took him by the hair and tilted his head back against the casket, then leaned down and sank her fangs into his neck. He made an effort to thrust her off, not just because of the sting that radiated down his right arm as she pierced the muscle in his neck, but for her own safety. She was too strong for him though, and as she suctioned her lips around the holes she had made and began to swallow the blood bubbling out of them, Will struggled to speak.

"It will poison you," he said.

She ignored him and continued to slurp at the wounds in his neck, but not with the normal voracity of a vampire. Satiah was drinking, not sucking, not working to drain his body of its blood, but simply enjoying a taste. Will stopped fighting and submitted himself to her. He gently placed his hands on her outer thighs and tactfully slid them upward to her hips where he rested them for a moment before repositioning them on her buttocks. He paused again, waiting to see how she might react, and when there was no reflex Will began to lightly massage the firm flesh. Satiah's grip on his hair loosened and he felt her nails caressing his scalp, then the sensation of her mouth sucking against his neck was replaced by the touch of her tongue against the wounds, methodically licking the trickle of blood from his neck. Adrenaline coursed through Will's body and her moist tongue sent a tickle of pleasure rushing through his stomach and into his groin. Will grew bolder, wrapping his fingers around her buttocks, just within reach of tickling her most modest parts. Her body responded, her back arching and her rear end slightly elevating from his lap, allowing Will's fingers to reach inside her. Will recalled the stories he had heard the other boys tell after school of how the inside of a woman felt like the moist flesh of a freshly skinned haddock, or the inside of a warm mincemeat pie, even though he knew none of them had experienced it firsthand and were simply regurgitating some nonsensical comments their drunk fathers or older brothers had likely made at some point.

Satiah's tongue traveled up along Will's neck and stopped at his ear, where the tip of it slowly traced the outside, then dipped inside the ear, sending a tingle through him and causing the erection trapped inside his pant leg to throb painfully. Will again attempted to push her away from him and this time she acquiesced. He sat upright and put his mouth on her left nipple, unsure of whether that was something men normally did to women, but obeying his carnal instinct. His fang accidently stabbed the flesh of her breast and she winced.

"Sorry," he said, pulling away from her.

A droplet of blood trickled out of the tiny wound and Will quickly lapped it up. It tingled his tongue slightly and the effect of it hit him like a shot of whiskey – the good stuff.

"Is this what it feels like after drinking my blood?" he said.

"Yours is better, like nothing I've ever tasted. Divine is truly a fitting word."

"And it doesn't make you sick?"

"It's vampire blood now."

"Is it rude to ask a vampire how old she is?"

"I have been a vampire thirty-five hundred years," she said, lifting herself from Will's lap just enough to open his pants.

"Thirty-five hundred?" he said. "You don't look a day over twenty-five, how is that possible?"

She took his rigid erection in her hand and squeezed it mildly, causing Will's shoulders to tense. "You have never been with a women," she said.

Will hesitated. "I never married, so no, I have not."

Satiah guided his manhood inside her.

"Sweet Jeanie Mac," Will said.

Satiah gently rolled her hips forward and back, forward and back. "Bite me," she said.

Will was too overwhelmed to process her command. She pressed his face against her breast. "Bite me and drink the blood, you'll last longer."

Will did as she said, penetrating the flesh of her chest, just above her right nipple.

"Go easy," she said.

Will sucked a few mouthfuls of blood from the punctures, immediately feeling its intoxicating effect, and he recalled a comment Timmy had made to Nora one night at dinner after a few too many whiskies about how he was so drunk he'd be able to go all night. Nora had briefly glanced at Will with a look of horror on her face before smacking Timmy across the backside of his head. Will wondered what they would all think of him now – Timmy, Nora, his parents, and Aisling. A blood-sucking demon defiling a woman who was not his wife.

Satiah became more aggressive, thumping against his lap as though she were riding a horse at full gallop, and Will couldn't recall ever enjoying something more than he was enjoying being intimate with her. She took hold of his face in both hands and looked down at him with eyes that almost made him thankful he was there in that casket, hidden in a cave somewhere in the middle of the desert with just her, vampire or not. The slight whispers of pleasure she uttered grew into moans that made Will worry another vampire might hear them, but his fear was soon displaced by his own pleasure. Satiah kissed him so hard that their fangs stabbed each other's lips, and she held her sharp mouth against his as they both climaxed.

"I need to leave before Alulim comes back." Satiah said, after removing her mouth from Will's and releasing an exaggerated grunt of satisfaction.

She went to stand up, but Will took her by the arm. "So what if he finds us?"

"He may destroy us both if that were to happen."

"Are the two of you married then? Is that the issue?" Will said, releasing his grasp on her.

She stepped out of the casket and began to dress. "Don't be ridiculous. Vampires don't marry."

"So then what is it?"

"There are just certain things Alulim doesn't like to share."

"And what happens when he sees the bite marks on each of us?" Will said, licking the mix of their blood from his lower lip.

"These are nothing. They will close up soon.

Will examined the marks he had left on her breasts just before she pulled the tank top over them and he could see that she was right, they were barely noticeable.

"I am going to wash though. Button yourself up," she said, nodded at his pants, "and I'll cover the casket.

Will stood and fixed his belt. "Where did he go tonight?" he said.

Satiah knelt to tie her boots. "Hunting," she said.

"He told me that, but it wasn't for food. What is he hunting for?"

Satiah ignored the question. She finished with her boots and stepped toward the casket. "Lie down so I can close this," she said.

"What is he hunting for?"

"Something very old and very important to him. Now get down or I will make you get down."

Will did as she said and Satiah pulled the lid over him, but just before the gap between the casket and the cover closed completely Will asked her a final question. "You don't know what he's looking for, do you?" he said.

Satiah paused for a moment. Will couldn't see her face through the gap, but saw her torso lingering there, motionless, contemplating how to respond. Will felt a pang of guilt, concerned he may have hit a sensitive chord and embarrassed her, but before he could apologize she decided on a response.

"I know more than he thinks," she said, then closed the lid.

# 14

Will had been tired, but was unable to sleep after Satiah sealed him back in the casket. He lay in what should have been complete darkness, but night vision provided for a bothersome view of the casket's lid, just inches from his face. Mostly his mind was on Satiah – the feel of her flesh, the way it felt when she was on top of him, and the taste of her blood – and he dwelled for a bit on when he might be able to touch her again. His thoughts gradually transitioned to Alulim and whether running off into the night on a mysterious hunt and leaving Satiah on her own was a nightly occurrence, and from there he wondered again what Alulim was hunting for; what could be so sacred that he wouldn't even share it with Satiah?

Will made an effort to talk to God, hoping to distract his thoughts from Satiah's flesh. He had pangs of guilt for having copulated with her, though he found some justification in the idea that he would never be able to court, marry, or have relations with a human female. "If you take issue with me living this lifestyle, my Lord, then take my life, please," he said. "Because I have no choice otherwise."

There was no response, beyond the fact that he was still alive. Or undead as it were. There was just Will, left to figure out his path, figure out what he was and why, and trying to interpret whatever signs were presented to him; things like the dreams and the raven. And he realized he had forgotten about the raven, then wondered if that was a sign – being abandoned by his guardian angel because of what he had been turned into. The idea of it disheartened Will. He felt suddenly alone. A vampire who didn't want to be a vampire and instead wanted to be righteous, but had been forsaken. Even his family was lost to him. He could never enter their home again and look them in the eye knowing what vampires had done to their parents. Then there was Cormac who, regardless of whether Will were a vampire or still human, wanted nothing to do with him.

Will considered Evangelos and whether he could be trusted, or was simply one of Alulim's many minions. Evangelos had mentioned a special ability he had regained after completing his transformation, and Will assumed that ability must be the telepathy Evangelos had used on him. Will knew that Alulim was suspicious of what he was, and so everything with Evangelos must have been a ruse, designed by Alulim to create a sense of trust between Will and Evangelos in order to get inside Will's mind.

Will lay there in the casket, feeling completely alone for the first time in his life – abandoned, manipulated, and consumed with distrust. The only thoughts that provided him any semblance of optimism were the subconscious ones of Satiah, brought on the by the smell of her that lingered in his coffin and the taste of her surviving in his mouth. Perhaps she was nothing more than a pawn as well, but Will doubted it. It was clear to him how much Alulim treasured her, and Satiah's fear of being caught by him felt genuine. Regardless, he wanted her again, and he wanted to be out of the casket.

He shoved the lid upward and to his right with great ease, knocking it to the floor. Will sat up and surveyed the room. He was alone. With no windows it was impossible for him to tell whether daylight had broken outside, he ventured into the adjacent room, which led to the courtyard outside. Beyond the entrance, he could see the first hint of morning light creating a soft glow in the courtyard and knew he was trapped till nightfall. Short of bloodsucking, Will thought that might be the biggest adjustment – waiting for twilight to enjoy the outdoors and never again feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin, damned to the darkness. He wondered where Satiah and the other vampires hid out all day, then thought of Satiah sharing a room with Alulim in some other underground bedroom, and probably on a bed rather than in a coffin, his archaic mouth tasting all the parts of her that Will wanted to be touching. The thought of it made him crazed. In the middle of the room was a kettle sitting on a small wooden table. Will took it and threw it across the small space with every sinew of his vampire being. It sailed directly into the fire pit stove carved into the wall opposite the entryway. Will didn't bother looking in the direction he tossed the kettle, and he had no concern for where it would land, until he heard it hit the wall. It didn't collide and bounce back across the floor as he had expected. Instead, it thundered against the wall, but then there was nothing but the faint aftermath of crumbling sandstone detected by his hypersensitive hearing. Will turned to see what had happened and found that the rear wall of the fire pit had a hole slightly larger than the circumference of the kettle burrowed through it. He walked over and peered inside. It was an abyss of black. Even with his night vision Will saw nothing but a sea of darkness – an infinite tunnel of murky, dust-filled, underground air. He assumed there must be something in there and wondered whether the kettle smashing through the wall was the sign he had asked for from God.

Will stood and put his boot through the back of the fire pit, just below the existing hole, making it just large enough for a body to climb through. He crawled in and it appeared no one had been in the tunnel, or whatever was, in some time. The dirt floor appeared undisturbed, however, Will smelled something. It was faint and may have just been the remnants of the last person inside, but Will knew that someone had been in there at some point. He crept along on his hands and knees, just barely able to fit within the walls of the narrow tunnel, which descended slightly for about twenty yards before it opened up into a small den just large enough for Will to turn around in and crawl back the way he came in. Will estimated that he must have been about thirty yards below the surface of the desert. He would have been lost without his night vision. Thank God for that, he thought, then quickly regretted being thankful for a vampire ability.

On the floor of the den, pushed up against the wall, Will spotted something. He inched closer and found the object to be about the length and shape of a body. Whatever or whoever it was, it was wrapped in shroud. How many years it had been there, Will was not sure of. It could have been centuries, or even longer, but Will knew the being had been dead a long time because he could not detect the smell of blood. He examined the wrappings more closely and found that most of the body was tightly wound in the cloth, save for the feet, which were left exposed and almost resembled claws due to the gangly toes and sharp nails protruding from them, and the face, which, unlike the rest of the shrouded head, was simply masked by a small cloth. Will removed the cloth to get a look at the face. It almost reminded him of a picture he once saw in a schoolbook of a mummified body, but the structure of the face was a little different, and not just because the face was preserved much better than the picture he saw, but because the face was not quite like any human's he had seen. The mouth was small and the jaw slender, while the forehead and cheekbones were prominent, giving his face the shape of an upside-down pear. The nose was fully intact and sloped to a point that almost curled up at the tip. The eyes were the most unique trait. They were open, which Will found both odd and disturbing, and they were large. It made Will think that the forehead above them and the cheekbones below needed to be oversized in order to accommodate them. Also, there was no iris and the whites of the eyes were missing. The entire eyeball was one big, black pupil.

In the same book Will had seen the picture of the mummified corpse, he had also learned about why this was done to the deceased and how great pharaohs had once been placed in special tombs. He considered whether this could be one of those great pharaohs, or some type of important patriarch. He knew it couldn't be a coincidence that it was laid to rest here, in one of Alulim's dwellings. The being must have been an important figure, and of special importance to Alulim.

Will examined the face one last time before placing the cloth back over it. He wanted to be sure it looked untouched, so he gently tucked the thin linen into the crevices of the facial features, just as it had been when he removed it. As Will ran the tip of his index finger along the edging on the nose, the head moved and twisted onto the right cheek. Will cautiously repositioned the head so that it was looking up, but again it flopped to the side, this time twisting away from the body, and it was then that Will noticed it's unusually long neck had been severed from the body, decapitated. Will scooped a small amount of dirt out of the ground to create a small crater that he could rest the back of the head in so that it wouldn't roll off again. He repositioned the head, doing his best to tidy the wrapping around the neck that had come loose, then placed the cloth over the face again. He assessed his work and determined that no one would detect the disruption unless they looked very closely for it. Before turning around and crawling back out the crudely made tomb, Will gently patted down the being's body, recalling that part of the shrouding ritual involved concealing various types of trinkets or weapons the person may have cherished or might need in the afterlife within the shroud. The being's torso was smallish and Will wondered if it might be a woman, or perhaps an adolescent. As Will ran his fingers along its right ribcage he felt a slight yet noticeable bump just above where the bicep of the being's arm rested. Will tactfully removed the object, trying his best to not permanently disturb the wrappings, yet tearing one of them as he was trying to dig his finger underneath it. It was slight and he hoped unnoticeable. The object he retrieved was a crudely made vial. It was made of a glass-like material and Will assumed it was a discolored mix of blue and purple hues. It was slim, about five or six inches in length, and the shape was similar to the modern vials he was accustom to, excepted for the slightly bulbous contour of the bottom. Will could see the very edge of something poking out from inside. He assumed it was a cork, but when he examined it, he found it to be hollow. Using the tips of his fingernails, he gingerly slid a frail sheet of rolled parchment from the vial, then carefully placed the glass vial on the torso of the corpse, and proceeded to open the parchment with great care. The desiccated sheet crunched and crackled with every movement, but much to Will's relief, it stayed intact. The drawings on the parchment were as crude as the vial they had been stored in, but they had preserved well. They looked like nothing more to Will than something he might have scribbled onto a chalkboard as a young boy. The first imagine was of three upside-down V-shaped objects. The middle V was noticeably larger than the other two and just within it was a picture of some type of creature, perhaps an animal. It almost resembled a goat Will thought, due to the hornlike features. There were no colors, just dark shapes on the light parchment surface. The drawing next to it was of a hand pointing at something, or at least that's how it appeared to Will. It looked to be an index finger and thumb, both pointing downward. They were attached to a wide wrist and about half a forearm. The index finger was touching something, as if the object was of some importance, but Will couldn't make out what it was supposed to be; it looked like nothing more than a blob of spilled ink.

The final markings on the sheet appeared to be some type of scripting; a brief line of letters or maybe even full words written in a language Will was not familiar with. The urge to slide the parchment into his pocket and place the empty vial back in the shroud was irresistible. Will felt compelled to decipher the writing, find out what it could mean, and hopefully gain an understanding of why Alulim was hiding a beheaded corpse in such a clandestine location, but he didn't want to draw attention to his curiosity if Alulim were to check the vial. Even if he were to confiscate the artifact, Will didn't know who he would be able to trust with it. He wanted to think he could trust Satiah, but he knew it was too soon for that. He studied the shapes carefully, wishing that an eidetic memory was an attribute vampires possessed. He knew he could remember and recreate the drawings, but the script would be difficult – the smallest flaw in his handwriting could change the entire meaning of the message, or even convert it to gibberish. He considered taking it just temporarily, finding something in the underground dwelling he could reproduce the text on, then returning it, but he would need all the time he had before nightfall to find a way to cover the hole he had made in the wall. After a few more moments of scrutinizing the curves and lines of the inscription, he despaired. "Aw, fuck it," he said, and set the scroll inside the back pocket of his pants.

I'll just cover my tracks and play dumb if it ever comes into question, Will thought as he buried the empty vial underneath the shroud exactly where he had found it. He reviewed his work. Satisfied, he turned himself around in the small den and crawled back through the tunnel as he began to contemplate how he would cover the hole he had made without any tools or materials at his disposal. He had to assume Alulim would come to see him as soon as the sun set again, which left him with nothing but whatever was already in the underground dwelling. He considered sliding the casket into that room and concealing the hole with it, then telling Alulim he wanted a change of scenery. He analyzed the idea of jamming the large clay pot he had noticed into the hole, but had no plan for how he would patch and conceal it.

Just as Will reached the opening he smelled something. It was blood, human blood. He crawled out of the tunnel, and climbed to his feet quietly and in a guarded manner, as if waiting to be attacked. He didn't see anyone, but before he could speak he heard footsteps. Two men appeared from the room where his casket was. One of the men was gagged and his hands tied, while the other man stood behind him holding a small sword by his side. The man with the sword was covered is loose clothing and a head wrap that twisted around his neck and concealed everything but his eyes and nose. His prisoner was an older looking man who wore only pants – no shirt and nothing on his feet – and the effects of the desert sun were apparent, especially on his forehead, nose, and shoulders, which were blistered and redder than the warm blood Will could smell inside him.

The man with the sword unraveled the cloth from his neck and freed his mouth. "This is a gift from Alulim," he said, with a thick accent that made it difficult for Will to understand him. He then tilted his neck and pointed to a tattoo a few inches to the left of his Adam's apple. "I am protected, so you cannot feed on me," he said.

The tattoo was very simple – the outline of a circle with a straight line starting in the center of the circle and ending a shortly outside of it. Will gave an inquisitive look.

"I am a messenger for Alulim, not food," the tattooed man said.

Before Will could respond the man looked at the hole in the wall. "What happened there?" he said, motioning his sword toward the mess.

Will took a step toward them. The man aimed the sword at him and became noticeably rigid with fear, while his prisoner appeared too downtrodden and disoriented to concern himself.

"Alulim told me he would send someone after day break," Will said, "and he instructed me not to harm him."

The man nodded and lowered his sword.

"But clearly he forgot to tell you about this," Will said, pointing to the hole. "You were meant to bring materials to repair and conceal it." Will sharpened his tone. "Or do you not have the skillset for this type of work?"

The man's mouth hung open and his eyes darted between Will and the hole as he tried to make sense of the situation. "Alulim only told me to ensure that you are fed."

Will took another step toward him. "Do you or do you not have the skill to repair this?"

The man nodded furiously. "Yes, yes I am able to fix it, but to retrieve the materials," he paused and took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I will return tomorrow and have it done within the day."

"That is not an option. It must be done before nightfall or Alulim will have both our necks when one of the other vampires sees it."

"I don't know if that is possible, sir."

"Make it possible," Will said.

The man nodded and pushed the prisoner out of his way as he rushed for the door, then paused as he was about to exit. "I almost forgot," he said, as he turned back to Will. "Alulim wanted me to tell you that this man is a drunken nomad who I found forsaken in the desert. He should already be dead."

The man walked toward the prisoner, who had fallen to the ground, and stuck his sword through the prisoner's back. The prisoner let out a grunt in the form of a whisper and his back arched like a lobster tail as the sword sliced all the way through his stomach.

"But Alulim instructed me to kill him for you anyway", the man continued. He then placed his boot on the prisoner and pulled the sword out before turning to leave.

"Your canteen," Will said.

The man turned in the doorway. "I will need it."

"Find another," Will said, I would like to wash up.

The man reluctantly removed the canteen from his belt and tossed it to Will.

"I know your scent now," Will said, "and I will never forget it. If you abandon me here to endure Alulim's wrath alone, I will hunt you, I will find you, I will tear off your limbs, and I will leave you for the wild dogs to devour."

The man nodded once, then ran out the door, his head wrap completely unraveling and falling to the floor behind him.

The prisoner rolled onto his back and stared helplessly at the ceiling, waiting for the suffering to end. Will knelt beside him and untied the man's hand and removed the gag from his mouth. Will then removed the cap from the canteen. Blood was bubbling from the man's abdomen and it was difficult for Will to ignore, but he wasn't as hungry as he had been the last time he fed and that made it easier to resist the temptation of blood. Will lifted the man's head slightly and poured a few drops of water against his lips. At first the man ignored it, likely having already accepted his fate and not wanting to delay it, but after a few moments Will leaned the canteen toward his mouth again and the man opened it just enough for the water to pass through his lips. The man wrenched his head toward it and began lapping at the thin stream of water with his tongue like a starved animal.

"Not too much," Will said.

He gave the man another mouthful before pulling the canteen away and resting the man's head back on the ground. The man's breathing strengthened, but after a few deep breaths, he coughed and a little blood splattered out of his mouth and onto the ashy hair covering his chin and chest.

"Please just kill me know," the man said in a raspy voice trying not to choke on his blood.

"What that man said about you, being a drunken nomad, is that true?" Will said.

"I have a family. Grandchildren. I drink only tea."

Will looked down at the helpless man and was reminded of the first time he healed Cormac's eye. It felt like a lifetime ago, and in a way it was a different lifetime, at least for Will.

"Please kill me before you drink my blood. Please," the man said, then began choking on his own blood again.

Will placed his left hand over the man's forehead and his right hand over the wound, and healed the man just as he had healed Cormac as a boy. When Will was done, the man reached his hand to where the wound on his gut had been, and with great trepidation, he lifted his head off the floor and peered over his panting chest to confirm the unimaginable miracle. On his stomach there remained the fresh veneer of blood, streaming down his ribcage like icing over a cake, but the source of it had healed without so much as a scar. The shock of it propelled the man to an upright seated position.

"What have you done to me?" the man said.

"I have healed you," Will said.

Will expected a look of relief or perhaps gratitude from the man, but instead the man turned with a look of scorn.

"You have made me into one of you. An unholy, immortal, outcast of Heaven. A demon." The man rose unsteadily to his feet. "I would rather die and live in the kingdom of Heaven with our Lord and Savior than live an eternity of hell on earth with you."

Will stood and grasped the man's trembling shoulders. "I have not turned you into anything," Will said. "I have simply healed you."

"With the power of the devil," the man said, his voice so raspy that Will could barely make out the words through his thick accent.

"No. It is a divine power and one that I possessed well before I was robbed of my own humanity."

The man's mouth hung agape as his eyes frantically examined Will, as if hoping to find confirmation of Will's divinity in his eyes, chest, or arms. Will gave the man a few moments to process what had happened.

"A righteous demon?" the man said.

"Something like that," Will said.

The man smiled an uncertain smile.

Will tightened his grip of the man's shoulders. "Do you know how to return home from here?" Will said.

Again the man looked bewildered. "You are releasing me?"

Will nodded. He let go of the man's shoulders and squatted to pick up the canteen. "You'll need this," he said, handing it to the man.

The man's eyes welled up. "How may I repay you?"

Will began to shake his head, then had a thought and reconsidered. He pulled the parchment from his pocket, unrolled it, and presented it to the man. "Do you recognize the language this is written in?" Will said.

Squinting his eyes, the man leaned into the parchment so closely that his nose nearly touched it. Though the sunlight outside the door gave the underground home some luminosity, it was still dim and Will wondered if the older man would even be able to see the scribe. Within a moment he responded though.

"It is Hebrew," he said.

"Are you able to decipher it?" Will said.

"Not a direct translation to English, but loosely translated it states, the curse will be broken where it was forged, and the second kingdom shall reign over the land of the rising sun."

"What about the drawings, do they mean anything to you?" Will said.

The man shook his head as he continued to examine the parchment. "No, I'm sorry. Perhaps ancient hieroglyphics. This is a very old document, as I'm sure you already know."

The man's voice was nearly lost. Will returned the parchment to his pocket and patted the man on his back. "Thank you, you best be off if you hope to find shelter before nightfall." Will guided him toward the entrance.

"What about you?" the man said. "Will you survive without food or drink?"

"Don't worry about me," Will said. "That other man will provide me with exactly what I need."

# 15

Alulim stood atop the abrupt cliffs of Zembra Island, four hundred meters above sea level, staring out into the Gulf of Tunis, its dark waters even blacker than the night sky hovering in the atmosphere above. On the horizon behind him, daybreak teased the lands with its early vermilion light.

"Where is she?" Alulim said to Evangelos, who stood a few yards away, facing the opposite direction so that he could monitor the rise of the sun from the east.

"I'm sure she just got delayed, my lord, and didn't want to risk sunrise," Evangelos said.

"She wouldn't let that happen."

"I'm sure she is safe."

Alulim did not reply and so Evangelos abandoned the act of trying to put his mind at ease. They stood in silence and Evangelos watched as the night prepared to quietly slip away. He thought about how close the sun would look when it peeked over the horizon in a few minutes – close enough to run at and put his hand through – then wondered how close he would physically be able to get to the sun before its intense heat finally caused him to combust.

"I should go find her," Alulim said.

"You could try, my lord, but the sun will rise within minutes," Evangelos said, never looking in Alulim's direction.

Alulim was quiet again for a moment and Evangelos went back to his thoughts of the sun, but this time thought of Alulim and wondered how long Alulim would need to be exposed to it before it would destroy him. If it were just for a moment, or even a full minute, Evangelos pondered whether he would be able to hold Alulim down for just that long. Even with Alulim's great strength, if he timed it perfectly and took hold of Alulim in that final instant just before the sun burst over the horizon, would he be able to restrain Alulim just long enough for the sun to put him to his grave?

"I once stood on this same cliff and looked out over this sea, and viewed the coastline of Tunisia in the light of day, long before the land even had a name," Alulim said. "I watched the sun for the last time as it set to the west. Satiah believes that is why I am so drawn to this island."

This caught Evangelos' attention and he turned to face the same direction as Alulim. "You never told me about the night you were turned," Evangelos said.

"I was not turned that night, it was simply the last time I was able to walk in sunlight."

"Do you mean that you were able to walk in sunlight previous to that, my lord? As a vampire?"

Alulim did not immediately respond and Evangelos let the question float out there, hoping Alulim would process it and eventually answer, but instead he changed the subject.

"What could she possibly be doing?" he said, still staring out into the gulf.

"What were you doing on this island during your final sunset, my lord?" Evangelos said.

"Chasing something."

"I don't understand, my lord. What were you chasing and why were you not able to see daylight after?"

Alulim turned to observe the increasing light on the eastern horizon. It stretched toward them, blanketing the rocky peaks of the island and the sea beyond them in a hue of auburn. Within moments the sun would crest over the skyline and its bright rays of light would glimmer off the waves, like stars falling out of the fading night sky and bouncing off the ocean's surface. At least that is how Alulim remembered sunrises on the ocean, and that's how it would need to remain; just a memory. He turned, walked to Evangelos and took hold of his shoulders. "We will continue this discussion in time, child. Now I must retreat below and you must set off to find Satiah. Ensure that she is well and let us all meet just after nightfall in the home Will occupies."

Evangelos again considered whether he was strong enough to restrain Alulim as he fried in the sun, but concluded that it was too much of a risk. Also, there was still much he wanted to learn from the old vampire, perhaps even needed to learn, before seeing him destroyed. Evangelos nodded in confirmation of Alulim's directive. "Yes, my lord," he said. "Rest well."

Evangelos barely finished the sentence before Alulim departed, leaping over the stony ledge of the cliff and disappearing into one of the mountainous island's many deep caves. When he was out of sight, Evangelos returned his attention to the rising sun to find that Alulim had made his escape just in time. The sun broke over the horizon and Evangelos understood why missing out on centuries of sunrises would cause Alulim, or any other vampire for that matter, to lament, and he was thankful he had not met the same fate. Evangelos watched the sun rise in its entirety, appreciating the intricate colors his vampire vision wasn't able to distinguish at night, as the sky around him transformed from black into a violet purple, and then to a purple-blue color he didn't even know the name of, before the bright sphere of the sun became fully visible and set the atmosphere on fire with distorted waves of burnt orange and shades of pink and red he'd never seen anywhere but a sunrise, until it ascended high enough that it gave way to a sky so blue it was the color of cobalt. Evangelos considered the irony that something so beautiful could be so deadly, capable of killing every one of his kind in one moment, then he wondered what he would do if that were to ever happen – if the sun rose unexpectedly too soon one dawn and cooked every vampire that roamed the earth, including Will and Alulim – and he were the only one left. In a way, Evangelos already knew how that felt, to be the only one of your kind to survive a catastrophic event, and he thought back to the explosion at the powder mill he had worked at, slightly more than a decade earlier, before Alulim had turned him. The blast had left a crevice in the earth thirty meters deep and 90 meters wide, but it wasn't the blast that killed most of the men, it was the fire that ensued that had killed all his friends and fellow mill workers.

The boarding house where Evangelos, who was then known simply as Evan, and the other mill workers stayed was located about a five hundred yards from the mill. The warehouse of the mill housed thousands of barrels of blasting powder and when the explosion at the mill occurred, the impact was so strong that it caused damage to the windows and chimneys of homes ten thousand meters away, and debris and machinery from the mill was propelled so far that many considered it a miracle that no one beyond the mill workers was killed. The bigger miracle, however, and the story that garnered even more attention throughout the county, was the fact that Evan had survived. The blast occurred approximately an hour before dawn while all eighteen mill workers were still asleep. What exactly had caused one of the barrels in the warehouse to ignite was unknown, but the fire that erupted within the boarding house moments after was determined to be caused by a gas can that had been blown through the exterior wall and into the kitchen of the house. A trail of gasoline spewed from the spout of the can as it spun through the air, and crashed through the wall, dousing the exterior and interior walls and floor. The timber of the house ignited immediately and before the men knew what was happening, the entire house was ablaze. The blast from the explosion had blown out every window in the house and the flames streamed out of them and climbed to the roof.

Evan had been knocked out of his bed by the blast and was disoriented when the screams from the men on the other side of the house who were already engulfed began. By the time he realized what was happening, he was trapped in his bedroom with his bunkmate. His bunkmate tried to open the door, but the nob was too hot and within seconds the door itself was a wall of fire. Evan turned to the window of their second floor bedroom, but the flames from the outside of the house had already consumed it. He considered diving through it and taking his chances with the fall, but before he could attempt it, his bunkmate hollered. Through the smoke, Evan could see him dancing and flailing around as the fire that had caught his nightshirt scorched him. He fell into the wall and a sea of flames consumed him. Evan wanted to help him, but it had become difficult to breathe. He lifted the collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose and as he did, he saw that the arm of his own night shirt was on fire. He used the sleeve of his other arm to try and stamp it out, but that sleeve caught fire as well. The smoke had become so thick and the flames so intense that Evan could barely see what was on fire, and every time he tried to take a breath it felt as though he were inhaling a hot golf ball down his windpipe. He remembered thinking that the fire engulfing him was hot on his skin, almost like a moderate sunburn, but it didn't hurt, not the way he expected it to after hearing the screams of his bunkmate, but everything after that thought was a scattered haze. He had grown dizzy from the lack of oxygen and in a dying panic, he ran across the inflamed floorboards of his bedroom, took hold of the steaming doorknob, threw the door open, then stumbled down the inferno that had once been the staircase. He landed just in front of the house's front door and was a human bonfire, his nightshirt fully consumed. Evan's final memory before passing out was pulling the front door open and making an effort to run across the blazing porch and hurdle over its three steps into the flame-free soil below them.

The first men to the scene – two brothers from a farm nearby whose windows had been blown out – found Evan sprawled across the smoldering steps, his clothes completely burnt off. No one had any idea how long he had been there when they found him, but it was clear he had been there long enough that he should have been cooked through. Only he wasn't. His skin was as cool and as pale as the average Scotsman, and not a strand of the auburn hair on his body had been seared. The only marks on him had been the residue of black ash from the edge of the steps he was lying across, and that would later wash right off.

Evan was in and out of consciousness, so the two brothers brought him to a medic where he was treated for smoke inhalation and bruised ribs, then transferred to a larger hospital where he spent three weeks undergoing a battery of tests designed to gauge his tolerance level to fire and heat, starting with minor things such as the flame of a candle against his index finger, then escalating into things like a hot iron against his back and stomach, but the hospital was limited in their ability to do any type of extreme testing and could find no medical explanation for Evan's condition. The team of doctors simply categorized him as "noncombustible," and he was given over to the British Military for further investigation. Evan agreed to go, but knew they only made him feel as though he had a choice as a formality. He had nothing to stay in Scotland for though anyway. His friends had all perished, as had the mill, and work was near impossible to find, which is why he had left home just a few years before and wound up at the mill.

He was allowed to travel back to Glasgow to visit with his parents for a few days to let them know he had enlisted, and that is when he met Alulim. During the second night of his stay, Evan traveled down to the local pub for a few drinks by himself. On his way back to his parent's cottage, while walking down a dark road void of streetlamps, he was approached by a man. Evan hadn't noticed him, or even heard his footsteps until the man was just a few steps ahead of him.

"Excuse me," the man said.

Evan could barely make out the man's silhouette in the dull moonlight, but he didn't appear to be holding any type of weapon, and if he wasn't there to mug Evan, then Evan assumed he was likely just a nomad, just as he had once been, in search of a job, a meal, or a place to stay for the night.

"Are you the one they call fireproof?" the man said to Evan.

He must be from the military, Evan thought, and that frustrated him since he wasn't scheduled to leave for another two days. Nonetheless, Evan nodded, realizing as he did that the man was probably as blind as he was in the darkness, but before Evan could speak the man responded.

"Perfect," he said. "My name is Alulim. I am here to transform you into one of the greatest creatures who has ever walked the earth."

Alulim was suddenly on top of him, his jaw locked onto Evan's neck.

That was the final memory Evangelos had as a human, and as he stood on the cliffs of Zembra Island admiring the sunrise, he recalled how thankful he had been to Alulim for turning him and saving him from a life where his best mates were all dead and he would have spent the rest of his days as nothing more than a freak, and a military experiment. He had suddenly become distrustful of Alulim though, to the point where he had considered destroying him, and the only reasons he had to justify his change of heart was the threat he suspected Alulim posed to Will, and his innate desire to protect the new vampire.

Alulim was right, Evangelos thought, he did need to find Satiah. But not to confirm her wellbeing. Evangelos was confident he knew exactly where Satiah was and why she failed to make it to the island before sunrise. He was also certain Satiah would be able to shed light on much of the dark mystery surrounding Alulim, and if his suspicions regarding her whereabouts were correct, he'd have the leverage he needed to coerce it out of her.

# 16

Will had planned to rest while he awaited the return of Alulim's tattooed minion. He was hungry and knew it would likely be hours before he would eat again, but as he was climbing into the casket, he sensed that he wasn't alone. He turned to find Evangelos standing in the doorway. It took Will a moment to process what he was seeing and put it into words.

"It is daylight, how did you get here?" Will finally said.

"That special ability I mentioned before," Evangelos said.

Will responded only with a look of confusion.

I'm noncombustible," Evangelos continued. "I was as a human, and so I am as a vampire."

"And the sun has no effect on you?" Will said.

"It feels unnatural, just as walking through fire as a human did, and it causes a dull ache throughout my body, but it does not harm me."

Will was silent.

"You've forgotten that we can read each other's thoughts," Evangelos said. "I don't blame you for being skeptical of my intentions. I'm a bit confused by them as well. But I'm not here to spy on your thoughts for Alulim."

Will nodded, prepared to put his trust in him.

Evangelos turned from the doorway and stepped back into the main room of the home. "What went on in here?" he said, examining the hole on the wall.

Will walked into the room and stood beside him. "I suppose there's no point in trying to think up a lie with you standing right next to me," Will said.

"Suppose not," Evangelos said.

"It's pretty simple really. I accidently put a hole in the wall while I was angry."

"We're underground, there's no such thing as a hole in the wall. Scrapes, dents, crevices maybe, but no holes." Evangelos walked over to the opening and knelt to examine it. "Were you trying to burrow your way out of here or something?"

"It's a tunnel, but I didn't make it," Will said.

"Any idea where it leads?"

"To a tomb."

"A tomb?" Evangelos turned to look at Will for confirmation.

"Yup." Will nodded.

"Whose tomb?"

"Someone, or something, very old and very dead. The body was mummified."

Evangelos considered this for a moment, turning his attention back to the hole as he did.

"So you don't know anything about it then?" Will said.

Evangelos stood, a perplexed look frozen on his face. "Why would I know anything about a random tomb in the middle of the desert?"

"I assume Alulim must know something, so I had hoped it was like common vampire knowledge or something."

"Alulim doesn't tell me much, unfortunately," Evangelos said, shaking his head. "Does Satiah know about this yet?"

"How would she know?"

"I know she was here. She never showed last night and Alulim sent me looking for her."

Will said nothing, doing his best to control his thoughts so that he wouldn't reveal too much to Evangelos.

"If you want to risk your life copulating with her, that's reckless, but I understand the temptation," Evangelos said. "If you think you can trust her though, you're being naïve. Now be honest with me, does Satiah know about this?"

Will shook his head. "Not yet."

"This might be nothing, Will, but something tells me there's a reason this body is so well hidden. Maybe Alulim isn't the one hiding it, but it would be a mighty big coincidence if he just happened to be squatting in the home where this tomb was made. And if it is his, there's a reason he doesn't want any of us to know about it."

Will retrieved the parchment from his pocket. "There's something else," he said, extending it to Evangelos.

Evangelos took it and carefully unfolded it. "This is very old."

"About as old as the corpse in that tomb," Will said.

Evangelos examined the writing on it, subtly shaking his head. "I have no idea what any of this means."

"A man was here earlier," Will said. "He was a messenger of Alulim's and he had a tattoo." Will pointed to the spot on his own neck where the man's tattoo had been. "A circle with a line through it right here."

"It's Alulim's day messenger. We call him the sheik," Evangelos said. "He's been doing Alulim's daylight bidding since before I was turned. In exchange, Alulim has granted him protection from all vampires."

"He brought a man with him for me to feed on. I released the man, but before I did, I showed him the parchment."

"And so the sheik saw it?" Evangelos said, looking up from the parchment.

Will shook his head. "No, I sent him for supplies to repair the wall."

"And you expect the sheik to keep this from Alulim?"

Will said nothing.

"You cannot kill the sheik," Evangelos said. "Alulim will not have it."

"I'll tell him the prisoner he brought me escaped and I needed to feed. I'm still learning the rules."

Evangelos considered the strategy. "He'll still be upset, but he'll likely give you a pass this time." Evangelos folded the parchment up and handed it back to Will. "So what did the prisoner say about the markings on the paper?"

"He didn't recognize the drawings, but the writing is Hebrew and it says something like, the curse will be broken where it was forged, and the second kingdom shall reign over the land of the rising sun."

Evangelos considered the words, staring blankly at the hole in the wall. "Alulim often refers to us, the creatures of the night, as the other kingdom. The opposing kingdom of Heaven, he says."

"And what about the curse?"

Evangelos shook his head. "No idea."

"I think we should ask Satiah," Will said. "She can be trusted not to tell Alulim."

"If Alulim trusts her enough to tell her, it is because she is loyal to him. And if he hasn't told her, her curiosity could prove too much. Either way, it's too much of a risk."

"She's only loyal to him because she has no choice."

"You've only just met her. You're talking nonsense. They've been together more than three-thousand years, Will. He's been a father, a mentor, and a lover to her. Do you really think you can change that level of devotion in a day?"

"I believe I have," Will said with a nod and a smile.

Evangelos hung his head with a sigh, then approached Will. "She was your first one, mate, wasn't she?"

"So damn what if she was? What's it matter whether she's number one or number one hundred?"

Evangelos could read the look in Will's eyes and could hear his thoughts. He relented, removing his hand from Will's shoulder. "I'm just asking that you wait. Wait until we know a bit more, and wait until you've had a chance to spend a little more time with her. That's all. I'm not saying you didn't make a connection with her."

Will placed the parchment back in his pocket, cracking it as he did due to his frustration and lack of care. "Well then how do you expect to find out what this means?" he said.

Evangelos paced the clay floor of the small room, walking toward the exit and then back to the hole in the wall, staring into it as if the answer to Will's question would be found inside. "The term land of the rising sun, what do you think when you hear that?"

Will thought for a moment. "Earth?" he said. "The land that the sun rises over."

"That was my initial thought as well, but what if it is actually referring to the term son, as in child? How would you interpret it then?"

"Where I come from, the rising son references the return of the Messiah."

"The land of the return of the Messiah."

Will's eyes widened. "And where might that be?"

Evangelos stared at Will, but made no response.

"What?" Will said. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Where were you born, Will?"

"Ireland, you know that."

Evangelos tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

"I am no Messiah," Will said.

"But aren't you? Did Alulim not refer to you as the Parousia? The second coming? And didn't you yourself say that Alulim thought you to be a soldier of God?"

Will considered the notion. He shook his head.

"You're searching to find an argument against it, but can't," Evangelos said. "Nor should you."

Will removed the cracked parchment from his pocket again and examined it. "But if I am meant to be a prophet, then why does this prophecy mean nothing to me?" he said.

"Perhaps it's not a prophecy for you to understand, but rather to prevent."

Will gave the writings a final look-over before placing it in his pocket again with extra care. He looked to Evangelos. "And how do we prevent what we don't understand?"

"What do you know of The Book of Kells?" Evangelos said.

Will shrugged. "Just that it's an old gospel book."

"Some believe that the illustrations in it foretell of the return of the Messiah taking place in Ireland. My grandfather used to preach about how Christ would rise again and the next time he was going to be a Gael because it's foretold in The Book of Kells."

"So you think we'll find our answers there?" Will said.

Evangelos made an exaggerated shrug and held it for a moment. "Don't know, but it can't hurt to have a look. The book is kept at Trinity College in Dublin."

"And what do we tell Alulim?"

"Nothing. We don't tell anyone anything, including Satiah."

"She may be able to help us, Will said."

"We don't need her help. We'll travel in daylight." Evangelos paused briefly and Will could hear his thoughts rummaging through travel arrangements. "The sheik," Evangelos continued, "how was he traveling?"

Will shook his head as he tried to recall hearing any type of motorized transportation. "I don't know, I didn't hear anything."

"Probably on camel," Evangelos said. "I'll have to leave once he gets back. I'll take his camel north toward Sened until I find a vehicle. We'll need something with a covered back for you, like one of those army med trucks." He paused again for a moment. "It may be several hours each way and it's going to be difficult to commandeer a vehicle like that without taking out a few soldiers."

"Just don't kill anyone," Will said.

Evangelos paced the floor, barely aware that Will had spoken. "Hopefully the sheik gets back here soon," he said, then shook his finger at Will. "You need to make sure Alulim doesn't suspect anything with that wall, and I need to be well on my way north before sundown. This is the first place Alulim will come when he wakes up, and when he does, you can't let on that you've seen me or Satiah at any point since he left you last night." Evangelos inspected the hole in the wall again. "I hope the sheik knows what the bloody hell he's doing," he said, then turned his attention back to Will. "I'll do my best to get back here right at sunbreak tomorrow, but if anything goes awry before then and you need to flee, there is a road about four kilometers northeast from here. Follow it north and stay on it so I see you on the trip back. We'll have to make it to Algiers Harbour before Alulim begins tracking us, then commandeer a ship right at sundown and head for Spain where we can take a train cross country. From there, we'll travel the Atlantic toward Ireland. It will take about a day to make our way through Spain, but we should be safe once we're there. Alulim will have no idea why we left or where we are." He looked at Will and gave a confident nod. "That's the plan."

"Sounds complicated," Will said.

Evangelos stepped toward him. "I've been traveling these lands with Alulim for a decade. We'll find our way." He took Will by the shoulders and nearly touched his nose to Will's. "I can't overstate the danger involved here and the need for absolute discretion. If Alulim senses or has any reason to fear subversion, he will rip your neck from your shoulders and pull your spinal cord out with it."

Will's face contorted. "Ew."

"Yea, I've seen him do it. It's pretty ugly."

They both abruptly pointed their noses toward the ceiling and sniffed, then look at each other.

"The sheik is back," Evangelos said.

# 17

The sheik came through the door carrying two large, rusted buckets. He was panting, and the water in one of the buckets sloshed against the sides and he scurried across the room, leaving a trail of pebble-sized water stains on the floor. He kept his head down and said nothing to the two vampires watching him. He placed the water bucket on floor in front of the hole he was preparing to patch, then grabbed the other bucket by its bottom and flipped it upside down, dumping a large mound of damp sand on the floor. It resembled clay and was chocolate brown color.

"It's going to be too dark," Will said.

"It's the best I am able to do so quickly," the sheik said, trying to manage both the fear and the frustration he was experiencing. He looked at Will and nodded, taking a breath to relax himself. "I will dust the wall with dry sand when I am finished and it will help to mask it." He placed the empty bucket on the floor and hurried for the door, but stopped just before stepping out and bowed slightly in the direction of Evangelos. "Mr. Evangelos, sir," he said.

Evangelos gave a nod. "Sheik."

The sheik exited and returned a few minutes later carrying a small bucket, just as overused and rusty as the two larger buckets, along with a spaded shovel and small trowel. After placing the trowel and bucket on the floor, he used the shovel to form a basin in the pile of sand, then took the small bucket and dumped the lime it contained into the basin. The contrast of the white powder against the dark sand resembled a small volcano. The two vampires watched as the sheik tactfully poured half the bucket of water into the basin. Each time the water didn't absorb into the lime quickly enough and the overflow ran down the side of the dirt mountain, the sheik would take hold of the trowel and scrape the stream of water back up into the mouth of the volcano. When he was satisfied with the amount of water he had added, he began covering the wet lime with dirt from the base of the mountain using the trowel. When he was finished, the entire thing looked like an oversized, hastily made chocolate cake. The sheik stood over it for a few minutes, examining his work and watching as cracks began to form and open up in various spots. He turned his attention to Will and Evangelos. "Now we wait," he said.

"How long?" Will said.

The sheik shrugged. "About an hour. The water must react with the lime to release heat and dry the sand."

"And then you can patch it?"

"Yes. I will mix with water and then patch. You're lucky the hole is small."

The vampires made no response, so the sheik headed for the door. "I will just get my canteen."

"Are you on camel?" Evangelos said.

"Yes," the sheik said, then exited.

Evangelos walked to the door and watched the sheik climb the stairs out of the courtyard. "I will leave when he comes back," he said to Will. "Remember, when Alulim comes here, you never saw me. And stay away from Satiah. I will try to time my return just before sunrise so that we can get you into the vehicle."

Will gave a confirming nod.

Evangelos turned his attention to the hole one last time and shook his head. "If he gets suspicious over this," he paused, considering the predicament.

"I'll tell him the truth. Take my chances, see what it reveals," Will said.

Evangelos subtly shook his head side to side. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Looking outside again, Evangelos turned his attention to the ball of fire hovering in the sky's blue abyss. He sometimes wondered how close he could stand to the gold ball of fury before its heat would be too much for even him to withstand. Alulim had even asked him on one occasion if he thought he could walk through the fiery sun and come out clean on the other side. Evangelos had no idea, but concluded that a ball of fire powerful enough to drown out the black of night and scorch the desert sands around him from millions of kilometers away is not something any creature made of flesh would be built to withstand.

"I'd be curious to know as well," Will said.

The comment broke Evangelos from his reverie. "How's that?" he said.

"Sorry, didn't mean to intrude on your thoughts, but it's a curious proposition. How much heat you could withstand, that is."

Evangelos looked upward again. "You have about eight hours until nightfall." His attention turned to something else outside. "Here comes the sheik. Do not let him outside again. If he decides to flee, there will be nothing you can do about it."

"He won't, for the same reason he came back here in the first place."

Evangelos moved from the door to allow the sheik entry. "I am borrowing your camel for a while," Evangelos said to him. "Do you have everything you need from it to complete this job?"

The sheik bobbed his head feverishly. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Evangelos motioned to Will. "He won't harm you, just do the job well and ensure that Alulim will be pleased with all of us."

"Of course, sir."

Evangelos departed and the sheik sat on the floor next to the dirt cake he had made. His torso rocked forward and back, pausing only to sip from his canteen. The scene made Will think of a nervous child, and for a moment he almost took pity on the terrified man, but he could see the evil in him, the terrible things that he had done to those meeker than him, and he reminded himself that the sheik was nothing more than a bully who'd been humbled. Now he sat, wallowing in the same hellish fear he had likely instilled in many of his own victims. Will's senses were consumed by the scent of blood being pumped through the sheik's veins by his rapidly beating heart. He could see the carotid arty pulsating and the desire to slice his fangs through it was almost too much to bear.

"I will be in the other room, resting in my casket. Do not go outside without telling me," Will said.

"Yes, sir," the sheik said.

Will went and lied down, leaving the top of the casket open.

A noise woke Will and he was out of the casket and standing in the other room before he knew what it was. The sheik's shovel lie on the floor and Will connected the sound of its metal spade bouncing against the hard clay with the noise he had heard. The wall had been patched and two of the buckets and the tools remained, but the sheik was gone. Will looked toward the door and though he couldn't see very far into the sunny courtyard, the blinding white haze he experienced earlier was not as intense and he knew the sun must be dropping and dusk approaching quickly. He squatted to inspect the sheik's work. The discoloration was noticeable, but not quite as jarring as he feared it would be. He caught the sheik's scent and knew the man must not be far. A moment later he appeared in the door and Will was reminded of how badly he needed to feed.

"I told you not to leave without telling me."

"Sorry, sir." He lifted the small bucket in his hand. "I had to retrieve the dry sand and didn't want to disturb you."

Will rose and made room for the sheik to continue his work.

The sheik placed the bucket on the floor and took a few handfuls of sand from it. He flung the sand against the repaired wall, then repeated the action several more times. Choking on the dust cloud it formed around him, he began blowing at the wall and waving his hand rapidly at the spots where the layer of sand was too thick. When he was done, Will thought that if Alulim were looking for a disturbance to the area, he would certainly spot the discrepancy, but otherwise, it would be enough to make it through the night, especially if he didn't give Alulim reason to linger in the home before they went out hunting.

The sheik turned to Will, clearly proud of his work.

"Good enough," Will said, and before the sheik could reply, Will was on top of him, swallowing blood from the same artery that had enticed him earlier. He drank the thick red liquid so quickly that it made him wonder whether vampires were vulnerable to stomach cramps the way humans were when they ate and drank down a meal too rapidly. If the sheik had tried to struggle, Will hadn't noticed. When finished, Will stood over his withered body and immediately realized that he had been too hasty in his desire to feed. Examining the unused mortar, corroded buckets, and dirty tools, Will realized he should have had the sheik clean up first and dispose of the evidence before devouring him. He considered whether he might have the time to bury it all somewhere or just hide it in the desert before Alulim returned, but he had no idea how quickly Alulim would arrive once the sun disappeared and he couldn't take even the slightest risk of being caught with the materials.

He used the shovel to scoop the mortar into one of the buckets, then used the remaining dry sand to conceal the damp spot on the floor where the sheik had mixed it. He moved the buckets and the tools into his casket and covered it with the lid, making a mental note to relocate the items before departing so that Alulim wouldn't discover them the following evening when he came looking for Will.

Will surveyed the other room again. The sheik had done a better job than he anticipated and a pang of guilt fluttered in Will's gut as he examined the man's desiccated body. Will quickly reminded himself of how heartless a man the sheik was, and how much pleasure he had taken in delivering the intended victim to Will earlier in the day – the family man who had clearly done nothing to deserve the ugly fate the sheik had brutally dragged him to. Even with the war that raged, Tunisia was a safer place without the sheik, Will told himself.

For the first time since his disagreement with Evangelos about her, Will's thoughts turned to Satiah. He wondered if she would return with Alulim, and whether Alulim would suspect anything had gone on between the two of them. More than anything though, he recalled the shape and feel of her bare flesh and hoped that she could find a way to detach from Alulim and be with him again before he was to leave with Evangelos. He wondered what he would do beyond that though. How long would it be before he could touch her again, if ever? He thought about the way she had handled him, the way she had used her mouth on him, and he decided that a woman, even a vampire, wouldn't be doing those things with a man unless her feelings for him were genuine.

The distraction of this caused Will to lose track of the waning light, and when he turned to the door to see whether the sun had fully set, he found Alulim already standing in the entranceway staring at the dead sheik.

"This man was meant to bring you food, not to be your food," he said, and took a step toward Will. "He must have explained that to you. He must have told you what the tattoo on his neck means."

"He did," Will said, and he could see the fury grow within Alulim's eyes.

"And yet you felt empowered to do this."

"He was not competent," Will said. "It's no loss."

"He was absolutely competent." Alulim's voice was raised and he moved toward Will so rapidly that Will braced for impact, expecting to be struck, but Alulim stopped just short of their noses touching. "He was my most reliable day runner and I had plans to turn him once his age began to inhibit that. He was a good and loyal soldier and you do not get to question my authority."

"He arrived here with no one for me to feed on and I was ravenous, I apologize."

"Impossible. I instructed him to bring you a vagabond. There is no shortage of them around here and he has never failed me."

"The man apparently escaped just as they arrived here," Will said.

"How could that happen?"

Will shook his head. "I don't know the specifics, but I have not fed on anyone else."

Alulim floated his nose across the room. "I smell other blood."

Will motioned to the sheik's body. "He had some blood on his clothing when he arrived. The sight and smell of it made it impossible for me to control myself. I imagine it was caused by the struggle he must have had with the intended victim."

Alulim considered the information and Will could see the emotions on his face subsiding.

"This must never happen again," Alulim said, "and we must dispose of the carcass so the others do not find out that you disobeyed my rules and went unpunished."

Will nodded.

"Did you see Satiah before sunrise last night?"

"Not after you left me, no."

"She did not return to our dwelling."

"Perhaps she was on the hunt, lost track of the sun, and was too far to make it back in time," Will said.

"She is too experienced for that." He paused, considering alternatives. "What about Evangelos, have you seen him?" Then quickly added, "Never mind, he would never have let you do this to one of my messengers."

"I have not seen anyone since we all parted ways last night," Will said.

Alulim stepped to the doorway and stared off into the starless night sky, as if he were going to locate Satiah and Evangelos floating somewhere in the dark abyss. "I sent your brother to find her just before dawn. This is not the first time I have had to do that," he said.

A blanket of relief came over Will. If Satiah had done this before, Alulim was less inclined to suspect that Will had anything to do with her absence. That notion quickly turned to a form of jealousy though, as Will wondered why she had done it previously – what, or who, was the reason? And where did she go after she had left him the night before?

"Gus is nearby, I feel him," Alulim said, still facing out into the night. "He will take you hunting tonight and I will find Satiah and Evangelos."

"I'd prefer to accompany you," Will said.

"No. You must feed again and I must focus on tracking them."

"Where do you think they might be?"

Alulim turned to face Will. Initially, Will took the look on his face to be one of annoyance, as though Will should know better than to pry into the business of his elder vampires, but then Alulim smiled and spoke.

"Satiah has a taste for carnage."

"Don't we all by nature?"

"Clearly, but Satiah finds enjoyment in dining on families, and when the mood strikes her, there is little even I can do to deter her."

"What does that mean?" Will said. "Dining on families."

"I believe it stems from a mix of resentment and envy. These happy people, residing in a comforting, peaceful environment. Fireplaces crackling, children laughing, husbands and wives loving, dinner warming on the stovetop. It's very inviting, but also quite annoying to her all at the same time, and she finds gratification in destroying it and then partaking in it."

"How so?"

"She feasts on the members, then makes herself at home, relaxing in their chairs or sofas at night and sleeping in their beds by day. She once squatted in a home for a full three days before she had had enough. Granted, it was a large home, so there were many comfortable furnishings to take advantage of."

"Even the children?" Will said.

"What's the alternative? Leave them orphaned?" Alulim shrugged. "It's not how we typically conduct our hunting, but I like to let her indulge now and then. Plus, she always comes back to me reinvigorated and looking for passion." Alulim thought to himself for a moment. "There aren't many lavish comforts to be had in close proximity here though, so I don't know for certain where she might have wandered off to."

Will became somewhat disgusted by Satiah upon hearing of her thirst for children. He considered that perhaps he had been naïve to think that some vampires weren't as animalistic as others. Maybe all vampires, even the ones that could be as comforting and warm as Satiah had been to him, were inherently without boundaries or morals. Will studied Alulim, who had turned back to the entranceway, and his perspective quickly shifted back again. Alulim was a vile creature, Will reminded himself, and he was all Satiah had known, all she had to learn from for centuries.

"Did she have such an appetite for malice before you turned her?" Will said. "Is that what drew you to her?"

Alulim turned slowly back to face Will, but his gaze was fixed on the floor, as if searching a crystal ball for the memory of his encounter with Satiah ages before. He shook his head. "No, it wasn't that."

"So it was her beauty then. You wanted to take something beautiful and good and corrupt it, simply because you could."

The scorn in Will's tone caught Alulim's attention and when their eyes met, Alulim's held a look of patronization. "Oh, it was far more than that. Her beauty was simply an added bonus."

Will's expression turned from judgmental to inquisitive, prompting Alulim to elaborate.

"Some of the attributes that attract me to my progenies are fairly simplistic, such as Gus' rough-and-tumble approach, while others are far more miraculous. Much like yours, and much like Satiah's."

"Satiah can heal the wounded?" Will said.

"Heal? No, not exactly. More like inspire life," Alulim said, with a dramatic wave of his hand, as if presenting a magic act.

"Are you saying she can raise the dead?"

Alulim's head rocked side to side as he searched for the right reply. "In a manner of speaking," he finally said.

"So she could walk to the nearest medical facility and start bringing soldiers back to life as they expire?"

"No, no. It's a lot more involved than simply touching their head and saying a prayer. Far more ritualistic."

"I'm not following."

Alulim paced the floor in front of Will, hesitant to go into detail.

"The curiosity is more than I can bear," Will said.

"She has raised the dead," Alulim said, "as in past tense. It is not something she has ever attempted since her evolution, but when I found Satiah, she was a practitioner of what was once known as the Heka."

"The Heka? Sounds like some sort of witchcraft."

Alulim nodded in agreement. "Wicca is a fair modern analogy."

"Now you're saying Satiah is a witch?"

"I'm saying practices of the ancient world that have long since faded, primarily due to human persecution of those who had the rare gift, is something Satiah has intimate knowledge of."

Will took a moment to absorb the information. Alulim was still pacing before him and Will couldn't tell whether it was the pace of impatience due to his persistent questioning, or the pacing of someone thinking something through.

"Well don't we all have the ability to raise the dead anyway, simply by turning them?" Will said.

"Within reason, as long as we begin the process just after death, but the gift of Heka allows for revival well after death by calling on the departed spirit to return to its former, lifeless vessel. It works only if the body is properly embalmed."

"Well that's a far greater attribute than my own."

"It has its limitations." Alulim had returned to the doorway and stood looking out as he continued speaking. "As I said, the body must be meticulously well preserved. It cannot be badly maimed, and so certain types of death, violent ones for instance, are incurable."

"And she has not attempted this practice at all since being turned?" Will said.

"The right opportunity has not presented itself I suppose. Perhaps in time when we can use it to our benefit. Or enjoyment."

It was in those words that Will was able to come to terms with Alulim's gruesome account of Satiah killing off entire families for nothing more than game. Every action Alulim took was for his own benefit or some sort of sick pleasure, and of course Satiah would adopt some of his vile behavior, it was inevitable. She just needed someone to show her the ugliness of what Alulim was and help her understand that she could be a vampire without being like Alulim. He had to find her and get her alone for a few moments before leaving with Evangelos.

Alulim stepped to the side and Gus entered. When Alulim questioned him on Satiah and Evangelos he answered that he had no knowledge and had not seen either of them since the hunt the night before.

"Take Will to feed," Alulim said to him. "I will go find those two."

Before Will or Gus could respond, Alulim dashed out into the night. As badly as Will wanted to find Satiah, he also knew that he should feed again. If all went according to Evangelos' plan, he would have a long ride ahead of him, held up in the back of a truck, before getting on a boat. Gus stood, staring at Will as if waiting to see whether Will would come on the hunt willingly or be forced to join him. Will nodded at him and with that confirmation, Gus exited the home and Will followed.

Five minutes into their trek through the dessert, Will asked Gus where they were headed. "A camp," Gus said.

"What type of camp? Military?"

"Yes."

"Which camp?"

Gus stopped abruptly and turned to face him. For a moment Will thought Gus looked angry enough to attack him, but his hands remained by his side.

"Just because I'm not a mortal any more doesn't make me any less American. We're gonna kill some fucking Nazis, son. Alulim, our lord and maker, might not have a stake in this, but I sure as shit do." He poked Will in the shoulder with his right index finger. "And so should you."

Will nodded, unsure of how else to reply.

"Plus, you won't have to worry about that ridiculous sense of guilt you feel over feeding on good people," Gus said, forming finer quotes as he spoke the last words. "All those Nazi sons of bitches are pure evil."

"Or perhaps at least some of them don't have a choice and are here by the will of their government," Will said.

Gus was quiet for a moment, staring into Will's eyes as though he were trying to read Will's thoughts, and for a moment Will wondered if that's what he was doing. Gus soon shook his head and smirked. "You're turning out to be a sorry excuse for a vampire," he said, then turned and continued walking.

"Or maybe you were taught the wrong way to be a vampire," Will said.

As quickly as Will saw Gus turn to face him, Gus had his meaty hand clamped around Will's neck and they were sailing off their feet across the desert floor. When they landed a moment later, Gus was on top of Will, pinning him against the warm sand by his throat. "Don't you ever question Alulim, our lord and maker," he said.

Gus was as strong as Will had anticipated he would be – a one hundred year old vampire about fifty pounds heavier than he was – but Will had also gotten strong and the disparity was not as great as he had anticipated. Will took hold of Gus' massive right triceps with is his left hand, and rather than attempting to push Gus off of him, Will pulled and held him closer. Just as Gus released his grip from around Will's neck so that he could try to stand up, Will grabbed a hold of his face with his right hand. Before Gus could cock his arm back and drive his fist into Will's face, the light that had emanated from Will the first time they met began to radiate from him again, but this time it was only Will's hand that emitted it.

Gus howled and nearly freed himself from Will's grasps, but Will had a stronghold on his arm and his fingers were clenched into Gus' cheeks and eye socket like the talon of an owl sinking its grip into the flesh of a twitching rabbit. Using his free arm, Gus began frantically swiping at Will's face, grazing Will's forehead with a punch. Will intensified the energy and Gus' muffled bellows increased just as his head became engulfed in flames. Part of Will wanted to end the torture, knowing that he had made his point, but he could see Gus' life in that moment, both his life as a human and as a vampire. He could see the man's life of sin playing in his mind as though he were watching a filmstrip at rapid speed. All the people Gus had hurt. So many women as a human, so many children as a vampire. Will could also see the pleasure he took in it.

Gus squirmed in a final effort to free himself, exerting every bit of strength he had left, but Will squeezed tighter, and one image in particular – Gus as a human raping a young woman in front of her children – infuriated him, and Will concentrated all his energy on roasting Gus' head. The fire burning through his hand and onto Gus' face was so bright that Will could see nothing but a white haze. Gus' body twitched, but the screaming had stopped. Will wondered whether his power could kill another vampire, whether he was actually Killing Gus, or if Gus would eventually heal, just had Satiah had after their first encounter. After what he had seen in Gus' mind he hoped it was the former. As he thought this, Gus was ripped from his grasp. Alulim, will thought, and a slight fear rushed over him. He jumped to his feet and found Satiah kneeling over Gus' body.

"What have you done?" she said, looking up to address Will.

"He attacked me," Will said.

"You fight back, you don't destroy another vampire. You do not have the authority to destroy."

"And whose authority is it to decide what I can and cannot do?"

Satiah rose to her feet. "Alulim, of course." She stepped toward Will. "Not only was Gus one of us, he was a child of Alulim. Just as I am, just as Evangelos is. Just as you are."

Will considered the situation. He examined the body lying behind Satiah. "We don't even know if he is dead." Will walked around her to get a closer look. What was left of Gus' head was still smoldering, the remains charred and no larger than the size of a coconut. "It will regenerate, he's a vampire," Will said.

"You destroyed him. You fried his brain, he is gone."

"What will Alulim do?"

"What would you do if someone killed one of your progeny?" Satiah said.

Will reminded himself that he was fleeing come daybreak anyway and just needed to get through the night – he just needed Satiah to help him get through and he needed her to join him on his escape with Evangelos, then Alulim would be left without any of them and no idea where they had gone off to. Will was staring down at Gus' corpse as he thought this and an unintended smile developed on his face.

"What are you smiling about?" Satiah said. She stepped close to him, their noses almost colliding as Will turned his head to face her. "Do you not understand what I am saying to you? The graveness of this situation? As an elder I should kill you myself for destroying one of us."

"But you won't," Will said.

Her emerald eyes sparkled in the moonlight and he could see the anger she felt toward him and the concern for his wellbeing. "No, of course I will not." She said.

Will grasped her hips and pulled her body against his. "We just need to hide the body from Alulim and stay clear of him until daybreak."

"And what happens at daybreak?" she said.

"We go away. Far enough away from here that it would take Alulim years, even decades to locate us."

"If Alulim wants to find you, you will be found."

"Together we will outsmart him."

"And how do you propose we do this, if I even wanted to? Do you plan to travel in daylight? Have you not even learned the basics of what you are now?"

"Evangelos and I have a plan," Will said.

"Evangelos? What does he have to do with this?"

Will paused. He could hear the memory of Evangelos imploring him not to tell Satiah of their plan. But he loved her and she was his now, not Alulim's. He slowly reached into his pocket and removed the parchment. He handed it over to her, his left hand still resting on her right hip. "Do you know what this is?"

She accepted it as though it were a sheet of glass and opened it just as carefully. "Where did you get this?" she said, without looking up from it.

"There is a secret tomb behind the walls of the home I was in. Have you seen it before?"

"You should not have taken this."

"Do you know what it is?"

"It's a prophecy, Satiah said."

"The curse will be broken where it was forged, and the second kingdom shall reign over the land of the rising son," Will said.

"If you already know what it says, then why are you asking me?"

"Because I don't know what it means, who it's intended for, or what the drawings on there are supposed to be."

Satiah examined it another moment, then handed it back to him.

"Do you know what it is?" Will said, taking the parchment back.

"No," she said.

"Nothing?"

"I know as much as you. I know what the writing says and I know that the drawings are hieroglyphs. I don't know what they mean."

Will stared at her, waiting for her to say more.

"You don't believe me," she said.

"You're more than three-thousand years old and you expect me to believe that you don't know how to read hieroglyphics?"

"I don't recognize these," Satiah said, showing her fangs.

Will gentled his tone. "Do you think Alulim would know?"

"I would be surprised if he didn't," Satiah said, the look in her eyes transitioning from rage to melancholy.

"It bothers you that Alulim still keeps secrets from you, but you should know better than to trust him."

The rage returned and so Will stroked a strand of her dark hair away from her left eye in an effort to calm the tension between them. "Evangelos and I intend to figure out what this means," he said. "Join us."

"Join you where?"

Will hesitated, again beset by Evangelos' warning, unsure of just how much he wanted to tell her. He felt she would come with him out of love and out of curiosity, the same curiosity driving him and Evangelos, but if she was too frightened, too intimidated by the wrath of Alulim, she may balk and he couldn't leave her behind with knowledge that could put her in danger. He was confident she would lie for him, even put her life at risk with Alulim, but what if he knew her well enough to detect her untruths, Will wondered.

"You don't trust me?" she said

She didn't appear hurt or insulted by the notion; more surprised judging by the inflection in her voice and the inquisitive look on her face. Will regretted second guessing his instinct. He understood why Evangelos was wary of Satiah, he had known her only as Alulim's partner, and though Evangelos could read his thoughts, he was not able to channel and experience the emotional connection Will now shared with Satiah.

Will held the parchment up. "There's a deeper meaning hidden within this prophecy," he said. "And the drawings are meant to tell someone something." He gently tapped the parchment against an open hand for effect. "This paper and the body I found it on are waiting to be found, and if Alulim is keeping the reasoning to himself, then it cannot be good for the rest of us."

"So what are you planning to do?" Satiah said.

"What do you know of the Book of Kells?"

"It is a book of Gospels," she said, her mouth forming an impish grin.

"The look on your face tells me you know a lot more than just that."

"I know there is nothing for our kind to be found in those works of deception."

"According to Alulim," Will said.

"According to me, who has walked this earth before, during, and after the death of Jesus of Nazareth, and sucked on the blood of his disciples."

Will made no response. He examined her face waiting for a hint of ridicule, something to tell him she was teasing him, or at least exaggerating, but all he saw was a passionate scorn.

"It bothers you," she said. "What we are and what we have to do to survive."

"It's your disregard for fostering and preserving the good on this earth that bothers me."

"What is good? Who determines this?" Satiah's voice elevated slightly. "We are the superior species. This is our land."

"Says who? Who decides that?"

"The law of evolution decides."

"But you were once human," Will said.

"Once. Now I am reborn as the dominant species, and I feed on the blood of the meek and dimwitted. A species so lacking in intelligence that their own God sent them a savior, a child in his own likeness, to help rid the world of bloodshed and debauchery, and what did God's people do? Crucified their own Messiah."

"Much like us, they are an imperfect species," Will said.

Satiah smiled at Will as though he were a naïve schoolboy claiming to have seen Santa Clause. She took his face in her hands, the palms of her hands pressing gently against his cool cheeks. Will didn't appreciate the condescending smirk she wore, but her touch excited him.

"We are not imperfect, Will," she said. "Certainly not in comparison to the human race. We are to the human as the human is to the ape. Superior."

Her tone made Will consider pulling away from her, but that emotion was overruled by the excitement he felt from having his face so close to hers.

"Humans don't slaughter apes though," Will said.

"Nor do we slaughter humans, at least not for the sake of slaughter. We take what we need to survive. If we wanted them gone, they would be gone, but why would we want to extinct our food supply? It's simply another ring within the circle of life. You need to stop hating what you are and embrace it. Be thankful you were chosen by Alulim."

The smell of Gus' torched head lingered in the air and Will knew he needed to do something about the corpse before Alulim found them. He also knew he was not going to be able to change Satiah's beliefs through debate. Alulim was godlike to her, or perhaps even God Himself, and she lived only as he instructed. The only way she would question his principles is if Will were to expose his secrets and show Satiah that he was as cruel and dishonest as Will's instincts led him to believe.

"I'm thankful to him for uniting me with you, which we both know is the last thing he intended to have happen," Will said, then leaned forward to kiss Satiah.

She pulled away. "Not here and not now," she said. "We need to deal with Gus first."

"You are not going to tell Alulim about what I have done?"

"Of course not, he would destroy you."

She might worship Alulim, but it's me she loves, Will thought. He took hold of her hips and pulled her toward him. She gently shook her head at him, but didn't physically resist. Will pressed his lips against her cool mouth, which was partly open, and touched his tongue against her teeth, using his lips to open her mouth further. He pressed his tongue into her right fang, piercing it just enough to chase out a few droplets of blood. Satiah moaned as she took hold of his tongue with her lips and sucked the blood off of it. Will pulled his tongue away and pressed his mouth against hers. She kissed him back this time.

Will picked her up, wrapping her thighs around his waist, and hurried them over to a scattering of creosote bushes fifty yards from where they stood to give them some semblance of privacy. As he laid her on the gritty desert floor he kissed her neck.

"We can't do this, not here," she said.

Will knew if she really wanted him to stop, she was strong enough to stop him, so he disregarded the words and took hold of the waist of her pants. He kissed the hollow of her neck one more time, then in one rapid motion Will pulled the pants over her thighs, down her legs, and over her feet, taking her boots along with them. Satiah winced, but as Will moved his mouth up her inner thigh she gasped in anticipation of what came next.

"No," she said in a faint voice; a meek and final attempt to avoid the risk of being caught by Alulim.

Once his mouth was fully on her, she grasped his hair and pulled his face firmly against her, her body gently squirming in the sand. Will ran his hands up along her torso, pushing her shirt up and over her breasts as he did. The cool desert air on her stomach and chest was a pleasant contrast to the warm ground against her back. She looked up at the starry night sky and located the constellation Pisces. She smiled at the adopted symbol of Christ and wondered what constellation the humans would have assigned to the Messiah who was currently doing work between her legs, had he in fact been their savior rather than their predator. She turned her attention to the western sky, arching her back in response to the surge of endorphins, and focused her attention on the constellation Leo. She bit into her lower lip and blood trickled into the corners of her mouth. The lion, she thought, still looking at the constellation, that's what he is now. My lion.

Will rose onto his knees and opened his pants. Satiah took hold of him with her left hand and guided him inside her. He dropped onto his elbows and licked the blood from her lips as he pushed into her as deep as he could. He was overwhelmed by the desire to caress and taste every part of her. He wanted to do it all, but knew he didn't have time. They didn't just need to be finished before Alulim found them, they needed to be hidden where he wouldn't find them at all before Evangelos returned, and they needed Gus gone as well. Though it had dissipated due to the distance between them, Will could still smell Gus in the air, a persistent reminder that his time with Satiah needed to be hastier than he wanted, but at least this was something, and they would have plenty of time to enjoy more of each other once he convinced her to go with him and Evangelos.

Satiah pulled Will's ear to her mouth. After several quiet squeaks in response to his hip thrusts, she said, "We are running out of time."

"Okay," Will said.

Satiah released his head and he took hold of her hands, pinning them down above her head, then accelerated his pace. She gritted her teeth, fighting back the urge to shriek into the night. Will collapsed onto her a moment later, grunting as though releasing his final gasp of air. After a few final, feeble trusts, he lay motionless on top of her. There was no rapid heartbeat or heavy panting as there would have been if he were human.

"No time to cuddle," she said.

Will pushed himself to his feet, then fixed his pants as Satiah retrieved her own pants and boots.

"Next time you should be more careful," she said.

Will gave an inquisitive look.

"About orgasming inside of me."

Will's face was panic-stricken. "I assumed vampires couldn't get pregnant," he said.

Satiah smiled and shook her head. "Not that. I don't want to risk Alulim smelling you on me."

Will's face contorted. "He can smell that?"

"I haven't been with anyone else since I met Alulim, so I don't know for sure, but my own keen sense of smell tells me he can," she said, cracking a childish grin.

Will watched her as she sat on the ground to put her boots on. "Two centuries sharing a bed with that walking corpse," he said, shaking his head. "Torture."

The smile left her face. "You can't speak of him like that. You don't have to agree with everything he says or does, but you should pretend to, and you must respect him, regardless."

"It doesn't matter, and who cares whether he can smell me on you. We just need to avoid him for the night and make it back to where I'm staying before daybreak to meet Evangelos."

Boots on, Satiah stood. "I told you, I'm not going with you. And you're being naïve if you think leaving here is anything more than a suicide mission. Alulim will find you and he will destroy you. At the very least because he will assume you destroyed Gus before leaving, but most certainly because you will have disrespected his order."

"So you would rather be with him than with me?" Will said.

"You say that as if there is a choice."

"Of course there is a choice."

"No there is not," she said, then caught herself and lowered her voice. "Alulim is god of this existence, god of this planet, god of everything as we know it."

"I think he may actually believe that, and he's obviously convinced you of it, but I can tell you that's simply not true."

Satiah turned her back to him. "You're so young and naïve, Will."

"Ask yourself this. What happens if Alulim is destroyed?"

Satiah turned and hissed at him, curling her lip above her fangs.

"I'm saying, what if? A freak accident happens and he is decapitated."

"That won't happen."

"It might not, but it could. And what if it did? Does this world cease to exist? Do humans stop procreating? Would you and I just wither and die? I doubt it."

"Of course not."

"Doesn't sound like much of a god to me then."

Will saw the hand coming at him, but not in time to pull away from it. The nails of Satiah's right hand swept through his left cheek taking the layers of skin in five uneven tracks from his temple to his chin. It stung and he hissed at her.

"That's a lesson for your own good. You must learn your place if you hope to survive in this world. It doesn't matter what you were before this, or what god you prayed to. You are one of us now, and you revere Alulim."

The pain was already beginning to subside and the wound closing up. Will ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and could feel a small hole where one of the nails had cut through. He spat the blood from it onto the ground. "And you accuse me of being naïve," he said.

"The line between the darkness and the light is not as clear cut as good versus evil, Will."

"Well then educate me."

"Alulim is trying to educate you, but our existence is more complicated than you realize."

"What's so bloody complicated about it?" Will said. "Just tell me what I'm missing here, Satiah. You said you know more than Alulim thinks you do. So tell me what it is. Educate me, dammit."

Satiah smiled, a smile Will had never seen before, as if he had just given her the greatest news of her life.

"What the hell is so amusing to you about this?" Will said.

"I don't think you've ever said my name before. It sounds so cute with your accent."

Will returned the grin momentarily before their expressions each turned somber again.

"I'm sorry I hit you," Satiah said.

Will aimed his cheek at her. "Already healing," he said, then endured an awkward silence between them before continuing. "I know that what we're doing breaks the rules of what you're accustom to," he said, "but it's unorthodox for me as well. At this point, I'm just making decisions based on my gut, which right now is telling me that there is something between us."

Satiah smiled again and rubbed her eyes thoughtfully. "You'd think it would be impossible to surprise me after thousands of years, but here I am," she said, lifting her arms in the air in the sign of surrender, "surprised." She lowered her arms and locked eyes with Will. "I was no more than what humans now call a teenager when my husband took me for his bride. He was the first and last human I would ever be with. I was committed to him. Not that there was much choice, but he was a good man and I was happy to share his bed."

Will gritted his teeth. He understood it had been centuries before, but he couldn't help feeling covetous of her sharing a bed with another man and enjoying it.

"It was less than a month later that Alulim found me," she said. "And so then there was him, and for more than a millennium I have been faithful to only him."

"But you remember what it was like to be human," Will said.

"Of course I do, Will. And although I wasn't as conflicted as you are, I did have my own questions when I was first turned. It was a confusing time, but in time I came to understand the reality of it. You will too, you just need to be patient."

"Give me something to help understand then. Tell me what it is you know that Alulim hasn't told you."

Satiah surveyed the dark abyss of the desert as though she might locate the answer to Will's question somewhere out there for him, and when she returned her attention to him it was as though she had found it. "I know it wasn't always like this," she said.

"What wasn't like this?"

"The relationship between humans and vampires. It was different, long before I was turned."

"Different how?" Will said.

"I don't know exactly, I just know there was a time when nightfall wasn't such a dangerous place for humans, and daybreak wasn't something creatures like us retreated from."

"And how do you know this if Alulim hasn't told you?"

"Ludari told me."

"Who is Ludari?" Will said, trying to repeat the name as Satiah had pronounced it.

"He was one of us. Older than me and he died shortly after I was reborn."

"How?"

"He defied Alulim one too many times."

"And so Alulim destroyed him?" Will said.

"He did not intend to kill Ludari. But it is how their battle ended."

Satiah turned away, but not before Will spotted the desolation in her eyes.

"Were you close?" he said.

"Much like siblings. Just as Alulim has tasked Evangelos with acting in a fraternal role with you, Ludari assumed the role of big brother for me in my early years."

"What was their battle over?"

"It wasn't any one thing. They had many disagreements, mainly as a result of Ludari's reckless behavior. He spoke of things Alulim entrusted him to keep private, and his curiosity gave us more exposure than Alulim cares for us to have, breaking many of the rules Alulim preaches." Satiah returned her attention to Will. "I'm certain that situation is largely to blame for Alulim's strict and somewhat secretive nature. There are rules to our existence that even I do not fully understand."

"What else did Ludari share with you?"

"Nothing that would explain the corpse or the note you found."

"But you know more than you are telling me," Will said.

Satiah opened her mouth to speak, but froze suddenly, an alarmed look befalling her face. "Alulim is near," she said.

"We need to dispose of Gus," Will said.

"There is no time. If he is close enough for me to detect his scent, then he has already smelled us."

"Then we must go."

"He will find us eventually."

"Not if we are able to find Evangelos first," Will said, taking her by her upper arm.

"No. I will tell him that Gus was the aggressor and you defended yourself, unaware of the power you have. Gus is a brute, he will believe it."

"Why chance it? We have an escape plan." Will took a step and attempted to pull her with him, but she resisted and yanked her arm from his grasp.

"You can't run forever," she said, "he will find you eventually. Better to face him now."

"He won't provide me the information I want, so I am going to get it on my own. We have a plan. It's a good plan and I cannot abandon Evangelos."

Satiah held her gaze on him, but said nothing. Will could smell Alulim as well and knew he must be moments away.

"I must go," he said. "Please come with me."

She shook her head subtly. "What shall I tell him then?"

"Tell him I went hunting. Tell him the fight with Gus took a toll and I needed to feed."

They stood in silence, matching each other's look of despair.

"I love you," Will said.

The expression on Satiah's face was unchanged by the words and she made no reply. Will knew he was out of time. He turned and raced toward the road Evangelos had instructed him to travel along in the event of an emergency.

# 18

Evangelos rode the sheik's camel for nearly thirty miles before the camel could go no further. He was two hours into his trip and had yet to see any sign of a vehicle that would accommodate Will for travel during the day. He ran another thirty minutes, covering roughly another thirty miles, and was beginning to lose stamina when he heard the rumble of an engine. It was a military vehicle, he could safely assume that, but he needed it to be the right one.

He sprinted another half mile, then ducked off onto the side of the road, crouching down in the form of a frog. Moments later, he spotted the two and a half ton cargo truck jostling down the road. The rear bed was fully covered in canvas and from about a hundred yards out he could see two Italian soldiers in the front cab. As the vehicle approached him, he leapt onto the roof of the cab. The truck jolted to a halt, but Evangelos maintained his balance. The passenger placed his hand up on the roof and he began to pull himself out the open window to investigate the noise, but before he could, Evangelos took hold of his wrist and yanked him up, taking him by the throat as the soldier's feet dangled in the air.

"Lauf," Evangelos said, showing him his fangs. "Run," he said again in English, then threw the soldier off the roof and onto the dessert sand about five yards off the road. The soldier stumbled as he tried to climb to his feet, and once he was upright, he sprinted away into the desert night.

The soldier in the driver seat flung his door open and jumped out, fumbling with a pistol. Not wanting any shots fired, Evangelos descended upon him, ripping the pistol from the soldier's grasp before he could even get a finger on the trigger. He held the barrel against the soldier's forehead. "Lauf," Evangelos said.

The soldier immediately turned and ran in the opposite direction of his counterpart. Evangelos walked to the back of the truck to check for additional soldiers, but when he pulled back the canvas flap, he found only one – an American, lying on the floor of the bed, badly beaten. Likely intended as a warning to other Allied soldiers. Evangelos could smell that his blood was still warm, and could see the faint carotid pulse under the angle of his jaw. He was alive, but barely, and wouldn't be much longer. Evangelos examined the glowing red blood on the man's face and torso, and recalled how irresistible the smell and sight of it had been to him just days before. His thoughts turned to Will. The soldier was going to die anyway, and if he could get to Will before that happened, it would be a good opportunity for Will to feed. It was a risk to go back toward the Matmata before dawn, but there was also risk in sitting around in an Italian cargo truck in the middle of the desert waiting for Will to come to him.

Evangelos gave the American soldier another look-over and considered the people back home who loved him and who were depending on him to return home safe – a parent, a sibling, a wife, a child, or maybe just good friends who loved him as if he were family. Evangelos found the compassion he lost when humans had become his prey; the same compassion Will had never lost. He closed the canvas flap, then climbed into the driver's seat and headed back toward Matmata in hopes he would spot Will wandering the road.

Evangelos had been driving more than twenty minutes and was getting dangerously closer to Matmata than he had hoped to when he spotted Will coming toward him about a hundred yards down the road. Before Evangelos could come to a full stop, Will was at the passenger door. He pulled the door open and jumped into the seat.

"Thank God it's you," he said. "We've got to move."

The truck jolted to a halt. Evangelos cut the wheel and shifted into reverse, backing the truck off the road, then punched it forward again, spinning sand and gravel under the wheels as the truck sped off in the opposite direction.

"Do you think he's onto you?" Evangelos said.

"Satiah is buying us time."

Evangelos slammed his palm against the top of the steering wheel. "Dammit, Will. I warned you about her."

"She's keeping him off our trail."

"And did you ask her to come with us?"

Will was silent.

"You did," Evangelos said. "And she declined."

"She has her reasons."

"And what do you think those reasons are, Will?" Evangelos said, shifting gears up a speed. "I'll tell you, in case you're still trying to figure it out. It's because of her allegiance to Alulim. The same allegiance that will cause her to give you up to him."

"She won't do that to me.

"Maybe not right this moment, and I'm not saying her feelings for you aren't genuine, but her loyalty to him is too great. She will bend to his will before long."

"You're wrong."

"I've never wanted to be more wrong about something, but it's inevitable."

The two were silent for the next twenty minutes as Evangelos drove the truck with the pedal against the floor, slightly letting up only to maneuver sharp curves in the road. Evangelos looked down at the fuel gauge. "We're going to have to pull over briefly to refuel both you and the truck. There should be a gas can in back and there's a body for you to feed on."

"Who is it?" Will said.

Evangelos let his foot off the pedal and steered the truck to the side of the road. "An American," he said. "Barely alive, if at all by this point."

The truck was still crawling to a stop as Will pushed his door open and jumped out. Evangelos applied the brake and shifted into park before climbing out after him. When he got to the back of the truck, Will was inside, leaning over the soldier. His hand was pressed against the soldier's chest and he was mumbling something in Gaelic. Evangelos could see the light under Will's palm radiating into the soldier's chest. When Will finished, there was still no movement.

"He's too far gone," Evangelos said.

Will's head hung over the soldier in defeat. "But he's still alive."

"That's good. You can still feed on him."

Will shook his head gently.

"You can't help him, Will, but he can help you. He's been handed his death sentence, now let him provide one final act to help the greater good. You must feed and we are low on options and on time."

Will was motionless for a moment, then dove his fangs into the soldier's neck like a gull diving its beak through the surface of the ocean to claim its prey. Evangelos climbed in and found the gas can he needed. By the time he was done filling the tank, Will had finished draining the soldier. Will was standing outside the bed of the truck staring in at the lifeless body when Evangelos came around to return the gas can and it's remaining contents. "Best to take him with us," Evangelos said, "we don't want to leave a trail for Alulim when he comes looking."

"He should have a proper burial," Will said.

"He will. We need to travel north to Béja and we need to avoid traveling too far west until we get there in order to avoid the battlefield. Allied forces are pushing in from the east. We won't be safe crossing over in this vehicle, so we need to get to Béja before sunrise and sneak into Allied territory, then commandeer one of their trucks to get to Algiers. We'll dump this truck as close to the frontline as we can without it being blown up and eventually the Allies will encounter and inspect it."

Will gave a silent, gentle nod as he continued to stare at the body.

"You gave him a kinder death than the one he was enduring," Evangelos said, patting Will on the shoulder. "Now we need to get moving. We've got about six hours to get to Béja and make all this happen before sunrise, and it's at least a five hour ride, assuming we don't run into any trouble. If we don't make it in time to beat the sun, we'll have to sit idle in Bizerte for the day and we'll miss our window of opportunity to gain a day on Alulim and make it safely into Spain." He gave Will one more strong pat on the back. "Jump in the passenger seat and let's get moving."

# 19

Will and Evangelos arrived in Béja without incident and without much more than thirty minutes to spare before sunrise. They abandoned the truck by railroad tracks running near the bridgehead of Tunisia. "The Axis troops are being driven back," Evangelos had told Will, "and soon the Allied forces will take all of Tunisia, and someone will find this vehicle."

Together they traversed the battle front, moving at speeds too rapid for the human eye to identify, and skirting concentrated military targets under the veil of night. After crossing into Allied territory, they came upon a small makeshift American camp and seized an idling Red Cross ambulance roughly ten yards from the largest tent in the camp. The rear door leading to the bed of the vehicle had been left open and there were no patients inside.

"I hate the idea of taking an ambulance from them," Evangelos heard Will thinking.

"They have others," Evangelos communicated to him, "and an ambulance is ideal if we want to make it to Algiers in broad daylight undisturbed. Now climb in back there and try and get some rest. The ride will be bumpy, but you need your sleep."

Will did as instructed. Evangelos climbed into the driver's seat and gently put the ambulance in gear, allowing the tires to creep slowly onto the road a few yards away before picking up speed and racing away from the camp toward the arid desert mountains in the distance, the peaked outlines of which were growing more distinct by the moment against the backdrop of the scarlet sunrise.

When they reached Algiers, there was nearly an hour of daylight left before Will would be able to leave the ambulance. The city of Algiers was bustling with citizens going about their day, so much so that even a Red Cross ambulance was able to park along the road without seeming uncommon or out of place. Evangelos watched as men, women, and children hurried along sidewalks and scurried from one side of the road to the other, dodging the cars running in either direction. A large street car stopped about thirty yards up the road and there was a mass exodus, primarily men in dark business suits, out its doors, battling against the tide of commuters pushing to board the car before it departed as streams of last-minute passengers followed suit, also mostly men in suits, scuttling up and down the sidewalks and across the street, causing traffic to come to a semi-halt. Most moved at a rapid pace, but did not bend their knees or kick their legs, seemingly to avoid the appearance of sprinting. Evangelos examined them, like rats in a science experiment. The stress of human life – needing to work, needing to be at work on time, needing to be other places outside of work within a given timeframe in order to avoid upsetting or disappointing other humans – had been replaced by a feeling of nostalgia; a slight longing for the blissful ignorance of life within the personal bubble people create for themselves and for the things that matter to them.

There was minimal military presence on the street. Evangelos spotted two American soldiers walking along leisurely, smoking cigarettes and reviewing a newspaper together, and another rode past on a motorbike. Evangelos gave the metal frame of the entryway to the bed of the ambulance a moderate tap with his knuckle. "I'm going to walk down to the harbor, scope it out," he said to Will. "We've got about an hour till sunset. Stay under the blanket and I'll lock the doors."

"Alright."

Evangelos exited the ambulance, locked the doors as he said he would, then walked in the direction of the streetcar that was pulling away with a carful of bodies, leaving a small gaggle of disappointed and out of breath civilians behind. Just near where these abandoned passengers stood, Evangelos turned down a road that took him to a street overlooking the harbor. He leaned on a lamppost along the sidewalk and surveyed the port. There were military vessels and personnel, mainly American and British, by the dozens. Some stood around conversing and smoking, while most were busy either unloading cargo or preparing ships for departure. Evangelos assessed the multitude of ships along the docks in search of his escape plan. He came upon a royal motor gun boat, smaller and speedier than most, and with minimal foot traffic around the area it occupied. He turned his gaze to the skyline. The sun was perched atop the ocean in the distance. Evangelos remained there, rested against the lamppost, watching the sun slowly begin to sink into the Mediterranean Sea. His skin showed no evidence of it, but felt as though it were sizzling in a fry pan over a low flame. He had learned to cope with the aversion, as if it were any type on non-life-threatening ailment or allergy, and had even come to accept it as a type of normalcy.

When there was roughly ten minutes of dusk remaining, Evangelos strolled back to the ambulance, walking the sidewalks as if he were any other person occupying the streets of the city. He was struck by the number of laughs he heard and smiling faces he spotted moving past him. With the exception of warships temporarily squatting in their harbor, it was a beautiful coastal city and he imagined the food and the wine were a fitting compliment, making it an enjoyable city to reside in with friends and family. He weighed this against the bleakness of war that raged just across the desert, and considered the juxtaposition of Heaven and Hell. Would someone be able to travel between the two in the afterlife as swiftly as he and Will and traveled from the hell of war in Tunisia to the heavenly coast of Algeria? he wondered.

Alulim had chastised him any time he would inquire about the afterlife for vampires who are destroyed, telling him he didn't need to worry about meeting that fate, but Evangelos was curious about what fate awaited him if and when the time came.

When he arrived at the ambulance, dusk had fully transitioned to night. He tapped on the side of the ambulance and within a moment, Will exited the back and was walking beside him back toward the harbor.

"I found a boat. It's small and fast, so we should be in Spain within eight or nine hours, which will give us plenty of time to get to Valencia and hop a train to the north coast," Evangelos said.

"You sound very confident," Will said.

"This is not my first rodeo, cowboy. It's just my hastiest."

When they returned to the harbor, the number of soldiers working the dock had diminished, but a few remained. Will and Evangelos hurdled the wall along the sidewalk onto the docks below. They walked casually toward the boat until eventually a Royal Naval officer approached them. "Something I can help you gentlemen with?" he said.

Evangelos pointed toward the boat as they continued walking. "Is that a royal motor gun boat?" he said.

"Yes, yes it is," the officer said.

"Wow, it's brilliant. Do you know how to operate it?"

"Yes sir, I do. Why do you ask?"

Evangelos continued toward the boat, which was just several yards away. Without speaking, he instructed Will to find a sharp object to cut the dock lines, then he took hold of the back of the officer's neck and jumped with him into the boat. Before the officer could make a sound, Evangelos squeezed harder and exposed his fangs. They glistened in the moonlight. "You're going to get us out of here and take us to the Port of Alicante," he said. "Do exactly as we say and you'll live."

Evangelos released the officer, who nodded frantically.

"Okay," the officer said.

"Let's go then," Evangelos said.

The officer hurried to the controls and Evangelos inspected the area. The more disruption we cause, he thought, the more of a trail we leave for Alulim. No one seemed to have taken notice of them.

Will came rushing back with a large, rusted fishing knife. As dull as it was, he swung it with such force that it sliced through each of the thick ropes like they were meek cornstalks. He jumped in the boat. "Go," he said.

The officer navigated the boat out of the harbor and into the open sea where he pushed it nearly as fast as it could go, heading northwest toward Spain.

It was late when they arrived at the Port of Alicante, and the harbor was quiet. Will and Evangelos jumped onto land before the boat was even docked, and without saying a word to the officer who had escorted them, they headed to the streets of Alicante where they hijacked a ride north to Valencia and boarded the first of two trains that would lead them to the coast of Santander. They were safely on the second train before daybreak and when they arrived at the station in Santander, they had several hours of daylight to waste before they could leave. The station was newly built and Evangelos guided Will, hunched over and shrouded in a blanket as though he were a blind elder, off the train and over to a poorly lit corner of the station where they remained until sunset.

They commandeered a ferry out of the marina to the war-ravaged city of Plymouth on the south coast of England. The trip took the full night and all of the following day, and they arrived about two hours after nightfall. Their plan had been to travel up through Wales and into Holyhead on the northeast coast, and from there take a ferry straight into Dublin and be there before dawn, however, Will had not fed since the soldier back in Tunisia nearly three days prior. They were roughly two hours from Holyhead, driving through the county of Ceredigion, when Evangelos glanced over at Will in the passenger seat and found him slumped against the door, his eyes closed and his cheeks sunken. The contour of his body and the tone of his skin made Evangelos think of a wilting white lily.

"You need to feed before we try to get on the ferry," Evangelos said.

Will groaned, but did not open his eyes. Evangelos pulled the car to the side of the road.

"Rather than rush it and risk having to get you off the ferry in Dublin in broad daylight," Evangelos said, "I think we should find a place for you to feed and hideout for the day, then leave for Dublin at sunset and get there with plenty of time to get to Trinity and figure out our game plan."

Will's head nodded slightly.

"Good then," Evangelos said. "We've got three days on Alulim anyway. It's the best we could have hoped for. We'll have to stay vigilant though. The world is a smaller place for vampires than it is for humans."

Evangelos pulled back onto the road and drove until he spotted a long, single floor cottage several yards back from the street. He turned into the driveway and let his foot off the pedal, allowing it to glide quietly to an eventual stop, then killed the engine. Every room of the cottage was dark and Evangelos could smell blood inside the home. Though he didn't crave it any longer, he could still smell it the way a human smells a sizzling steak on a hot grill. He gave Will's shoulder a squeeze. "You're going to have to feed on some innocent folks tonight, Will."

Will grunted in disagreement and shook his head.

"You don't have to kill anyone. You can drink sparingly, but you need something soon or it is going to take you weeks to recover, and a lot of human blood to do so. As it is now, it's going to take you a few days to feel normal again. You're still evolving. It's too soon for you to have gone so long without feeding. I wish you would have listened to me on the boat."

"There is no normal," Will said in a barely audible voice.

"Well, you're not going to be any good to anyone if you can't make it to Dublin."

Will remained motionless.

"You're not going to kill these people," Evangelos said, "I won't let you. That soldier was already a breath away from dead, there's nothing you could have done differently."

There was no response from Will.

Evangelos squeezed his shoulder again. "We don't have a choice, my friend. This is our best and only option. We have to make it to Dublin in less than fifteen hours and you can barely walk." Evangelos opened his door and put one foot on the ground. "Now follow my lead." He exited the car, leaving the door open, and gently crept to the front door of the cottage where he waited for Will.

Will followed and when he reached the door, Evangelos gave the wooden door three strong knocks. A dog began barking, but there were no other signs of life in the house. Evangelos gave it another pounding and before he could finish, a light went on in one of the rooms.

"Please help," Evangelos said in a loud, pleading voice. "We need help."

Evangelos draped his arm over Will's shoulders and pulled him close. He had done it for show, but Will leaned into him and Evangelos found himself actually supporting Will's weight.

"Who is it?" the voice of a young man said from the other side of the door.

The dog was at the door as well and began barking furiously again. The man shushed it.

"We need a phone," Evangelos said. "My brother is ill and our car is giving us trouble. I need to have him on the morning ferry to Dublin for treatment."

There was a whispering from behind the door between a few adults.

"We'll call you an ambulance," the young man finally said, but gave no indication of opening the door.

"Thank you," Evangelos said. "Could we please use your phone to call our father? He is meant to be meeting us in Dublin. And my brother could really use a cup of tea, if you could be so kind. I'm terribly sorry for the hour. We hadn't any choice given his condition."

More whispering from behind the door, and a moment later an exterior light on the house just beside the door frame was turned on. The door was unlocked, and a man of no more than twenty years old opened the door. He was cautious, but standing not far behind him was an older man with a shotgun. An older woman of roughly the same age gasped when she saw them.

"Oh dear, look at this man," she said, shuffling toward them in over-sized slippers and a thick, ratty robe. She motioned them forward. "Come in, come in," she said.

They did as they were instructed and Evangelos closed the door behind him.

The woman pulled out a chair from their dining table. "Give your brother a seat," she said.

Evangelos lowered Will into the chair with such ease that the older man examined his stature, wondering how such a slender man could transport another grown man as though he were lifting a toddler into a highchair. Will leaned his elbows against the table, keeping his body upright, but his head low. The dog sat in the corner, whimpering and fidgeting, not knowing whether to greet the guests, attack them, or just hide.

"I'll fix that tea," the woman said, shuffling toward the adjacent kitchen.

"And I'll call the ambulance," the young man said.

Against the wall opposite the door they had entered through was a wooden dry sink. The young man retrieved the handset from the phone that was sitting in it and leaned down to get a better look at the dial pad in the dimly lit room. Before he could press a button, Evangelos was by his side, taking hold of the handset. He placed it back on the phone and the young man took a step back. Evangelos was about to explain himself, but instead had to rush to disarm the older man who was lifting the barrel of the shotgun at Evangelos.

"Good God," the older man said, stumbling back and catching his balance against the wall.

"Dad," the younger man said, motioning toward the older man, but quickly withdrawing as he caught sight on Evangelos standing between them with the shotgun in his hands.

The dog released one loud bark, standing for a moment, but quickly sat again and returned to its whimpering state.

The woman came racing from the kitchen, and with no concern for Evangelos, rushed to her husband's side. "What do you want from us?" she said.

Evangelos placed the shotgun on the table in front of Will, who had not flinched during the entire ordeal. "We are not here to rob you or to kill you," Evangelos said. "I promise you that, so please take a breath."

The three family members remained frozen with disbelief.

"This man does need your help," Evangelos continued, motioning to Will, "but it's not a condition that can be helped through medical attention."

The family relaxed slightly, their fear being overcome by curiosity.

"This man's name is Will." Evangelos walked over to Will, his head still down, and placed his hand on Will's upper back. "He survives on blood just as you survive on food and water, and as you can see, he is extremely malnourished."

The young man's face contorted. "You mean like a vampire?" he said.

"That is one word used to identify us, yes."

"You're both bloodsuckers?" the older man said, still huddled against the wall with his wife.

"I don't believe that nonsense," the woman said. "They're having a go at us, they are." She stared at Evangelos with venom in her eyes. "We're not stupid people, so just take what you want and get out. We don't need to be bothered with whatever stupid game you planned to play in the process."

Evangelos exposed his fangs to the family. "Show them, Will," he said.

Will lifted his head slowly, as though it were being anchored by a cinderblock. He toured the room with his eyes, giving special attention to the family who lived in it. They reminded him of his own family. The young man was roughly the same age as Will when he left the cottage he had lived in with his mom and dad for the war. It was the first he had really thought about his parents in days and he wondered how they were doing. It pained him to consider the heartbreak they must be enduring, having to live with the assumption that he had either been killed in Africa or had been taken prisoner.

Will presented his fangs to the family in the least threatening manner he could, as if he were a child showing off the gap in his smile left by his first missing tooth. The woman moaned in distress, and with the help of her husband, lowered herself to the floor.

"It's the devil incarnate," she said.

"It's a curse," Will said in low voice, imagining his own mother uttering similar words if she were to see what he had become.

The young man lifted his fists. "You're not going to bite my mother with those things, demon," he said.

"He will only take enough to nourish himself," Evangelos said. "You won't even notice the blood is missing."

"And what about you?" the older man said to Evangelos. "I suppose you're going to want some of our blood as well then."

Evangelos shook his head. "I no longer require it."

The room was silent for several moments, save for the dog still crying to itself in the corner. The younger man stood on guard, prepared to sacrifice himself for his mother, while his parents remained on the ground – the woman sitting and her husband crouched next to her.

"We're not going to kill anyone, and when we leave here at nightfall, we'll take nothing with us. Until then, Will here needs to feed. I do not want to hurt anyone, but we can do this the hard way or we can do it the easy way."

The family said nothing.

"Fair enough then," Evangelos said. He took a step toward the young man, who cocked his clenched fist.

Will took hold of Evangelos' forearm. "Wait," he said. "I don't want to do it if they're not going to consent."

"You don't have a choice," Evangelos said.

"I'll die before I harm these people." Will looked up at the family and caught each of their gazes. "I can imagine what you are feeling right now. I haven't always been what I am, and so I know what it's like to learn that creatures like us exist. My parents were driven from their home in Galway by vampires before I was born and they spent their entire lives living with the fear of encountering another. My own first encounter wasn't as pleasant as the one you're currently experiencing, as you can tell by the end result." Will rubbed his fangs with his thumb and forefinger, becoming lost for a moment in his own thoughts.

The woman's face saddened and Evangelos could see that she had taken some semblance of pity on Will. "Do your parents know what has become of you?" she said.

This broke Will from his trance. "No. Never. It would break their hearts to see that their son is now one of the heinous creatures who slaughtered my grandparents. Best they think I was killed in the war."

The woman used her husband's shoulder to push herself to her feet. He assisted her, but with wild confusion as to why she was engaging the vampire. The woman took a step toward the table where Will sat. "That can't be true," she said. "A mother would rather their son any way but dead. And you don't seem nearly as wicked as the vampires who did those terrible things to your family." She took another step toward Will and her husband reached out his hand and took hold of her arm. "I'm alright," she said.

"Well I'm not alright with any of it," he said to her, then turned his attention to Evangelos. "You said you won't kill us, but you didn't say anything about not making us into vampires like yourselves. Is that your plan? Bite us to get our blood and turn us into one of you?"

"It doesn't work like that," Evangelos said. "We can take what we need of your blood without any side effects."

"I don't believe it," the older man said.

His wife turned her head to his ear. "If they wanted to harm us, I think they'd have done it already," she said in a low voice, as though the rest of the room would not be able hear every word. "I think we should help this young man. What if it were our own son afflicted by this?"

"He's not a young man, he's a vampire," the husband said, with no concern for who in the room could hear him. "Lord knows what type of bloody infection you'll contract if you let that thing sink its teeth into you."

"Mind your manners," she said to him with gritted teeth. She looked at Will. "Are there any risks?"

"No, ma'am."

"I will go first then." She pulled free of her husband's grasp and moved closer to Will.

"Ma, have you lost your mind?" the younger man said.

"I'm doing it for his mother. You and your father can't understand that, and that's fine, but you'll have to trust in me that we are doing the right thing." She sat down next to Will. "I'm doing this on a condition though."

"Whatever you need," Will said.

"Promise me that when you get to Ireland, you will visit your parents. And believe what I'm telling you. A vampire son with a good heart is a lifetime better than a dead son."

Will considered the proposition. "I will at least write to them and leave the decision with them. I don't have it in me to show up unannounced looking like this."

"Fair enough then." She bent her head against her left shoulder. "Is it the neck you drink from?"

"Not for situations like this," Will said. "The inside of your forearm will do just fine, thank you."

She pulled up the sleeve of her nightgown and rested her arm across the table before him.

"It's going to pinch a little," Will said. "I'll take no more than a pint, but if for some reason I get greedy, Evangelos here will let me know it."

She grinned. "You have the most wonderful eyes."

He returned the smile. "Thank you."

Will bit into her. She winced and the dog barked once.

"God help us," the husband said.

"You should go next," Evangelos said to the son. "He could use the blood of someone with your youth."

The young man begrudgingly pulled his sleeve up.

When they were finished and each of the family members had given Will their share, Will moved to the son's bedroom, which was the darkest room in the house according to the family. The couple returned to their own bed, their son lay down on the sofa, and Evangelos stepped outside to watch the sunrise. The field across the road was a sea of blackness to the human eye, and the line of trees Evangelos could see about fifty yards away from him wouldn't even be visible as dark shadows to a human. He stood against the cottage, waiting for the sun to crest over the tree line, and he felt the desire for a pipe of tobacco. Not a craving in the sense that a human craves the nicotine, but more a sense of nostalgia, like it would be a nice thing to do – smoking a pipe in the quiet morning hours as he watched the sun come up over the land, land that very much resembled where he grew up, while the rest of the world was still at rest, including other vampires. He hadn't had a pipe in years and the thought of it made him pause, realizing that since his desire and need to consume blood had disappeared, he had no vices, nor had he any appetite for anything – no blood, no tobacco, no liquor, no food or water, not even sleep. Is this what it's like to be truly dead? He thought. No dependencies on anything for survival?

As he pondered the idea and how it might relate to his current state of being, he spotted a movement in between the trees across the field, or thought he had. He scanned the area with his eyes and quickly came upon the object; a figure, standing between and almost camouflaged by two trees to the far right of the field, just before the land dropped off. It was a vampire. He didn't recognize the male, but it was staring directly back as if he recognized Evangelos. Evangelos waited, hoping the vampire would share a friendly nod, as if to say, "Good to see another of our kind around these parts," but there was none of that. They stared one another down for several moments. Evangelos thought about running at him, but thought better of it; the vampire might have superior abilities, and even if it didn't, it could have been a trap. Evangelos was going to speak, but the figure disappeared with just enough time to avoid the break of dawn.

Something about the encounter didn't feel right. It might have simply been a curious vampire, or even a young vamp like Will, uncertain of how to approach Evangelos and whether it was safe, but vampires were always cordial to one another, at least initially. This vampire's stare was cold. Not angry, but not warm.

His sunrise ruined, Evangelos returned inside.

# 20

Will slept until Evangelos woke him about an hour before sundown. Evangelos told Will about what he had seen, and about his fear that the mysterious vampire was one of Alulim's moles.

"We need to be on our way to Holyhead the instant the last ray of light disappears," Evangelos said. "I'll get the car running and ready to go just before then, so as soon as you leave the house we can be on the road before the any vampires have time to come here looking for us."

"And what about this family? What if the vampires question them?" Will said.

"We'll tell them not to open the door after nightfall, not for anyone or anything."

Will shook his head and grunted. "You should have sent them off somewhere else, Evangelos."

"You need more of their blood before we leave here, or you'll have no chance of survival should we be confronted by other vampires. Even then you won't be at full strength, but rations from each of these people is better than nothing."

"And at what cost? This family is going to be in danger."

"I'm not happy about that any more than you are, but my priority is to your well-being. For whatever reason, it seems the mission of being your guardian has been placed upon me. Whether it be by God or some other force, I don't intend to question it, and I do intend to do all that is in my power to succeed at it." Evangelos turned to leave the bedroom, but stopped at the doorway. "These people will be fine. They'll stay inside tonight and by tomorrow, any vampires looking for us will realize we are not here and will focus their efforts elsewhere. Now let's get moving."

Evangelos exited and Will stood from the bed to follow.

When the sun was dropping and Will had finished drinking from each member of the family, Evangelos pulled the car out of the driveway and positioned it north, toward Holyhead. He sat idling in the road in front of the cottage, staring through the windshield at the darkening sky, waiting for the exact moment when the light of the sun would be fully extinguished. He had left the passenger door open, and Will was in the passenger seat within a second of nightfall. Evangelos pushed the car as fast as it would go, shifting gears prematurely in an effort to get to full speed as quickly as possible. He weaved around other cars in the road, took corners, and sped through intersections without any consideration for the brake pedal and without any headlights on.

As they were speeding down a length of road surrounded on either side by falling hills of grass and trees, Evangelos spotted a vehicle driving toward them on the opposite side of the road. He didn't think much of it initially – they had passed several cars by that point and Evangelos was focused on the task of navigating the road as rapidly as he could and being cognizant of vampires leaping out of trees and hidden curves in the road – but at the moment it registered with him that the other vehicle was also driving hastily and without headlights, it swerved sharply just as they were about to pass each other, and before Evangelos could do anything to avoid it, the front end of the other car batter-rammed the driver's side fender, and like a pile driver it shoved them off the road. Their car somersaulted down the uneven hills and into a gorge, landing topside down.

"You alright?" Will said.

"Quick, we need to get out of here," Evangelos said.

They each pushed their doors open, but before they could exit, Alulim's voice spoke. "Red rover, red rover, can Will come over?"

Will and Evangelos looked at each other. "Whatever power you used on Gus, we better hope it's powerful enough to battle Alulim," Evangelos said to Will without a spoken word.

"If you run, I will kill you both," Alulim said from somewhere in the valley surrounding them. "If you attack me, I will kill you. If you come out and explain yourselves, well I might let you keep your heads."

Will and Evangelos climbed from the battered vehicle, on guard and prepared to be assailed, but there was no immediate attack. They explored their surroundings and saw that there was no exit plan, at least not without a struggle and certain defeat. A spattering of vampires occupied the hills of the gorge they were contained in, mostly vampires Evangelos had never met – three stood to the west, which might have been their only hope of escape if they could have made it to the sea, another two lurked within a line of trees to the south, and two more prowled the field to the north – and Alulim stood on the hill to the east that they had careened down, Satiah by his side.

"How did you find us so quickly?" Evangelos said.

"I am the oldest creature walking this earth. This world is my eyes and my ears."

"And you had a little help getting started, of course," Evangelos said, nodding at Satiah.

"Why?" Will said, staring up at up at Satiah.

"It was inevitable that he would find you," she said. "If you come now though, he has promised not to kill you."

Will shook his head, as if to ask her how she could have done this to him.

"It is for your own good, you will see that in time," she said.

Alulim took a step forward to get Will's attention. He stood about twenty yards from them. "I understand you have questions about the tomb you found," Alulim said. "You should have just come to me in the first place. I have nothing to hide from you, Will."

"I don't believe that," Will said. "I think that's exactly what you are doing. Hiding stuff from me. From all of us." Will casually waved his open hand around, presenting the group of vampires scattered around.

"Let me prove it to you then," Alulim said.

"I'd like to see that," Will said.

"First I'm going to need that piece of parchment you took." Alulim pointed to one of the vampires standing thirty yards to the left of Will and Evangelos. "You. Retrieve the paper from Will and bring it to me."

"I don't have it," Will said.

"Tsk-tsk, Will. Lying to me is not going to help you right now." Alulim motioned to both of the vampires to Will's left. "Both of you. Get the parchment from Will's pocket. You can be rough with Will if that's the way he wants it, but be very gentle with the paper."

The two vampires did as they were told, one in front of the other. Will turned to face them with no intention of giving it up.

"Duck," Evangelos told Will without speaking a word.

Will crouched down, and as he did, Evangelos tore the driver side door from their vehicle and hurled it like a Frisbee over Will's head, straight at the two young vampires. It came at them with such unexpected force that they did not react. The door sailed through each of their necks, one right after the other, decapitating them. The door and their heads bounced across the ground like a fistful of awkwardly shaped marbles. Evangelos stepped onto the turned-over car, using it as a pedestal, and turned to address the vampires to the east and to the south. "I'm feeling strong tonight. Which one of you am I going to kill next," he said, motioning them toward him.

All five of the vampires looked to Alulim for instruction. Alulim raised an open palm to them, instructing them to stay put and ignore Evangelos' challenge. "Of all the vampires on this earth, I think it will pain me to kill you most of all, Evangelos."

Satiah looked at Alulim strangely, taken aback by the comment.

"I had very big plans for you and your special abilities," Alulim continued. "But alas, it seems I can no longer trust you, and therefore I must kill you."

"That's not going to happen," Will said.

Evangelos turned back to face Alulim. "At least not before I destroy your vile girlfriend," he said, then turned his fiery gaze upon Satiah.

Satiah hissed at him. "Everyone, settle down," she said, and looked to Alulim, "please."

Alulim again took just one step forward. "I don't understand this sedition. After all I have given to both of you."

"What have you given us?" Will said.

"Immortality. Immortality with great abilities."

"A curse. And to what end?" Will said.

"I've lectured you on patience. The pieces are all falling into place for us. In due time you will all understand your roles and will reap the rewards of your loyalty and your trust in me."

Evangelos stepped off of the car and stood beside Will. "He needs us," he silently told Will, "otherwise, we'd already be dead."

"He's also timid, seems he doesn't want to get too close. Satiah must have told him what happened with Gus. You were right about her and I'm sorry I've led us to this. I was blinded by my affection for her."

"Goes to show you, no matter the species, women are our Achilles heel." He nudged Will.

"Time to get out of here," Will told him.

Will stepped on the car, admiring the intimidation factor it had provided Evangelos moments before. "We are leaving now," Will said. "If your goons try to stop us, we will kill each of them with minimal effort."

Evangelos joined Will on the car and again addressed the vampires guarding the perimeter. "Yes we will."

"But it's clear by now that the four of us would prefer not to do battle," Will continued. "Evangelos and I are prepared to though if needed, so I suggest we call a truce and go our separate ways."

Evangelos ripped two pieces of the car's metal frame off and held the jagged shafts like swords in each hand. He hissed at Satiah. "Give me a reason, you old bitch."

Alulim and Satiah made no response. Will leapt off the car and Evangelos followed. They headed north toward the field where the two dead vampire's bodies lay. Without saying a word, Alulim motioned to the five other vampires to seize them. Evangelos glanced back to see them coming. "Looks like Alulim wants to see just how dangerous your powers are," He said to Will.

They both stopped to face the onslaught. "Take the two on the right," Evangelos said, "I've got the other three.

"Godspeed," Will said.

They ran toward their adversaries, vaulting at them when there was about ten yards between them. Evangelos came down upon two of his three with the long shards of metal, piercing through their skulls. As he landed, he ripped the makeshift swords from their heads, carving out much of their brains along with them. The vampires, not quite dead, fell to the ground, screaming and writhing in pain. The third vampire hit Evangelos with a flying drop kick that sent Evangelos tumbling across the dirt and grass terrain. The vampire started after Evangelos with a closed fist, hoping to hit him again before Evangelos had his bearings, but stop abruptly when he saw what had happened between Will and the other two vampires.

Much like Evangelos, Will had come down upon the heads of his two vampires, but instead of a weapon, he came down with an open hand clamped onto each of their faces. He drove their heads into dirt as he landed. The ultraviolet rays from his palms encompassed their heads, and just as with Gus, they ignited within moments. Will was practically blinded by the light of the flame as it spread to their shoulders. They fought for their release, and unlike with Gus, Will let them go before they were fully dead, wanting to save his strength in case he needed it for Alulim. The two vampires scrambled to their feet and began pleading for the help of Alulim as they scampered in circles, eventually bumping into one another, then climbing to their feet again and sprinting off in opposite directions. As the remaining vampire stood watching in horror of what Will had done to his counterparts, Evangelos jumped to his feet and beheaded the vampire with one fell swoop of the weapon in his right hand.

Before Will and Evangelos had time to react, they turned to see Alulim charging at Will. He swung at Will with an open hand, the lengthy fingernails of which were sharp and had become thick, hardened, yellow claws over time. The nails pierced Will's left pectoral and tore through his chest and stomach muscles, ripping strings of flesh off through Will's shirt. Alulim swung his other hand at Will, aiming for the neck, but Will turned in an effort to avoid the attack, and instead Alulim took a deep slice out of his right shoulder, tearing the shirt off of Will.

Will struck Alulim with a reflexive punch to the nose, smashing the cartilage inside of it. Before Alulim could counter, Satiah jumped between them. "Please stop," she said to Alulim.

Alulim thrust her out of his way and she tumbled along the ground, landing within a few yards of Evangelos. As she was getting up, Evangelos speared her with one of the metal shards. He aimed right between her shoulder blades, but she looked up just as it was coming down on her and as she attempted to roll out of its way, the blade skewered her left shoulder, exiting through her armpit. She whimpered and moaned out a sound like that of a child crying.

Will was in the midst of dodging a slash at his face when her cry caught his attention. "Don't," Will said to Evangelos.

Evangelos was already swinging the other blade at her, hoping to take her head off with it. She jolted back, trying to duck out of the way, and the metal grazed the tip of her ear, taking a piece of it off along with a length of hair. She jumped to her feet with the shaft of metal still lodged in her shoulder.

"Both of you stop it," Will said.

Alulim's foot connected with Will's knee, snapping the joint out of place. Will fell to the ground and it snapped back into place, but the agony left him unguarded as he reached down to grab at the pain.

"I should have killed you the first time I had the chance," Alulim said.

Alulim kicked Will in the face with a force that cracked his cheekbone and almost snapped the top of his spine. Disoriented, all Will could manage to do was roll away. He was losing a lot of blood from the wounds to his torso and couldn't match Alulim's strength. He glanced up in an effort to pinpoint Alulim and caught a glimpse of Satiah and Evangelos. Satiah jumped to her feet and yanked the lance from her shoulder, screaming as she did it. She pulled it out just in time to use it to block another attempt at her neck. The battle shifted to a sword fight.

"Stop it," Will said.

Alulim came sailing through the air, the heel of his boot targeted at Will's head. Will grabbed Alulim's ankle and blasted his light into Alulim's leg. Alulim gurgled out a scream as his body fell perpendicular to Will's. Will held his grip and within moments the bottom half of Alulim's leg was ablaze. Alulim kicked Will in the thigh with his other leg and the force caused Will to spin around and lose hold of the ankle as Alulim yanked it away. Alulim remained on the ground frantically patting out the flames with his hands. Will stood to find a weapon, but instead found Evangelos in the last moment of his life as a vampire. Evangelos had swung his metal shaft at Satiah. Satiah spun to avoid it and as she came around, she swept his legs out from under him. His body flipped lengthwise and as he was about to slam to the ground, Satiah brought her weapon down and sliced his head off.

"No!" Will said.

A bright object, blinding to Will it was so bright, escaped from Evangelos' headless neck and shot into the branches of a nearby tree. A bird cawed loudly, then emerged from the tree. It was a raven. It circled overhead, and for a moment Will was reminded of the raven that had accompanied him everywhere until the night Alulim had turned him. Will turned his attention back to Satiah. "You killed him."

"He left me no choice," she said. Her eyes looked beyond Will and widened with alarm. "Look –"

Before she could get the words out, Alulim planted his fist into Will's lower back. Will collapsed to one knee as a pain shot up his spine and down through his legs. Alulim took hold of the back of Will's neck with one hand and the hamstring of his right leg with the other. He picked Will up, swung him around, and flung Will across the gorge and into a small gathering of old trees. Will's body slammed against a branch, snapping it off, then fell toward the earth, knocking trough several other branches like a pinball and taking a few more branches with him along the way. He landed face down in the gravel. Alulim rushed over and picked up the largest of the branches. He stood over Will. "You're strong for such a young progeny and too disobedient to be trusted," he said.

Satiah was standing twenty yards from them. "He will learn," she said. "Killing him does us no good, Alulim."

Alulim rushed to her. "Your perpetual affinity for him concerns me almost as much as his evolving powers do." He took hold of her throat. "Is there something I should know about?"

"I brought you to him," she said as best she could with her vocal chords squeezed.

Will pulled himself up against the tree and began limping toward them. "Let her go," he said.

Alulim turned to face Will, tightening his grip on Satiah as he did. "Seems the affinity is mutual."

"You sound surprised," Will said. "Could it be that you're the last to know about us?"

Alulim froze, the words hitting him harder than anything else Will had thrown at him.

Will continued to limp toward them, knowing the only chance he had of stopping Alulim was to get hold of his face as he had done to the other vampires. "Looks like I hit a nerve," Will said.

Alulim looked to Satiah for confirmation. The fear in her eyes told him all he needed to know. He tossed her to the ground, then whipped around and charged at Will with a velocity Will was too weakened to react to. Alulim sank the broken tree limb he was holding straight through Will and charged toward the nearest tree truck, propelling them into the air just before they reached the dead elm. They sailed into the tree at a speed so great that the limb Alulim had staked through Will's gut drove deeper into Will and sunk into the trunk of the tree, leaving Will pinned to it, his feet dangling three yards off the ground.

Satiah remained seated on the ground where Alulim had left her. "You don't have to do this," she said. "There is nothing between us, he is goading you. He's young and reckless, but he will learn."

Alulim dashed out of sight and Satiah was left there, examining Will and wondering if that was the end of it, if Alulim was so upset that he had made his point with Will and just abandoned the two of them. She was about to step toward Will in an effort to free him, but Alulim appeared from the sky and descended beside Will. He was holding a long, dense wooden post under one arm, and a string of barbed fence wire in the other hand. He hovered by the trunk of the tree and slid the post behind Will, who made no effort to prevent or even understand what was happening. Alulim then fastened the perpendicular post to the tree with barbed wired.

"You don't have to kill him," Satiah said.

Alulim lowered himself to the ground and picked up another broken tree limb. "I'm not going to kill him." He threw the limb at Will like a javelin and pierced his right bicep, pinning it to the post. "The sun is going to take care of that for me." He picked up another branch and fired it through Will's other arm. "Think of it as an offering to the Gods." He retrieved the last branch he saw and presented it to Satiah. "You can join him if you like."

Satiah subtly shook her head and turned away from them. Alulim hurled the last branch through Will's thigh. Will's body jerked involuntarily and his teeth clenched, but he was too battered and fatigued to even grunt at the pain.

"Let us go," Alulim said.

Satiah stood, reluctantly, and followed Alulim up the hill and out of the gorge, leaving the Parousia to fry in the morning sunlight.
PART TWO

# 21

Will wrapped the bodies of his dead parents, Seamus and Fallon, in fresh bed sheets and placed them by the rear door of their home. Though the sunlight couldn't harm him, he wouldn't be able to see well enough to bury them until nightfall. He spent the day scrubbing the cottage clean of their blood, stopping to smell items along the way in hopes they would remind him of his youth, pressing them against his nose so that he could appreciate them through the lingering smell of blood – a pillow, a fresh handkerchief of his mother's, his father's cap, his pipe – and they did bring back memories of his youth. Some felt like they were only just yesterday, even many of the earliest memories, while other more recent ones, such as his father escorting him off to the war, felt like an entire lifetime ago, a different life that he could barely relate to any more. The smell of his mother boiling a ham, or Aisling baking a pudding; things that once seemed like such an exciting reward at the end of a long day were things he couldn't or wouldn't bother to enjoy ever again. It wasn't just that he was a vampire now, it was the entirety of the life he had led since leaving the intimate bubble of an existence he had grown up in. It was the war and the things and the places he had seen. He had been half a world away in very different lands, and his youth in Clare felt like the story of a boy Will might have read in a children's book, and that story concluded the day the boy went off to join the service. It was as if Will had been reincarnated and was thinking back on the life he lived as a different person, and in a lot of ways, he thought he had been reincarnated – murdered and brought back to life as the creature he currently existed as.

Will's thoughts turned to Aisling. He had been so torn up by what he found when he arrived home that he hadn't considered where Aisling might be. It had been so long since he exchanged letters with his mother that Aisling could have died months ago and he'd be none the wiser to it. When he left for the war, he had resigned himself to the fact that he may never see her or his parents again, and when he was turned he accepted that he would be sure to never see them again, but making the choice not to was different than not having the choice at all. Never seeing his parents again, even if he decided he wanted to, felt as painful as the stake Alulim had impaled him with. He needed to find out what had become of Aisling, and if she were still alive. He needed to see the woman who had been an aunt and a confidant to him.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Will retreated to his old bedroom, the darkest room in the house, for a rest. He didn't know where to go next and there was so much he needed to do – avenging his parents and Evangelos, needing to find Aisling, and continuing on with the mission to Trinity College – and he wasn't certain where to start.

He felt for the parchment in his pocket. The one silver lining in the entire battle was that Alulim had become so preoccupied with his own jealously for Satiah that he had forgotten to take the ancient paper from him. Will knew what Evangelos would tell him to do – steer clear of Alulim and continue on to Trinity. Will had been so enraged during the first few hours after finding his parents that he wouldn't have considered anything but locating Alulim, but as the rage dissipated and sorrow surfaced, his thoughts were more rational. Alulim assumed he was dead, and that gave Will time to sort everything else out and plan for how he would retaliate.

First, he would find what had become of Aisling. Perhaps she would even make the journey to Dublin with him if she were well, and if she were able to accept him for what he had become. He hadn't a friend in the world at that moment though, and he would need one. He thought about Cormac for the first time in a while and wondered what he was up to and whether he was still at home with his parents. Will closed his eyes, deciding he would go find out that night, right after he finished burying his parents, but he would need his rest first.

Cormac wasn't in great condition when Will found him. Will had gone to his parent's house, where it turned out Cormac still lived but wasn't home at the time. Instead, Cormac's parents, who had welcomed Will inside with a warm embrace and zero suspicion of any changes in Will, explained that Cormac was at the pub where he had spent many a night since the untimely death of his fiancé about three months earlier. Will contemplated telling them of his own parent's death, especially after Cormac's mother said, "You're parents must be so relieved that you're back," but he decided to avoid having to go into the complicated details behind it all. They told Will how tough his leaving had been on Cormac and how much his relationship with Erin, a girl he had met through his cousins, had helped him. "Then when he lost her, he lost his whole spirit," his father said.

Will lurked in the shadows across the street from the pub for over an hour before Cormac stumbled out the door. Will wanted to see as few people as possible while he was there. He had no interest in discussing the war or his parent's well-being with former acquaintances. Will followed Cormac as he shuffled along the side of the road, stopping once to sip from the flask in his jacket pocket and light a cigarette. Hunched over in the shadows of the moonlight trying to strike the match, Cormac did look spiritless. A shell of his former confident, lively self.

He ambled along again, eventually turning down a darker road, and when they came to the most discreet length of the road, Will closed in on him.

"Cormac."

Cormac stopped and glanced around.

"Behind you," Will said.

Cormac turned and squinted at Will's dark figure. Between the whiskey and dim moonlight, it was all a mystery to him.

"It's Will."

The words and the voice took a moment to register. "Well I'll be damned," he finally said. "There was a rumor that you might have died." Cormac paused, looking down at his shoes. "Glad to see that's not the case."

"Close to it," Will said.

Cormac grunted and nodded. "I suppose you could just use your powers to heal yourself, the way you did me when we was kids."

"Suppose I could. Never had to try it, lucky for me I guess."

There was silence and Cormac sucked on his cigarette.

"I was sorry to hear about you fiancé," Will said.

"Hell of a thing, ain't it?"

"What's that?" Will said.

"Having your lady sick with cancer, and a buddy who could probably fix her, except your buddy is lost somewhere at war."

Will hadn't considered the cruel irony of it in that way. "I wish I'd have known," he said.

"Your mom wrote to you for me." He sucked on the cigarette again. "Her idea, I didn't ask her for it, but I was sure appreciative for the effort."

During his time away, Will had a frozen image in his mind of life in Clare, as though the lives of the people he loved would pause because he wasn't there, then pick up right where they had been once he returned home.

"I never got the letter," Will said, more to himself than to Cormac.

"We figured as much. Your folks presumed you were dead, or injured, or captured, and then Erin died anyway." Cormac grimaced and his breath stopped short as he fought back his emotions.

"I'm so very sorry, Mac. For everything, for all of it. You were right and I should have listened. Me going off to battle didn't do anyone any good, including myself, and a lot of people wound up damaged because of it."

Cormac took a long haul of the cigarette, then sniffed and wiped at his nose with his sleeve. He shrugged off Will's comments. "Ah well, at least you're home safe. Can't imagine the reaction from your folks when you walked through their door. Must have been over the moon, huh?" Cormac looked off into the dark abyss where the road ran off, as if something out there would answer him and could remind him of what it felt like to be so joyful about something again.

Will wanted to tell him what had happened, but not in the condition Cormac was in. Before Will could think of what to say next, Cormac turned and continued on his way.

"Glad to see you back in one piece," Cormac said. "Give my best to your folks."

"I'm caught up in a real mess," Will said.

Cormac stopped, but didn't turn around.

"I haven't a friend left in the world at the moment," Will continued. "At least not one I know I can trust."

"I'm no use to you now, Will." Cormac pulled his flask from his pocket

"I know you're sore with me for leaving and you've had a tough go at it, but I need your help."

Cormac took a swig of whiskey and turned to face Will. "I'm not sore any more. You did what you thought was right. Who knows, maybe it was. For a while I thought maybe you were mad that I turned my back on you, and that's why you didn't reply to your mom's letter, but then you stopped writing altogether and we knew something wasn't right. I thought you were dead, and then Erin passed shortly after." He laughed as though the entire thing were a bad joke. "That'll knock the wind out of you."

Cormac sipped the flask again and Will could see the moisture in his eyes glisten against the moonlight.

"I would have come if I had gotten the letter, I swear," Will said.

Cormac nodded. "I know you would have. And I wish I could help you out of whatever trouble you're in, but I'm not of much use to anyone these days as you can plainly see." Cormac spread his arms, as if surrendering himself to the notion, his entire body swaying as he did so.

"Please come by my parent's tomorrow, that's all I'm asking for. At least for now."

"I don't know if I can bear to let your parents see me in this condition. Bad enough my own parents have to bear witness to it."

"My parents won't be there."

"What'd they go on a trip?"

"Something like that."

"Well that's a little odd, ain't it?" Cormac was beginning to slur his words. "You finally come back from the war and they go on a holiday."

"It's complicated, but I promise to explain more tomorrow."

Cormac stomped out his cigarette and pulled another from his pocket as he pondered the request. "I guess that it'd be alright," he eventually said.

"Are you going to remember?" Will said.

"I'm a little tipsy, not pissed out of my mind for crying out loud."

"Fair enough," Will said.

Cormac put the unlit cigarette in his mouth and the two parted ways. Will headed back to the pub. He needed to feed and he needed it to be on someone who wouldn't recognize him. He camped out across the street from the pub again and waited for an unfamiliar and heavily intoxicated face to exit the pub. The raven, which he hadn't taken notice of until that point in the night, circled overhead and Will became paranoid for a moment, wondering if the bird had come to warn him about something. Instead, the bird glided down and perched quietly on the roof of the pub, curious, it seemed, to know what Will was up to next.

Will passed on a group of men and women who exited the tavern laughing and bumping against one another, and on a man whose name he could not recall, but whom he recognized from his time in the blacksmith's shop with his father, before a young gentlemen, just a bit younger than Will, came crashing out of the door, nearly tumbling into the street. Will had never seen him before. He was humming a tune Will didn't recognize. When the man got his footing, he stood for a few moments in front of the pub, taking in the night air as he buttoned his coat. When the man was satisfied with the amount of time he had taken to appreciate the cool air in his lungs, he gave a firm nod, as if to say to himself, "that's enough, time to move on now," and he made his way down the road in the direction opposite of where Cormac had gone. Will stalked him for about a hundred yards, then as the man was walking through the shadow of a darkened barn, Will snatched him up, cupping his hand over the man's mouth and ushering him deeper into the barn. The man didn't put up the struggle Will had anticipated. It was as though the man was curious as to what the unexpected turn of events had in store for him and had given himself over to finding out. When Will pushed him to the floor of the barn and kneeled over him, his hand still covering the man's mouth, the man was wide-eyed, but less fearful than inquisitive. It was not until Will apologized for what he was about to do and exposed his fangs that the drunk young man squirmed and tried to screech in horror.

The barn housed only a pair of goats and a sheep. A few gentle bleats came from the goats, but the commotion was minimal, and even Will's victim had stiffened and gone silent with the shock of it. Will took a good amount more blood from the man than he had from the family in Wales, but not quite as much as the prostitute in the farmhouse he had killed. He was careful not to let any drip onto the floor of scattered hay beneath them, and when he was done, he healed the man's fang wounds and carried him into an empty pen where there were larger mounds of hay for him to comfortably rest on. The man was barely conscious and would soon be fully asleep as a result of both the loss of blood and the alcohol. Will wondered if the man would chalk the whole ordeal up to an odd dream and refrain from telling anyone out of the embarrassment he would feel over having passed out and slept in a barn. He imagined the man would have quite a hangover, which the strong stench of manure would not compliment very well, but he hadn't killed him, and Will felt good about that.

Will was sleeping late the following morning when a knock came at the front door of his parent's home. "Who is it?" Will said through the door, knowing he wouldn't be able to see a dang thing out there in the daylight once he opened it.

"Cormac."

Will wasn't entirely surprised, but part of him expected Cormac to either not remember or not care to keep their agreement from the night before once he sobered up, and there was always a chance it could have been Aisling, something Will both dreaded the idea of, given the situation, and hoped for. When he opened the door, the light was too brilliant for him to see Cormac, but he tried not to let on.

"Thanks for coming, Mac," he said, then stepped out of the way to allow for Cormac to enter.

Once the door was closed, the light streaming through the small windows of the cottage created a haze across Will's vision, but his sight was very manageable. Cormac looked well, at least compared to the pale version of himself he had been the night before, and Will could see that he had made an effort to clean himself up. Cormac handed a bottle to Will. "I brought some of that Tullamore Dew I know your father likes."

Will accepted the gift. "That's very kind, thank you." He gestured toward the other room. "Let's go into the kitchen."

The natural light was dimmer in the kitchen and Will's vision was nearly perfect. He placed the bottle down on the counter and was about to offer Cormac a chair when he noticed Cormac fidgeting in the corner, rubbing and twisting his fingers between each hand.

"Would you like a glass, Mac?" Will motioned to the bottle he had just placed down.

"It's a little early, but why not?" Cormac said with an awkward laugh. "Hair of the dog."

Will fetched a mug from the cabinet and filled it halfway, then placed the mug on the table. "Have a seat," he said.

Cormac took the offer. "Not gonna join me?"

"I'm not much of drinker these days," Will said as he sat down across from Cormac.

Cormac swallowed a mouthful of the whiskey. "So what's up?" he said after.

"My parents are dead, Mac."

Cormac choked momentarily on his second sip. "That's not possible, I would have heard about it."

"Just yesterday. I found them when I arrived."

Cormac gave an inquisitive look.

"Murdered," Will said.

"Bloody hell. Have you told the Garda?"

"No."

"Well why the hell not?"

"Because I already know who did it and there's nothing they can do about it."

Another inquisitive look from Cormac.

"I have something I need to tell you, Mac. It's going to be hard to process, but I need you to stay calm and do your best to believe everything I tell you."

Cormac nodded. "Alright then."

"Something happened to me while I was in Africa." Will searched for the words to use next. "Have you heard of vampires?"

"You mean like Dracula?" Cormac said.

Will smiled, thinking back to his own response when he was first told of the creature's existence. One of the last conversations he had with his parents. "Something like that, yes."

"If you tell me you saw vampires in Africa, I might have to call the Garda myself, have you committed." Cormac's face twisted into a concerned grin.

Will opened his mouth and rubbed his tongue across his fangs.

It took Cormac a moment to understand what he was looking at, but when it registered, he jumped back in his chair and toppled over, then scrambled to his feet and backed against the wall. "Jeezus."

"Calm down, Mac. I'm telling you because I trust you. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Where the hell did you get teeth like that?"

"I know it's hard to make sense of, but I was attacked by a group of vampires in Africa and they turned me into one of them."

Cormac remained pinned to the wall, shaking.

"Don't run out," Will said. "You're the only person I've told and I need your help."

Cormac gave an agreeable nod, more out of fear than of understanding.

"Why don't you take your whiskey and sit back down."

Will got the bottle from the counter and placed it next to Cormac's mug. They both returned to their seats.

"What are you thinking?" Will said.

"I'm thinking I have been drinking too much lately. Either that or you're really ticked off about the way things ended between us when you left, and so you and your parents are playing a cruel joke."

"It's real. The fangs and their death."

"How do I know you didn't kill them and drink their blood?"

The comment stung Will, but it was a fair question and part of the reason he hadn't reported his parent's slaying to authorities.

Cormac recognized the painful reaction on Will's face. "I'm sorry, but you yourself said you're like Dracula. How do I even know you're not going to kill me and drink all my blood?"

"Because I would have done it already if that were my intention."

"Well don't you drink blood?" Cormac said.

"I do."

"And how do you do that without hurting and killing people?"

"I still have my ability to heal."

"So you half kill people, then you save their life?"

"I guess you could say it that way."

"Jeezus." Cormac looked around the room, as if there were others there with them whose opinion he wanted on the matter. "Well are you going to do that to me?" he finally said.

"No. I didn't ask you here for your blood, Mac. I do need your help in other ways though."

"Like I have a choice," Cormac said with a sarcastic snort.

"I don't want you to help me because you're afraid of me. I want you to help me because you're my friend."

Cormac tipped more whiskey into his mug, silently shaking his head.

"Go easy on that," Will said. "If you agree to help me it's going to require you driving me somewhere."

"Are you going to take me to your vampire lair or something?"

Cormac didn't mean it as a joke, but Will laughed anyway.

"I don't have a lair."

Cormac took a drink, examined his mug, then took another, and Will could see that he was processing the ordeal, so he remained silent. After a few moments, he put the mug down.

"Being friends with you has not been simple, that's for sure. Having to cover for you and your powers when we were kids, now this."

"Takes a good man to manage it, that's for sure."

Cormac exhaled, as if he were pushing out all his doubts and concerns along with the breath. "What do you need from me?" he said.

"First, I just need to know about Aisling. Is she alive?"

"Sure she is. Far as I know. Saw her around just a few weeks ago."

"Do you know if she still comes around here often?" Will said.

"Same as always. Like I said, as far as I know."

Will nodded with satisfaction and leaned back in his chair. "So she must be okay then," Will said, more to himself than to Cormac.

"Do you want me to find her and bring her here?" Cormac said.

Will considered it and eventually shook the notion off. "No, I don't think I can have two of these conversations in one day."

"I imagine she's going to come knocking sooner or later," Cormac said.

"Hopefully we'll be gone by then."

"And what will she think when she can't find your parents?"

Will wagged his head at the question. "I don't know. Maybe it's best if she just doesn't have an answer to that question for now. Not knowing might be better for her than finding out they're truly gone."

"Not sure that's ever better, Will."

Will shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe, maybe not, but it'll have to do for now."

They were both quiet as Cormac took down the last of the whiskey in his mug.

"So where we off to then?" Cormac said when he was done.

"I need you to take me to Dublin." Will took the piece of parchment from his pocket and slid it across the table to Cormac. "Be gentle with this."

"What is it?" Cormac said.

"It's a very old prophecy. At least the part written in Hebrew is, I'm not sure about the drawings."

"What does it say?"

"The curse will be broken where it was forged, and the second kingdom shall reign over the land of the rising son."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"That's what I'm hoping to find out. A friend I had back in Africa –"

"A vampire?" Cormac said.

"Yes," Will continued, "and he thought the word son refers to a child, not to the sun in the sky."

Will's thoughts turned to Evangelos briefly, and he felt partly lost without him there.

"The son's land?" Cormac said with a confused expression. "Who is the son and where is his land?"

"The land is Ireland and the rising son is me. At least that was my friend's theory."

Cormac considered the information, silently mouthing the words rising son as he did. "In the biblical sense of the rising son?" he eventually said.

Will gave a nod.

"Son as in the son of God?" Cormac said.

"It's a lot, I know."

"Your vampire friend believes you to be the second coming of Christ then?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"On what grounds?" Cormac said, then interjected before Will could give a response. "Don't get me wrong, it would explain a whole lot. Your powers, the way you were able to heal me when we were kids and all that." He rubbed his temples. "But a vampire Messiah? Holy shit." He quickly traced the sign of the cross on his body using his index and middle fingers. "Sorry for the language," he said, looking up to the ceiling.

"The vampire who did this to me, Alulim, he is very old and it wasn't a mistake that we found each other. He had been searching for me. He called me the Parousia."

Cormac twisted his face.

"The second coming."

"Jesus Christ," Cormac said, running his fingers through his hair. "Literally."

"Only not the son of God exactly," Will said. "More like a solider of God."

Cormac's eyes were blindly examining the battered surface of the table before him, as if there were a crystal bowl hovering somewhere around it that would provide answers to the dozens of questions amassing in his head. "Thank God I've got a bit of a buzz from the whiskey."

They both grunted out a laugh.

"So you were a threat to him then? And that's why he did this to you?" Cormac said.

"It would seem so."

"Why didn't he just kill you?"

"He tried. That's the one upside here. He thinks I'm dead."

"So he's a pretty nasty guy then I imagine?"

"The worst."

"And he thought if he made you a vampire you'd be nasty too? But it didn't work and so he tried to kill you instead?"

"That's the substance of it."

Cormac leaned back in his chair, pleased he had been able to make some sense of it all. "Bit more exciting than the average life here in Clare," he said.

Will bobbed his head in agreement.

"So what's in Dublin then?"

"Trinity College. The Book of Kells specifically."

"Which is going to tell us what exactly?"

"I don't know exactly, but supposedly it prophesizes the second coming actually taking place here in Ireland. My friend thought we might find some answers there."

"Answers about this?" Cormac said, tapping the parchment.

"Hopefully."

"I take it you stole this from Alulim." Cormac slid the parchment across to Will.

Will folded the parchment and placed it back in his pocket. "I found it in a hidden tomb that belongs to Alulim. It was wrapped in the body of a creature."

"A creature?"

"Almost humanlike, but not quite. It had claws for feet."

Cormac rolled his eyes. "Clawed humans. I'll believe anything at this point."

Will stood from the table. "The sooner we can leave, the better."

"Aren't you a creature of the night or something? Can't go out in the sun and all that?"

"Most vampires would be scorched, that's accurate, but I recently learned I am safe in the sun. It does affect my vision though. Can't even see a shadow."

"Hence the escort," Cormac said, waving an open hand across his torso.

"I'll get a lot more done if I can travel during the day," Will said.

"Say no more. I am at your service." Cormac stood and was about to follow Will to the front door, but stopped and grabbed the bottle of whisky from the table. "Sounds like I may need this."

# 22

Will and Cormac found their way to the colossal library in Dublin shortly before nightfall. The drive itself took them less than four hours, but neither had ever been to the city before and it took them nearly another hour to locate the campus and then the building, partly due to Cormac's lack of willingness to ask. Cormac stood looking up at the behemoth building as he maintained his grip on Will's elbow. "It's the biggest thing I've ever seen," he said. "Must be nearly eighty windows on the front of it."

Will had borrowed a pair of sunglasses from Cormac to help cut down on the intensity of the sunlight when his eyes were open. The glasses, in conjunction with the shadow the library cast over them, gave Will just enough vision to make out the hazy shape of objects. To him, the library was nothing more than a large dark mass.

"I'm sure it's a sight to behold," Will said.

Cormac shrugged off the remark. "Ah well, you'll see it when the sun goes down. Another half hour, probably less. Should we go inside?"

"Not till nightfall, I won't be able to see a thing."

"I think they'll probably be closed by then," Cormac said.

"Even better."

Cormac let go of Will's arm. A young woman was walking past, so he leaned into Will's ear. "I'm here to help, Will, but I'm not looking to do anything illegal. Last thing I need is to be locked up in the city."

"You don't have to worry about the Garda," Will said.

Cormac shushed him. "Keep your voice down. You might not be able to see the people roaming around us, but that doesn't mean they can't see you."

Will couldn't see them, but he could smell each of them. Young, powerful blood mostly; dozens of potential prey within a hundred yards tingling the edges of his tongue, including Cormac. Will knew he would need to feed in order to stay sharp.

"Just get me to a bench for now," he said. "Once I can see I'll come up with a plan."

Cormac did as he was asked. "Shouldn't have left the whiskey in the car," he said as he lowered them both onto the wooden seat.

"What's the foot traffic like?" Will said.

"A few people going in, a few people coming out. Mostly people out."

They were both quiet for a few minutes before Cormac spoke again. "Are you gonna steal it?"

"I wouldn't even know what to do with it."

"Then what's the plan?"

"We need to find someone who is familiar with the book. Someone who can speak to this supposed prophecy of a messiah in Ireland and what it all means."

"So is this something you need my help with or should I just go get the car ready for a quick getaway?"

"They'll be less intimidated if I'm with a human, less likely to panic and more cooperative."

"You flash those fangs and I promise, they'll be both panicked and cooperative."

"Hopefully intimidation won't be necessary."

Cormac turned to Will and raised an unseen eyebrow. "Believe me, it's inevitable."

Will made no response to Cormac, who stood to burn his nervous energy by pacing in front of the bench. After a couple of minutes, he stopped in front of Will.

"I'm going to take a walk to the car for a drink to kill some time and calm my nerves."

"The sun is setting, there'll be plenty of time for a drink later," Will said.

Cormac gave a frustrated sigh and returned to the bench. He surveyed the entrance to the library, trying to envision how their efforts were about to play out. As he did, a small gathering of people began exiting, some walked out alone wearing pensive faces, while others were accompanied by a partner or a small entourage, exchanging thoughtful glances, commentary, and agreeable nods.

"I think they're closing," Cormac said.

"Good."

"I realize it's not dark yet, but any thoughts on a plan of action?"

"You try going in first," Will said.

"Are you kidding?" Cormac stood again.

"Just a regular guy. Tell them you understand that they've closed, but you're hoping to speak with the curator or someone who can answer a few questions about the Book of Kells. Tell them it's for research."

"And what do I say when they tell me to bugger off?"

"Then we do it my way."

"Which is what then?"

"A little more aggressive," Will said.

Cormac began pacing again and scratching the back of his scalp. "This is madness," he said.

"What's the worst that is going to happen?"

"Well I don't know exactly. I've never plotted a felony with a vampire before, now have I?"

"We're not committing any felonies," Will said.

"Guess we'll see about that," Cormac said in a mutter.

Will remained on the bench, his blind gaze directed at the ground. His sight was still a canopy of white with dark shadows dancing behind it, but as the sun waned, he could begin to see signs of the shadows breaking through and the landscape fading in. Cormac walked over to inspect the door. "Definitely looks closed," he said as he walked back toward Will.

"Give it a go then," Will said.

"Might as well get it over with. You coming with?"

"I'll stay here, they might be more apprehensive if they see two of us."

Cormac returned to the entrance of the library about ten yards from where Will sat. In the twilight, Will could see the details of his own boots, stretched out before him, coming into view. The dark laces and the stitching around the cap toe were still hazy, but became less so with every passing moment as the light dimmed and the infrared glow that accompanies the darkness began to set in. Cormac returned in under five minutes.

"No luck. I practically begged," he said.

"I heard," Will said, not looking up from his boots.

Cormac glanced back at the entrance to the library, considering the distance.

"Plan b then," Will said.

Cormac brushed aside his amazement over Will's superhuman hearing abilities. "Plan b it is." Cormac looked to the sky. "Looks like maybe a few minutes more of dusk, perhaps enough time to dash back to the car for a quick drink?"

Will removed the sunglasses and pushed them into the pocket of his pants. "No, it's dark enough," he said, and stood from the bench.

"I need you to tell me the truth," Cormac said. "Are you gonna kill anyone?"

"I'm not going to kill anyone. The idea is to get them on our side. Now let's go."

Will strode toward the entrance and Cormac trailed him. A middle-aged man with a gentle but matter of fact look about him came to the door moments after Will gave it a knock. The man skimmed both their faces.

Cormac, who stood behind Will's right shoulder, gave him a nod. "Back again," Cormac said.

The man crooked his neck and attempted to shut the door. "Sorry, gentlemen."

Will placed his foot in the doorframe and pushed the door back open gradually, but with ease. Will could see that the man was about to raise his voice, likely to call for assistance, so he pressed his palm against the man's mouth and ushered him into a corner of the library deep within the narrow walls created by the shelves of bound antique literature. Cormac stepped into the foyer of the awesome structure, glancing around to ensure that no one else had seen them, and taking in the vastness of the vaulted ceiling and the two exaggerated stories filled with bays of old books that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The number of books housed within the library was inconceivable, but he speculated that it must be in the tens of thousands. He shut the door quietly and located Will. The light was faint and Cormac could barely see their faces.

"I'm going to remove my hand now if you promise to be silent and hear me out," Will said to the man.

The man nodded as best he could with the grip Will had on him, so Will did as he had promised.

"I need your help, or the help of someone here who is familiar enough with the Book of Kells to explain its lore," Will said.

The man was gasping for air and gripping the buttons of the sweater covering his chest. "Who are you?" he said in a raspy voice.

Will glanced back at Cormac briefly before responding. "That's exactly what I hope to find out."

"I'll let you kill me before I allow you to steal that book," the man said.

"I don't want the book, just the answers that I believe it can provide me."

"Guar –"

Will covered the man's mouth again. The faster the man's heart raced the stronger the smell of the blood it was forcing through his veins seemed to become, heightening Will's desire to feed.

"Do you know the book well?" Will said.

The man stared at him, wide-eyed, but gave no indication.

"There is legend," Will said, "that the book foretells of the second coming of Christ taking place right here in Ireland."

The man's brow furrowed.

"You know of it," Will said.

The man attempted to shake his head rapidly in denial, but the grip Will retained on him caused it to appear more like a tremor.

The smell of the man's blood was irresistible, causing Will to clench his teeth and curl his lips. His left fang was prominent in the dim light and the man began moaning out attempted screams and squirming in Will's arms when he caught sight of it.

"I apologize for what I am about to do, but when I am done, it will have answered a lot of questions for you, and I can better explain why I am here, Will said."

Will pushed the man's face back and stabbed his fangs into the part of his neck just beside the protruding Adam's apple.

"Sweet jeezus," Cormac said in a quiet voice and lowered himself to one knee, clasping his hands together and resting his forehead on them.

The man quickly fell limp in Will's arms, giving himself over to Will and praying for his own life. The blood squirted down the back of Will's throat and it was difficult for him to pull himself away, nearly as difficult as it had been with the prostitute at the farmhouse in Wales, but he did, swiftly lying the man down on the floor and pressing his hand to the wound.

"Now I shall heal you," he said to the man in a whisper.

The man was alert, but his body was as lifeless as a wounded animal that has accepted its fate and crawled into a corner to die. Cormac looked up from his prayer to bear witness to the miracle he hadn't seen performed since he was much younger, and the thought crept back into his mind, "If only he had been here for Erin."

Will whispered the prayer he had used on every wound since the day he healed Cormac. The brilliant light glowed beneath his hand and against the man's neck. The man closed his eyes and a tear streamed down his temple. When he was done, Will remained crouched over the man.

"You'll be a bit weak for a spell, but I've taken the blood I needed and healed the wound."

The man warily lifted his fingers to the spot on his neck where the fangs had pierced him. There was no pain and no evidence his flesh had been opened. "I don't understand," he said.

"I need to speak with the person in this building who is most familiar with the Book of Kells," Will said. "Are you that person?"

The man gave a nod, the back of his head chafing against the floor beneath him.

"Will you take me to it?"

"Yes," the man said.

# 23

The man's name was Walter. He was the curator and had spent much of his adult life studying the Book of Kells. He spent nearly an hour walking Will and Cormac through the book, stopping on the key pages containing the images that some had interpreted to mean that the next Messiah would be born a in Ireland, and explaining why the artistry, themed in gold and complimented by vivid colors such as deep reds and garden greens had led people to draw this conclusion. One in particular showed a woman who was assumed to be the Virgin Mary holding the infant Jesus, however, some had come to believe that the picture was actually meant to be of a more modern Virgin; a Celtic woman holding the second Immaculate Conception.

The illustrations were unlike anything Will or Cormac had seen before and they asked many questions about things Will hadn't planned to care about, like how long it took to create the book, and how the monks that had developed such a beautiful masterpiece had acquired the skills to do so, and what types of materials they had used. Walter answered the best he was able, some of his answers based on decades of speculation resulting from the inability to scientifically prove certain things, such as the exact year it was completed and the reason behind the monks' motivation to complete it.

"Perhaps it was simply to create something beautiful," Will had said.

"Perhaps," Walter had answered, "but there is much evidence to suggest that the beauty of it was intended to distract from the messages hidden within."

Walter had equally as many questions for Will, specifically, the details surrounding his birth and wanting to understand why it hadn't been as celebrated as the birth of the first Messiah. He also wanted to know when Will had discovered his ability to heal and why his family had kept the gift hidden, all of which led to Will providing Walter the details of his family's experience with vampires and his own encounter with them, many of the specifics being news to Cormac as well. Walter became teary eyed several times throughout Will's story, and when Will asked for Walter's promise of discretion, Walter dropped to a knee and said, "Whatever you require of me, I shall do, my savior. Your secrets are safe with me for as long as you need them to be."

The library had grown completely silent – all the other staffers had left for the night and the guard on duty was patrolling other areas of the library - when Will produced the parchment from his pocket and handed it to Walter.

"Do you know anyone who might be able to give me some answers as to what this might be?" Will said to him.

Walter examined it and before he could ask, Will added, "It says, the curse will be broken where it was forged, and the second kingdom shall reign over the land of the rising son."

"Son as in child," Cormac interjected, "not as in hot ball of fire in the sky."

"I had a friend," Will said, "who thought that if the Book of Kells is the one book that accurately prophesized the birth of the next Messiah taking place in Ireland, then it may also hold additional secrets about what the prophecy on this paper could mean."

Walter rubbed the inside corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "This is all too much," he said.

"But it's real," Will said, "and the only silver lining I can find in my being fated to an existence as a vampire is that it led me to this." He tapped the parchment, which Walter had rested on the Book of Kells. "And given the lengths Alulim went to in order to conceal this document, it can't be anything good for humanity."

"Well it's too much too continue discussing without a real drink," Walter said.

"Hear, hear," Cormac said, quickly adding, "thank Heavens."

The three of them relocated to Walter's office where he took a bottle whiskey and poured some of it between two mugs, nearly filling them to the brim. He handed one to Cormac who immediately swallowed a mouthful.

"Best drink of my life," Cormac said, tapping his mug against Walter's. "Cheers."

"Is there something you're not telling us, Walter?" Will said.

Walter gestured to the other chairs in his office as he lowered himself into his desk chair, and they all sat.

"I was hesitant to mention it because it's nothing I can prove and I don't want to lead you on a wild goose chase, but it's the only information I have that might be of help to you." He took a drink before continuing. "It is my belief that the book housed here in the library is not the original Book of Kells, and if that's true, it is a secret that is so well guarded that not only am I not supposed to know about it, but I believe the heads of England and Ireland don't even have a clue."

"What are you basing this on?" Will said.

"Sometime at the start of the eleventh century, the book was taken."

"Stolen?" Cormac said.

"That is how it is documented."

"But you don't believe that," Will said.

"I do not. The book was returned with pages missing from it, along with some wording changed. At least that is the rumor that has trickled down through the centuries since."

"What wording exactly?" Will said.

"Specifically, the word gladium, which means sword. Supposedly it was replaced by the word gaudium, which means joy and has a similar spelling."

"What's the significance of that?" Will said.

"Well, there is text in the book that references the Messiah saying, I came not only to bring peace, but joy. If the legend is true, it originally read, I came not only to bring peace, but a sword."

Will tried to make sense of it on his own before replying. "What would the purpose of that be then?" he said.

Walter swallowed the mouthful of whiskey he had just taken in. "I don't know exactly." He coughed. "But the reason must be of great significance for someone to go through all the trouble just to remove a few pages and change a word."

"Something to hide," Cormac said.

The three of them nodded in unison.

"And you believe the original book is still intact and safely hidden away somewhere, Walter?" Will said.

"It has been my belief for more than a decade now."

"It's quite a conspiracy theory," Cormac said.

Walter bent his neck and shrugged. "Stranger things have happened," he said, motioning to Will.

Will stood and paced the small space of floor between his chair and Walter's. "All this would mean that there is a person, or a group of people who know where the original book is, and probably know the reason behind all this."

"It's likely," Walter said.

"But you have no links to anyone with any additional information?"

Walter studied his empty mug, rocking it in his hands. "There is someone. The Archbishop of Armagh. It's been years since I corresponded with him, and all he was ever able to provide me was his own affirmation that the book had in fact been stolen at the turn of the eleventh century, and that pages had gone missing, but he claimed to have no reason to believe that the book held here at Trinity is a duplicate, or that any wording in it had ever been modified."

"You don't believe him?" Will said.

Walter was reaching over at Cormac refilling his mug. "His last letter to me was borderline threatening and I received a formal warning from the college to stop harassing him."

"It was that bad?" Cormac said.

"I sent my initial letter on a whim, a shot in the dark, and didn't go into great detail, just some information about me and my position, and an inquiry as to who might be best suited to answer questions I had regarding the true history of the book." Walter took a drink. "The reply was kind enough and stressed the fact that the book kept here at Trinity is the original, and thanked me for my dedication to caring for such a treasured piece of the church."

"He tried to nip that discussion in the bud, huh?" Cormac said.

"I was too naïve to realize that at the time though, so my next letter went into detail about why I had come to the conclusion I had, mainly focusing on the type of ink that seems to have been used and the fact that only specific pages were taken, because if the intent in stealing the book was to destroy it, then why not destroy it? Why only destroy a select few pages? Plenty of ancient artifacts have been permanently lost to warmongers and pillagers, why not this one?"

"How was that received by him?" Will said.

"He politely told me not to waste my time chasing after the wild imagination and conspiracies of others, but I persisted and eventually a final letter came saying that the Archbishop had no further knowledge or opinions on the matter. A separate letter was also sent to the college questioning my competency for this position, given my lack of ability to recognize the legitimacy of the work, and noting my irrational behavior and harassment of the Primate." Walter washed his words down with another drink.

"Do you think there are others who share your suspicions?" Will said.

"Over the years I'm sure, otherwise the legend would not have sustained, but I think by this point, most just brush it off as mythology."

Will returned to his chair and took the piece of parchment from his pocket to examine it again. "This is all great information, Walter, but it only created more questions," he said.

"A vile old vampire hiding ancient text on the one hand," Walter said, pointing to the parchment, "and the church concealing their own ancient documents on the other."

"We're going to see the Archbishop next, aren't we?" Cormac said to Will.

"Sounds like our best option."

"Thought so." Cormac took back the remaining whiskey in his mug.

"Just don't expect the same level of cooperation you got from me," Walter said, reaching for the empty mug Cormac was offering him.

Will stood and the other two followed. He stretched his hand to Walter.

"Thank you."

"If there is anything else I can do, please don't hesitate," Walter said.

Cormac shook Walter's hand, then followed Will out.

# 24

The drive to St. Patrick's Cathedral in Armagh was about two hours north of Dublin and Will and Cormac arrived a couple of hours before midnight. They left the car parked on the road and walked the concrete steps up the hill to the cathedral. The large structure was cloaked in darkness and Cormac could not see the peaks of the twin spires in the dark night sky. Cormac gave the right side of the antique wooden door a tug and it pulled open.

"Do you think there's anyone inside at this hour?" he said.

"Only one way to find out," Will said.

Cormac pulled the door open enough for Will to pass through it. Will entered and within a few steps was crippled by a sharp pain in his abdomen. He fell to his knees, clenching his stomach and retching. Cormac darted in after him and crouched beside him. Will began vomiting blood in large, dark, coagulated piles onto the floor before him.

"What's happening?" Cormac said.

Will could not answer. He stretched his hands out before him for support as his back arched and his inside heaved uncontrollably. Cormac looked around the dark church for any sign of help. The moonlight illuminated the stained glass of the arched windows running along the sides of the walls and behind the altar before them. The space was massive, but there looked to be no one else in the cathedral but them. It was the largest House of God Cormac had ever been in, and as he examined the size of the altar in awe through the sea of pews, the idea registered with him - House of God. He took hold of Will's arm and attempted to pull him to his feet. "We have to get you out of here. It's a blessed house."

Will tried to cooperate, but before he could be lifted from the floor, the sound of gentle footsteps echoed from somewhere and a figure appeared from the right side of the altar.

"Hello? Can you help us?" Cormac said, letting Will return to his hands and knees.

Will gurgled as he tried to fight back the blood being forced out of him. The figure stared for another moment, then removed something from his pocket. His arm began swinging up and down rapidly as the bell he had produced clanged and dinged. The man began shouting loudly. It was a word, a word Cormac had never heard before and it took him a moment to comprehend it.

"Nephilim," the figure said, over and over, but not in a panicked tone; it was deep and even, and like the skipping of an album, it was the same each time. "Nephilim. Nephilim. Nephilim."

Cormac took hold of Will's arm again and made another effort to hoist him to his feet. "Not good. We need to get out of here,"

Just as Cormac was able to hang Will's arm across his shoulders, the door they had entered through opened and three men came through it. Cormac turned to get a better view of them. They wore uniforms of some sort - very military like and nearly all black, including the tall boots that reached to the bottoms of their kneecaps, the only exception being the white vests they wore, and on each of the vests was a patch of a red cross, but instead of one horizontal line like a typical cross would have, there were two. On each of their right hips was a pistol holster, and on the other was a long sword.

"Please, my friend here needs help," Cormac said. "I just need to get him outside."

The man standing before the altar had stopped ringing the bell. He raised a pointed finger at Will. "Spawn of Nephilim," he said.

Cormac caught a brief moment of disbelief on the face of one of the soldiers before one of the others hit him across the jaw. Cormac lost hold of Will and they both fell to the floor. When Cormac looked up, a little dazed from the impact, the third soldier had his sword withdrawn and was lifting it over Will's head. Will was flat on his stomach, still convulsing, completely helpless and unaware. Before Cormac could react, the man at the altar spoke again.

"No," he said, "take him down below."

Two of the soldiers took Will by his arms and dragged him up the aisle.

"He's not what you think he is," Cormac said. "Whatever it is you think he is, he's not, I promise."

The third soldier pointed the tip of his sword at Cormac. "Shut up and go."

Cormac climbed to his feet and followed Will, toying with his tender jaw as he did so.

The soldiers brought them into the vestry and through a small door, which led down a dark stairwell and into a basement. The man from the altar pushed a button light switch and two bulbs hanging from the ceiling flickered to life. The man was wearing a red cassock and a crucifix hung from his neck. He was a clergyman of advanced age. The basement looked to be for nothing more than general storage, but they quickly passed through it and the clergyman pulled a ring of keys from the pocket of his robe and unlocked a small door built into the stone wall. Before they entered through it, the old man took hold of a candle on a nearby table and lit it using a matchstick sitting next to it. He entered the room first and when the rest followed, Cormac nearly became ill as the clergyman went around and lit the six wall sconces, revealing the setting of a medieval torture and death chamber. In the middle of the room was a quartering table, and in the corner was a guillotine.

"Place Satan's beast in here," the clergyman said, tapping the ring of keys against the guillotine.

The soldiers did as instructed. Will's retching had begun to slow, but he was weakened by the loss of blood.

"You don't want to kill him," Cormac said. "You have to trust me."

"Get this other one on the table," the clergyman said, motioning to Cormac.

Will's head and arms were locked in, and one of the soldiers stayed with him to fasten his hands behind his back with an old pair of rusted handcuffs, while the other went to assist the third soldier with strapping Cormac onto the table.

"Please," Cormac said, "we'll tell you anything you want to know. We have no secrets, we're just seeking answers."

The clergyman approached Cormac, who had not put up a fight as they strapped him in due to the pistol one of the soldiers had placed on the table beside him as a warning. The clergyman held Cormac's face with his cold, wrinkled hand and twisted it from side to side, examining his neck. "Why are you with this creature?" the clergyman said, removing his grip.

"He's my friend," Cormac said.

The clergyman sighed and hung his head with a shake. "Such a shame. A lost soul, led astray by the work of the Satan."

"Give him a chance to explain who he is and why he's here," Cormac said.

One of the soldiers stood beside the guillotine, his sword drawn, prepared to slice the rope suspending the blade above Will's neck upon command. Whatever had happened to Will in the church above had passed, but the episode had taken a physical toll on him.

"What did you call me?" Will said to the clergyman, who was dragging a small stool from the corner of the room.

The old clergyman sat so that he and Will would be closer to eye level.

"You called me something before you dragged us down here," Will said, "what was it?

The clergyman looked at Will as if he had just sniffed something putrid. "You know what you are, now tell me what you are here for."

"I am not what you think I am, but it might help me to explain myself if you would tell me what that is."

"The elderly man leaned in close to Will. "I killed one of your kind a very long time ago in a chamber much like this. To slice the head off the spawn of Nephilim was my proudest moment as a steward of the church, and if you don't want to cooperate, I'll behead you too."

"Nephilim," Will said. "That's the word. Please tell me what it means."

The clergyman exhaled an impatient breath.

"Walter sent us," Cormac said, the words echoing off the musty walls of the room.

The clergyman stood with a groan and shuffled over to Cormac. He placed his hand on Cormac's outstretched arm. "Good," he said, "Now tell me who Walter is."

"He corresponded with the Archbishop years ago regarding the Book of Kells. He is the curator for the library at Trinity College."

The clergyman thought to himself for a moment and a subtle smile formed around his mouth. "I'd assumed they would have relieved that man of his duties by now." He turned back to Will. "Now what business have you with the Book of Kells?"

"In my pocket, there is a paper, an old piece of parchment," Will said.

The clergyman motioned to the guard standing beside the guillotine. The man felt Will's pants for it, eventually retrieving it from the right pocket and handing it to the clergyman who walked closer to the nearest sconce and examined it.

"It says –" Will began.

"I can read what it says," the clergyman said, sharply interrupting. He folded the parchment into a small square with no regard for the damage he was causing to the dried, crackling relic.

"Please be delicate with it," Will said.

The clergyman lifted the parchment to the candle and set it ablaze.

"No," Will said.

The clergyman dropped the pile of flames to the floor and within seconds it was nothing more than a pile of smoldering black ash.

"That was a prophecy belonging to a very dangerous creature," Will said. "I don't know what all of it meant, but it was my best chance at stopping whatever it predicted."

The clergyman rubbed out the smoking remains with the sole of his shoe, creating streaks of black across the floor that looked as if a young child had colored the area with a piece of coal.

"It wasn't a prophecy, it was instructions," he said, "and your master should have prepared you better for this mission he has sent you on."

"The only master I serve is the same God as you," Will said.

"Well if that's true, then you will plead your case to him when you meet him." The clergyman nodded at the soldier standing beside the guillotine. "Execute him."

"Wait," Cormac said, making a futile effort to yank free of his straps.

The solider raised his sword.

"I am the Parousia," Will said in a voice so loud it caused the soldier to jump back a step, "and I have come in search of a way to defeat the vampire Alulim and to fulfill my destiny as the Messiah."

The clergyman raised his hand, halting the solider from dropping his sword on the rope. The old man absorbed Will's words. He returned to the stool and examined Will's drawn face, as if he would recognize the traits of a Messiah somewhere on there.

"It's true," Cormac said, "I have witnessed his divine powers."

The clergyman brushed aside Cormac's input with a wave of his hand. "You should be executed just for this blasphemy alone," he said to Will and again gave an agitated sign, "but I am curious to know who the vampire Alulim is."

"If I tell you everything, do you swear before God that you will release us?"

The clergyman curled his old mouth as he weighed the proposition. "I cannot promise to release a Nephilim who I believe has come here to do the church harm, but I swear to remain open minded, and if what you say gives me confidence that your intentions are not malice, then I will not kill you."

Will lifted his head to check on Cormac, but could only see part of his profile from the angle he was confined to. "Let my friend go and I will tell you whatever you want," Will said.

The clergyman turned back to face Cormac.

"He's of no threat," Will said. "He's a childhood friend with a drinking problem who simply offered to give me a ride here."

"Very flattering words," Cormac said.

"How can I be sure he won't just seek help for you?" the clergyman said, returning his gaze to Will.

"Sir, I haven't a friend in the world who could or would want to help me, as you'll soon learn when I tell you the story that led me here to Armagh."

Will watched the clergyman contemplate the offer, the scowl returning to his crumpled face, and Will took note of how the man's eyes reminded him of Alulim's – seemingly void of kindness.

Finally the clergyman nodded. "Do not make me regret this," he said, then motioned to the soldiers to free Cormac.

Cormac sat up on the table once his limbs were freed from the straps and gave Will a grave look of concern. Will nodded to the door, urging him to get out while he could. Cormac begrudgingly complied, pausing at the door momentarily to consider whether there was a better option, one that would guarantee Will's safety as well. Realizing that there was not, not in a room occupied by three men carrying swords and pistols, he turned back to the clergyman.

"It would be a great tragedy for all of us if you were to kill this man, please believe me on that," he said, then walked out.

When Cormac stepped outside of the church, he became ill. He ran to the large statue of St. Patrick that stood atop the landing of the stairs, overlooking the dimly lit street at the bottom of the hill. Cormac supported himself against the base of the statue and began heaving, though almost nothing came up. When his nerves settled and the nausea subsided, he leaned his back against the concrete base of the statue and slid to the ground, where he remained for several minutes catching his breath and gathering his thoughts. He had no one he could contact to help, yet the thought of simply getting into the car and driving home agonized him. He looked upward, ready to say a prayer to the God he had spent months cursing and damning, when he spotted a bird swooping down toward him. Cormac flinched, rushing to shield his face with his forearm, but the bird changed course just before diving into him and it landed on the head of St. Patrick with a piercing caw.

Cormac cautiously climbed to his feet and took a few steps back from the statue as he examined the bird. It was a raven, or at least that was his best guess. The bird stared back at him and squawked a few more times as though he were trying to communicate something to Cormac.

Cormac waved his hand at the bird. "Get the hell out of here."

Caw.

"Piss off." Cormac headed for the stairs.

The bird took flight and fluttered past Cormac's line of sight, causing him to jump back again.

Caw. The bird flew toward the side of the cathedral, then hovered where it could still be seen by Cormac. Caw.

Cormac was about to cuss at the bird again, but caught himself. He looked to the sky again. "Is this the sign, Lord? Am I supposed to follow this bird?"

Caw.

Cormac watched the path of the bird until it went out of sight. "It's not like I have any other options," he said, and followed.

Cormac walked the log path that ran the length of the seventy-yard building, with the bird circling back every few yards to check on him, urging him along just a little further, just a little further.

"I don't know where you're taking me, but I might need a drink to deal with all of this," Cormac said.

The bird swooped back and began circling above Cormac's head.

Cormac stopped. "Is this it then?" he said, looking around.

It was even darker toward the back of the cathedral than it had been at the front. The trees lining the side of the building shielded some of the moonlight and Cormac could barely make out the shape of the dark bird against the night sky. The bird turned upward and sped deeper into the night.

"Where the hell are you going now?" Cormac said.

The bird abruptly changed course and soared like an arrow back toward the cathedral. Before Cormac could make sense of what was happening, it collided head-first with the wall of the building and dropped on impact, hitting the walkway about five yards from where Cormac stood with a lifeless thud.

Cormac took a step toward the carcass. "What –"

Before Cormac could finish his thought, light seemed to develop beneath the feathers of the bird and within a moment, an orb of blinding light consumed it. Cormac had to squint and squeeze his eyes shut it was so bright. When the light softened and Cormac was able to let his eyes adjust to it, a being stood before him.

"Do not be afraid, I am here to help," it said.

Its mouth was undersized and didn't move as it spoke, but Cormac heard its voice as clear as if it had been any human he had ever met standing there speaking to him. It's physique was petite - the arms, legs, and torso unusually thin compared to that of a human - and this exaggerated the size of its head, which was hairless and shaped like an upside down egg. The eyes were a similar shape, large and pitch-black. The gentle light it emitted silhouetted its entire figure and was the only reason Cormac was able to make out any of the detail on the dark creature.

"What are you?" Cormac's voice and body trembled.

"I have many names and live in many forms. I serve the same God as you, and I serve the Parousia just as you do."

"Will."

The being nodded.

"Well let's go then," Cormac said, "I don't know how much time we have."

"It's not that simple."

"It's very simple. Will is right inside that church. Just go in and tell them to release Will. They'll piss themselves and run away. Sounds very simple to me."

"There are rules, rules that are too complicated for this discussion, but ones that you will learn and understand soon enough."

Cormac continued to tremble, but more with anger than fear. "And did these rules prevent you from saving him from the vampire who turned him into what he is?"

"I did what I was able, just as I have since the day he was delivered here."

Cormac was becoming lightheaded due to his rapid breathing. He staggered to the wall of the cathedral and leaned his backside against it, supporting his upper body by placing his hands on his knees.

"I'm praying for the moment I wake up in my bed with an excruciating hangover." He took a few deep breaths and exhaled them slowly. "One question," he said when his heart rate had slowed. "The old vampire who did this to Will, Aluminum or something, where did he come from? If he is the oldest vampire, then who made him if it wasn't God?"

"A long explanation that we don't have time for, but you will find out soon enough."

"One of them has to die though, him or Will, is that right?"

"It is very likely." The being had not moved other than to nod its head the one time.

"Then why not just kill the vampire? Why can't God just kill all the vampires?" Cormac's heart raced again. "Humans die, he kills humans all the time."

"They are dead, Cormac, reborn as something not within the kingdom of our Lord."

Cormac took a minute to absorb the explanation. Finally he nodded. "Something that actually makes sense to me," he said. "First time in the past twenty-four hours."

"You are asking fair questions," the being said, "but understand that some of the answers you seek are found in a time so long ago that we don't have time to revisit them now."

Cormac nodded. "Fair enough then. Tell me how to save my friend and then tell me what Alulim is so that I can help Will stop him."

"Once you have saved Will you will have made extraordinary contributions to his journey, but your time here will be done, Cormac."

"What? You expect me to just go back home and act as though none of this is happening?"

"No. Your time here in this existence will be done."

Cormac stood upright. "You're going to kill me?" he said.

"You will pass on, as it needs to be."

"Needs to be?" Cormac's voice was raised.

"I have exposed myself to you, and for good purpose, but as I told you, there are rules to this."

"So I save Will and then I drop dead? That's it? Just like that?"

The being gave a nod.

Cormac paced the walkway. "I want answers. You at least owe me that. What are these rules?"

"In time."

"And for now I just trust you?"

"You must."

Cormac continued pacing, searching his mind for alternatives – a counter solution, a compromise – but just as moments before when he had tried to find one for the clergyman that might save Will, he came up empty and had to accept the situation he had fallen into. He stopped and walked within a few yards of the being.

"I'm scared," he said.

"You will be rewarded for your sacrifice."

"Will I see Erin? Will she be there?"

"You will see many things."

Cormac's eyes had welled up and tears streamed from each eye into the crevice of his nostrils. "How do I save Will?"

"You must go back inside and you must tell the bishop who has detained your friend that you seek the pages of Enoch. When he asks who sent you, you will tell him a messenger of the Ineffable Name, and you must be sure no one else hears this."

"He has three armed soldiers," Cormac said.

"You must find a way."

"And then what? What do we do if he releases Will?"

"He will tell you as much as he knows."

Cormac massaged the inside corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he went over the information in his head and pondered other questions he needed to ask.

"These pages, the Enoch ones, are these what Aluminum is after as well?"

"Alulim seeks the same answers."

"And those answers will ultimately lead to what?" Cormac said.

The being shook its head. "Soon enough."

Cormac raised his arms in surrender, "So I get this information and get Will freed, and then I die. Just like that?"

"So it must be."

Cormac dropped his hands to his side. "No time to run back to the car for a drink I imagine?"

"Be not afraid, Cormac," the being said. "You have done well."

Cormac puffed his chest out and released his breath. "Well here I go then," he said, then turned back toward the front of the cathedral, walking like a determined soldier headed into what he knew would be his final battle.

# 25

Will summarized his entire history for the clergyman, going back as far as to when his parents had to flee their home shortly after his birth. He explained the discovery of his abilities with Cormac – the man they had strapped to the table – and the dreams he once had that led him to the war. He told the clergyman of his own first encounter with vampires and how Alulim had turned him and tried to steer him down a darker path. Will spoke of his struggles with needing to feed and talked about how he found the parchment the clergyman had burned, and about his friend Evangelos, the good vampire, and how the events had led him to Trinity in search of the Book of Kells, hoping for answers on whether he was in fact the prophesized second coming, and what the information on the parchment meant. Will spared nothing except the details of his relationship with Satiah.

The three soldiers had remained in the room leaning against the quartering table, listening silently throughout Will's story and the questions from their clergyman that accompanied it. Will ended it all by suggesting that one of the soldiers wound the leg of another so that he could heal it.

"He just wants the blood, don't trust him, sir," one the soldiers said.

The clergyman rose from his stool, pausing midway to place a hand on his lower back as he grunted. One of the soldiers stepped forward to assist, but his assistance was refused. The clergyman straightened his back with a thrust and another, louder grunt. "One thing I envy about you Nephilim," he said to Will, "your resistance to age."

"It comes at price," Will said.

The clergyman walked the floor of the room, twisting his torso side to side as he did.

"Your tale is an interesting one," he said, "and I'm not unconvinced there's some truth in it all, but I'm also not convinced that our Lord and Savior would allow our next Messiah to be compromised in such a way."

"And what of the first Messiah?" Will said. "Of allowing him to be tortured and crucified. Why allow for that, yet prevent me from being put to death by vampires and then resurrected as one of them?"

The clergyman walked back to Will with determined eyes. He raised his right hand and backhanded Will's face with it.

"How dare you compare such events," he said. "The crucifixion was a test of mankind. One we failed, and when we are blessed with the return of the Messiah, we will know better. God cares not about testing the goodness of the Nephilim, for he knows their wickedness."

"And was I deserving of my fate then?"

"I cannot speak to how you conducted yourself as a young man, but perhaps you were. What I do know is that the Messiah would not be given over to such a fate."

"Whatever I am, the Messiah or not, I am not one of them. Nephilim or vampire or whatever you chose to call them."

The clergyman lifted Will's top lip and displayed his fangs to the soldiers.

Will twisted his head, pulling his lip from between the clergyman's fingers. "I know what I look like to you, but the story I just told you is true, every detail of it."

"Whatever you were or thought you were before, this is what you are now." The clergyman said. "You died and did not ascend to the Kingdom of Heaven. You prowl the night and feast on the blood of humans, God's people. There is no scale for evil. A creature of the devil is a creature of the devil, be it you or this Alulim you spoke of, and it is the duty of the Templar to flush you out."

A firm knock came at the door. Two of the soldiers reached for their pistols, one of them stepping over to shield the clergyman, while the third cautiously opened the door.

"It's just me," Cormac said, pushing his way inside the room in an attempt to see if Will had been harmed. "Oh thank God," he said upon seeing that he had not been.

The two guards standing away from the door aimed their pistols at him.

Cormac raised his arms. "I am not armed. I have come with more information for the bishop."

The clergyman stood from his stool and guided the soldier standing between him and Cormac out of this way. "Take him out of here," he said, pointing at Cormac.

The soldier by the door took hold of Cormac's collar and drove him back out of the room. The clergyman followed them out. They stood just outside the door of the torture chamber.

"Let him go," the clergyman said to the soldier who still had Cormac in his grasp. The clergyman turned his attention to Cormac. "What are you up to?"

"I must speak to you in private," Cormac said, glancing momentarily at the soldier standing next to them.

"Never," the soldier said.

"I have information that I have been instructed to share only with you," Cormac said to the clergyman.

"Do not listen to him, your grace," the solder said.

"You have my friend's head in there on a chopping block," Cormac said. "I'm not going to try anything stupid."

The clergyman nodded. "Go back inside and shut the door," he said to the soldier.

"Your grace," the soldier said.

"Leave us."

The soldier directed a threatening look at Cormac, then did as instructed. After shutting the door, the soldier pressed his ear to it. He could hear nothing but faint whispers and none of the words were audible. Will, on the other hand, could hear them nearly as well as if they had been openly talking within the room.

"A messenger of the Ineffable Name has sent me," Cormac said.

The clergyman paused and Will could hear a gentle gasp.

"Who is this messenger?" the clergyman said.

"I cannot say, and I think you should know that."

"What has he sent you for?"

"It is what he has sent my friend in there to retrieve, I am merely his escort," Cormac said.

"And what is that?" the clergyman said.

"He seeks the pages of Enoch."

"It is true then," the clergyman said.

Will could not make sense of the conversation. Every comment Cormac made created more questions for Will – had Cormac actually been contacted by a messenger, and if so, who was the Ineffable Name he spoke of, and what was Enoch? The clergyman was responsive to it though, so there must have been validity to it.

"Release the prisoner," the clergyman's voice bellowed from the other side of the door.

The three soldiers looked at each other in a state of confusion.

"Release him immediately," the clergyman said.

All three rushed to the guillotine to free Will, as though they had been instructed directly by God to do so.

"Iona," Will heard the clergyman tell Cormac, "you will need to go to Sìthean Mòr on Iona. It is a hill on the island also known as the hill of the angels."

"What is there?" Cormac said. "Who or what will he find there?"

"Legend is that the secrets buried within the hill are guarded by the Aos Sí, ancient creatures with traits not entirely dissimilar to the Nephilim," the clergyman paused, "vampires that is."

"And what must Will tell these Aos Sí when he finds them?"

"I do not know. I know of no one who has seen the Aos Sí, but that is the legend that has been handed down through the Templar for more than a thousand years."

"So does he just go to this hill and wait there? Does he call for them?" Will could hear the frustration in Cormac's words.

"I have told you all I am able," the clergyman said, with an equally frustrated tone.

"Must he ask for someone on the island then? Someone who knows more than you perhaps?" Cormac said.

"I have told you all I can," the clergyman said, his voice elevated slightly.

As Will removed his head from the unfastened guillotine, he heard a grunt of pain from the other side of the door, as though someone had been wounded. He rushed past the soldiers and opened the door to find Cormac collapsed to his knees, his fists clenched against his chest and his face twisted in pain.

Cormac looked up at Will. "Find the pages of Enoch," he said through a constricted airway, then tumbled over as the life went out of him.

Will rushed to his side, rolled Cormac's body over and placed his hands on his chest and forehead. He recited the same prayer that had saved Cormac's eye and potentially his life when they were kids. His hands radiated their light into Cormac and the clergyman and all three soldiers clasped their hands together and dropped to their knees.

"It is true," the clergyman said, "he is the Parousia. Please forgive us, my savior."

Will was focused on his friend, the last remaining friend he had in the world, and ignored the plea from the clergyman. After the first prayer, there was no movement from Cormac, so Will tried again, but his efforts were unsuccessful, and he knew that Cormac was too far gone to be saved. In a passing thought, one that Will immediately pushed from his mind, he wondered whether the vampire traits of him could save Cormac since the divine could not – was it too late to awaken his oldest and only friend by turning him into a vampire – but Will knew the consequences of that. He had to accept that Cormac had been taken from him as well, and the reality of that infuriated him. Will looked to the clergyman who knelt in prayer before him, his eyes blackened and his fangs exposed.

"What did you do to him?"

The accusation caught the clergyman off guard. He struggled to find the words to exonerate himself. When he tried, it was babble. "I did – he just – I don't know – ."

Before the clergyman could gather his thoughts and form a coherent sentence, Will leapt at one of the soldiers, snapped his neck, and pulled the soldier's sword from its scabbard. Before the other two soldiers could react and reach for their own weapons, Will swung the sword at the kneeling clergyman and lopped off his head. As the other two soldiers scrambled to their feet, Will implanted the sword through the throat of one, then took hold of the other and sank his fangs deep into his neck, more violently than he had ever before. He was feeding without any shame for the act or guilt for the victim. He drank until the blood stopped pouring and when he was done, he found the other soldier lying near the stairs, clasping the sword protruding from just under his Adam's apple and gurgling for air. Will ripped the blade out and dug his mouth into the open wound and emptied that soldier of blood as well.

When Will was done, he felt the best he had since being turned. It was the most blood he had consumed at one time and it made him realize how malnourished the small drinks of blood he was stealing from people had left him. He looked back at Cormac. He didn't want to abandon his body there and leave so much uncertainly with his poor family once the body was found, but he knew he couldn't carry him out of the church. He'd be lucky if he was able to make it out himself, given what had happened when he had first entered it.

Will piled all the bodies, Cormac's included, along with the head of the clergyman, onto the quartering table in the torture chamber and held the flame of one of the candles to the old slab of wood until it caught fire. He stood back and watched as the clothes, and eventually the bodies themselves, became engulfed. The room was made of mortar and stone, and so the blaze probably wouldn't reach beyond it once the table and the flesh had burned out, but Will didn't care whether it did or it didn't. House of God or no House of God, Cormac had been killed there, and for that, part of Will would be happy to see it burn.

As Will climbed the stairs from the basement, he decided he would make a run for the closest window, unsure of whether he would be able to make it across the entire church to the exit. When he reached the top of the stairs, he ran as fast as he could through the vestry and out past the altar. As he neared the first row of pews, the sickness fell upon him like a sack of bricks, nearly brining him to his knees again, but he was feeling much stronger than before, and mustering every bit of that strength, he bounded across the front pew and crashed through a stained glass window along the wall. He landed on the walkway outside and the impact hurt more than he anticipated due to his weakened state, but he had avoided vomiting any blood, and after lying there for a few moments, he immediately began to feel better and regained all his strength.

Iona was north, an island off the coast of Scotland, that is all Will knew about it. He had no one to guide him and no familiarity with how long the journey might take, but he knew he had only a few hours before sunrise. The only plan he could invent was to drive north to the coast and hope to find a friendly soul before daybreak who could get him on a ferry to Scotland, and that's what he did.

Will arrived in Larne, a seaport on the east coast of Northern Ireland, in just over an hour. He abandoned Cormac's car by the harbor and searched the area for someone who could direct him. It wasn't quite dawn and activity was minimal, but he spotted a young soldier walking hurriedly along the roadway. Will asked him if he might know which of the vessels was headed to Scotland. He pointed Will to a large ferry, at least one hundred yards in length or more, and told Will he thought it was heading to Stranraer sometime that morning, then rushed away without inquisition. Will stealthily climbed aboard the ferry and stowed himself away below deck. It was hours before he heard others board and even longer before they departed. Will had no idea where Stranraer was, or where any place in Scotland was, but he did know that Glasgow was its largest city and if he could make it there, he'd find his way to Iona. So after the short trip across the North Channel of the Irish Sea, Will placed Cormac's sunglasses on his face and climbed to the deck of the ferry, blinded by the light of day. He acted overly disoriented, pretending to be fearful that he had boarded the wrong ship. A British naval officer took pity on him and assisted.

"I lost my sight in Tunisia," Will said, "and I'm trying to get to Glasgow to reunite with my wife."

When they docked, the empathetic officer escorted Will to the nearby railway station in Stanraer and even paid for his ticket to Glasgow. Will was able to sleep on the train, and by the time he arrived in Glasgow, it was nightfall. The clock in the station indicated that it was half past nine. He asked, but there were no trains headed toward Iona until the following day, and he was told it would be a full day trip because of the train route.

Will left the station and wandered the street until he came upon an idling taxi. The driver was inside sifting through a moderate stack of money. When Will knocked on the window, the driver was startled and shoved the money between his thigh and the seat. Will motioned for him to roll down the window. The driver opened it a crack. "Whaddya need?" he said.

"How far to Iona?" Will said.

"You'd need a ferry for that."

"But how far to the port where I can catch that ferry?"

"I don't go that far, pal."

"How long of a drive would it be if you did?" Will said.

The driver crooked his neck and raised an eyebrow as he silently calculated it. "Maybe five hours," he said, "give or take."

Will walked to the passenger side of the car, prepared to rip open the locked door, but it wasn't locked. He slid into the passenger seat.

"Get the fuck out," the driver said, swinging for Will's head with a clenched backhand.

Will grabbed his forearm with one hand and took hold of his face with the other, forcing him to look squarely at him. Will exposed his fangs and stared into the man's eyes.

"Take me where I need to go," Will said.

The driver nodded as best he could with Will's fingers clenched onto his jaw. Will released him and they were on their way.

The driver brought Will to Fionnphort, which was just about a mile across the Sound of Iona from the island.

"Are you gonna kill me?" the driver said.

"No, but I do need something else," Will said.

Before the driver could think to ask what he needed, Will pulled the man's head into him and sank his teeth into his neck. The man whimpered for a moment, but then went silent from the shock of what was happening. Will was still nourished from the two soldiers he had drained, but wanted to be prepared. He didn't know what he might find himself up against on the island and he had no idea when he might have the opportunity to feed again. He took more than he should have, but not enough to kill the man. Will touched his fingers to the holes he had left and said a brief prayer, then placed the man, who was wide-eyed and frozen with fear, against his seat.

"You will be alright," Will said. He looked down at the messy heap of cash on the seat. "I'm sorry, but I may need some of this." Will took about half the pile and shoved it into his pocket. "Thank you."

Will left the car and walked to the shoreline. He could see the coast of Iona not far off, so rather than make the effort to commander another boat, he dove into the water and swam across at the speed of a dolphin, prepared to face the Aos Sí creature the clergyman spoke of.

# 26

Will reached the shore of Iona with no idea of where to find the Hill of the Angels. He was soaked through, but didn't feel the cold the way he had as a human. The feeling was refreshing and he welcomed it. It was several hours before sunrise and there was no one on the quiet island to be found. He started down the road along the shoreline and soon came to a home. It was predictably dark and lifeless, but Will didn't have time to wait for a more convenient encounter. He approached the home and knocked on the door. He had to try a couple of times, each time a bit louder, before there was any sign of life inside. Eventually a light went on and he could hear someone shuffling toward the door. A woman at least a few years past middle age opened the door without even asking who might be on the other side, and Will thought that was very bold of her. Will inferred that it must be a very quiet island, void of crime and likely any type of formal law enforcement, and that would make things a little less complicated for him. Will expected to have the door slammed in his face once she realized it was a strange man standing at her doorstep, but she was bold indeed.

"Who are you and what is your business at this hour?" she said, and before Will could reply, she quickly added, "Are you wet, sir?" She leaned her head against the screen of the door, looking upward in search for signs of rain. Finding none, she returned her gaze to Will. "Are you swimming with your clothes on, sir?"

"I just need some direction, ma'am, I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"The Abbey is north, up this road," she said, point back in the direction Will had come from.

"Not the Abbey, ma'am, I'm looking for the Hill of the Angels."

The woman looked at Will as though he had spoken in tongues. "Odd hour to be sightseeing," she said, "especially something that's nothing more than a mound of grass."

Will thought for a moment. "I'm meeting someone, but I'm early. It's why I'm wet. I decided not to wait for the ferry."

"You swam? From the mainland? Good lord, do you need to come inside and get warm?"

"Thank you, ma'am, but I'm fine. If you could just point me in the right direction, I'd be much obliged," Will said.

"Well who are you going to meet? I know near about everyone on this island."

The question caught Will off guard again. "I'm a little embarrassed," he finally said, "not sure you'd understand."

"Must be a young lady then," she said with a disapproving look.

"No, not at all. It's more private than that. It's the Lord, ma'am. I've come to speak with Lord. I'm having a tough go at it right now and I heard that the Hill of Angels is sacred, and so I thought perhaps I might find some sort of a sign there, and I'd like to get there before sunrise if I might."

"Oh my," the woman said, "your relationship with the Lord is the last thing you should ever be embarrassed about."

"Thank you for understanding." Will reached into his pocket and retrieved the fold of money. "Please let me pay you for your time and to make up for the ridiculous hour of my disturbance."

The woman was about to speak, but as Will looked up from counting out the money, the light from the room behind her caught Will's complexion and she paused for a moment before speaking. "You have the eyes of an angel," she said.

"Thank you, ma'am." Will presented the money, waiting for her to reach outside the screen door and claim it.

It caught her attention, but she waved it off. "Heavens no, you keep that money." She pointed down the road, opposite the direction Will had come. "Keep down the road until it turns right, then follow it about a kilometer. On your left, you'll see a farm. In front of it, just off the road, is a small grassy knoll. That's Sìthean Mòr. The Hill of the Angels."

Will put the money back into his pocket and gave the woman a nod. "I'm very grateful," he said.

"Do you need a light?" she said.

"I prefer the light of the moon," he said.

"Well good luck then and God bless you."

"And you as well."

The door shut and Will toured the parameter of the home in search of a shovel. He recalled the clergyman saying that the secrets were buried within the hill. He may have meant it figuratively, but Will wanted to be prepared. He found no tools though, and ran off in the direction the woman had sent him empty handed, arriving at the hill within two minutes.

The woman had been right; there was nothing discernible about the hill. It was no different than any other hundreds, if not thousands, of mounds of grass he had come across in all his years in Ireland. He climbed it and stood atop it, examining every side of it.

"Hello?" he said, in a soft voice.

No reply.

He went to the nearby farm and found a shovel there. It was a least a few hours till sunrise and the entire island was in slumber. He climbed the hill again, raised the spaded shovel, and drove it into the ground. A shriek came from the break in the earth he had created with the shovel. The ultrasonic noise practically crippled Will. He pressed his hands to his ears trying to muffle the pitch of it. It compromised his equilibrium and he stumbled off the hill and onto the ground below. The noise stopped and Will got to his feet. Standing at the top of the hill next to the shovel that was still speared into the earth was a woman. She was tall and slender. It may have been because she was standing on the hill, but Will was certain she was nearly as tall as him. Her hair was long and dark, and the contrast of it against her fair skin made it appear darker than it actually was. Her complexion had a soft glow about it, like the frosted glass of a warm lamp, and it held a faint glimmer. Her sapphire eyes sparkled as well and Will thought he understood what people felt when they took notice of his own eyes. Most of her was covered though, from the base of her neck to her wrists and ankles, in a greenish, fitted, almost scaly material. If not for Will's enhanced vision as a vampire, he might have mistaken the covering for actual skin.

"I am here –" Will began to say.

She opened her mouth as if waiting for a bite of food to be placed on her tongue and the noise came again – that ultrasonic, high-pitched shriek that felt like it was piercing in through Will's eardrums and exiting out through his eye sockets. Will covered his ears and dropped to one knee to avoid losing his balance. It continued for several seconds, which felt more like several minutes to Will. When she stopped, Will remained on his knee, as if paying tribute to a queen on her throne.

"I know why you are here, Nephilim, and you have come in vain," she said.

Her speech was like a hymn and it amazed Will that a creature could emit both the most painful sound as well as the most beautiful he had ever heard.

"I know what I look like to you, but I am not what I appear. A messenger of the Ineffable Name has sent me," Will said.

Her mouth opened and again the sound she made pierced his ears. It was brief this time, and when she relented, Will burst to his feet and up the hill toward her. He reached the woman in the blink of an eye and attempted to take hold of her neck and pin her down so that he could prevent her screams and explain himself, but she was as quick as him and as he reached for her, she swiped his arm away and spun her leg around, sweeping Will's out from under him. He flipped over and landed on his back midway down the other side of the hill. Will rushed to his feet, but this time, instead of a physical assault, an orb of light flashed around the woman, much like the light Will had produced in his battle against the vampires before he was turned. Will collided with the blinding light and the impact blasted him off the hill, landing him several yards away onto the road that had led him there. The back of his head slammed against the gravel and he was disoriented for a moment. When he got to his feet, she was soaring toward him, foot-first, in midair. Will emanated his own light just as she was about to strike him. She fell to the ground and screeched in pain, the same screech that had brought Will to his knees before, but the noise of it was distorted by the light radiating around Will and was not nearly as unbearable.

The woman silenced herself and jumped back onto the hill. "What are you?" she said.

Will extinguished his light. "I am the Parousia," he said.

"That cannot be. The Parousia and the Nephilim cannot be one."

"I don't know what the Nephilim are exactly, other than to assume that they are what most humans call vampires, and it is true that I am one of them, but that has not always been the case. I was born a human, a human with divine abilities, and was transformed by a very old vampire named Alulim."

A deeper look of concern settled into her face.

"You know of Alulim?" Will said.

"Has he come here with you?" she said.

"No, we had a conflict and he left me to burn in the sun."

"And how did you survive?" she said.

"The light of the sun is blinding to me, but not fatal it turns out. Unbeknownst to Alulim, or me at the time."

"If what you say is true, if you are truly are unharmed by the light of the sun, then you must be something more than Nephilim, for it is not possible that the Nephilim could survive it."

Will thought of Evangelos and immediately understood why Alulim valued his unique ability to the degree that he had.

"And you plan to seek vengeance on Alulim?" the woman said.

"I do," Will said.

"How so?"

"That is part of what I am here seeking answers to, and I believe those answers can be found in the missing pages of the Book of Kells. The pages of Enoch, which are said to be guarded by the Aos Sí. Is that you?"

"I have been referenced by many names in many lands – Aos Sí, Fairy, Siren – but my given name is Lorelai."

Will gave a gentle bow. "Hello, Lorelai, I am Will."\

Lorelai took notice of the sky. "Soon the sun will rise," she said. "If your story is truthful and you do not perish in its light, then I will provide you with the knowledge you have come in search of."

"That is fair, but I will not be able to see anything once dawn breaks."

She floated off the hill, landing a few yards before him. "Have you been graced with the gift of flight?" she said.

"I wouldn't be this wet if I had been," Will said, "but my friend – " he paused. "A vampire who befriended me, but has since been killed, told me it takes time for our powers to develop once we become vampires."

"Take my hand," Lorelai said, presenting an open palm.

Will did as she requested. She squeezed Will's hand and suddenly they were airborne. Like an arrow from a bow, they shot across the island, heading north, about fifty yards above the land. Will tried to take note of its layout in case he needed to find his way back across the island, but within moments, they were over the ocean, rocketing across it faster than Will had ever run or swam, and he wished that he would be blessed with the power of flight. The moonlight shimmered across the surface of the sea. Will looked up and saw that they were headed toward a formation of land - a giant wall of basalt rock stood in their path, and as they rocketed toward it, Will wondered at what point Lorelai would pull them up over it, but the closer they came, the more fearful he grew that she planned to sail right into it. As Will was about to alert her of his concern, he saw the black hole in the heart of the land mass. It was a cave, an entryway to the hollow center of an ancient lava-made island.

As they reached the mouth of the cave, Lorelai reduce speed drastically and glided them down to a pedestal of rocks just inside. "We will be exposed to the sun here," she said. "If you survive, we will go inside this cave and I will provide you with the information you came for."

When Will looked off at the horizon, his vision became hazy and he knew that dawn was minutes away. He could see the crest of Iona from where he stood.

"Where are we now?" he said.

"This island is called Staffa," Lorelai said. "It is uninhabited by humans and safe in daylight."

Will looked out across the ocean again and his sight faded quickly and soon all he saw was the blanket of white. The heat of the sun warmed the damp clothes clinging to him.

"And so the prophecy is true and the Messiah has risen in the country named Ireland," Lorelai said.

Will felt her hand on his, and his feet levitated off the ground. As they glided deeper into the cave, the light of the sun faded away and Will's sight sharpened. The cave was narrow and the walls were lined with columns of stone, the shorter groups of which reminded Will of miniature cities crowded with skyscrapers he had seen in magazines. When it was all black, they came to rest on a stone ledge and Lorelai released him. Ocean water flowed in, splashing against the walls of the cave and creating a gentle waterfall sound. Will recalled how there was a time before the smell of blood was all he cared for, a time when the smell of the sea was what excited him.

"There is no simple explanation for what you come asking for," Lorelai said.

"I assumed you would simply hand me the tattered missing pages of the Book of Kells to read and that would be enough," Will said.

"Those pages do not exist anymore, but they were not stolen by pillagers of Iona as history is designed to have you believe. They were destroyed shortly after the book was created. Though the book provided many of the answers the Parousia would need in order to avoid the same fate as the first Messiah, it could be dangerous if fallen into the wrong hands."

"Such as Alulim's," Will said.

"Such as him."

"What was contained within these pages?" Will said.

"The book of Enoch, the missing gospel. Do you know of Enoch?" Lorelai said.

"I recognize the name from the bible, but I don't recall his place in it."

"Enoch was a descendent of the man you call Adam, his four-times-great-grandson. He lived many years ago in a time when the guardians of the Lord's work, who were referred to as the Watchers, roamed the earth, keep their eye on the humans."

"Angels?" Will said.

"As some have named them," Lorelai said, giving a nod of confirmation before continuing. "There grew a divide between these Angels over time. For one group of them had taken to living, fornicating, and breeding with the humans. These Angels, often referred to as the fallen ones, were known as the Grigori. Their behavior was frowned upon by the Lord, and so the obedient Angels, familiar to you as the Archangels, took exception to it. However, in the hundreds of years before Enoch was born, civility remained for many years, but relations between human women and the Grigori spawned a creature outside the creation of the lord." \

"Vampires?" Will said.

"The Nephilim. Humans lived many years longer back when the Angels lived amongst them. The Nephilim were similar to the humans in many ways, but they aged more slowly, so much so that some thought them to be immortal like the Grigori who had helped spawn them. The Nephilim had one flaw though."

"The sun," Will said.

"Not then. Back then the Nephilim roamed the earth as they pleased, but they required continued consumption of the blood of the humans that had birthed them in order to sustain themselves."

"And a war between the Nephilim and the humans resulted?" Will said.

"Not in the beginning." Lorelai levitated from her seat on the rock beside Will and hovered above the channel of water beneath them, turning to face him. "For a number of years, harmony between the two species endured, as the human family members of the Nephilim willingly shared their blood with them, just as a mother shares her milk with a hungry child."

"Harmony," Will said, considering his own situation and how serene life would be if people willing shared their blood with him as the family in Wales had done. "So what happened to change everything?"

"The first female Nephilim, born to a human woman and fathered by a member of the Grigori named Samyaza, developed affection for a human man. This creature's name was Lilith."

"Said by some legends to be the second wife of Adam," Will said.

"Adam," Lorelai said with a knowing grin. "So his name is remembered and documented in the Bible. The untrue name of the first human to walk the earth."

"Untrue?" Will said.

"An error, misspelled and misspoken, perhaps by intention, or perhaps not. Nonetheless, the true name of the first human created in the Lord's likeness was known as Alulim."

Will stared blankly at Lorelai, waiting for her to help him understand what he found to be incomprehensible.

"It is true," she said. "Alulim was the first human created by the Lord and was also the first human to be poisoned by the Nephilim and turned into the species that has since become known as Vampire."

"But how is that possible?"

"Lilith was beautiful, some have said she was the most beautiful creature to have walked the earth, and she could have almost any creature she desired."

"Any except Alulim," Will said.

"The bond which the Lord had created between Alulim and Eve was so great that Alulim shunned Lilith and she became enraged. She wanted to drink the blood of Eve in hopes that it would make her more desirable to Alulim, but Eve refused and so Lilith forced herself upon Eve and drank greedily. She drank more of Eve's blood than a Nephilim had ever consumed in one feeding. She drank until there was no more to be had."

"She killed her," Will said.

"The first a Nephilim had ever murdered a human. Lilith claims that was not her intent, and that may be true, but Eve died nevertheless, and Alulim and the Archangels banned Lilith from Eden."

"And that is what divided the two sides?"

"It further set the feud in motion," Lorelai said. "Lilith returned to her father, Samyaza, dejected and ashamed. Samyaza was the most powerful of the Grigori, and the Archangel's unwillingness to forgive his daughter's error and welcome her back into Eden infuriated him, so he instructed her to return to Eden under the veil of night, and he granted her the vision she would need to see in darkness, then he told her to do to Alulim as she had done to Eve, and when his blood had been fully drained, she was to discharge her own blood into his mouth, and so Samyaza gave her blood the ability to awaken the dead into a likeness such as herself, so that when Alulim woke he would worship her as his new maker, reborn as a child of the Nephilim."

"And so the first vampire was created," Will said.

"And so it was."

"And Alulim didn't resent Lilith for what she had done?"

"Quite the opposite. She had granted him immortality without the fear of death or judgment of God, and convinced him that she loved him, and that she never intended to harm Eve. He was taken by her beauty as though he were under a spell."

The last sentence triggered thoughts of Satiah in Will's mind, and his desire for her. He wondered how much of this history she was familiar with.

"This act of defiance by Samyaza infuriated the Lord," Lorelai continued. "When the first humans had been created and the Watchers descended to the earth, the Lord declared that no Watcher should have the power to slaughter the first creatures of earth that He had created, so when Samyaza used Lilith as a way to bypass this decree, the Lord took it as an act of disobedience, and so he barred Samyaza and the Grigori from entering back into the paradise of Heaven, threatening them with banishment from the earth as well if they were to act out against him again."

"And what became of Lilith?" Will said.

"Lilith and Alulim conceived a child, the only known offspring born of a Nephilim or Vampire woman. They gave birth to a child named Agrimus, a very unique and devilish looking creature, and the forth son of Alulim, after Cain, Abel, and Seth. Alulim tried to retain relations between his other sons and his new family, as well as between the Grigori and the Archangels, but the Nephilim had grown greedy and were feeding on humans as they desired and without concern for the human's mortality, just as Lilith had done to Eve. Agrimus was turning into the wickedest of all creatures, and he possessed the gift his mother had passed on to both him and Alulim."

"The ability to turn humans to vampires," Will said.

"Correct," Lorelai said. "Alulim implored Agrimus to stop, just as he had called for all humans and Nephilim to live in harmony once again, but his pleas went ignored. Even Alulim's own children, and the children of their children, refused to acknowledge Agrimus as kin, and they remained resentful and unforgiving of Lilith. This went on for hundreds of years, through generations. Eventually, the Archangels warned Samyaza and the other Grigori to put to a stop to the behavior of their Nephilim spawn, but the Grigori refused. Samyaza, who had once been at the right hand of the Lord, had grown tired of answering to God, and just as God had created man and earth as he saw fit, so too did Samyaza want to create his own race of creatures, whom he could be the sole god of."

"Satan," Will said.

Lorelai continued without acknowledging the comment. "The Archangels and the Grigori had been forbidden by God to war with one another, so the Archangels made God aware of how the humans were being treated, and of Samyaza's defiance. For only few of the original guardians of the earth knew God's true and ineffable name, which was only to be used by those who had been given permission to communicate directly with God, and Samyaza had begun to reveal this name to other Grigori and to certain Nephilim, such as Lilith. Upon hearing this, God granted the Archangels, known as Michael, Uriel, Raphael, and Gabriel, the power to banish the Grigori to the fiery abyss known as Tartarus."

"And how does Enoch, who the pages of this story are named for, factor into this?" Will said.

"God then came to Enoch, the descendant of Alulim and Eve's son, Seth. God instructed Enoch to teach his son, Methuselah, all he knew of God's plan and the wicked doings of the Nephilim, for Methuselah was to be a soldier and was to purge the earth of all the Nephilim. Enoch did as he was instructed, and documented these accounts of the early years of earth's creation for his descendants, and so God took him into his kingdom as a reward. God then placed a scourge on the earth, making the light of the Lord unsafe for the creatures of the undead to bask in."

"Hence a vampire's inability to survive in the light of day," Will said.

"Most vampires," Lorelai said, nodding her head in Will's direction.

"Most," Will said with a gratified smile.

"This done," Lorelai continued, "God blessed Methuselah with the power to write His true Ineffable Name on the blade of Methuselah's sword so that he may slay the entirety of the Nephilim with the power of the Lord. Samyaza grew suspicious of a plot against him, and before the Archangel Michael came to banish him, Samyaza instructed Lilith and Alulim to hide, and so they took Agrimus, who also brought with him many of the vampires he had created, and they fled along with many other Nephilim down into the dark caves in the deepest depths of the Dead Sea, where no human, not even Methuselah, could venture to or survive in. Once Samyaza and the other Grigori were gone from the earth, Methuselah took his sword to battle and slayed the heads of hundreds upon hundreds of Nephilim. A vampire who witnessed this massacre also fled into hiding and brought word to Agrimus of what was happening. Against his parent's wishes, Agrimus traveled back to the surface of the earth to beg Methuselah, a fellow descendant of Alulim and therefore distant relative, to stop, promising him that the Nephilim would end their wicked ways and would live peacefully with the humans once again, taking only the blood they were offered and instructing all vampires to do the same."

"But Methuselah killed him anyway," Will said.

"Methuselah wanted to kill all the Nephilim, just as he had been commanded to do, and he especially wanted Lilith, whom Enoch had informed him had murdered Eve. And so Methuselah made a deal with Agrimus. If the remaining Nephilim behaved, he would spare them. And if he betrayed their agreement, the sword he slayed them with would be granted the power to open the gates of Tartarus and free the Grigori to resurrect them. Methuselah then proclaimed the Ineffable Name, swearing upon the name etched on his sword to make it so."

"And God allowed that?" Will said.

"When the Lord grants power to others, he often concedes the ability to control the consequences of them, and so was the case with the powers of the sword he had gifted to Methuselah. This sword wasn't simply a weapon, it was the power of God himself, providing Methuselah the autonomy to extinguish the Nephilim as he saw fit."

"And where is this Sword of Methuselah today?"

"Agrimus returned to the depths of the Dead Sea to gather the Nephilim. It was daylight and so Alulim and the other vampires could not join them until sunset. Alulim begged his son not to go without him, fearful that it was a trap. Alulim wanted to pray to his original maker. He wanted to beg the Lord for the forgiveness of Lilith's and Agrimus' prior sins, and ask that He allow them one more chance to live peacefully amongst the humans. Agrimus persisted though and Lilith supported him. And so they returned to the surface, but not before Agrimus explained the deal he had made with Methuselah to Alulim, instructing his father to retrieve the sword if Methuselah were to renege on the agreement, then command the gates of Tartarus to open and tell Samyaza to resurrect him. Alulim swore that he would, and so the Nephilim met Methuselah atop Mount Hermon to display their truce before the Lord."

"But Methuselah slayed them instead," Will said.

"He did, and he burned them all, with the exception of Agrimus, whose head he impaled on a stake at the peak of the mountain as a symbol of victory and a declaration to the Lord and to all creatures that humans once again reigned the earth under God. Methuselah then called upon the Archangels to hide his sword where no creature could find it."

Will raised a palm, motioning for Lorelai to pause. "When I was in Africa with Alulim," he said, "I found a concealed tomb that I'm confident belonged to Alulim. In it was a mummified corpse, the head of which seemed to be attached only by cloth, and the feet were claw-like and not of a human or a vampire. At least not any that I have seen."

"Agrimus," Lorelai said.

"Alulim has kept him all this time?"

"For all his sins, Alulim did love his son very much and he has not lost sight of the vow he made to find the Sword of Methuselah and allow Samyaza to give his son life again."

"And did Alulim kill Methuselah for what he had done?"

"Methuselah lived many more years. Since the Lord cannot kill what is already dead, even if it is now undead, and since they did not want to risk taking Methuselah's sword out of hiding, the Lord made the habitats of humans sacred so that the vampires are unable to enter unless invited. And so Methuselah and his family walked in peace in the light of day, and slept soundly in their protected homes at night."

"And what about the other humans and vampires?" Will said.

"For the first years after the death of Agrimus, there were many battles between the humans and the vampires. The vampires were far superior in their abilities, but the humans drastically outnumbered them. Humans lost lives, but their large armies slayed dozens upon dozens of vampires. Fearful of their extinction, Alulim retreated the vampires back to Dead Sea where he told them to remain until Samyaza was freed and the curses the Lord had placed upon the earth were lifted. Since that time, Alulim has inconspicuously scoured the earth for clues of the sword's whereabouts, careful not to draw the attention of humans, and turning only those who he feels bring value to him in his quest for the sword."

"Within Agrimus' shroud there was an old piece of parchment," Will said. "The words on it read, the curse will be broken where it was forged and the second kingdom shall reign over the land of the rising son. It has since been destroyed, but there were also drawings on it that I am not sure of. One of them was what looked to be an arm with a finger pointing at an odd shape, and another was three upside down V-shapes with a picture of a goat next to them."

"The arm and the finger pointing to the object is the shape of the Dead Sea from above, at least that was its shape thousands of years ago, and the other picture represents Mount Hermon," Lorelai said.

"Ah, the V-shapes are mountains," Will said.

"And from above the earth, the land of Mount Hermon forms the shape of a goat's head."

"And if he is resurrected, that is where Alulim wants Agrimus to go?"

Lorelai glided over to the stone pillars along the wall of the cave and sat back down next to Will. "There were agreements between the Lord and Samyaza to keep them from destroying one another," she said, "likely formed following the split amongst the Watchers, but only Samyaza and the Lord know the specifics of their arrangement and the rules within. When the Lord gave Michael and the other Archangels the power to banish Samyaza and the Grigori to Tartarus, it is believed that he broke these rules, surrendering much of the power He and the Archangels had over the Heavens and the earth in doing so."

"And Alulim knows all of this?" Will said.

"As the Archangel Michael was about to rid the earth of him, Samyaza declared the betrayal of the Lord and vowed that upon his eventual escape from Tartarus, he would acquire the power to avenge this act of duplicity, and would gather his army and ascend to the Heaven he had once been forbidden to return to, and would purge it of its angels, banish the Lord, and take control of all creation."

"And if Alulim gains possession of the Sword of Methuselah, this could come to fruition."

"If Alulim is able to use the sword to free Samyaza, I believe he will gather the army of vampires from within the Dead Sea, and after feeding and strengthening themselves on the blood of humans, they will travel to the summit of Mount Hermon where they will congregate with the Grigori before entering into Heaven and destroying it. Once done, they will resurrect Agrimus, and he and Alulim will create an earth dominated by vampires, where humans exist as nothing more than prey for the vampires, and slaves to their debauchery."

"And the second kingdom shall reign," Will said.

Lorelai gave a nod of confirmation. "The writing you found on the parchment prophesizing this was not intended for Agrimus though," she said. "The drawings are for Agrimus, instructing him to return to the Dead Sea upon his resurrection, but the writing is directed at anyone else who might find the body, just as you did. The prophecy is a threat, meant to refute that of the Book of Kells."

"If Alulim is familiar with the Book of Kells and the story within the pages of Enoch, then why bother removing them?" Will said.

"The book foretells of the arrival of the Messiah in what is now known as Ireland, but at one time, it also foretold of this Messiah wielding Methuselah's sword."

"I came not only to bring peace, but a sword," Will said.

"Exactly," Lorelai said. "Once Alulim learned of the book's existence and its foretelling of the Parousia, the book had to be modified to exclude any indication of the sword. You see, Alulim has always believed that the sword is meant to be in permanent hiding and never to be removed in order to prevent the risk of it falling into his hands. This had been true, until Alulim's strengths continued to greaten, and it was realized that the only way to truly ensure that the Grigori remain imprisoned in Tartarus is to eliminate the creature most determined to free them."

"So why are the Archangels not able to retrieve the sword and slay Alulim?"

"You must remember the first decree the Lord made when the Watchers descended to earth," Lorelai said.

Will thought for a moment before replying. "That no Watcher should have the power to slaughter the first creatures of earth that He created."

Lorelai nodded. "The Archangels are bound by certain laws of creation, laws first set into place by the Lord in order to protect what he had made. Alulim may have been poisoned by the Nephilim, but he was once created and blessed by the hand of the Lord."

"And so God's plan is to use me in order to bypass his own laws, just as Samyaza once used Lilith," Will said.

"If you are truly the Parousia, which I believe you to be, then yes. And whether it was fated by the Lord, or simply a devilish act that wound up in our favor, it is certainly helpful that Alulim believes you to be dead, as trying to gain possession of the sword with him tracking you would be a great risk."

"I doubt that I have much time before he finds out otherwise," Will said. "It seems he has many eyes and ears, and I suspect it is only a matter of time before I unknowingly draw attention to myself."

"I agree," Lorelai said.

"So then, where might I find this sword?"

"The sword is not hidden amongst the earth waiting to be discovered. It is not within the caves or the tombs, or upon the mountains, or sunken in the vast oceans of this world as Alulim hopes for it to be."

"Then what must I do?" Will said.

Lorelai stood and hovered on the surface of the seawater sloshing beneath them. "The sword is granted by speaking the words of the Ineffable Name upon its blade," she said.

"Which are what?"

Lorelai stared at Will, providing him no response, and her body began to produce a soft glow, as though a bulb of light had been turned on inside of her. She lifted her arms so that her hands were at shoulder length.

"Are you alright?" Will said.

The light that illuminated Lorelai in the dark cave intensified and formed an orb around her so bright that Will could barely make out what was happening. Before he could ask, the orb burst and an explosion of light blasted through the cave and knocked Will into a state of unconsciousness.

# 27

When Will woke, he was suspended in midair, and it almost didn't feel real to him. The scene felt strange, like the moment in a dream just before it ends. There were four creatures standing over him, as though he were a wounded soldier on an operating table being examined by a team of doctors, but these creatures were unlike anything Will had seen before. They each had the characteristics of a human – two arms, two legs, ten fingers – but their heads were larger, as were the eyes inside them, and their fingers were slender and elongated. The creatures were dark, and the space they were in was dark as well, but each of the creatures had a luminance about them. Their large, sunken faces lacked the features of a human, most notably a nose, and when the first one spoke, its small mouth did not move. Will could hear it though, and he knew that it could hear his thoughts as well, just as he had once communicated with Evangelos.

"Ehyeh-Ašer-Ehyeh," the creature said.

It took a moment for Will to register what the words could mean. They were spoken in a tongue he had not heard before.

"The Ineffable Name?" he finally said.

"The intimation of the Ineffable Name," the creature said.

"But I don't understand what the words mean," Will said.

"Ehyeh Ašer Ehyeh," a second creature said, "I am That I am."

Will could not move, but he was not frightened. He felt assured. "I am That I am," he said.

"And who are you?" the first creature said.

"I am Will."

The creatures all nodded, encouragingly.

Will thought for another moment. "I am Will I am."

"Ehyah," the second creature said, "I am."

"Ehyah," Will said. "Ehyah Will."

The creatures again nodded in unison, and Will could feel them urging him to say more.

"Ehyah Will –"

Will woke again, abruptly, as though what he had just experienced was in fact a dream, but it felt too real for that, so real that he was disoriented from the sudden change in location, of being one place, then within the blink of a moment, being somewhere entirely different and new. He was lying in a field of grass, staring up at the night sky. Where had the day gone? he wondered. He was in the cave with Lorelai in the early morning hours, then was somewhere else for what felt like the briefest of time, and suddenly he was back on solid ground and it was night.

He sat up and looked around. It appeared he had been dropped onto a grassy knoll, but as he stood, he realized he was on an island. It was small and he could see the ocean spanning miles in every direction. There was no sign of life – no homes, no boats, no livestock. It was quiet, save for the waves splashing up against the tall stone walls that towered above the sea and made up the island.

"Hello?" Will said.

No reply.

"Lorelai?"

No one answered.

Will was feeling weak and knew he needed to feed before doing anything else, but there was nothing to be had. He began to walk the perimeter of the island and when he came to the south end of it, he could see a body of land out across the water. It was a far swim and would require much of his energy, and if he arrived there to find no options for feeding, he might be too weak to make it anywhere else, especially if sunrise were to come soon. He had no sense of time nor place, and he was short on options, but he thought back to the experience he had just had – the dream or whatever it had been – and he wondered whether it was best to call upon the sword in that moment, while he was alone and far away from any trace of Alulim. At least then he would have it, so that if he had to face any sort of battle with the vampires while in a weakened state, he could manage.

Will thought back to the surreal memory and retrieved the words he had spoken in it. He looked to the starry black abyss above and spoke at it in a clear and commanding tone, ""Ehyeh-Will-Ehyeh."

Will opened his hand and reached it toward the sky, expecting that the magical sword Lorelai had spoken of, the one that required the Ineffable Name that Will believed he had just spoken, would fall into it. He waited, zealous and emboldened, but there was nothing, not so much as a clap of thunder or quake in the earth. Will dropped his hand to his side and played through the memory in his mind again, mouthing the words he recalled speaking, the ones the celestial creatures had goaded him to say. They were the same words he had just uttered, and he recalled them as clearly as his own name. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a noise behind him. It was the bleat of an animal and it startled him. He spun around quickly and found a goat sitting about ten yards away from where he stood. It was staring at him. It let out another loud bleat, then sat motionless, its eyes still fixated on Will.

"How the hell?" Will said, surveying the island again with his eyes, wondering where the goat could have come from. There was nothing on the island before, he was sure of it, certainly not a goat. His vision was too acute to have missed an animal of that size. "I don't understand," Will said to it. So many strange events had unfolded that Will half expected the goat to reply. But it didn't. It remained stoic, glaring at him. "It this another sign?" Will's voice grew louder and the agitation in it was sharp. "Are you the sword? Is the sword some type of magical goat? Or are you sacrificial?" he continued. "Am I supposed to feed on you for strength or something? I don't understand what I'm supposed to do here."

The goat rose onto all fours and sprinted off toward the edge of the island. Before Will could make sense of what was happening, the animal leapt off the cliff. Will waited in bewilderment, expecting to hear a splash as it hit the water, or perhaps a splatter as it collided with a rock below, but there was nothing. Will darted to the spot where the goat had jump off, and peered over the cliff. It was roughly a thirty yard drop and Will could find no sign of the animal's body below. It was as though the atmosphere had swallowed the goat whole as it traveled over the edge. Will raised his arms to the sky and opened his mouth in an effort to protest what he perceived to be an unnecessarily complicated exercise, but no words came to him. Unsure of what to say and very confident that he wouldn't receive a reply anyway, Will sat on the cliff, his feet dangling over, trying to ignore his growing hunger for blood. He searched his memory again, starting with everything Lorelai had told him, specifically trying to recall anything relating to a goat or some type of mystical animal, and the details came to him almost immediately; the picture of the goat's head on the parchment he had found. Lorelai had said it symbolized Mount Hermon as the place where the Watchers had first descended upon earth, and where the Grigori would enter the gates of Heaven should they ever be freed. It must also be the grounds upon which he would need to speak the Ineffable Name and claim the sword, Will thought.

Revitalized by the sudden clarity he was experiencing, Will got to his feet and raced toward the body of land he had spotted across the water to the south. He dove off the island, soaring head-first over the rocky landscape at its base, toward the cold, undulating sea, but he never hit the water. His trajectory should have waned and plunged him into the ocean, but instead he continued onward, sailing nearly twenty yards above the surface. It quickly registered with Will that he wasn't mid-dive; he was mid-flight. It was the same sensation as when Lorelai had flown them between islands and into the cave, but this time Will was doing it alone, rocketing through the night sky, though not quite as quickly. He had become slightly unsteady when he realized what was happening, much like the first time he rode a bicycle and turned to find that his father had let get of the seat, fearful that imbalance and gravity might take him down, or that he would missteer and crash into something. He adapted quickly though, as he found that the slightest shift of his shoulders would redirect him however he wanted, and that speeding up and slowing down was simply a matter of mental will and concentration.

As the land before him drew nearer, Will glanced back to see how far he had come in the mere moments since he had departed. He found that he was already about halfway between the islands, and upon seeing the open face of the island behind him, he realized it was the same island that housed the cave Lorelai had taken him to. He returned his focus to the land ahead, newly aware that he was traveling back to Iona. As he landed there – a tad awkwardly, but not terribly poor for his first attempt at it – he noticed that the skyline to the east was showing the first hint of daybreak. He wanted to quickly check the hill where he had first encountered Lorelai, but he needed to feed before the sun grew too bright, and even though he had just recently woken, he was tired and needed to rest. He had been in a state of unconscious, but whatever state it was, it hadn't been a well-rested sleep, which he knew he would need for whatever lie ahead.

Will was examining the landscape of the scarcely populated, slumbering island and considering his next move when he heard the faint sound of metal clink against metal. It was a noise he had heard dozens, if not hundreds of times throughout his youth, and it brought back that olfactory memory of musty livestock hide and composting manure, smells that any child from a farming community would not ever forget, but the memory of those smells suddenly became strongly overpowered by the scent of blood. The clink Will had heard was the sound of a slender metal handle colliding with the hollow bucket it was attached to after someone set it down. The someone in this case must have been an early riser on the island, preparing to tend to the chores of the day. Perhaps milking a goat or a cow, or feeding swine. Will was certain farming and trade was the only way folks survived on the island year-round, given the lack of markets.

Will sprinted in the direction of the sound, and about midway inland he came upon a modest home with a small barn attached to the back of it. He stealthily circled the home in search of life. He located the bucket on the other side of the barn sitting in the grass about equidistance from the entrance to the house and the door to the barn. He stood and waited for its owner to return for it. Inside the barn a goat bleated and Will took it as a sign that he was on the right track. Not so much a sign from God so much as the type of odd coincidence life sometimes provides.

A few moments later, a man slightly past middle age came limping out of the house door. It wasn't a heavy limp, more like a slow gait where one leg seemed to lag in comparison to the other. The man had a rag slung over his left shoulder and carried a lantern in his right hand. He didn't notice Will right away, clearly distracted by the tasks at hand and possibly still recovering from the haze of a deep sleep. Also, the sight of a strange man standing on his land at that hour of the day was not something he was likely accustomed to seeing. When he did register Will's presence, he stopped dead in his tracks. He didn't appear nervous or even confused by the randomness of it. It undoubtedly caught him off guard, but his look was one more of mild curiosity if anything, as though he had simply come upon an unexpected, yet uneventful element of wildlife. They stared at one another for several moments, and Will could see that he was a patient man who was perfectly content waiting for Will to state whatever business he had come for. Either that or he was a man with little passion left for life and simply didn't care one way or the other whether Will had come to borrow some milk, or to gut him and put him out of his misery.

Will took note of the brightening atmosphere. He didn't have time for explanations or preemptive apologies. The rays of the sun would soon burst over the horizon, and he needed to feed so that he could find a safe place to hibernate for the day before his vision disappeared. So Will overtook the man and put him on the ground before he could make Will feel bad about it. The man dropped his lantern and gripped Will's upper arms, but he didn't struggle or push back. He was bracing himself, but seemed accepting of what was happening, almost as if it were a routine he had experienced previously, and as Will opened his jaw and prepared to sink his fangs in, he caught sight of the fresh scars above the man's collar bone; four scabbing holes, unmistakably left by another vampire.

Will jumped to his feet and glanced all around him. No trace of any other creatures, and any other vampire would have had to have taken shelter by that point, or risk being fried in the sun.

"I am not the first vampire you have encountered?" Will said.

The man lie frozen on the ground, his eyes clamped shut and lips pressed together so tightly that they had become white. "Please just get it over with," he said.

Will wanted to press him for information, but it would have to wait. His vision was becoming more compromised by the moment. He also would have liked to spare the man the horror of being stripped of his dignity and fed on again, but there was no choice. He needed to be fully nourished and rested if there was another vampire lurking on the island. Will would need to destroy it if they were to encounter one another, otherwise, he would run the risk of being found out. Will climbed back on top of the man and drank until his prey was dangerously low on blood, but still conscious.

"Please kill me," the man said in a raspy whisper. "No more demons. Send me to my judgment."

Will considered the request. The man was clearly scarred emotionally as much as he had been physically, and Will could use the remainder of his blood, but Will's conscience wouldn't allow it, so Will healed him, and as he did, the man's eyes widened with amazement.

"Is that it then?" the man said. "Have I gone to the next life?"

He wasn't speaking to Will though. His wide eyes were fixated on the transitioning sky above as it brightened before him.

Will had no time to clarify the situation. He rushed toward the barn, but he was unable to enter. It was like pushing against a granite wall as he tried to make his way inside. But it's a barn, Will thought. He stepped back to examine the structure and was reminded that it was attached to and was therefore actually a part of the home.

"Invite me inside, sir, please," Will said.

But the man still lay on the ground in a catatonic state, staring goofily toward space. Everything within Will's lessening range of vision had a foggy hue to it, which thickened by the second. He looked around. He didn't need anything fancy, just an obscure spot where he could go undisturbed for the day. He ran across the island, searching for anything that could accommodate him as the blanket of brilliant white fell over him. He reached the shore, out of options and just a moment away from being fully blinded and completely out of time. He spotted the figure of a small boat, a row boat similar to the one he and Cormac used to share when they fished in the estuary back home, flipped upside down. It rested against a small hill of rocks and as best Will could tell was out of plain sight so that only someone with the intention of using the boat would bother with it.

Will lifted it just enough to slip underneath. It was just long enough to cover the length of him and he was reminded of his time spent in the confines of the coffin Alulim had provided him when he had first been turned. It also lacked comfort the same way the coffin had, but it didn't matter much to Will. He was weary and quickly faded into a sleep that he hoped would remain uninterrupted till nightfall.

# 28

In Will's dream, there were vampires. He couldn't see them, but he could feel them, seeking him out and getting closer to finding him. It was the first dream he had like this since before becoming a vampire. A premonition-like dream, the type that had driven him to join the war. He knew it was different because of the way the images were displayed – vivid and slow moving, providing him ample time to comprehend what he was seeing and to absorb the feelings he associated with them.

He knew there were vampires in his dream without even seeing them because he was preparing for battle with them. How he knew they were coming was not clear to him in the dream, just that he was anticipating them. Where he was exactly was also unclear, but it wasn't an island. It was more of a desert terrain, not dissimilar to what Africa had been like. It was dark of course, and as he stared into the abyss of night, he was reminded of the anxiety he had felt the first time he encountered vampires, stranded in the middle of the dessert, aware that something was stalking him, but not able to see what until they had surrounded him. He felt a sort of comfort in the dream though, because he was not alone. Who it was that accompanied him wasn't revealed, but it gave him a sense of confidence that he may not have had if he had been alone. Still, there was a degree of trepidation, and there was no sword, at least not that he could feel or see.

When Will woke, it was exactly dusk, as if he had developed an instinct for when it was time to rise. He had slept without interruption for the entire day and opened his eyes to the thought of Evangelos, and how he had told Will that all the abilities he had as a human would likely return to him in time, and that seemed to be the case with the dream Will had just had. It was clear to Will, not just from the dream, but also from the scars on the man's neck he had fed from that something was tracking him and he would be forced to face it sometime in the near future. He would have to wait until it found him though and remain vigilant till then. He didn't have time to waste trying to turn the tables, and he was eager to start his journey to Syria, which is all he knew of where to find Mount Hermon, a task made significantly easier by his new gift of flight.

Will climbed from under the boat and took stock of his surroundings. No sign or scent of vampires, but the sun was still another minute from fully dropping off. He wanted to try speaking with Lorelai before he left the island in hopes that she could help confirm that he was on the correct path. He gathered his bearings and headed to the road that would lead him to her.

He walked along, allowing his sight to fully sharpen as the sun completed setting, and examining the old abbey in the distance where the Book of Kells was said to have first been created. He was admiring how well preserved the medieval structure had been when he spotted her, standing atop the rocky hill a few dozen yards beyond the abbey. To a human, she would have been nothing more than a spec, unrecognizable, but Will spotted her movement and could see the shape of her almost as well as if she had been standing just across the road from him. She could see him too. In fact, she was stalking him it seemed, though she couldn't have been for long. The sun had disappeared only moments before. Will wanted to check his surroundings to ensure that he wasn't being ambushed, but he didn't trust taking his eyes off of her. She was too quick and might get the better of him if he didn't hold her position at all times.

She began descending the hill, her gaze fixated on Will, likely experiencing the same concern of losing him if she were to look away even for a moment. Unsure of how he wanted to handle the situation, he started walking toward her as well. If Alulim or any other vampires had been with her, they would have pounced on him by now, and either way, they had found him and he wasn't going to escape without a fight if their plan was to destroy him.

They slowly drew nearer and even in the rage he felt toward her for giving him up to Alulim and for killing Evangelos, he was taken in by her beauty and by the scent of the warmth between her thighs, which thickened with every step. They both stopped when they were roughly ten yards from each other, the abbey just off to their right.

"I am alone," Satiah said.

"I trust nothing you say."

"If I wasn't, you'd know it by now." Her hair rippled slightly in the gentle breeze.

"How did you find me?" Will said.

They were both speaking softly, careful not to draw the attention of any humans nearby. It was a small island and they would surely be recognized as outsiders and questioned if anyone were to spot them.

"I went back a few days later. I knew it would have been too late to save you, but I had to see for myself before I would accept that you were gone. The ground was still soaked in your blood, but the stakes had been tossed about and it was clear that you had been freed," she said.

"Does Alulim know that I am alive?"

Satiah shook her head. "I have not seen him since I left to find you."

"And he has not tracked you down?"

"I'm more mature and experienced at this than you give me credit for."

Will almost asked how she had found him, but realized he didn't care. He was more concerned with why she was doing it. "What do you want?" he said.

"You," she said.

Will had a vision of Evangelos etched in his memory. It was the moment just before Satiah took his head off. Will wanted to do the same to her, avenge the awful thing she had done, but he couldn't bring himself to harm her. He had thought about this moment a number of times in the days since they had last seen each other, and had assumed that the rage he felt would overtake him so that he wouldn't get caught up in his feelings for her, or the fact that she was a lady. True, she was a powerful vampire, but a female nonetheless, and the idea of striking her conflicted him. And he still wanted her too. As angered and hurt as he still was by the things she had done – the way she had wronged and humbled him – the urge to be physical with her was still overpowering. Standing just footsteps from her and not putting his hands on her, not kissing her face and neck, not caressing her backside, it felt unnatural. He hated that she had so much power over him. That she could show up, tell him she wants him, and he would just give into her. But it was like being under a spell. The way she tasted, the smell of her hair and skin, the way she moved and positioned her body, and the intense expressions she made in conversation with him, all of it made him want to be nowhere else. Suddenly the sword and all his other priorities were secondary to the story playing out between the two of them, and he was a loser regardless of the outcome. To reject her would be to punish himself, and to give into her would make him a fool.

"Everything you said the night you left was true and I should have listened," she said.

"Evangelos," he said.

She took a moment before responding, as if knowing that the outcome of their discussion rested solely on how she explained herself. "He would have killed me," she finally said. "He was somehow stronger than I anticipated and he would have killed me if I let him. But I know I put us in that situation by involving Alulim in the first place and I'm sorry for that."

Will wished he could read her thoughts to know for certain how genuine the words were, but the fact that she had come for him was fair confirmation, and there was also the man he had fed on just before sunrise.

"Did you feed on a middle-aged man in a farmhouse last evening?" he said.

Satiah nodded. "I did."

"You spared him."

"I am trying to change. I would like to change if that is what you want."

"It is not improbable to believe that we could live in harmony with humans. That we would take only what we need, and they willing allow it. That is how it once was," Will said.

Satiah crooked her neck and her brow furrowed.

"I've learned a great deal in the short time since we last spoke."

Satiah opened her mouth to say something, but before either of them could see it coming, an object slammed into Satiah, sending her airborne, all the way the across other side of the abbey. Will watched Satiah land and tumble several yards further, like a rag doll flung across the bed of a petulant child. Will turned back to where Satiah had been standing just a second before to see who or what had struck her. There Lorelai stood with fury in her eyes.

"Did she try to harm you?" she said to Will.

"No, no, not at all."

Before Will could explain any further, Satiah was on her feet and dashing back toward Lorelai to retaliate. Before Satiah could reach her, Lorelai levitated and blasted her with an orb of light. Satiah shielded her face with her arms and howled as the blast threw her back again.

Will hurried between them. "Stop," he said to Lorelai.

Lorelai paused, looking at him confused. With his back turned to her, Satiah hurdled over Will and came down upon Lorelai with a foot to her gut, then hit her with a fist across her cheek. Lorelai somersaulted back and as she climbed to her feet, Satiah was coming at her with another blow. Lorelai sidestepped it and spun her leg around, sweeping Satiah's legs from under her, but Satiah did a controlled flip and landed gracefully on her feet so that by the time Lorelai came back around to face her, Satiah caught her off guard, tackling her to the ground and going at her throat with her exposed fangs. Just before Satiah could bite into her, Lorelai opened her mouth and the high-pitched, ultrasonic noise that came from it caused Satiah to release her and press the palms of her hands into her ears. She tumbled off of Lorelai and tried to retreat from the sound. Will had been rushing toward them to break up the battle, but was also crippled by the sound. When Lorelai stopped, Will and Satiah were both on their knees still trying to block out the piercing reverberation.

"Stop it," Will said with a desperate grunt.

"She is spawn of the Nephilim, she cannot be trusted," Lorelai said.

Satiah climbed to her feet and hissed at Lorelai. "And what spawned you?" she said.

Will also stood. "Both of you, enough." He addressed Lorelai. "This is Satiah. For centuries she has been at Alulim's side, and now she has defied him and has chosen to stand with us."

"With you," Satiah said, "I have chosen to be here with you."

"She cannot be trusted," Lorelai said before Will could address Satiah's comment, "it is too great a risk."

"She could be of great help to me if I need to destroy Alulim before I am able to retrieve the sword."

Lorelai released another cry, which made Will and Satiah double over. It was brief and when the two vampires recovered from it, Lorelai stepped closer to Will.

"You are acting recklessly," she said.

Before Will could attempt to reason with her, they simultaneously spotted Satiah in their peripheral vision as she began to flee. Lorelai didn't hesitate, bolting after her and singing out some type of beautiful-yet-urgent sounding melody as she did so. Will followed suit, purposely trailing as he tried to determine whether he should be attempting to stop Satiah, or prevent Lorelai from attempting to destroy her. Before he could decide, his old friend the raven came swooping down at a speed he had never before seen a bird travel at, cawing and fluttering above Lorelai. Just as Satiah was about to reach the shoreline of the island, with Lorelai and Will trailing just several yards behind, someone suddenly appeared before her and blasted Satiah with an orb of light, sending her tumbling back toward the feet of Lorelai and Will, who had stopped in their tracks the moment they saw it happening. Will took notice of the creature that had done it. She very much resembled Lorelai in her beauty and physique, but was slightly smaller, yet her demeanor was somehow more physically intimidating. She came at Satiah and kicked her in the torso as she was attempting to climb to her feet, sending her airborne and tumbling another ten yards. Will was taken aback by how her strength seemed to at least match Satiah's.

Lorelai lifted her hand, motioning for her counterpart to cease, which she did. Satiah got to her feet and by the fire in her eyes it was apparent she wanted to retaliate, but she took stock of the situation – Lorelai to one side, her counterpart to the other – and thought better of it.

"You will not escape and you cannot defeat both of us," Lorelai said.

Satiah looked to Will, her eyes pleading with him to join her in battle against the other two. Meanwhile, the raven hovered above them all, silently watching the situation unfold. Will turned his eyes to Lorelai, who continued speaking.

"It is not our place to destroy you," she said to Satiah, "but you shall not leave this island."

Satiah turned her fierce gaze upon Lorelai. "Alulim will come for me, eventually. He will find me here and your powers will not be nearly as effective on him."

Lorelai eyed Will and gave a sly nod and Will understood what she was angling for – use Satiah as a diversion to lure Alulim to the island while Will captures the sword.

Satiah caught on to the gesture as well. "You cannot serve them, Will," she said. "You don't understand the repercussions of what they intend to have you do."

"So you know then?" Will said. "You've known the history of Alulim, the history of everything, and you told me nothing."

"Much like you, I can't say with complete certainty that I know all of it, but I know there is more to the story than what you have been told. It's not as simple as good versus evil, as Alulim has told you. And regardless of what you or I feel for Alulim right now, he has protected our kind for thousands of years. If you do as these Seraphim instruct, you will destroy us all," Satiah said, motioning to Lorelai and her counterpart as she referenced them.

"She speaks the truth," Lorelai said. "We aim to rid the earth of those who prey upon the innocent."

Satiah scoffed. "Innocent? The fact that humans were created in your Lord's likeness does not make them any more virtuous than the other beings who have roamed this land. They are just as imperfect, and have always been as cruel and as defiant of their Lord as the rest us, if not more so. They are simply favored because they are as He first made them – unevolved, unchanged, and biasedly beloved, even with all their imperfections – but we have just as much a right to walk upon, feed upon, fornicate upon, and bask in the light of this land as they do. Whether He likes it or not. And I'll thank you to remember that it was the humans who cast the first stone against the Nephilim when Alulim willingly left Eve for Lilith and accepted the gift of immortality that Lilith provided him, not the other way around, as I'm sure you would have Will believe."

Lorelai's partner took a step toward Satiah with a determined look, but Lorelai raised her hand again.

"No Emma," Lorelai said to her. "Let the fanged spawn spew her lies. The Parousia has been shown the truth and understands why he was sent here." She looked to Will and gave him an encouraging nod.

Will nodded back, though there was a slight hesitation. He had seen the wickedness of Alulim in the way he treated his prey and those who defied him, but Will had also experienced the innate evil in mankind firsthand, and Satiah's disparagement of the species was not entirely unwarranted. He was trying to make sense of it all when Satiah interrupted.

"Believe what you will," she said to him, "but consider whether you are ready to kill me for a cause you have only just begun to gain an understanding of, and to die for it yourself."

Will took a step toward her. "If you truly love me, then you will put your faith in me," he said.

Lorelai and Emma looked at each other with wide eyes. "Love?" Emma silently mouthed.

"I can destroy Alulim and all his army," Will continued, "and together you and I will repair the relationship between vampires and humans and live in harmony once again, as it once was. And when that is done, I will ask God that the curse of the sun be lifted from us."

Satiah looked at him as if he were speaking the thoughts of a madman. She shook her head, partly in disbelief, but mostly out of pity for him. "You know even less than I assumed." She took a step toward him, leaving just a couple of yards between them. "The power of the weapon you seek will destroy all vampires. Not simply the vampires the Messiah choses to slay with it, but all of them. That is the prophecy, and you, divine or not, are a vampire, Will."

Will turned his attention to Lorelai, his brow furrowed.

"It is the price the savior of mankind pays," Lorelai said with regret in her voice. "Just as the first Messiah sacrificed his own self to protect the children of this earth, so too must you. Complete extinction of the vampire breed is the only way to fully ensure that the humans are never endangered again, and that the Grigori are never freed. "

"Giving way to what the human's call a dictatorship," Satiah said to Lorelai before turning her attention back to Will. "Isn't preventing this type of tyranny and genocide part of the reason you went to fight in the war when you were human? This is no different."

"The Lord is not a tyrant for trying to preserve what he has created by protecting it from the fiends who selfishly aim to defile it," Emma said.

The echo of a dog's bark could be heard from somewhere on the island and they all glanced in its direction to be sure there weren't any humans nearby.

"The vampires are not without blame in this timeless war," Satiah said, "nor were our own makers, I concede that, but our punishment has been drastic, and as a result, our resentment has been great. I agree with Will though. All hope for vampires and humans to peacefully coexist on this land again is not lost."

"The Parousia must fulfill his prophecy, regardless of how you or I feel on the matter. It is the Lord's will," Lorelai said.

"And what of free will?" Satiah said.

"It doesn't apply here." The tone in Will's voice was very matter of fact, but he was offering the statement up to Lorelai in hopes she would contradict him. When she didn't, he grunted a sigh of frustration and threw his hands in the air with a defeated shake of his head.

"If you do this, we will never see each other again," Satiah said. "Not on this land and surely not in whatever place awaits me after."

Will sat down on the grassy knoll beneath him and stared off across the black sea around them, searching for a solution he wasn't confident existed. The rest stood silently around him, awaiting whatever epiphany might befall him. Only the raven made noise, giving another caw as it landed on a bushy yew tree nearby.

"I understand this is not easy for you, but time is a factor," Lorelai said after a few minutes of waiting.

Will ignored the comment for a few more moments, then finally spoke, his gaze still fixed on whatever lie beyond the shoreline. "What if we were to destroy Alulim without the sword? Then the sword would remain in safekeeping and the key threat to it would be eradicated."

"All vampires are–" Lorelai stopped herself, then began again. "The belief is that all vampires should be viewed as a threat. Both to the existence of mankind and to the protection of the sword."

Will looked up at her. "But if Satiah helps us destroy him and she and I work to repair relations with the humans, destroying all vampires who do not comply, would that not prove that there is no longer a threat?"

Lorelai did not reply, but the pity she looked down upon him with was answer enough.

"It is not for you to decide, I understand that," Will said.

"We are gatekeepers," Lorelai said, motioning toward Emma. "We protect the path to the sword until the Messiah is poised to claim it. We have done that job for thousands of years, but the path has been opened to you and it is not for us to dictate how you travel it. The Lord sent you here, and it is He you will have to answer to in time."

Lorelai barely completed the final word when her attention locked onto something, her head jerking upward. Her senses were fixated on something, concentrating the way a person would if they thought they heard a noise in their home during the night.

Emma immediately took notice and her eyes widened with alarm as she too tried to detect whatever had heightened Lorelai's awareness.

Will began to ask what was happening, but Emma quickly shushed him.

The raven took flight, squawking as though it had been injured. Will and Satiah looked at one another inquisitively just before Satiah smelled something and turned her nose to the sky and sniffed to confirm it. Before Will could ask, he smelled it too.

"Vampire," Lorelai said.

Before the rest could react, Will was struck with such force that he went into the ocean and skipped across the surface like a stone flung by a child, and was submerged about thirty yards out. Will burst out of the water, but before he could get hold of his bearings, the vampire collided with him again, this time taking hold of Will, and as they rocketed back to the island, the vampire threw Will back down next to Satiah. The impact was so great that it left a crater in the soil and disoriented Will. The mysterious vampire circled back again and touched down upon a mound of stone and earth just far enough away from the others that he could react if there was an effort to attack him. He was a hulking being, slightly taller than Will and with at least twenty pounds on him. His beard was dark, thick, and long, matching the hair that fell from his head and covered his shoulders.

Satiah could feel Emma looking at her and she returned her gaze.

"I have not seen this vampire before," Satiah said.

The reaction on Emma's face was grave.

"Who are you?" Lorelai said to the vampire.

The vampire spoke in a language Will had never before heard. Whatever he said was brief and sounded to Will more like grunting than speech. Will climbed to his feet and Satiah leaned down to assist. Before Will could ask her whether she knew what the vampire had said, he spoke again, his gaze fixated on Satiah. More grunts, but angrier and aggressive sounding. While the vampire was distracted, Lorelai blasted him with an orb of light. It knocked him back stumbling, but he shook it off and hissed at her as he stepped forward again. Emma then took a turn and Satiah went in for the attack before the vampire could shake off her blast. Satiah got in one blow to the face before the vampire recovered and clamped his oversized hand onto her throat. He grumbled something at her before tossing her body back at Will, who was preparing to come at the vampire himself. Will caught her and placed her down with the intention of retaliating, but Satiah pressed her hand against his chest.

"Together," she said.

"She is right," Lorelai said. "There is no sense in risking defeat alone. Combined, the four of us can easily defeat him."

The four of them began to spread out around the vampire. The vampire moaned and more grunts came from him. Suddenly the raven plummeted onto the vampire's head, grasping thick bunches of his hair in its talons and ripping the black locks from his scalp as it immediately took flight again. The vampire leapt at and caught the bird in his right hand as he barked out in pain, flashing his imposing incisors. The raven made no effort to free itself and the vampire examined it with clenched teeth, clearly wanting to squeeze the bird until its head popped off, but instead threw it back into the air with a grumble.

"Close in on him," Lorelai said.

Before they could, the vampire shot into the night sky and flew out of sight.

"We should go after him," Will said.

"It may be an entrapment," Lorelai said. "I suggest composing ourselves first."

"Who is he?" Will said, searching each of their faces for an answer.

Lorelai spoke first. "He said his name is Jushur."

"He is older and more powerful than I am, yet I have never known of him until now," Satiah said.

"How could that be?" Will said.

"She is either lying to us, or there is great trouble ahead," Emma said.

"I am not lying." Satiah turned to Will. "It is as I said. Alulim hides many secrets from me, I am sure."

"Alulim may have grown suspicious and has therefore raised his army from the Dead Sea in preparation for battle, which I fear is the most likely scenario given that vampire's age and the language he spoke."

"What the hell language was that anyway? It's like nothing I've ever heard," Will said.

"Sumerian. It is an ancient dialect that predates me by centuries." Satiah's eyes looked downward as she spoke, still trying to make sense of the situation. "There is evidence of a Sumerian king by the name of Jushur, but little is known about his rule or what became of him."

"He's a bloody fucking vampire, that's what became of him apparently. What did he say to you?"

Satiah looked up at Will, but was hesitant to answer.

"He said their maker, Alulim, sent him to find her," Lorelai said, "and he will be very displeased when he learns of her betrayal." Lorelai was going to say something else, but stopped when Satiah looked at her with an ominous stare.

"What is it?" Will said.

"It doesn't translate well," Emma said without hesitation, "but he told her that Alulim is going to grant her to him as a reward once he rips Will's head from his body."

"He conveyed quite a bit through a few angry grunts then, didn't he?" Will said.

"Again, it's a lose translation. The vocabulary was limited then."

"The message was very clear though," Satiah said.

Will shrugged. "Well it's not going to happen like that. We just need to cut the beast off at the neck, which in this case would be Alulim."

"And you think Jushur will simply bow to your command if that happens?" Satiah said.

"I certainly believe he'll think twice about not bowing if we can take down the most powerful vampire on earth."

"You will not be able to defeat Alulim and his army without the sword," Lorelai said.

"We've already discussed tha –"

"She's right," Satiah said, cutting Will off. "They are too powerful."

Will turned himself to face her. "What about everything you said before about the extinction of vampires and what might await you afterward?"

"I still believe that, but whatever awaits me after cannot be worse than being enslaved to and defiled by a vampire like Jushur."

"And there are likely dozens more from the army of the Dead Sea who are not unlike him," Emma said.

Will rubbed his hand across his face. "But are they all as heinous as Jushur? Aren't these many of the same vampires who once lived peacefully on earth?"

"It is likely, but after being driven into confinement and kept there for many thousands of years, I imagine they are all as hostile and as vengeful as Jushur," Lorelai said.

Will made his way toward the shore, needing a moment to himself to think over their options.

"Time is of the essence. Now that they know where both of you are, Alulim will likely send a group to retrieve you," Lorelai said.

Will drowned out the comment. He sat on a rock and took in the smell of the island. The ocean breeze was heavy with seaweed and it nearly overpowered the varied hints of blood wafting across the island. He thought of how he would miss that smell if it didn't exist wherever he was going after his time on earth, but he also wondered how much he would enjoy it if it meant that he would be confined to experiencing the majesty of the ocean only in darkness. It would wear on him in time, and he wondered how Satiah had done it for so long. Perhaps having grown up in a desert land prevented her from understanding what she was missing out on, but the sunlight alone on any land is something to be missed. These thoughts made Will consider how much pleasure he would find in being able to show Satiah her first sunrise on a beach. Even if he could never do that though, a life without the sun was still worth living in if he could be with Satiah. For all her faults, all her past wickedness, he adored her, which brought him back to square one of finding an option to defeat Alulim and his army without using the sword.

One of the women several yards behind him spoke and he heard them, but the words didn't register. The only word that stuck was Alulim's name. Alulim, the crux of the dilemma. He thought about this, about what it would take to stop Alulim. He was a few minutes into exploring this question when Satiah touched his shoulder. He looked up at her.

"The Seraphim are correct, we must move on," she said. "We have no idea how near or far the other vampires are."

Will stood enthusiastically with a sudden look of enlightenment on his face.

"What is it?" Satiah said.

"Tell me, what does Alulim want out of all this?"

"To free the Grigori," Emma said from a distance.

"Even more than that. What is the primary reason he wants the Grigori freed?"

Satiah considered the question, but Lorelai beat her to it.

"Agrimus."

"Exactly."

"But only the Grigori can resurrect him," Satiah said.

Will shrugged. "Or maybe there's another way."

Satiah's gaze turned curious.

"Alulim told me about your gift," Will continued. "The Heka."

Satiah had begun shaking off the idea before Will could even get his final word out. "I haven't practiced in a very long time, I don't even know whether I still –"

"Those are ancient practices that should remain so, and for very good reason," Lorelai interrupted.

Will disregarded the comment. "Whatever abilities we had as humans always return to us," he said to Satiah.

"Even so, the body is no condition. It must be exceptionally well preserved."

"It is. I've seen it myself."

"It is decapitated," Satiah said. "That is the worst possible scenario. The idea of resurrecting a being without a head is nonsensical, and don't you think Alulim would have made this same request of me had he thought I could be of assistance?"

"He would have, had he considered my ability to heal the wound first."

Satiah took a moment to digest the words.

"The odds of this working are heavily weighted against you," Lorelai said, "but even attempting such a thing could have dangerous consequences."

"It's the best option available to us and we at least need to explore it," Will said.

"You are abusing your abilities. Gifts entrusted to you by a power far greater than us," Emma said.

"Are you even sure you can heal a wound of the deceased?" Satiah said to Will. "I think it's highly unlikely, especially such a severe one"

"I've done it," Will said. "Just after you and Alulim left me for dead. I needed to feed and I came upon a farmhouse with a single woman inside. She invited me in and I was ravenous. Once I took her blood I couldn't stop myself. I drank the life from her and when I was done, I tried to fix it, I tried to heal her, but it only partly worked. The large wounds I had left on her neck healed, but her life did not return. She was dead and I was able to heal her body, but not her spirit."

"It's still a big uncertainty. Healing the flesh of someone who has been expired only minutes may be entirely different than attempting it on a centuries-old corpse."

"Perhaps, but I don't think so, and either way, it's worth proposing to Alulim."

Lorelai stepped toward them. "There is a reason you do not have the gift of resurrection. It is not the Lord's will. Methuselah slayed Agrimus and it is not prophesized that he should rise again."

"Prophesy," Will said with a shake of his head and a sneer. "I can't make decisions at this point based around a plan that has already fallen apart."

"It has only fallen apart if you chose to let it," Lorelai said.

"You yourself said that my being turned by Alulim was not prophesized. Things change, even in God's plan it seems, and not everything goes the way He intended it, as we know from the story of the fallen angels. So perhaps what happened to me has opened a new door to us, a door the Lord had not foreseen, but one that now gives us the chance to provide Alulim with what he truly wants without more violence and without releasing and compromising the power of the sword."

No response came from Lorelai's expressionless face.

"I don't mean to vent at you," Will continued, "but it seems that so much of what we do is based around what we think God wants, with no certainty or confirmation, even when it seems clear that He has provided the opportunity for us to choose a potentially better option." Will paused and it took him a few moments to formulate an example that would put some context to his argument. "People of faith spend their days concerned with conducting themselves based on words written in a book thousands of years ago by other people who believed they knew what God wanted of them. One of the commandments in that book is Thou Shalt Not Kill, yet I went off to fight in a violent war because of a premonition I'm very confident came from God. My point being that I think sometimes God throws us signs that steer us in an unforeseen direction and we can't ignore them due to preconceived notions of what God wants."

"And what if your plan is successful?" Satiah said. "What if you are able to use your divine powers to heal Agrimus and I am able to awaken him? Even if Alulim makes peace with us in return, which I believe is unlikely, what happens then? Do we kindly ask the other vampires to stop killing humans and just hope that God lifts the curse on us and never sends another Messiah to destroy us?"

The raven returned to the yew tree and cawed at Lorelai. She stared at the bird, then looked back at Will, but said nothing.

"What is it?" Will said.

Lorelai glanced at Satiah, hesitant to speak.

"You don't have to worry about me," Satiah said, "I already know how the Archangels travel and observe us."

"What else do you know of them?" Lorelai said.

"What else is there to know?"

Lorelai met Will's attention again. "The Archangels believe the sword is the only way."

Will examined the raven before replying to her. "The bird told you this?"

"In a manner of speaking."

Will walked toward the yew tree and looked up at the raven. "Talk to me!" he said. "Tell me what I need to do. Tell me why there is not a better way than to wipe all of us out."

The raven lowered its beak and stared back at Will the way a wise, elderly man would stare down condescendingly at a disobedient child. After several moments of silence, Will began walking toward the east shore of the island.

"I'm heading back to Matmata," Will said. He briefly turned back to Satiah without slowing his stride. "It's our only hope of being together at this point."

"You need to set your emotions aside and have faith in the Lord's plan," Lorelai said.

Will gave no reply. Satiah's eyes moved questioningly between Lorelai and Emma.

"We must remain here," Lorelai said to her, "but if he is going, he should not go alone."

Satiah dashed to catch up to Will.

# 29

The vampires that had emerged after hibernating for thousands of years in the caves hidden three hundred yards beneath the surface of the Dead Sea were as pallid and wrinkled as the drowned carcass of a dead possum, but the extreme salinity of its waters had kept them well preserved, and once they had been blood-fed thoroughly in a nearby village and had been on dry desert land for several hours, they appeared as youthful as the night they had last walked the earth. There were twenty-seven of them in total, and they drank the blood of humans the way a man stranded for a week in the desert would drink the water from a gushing hose. Some were uncertain of the predatory approach at first. Prior to taking refuge from Methuselah, many of the vampires had still been living in harmony with the humans, just as Alulim had once preached at them to do, and so the experience of slaughtering their hosts and being urged on by Alulim to do so without repentance was jarring, but the people they were feeding on were foreign to them; they were not the familiar faces the vampires had once reveled with. Those faces had been long deceased and were not familiar to the distant human descendants who now roamed the same lands.

Some of the vampires looked upon the changed lands with great regret for not having turned the humans they had once befriended and loved, and now missed. Prior to their retreat into the Dead Sea, a few had taken humans as willing lovers and had discussed turning them into vampires so that they could live together on the earth for eternity as monogamous companions, but that was before the scourge, before Methuselah had commanded their human partners to take shelter and brought the wrath of God upon non-humans. Nothing remained of that world; the new world they ascended to was not the same as the one they had abandoned so many years before. The open dessert lands, the mountains, and the sea were familiar to them, but only as a backdrop to a stage with a heavily modified set design, an unpleasant one prepared for a grim third act.

The smell of the night air was not as clear and fresh as they had remembered it and it left the foreign taste of arsenic on their tongues. Much of the landscape had been altered by modern and what they found to be unappealing structures. The areas where humans resided had a more dense population, which was nice for feeding, but it was clear to them that the humans were not as kind and familiar to one another as the humans had once been. And there were the machines – the ones the humans traveled in – loud and frightening.

The humans' detachment from one another, even as they bustled along the same road, and their general lack of concern for anyone but themselves made preying on them easier for the vampires, both the physical task of assailing them without drawing attention, and the emotional conflict of doing so without care for their permission or their lives. These were not the breed of humans they had parted with so many lifetimes ago, nor was it the type of civilization the Lord had envisioned the humans creating for themselves, the ancient vampires remembered that much. If the word karma existed in their native tongue, the ancient vampires likely would have used it to label what they were witnessing.

They fed throughout their entire first night on land, and Alulim fed with them, familiarizing them with the ways of modern humans and finally surrounding an entire village and making curious noises in order to lure the families outside to investigate, then snatching them one by one and covertly retreating into the desert night with their victims. Adolescent children often came out first to explore the strange sounds, and when they did not return, the parents would soon come looking, and when they were taken, the youngest children eventually came too, hoping to locate their suddenly absent family. The members of all the homes were each abducted by any one of the twenty-nine vampires, which included Alulim and a recently-turned progeny of his. The vampires would drink them dry, leave them for the vultures, and return to the village for another. They fed till all but the immobile, crying infants inside the homes had been devoured, and Jushur had been the greediest, consuming the blood of four women, two men, and three children of varying size and age.

Well-nourished, the vampires fled to the caves hidden amongst the mountains just before sunrise, where they rested for the day. Come nightfall, Alulim instructed Jushur to travel northwest and scour the Celtic holy lands in search of Satiah, who he suspected had betrayed him and would be traveling with the divine vampire named Will. He explained the arrival of the Parousia and his time as a vampire, and told Jushur of his concern that Will had survived his crucifixion. If he was alive, Alulim expounded, he'd be amongst the Celtic Islands, and was a grave threat to them and their people if Satiah or anyone else were to tell him of Methuselah's sword; however, the situation also presented a great opportunity for them to find Will before he retrieved the sword, and intercept it so that they could free the Grigori and enter the great Kingdom of the Heavens.

Jushur had been the first human Alulim turned to a vampire. It happened under the insistence of Lilith, who foresaw the battle for the Heavens and the Earth approaching and knew the mighty king would make for a formidable vampire. Jushur recalled the years leading up to the scourge, when certain humans and vampires, at the urging of the greater powers, began to draw battle lines – the humans and their large armies beheading the most genteel and trusting of vampires, and the other vampires growing more voracious toward the humans, turning the ones who attracted them most and leaving the others for dead then they wanted to feed. Jushur witnessed the battle of the Grigori and the Archangels, when the Archangels unexpectedly returned to the Earth and took down the Grigori with surprising might and ease, binding even the most powerful of the Grigori, Samyaza and Azazel, and disappearing them from the Earth simply by directing their large, dark eyes, and their long, gangly fingers at the foes who had once been their brethren. And then Methuselah, Alulim's own descendent, slaying Lilith's people, the Nephilim, using a sword that yielded power unlike any weapon Jushur had ever seen – the power of the Archangels he recalled thinking. Then Alulim and Agrimus gathering and herding the vampires and Nephilim away from the great mountain and toward the sea they had once shared in peace with the humans, bathing and swimming in it, only to find many of those same humans standing at the shores of the sea when they arrived, prepared for battle with the vampires. The vampires and the small group of Nephilim had been outnumbered by the hundreds, but their strength and speed helped to even the balance. Much human and vampire blood had been spilled in those hours, but there was no drinking of the humans' blood, only death as the vampires fought for their survival, and the soil beneath them was given all of the blood to drink. Not all the humans and vampires had come for war though. Dozens on either side pleaded for the violence to stop. "This is all our land to share," many cried out repeatedly in their native tongues, and the humans and vampires who loved one another and had shared beds and blood and good memories grasped onto one another and even tried to flee together, but were either torn apart and made to stand with their own kind, or were slayed, sometimes both at once, while others were forced to witness the slaughter of their beloved human or vampire mate right in front of them, then kneeling over them, crying and cursing all of the Watchers – the Grigori and the Archangels.

The one saving grace, if any, had been the inability of the humans and vampires to conceive offspring, and therefore, no children had borne witness to the fatal tearing of flesh and the resulting horrific screams. And throughout it there was Alulim, Lilith, and Agrimus, urging the vampires and Nephilim to abandon the battle and their dead loved ones, and to enter the sea and go as deep as it would take them.

Jushur had stayed, the past king in him not wanting to concede the land that was his as much as it was anyone else's, if not more so, given his strength. But even he had to retreat when it became clear that Methuselah would not cease until all non-humans had been vanquished from the Earth. It was Jushur who then traveled to the caves at the bottom of what became known as the Sea of the Dead, and eventually just the Dead Sea, to inform Alulim and Agrimus of the unrelenting eradication of their kinds. Alulim had pleaded with Agrimus not to confront Methuselah, but Agrimus would not accept the existence they had been relegated to, and so he went. Jushur recalled the jubilation when Agrimus returned with news of a truce, as well as the anguish when none of the Nephilim returned. But Samyaza had prepared Alulim for the risk of such an event just before his banishment to Tartarus. Unfortunately for Jushur and the other vampires, it had meant many days, years, and lifetimes in bleak hibernation until the day Alulim would be able to locate the key to their salvation.

Jushur understood that the day of salvation was nearly upon them, and as Alulim educated him on what lie ahead, he determined that he would never again spend his days as a prisoner beneath the lands he once ruled. Age had made him even stronger than when he had last done battle, and he would do everything required to see that he once again ruled alongside Alulim.

Before Jushur went on his hunt for Satiah and the Parousia, Alulim commanded that he not rest until he located them, and he explained to Jushur of the limited, yet cunning abilities of the once-mighty Archangels. Though the Grigori were not presently on the Earth to protect the vampires, the Archangels' power to bring harm to them had been relinquished after the scourge and now existed solely in the Sword of Methuselah. The Archangels did, however, have the ability to possess them – to enter a vampire as its soul and take control of all that the vampire does – but only if the vampire were to eradicate the Archangel from the soul of another creature first. The creature the Archangels seemed to prefer best, Alulim further explained to Jushur, was a dark and skillful bird with a long and powerful beak, known in modern times as a raven. Alulim had seen the phenomenon just once, in the early eleventh century after a young progeny of his killed a raven that had attacked him. At the time, Alulim had been in search of a sacred book and the secrets hidden within it, rumored to have been created and kept in the Celtic holy lands. Alulim had painstakingly stalked and eventually turned a high member of the Lord's church into a vampire in an effort to gain information on the book he sought. The progeny's name was Celestinus and he had been in the very early days of his vampire evolution and still learning to hunt and feed on the night the raven came at him. It happened so quickly that even Alulim was caught off guard by it. The raven had dove into Celestinus' face, talons first, stabbing its rear claws into his eyes and clamping onto his brow. Celestinus pulled the bird off and ripped the head from its body. When it happened, a light emanated from the carcass. It was so bright that it blinded Alulim for a moment, and when it was over, Celestinus appeared to be unharmed. Even his eyes that had been clawed were unscathed, and the corpse of the bird lay in pieces at his feet. Alulim had not thought much of it until the days ahead when Celestinus became withdrawn from him, no longer willing to share information on the church as Alulim instructed, and he lost his desire to drink blood and to sleep, yet he was not weakened by being deprived of these things.

One night, as Alulim was out hunting alone, he heard a faint noise behind him and caught wind of another vampire nearby. When he turned, Celestinus was coming at him with a sword raised. Alulim caught him and tore the sword from him. As he held Celestinus pinned against the ground by the throat, he asked him why he would do such a thing. Celestinus replied that he was not sure and that at some point in the past days, a sudden distrust for Alulim had developed into a pure disdain, and finally into a desire to destroy him, like a virus he could not understand or rid himself of. Alulim had no choice but to take his head off, and when he did, that same bright light emanated from Celestinus' carcass, just as it had the raven, and for the briefest of moments, Alulim caught sight of what he was sure was one of the Archangels – the silhouette of its slender frame and large cranium. Alulim leapt at it on instinct, but it was gone in a flash and Alulim crashed onto the ground.

Since that time, Alulim always instructed his progeny to harm or entrap ravens when necessary, but never to kill them, and when Jushur confirmed that he understood this, Alulim moved on from the topic. He told Jushur that he and his new progeny needed to travel west, across the Mediterranean Sea, to another desert in order to retrieve someone very important. When they returned, he continued, they would ascend with the other vampires to the crest of Mount Hermon, where, if they were able to gain possession of the sword, they would reunite with the Grigori before the Grigori were to take Heaven.

"So it will be done," Jushur grunted in his native tongue, and they parted ways.

The Archangels – Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, and Raphael – stood upon the holy mountain looking down across the vast desert land and watching the powerful vampires conspire. Watching, as they had always been intended to do, since the days just after creation, when their Lord had sent them to ensure that their work continued forth in his vision. That was before they and their former allies became divided. Together, they had once enjoyed many wondrous things, but then came the humans. Beautiful creatures, and not unlike them in their fundamental physique – arms, legs, fingers, toes, neck, head, face, and genitalia – but with added, pleasing features, especially the females. What exactly was so alluring about them was not understood, but it was a chore to resist them. No two humans appeared the same and that was exciting. Even the ones who were similar were not exactly alike – a slight variation of curvature, or of skin tone, or eye and hair color. Their eyes and their soft hair were certainly part of the appeal. The Watchers had only seen hair and colored eyes like that in certain animals, and that's all the humans were to them at first – animals learning and cultivating the Earth, but their form and intelligence was much more akin to the Watchers than that of the other creatures on Earth. The humans communicated much like the animals, by mouth and through sounds that were developed over time into their own languages, and through those same mouths, the humans consumed food and drink, performed carnal acts, and made shapes of their faces depending on the emotions they were feeling. When the mouth curved upward and their teeth shown and their eyes widened, that meant the human was enjoying something, and the Watchers liked when the females looked that way. More than that though, it was the sight and feel of the humans' flesh that was of greatest interest to them. No animal nor Watcher felt or looked quite like that – the way the female humans shifted their rounded hips as they stood in place, and the fluid way their shoulders and torsos swayed when they walked, their long muscular legs stretching forward with each step – they moved in a way that was uncommon to what the Watchers had ever known. And most enticing of all was the plump bosom that yearned to be suckled, the soft backside that seemed to invite them to clench it, and the warmth between their thighs just waiting to be tasted and pressed up against upon invitation.

From the same mountain they stood upon studying Alulim and Jushur, they had once watched a young Alulim fulfill these desires with his mate, Eve. The male humans who followed also took to carnal activity with females. The Watchers, all of them, became envious of the male humans and so the Lord commanded Alulim to cease fornicating and to instruct all others to do the same, but the males could not stop, and the females enjoyed the acts as well. It wasn't as it had been with the other creatures of Earth, purely for the sake of procreation; for the humans, the act had become something much more, and in fact the opposite. Pleasure had become the intent, and reproduction a byproduct rather than the purpose. In the female human, the Lord had created a beauty so great that it was irresistible, not only to humans, but to the Watchers as well. Most female humans preferred other humans – males and sometimes other females – and they had little interest in lying down with the Watchers. The few Watchers who disregarded the female's refusal of their advances and tried to force themselves upon them were cast out by the other Watchers and banished to Tartarus by their Lord. But then there had been Istahar, who Samyaza found to be the greatest beauty of all female humans, and who was intrigued by the Watchers' unearthly powers and their enigmatic appearance. She agreed to be with him and in exchange, Samyaza promised her that she would one day ascend to the Heavens, a promise none of the Watchers were able to actually fulfill, yet many Watchers followed Samyaza's example, making the same promise to other female humans who would allow them to engage in carnal activity, and many of the female humans who did so wound up with child and gave birth to hybrid offspring called Nephilim.

Their Lord condemned the acts, as well as the production of the Nephilim, who were not of his intended creation and who he suspected to be a threat to the humans. Samyaza was instructed to rid the Earth of all the Nephilim, but again he ignored his Lord's wishes and continued to fill Istahar with his seed. He begged the Lord's forgiveness, for he did not have the will to control his desire for Istahar, and he had grown to love the daughter, Lilith, who he had created with her. So the Lord instructed the Watcher named Michael, who was still very much in His good graces, to tell Istahar that she and the other females who had lied down with Watchers were barred from Heaven, and explain that the only way to undo this was to stop pleasing His Watchers and repent for their prior actions. Istahar did as instructed, much to the Lord's satisfaction, and many of the other female humans heeded the warning as well, and so the unrepairable rift between Michael and Samyaza was made.

Samyaza begged Istahar for her affections, and when she shunned him and told him why, he had tried to kill Michael, his fellow watcher – the greatest sin a Watcher could perform – so the Lord banished Samyaza and the other Watchers who had defied his order from entering the Heavens as they pleased, and the Watchers disbanded. Those still in the Lord's good graces, the ones who hadn't participated in hedonistic acts with the humans, became known as the Archangels, and the others were labeled as the Grigori.

Though he had never acted on it, Michael had great affection for Eve, much the same as Samyaza felt about Istahar, and Samyaza knew this. By this time, Lilith had grown and developed into a great and unique beauty – long and slender like the Grigori, but with the plump bosom and posterior of the female humans, and her eyes were larger and more almond shaped than the humans', much like that of the Grigori, but the definition and color of them was that of her mother, Istahar, which were a sapphire blue – and Samyaza instructed his exquisite daughter to direct her affections toward Eve's mate, Alulim. Recognizing the desire for Lilith on Alulim's face when Istahar made her advances, Eve swiftly interjected, attempting to physically force Lilith from their idyllic settlement, cursing Samyaza and the other Grigori as she did so. The struggle between the two turned violent and Lilith sank her fangs into Eve. Lilith admitted she meant to wound her, like a rattlesnake defending itself, but claimed she had not intended to puncture her carotid. Eve's body fell limp as her panicked hands pressed at the spot where crimson blood spewed from. Lilith further claimed that her intent was to slow the deluge when she put her mouth over Eve's throat, but that the flow was too rapid and the taste too delicious to stop. When the Archangels descended from their mountain, Alulim was kneeling over Eve's lifeless body and Lilith had stood over them with what appeared to be a look of indifference on her face.

Michael, in his despair over Eve, banished Lilith to the unsettled desert, away from the humans, to live as an outcast and to starve of their blood. Samyaza attempted a truce shortly after, but Michael rejected it, and so Samyaza taught the Nephilim the act of war and instructed them to feed on the humans at will, and he granted Lilith the power to resurrect Alulim once she drained him of his human blood, allowing him to live in the likeness of the Nephilim. And so the first true vampire – an undead human, resurrected with the superhuman abilities of the Nephilim – was created.

In the years following, the Grigori and the Archangels remained at odds, and the relationship between the humans and the non-humans was varied. Alulim had remained devoted to the Lord and preached peace amongst the Nephilim and the humans, but as his son Agrimus grew older, he began to abuse his power over the humans and took pleasure in the ability he had inherited from his parents to turn the humans into undead creates like his father. He enjoyed drinking their blood, but even more than that, he enjoyed turning the humans who had winced at his demon-like appearance – his clawed hands and feet, and his wicked face – into worshiping progenies and playmates. The snares and snickers of the humans, pets of the Archangels who had exiled his mother, infuriated him, and even at the behest of his father whom he cherished, Agrimus could not resist masticating them. Until finally the Archangels delivered a final warning to Samyaza and Alulim – one more act of malice by Agrimus against the fearful humans and they would appeal to their Lord to take harsh measures in order to make the Earth safe for the humans, as it had once been. Alulim humbly requested that the Archangels allow Lilith to return to the sacred lands she had been banished from as an act of reconciliation, which he believed would quell Agrimus' distain for the humans and the Archangels, but the Archangels rebuffed the proposal. This infuriated Samyaza who cursed the Archangels and dammed their Lord, calling him out by his true and Ineffable Name.

The Archangels ascended into Heaven to confer with their Lord, who had grown tired of Samyaza's continued defiance. He granted the Archangels His ability to banish the Grigori to Tartarus, an act He had promised the Watchers many lifetimes ago that only He would have the ability to carry out, and never against the Watchers without fair judgment, but Samyaza's sins had grown too great. Once done, the Archangels were to bring His most devout human servant, Enoch, to Him. The Lord instructed Enoch to inform his warrior son, Methuselah, of his part in ridding the Earth of the wicked Nephilim. Enoch did so and the Lord provided the Archangels with a weapon for Methuselah to carry out His work – a sword with the Lord's Ineffable Name inscribed on its blade, yielding a light with the power to eradicate the spawn of the Grigori. As for His once-beloved Alulim and the other undead creatures who had fed on His humans, the Lord cursed the sunlight so that it should burn any brought back to life on Earth without His doing.

When all this was complete, the Archangels used the remainder of their divine powers of defense to bestow chosen humans with the gift of immortality and the everlasting power to protect and serve as gatekeepers of the path to the sword; for just as the sword possessed the power to do the Lord's work for Methuselah, it in turn possessed the power to undo His work if fallen into the hands of someone who wished to do so. These gatekeepers became known as the Seraphim.

The Archangels, their lanky, celestial bodies standing atop Mount Hermon as they craned their long necks over its ridge with their large, telescopic eyes to watch Alulim and Jushur conspiring and eventually parting ways, reminisced on all the history that had brought them to their current juncture, communicating with one another without the need for spoken words. For thousands of years the Heavens and the Earth had withstood the threat of Alulim, even as he had grown more powerful with each passing century, but the time had come to put a permanent end to him before he became so knowledgeable and powerful that even the Seraphim would be forced to bend to his will. The Archangel Michael had been on the Island of Iona earlier in the evening and had heard Will speak of his plan to resurrect Agrimus as a peace offering to Alulim, and the Archangels all agreed that they needed to find a way to deter him from that plan and instead retrieve the Sword of Methuselah as he had been destined to do.

# 30

Will and Satiah entered Alulim's troglodyte home in Matmata just a few hours before sunrise, and Will was relieved by how much faster and convenient travel between continents was with the ability of flight. He understood how much easier it had made tracking him for Satiah and Alulim.

Though it had only been weeks since Will had been in the underground house where he had spent his first days as a vampire, so much had transpired since then that it felt long ago. Perhaps it was different for other vampires when they were turned because the learning period was much more extensive. Will's abilities had developed and evolved more quickly than typical and the task of learning how to be a vampire had been quickly deprioritized in lieu of more pressing matters. The days of sleeping in the casket, discovering Agrimus' tomb, destroying Gus, and even touching Satiah for the first time seemed like a distant memory. He recalled having the same sentiment upon his return home to Clare.

The underground home was quiet and the repaired wall leading to the tomb still intact. The smell of damp earth deep under the desert sands remained though, and Will thought that Alulim deserved credit for finding such an ideal place for a vampire to call home. He walked to the spot the sheik had repaired for him and stood before it, still impressed by the work he had done under such stressful and constrained conditions.

"Behind there?" Satiah said, standing beside Will.

Will didn't need words to confirm it for her. He simply picked up one of the small wooden chairs from the table behind them and put it through the wall, creating a hole large enough to crawl through.

"All these years," Satiah said with a gentle shake of her head.

"So you didn't know about Agrimus?" Will said.

She gave a stronger shake of her head. "Perhaps he thought I'd view his devotion to his child as a weakness." She shrugged. "I don't know."

Will crouched to his knees. "I'm going in."

Satiah placed the chair Will had used as a battering ram upright and sat in it, leaning forward and glaring into the hole Will had burrowed through.

Once inside the compact space where Agrimus' corpse rest, Will remembered how surprised he had been the first time by the how well the body had been mummified and preserved. There was no odor of decay, just the smell of dusty sandstone from Will's own disruption of the ground beneath his knees and forearms. The only difference this time around was the faint scent of Satiah.

He had done a respectable job of reattaching Agrimus' head with ancient linen last time, but he knew it wouldn't be enough to keep it attached as he dragged the body out. Will pulled Agrimus by the shoulders and as he backed out and dragged the body with him, Agrimus' head twisted out and the right ear lay pressed against the shoulder. Will lifted the torso slightly, being careful not to scoop sand into the severed neck. Though it had scabbed over, Will had never healed a being who'd been dead for so long, never mind attempting to reattach a head to a body, and he didn't want any foreign objects interfering with the melding of it.

As he continued to drag the corpse, he heard a noise from the other side of the hole behind him. It sounded as if someone had shushed him. "Am I being loud or something?" he said.

Satiah did not reply.

Will waited another moment. "Satiah?" he finally said.

Nothing.

He made the assumption she had stepped outside to survey the landscape and must have made a noise on her way out that he had mistook for a shushing. He continued on with his chore, backing himself out of the hole and taking great care to lift the lifeless head out after him along with the body.

"I appreciate your great caution with my son, but soon you are going to wish you had never disturbed him," a voice said from the direction of the doorway.

When Will looked up, it was not Alulim he was surprised to see, or even that Alulim was resting one of his long-nailed hands on top of Satiah's head as though she were a pet being pacified. It was the person who stood beside Alulim who most alarmed Will.

"Auntie Aisling?" Will said in a barely audible tone.

Aisling and Alulim both smiled at him and Will wished in that moment that the scenario had been different. He wished that Alulim had brought his aunt as a hostage – a human hostage who he would threaten to devour should Will not comply with his demands – but instead it was he and Satiah who were the hostages; hostages of Alulim and his new vampire progeny.

Alulim stroked Aisling's short, curled hair. "I couldn't bear to take the life of such a special child without bringing her back to serve me. The ability to see creatures that are not of this Earth is such a rare thing."

Will glanced at Satiah as though she might be able to provide some level of clarification, but all he found was a look of defeat. Once again, a rush of adoration for her came over him and all he wanted was to be with her, free of all the threats and the prophecies, and everything that came before them. When he returned his gaze to Alulim though, the idea of entering into a truce and of returning a family member to the vampire who had been responsible for the slaughter of his own family incensed him. In that moment, the notion of annihilating all vampires, including himself and Satiah, in order to achieve vengeance upon Alulim didn't seem as drastic as it had earlier in the evening. Will considered a happy medium, one that would both free Satiah of Alulim's rule and would avenge the death of Will's family. There was him and there was Satiah, then there was Alulim and his new progeny, Aisling; two against two. Aisling would be a quick kill, but he wasn't sure he could bring himself to destroy the woman who had helped raise him, the only semblance of family he had remaining on Earth, even if she had been turned.

"I've missed you, Will," Aisling said, interrupting the rapidity of his contemplation.

"He killed ma and da," Will said, motioning to Alulim.

"He gave them the option, death or eternal life here on Earth with us," she said.

As the anger continued to swell within Will, his hands began to illuminate. The three other vampires took note of them, squinting at the sight of them as they did.

"Careful there," Alulim said, "you don't want to do something that will end poorly for you."

"You're right about that. What I want is to do something that will end poorly for you."

"We have a plan –" Satiah began to say, but Alulim gripped a clump of her hair and squeezed it, and her mouth widened with a silent scream as her head tilted back and her exposed fangs lifted toward the ceiling.

Will bent to one knee and floated his brilliant hand just inches over Agrimus' detached head. "Release her or I'll roast him so badly that even Samyaza himself wouldn't be able to resurrect him."

Alulim hissed at Will and regrettably released Satiah, then turned to Aisling who remained by his side. "I told you he was defiant."

Aisling looked at Will questioningly. "You must mind our master, Will. He has given us the gift of immortality and so many wondrous talents. I feel young again and my hurt and loneliness is no more."

"Join with us, auntie. His ways are cruel and unnecessary. Together we can restore peace on this Earth between humans and vampires."

Alulim laughed a deep, genuine, bellowing laugh. "Peace with the humans. They outnumber you by the millions and their armies alone trump vampires by the thousands. The humans are not even open-minded and accepting of their own differences. They slaughter and enslave their own kind over beliefs and skin color. What do you think they will do to you, a true and superior threat to their entire species?"

"Like us, they are not all good, but they are not all bad either. In time we will root out the evil, on both sides," Will said.

"All humans are inherently evil, even those who pretend not to be and who strive to be as their Lord intended and hoped they would be. There are none of pure goodness, and the truth eventually is exposed in all of them when faced with anything they feel privately threatened by, which is why your Lord had to send His first Messiah, the shepherd of peace. That plan failed and so now there is you, the extinguisher of perceived evil."

"You're so certain of the humans' frailty."

"I am certain because they are all my children. You are all my children," Alulim said, casting an open hand across the room. "Every human and vampire who walks this earth was first born into this world by the seed of Alulim. You are of my lineage and you all shame me, just as my first born children shamed me by not accepting what I am and what my son here was." Alulim cast a sorrowful look over the corpse of Agrimus.

"Because he was a monster who fed on them as if they were nothing more than walking vessels of blood," Will said.

Alulim hissed again and the entirety of his fangs showed. "It would be easier for you if it were so cut and dry, so black and white, so precisely a case of good and evil, of right and of wrong. Unfortunately for you and those you serve, as with most conflict in this life where there are differing accounts of the same story being portrayed, the answer lies somewhere in between. In the middle of the vast greyness, where the good is not always so righteously good, and the bad is not always so unjustifiably bad. But we chose sides, the humans, the vampires, and even the celestial, and I have chosen my side and you have very clearly chosen yours."

Will and Alulim eyed each other silently, each waiting for the other to make a move.

"He is here, master," Aisling said, cutting the silence. She took a step toward where Will knelt, but her focus was on something unseen beside him. "Hello, Eamon. It has been a long time." She took another step. "You have done well protecting our beloved Will, but your services are no longer required." She turned back to Alulim displaying a toothy grin. "He looked at me. He has never acknowledged me before now."

Her smile was contagious and Alulim matched it. "A guardian angel with limited abilities to actually guard against what comes next," he said.

Aisling's eyes toured the room. "There are others. They all look very similar."

Alulim's amused expression transformed to one of intrigue as he looked around the room for his invisible foes, then turned his attention on Will who was still squatting over Agrimus' head. "You'll have to kill me if you want that sword," Alulim said.

Will stood, flashing his sharp incisors, and presented his fiery palms. "I'm going to kill you regardless."

Will was about to step forth when he heard Satiah speak. He looked to her in question, but the confused expression she returned told him she had not said anything, and he immediately realized it was her thoughts that he was hearing. "Please don't let Will die, if he dies I will sacrifice myself to the sun," she was thinking, and it repeated again, and again.

Will concentrated and he could hear Aisling as well. "Don't fight, let's go hunt. Don't fight, let's go hunt."

Even Alulim's thoughts were audible to him, though they were broken up into echoing whispers and not as coherent. There was fear in his thoughts, fear of what would become of him if Will were to destroy him, and fear that Will being alive was his only opportunity to find the sword and save Agrimus. And there was something else within those hurried contemplations. A wish, regret, rationalization, a longing – a wish that there was an easier way, regret that he had pushed Will too far by having his parents slaughtered, rationalization of his vengeance, and a longing for earlier times on Earth. There were so many things in addition to those, but these were at the surface. An ancient brain filled with billions of archaic memories and misgivings, too much for Will to absorb all at once, as if a thousand people were in the room all talking at once about everything they had ever done in their lives, but Will was able to decipher enough. And so, with the addition of mindreading, all the divine abilities Will had possessed as a human were his once again, just as Evangelos had promised they eventually would be.

Will's enraged stare noticeably softened, as did the glow emanating from his palms, and Alulim's own expression transformed to one of uncertainty.

"What is happening, Will? Don't let your guard down," Satiah said.

Alulim's eyes became suspicious and his head recoiled slightly. "You dare look upon me with pity?" he said to Will.

"You regret it," Will said. "You are angry, but the part of you that once advocated for chivalry and coexistence amongst species still exists, and you feel regret for what you did to my family."

Alulim laughed, but it was forced. "The last thing I would ever feel for preying on any human is regret."

"I can hear your thoughts, all of your thoughts," Will said, momentarily glancing at the others. "The regret is there. You second guess it, but it does not subside."

"Now you read thoughts? Nonsense."

"Right this moment you are thinking that you might be better served retreating and joining with the other vampires before risking battle with me."

Alulim regarded Satiah who wore a similarly curious look and shrugged at him, equally surprised by Will's claims.

"I have no reason to fear you, young vampire," Alulim said to Will.

"You do because you fear the unknown. You fear whatever judgment, or worse, the nothingness that awaits you beyond this existence, and I have been sent here by our Lord to deliver you to whatever and wherever that place may be."

Aisling stepped toward Will with a cautioning hand and words on the edge of her lips, but Will raised an impeding finger and she heeded his request.

"The Grigori will be freed and any questions about what lies beyond this will never again be of concern," Alulim said.

Will looked to Satiah and she gave him an encouraging nod, so he addressed Alulim again. "What if there was a better way?"

"Better for whom?" Alulim said.

"For all. There is an option for us to restore relations between vampires and humans, and to avoid killing off all vampires, including ourselves."

"So a better option for you, where I forgive all the sins committed against me and my people, and I leave my son here to rot."

"You are not the only one required to exonerate others of heinous and seemingly unforgiveable acts," Will said, his ire up and his palms gleaming again.

Satiah stepped between them. "We may be able to give life to Agrimus without the need for freeing the Grigori," she said to Alulim.

Alulim sneered. "I trust nothing you propose to me."

"You don't have a choice," Will said. "I know every action you contemplate before you could execute it. Right now you are calculating the favor of your odds if you were to sweep Satiah's legs out from beneath her, then swiftly claw my eyes out with a swipe of your nails as I look down upon her."

Alulim's tight-lipped silence verified Will's claim.

"You must consider it, Alulim," Satiah said.

"Why even propose this if you are so confident in your abilities? Why not just destroy me?" Alulim said to Will.

"Because you will dictate the behavior of all other vampires. Without you, I will have to kill them all, the army from the Dead Sea and all others you have created on this Earth, including Aisling. Then Satiah and I will be left to fend for ourselves against the faction of humans who will inevitably seek to destroy us when we expose ourselves. We can't restore thousands of years of change alone, it will take the entirety of our species."

"And so what is your plan for Agrimus?"

"His body is well preserved," Satiah said. "If Will is able to repair his injury, I have agreed to attempt to restore life to him."

Alulim looked at Will questioningly. "You expect me to believe you are capable of such an act of healing."

"I've healed the flesh of the deceased before and I believe this will be no different," Will said, and he could hear Alulim having an internal discussion with himself over the risk, and weighing it against the alternatives.

"Let's see it then," Alulim finally said, motioning to Agrimus.

"First we talk with the other vampires and get them to join us, and we destroy those who choose not to treat the humans as allies rather than as prey," Will said.

"They will do as I instruct, Alulim said."

"I would like to confirm that for myself."

"And how can I trust that you will not betray our agreement?"

"You will have to trust me, just as I will have to trust that you will not turn your army against me. But know two things before we enter into this pact. First, if you betray me, your chances of resurrecting your son will be greatly diminished, for you will be without my ability to heal, and locating the Sword of Methuselah to free the Grigori will continue to be a futile effort. Second, if we bring Agrimus back and he resorts to his rebellious, predatory ways, I will put him down for all eternity."

Alulim weighed the proposition and finally nodded. "Agreed."

"One more thing," Satiah said to Alulim. "You betrothed me to Jushur. I belong to no one as of this moment, not even to you. I am with Will because I chose to be with Will. You must emancipate me and renege on your promise to Jushur."

"If you both see your end of this agreement through with Agrimus, I will free you of my charge. As for Jushur, he will do as I instruct, and without question."

Will and Satiah exchanged a nod of mutual approval. "Agreed," they said in unison.

Alulim walked to the doorway and inspected the dark sky. "We've only a few hours then. We better get on with it."

Will, Satiah, and Aisling followed Alulim out into the night.

# 31

The four vampires arrived at the outskirts of the mountain caves where Alulim had left the other vampires with little more than an hour remaining before sunrise. Alulim lifted his nose to the atmosphere and sniffed. Satisfied, he spoke out in a low, deep voice.

"Jushur."

Within moments, the large, bearded vampire was before them. He held in his right hand a long sabre with fresh blood dripping off of its sharpened edge. He immediately growled at Will, then grunted something at Alulim. Alulim replied in a similar, yet much lengthier, grunt-filled statement.

Will turned to Satiah inquiringly.

Satiah leaned into Will's ear. "He thought we had taken Alulim prisoner. Alulim is explaining the change in plans and instructing him to inform his army while we gather all other vampires in the area."

When Alulim finished, Jushur stood with a stoic gaze. Alulim directed an additional, more forceful grunt at him. It was the one word Will was able to identify.

"Go."

Jushur met eyes with Satiah and Will detected the slightest of grins on his mouth and in his eyes. He then turned and slowly began to step toward the mountains where the other vampires of the Dead Sea lied in wait. Satisfied enough with Jushur's begrudging obedience, Alulim turned his attention to Will. As he did, Will and Satiah caught sight of Jushur lifting his sabre as its blade gleamed against the gibbous moon for the briefest of moments. Alulim recognized the alarm in their eyes and tried to swivel around, but Jushur spun his body with such velocity that none of them were able to react quickly enough before the sword cut through Alulim's neck with the force of a helicopter rotor blade.

Satiah cried out and she and Will leapt at Jushur before Alulim's head even hit the ground. Jushur rolled back, then swiped at them with his bloody sabre, causing them both to recoil as the tip of the blade came within inches of their faces. Aisling knelt over Alulim's headless body, silently weeping.

"You killed our master," she said.

Will and Satiah squared off with Jushur, who held them at bay with the threat of his sabre. He grunted something at them.

"He says he did not spend thousands of years in desolation awaiting vengeance, only to concede his power and be enslaved by those who imprisoned him," Satiah translated to Will.

More grunts came from Jushur.

"He says Alulim was weak and was never a king of the humans, and his submission to us shames his people."

A continued string of grunting, then a laugh from Jushur. Satiah glared at him.

"What is it?" Will said.

"He claims you will help him free the Grigori, who will make him king of the Earth as a reward, and I will be his subservient queen. Or else he will kill us both."

The light radiated from Will's hands causing Jushur to step back and shield his eyes as he snarled in Will's direction.

"I can't make out his thoughts," Will said to Satiah, "they are nonsensical to me, but we can take him down together and then we'll try to heal Alulim. You approach from the left and I'll go in from his right. If he comes at me first, take his legs out but mind his sword. And if he comes at you, I'll go for his head."

Satiah was prepared to say something in reply, but before she could, something ignited behind them and Aisling began wailing. Will and Satiah turned midway to see what had happened, trying their best to keep Jushur in their peripheral as they did so. Alulim's carcass was enflamed, but the blaze was unlike any fire they had seen. It didn't crackle and sizzle the way a burning object typically would, and there was no dirty smoke streaming in ribbons from the flames. Instead, the flames were a clean and piercing-bright white and bluish tone. Aisling had clearly been seared by it in some fashion and lie writhing in pain several yards from the body. Jushur stood in frozen amazement for a few moments, then used the distraction to flee to the mountains and join his army. His departure was swift and by the time Will and Satiah could debate the risk of following him into a potential battle where they would be highly outnumbered, he was too far gone. A long series of faint grunts echoed in the night once he was out of sight and Will looked to Satiah inquiringly.

"He says to bring our army to the sacred mountaintop come next nightfall. The loser of the battle will bow to the other and concede the sword. If we do not do this, his army will feast upon the humans and create vampires from each of them."

"We don't have an army," Will said.

"We're going to have a much bigger problem if he continues to add progenies to his army. They won't be of much threat to us, but if he starts sending young vampires out into the night in droves, they could wreak havoc for humans all over."

"It would start a war with the humans again."

Satiah nodded. "Then you and I would have a real problem. Every human looking to destroy us as we try to destroy every other vampire on Earth."

Will grimaced as he wrapped his thoughts around the reality of her words.

Aisling's cries had tapered off, but she still lie on the ground rubbing furiously at her face as her body rocked back and forth in the desert sand. Will regained his focus and rushed over to her. He pulled her hands away to inspect the damage.

"My eyes," she said.

Her face was scorched, but already healing. Will put his hand over her eyes and recited the prayer he had always done when attempting to heal another. The light from his palm further singed her face, causing her to wail again and attempt to fight him off of her, but Will was stronger and retained his grasp on her. When he was done, she scrambled away from him in fear, but quickly realized that her sight had returned. She blinked rapidly as her sight adjusted.

"You healed me, just as you once did for Cormac," she said.

Will gave an affirming nod. Hearing his old friend's name stung him. Aisling was all he had left from his childhood. Cormac, his parents, their friends, all of them except Aisling were gone. Though she had been made a vampire, she was with him and that gave him a level of comfort.

"I've never seen anything like that before." Satiah stood over the spot where Alulim had been. The white fire, or whatever it had been, was extinguished and his head and body were gone entirely, as if he had never existed. All that remained to indicate that Alulim had been there were the waves and dips in the sand where his body and head had collided with the ground. Satiah knelt down beside the largest impression, where his torso had been, and ran her index finger through the outline of it.

Will recognized the sorrow in her eyes she was trying to conceal. "I'm sorry," he said.

Satiah shrugged the words off and looked up to inspect the sky. "Daylight will break soon," she said.

Will's eyes drifted up to confirm her assessment. "We need to find shelter."

"We should feed first," Satiah said.

"Yes, please, let us feed," Aisling said.

Will walked over and helped his aunt off the ground. "We don't feed the way Alulim taught you to feed," he said to her. "We take only what we need, careful not to take so much that we kill the human."

"But it won't be enough," she said, then began to regurgitate all the justification Alulim had once provided him about the circle of life, and vampires being the dominant species, and equating humans to the cattle they consume.

"That is the attitude that killed my parents," Will said. "I know that the thirst for blood can be overpowering, but I also know that emotions and attachments you had as a human do not die off entirely simply because you are a vampire now. You miss them and the best way you can honor their memory is to not do to another family what was done to us and to them."

Aisling bobbed her head agreeably, then suddenly her attention was grabbed by something else. Her eyes scanned the land surrounding them.

"What is it?" Will said.

"They are here. Eamon and the others. They don't wear facial expressions the way we do, but I can somehow feel in their dark eyes that they are concerned."

"We're all concerned, but for now we need to feed and find a safe place to rest," Will said, then began walking toward Satiah.

"Wait," Aisling said, raising her hand in a halting motion as she made a shushing noise.

Will and Satiah froze in place, watching as Aisling concentrated to a degree that seemed to entrance her. A few moments later, she came out of it and the expression on her face turned grave.

"Eamon spoke to me," she said. "He didn't use words, but I could hear his mind."

"What is it?" Satiah said.

"He wants me to remind you that if the Grigori are freed, they will conquer not only Earth, but the Heavens as well."

"We know the risk," Will said.

"The sword is the only way to ensure that does not happen," Aisling said with a sudden determined look.

"There are less drastic–" Will started, but was cut off by Aisling.

"The ones we love, all of them, they have ascended there and would be lost to us for all eternity." Aisling paused, considering her own words as she stared into the nothingness of the desert beyond. "Jack," she eventually said in a quiet voice, to no one but herself.

# 32

Will woke the following evening just before sundown. The three of them had sought shelter in a walled town north of Mount Hermon. The homes there were small, squared stone units with conical shaped roofs that strongly resembled upside-down beehives. The homes were ideal due to their lack of windows, but the initial entry into them had not been simple. When they had entered the intimate town, where the homes were nearly joined together they were so close, it was dark and quiet, nearly a half hour remaining till daybreak, but there was a man shuffling about the road. At first glance, there was no clear explanation as to why the man was awake and roaming the town at such a time. He wasn't tending to any farm-related activities, he didn't appear to be headed in any particular direction, and he didn't smell intoxicated. As they crept closer, the man made a series of whimpering noises and Will quickly became suspicious that he was weeping. Will motioned for Satiah and Aisling to hang back and they did so. Will approached the man, clearing his throat before getting too close in order to avoid completely alarming him. The man was startled nonetheless and jumped as he turned to face Will before freezing with fear.

"I'm not dangerous," Will said. "You look like you could use some help, what is wrong?"

The man stared at Will with wide, teary eyes, unsure of what to make of him, and Will quickly realized that the man could not understand him. Will raised a pleading finger at the man as he called to Satiah. She approached them and the man began to pant with fear. Will quickly explained the situation to Satiah and instructed Satiah to ask him what was wrong and tell him that they were there to help. She did so and the man's expression morphed to confusion as he glanced around him, his mind coming to terms with the situation, wondering where they had even come from. Satiah touched his shoulder and repeated herself. The man looked at her again and caught sight of her fangs in the light of the moon as she spoke. Will and Satiah both detected the sudden horror and Will clamped his hand over the man's mouth as he was about to holler out.

"Tell him we are not here to harm anyone. If we were, we'd have done it already," Will said.

Satiah did, and the man's brow furrowed, seemingly wondering what they wanted if they weren't there for blood. Satiah repeated that they wanted to help him, and again asked what was wrong.

Will removed his hand and gave the man an affirming nod. After a brief hesitation, the man explained that his son was ill and was likely to die soon. The boy had been sick with fever for days, and now they were unable to wake him and his breathing had slowed to almost nothing. Not wanting to upset his wife and eldest son, the man had stepped out when his emotions began to overtake him.

"Let him know I want to help. Tell him I can heal the boy," Will said after Satiah had translated the details to him.

When Satiah relayed this to the man, he became frantic. He wasn't shouting, but his words came out in a sharp whisper, and his head was wagging wildly side to side.

"He thinks you want to turn him into one of us. He'd rather his son cross over to the other side than walk the Earth as one of us," Satiah said.

"Clarify."

Satiah calmed the man, and once she did, Will presented his palms to him, which held a subtle glow against the atmosphere of the dark morning hours. The man's eyes widened with wonder and uncertainty, then filled with tears as his body began trembling, over taken by emotion again. He dropped to his knees, raised his hands skyward, and began repeating something in raspy whisper.

"He is praising God," Satiah said.

When the man was done, Will and Satiah helped him to his feet and he invited them, along with Aisling, into his home. Will healed the boy and the family erupted in celebratory activity, showering the child with kisses, praising God, hugging each other, hugging Will, Satiah, and Aisling, and kneeling before Will in worship. Day was breaking and the commotion attracted the attention of relatives in nearby homes. When the merriment subsided, Will asked his own favor in return – blood and a place to rest for the day. The family obliged without question, yet there was fear in each of their eyes as the father of the boy went first, offering his arm to Will, who drank from it until he knew the man could safely give no more. Once done, Will healed the puncture wounds and a blanket of relief fell over the man, and in turn his family willingly began to roll up their sleeves to offer their own arms to Satiah and Aisling. In all, the vampires were able to feed on five adults between them, as well as the eldest son of the man. Will had taken his blood. It was young and powerful. And after, they slept.

When Will stepped outside the home after waking, Satiah and Aisling were still sleeping and the sinking sun left a haze across his vision. It was the only quiet time Will would find to contemplate his plan. He had decided he would leave Aisling behind when he and Satiah made the journey to Mount Hermon – she was much too fresh and inexperienced to survive even a minute against ancient vampires – but that was about all he had decided on. He thought back to the dream he had under the boat in Iona and it confused him. He recalled feeling accompanied by others as he prepared to battle the army of vampires approaching through the darkness, as though he had his own small army beside him. But as it turned out, it would only be he and Satiah, and it would take more than just the two of them to defeat Jushur and an army of two dozen vampires, all predating Satiah.

Will was able to make out the shape of a bird as it coasted past and perched itself on one of the cone roofs a few yards away. It made no sound, but Will could feel it staring down upon him.

"I'd ask you what I should do, but I already know your opinion on it and you wouldn't answer back anyway," Will said to the raven.

Will waited nonetheless to see if the bird would give him any type of sign, but there was nothing.

"Just as I thought," he said.

Will turned his attention to the west and followed the final moments of the sun's descent, part of him wondering if it might be the last he would ever witness. Within moments, Satiah and Aisling joined him outside. They stood quietly at first, all appreciating the quiet first few minutes of nightfall, when other vampires have not yet emerged from hibernation, and most humans were retreating to their homes for dinner.

"What's the plan?" Satiah eventually said.

"Well," will said reluctantly, "I want Aisling to stay here." He turned to Aisling to provide her his reasoning, but her attention was caught by something else. The raven, she was studying it.

"What is it? Eamon?" Will said.

"No, a different one. Says his name is Evangelos."

Will and Satiah met each other's bewildered gaze.

"He wants you to ascend the mountain," Aisling continued. "Jushur is already preparing his army."

"And what do I do when I get there? It's only Satiah and I."

"He says you must hurry and beat Jushur there."

Before Will could probe any further, the raven took flight and departed, releasing a final caw.

"Evangelos?" Will said, his voice echoing through the night, but the raven flew on.

Will turned to Satiah. "So what do I do now?"

"You do as he says. What other choice do we have?"

Will acquiesced, stalling only to ask the family whose home they had stayed in the night before if Aisling could stay on with them for a while longer. Once done, he and Satiah set off for the mountain.

Will and Satiah reached the peak of Mount Hermon uncertain of what to expect, but the rocky plateau was deserted and all that could be heard in the cold night air was the moving air itself. They stood together near the ruins of an ancient temple, surveying the uneven terrain in fear of an ambush.

"What will we do if they surround us? We don't stand a chance against a herd of vampires all older than me?" Satiah said.

"Try to take out Jushur. It's the first thing my dad taught me about fighting when confronted by a gang of bullies. Hit the big one first and hope the others back down."

"Ever had to do it?"

"Just once, when I was about eleven."

"How did it work out?"

"Not too good that time. But I figure if we can eliminate Jushur quickly, we might be able to reason the others into a more peaceful resolution. There's a chance at least some of them were once at peace with the humans and aren't violent by nature."

"They've been confined to the bottom of the sea for thousands of years, I'm pretty certain violence is their nature at this point."

Will gave no reply.

"Have you reconsidered the sword, Will? I know it's not ideal for you and me, but it's a hell of a lot better than what awaits if we lose this battle."

"Earlier I did, especially after what Aisling said last night, but if that truly was Evangelos who came to visit us, then he must have a plan." Will spotted an airborne object approaching rapidly from the west side of the mountain. He drew Satiah's attention to it. "Get ready," he said.

Satiah tightened her grip on the handle of the sabre she had borrowed from their hosts earlier in the evening and narrowed her focus on the object. "Looks like there's two of them," she said.

A moment later, the beings landed on the mountain roughly fifty yards away and began walking toward them.

"Those aren't vampires," Will said.

"The Seraphim," Satiah said.

"I really hope they're here to help us."

Lorelai and Emma stopped when they were within ten yards of Will and Satiah.

"You're drastically outnumbered," Lorelai said.

"Well I'm hoping you're here to help even out the odds," Will said.

"You haven't left us a choice with your irresponsible behavior. We are the guardians of the path to the sword and you have agreed to forfeit the sword to Jushur should his army defeat you, and so now the path to the sword lies through this battle, and we must fight to ensure its safety."

"I'd like to think you might have come anyway, but fair enough," Will said.

Lorelai's gaze wandered upward and tracked the flight of an approaching raven. It circled above them, cawing as they so often did, but it was controlled and a more muted cry than in the past.

"They are approaching from the south," Lorelai said to the group, then focused on Will. "You're friend says to allow him the first strike before we attack. It will be a vital one."

Will looked up at the hovering raven and nodded.

Moments later the army of ancient vampires crested over the mountain, all inflight like a swarm of angry wasps. There were twenty-seven, as expected, but it might as well have been a hundred. They landed about a hundred yards away as Jushur stopped to size up Will and the others, his army coming to a halt behind him. He laughed a loud, grunting laugh and Will wanted to destroy him just for that alone. Not so much the being laughed at, but the grunting noises the primordial king was constantly making.

The raven closed in on the vampire army and Jushur was so caught up in his amusement with his adversaries that he didn't take notice of the bird immediately. Another sizeable vampire, second only to Jushur in body mass, stood several yards to Jushur's left amongst a crowd of smaller vampires, mostly female. The raven nose-dived toward him, landing on his head, and taking hold of the vampire's thick, dark locks in its talons, just as the other raven had done to Jushur on the island of Iona days before. Jushur had been informed by Alulim of the dangers in killing ravens, but no other vampires from the Dead Sea had been, and so the beefy vampire grabbed hold of the raven, not giving a second thought to whether it should live or die.

Jushur turned to see what was happening when his comrade grumbled in pain, and as he saw the vampire take hold of the bird, Jushur shouted out the vampire's name – "Mashda!" – and held up his hand in an effort to stop what Alulim had warned him of, but the vampire named Mashda was too angry to take notice of the warning, and he tore the raven's small head from its body. Before the carcass even touched the ground, brightness departed from it, and it forced all the vampires to squint and step back, including Jushur. The light was quickly absorbed by Mashda, and when it was done, the other vampires stood in silent confusion, wondering what had just happened to him. Mashda stared back at all of them and his eyes landed on Jushur.

"Mashda?" Jushur said, in an effort to determine whether he needed to destroy his friend.

Mashda smiled back, putting Jushur's mind at ease for a moment, just long enough that he could make his escape and join Will. Mashda burst high into the air, flipped backward, and landed next to Will before Jushur could react. Jushur glared at the defected vampire and groaned a deep, displeased groan. Will caught eyes with the re-embodied version of Evangelos for a moment and they exchanged a satisfied grin.

"Good to have you back," Will said, then returned his attention to the army before them. Jushur and his vampires outnumbered them five to one, but they were a mighty five, and the sense of assurance Will felt was familiar to him. He was in the moment from his dream and he knew it was right. He turned to Satiah. "Give them one more chance to surrender," he said.

Satiah shouted over the proposition, but Jushur's face contorted and his snare grew angrier. He barked something out and raised his sabre to the sky. The other vampires raised their fangs skyward and bellowed in response.

"They will fight," Satiah said.

The army surged toward them, Jushur leading the pack. As they neared, the two Seraphim simultaneously blasted Jushur and he was propelled backward a few dozen yards, bringing down several vampires behind him as he went. A large faction of the army halted at the sight of it, but eight of them continued charging forward.

Will pulled Satiah and Evangelos to him. "Take out as many as you can, but stay together," he said.

They leapt to battle, Satiah with her sabre and Evangelos with a straight-edged sword, lopping off the heads of five encroaching vampires. Will, Lorelai, and Emma each took out the reaming three in similar fashion, taking hold of their heads and scorching them with explosive intensity.

Jushur climbed to his feet, noticeably hampered by the blow, urging his army forward again. Many were hesitant after witnessing the divine power of Will and the Seraphim, but Jushur compelled them to battle on. Jushur stormed toward Will and the other vampires encircled him. Lorelai and Emma stepped forward, but Will dissuaded them with a gesture of his hand. They reluctantly complied and joined Satiah and Evangelos behind him. Combined, they and the vampire army enclosed Will and Jushur in a crude, impromptu fight circle. Will raised his forearm to block a blow from Jushur. He was successful, but the large vampire was old and strong and the impact fractured Will's arm. Adrenaline dominated the pain and Will remained alert enough to duck the blade of Jushur's sabre as it came around. Will spun as he did so and took Jushur's legs out from beneath him. As Jushur hit the ground, Will sprang toward him in an attempt to bring his boot down on Jushur's skull, but Jushur rolled away, then took hold of Will's ankle as he landed and yanked him to the ground. Jushur pushed himself up, lifted his sabre, and brought the point of the blade downward. Will was able to grab Jushur's wrist before the tip pierced his eye, but it was his broken arm that had blocked it and the strength of Jushur made it painfully difficult to hold the blade off. Will clamped his other hand onto Jushur's face and the large vampire howled a high-pitched sound Will hadn't thought the grunting beast was capable of making. Will's palm seared Jushur's face, causing his cheeks, nose, and forehead to blister and smolder. Jushur dropped his sabre and took Will's arm in both hands and pried it away from him. He fell back, shouting something out as he landed on his backside. His army charged forward, nearly overwhelming Satiah, Evangelos, and the Seraphim. Lorelai and Emma quickly combined to form a protective orb around the four them. A half dozen of the vampires collided with it and were set ablaze. They retreated, hissing sharp piercing cries of pain, away from the mountain and into the night. The remaining vampires cowered from the brilliant shield of light, which blinded and burned their eyes as though sandpaper had been taken to them.

Will clambered after Jushur's fallen sabre, but Jushur beat him to it. As Will leapt to attack him from behind, Jushur rolled over and drove the blade through Will's abdomen as Will landed on him. The shock of the pain caused Will to curl his body back, extending his neck and exposing his throat to Jushur who sunk his fangs into it. Blood spewed into Jushur's mouth. Will took hold of Jushur's face again and the strength of Will's light ignited Jushur's entire head, including his long hair. Jushur removed his fangs and shoved Will off of him. Will climbed to his feet and removed the sabre that was skewered through him. His abdomen and throat immediately began to heal and he turned his focus back to Jushur who had torn a piece of clothing off one of the other vampires and was frantically patting the flames out of his hair. Random strands of limp hair hung from the few patches of scalp that had not been scorched to the skull. His entire face was also charred to the bone in most places. He began to hiss at everyone, his fangs unusually prominent, no longer hidden behind his beard and the lips that had been smelted to his gums. This vampire army began to slowly back away, quietly grunting to each other as they did, and suddenly all at once, they were gone, retreating into the night and leaving their badly-burned leader to fend for himself.

The Seraphim released the protective orb they had shielded their companions behind, and they all encircled Jushur.

"Tell him he has been defeated and that the sword will not be his," Will said to Satiah.

Satiah relayed the message, but as she did, the skin on Jushur's face began to regenerate at a rapid rate and the large vampire's hissing transformed into an emphatic laugh.

"What is happening?" Will said

"He drank from your blood," Satiah said.

Within moments, all but the hair on his scalp and face had been restored and Jushur stood in the center of the circle looking like the hulking warrior they had first encountered days before on Iona.

"Destroy him," Will said.

Will had barely spoken the words when Jushur sprang into the air and rocketed out of sight.

"We should go after him," Will said.

"There is little that can be done if he has retreated to the sea from which he came," Lorelai said.

"That is where the others went back to," Satiah said, "I heard them refer to their home in the sea as they fled from the mountain."

"Then that's where we shall go," Will said.

Lorelai shook her head. "The risk is too great. They have lived in the caves of those waters for thousands of years and would easily ambush you. Not even the light of Methuselah's sword can touch them there, but they are of little threat now. Jushur conceded this battle and without the sword, he is much less of a risk than Alulim ever was."

"So what now then?" Will said.

"We return to our home," Lorelai said, gesturing to Emma.

Through the dark of night, the feathers of an even darker raven became visible and landed on Lorelai's shoulder.

Will examined it for a moment, then returned his gaze to Lorelai. "And what about us?"

The raven cawed madly for a few moments, causing Lorelai to press a finger to the ear it was perched next to, then it stopped abruptly.

"There are many vampires throughout the Earth still stalking the night, deviously feasting on human lives. Creations of Alulim, which are an even greater threat to the humans now that he is gone," Lorelai said.

"Alulim did provide strict guidelines," Satiah said. "Without the fear of his wrath, most will turn slovenly."

"So what is the plan then?" Will said.

Lorelai rebuffed him with another shake of her head. "That is in your hands now. You were sent here with a purpose, to fulfill the Lord's prophecy of a land free of the Nephilim and their spawn, and instead you sought an alternative vision. Yours is a world where vampires and humans live in harmony."

"And you don't have faith in that vision?" Will said.

"I see a world where humans are unable to live in harmony with each other, much less another species, but it is not for me to judge. I am a gatekeeper to the Sword of Methuselah and to the Archangels, and that is the extent of my concern. But you must understand that the Lord will not sit idle if He remains unhappy with the fruits of His creation."

"Meaning what?" Will said.

"The day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed. Peter, three-ten," Emma said.

Will considered the words, which he took to be more of a threat than anything else, and once he reconciled himself to that, he turned to Satiah and Evangelos. "We better get to work then. You two head back to retrieve Aisling."

"Where are you going?" Satiah said.

"Back to Matmata. I have a pact I need to honor."

"Agrimus? You're going to resurrect him?"

"I'm going to try."

The raven cried out from Lorelai's shoulder and she stepped toward them. "I don't advise that. He could be as dangerous as Alulim, or worse."

Will turned to face her. "I made a deal with Alulim. He held up his end of it, or at least he tried, and now I must honor mine."

Lorelai gave a conceding nod. "As I said, it is not of my concern. I wish you well and I wish you luck. The future of everything may very well hinge on your actions."

"No pressure there," Will said.

Lorelai shrugged.

Will motioned to Satiah and Evangelos. "It's a good thing I've got some help then," he said.

When human beings began to increase in number

on the earth and daughters were born to them,

the sons of God saw that the daughters of humans

were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose.

Then the Lord said, "My spirit will not contend with humans

forever, for they are mortal; their days will be a hundred

and twenty years."

The Nephilim were on the earth in those days – and also

afterward – when the sons of God went to the daughters

of humans and had children by them. They were the heroes

of old, men of renown.

\- Genesis 6:1-4

