CHAPTER ONE

June 30, 1998

Las Vegas, Nevada

Dr. Lee Winslow watched his patient and her boyfriend walk down his azalea-lined driveway, pleased by the young man's tender concern for his girlfriend, manifested in the arm around her waist. He felt the young couple had made the right decision, a fifteen-minute D&C instead of a lifetime of regret and thwarted dreams.

Lee shut the PATIENTS ONLY door and staggered through the waiting room, opening the door to the residential section of his house. He collapsed on a tan leather sofa, relieved that his long day was finally over. First, he'd been woken at 3:00 A.M. for a delivery that kept him on his feet until eight. Then there was a full schedule of patients and finally the abortion. Christ—on his feet for nearly seventeen hours. Lee curled up on the plush sofa, thanking God that none of his other pregnant patients were near their due dates. So there was no reason he couldn't take a hot shower before settling into bed with a glass of that twelve-year-old scotch he'd won on the e-bay auction…

The phone shrilled at him, seeming to mock his intentions for a quiet evening at home. But it was his private line, so Lee let the machine pick up—he didn't have the energy to talk to anybody, and nothing except a patient emergency was dragging him out of the house tonight.

"Lee? This is Charles Tarleton. I'm staying at the Riviera, Suite 1430. I'll be here all night if you get this message. I'd, uh, really like to see you."

Charles Tarleton! Lee felt his mouth go dry and he raced over to his answering machine, rewinding the tape so he could reassure himself the message wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Dr. Charles Tarleton… wunderkind of the NIH for five years, a senior fellow by the age of thirty. They'd met when Lee, then a lowly assistant, had been assigned to aid in Charles's research to harvest stem cells from umbilical-cord blood for bone-marrow transplants. Charles and Lee worked well together, and it wasn't long before they began seeing each other outside of their research.

Not that there was too much time for socializing—what with Charles insisting on working late into the night and then sleeping all day. Still, they'd had very good times on the few nights a month Charles did allow himself time off. Then one day Charles abruptly resigned his fellowship and vanished, without a word to Lee.

I'd really like to see you. Lee felt a flush of anger go through him. Charles wanted to see him now… after ten years of silence? After taking off without a word of explanation? After leaving him to cry for months on end and wonder what he'd done wrong?

A dreadful thought occurred to Lee, making cold tentacles of fear wrap around his heart. What if Charles needed to see him because he had to tell him he had…

Oh, stop that! Lee scolded himself. Even if Charles had tested positive for HIV, he was fine. First, it had been ten years since they'd been together and Lee, at his mother's worried insistence, had been tested many times since then—each test coming back negative.

Still, no matter how Charles had hurt him, Lee wouldn't wish such a horrible thing on him. If that was Charles's reason for contacting him, maybe the only thing his ex wanted was someone to comfort him, a shoulder to cry on. In that case, it would be selfish just to sit here and ignore the message.

Don't play Mother Teresa, a voice reprimanded in Lee's mind. If you go over there, it's not going to be because you're Visiting the Sick. We both know you've still got a torch for him… even after ten years, after being dumped like a two-dollar whore.

I do not still have a torch for him, Lee fired back at that despicable, unfortunately correct, voice.

Oh, yeah? It replied. Then why the thump, thump, thumping heart? Why the clammy hands? Look at yourself, the voice continued in disgust.

You be quiet, Lee ordered and snatched his car keys off the end table in the hallway. He wasn't going to call; he'd go to the suite instead and confront Charles. If for no other reason, he was going over there for the explanation Charles owed him for his shameful conduct. Somehow Lee managed to convince himself that an explanation was the only reason he was heading toward the Riviera at breakneck speed.

"Lee!" Charles gave him a quick, fumbled embrace and beckoned him to come in. "It's great to see you… just great. You look fantastic."

"I look like a bum," Lee replied, stepping into the opulent suite. He hadn't even bothered shaving before he came over here… he knew the blond and gray (his mind refused to acknowledge how much gray) stubble looked horrid. And the sweat-stained Izod shirt and wrinkled khakis didn't lend much to his appeal either. But what did he care? He didn't have to dress up for a lover that couldn't be bothered to leave a forwarding address ten years ago… no matter how handsome he was, or how much Lee's heart had pounded when he saw Charles again. "You're the one who looks great. My God, don't you age?"

Lee meant the remark to be a joke, but Charles blanched as though Lee had accused him of performing unspeakable acts with small children.

Still, Lee thought, inspecting his ex, it was true—the man had not aged one bit in the past ten years. The jet-black hair was free of gray, and that did not appear to be the result of dye. There were no wrinkles on Charles's face, not even laugh lines. God, he was forty years old but he looked like a boy in his early twenties.

But even if Charles had somehow managed to elude middle age, he did not appear young or carefree. His skin was far too pale, but Charles had always looked pale, ignoring Lee's blandishment that he put his work aside for once and get some sun.

Charles walked toward the wet bar in the living room. "What would you like to drink?"

"I brought something." He held out the scotch he'd decided to bring, though he wasn't sure if it was a peace offering or something to whack Charles over the head with.

"Glenfiddich." Charles gave him a wan smile and carried the bottle toward the bar. "Please, make yourself at home."

Lee perched on a leopard-print sofa, watching Charles prepare the drinks. Something was wrong with his old flame… his hands trembled slightly and the drinks he prepared were ludicrously oversize. This wasn't the laid-back, cool man Lee remembered. What was going on?

Then Lee's eyes fell on the black leather easy chair a few feet from him and the long gold skirt draped carelessly across it. "Have you turned cross-dresser or brought your wife with you?" Lee inquired caustically.

Charles didn't look up while he poured a greenish liquid Lee assumed was a liqueur into a tumbler. "That belongs to Meghann. She's a friend."

"Does your wife approve of you traveling to Sin City with this friend?" Lee inquired sarcastically.

Charles met Lee's eyes, flushing guiltily. "Lee, I… I was never married. It was just an excuse for not seeing you during the day."

"You lied to me?" Oddly, Lee wasn't very surprised by the confession. Charles had never told him anything about his wife—not even her name, only that he could never see Lee during the day because the sunlight hours he didn't sleep through supposedly belonged to his family. At the time, Lee assumed Charles's reticence stemmed from guilt; now he found out it was because the wife never existed.

"It was necessary." Charles handed him the triple shot of scotch and sat next to him on the couch, swallowing two-thirds of his drink in one gulp.

"Necessary?" Lee echoed and felt the beginnings of anger. "What possible excuse can you give me for a relationship based on lies?" He put the scotch down on a blackjack coaster and glared at his former lover. "Why are you here? Why did you call me? To tell me you're not only a coldhearted bastard for the way you left me but a liar too?"

Charles sighed. "I'm here because I need your help."

"You need my… how dare you! Where do you get your gall? Reappearing in my life after ten years because you want something?"

"Lee, please." Charles put his hand over Lee's. "I deserve your anger, I know. I'm not proud of the lies I told you, but if you just let me explain I think you'll understand. After the way I hurt you, I shouldn't even ask for that much but… it's a matter of life and death. Please. I need you."

Lee took a closer look at Charles, his pale skin and his sunken dark brown eyes that kept darting toward the door as though he expected someone to break it down any second, and felt some of his anger subside in the face of Charles's obvious anxiety.

"What is it?" Lee asked. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"I'm in a great deal of trouble," Charles said grimly. "And I'll warn you right now… if you help me, you'll be putting your own life at risk."

Lee thought he might have guessed the truth. "Did you do some kind of government project, Charles? Is that why you had to give me a cover story about what you were doing during the day?"

Charles gave a shaky laugh and drained his glass. "Nothing that mundane, I'm afraid. You see, I'm… I'm not… human."

Charles saw Lee's skeptical look and continued. "I have not been human since 1920. That's the year I became a vampire."

Vampire? Lee would have laughed at such a ridiculous statement if not for the calm, almost matter-of-fact delivery.

"Why do you think you're a vampire?" Lee asked, employing the soothing but not patronizing voice he'd used on paranoid schizophrenics during his psychiatric rotation in medical school. Remembering his earlier worry, Lee began to wonder if his former lover, despite looking quite healthy, was suffering from AIDS dementia.

"Because I have fangs, I must drink blood to survive, and direct exposure to sunlight will kill me," Charles said dryly. "I'm not delusional, Lee."

"I never said—" Lee began but Charles bolted off the couch, dashing toward the door so fast he was almost a blur to Lee.

"Meghann!" Charles flung open the door, and Lee saw a small girl fall into his arms.

"It's worse," the girl cried, and Lee knew she was shivering by the way her teeth chattered as she spoke. "I tried to feed and… oh, God. I got so sick… I barely made it back here…"

Lee forgot about Charles's insane ravings—his only concern was for the sick woman in his arms. He ran into one of the bedrooms and grabbed a zebra-print quilt off the king-size bed. The woman was obviously in shock. She had to be kept warm until an ambulance arrived.

"Here," Lee said and wrapped the quilt around the woman's shoulders. With her face pressed against Charles's shoulder, Lee could see nothing of her features but her bright red hair. For some reason, that flaming hair made Lee uneasy. Where had he seen hair like that before?

Charles bundled his friend up and picked her up, carrying her toward the sofa.

"You want me to call the ambulance?" Lee asked.

Charles shook his head, and the woman looked up from his shoulder, allowing Lee to see her features clearly… especially the lambent green eyes that made Lee fall to his knees, uttering a high-pitched cry of shock.

"Lee?" Charles questioned, holding Meghann's shuddering frame against him.

Lee looked up—not at him, but at Meghann. "Why did you leave me?" he cried. "Didn't you want me? How… what the hell are you? You look the same… you haven't changed at all!"

"Shut the door," Meghann whispered. Charles waved his hand, and the door swung shut. As Lee stared at Meghann in astonishment, it registered dimly on his consciousness that his ex-lover had just displayed authentic telekinetic powers with seemingly little effort.

"Meghann, what is going on?" Charles asked.

"I have no idea," she replied, looking at the mortal on the floor in astonishment. "I've never seen him before in my life."

"Yes, you have!" Lee shouted. "You were my pretty lady and you left me on those church steps!"

"No," Meghann whispered, her voice thick with shock. "It can't be."

"What?" Charles asked. "Meghann, what the hell is going on?"

"Read his thoughts," she said. "You'll see."

Neither Charles nor Meghann was in the habit of using their power to read mortal's thoughts. There was no need to invade the privacy of their minds, except in emergency situations—which this surely was.

Charles put Meghann on the sofa, and then concentrated on Lee.

It's so cold, the little boy thinks, and wraps his arms around himself to keep warm. Why doesn't he have a coat?

There's a lady leaning over him, a very pretty lady with long red hair that the wind whips around her face. "Your name is Mike," she tells him, and her soft voice makes him forget the cold. "You don't remember your mommy's name or where you live. You're going to go into that nice church and tell the priest your name. But you're not going to mention me. Just your name, okay?"

He doesn't want to leave the pretty lady. He knows she just did something to help him even if he can't remember what. But she just stares down and smiles at him and he knows he has to do what she says. So he kisses her cheek and runs up the church steps. He turns around to look at her one more time but she's gone.

"He's the child you saved from Simon?" Charles gasped.

"Who is Simon?" Lee burst out. "For God's sake, who are you?" he asked Meghann again, looking at her with a mixture of awe, fear, and love. "I've dreamed of you for forty years! Every Christmas, I think of the pretty lady that sent me into a church with nothing but a first name." He turned around to face Charles, looking dumfounded. "It's all true, isn't it? You're vampires. That's the only way to explain how she can look exactly the way she did forty years ago."

"It's all true," Charles told him.

Lee drew in a shaky breath—vampires! Not a myth or fantasy, but real as he was, sitting in front of him. They both looked normal… no vicious fangs dripping from their mouths. No, Meghann and Charles looked quite human—scared, tense humans but human all the same.

A thousand different thoughts whirled through his mind, but the overriding one was that the pale, sickly woman on the sofa had saved his life forty years ago. Lee leaned over to kiss Meghann's cheek and hug her tightly. "I owe you my life," he said simply. "I wandered into that church, and within an hour I was the Christmas Miracle. The monsignor, he had a sister that couldn't have children. She and her husband were such good people, and they wanted a child so badly. But adoption took forever, and they were beginning to lose hope… and there I was, an orphan who didn't even know his last name. Oh, social services went through the motions of finding my family but within two weeks I was on my way to Raleigh with my new family. Thank you so much for leading me to the best parents in the world. I swear I'll do everything I can to help you… Meghann," he finished, remembering what Charles had called her when she came in.

"Meghann," he repeated, finally having a name for the pretty lady he'd never forgotten. "Can you tell me who I am? How our paths crossed? I always thought maybe you were my birth mother and you gave me up because you were too young or poor to keep me. But I guess that's not true."

A shadow crossed Meghann's face, and her brow creased. "It's not a very pleasant story, Lee. It sounds like you love your adoptive parents. Isn't that enough? Why do you need to hear about the past?"

"I do want to know," he insisted. "I want to know why I can't remember anything but a woman with red hair leaning over me. I don't even know my birthday or how old I was the night you left me. Please, Meghann. Tell me who I am."

"I can't tell you your birthday because I don't know it but I do know you were five that night. You can't remember anything because I wiped your memory clean. It was my gift to you."

"What was so terrible you'd take my entire life from me?" Lee asked.

"Charles, give me some brandy, it might help with the chills. And give Lee another drink—he's going to need something strong in front of him when I tell this story."

Lee watched anxiously while Charles prepared fresh drinks, the doctor in him taking over when he saw Meghann's blue eyelids and the shivers that racked her body. Privately, he thought Meghann resembled his conception of what a vampire should look like with that chalk-white skin and her bloodless lips.

He wrapped the quilt tightly around her shoulders. "Keep warm."

Meghann gave him a lopsided smile. "It's shock, I know. I'm suffering from… I guess starvation because I can't seem to feed without getting sick. But we'll talk about all that a little later. For now, I'll try and tell you what you think you need to know."

Charles came back to the sofa with Lee's scotch, and explained the green liquid he was drinking was absinthe—the only alcohol that could intoxicate a vampire. Meghann sipped at her snifter glass, and clutched the quilt while she talked.

"You have to know a little about us," she began, and pointed to Charles. "First, to understand what's going on now and the danger you could be in if you decide to help me. Also, if you're going to understand what happened to you when you were a child."

"I'm helping you," Lee said firmly. "No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I owe you my life."

"It could come to that," Meghann told him. "As it nearly did on December 17, 1957. That was the night after I tried to leave the man… no, the thing that transformed me into a vampire."

Lee was surprised by the harsh glare and ugly grimace that crossed Meghann's face. "Why did you want to leave the, um, thing?"

"Because he was evil incarnate," Meghann said simply, and Charles nodded at her words. "He loved to cause pain, thrived on the agony of his victims when he bled them. He tried to make me as vile as he was, taught me to kill my hosts. But it made me miserable, and then along came a vampire that told me I didn't have to kill if I didn't want to." She smiled and took Charles's hand. "I wanted to go live with my new friend and learn his way of life. But Simon,"—she spat the name out as though it had a vile taste—"wouldn't let me go. He bled me, made me so weak I couldn't even move a finger, and left me on a rooftop to die when the sun hit my body if I didn't beg his forgiveness.

"Of course I gave in and he saved me before the sunrise could kill me. The next night, he laughed when I told him I wanted to leave him because I couldn't bear to kill. He said mortals were low and petty… not worthy of my pity or respect. He wanted to make me feel disgust with humankind, so much disgust I'd forget my guilt and kill with as much pleasure as he did. So he went and brought into our house a cheap, junkie whore who had her small son with her."

Lee made a small whimper of distress and Charles wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

Meghann's eyes, compassionate and sad, held Lee's. "Shall I continue? I warn you what you've heard is merely the tip of the iceberg."

Lee nodded and gulped down the rest of his drink, not even gasping when the fiery liquid poured down his throat.

"Your mother,"—Meghann pronounced the word with contempt—"believed Lord Baldevar was a pervert that wanted to have sex with a small boy. Since he was paying enough to keep her in drugs for months to come, she made no objection."

"No!" Lee howled, looking sick.

"I'm sorry, Lee, but it's the truth. Your mother had never involved you in anything before," she lied. "That night was the first time she was willing to let someone touch you… she was very far gone in her heroin addiction." Hell would freeze over before Meghann told this man his mother had let all manner of sick people violate his child's body. He did not need that knowledge; it could only hurt and humiliate him.

"Did this… this vampire touch me?" Lee asked, his face gone almost as pale as hers.

Meghann laughed bitterly. "Simon Baldevar is many things, but he is not a child molester… as far as I know. That was merely a ploy to get your mother in the house. He watched the rage build in me… knew I wanted to tear her apart limb from limb for being willing to let someone hurt her own child. Rage, as he well knew, leads to blood lust—an insane need to devour human blood," she explained at Lee's blank look. "When he tore into her, I leaped at them, dying for a bit of blood. But Simon held me back with one hand while, with all dignity gone, I begged for blood much as your mother would have begged for a fix. He drained your mother until she was dead and told me if I needed blood so badly to drink yours."

Lee put his face in his hands while Meghann continued, seeming oblivious to him and Charles, locked in her own memories. "It took me years to figure out what Simon was up to that night. He knew I hated him for making me kill; why present such an awful choice to me? How I underestimated him… God, he's treacherous!"

"What do you mean?" Lee asked.

It was Charles who answered. "He was out to crush Meghann's spirit that night He'd hoped that most of the fight would be out of her as a result of the hell he put her through the night before, but he knew fear wouldn't be enough to keep her at his side. He had to break the rebellion inside her. If he could make her kill a child, Simon knew she would remain with him because she'd think she deserved her fate—she'd feel she was as evil as he was."

"But his little scheme didn't work," Meghann resumed, her eyes hard and stony. "I refused to hurt you… if you could have seen his face when he realized he'd lost!" She shuddered in memory, but Lee thought he saw some cold glee in her eyes at the thought of foiling this madman she spoke of. "In a rage, he tore you from my arms, Lee, and said he'd drink from you himself if I wouldn't.

"I couldn't let him hurt you—that was my only thought. You cried and wept; I think he made you more scared… he loved the taste of fear in a mortal's blood. I got hold of this fireplace poker and managed to put it through his heart and we escaped his house. I took you to the nearest church, and I wiped your memory clean… clean of the miserable tenement you and your mother lived in, your starvation, her drugs, the nights you were left alone while she worked, and finally I took away all your knowledge of me and Simon." Meghann touched his face, unable to find in this clear-eyed, middle-aged doctor the little ragamuffin she'd helped so long ago. "I can't give you back your memory, Lee… it's gone forever. And why are you called Lee? Your name used to be Mike."

"I was renamed for my maternal grandfather."

"That's sweet." Meghann smiled and Charles nodded. "I'm very happy to hear you had a good life with your adoptive parents. It's what I prayed for."

"Well, what happened to you?" Lee asked. "How did you go from the church steps to this hotel room? Meghann?" He shook her gently, but she didn't respond.

"She fades in and out of consciousness," Charles told him.

"How long has she been like this?" Lee asked, prying open her eyelid to see if the pupil was dilated.

Charles sighed. "She's been lethargic for about a month. I thought she was depressed. You see, she had a mortal lover but he was… well, I'll tell you that story another time. But she wasn't depressed… Meghann is pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Lee gasped. "You can reproduce?"

"It's quite rare… and inevitably ends in death for the mother."

"Then why would Meghann—"

"Meghann was raped," Charles explained and his eyes became narrow slits of fury. "You see, after our master was slaughtered—"

"Master?"

"An older, more experienced vampire that taught me and Meghann how to survive. His name was Alcuin." Charles's throat tightened when he thought of his mentor—thought of that saintly man and all the years they'd spent together.

"Why was he murdered?" Lee asked.

"Because of me," Meghann said tiredly, green eyes filled with tears.

"No!" Charles grabbed her close. "Don't you ever think that. Alcuin loved you, Meghann. He loved us both, and he wanted to save us from Simon Baldevar. And you know their enmity started long before either of us was born. At some point, Simon would have come after him anyway."

"Simon?" Lee was bewildered. "I thought you said he was dead—that Meghann put a poker in his heart."

Meghann gave him a twisted grin. "That was my mistake too, Lee. I assumed Simon would die because of my improvised stake. I didn't know the only way to kill a vampire is by cutting out its heart or decapitating it."

"So Simon didn't die?" Lee felt the back of his neck prickle in horror. Did that mean this awful thing that had tried to kill him when he was a child was still alive?

"No, he didn't die," Charles answered. "He bided his time and waited until about three months ago to attack. He killed Alcuin when he tried to protect Meghann. With Alcuin dead, it was easy to abduct Meghann and rape her."

"And kidnap Jimmy," Meghann put in, and the sad look in her eyes made Lee sure that must be the mortal lover Charles spoke of. "Charles and I got away but he took Jimmy and left me this awful letter saying he was planning to transform Jimmy—make him into some horrible creature I could never love. That was my punishment for taking a lover."

Lee flinched and took Meghann's icy hand. "I'm so sorry. Does Simon know where you are?"

"No—thank God. But he's got to be looking for me. You see, he raped me on Beltane. That probably doesn't mean anything to you but May first, on the ancient pagan calendar, was supposed to be the night for fertility. Simon chose the night he took me very carefully and he also performed a magical ritual to make sure I conceived his precious philosophers' stone."

"The philosophers' stone," Charles explained at Lee's baffled look, "was supposed to be a magic elixir that would provide freedom from disease, brilliance, and eternal life. Alchemists believed in it, and tried to create it, during the Middle Ages. Sounds like vampirism, doesn't it? A great many vampires—Lord Baldevar among them—believe that the philosophers' stone will be the blood of the offspring of two vampires and that drinking it will give vampires the ability to walk in daylight."

"You mean he's going to drink his own child's blood?" Lee was outraged.

"We don't think he'd kill his child," Meghann responded, voice thick with exhaustion. "He's wanted a child for a very long time—since he was mortal. A legacy, I guess. I think he would drink the blood but leave the child alive, but I can't be sure. He never saw fit to discuss any of this with me."

"Besides," Charles went on, "vampire pregnancy is extremely rare. The last documented case dates to the twelfth century."

"Do these cases describe the mothers' symptoms?"

"Don't get your hopes up," Charles told him and brought some floppy disks from a suitcase. "Basically, it's a bunch of hocus-pocus nonsense that completely ignores symptoms that would indicate diseases like preeclampsia to us."

"They didn't have floppy disks in the twelfth century," Lee said. "Where are the primary sources?"

"Ballnamore—an estate in Ireland. It belonged to Alcuin but in his will he left it to Meghann and me. It's our stronghold, where all the vampires that stand against Lord Baldevar gather together. Some of them have fought against him for four hundred years."

"So why aren't you there?" Lee asked. "Why are you in some hotel in Vegas? Surely these other vampires might have some ideas—"

"No!" Meghann interrupted and Lee thought she looked ready to faint.

"They don't like us," Charles explained, clutching his friend's hand.

"Why not?"

Charles gave him a bitter smile. "For me, it's good old-fashioned homophobia… can't stand a queer vampire in their midst. Alcuin despised that narrow-mindedness but he's not here to keep them in check and they're all furious because his will makes me his successor… me and Meghann together, that is."

"If they hate you for being gay, what's their reason for disliking Meghann?"

"Jealousy," Charles answered. "They couldn't stand the way Alcuin favored her… how he taught her everything he knew, even relied on her advice on a few occasions. They thought he was a fool for listening to a novice—I suppose I should explain that in our world anyone under one hundred years of age is considered a novice vampire. You can imagine their rage when his will named two vampires created in the twentieth century as his successors."

Lee frowned. "Being young isn't a good enough reason to hate anybody."

Meghann gave a bitter laugh. "Charles left something out. If I were merely young, they'd content themselves with treating me with disdain and contempt. They despise me because Lord Baldevar transformed me. They think that automatically makes me as twisted and evil as he is… it doesn't even matter to them that I tried to kill him. They'll never think of me as anything but Baldevar's slut… which is what they called me whenever Alcuin wasn't around. And if they knew I was pregnant, they'd never believe I was raped. God only knows what they'd do. They might try and kill me or they might use me as some kind of bait to lure Lord Baldevar into a trap."

"So I went to Ballnamore by myself and told them of Alcuin's death," Charles said. "I said Meghann hadn't come with me because she was too grief-stricken after Lord Baldevar kill… kidnapped Jimmy. And I snuck into the archives and copied down the information. Then, Meghann and I came here. No one is going to have any reason to think we're in Las Vegas. It's a perfect hiding spot from our so-called allies and Lord Baldevar while we try to make Meghann well." Charles paused and met Lee's eyes. "And you're here. We need you."

Lee frowned. "I may be an obstetrician but I don't know anything about vampires…"

"Somehow I didn't think you would," Charles said with a trace of a smile. "I can provide you with any information about a vampire's physiology that you need. We want you to perform an abortion. Not one mother has survived vampiric pregnancy, and the children that survived the birth were hideous monstrosities. Unfortunately, I can't bring myself to perform a D and C… put Meghann through that kind of pain even if I do know abortion is the only option—"

"What do you mean, put Meghann through pain?" Lee interrupted. "Wouldn't you anesthetize her first?"

"There isn't an anesthetic in the world to penetrate a vampire's bloodstream—it wouldn't take hold. But we sleep during the day. Actually, sleep is a mild word for our condition—it's closer to coma. Nothing disturbs us except an attack on our lives. Fledgling vampires might even sleep through that, but the stronger of us will wake up and some even manage to kill then-stalkers. But I digress… Lee, we think Meghann will sleep through a D and C. You're not threatening her life—"

"I'm threatening the fetus."

"Maybe," Charles responded. "But this is our only chance. Please, you're the only mortal doctor I… we can trust. Will you do a D and C on Meghann during the day?"

Lee glanced uneasily at Meghann's paper-white skin and blue-tinged fingernails and saw she'd fainted again. "She's in shock already, Charles. Invasive surgery… and keep in mind D and Cs carry a risk of hemorrhage… could kill her."

"This pregnancy will kill her anyway. Please, Lee," Charles implored.

"Let's bring her to my house," Lee said. "I can give her a thorough examination there. And you said sunlight will destroy you? Well, I think my house is just the place for you two. You know as an ob-gyn my hours aren't regular. So I fit the house with aluminum shutters to block out the sun so I could catch up on my sleep during the day."

Lee directed Charles to lay Meghann, who hadn't stirred during the brief journey from the hotel to his house, on the examining table and put her legs in the stirrups. A quick exam confirmed that she was eight weeks pregnant.

"How did you know you were pregnant?" Lee asked Meghann, who'd woken in time to yell in protest when Lee inserted the steel speculum for the pelvic exam. "Missed period?"

Meghann shook her head. "After I transformed, my menstrual cycle became erratic—once or twice a year, if that. No, about two weeks ago, I started waking up tired all the time and then my breasts became very tender. So I bought a home pregnancy test like any mortal woman."

Lee listened to her heartbeat and glanced in consternation at her jutting ribs. "Are you always this thin or did your weight loss coincide with your other symptoms?"

"I've lost about twenty pounds in the past week."

"Jesus!"

"Don't you see now why she needs an abortion?" Charles said.

"I agree the pregnancy is affecting her health," Lee replied. "But her malaise is precisely what's going to make an abortion so dangerous. I'd be much more comfortable with treating the worst of her symptoms, and letting her recover a little before having the abortion. An abortion can be performed safely up to twenty-four weeks into pregnancy—we have plenty of time. Have you any idea what's making her so sick?"

Charles shrugged helplessly. "All we know is she can't drink blood, and no vampire can survive without blood. It would be like starving a human."

Lee frowned. "What happens, Meghann, when you… er, drink blood? Has your appetite for it decreased since you got pregnant?"

Meghann gave him an admiring glance—she'd never seen a mortal accept vampires with such equanimity. Maybe it was because of what happened to him when he was a child or maybe he was simply in shock and hadn't fully absorbed the enormity of his discovery yet. "No, in fact I crave it constantly. It's all that's on my mind. But when I drink… a few minutes after I swallow, I become horribly nauseated. The first time it happened, I was just nauseated and a little dizzy. But now… now I throw up. What am I going to do if I can't digest blood?"

"Couldn't we give you transfusions?" Lee asked, and Charles shook his head.

"If we could accept transfusions, vampires would no longer be a threat to humans. Unfortunately, we must drink and digest."

"Why?" Lee asked, fascinated. "What happens when you digest blood?"

"It works much the same way absorption of B12 works in humans. We drink blood, and it travels through our stomach to our small intestines. Now, you know that in humans the B12 vitamin travels to the small intestine where it's absorbed by the ileum and transformed into proteins that are stored in the liver and kidneys before being transformed into enzymes that the human body needs to remain healthy. In vampires, after we transform, our ileum develops specialized tissues that transform antigens in the blood into an enzyme that doesn't exist in mortals. We discovered it about seventy years ago. That enzyme is responsible for our powers."

"What are your powers?" Lee asked. "Do you really live forever?"

"I'd have to answer yes in that I've only known vampires to die from unnatural causes—like decapitation and exposure to sunlight. No vampire, until Meghann, that is, has been struck down by illness. We are immune to all mortal diseases, we heal from blows like gunshot wounds in a matter of seconds…"

"How do you get this power?" Lee asked. "How do you become vampires?"

"You must be bled by a vampire to the point of death. Then, the vampire allows you to drink its blood. If you haven't been sufficiently drained of human blood, the vampire's blood poisons your system and you die quickly. But if you are drained, transformation begins. Your entire body, your whole genetic code, undergoes a radical change. Assuming you survive the process, you develop superhuman strength and the aging process stops. But if you don't have a steady diet of human blood to keep an acceptable level of the enzyme in your bloodstream, you die."

"So vampirism is purely biological," Lee mused. "After you transform, you drink blood to create this enzyme—"

"Not quite," Meghann interrupted. "We know the enzyme gives us our power, but we don't know why. We also don't know why an enzyme should make us cast partial reflections—"

"You really can't be seen in mirrors?"

"We present hazy outlines," Meghann said and gave him a slight smile. "Now, why would an enzyme do that? The answer is that it doesn't. There's more than pure science to us—there's the mystical side to vampirism and we have no way of explaining our mirror images or our ability to summon the dead, control and read mortal thoughts, our telekinetic power…"

"Meghann," Charles said at Lee's bemused, saucer-wide eyes, "we can go into all of this another time. Lee doesn't have to absorb it all tonight."

"No," Lee agreed, feeling much like Alice fallen down the rabbit hole—summon the dead? He shook off his horror and returned to the situation at hand. "Putting mysticism to the side, though, it sounds like Meghann has a simple vitamin deficiency. When… uh, humans become B12 deficient it leads to symptoms like hers… fatigue, weakness, weight loss. The pernicious anemia that occurs due to B12 deficiency isn't that uncommon in pregnancy."

"So if she expels the fetus, she should be able to digest blood again," Charles said.

Lee nodded. "But if I have any problems with the D and C tomorrow… if her blood pressure drops or she hemorrhages and I have to stop, we have to consider ways to help Meghann without terminating the pregnancy. In humans, we'd simply inject the patient with B12 since they aren't capable of extracting it from food. Is there any way to synthesize the enzyme you need… since Meghann can't extract it from blood?"

"Lee," Meghann said, "we've been trying for almost a century to synthesize that enzyme with no success. If we could make the enzyme, we wouldn't have to drink blood anymore. Right now, the only way to manufacture the enzyme is by drinking blood and I'm not able to do that anymore."

"So you see why abortion is the only option," Charles said but he was looking at Meghann instead of Lee.

Meghann nodded, but her eyes glistened. "You know how much I wanted to be a mother—it didn't even matter that it was Simon's baby."

"I know, honey," Charles replied, kissing her cheek. "It was hard for me too… knowing transformation meant I'd lost all hope of becoming a parent. But you know what would happen if you did give birth. You heard the accounts of those poor, malformed babies. It's settled. Tomorrow, Lee will give you the D and C."

"Wait," Meghann said, seeming to struggle to stay awake. "Lee, I'm very grateful for your help. But you must understand… Simon Baldevar wanted to get me pregnant. The last time we saw each other, he left me a letter saying he'd leave me alone until I came to him of my own free will but I don't believe that for a second. I think he believed that once I found out I was pregnant, I'd seek him out because I wouldn't know what to do." Meghann laughed bitterly. "Even if I could carry this baby to term, he'd be the last person I'd want around. But when he doesn't hear from me, he'll seek me out… he'll want to know if he succeeded in making me pregnant. If he finds out I had an abortion…" Meghann paled, breaking out in tremors that Lee thought had nothing to do with her illness.

"He'll kill her… and anyone who helped her do it," Charles finished.

Lee swallowed nervously. He might not be able to remember the evil thing that tried to kill him when he was a child, but the terror in both Meghann's and Charles's eyes was enough to make his mouth dry and his hands turn clammy.

"I don't care," Lee said and took Meghann's hands. "You saved my life and now I'll do my best to save yours." He helped her off the examining table, and directed Charles to carry her to one of the guest bedrooms—a large, cheerful room painted white with plenty of plants and wicker furniture.

"Try and get some rest," Lee said when Meghann was settled under the flowered quilt. "Hopefully, when you wake up tomorrow night, this will all be behind you."