Asylum: Prologue

PROLOGUE

It is the year One Thousand Two.
We prepare to make landfall at Clontarf, on the eastern shore of Ireland, some distance away near the horizon. I survey the longboat under my command, the warriors inside her, and ponder how little man has progressed in the thousand or so years since my nativity.
War is still so much a part of man's existence. But the technology he uses is still so much the same: Swords, spears, shields, arrows. The ships we sail in, though much sturdier, are still basically the same, a shell and a sail.
In this time and place, I am called Lars Nyman. My battle force of Viking warriors are all so confident that the Irish hordes under their leader, Brian Boru, would be the same fierce fighters we had encountered in other battles with them.
Boru, the High King of all Ireland, is a ferocious and worthy opponent. We—especially I—look forward with great enthusiasm to this battle and the glory we hope to attain.
As I work on the blade of my sword, running it along the honing stone to make sure the edge is razor sharp, I think about the many battles in which I have participated over the centuries. Though my memory is better than most, I have lost count of how many men fell nobly at the point of my sword. Others died less valiantly as the result of my hunger for blood.
A cool breeze, it feels good on my face. And I fill my lungs to capacity. Stretch the tenseness from my aching muscles.
Fate draws near. I can sense it. And it will not be long before we engage our enemy. A half an hour, maybe more. It is so difficult to tell in the hours before dawn with so little light, only that from the shielded oil lamps. Since the clouds are thick over us, there are no stars help to guide us.
Still, I can sense the enemy waiting for us.
I can smell them.
It is him.
He is there—Boru is—waiting for our mutual destiny.
Above us, the wind sustains the sail full-well with no flapping, and we maintain fair speed.
Now it is getting colder. The air is somewhat warm and refreshing, but with the wind and the speed of the boat, it feels almost cold. I know, however, that the shivering of the men is not the result of the temperature. Seeing no fear in my face, they do everything in their power to hide their fear from me. Regardless of their boasts, no matter how much they love the taste of battle, the anticipation of the impending battle strikes terror in their hearts.
Mortal men, no matter how strong and sure they are of their strength and courage, fear death. Even these brave Viking warriors.
Battle is always bloody, cruel and deadly, exposing all that is powerful and weak in men.
Swords flailing, cutting limbs off and slashing open gallant warriors.
Gaping, exposed wounds, entrails spilling from the corpses.
The stench of death.
Death...
That is the thing that is a constant companion for a Mortal warrior.
But not for me.
A creature of myth, am I, confined to roam the centuries alone. So much has been written of my kind. So many words. Of course, most of the legends are magnified and, for the most part, false.
Creatures such as myself, some of whom are my children, so to speak, are at times numerous. But our numbers dwindle in times where learning and knowledge decrease and superstition and religious fervor increase.
Such is the period in which I now find myself. I have not met one of my kind for over one-hundred and fifty...
Even with my incredible memory, I cannot remember the time or place. Maybe I do not wish, at this moment, with the battle ahead, to remember. Those whom I have made are gone.
All gone.
I do not even know for sure if I am not the end of my kind.
I am the first. But am I the last?
I thought to make my warriors into what I am, but there is now no time. And as the sun will so rise, my preternatural power will diminish. Essentially, I will be almost as mortal as the men I command.
My heart beats faster. My pulse thumps in veins. If for some strange reason I should fall, we will be no more . I can be killed, though it is not an easy thing to do. Not easy at all.
The shore is in sight.
Destiny awaits.
***
Slowly, almost reverently, Doctor Svenson closed the leather bound book.
Separated by so many centuries from the man he was in that time, he felt old and tired. Walking the earth for over two millennium was daunting by any standard. But he never tired of life, no matter what questions life posed.
Through the course of the seemingly endless years, he had amassed a sizable fortune. But that did not make him happy. He was still a slave to what he had become all those years ago. He was a slave to blood.














CHAPTER 1
Cole Archer’s natural way was to be alone. With few exceptions, he preferred his own company. Crowds bored him. It was when he was by himself, sitting at is piano, playing classics, just playing, that he felt secure.
“Can you come back to the world?” his kid sister said with a sardonic grin.
“Excuse me?”
“Look, as long as we have to drive to school together,” she said, (we might as well convo. Right?”
“What would you like to convo about?” he asked. How he hated Valley Speak. You’d think with the brain Tina had, she could not fall into that. But he did love her. She was truly the only person he genuinely loved.
“Shit,” she said, as she pulled a cigarette from the pack, popped it into her mouth and lit up, “stuff.”
“You’re only sixteen years old, dear sister,” he said, “you want to stunt your growth?”
“I’m as tall as I need to be,” she said with a salacious smile, licking her lips.
“Too much info, little sis,” he said, rolling his eyes.
Sitting in the back of the limousine, Cole fell into a state of melancholy. Gazing at the cheerleading outfit that Tina wore, his stomach began to revolt. How could a girl with such a creative and intelligent brain become a cheerleader? Tina amazed Cole. She could max the SAT even now without so much as attending a class or cracking a book. She could converse on the classics with the ease that she rambled on about the newest punk band, could sketch new fashions, things no one had ever seen before, then execute them in cloth in moments, seem to have all of the wisdom and knowledge of a Harvard PhD’s., then turn into a total kid, right before his eyes.
He had to let it alone. There was nothing he could do or say to stop her. And he did not want to do that anyway. Stunting her creativity was the worst thing he could do. It was what their parents tried to do all the time, and he hated that.
“You know, I think I’m going to start driving to school,” he said. “This limousine shit’s getting old.”
“You know my dad’s not going to go for that,” she replied. “With all the shit that’s going on with the campaign.”
“I don’t give a fuck about his campaign, Tina,” he said.
“Neither do I,” she replied, “but I’m surprised he hasn’t put us in home school. He’s so paranoid about kidnapping.”
“I’d run away.”
“Can I come with you?” she said, flashing her eyes coquettishly.
“You’re my only friend, so...”
When they reached Beverly Hills High School, the differences in their personalities became more and more apparent. Tina kissed him on the cheek and went off with her minions. Even as a freshman, she was a leader. People naturally followed her.
Cole walked off alone.
Forgotten.
Ignored.
Tina bounced off with her friends, cheerleaders, and made their way to the gymnasium for the pep rally.

***
Cole wandered the halls so deep in depression that the preparations for the big pep rally to celebrate the big game did not mean a thing to him. Something about the insignificance of the high school social happenings made absolutely no sense to him at all. Cool people only seemed to be cool people because they decided that they were cool. No one seemed to elect them; they elected themselves. The nerds, skaters, Goth types, computer geeks, and those less attractive than others, they seemed to fall into their own cliques almost in the same manner that the cool people became cool.
It was not that Cole did not have the looks to be cool; it was that he did not care to be. He certainly was innately cooler than the coolest in the school. He was brighter than most and got good grades with little effort. In every way but socially, he was gifted. In some ways, he would have traded all his gifts for the ability to get along with others. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his dress. He was somewhat preppie in a way. His hair was short on the sides, but somewhat long on the top. He liked preppie, but he also liked other styles. It depended on his mood.
Even his status would have guaranteed him a good place in the high school social hierarchy. His stepfather was a US Senator and came from a very wealthy family. His mother inherited a fortune from her own family.
Cole never dressed to suit anyone but himself. That is, except when his parents ordered him to dress in a certain way that benefited his stepfather. There were some concessions. On one side of his head, his hair was disheveled and on the other side, it was well groomed. It depended on from what angle you viewed him.
They lived in an amazing mansion that sat atop a hill in Beverly Hills. Servants cleaned Cole’s room, his car, his clothes, and made his meals. He wanted for nothing... But a life filled with love.
He never really liked his stepfather and felt that using him to gain a better social status seemed hollow and shallow. Of course, so was high school in Beverly Hills.
Mindlessly, Cole wandered into the music room and took a seat at the grand piano. Pep rally days were almost a free ticket to ditch class. And Cole took full advantage of that. One of the few things he truly enjoyed in life was playing piano. He loved how the sounds that the minds of great men created hundreds of years ago could go into his eyes and ears, through his fingers, into the piano then fill the air with the genius of the giants.
Touching the keys lightly, he let the sounds flow from his fingers. At first, he let the sounds find themselves, moving along in a series of contrapuntal melodies that seemed to know where to go. But soon, the sense of foreboding took over and he struck those fateful four notes that began the Symphony in C Minor by Beethoven. The Fifth Symphony was always his favorite, although he liked the First and the Ninth too.
Cole memorized everything upon one hearing, almost the way Mozart did, though he liked Beethoven more. He loved the tortured nature of his music. But soon, even the dulcet, morose tones of the great master no longer soothed him. That was rare, but he knew that the noise coming from the gymnasium made it more and more difficult to play, to enjoy, to escape.

***
From his temporary hiding place, sitting alone on a drum of cleaning fluid in a janitor's closet in Beverly Hills High School, he could hear the sounds of the pep rally in progress in the gymnasium. The cheers of the junior jocks and jockettes jumping up and down, trying to pump up the Junior Yuppies of America into an adolescent football frenzy, annoyed him. At least he would be spared having to watch them for a while.
He rarely smoked but always had a pack of safety matches in his pocket. Pyromania was his new hobby, and safety matches made the events much easier to accomplish.
Against the opposite wall was an open drum of paint thinner. Cole had opened it himself moments earlier. Pyromania had to be inventive to be fun and exciting. Just starting fires and watching them rage was the mark of a true amateur.
From the box of matches, he withdrew a single one, opened his mouth, and struck the match on his teeth. It ignited rather easily on the first try. The smell of sulfur filled the air. Another plus to safety matches, they gave off a stronger smell of sulfur. Some pyros would not think too much of that, but he thought it important. If you did not savor every part of a hobby, it was not really a hobby.
With focus and resolve of purpose, he aimed the flaming projectile and launched it towards he open container. End over end it tumbled through the air, the flame on the verge of going out. As the match neared its target, it was obvious that it would fall short of the mark. It struck the side of the can, inches short of the rim, and fell to the floor. The flames slowly flickered out and died.
"Shit."
Another match slipped between his fingers. Quickly, he threw it. This one was closer to its target, but also fell short.
Undaunted, Cole struck another match on his teeth and launched it towards the paint thinner. This one took a similar path as the others. The match did not tumble; it flew straight and sure. Soon it found its mark, landing in the center of the highly flammable liquid.
The force of the blast, as the paint thinner burst into flames, blew Cole off his seat. Quickly, he rose to his feet. For a moment, he was transfixed, staring at and studying the flame. He became part of the blaze, feeling the petals of fire as they bathed his body; the heat burned him and licked at his face. The spectacle of the fire hypnotized him for a moment.
Reality encroached on the enjoyment of this event. Soon the air grew thick with acrid smoke as the flames reached the plastic bottles and turned them into pillars of fire. Invisible, toxic substances began to fill the air, and the fire consumed the oxygen so rapidly that there would soon be none.
No matter how much Cole enjoyed watching the pyrotechnic dance, he would soon have to leave the closet or risk asphyxiation or incineration. Neither alternative appealed to him.
The flames leaped into the hallway as Cole exited the janitor's closet, slamming the door behind him as fast as was able. Sweat poured from his brow as he stood at the door and watched the smoke poured from the seams.
Cole had to pull himself away from the door and head back to the pep rally. Pyromania was most enjoyable when you could share it with others.
He looked down the corridor towards the gymnasium. The pep rally was going strong.
This would be a tasty day, he thought.
The smoke seemed to follow him like a friend.
A dangerous, hateful friend.















CHAPTER 2
With a sullen look on his face, Sebastian Gillium wandered out to the end of Santa Monica Pier. A cool sea breeze gave him a bit of a chill and the orange glare of the setting sun forced him to squint to protect his eyes. He had to fight back the tears that welled up in his eyes, but those tears did not come from the sun. The love of his life had gone.
Where was she? Who might have taken her? Was she even still alive?
Dear God that was one eventuality he did not even want to contemplate.
As he pondered the possibilities of what could have happened to her, his mind drifted back to happier times.
When he looked back on it, Nineteen thirty-nine looked to be a great year for Sebastian. Not since his parents died eight years earlier had his future seemed so bright. Growing up in an orphanage was never a great thing, but Sebastian made the best of it. He focused his efforts on study and graduated the top student in his class. Almost immediately, he secured a position with a local accounting firm and looked toward, eventually, attending college.
At that time, he wondered if his parent’s would have been proud of him, though in truth he barely remembered them. They died while making their way west in a train, trying to make a new life for the young family. Sebastian, while his parents were sleeping, wandered away through the moving cars. How it happened, no one ever knew. Perhaps a cigarette that had fallen from the hand of a sleeping man in one of the berths caused it. But a fire smoldered in the train. Slowly, smoke filled the cabin and in time, the fumes killed Sebastian’s parents and everyone else in the berthing car.
Sebastian had no living relatives and his parents worked so hard that they had no time for anything but tangential friendships. The little boy was alone in the worlds, and the only place for him was the orphanage.
Eight years yearning to escape the prison that had become his home fostered a work ethic that surprised the social workers who ran the orphanage. In addition to school, where he studied harder than any other orphan, he took a part time job after work. Once he saved enough money, he took a room in Hollywood. It was not much, but for the first time in years, he had a place of his own. He could go to sleep without the worry of hearing the nocturnal cries of the other unfortunates.
On his free time, Sebastian would wander the golden streets of Hollywood, hoping to get a glimpse of a star or two. He was not disappointed. Stars seemed to rain from the heavens in this magical town. So many of his childhood dreams were coming true. He had a job, a nice place to stay and a future that seemed full of life.
One thing was missing, one very important thing. Something he had dreamed about for years.
Of course, while in the orphanage, mixing with the opposite sex was frowned upon. No chance was left that would allow the orphans to break the rules of the Church. And even after he left, work and school were his main interests. There would be time for romance when he graduated.
Sebastian focused himself on his future then, attending classes at the University of California, where his high school grades garnered him a scholarship. And at that time, romance was not part of his curriculum. He decided that he would focus on that part of his life after he finished with school.
New Years Eve came all too quickly and Sebastian decided to enjoy the warmth of the noonday sun near the shore before returning home to join his other co-workers in a New Years party.
Feeling most successful, dressed in his finest, he wandered the seastrand amongst all the others who had the same idea as he. As he planned his future, he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. Her blonde hair flowed from under her beautiful had and covered her shoulders. As she turned, ever so slightly, he could see her face, beautiful and white, barely ever touched by the light of the sun.
No matter what he did, he could not take his eyes off her. Even if he never even spoke to her, he would thank the heavens that he had the privilege to even see her. No work of art in the world, no masterpiece, would come close to her.
He almost froze in his tracks as she turned to lock her gaze on him. At first, he did not know what to do. There she was, looking straight at him. As the tension built to an almost unbearable level, she smiled. It was the warmest, sweetest, most inviting smile he had ever seen.
For a moment, she turned away, but just as quickly, she turned back and smiled even more than before. After a moment, she turned to speak with the people with her. Sebastian assumed that they were her parents, but he was not sure.
Sebastian watched as she moved her way up Santa Monica Boulevard, eventually heading down onto the Santa Monica Pier. He followed her, wondering if she truly wanted him to follow. Every so often, she would turn back to see if he was still there.
He was not the most socially adept individual in the world, but if that was not a sign of interest, he did not know what one was.
Slowly, he followed her, moving off rapidly, but not too rapidly. He did not want to appear too anxious. Butterflies jumped in his stomach as he got closer to her. What made the feeling worse was that she seemed to be slowing her pace a bit to match his.
She walked up to the rail at the end of the pier and looked out to sea as Sebastian closed in. He stood a few feet away from her, looking, as she did, out to sea. His heart thumped in his chest and his breathing was rapid, far too rapid. He did his best to control his body, trying to force the words he wanted to speak to come out of his mouth. He had come too far and made his interest far too obvious to turn back now. He had to break the ice.
“Rather warm for December, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes, it is,” she replied with a smile, that warm smile that he already loved. “But I love it.”
“Me too,” he said, struggling to continue the fledgling conversation. “I love it here too.”
“It is lovely,” she said as she took a deep breath.
“Are you here with your parents?”
“Yes,” she said. “We live in Santa Monica, so we come down here often.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“I live in Hollywood,” he said.
“Wow, that must be exciting,” she said, moving a little closer to him. “Do you see movie stars there?”
“Sometimes, I do,” he replied. “Last week I saw Tyrone Powers and Boris Karloff all in the same day. I was on my way to lunch and there they were, big as life.”
“That’s swell,” she said with a girlish giggle. “I love the movies.”
“Me too,” he said as he moved a little closer to her. “Maybe we can, I mean, if you want to, go see one together sometime. I mean, the Chinese Theater is right down the block from where I live,” he blurted out, almost before he knew what he was saying.
“I’d love to,” she said, all too quickly.
“Oh, great. Do you think it would be all right with your parents?”
“I’m sure it would be,” she said. “You seem harmless enough.”
Sebastian did not know what to make of that statement, but the hurt appeared on his face almost instantly.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said immediately as she saw the look of defeat on his face. “I didn’t mean it that way. You know what I mean, don’t you? I mean, parents, they’re a tad protective about their children. You can see that, right? I mean, your intentions are honorable, right? That’s all.”
“I see. It’s OK,” he said. Thrusting his hand out, he said, “Where are my manners? My name is Sebastian Gillium.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian,” she said. “My name is Rose. Rose Doheny,” she said as she offered her hand to him.
As she kissed her hand, he said, “It’s nice to meet you too, Rose. “Your name is as beautiful as you are.”
“Well, thank you, Sebastian. You’re too kind,” she said as she moved even closer to him. “Sebastian is an interesting name.”
“It’s an old family name.”
She considered what he said for a moment and said, “I like Sebastian. It’s a good name, Sebastian and Rose. They go well together, don’t you think?”
What a sign that was, he thought.
“They do work, don’t they?”
There was almost no space between them since they had moved so close together.
“Would you like a glass of lemonade?” he asked as he spied a vendor only a few paces away.
“That would be great,” she said as he led her toward the vendor. As they enjoyed their refreshing drink, Sebastian told her his life’s story. She seemed to be falling in love him and he with her. She was impressed by his self-starting nature. He was like her father, a self-made man. She fully expected him to be as successful as her father and she knew that about him from the start.
Lemonade in hand, they strolled off down to the entrance to the pier.
Over the ensuing months, Rose and Sebastian, nearly inseparable from that moment on, become closer than two people could ever be, as if they knew each other before they met, that the fates decided that they should meet that day. Their futures were inexorably linked in time. Even Rose’s parents accepted Sebastian without question. When Sebastian was not working, and when Rose was not in school, they were together.
Several months later, when Sebastian asked Rose’s father, George, for her hand in marriage, Mr. Doheny, well aware of his daughter’s desires, approved of the match. He could see what Rose saw in Sebastian, and so totally approved of him that he offered his future son-in-law a job in his own company.
The two lovers were living a dream, floating on clouds as they finally picked a date, a June wedding.
Mrs. Doheny, Lucy, helped with the arrangements. She was the consummate socialite and she was so much in her depth as she threw herself into arranging the grand show with all the fervor of a movie director.
While Lucy was about her preparations with Rose, George broke in his new apprentice. George made a fortune in oil in Los Angeles and wanted to teach his apt pupil the exigencies of the business world. Not only did he give Sebastian a wonderful position, he also trebled the salary he received at his previous employment. What else could he do for the future father of his grand children? Working harder than he ever had, Sebastian advanced quickly, proving himself and George’s faith in him.
Seeing that Sebastian truly was the right man for his daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Doheny bought them a new house, and it was only three doors down from their own. It was a beautiful house, with room for children. The two lovers would spend hours decorating, of course, with Mrs. Doheny’s help. They spared no effort to make sure the honeymoon cottage, so to speak, was ready for the future newlyweds to move in on time.
Almost every day, Sebastian had to pinch himself to make sure that what he was living was not a dream. Everything seemed to be going just swell, as Rose was fond of saying. He was happier than he had ever been in his entire life. How could a guy like him be as lucky as he was? That was all that he thought.
While walking on Santa Monica Pier, as was their habit when they had free time and weather permitted, they came upon a young man with a portrait camera. He was taking photographs of the pier and the people who walked her boards. Seizing the moment, Sebastian suggested that they have their portrait taken. Rose readily agreed and they posed for the photographer. He handed the man a ten-dollar bill, a sizable sum in those days, and gave him the address to which he should send the finished photograph.
As they walked off the pier, they stopped and turned toward the setting sun. Sebastian kissed her gently on the lips and looked into her eyes. “Rose, I want to be with you forever,” he said, so full of love for her.
“Me too, my love,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. “Forever.”
Christmas soon approached. Sebastian and Rose looked forward to many more together. He had not had a family Christmas in years and so wanted to share a family Christmas dinner with the love of his life.
For days, Sebastian roamed the streets of Los Angeles searching for the perfect gift. With money burning a hole in his pocket, he found the perfect piece. It was a gold necklace with a silver and gold locket at the bottom. Inside, he would put a smaller sized version of the photograph they had taken on Santa Monica Pier. Every day waiting to give Rose his gift was sublime torture. He could not wait to place the locket in her hand, and then put it around her sweet, beautiful neck.
Christmas Eve was the next day, and Sebastian rode home with Mr. Doheny after the office Christmas party to make preparations for the family festivities. The tree had been decorated and all the food ordered, ready to be prepared and enjoyed. How could life get any better, thought Sebastian?
As he and Mr. Doheny pulled into the long winding driveway, discussing business, as was their habit, they both noticed Mrs. Doheny, and one of the servants, standing at the front door. A frantic look covered their faces as they waited for the car to slow to a halt.
Both Sebastian and Mr. Doheny got out of the car and immediately went to the front door.
“Oh, dear George,” Lucy exclaimed as she fell into her husband’s arms.
“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked with all due compassion.
“Oh, my dear George, it’s Rose,” she said with an even graver look in her aspect as she regarded both her husband and Sebastian.
“What’s the matter with Rose?” Sebastian asked with near terror in his voice, not able to get the information out of Mrs. Doheny. He could see that it was something serious, but he did not know what.
“Rose didn’t come home from school today,” Mrs. Doheny said as she fell into a profound sobbing.
Sebastian did his best to remain calm as Mr. Doheny took control. It was not Rose’s habit to be tardy, especially since she and Sebastian became and item. It was her normal custom to get home from school as rapidly as possible to wait for Sebastian to return from work.
“Well,” said Mr. Doheny, doing his best to not panic, though he feared that something horrible had befallen his eldest daughter. But he did not want to panic the others, especially Sebastian. “Well, let’s not panic right now,” he said as he smiled and looked directly into his wife’s eyes. (I’m sure she just got together with some of her friends, whom she will not see for some weeks due to the Christmas holiday, and time got away from her.”
“But, George,” she began.
“But nothing, my dear,” he said, stifling her protests, with a fatherly tone and resolve. “We’re not going to panic. We’ll assess the situation first, call the police if necessary, then decide the proper course of action.”
“All right, George,” she replied, trying to compose herself.
“Are we agreed, Sebastian?”
“Yes, Mr. Doheny,” he said, deferring to, and putting his faith in the only father figure he had known in years.
What a day that was, Sebastian thought to himself as he lit a cigarette, a habit he picked up in the time after Rose disappeared. Now, almost a month had passed. His habit picked up with every passing day and now he was up to almost a pack and a half a day.
No one had heard a thing. The police knew less now than they did when first alerted. Many people saw Rose leave school. She took the same familiar path she had taken every day, and disappeared down the road. She loved to walk to and from school. It gave her time to herself, time to think, dream, dream of her knew life, the one on which she would soon embark.
It seemed now that the dreams about which she and Sebastian mused would never happen. Although the police continued asking their questions, and although the searched here and there, the trail was growing cold by the day.
Sebastian went to work every day, as was his custom, but the stress of the situation wore on him. When he was not at work, he would wait at the Doheny house until late in the evening, eating a silent dinner with the Dohenys. At times, he would fall asleep in a room they had prepared for him, and other times he would simply remain awake all night, dragging his worn and haggard body into work.
It was a wonder that the Doheny’s were able to function at all. Mrs. Doheny would cry here and there, mostly spending time in Rose’s room, rearranging things, making the room ready for her return. The other children walked around on eggshells, not knowing what to do, but also missing their older sister terribly.
Mr. Doheny maintained his stoic resolve to help keep the family together and kept his crying private. Sebastian was the same way. He admired Mr. Doheny’s ability to control his emotions. One day, at work, Sebastian took a sheaf of papers to Mr. Doheny’s office for his signature.
Alone in the office, Mr. Doheny wept softly to himself, a picture of Rose in his hands. Normally, Sebastian did not have to knock on the door before entering, unless Mr. Doheny was in a private meeting, but the secretary simply nodded to Sebastian as he strolled into the office. In retrospect, he wished he had knocked.
As Mr. Doheny noticed Sebastian standing near the door, he took a handkerchief and wiped his eyes clear of the tears. At first, both men could not find words to speak, but then, no words were really necessary. Sebastian and Mr. Doheny sat together for hours. They talked about Rose mostly. Mr. Doheny told Sebastian that if being around the family was too difficult for him, that he could take time off from work. But he also told him that he valued Sebastian’s work and friendship in every way. Sebastian told him that he would stay, that he loved working for Mr. Doheny, and that the family was the only one he had. The two men bonded in a way he never thought they would, but that did not help to ease the pain he felt. They were now friends, but Rose was still gone, and both men mourned her loss in a terrible way.
Sebastian would continue with the firm as long as he could.
Later, as he often did, Sebastian walked down to the Pier. He found his way to the end, the place where he and Rose first spoke. He felt close to her there, and hoped that, somehow, she would appear to him as mysteriously as she vanished. However, as much as he tried to keep up his spirits, as much as he tried to maintain hope that Rose would return, each passing day without word from her chipped away at his hope.
Each moment without word numbed his soul a little more. Hours had passed since he came to the pier. He was starving, but had no appetite. And he realized that night had fallen. He was alone on the end of the pier.
Strange, even though he was alone, he felt as if he was not. Someone was there, he thought as he flicked his cigarette into the water. At first, he thought he was going insane with grief, but he sensed someone was there. Stranger than that, he felt as if he could smell Rose’s perfume. The scent was palpable and filled the swirling air at the end of the pier.
He must be going crazy, he thought.
“Sebastian?” The voice sang out of the shadows.
“Who is it?” he snapped back, as his heart raced in his chest. “Who’s there?”
Slowly, as if floating on air, Rose moved out of the shadows.
“Rose? Rose!” he yelled as she practically slammed her into an embrace.
“Sebastian, my love,” she said as she held him closely.
“Where have you been?” he asked as his eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t know how to tell you, Sebastian,” she said through her own tears.
“I’m so glad you’re here, my love,” he cried.
“Me, too, my dear sweet one,” she said, holding him more tightly than ever.
Breaking the embrace, but taking Rose’s face gently in his hands, Sebastian kissed her lips, then said, “Your mother and father have been worried sick about you. Your brothers and sisters too. Where have you been?”
“It’s so hard to explain, Sebastian,” she said mournfully. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“At the beginning would always be a good place,” he said as they both took as seat on the bench by the rail. “We should go home, Rose. Your parents would be so relieved.”
Rose’s eyes closed for a moment, she looked away, then back to Sebastian. She took his hands in hers. Her eyes filled with tears once more and her chin quivered; she fought hard not to cry, and said, (I won’t be going home, Sebastian.”
“What do you mean?” he said. “You won’t be going home?” Sebastian snapped. “Where will you go? What will you do? What’s going on Rose? What’s this all about?” he demanded, frantically.
“I can’t explain right now, my love,” she cried. “It’s so complicated.”
“Rose, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m sorry, my love. I truly am.”
“If you’re not coming home, why’d you come back?”
“When we talked, not too long ago, right over there,” she said as she pointed to the place where they had their picture taken. “You said that we’d be together forever. Do you still feel that way?”
“Of course I do!”
“Do you still love me?”
“I never stopped, Rose! I’ll love you forever,” he said with all sincerity. “Do you still love me?”
“With all my heart and all my soul, forever,” she said as she kissed him softly, and then wrapped her arms around him.
They walked off into the night together, never to see her parents or family again...
Ever.

***
Sitting on an antique oak throne, Sebastian, dressed in a black trench coat, holding a black cane with a sliver ball and silver tip in his right hand and a silver goblet in the other. A crestfallen look covered his face as he watched his friends dance around a huge bonfire at the center of the courtyard to a tribal, techno beat. In years past, he would have joined in, but he had not much felt like partying. When he was able to push Rose’s memory to the back of his mind, he could enjoy himself. But those moments were rare. He had lost her twice, and the second time she did not come back.
Since the day he and Rose walked off together from the Santa Monica Pier, they had lived in the Asylum. That is what the patients there affectionately called Holly Grove Memorial Hospital. In the classic sense of the word, they were not really patients. They stayed there voluntarily.
There were reasons why they stayed. It was free. They did not have to work. Almost all of them, at one time or another, were on a missing persons list. Most of them had now long since been forgotten by their loved ones, many of whom were dead, or assumed that the missing were dead. It was a place to vanish, to remain young forever.
“Sebastian, where are you?” Kari Robertson said, as she walked up to his side. Flipping her shoulder-length blonde hair out of her eyes, she sat down next to him. For the last twenty-five years, since Rose left, Kari had been his closest companion. Not like girlfriend and boyfriend, but very close friends. She was one of the few people with whom he had in depth conversations. “You look like you’re on another planet.”
“Sometimes I wish I was,” he said, offering nothing more to the interrogatory.
“It’s almost sunrise,” she said.
Slowly, he smiled, baring his enlarged canine teeth. Gazing skyward, he could see the fingers of sunlight as they traced their way over the eastern horizon. “What would I do without you?” he said.
“Burn to death in the sunlight,” she said, smiling, baring her own fangs.
“Very funny.” Slowly, he climbed down from his throne, put his arm around her, and headed toward the door. (Do I tell you enough how much you mean to me?”
“Nope.”
“You’re my closest friend.” Almost magically, the music stopped and the rest of the kids filed inside.

***
Sebastian sat on his bed in his room.
Soulfully, sadly, his eyes moved from one memento to another. Photographs littered the walls. Remembrances of all the friends he had made in his life. This had been the place where he had lived for the past eight decades.
















CHAPTER 3
The campus at the University of Southern California at Los Angeles was a bustle of activity.
Dr. Erick Svenson, a very tall, very suave, educated, and sophisticated man in his early-forties, parked his Porsche 911, and gathered up his brief case and a medium sized covered painting. After closing and locking the door, he stood outside in the bright, California sunshine. After carefully donning his sunglasses, he looked up at the shining star for a moment, and then headed off towards the building in front of him.
Svenson swooped into the classroom with continental, European style, placed his brief case and books on desk to the lectern, and said, "Sit down, ladies and gentlemen. We have much to cover today."
The chatter died down quickly, the students took their seats, and gave their undivided attention to the teacher.
"Beginning today, and for the next couple of weeks, we will be discussing the one of the most enigmatic and mysterious characters of European folklore...” He pulled the painting onto the desk top, and whisked off the cover. The painting was of Vlad Tepes, better known as...
Dracula.
Most of the students did not recognize the face on the canvas.
"Who the hell's that?" one of them asked.
Another more studious-looking student, John Carver, looked at him with disdain and said, "It's Dracula, stupid."
A murmur traveled through the class.
"Not so stupid, Mr. Carver. Not very many people know this face." He placed the painting on an easel and walked to the front of the lectern. He looked over the class and said, "Question... Was Dracula real?"
"Yeah, his name was, Bela Legosi," Chrissy Wilson, a pretty young coed interjected with what she thought was a Hungarian accent.
The rest of the class laughed aloud. Svensson smiled knowingly and moved to quiet the class without being too authoritarian. "In fact, Dracula did exist, though he was not Bela Legosi, as Ms. Wilson erroneously asserted. Also, he was not from Transylvania as depicted in Bram Stoker's novel and the many other books and films based on the character. He was a ruthless, bloodthirsty, Fifteenth Century, warrior prince from the Romanian province of Wallachia.
"His real name was Vlad Tepes. Translated, it means Vlad the Impaler."
"The Impaler," John Parker questioned from the back of the classroom.
"The preferred method of executing captured enemies." With relish he continued, "He would impale them on a blunt, rounded stake; there the condemned would remain until they expired. That often took days, if you can believe that."
The class recoiled as he showed another picture of an execution scene, where several hundred of Dracula's enemies writhe in pain, impaled by the sadist. In the portrait, Vlad Tepes sat at a table, eating a large feast. Surrounded by the dead and dying.
Emily Carter, a diminutive sophomore dressed like a punk rocker starred at the painting, straining to see the image, and asked, "What is he doing, Dr. Svensson? It looks like he's eating."
"Old Vlad had a singular preoccupation with death and dying. It is said, and this painting reflects that point, that he would often sit amongst the condemned and feast while they died."
"That's gross," Ms. Wilson interjected with a look of disgust on her face.
"Was he a vampire?" Emily asked with heightened curiosity.
"Although he did drain copious amounts of blood from his enemies, Emily, I'm sorry to tell you that he was, alas, not a vampire."
"What was he?" Harper queried.
"Are you brain dead, John?" Emily sneered at him. "He was just a whacked-out killer.
"You could say that, Emily," Svensson said, and continued, "But what he was, Mr. Harper, was a bloodthirsty, Fifteenth Century, warrior prince from the Romanian province of Wallachia."
The entire class laughed a little, and Svensson joined in as he headed back to the lectern and announced, "When I'm finished with this series of lectures, you may doubt whether or not vampires are simply the subject suited only for novels and movies." He became more serious and continued, "Or whether you should all begin hanging garlic around your windows and doors, lay in a collection of crucifixes, stakes and hammers." He opened a book he placed on the lectern and said, "Let's begin by turning in your essays from last week."
The class sighed collectively as they reluctantly reached for their papers.
















CHAPTER 4
Raymond T. Archer had married Cole's mother, Lacy, five years after Cole's real father, Clayton W. Staves, died in an auto accident.
C.W., as Clayton was known to his friends, was from Virginia, and had moved to San Francisco in 1969; actually, some hippies he met at Woodstock kidnapped him. He was an artist, a real artist; so were the hippies. They painted their way across the USA.
Lacy Goorman was only in high school when she met C.W. She was innocent to say the least. He was very handsome, larger than life, and was more than experienced in the carnal arts. She gained more experience than she had ever expected, or intended, to gain during the summer of 1970; Cole was born a year later.
They were the hit of the Los Angeles art world when they opened a gallery in Beverly Hills three years later. Lacy ran the day-to-day operations—she was a natural manager—while C.W. was in charge or producing commercial masterpieces as fast as he could, and schmoozing the stuff-shirt Los Angeles art community. Hippie art, they called it.
C.W. was always concerned that he had sold out to the establishment, but the money was too good to pass up. After all, he had a wife and son to take care of. That took money. He had sold out. But it was not so bad. He was no longer a hippie. For her part, Lacy never got into being a hippie, so the money looked very good to her.
Cole was only seven when Clayton Staves died, but he remembered how much fun he had had with him. C.W. really knew how to live. It was too bad that he really did not have the chance.
In the beginning, his mother told him stories about his father, but after Lacy remarried, she felt that it was a good idea that he get used to the idea that he had a new father, a father who was alive.
Cole always had trouble with that concept. Why could he not have a stepfather and the memories of his real father? He was able to live with his father's death until people around him tried to take him away entirely. He became bitter and withdrawn.
His stepfather was a successful lawyer and well respected in the Los Angeles business community; and it was no surprise to anyone when he ran for, and was elected to, the United States Senate by a landslide victory. Now, the election for president loomed in November and it would tear Cole’s life once more. If the poles were correct, and the Senator’s popularity held up, in three months, he would be forced to move three thousand miles to the east. Washington D.C. Lovely place. Cold as shit in the winter and hot as balls in the summer.
“Kill me now,” Cole said.
The Senator’s personality was practiced, polished, and calculated. Every movement was made and executed for maximum effect; no motion, no word, no inflection was wasted. Cole called him the automaton behind his back. How could he be expected to get used that?
He looked out over the patio at the sea of humanity in front of him.
People he hardly knew, and almost never saw, descended on the Archer Estate like vultures to carrion. The driveway had filled shortly before lunch, which of course was catered.
Cole paid the obligatory greetings to the nearly forgotten faces. How he hated the farce, to put up a facade simply to make his stepfather look good.
Nevertheless, he played along. Being a senator's son had certain advantages: money, great cars, a beautiful mansion in Beverly Hills, and the best of all: two grand pianos, one of which was in his bedroom. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Just get through the day, he thought to himself. Just get through it.
The best caterers in the Los Angeles served a lunch that was as enormous as its price tag was large. They even had a sushi chef. Raw fish? Disgusting.
His mother had assigned the table seating so that she could show her children off to her friends. Cole sat next to his little sister, Tina. She was sixteen years old and already a knockout. Beautiful green eyes jumped out from her cherub face; and long strands or honey blond hair rolled down the sides of her cheeks. Long ago, she had eschewed the tanning craze since she did not want to have leather skin when she got older. When she wanted a tan, she paid to have one sprayed on. In almost every way, she was Cole’s best friend and ally in the Archer manor. She was the only person in the world about whom he really cared. And he was the only person in whom she could confide.
The topics of the conversations on the patio were diverse and varied, ranging from money and politics, fashions, music, and back to money and politics. All of it sincerely bored both Cole and Tina.
Someone, some wealthy old aunt he thought, but was not sure, brought up the topic of the fire at Beverly Hills High. "The police," she said," suspect arson and have clues."
The sound of her voice was disgusting enough to make anyone sick, but the statement was more than enough for Cole. He excused himself, complaining that his stomach bothered him; which it truly did. He headed for the house, holding his belly and looking quit unwell.
The Senator became annoyed at his stepson's untimely departure, but let no one see his dismay.
Cole's bedroom was larger than most small middle-class houses, and large enough to accommodate a nine-foot grand piano.
His single greatest passion in life was his music. He preferred Nineteenth Century, German, piano music the best. By far, the music of Ludwig Von Beethoven had the greatest influence on him. He loved the moodiness, the emotion, the color, the taste of the music.
He looked out the window for a moment at the party below. He was happy to have escaped, even for a moment.
Feeling better, he sat down at the piano and began to play the first movement of the Moonlight Sonata. He knew it was a cliché that even non-music-lovers knew the piece, but he loved it so much that he just had to play it until it was perfect; or at least as perfect as he could make it. He had not even attempted to perfect the second and third movements; he could not move on to them until he had done justice to the first.
His fingers positioned themselves on the keyboard. He began to play. The dulcet, moody, and somber triplet opening floated through the air.
It was so easy now, he thought. Where did this music come from? He was not just playing the notes. He could feel it. This was special music, such that had never come from him before. It was sweet, delicious music.
It was not yet perfect, he reminded himself, but it was Beethoven.
Secret Service Agents moved through the crowd, attempting to be as unobtrusive as Secret Service Agents could. All he could think of was what it was going to be like after the election. He would be a prisoner in the White House.
While Cole reveled in musical nirvana in his room, the party plodded along on the patio. Judge Wilson B, Abraham, Raymond Archer's former law partner, close friend and political ally, sat at the Senator's table. Abraham was in his late fifties, totally gray and an imposing man. He was a legal intellectual who spent the last fifteen years as a judge. The Party fully expected him to be nominated to the California States Supreme Court when an opening occurred.
Between bites of food, Abraham talked about the Beverly Hills High School fire. "There were so many clues, Ray," he said, then swallowed his food. "It was as if this guy wanted to get caught."
"How close are they to an arrest? Any suspects?"
"I heard they know who it is," he said as he sipped his wine. "As soon as they're sure, they'll move on it."
"When?" Raymond said, impatiently. "This is a potential political football. One I don't want to have to catch."
"Keep calm, Ray,” he said. “It could be any day now. Any minute in fact."
“When they catch the little firebug,” Ray said, “they ought to throw the entire book at him. They should never allow children to get away with things like this. And the parents, well, they should suffer too.”
“I’m sure they will, Ray.”
Tina sat in her chair, growing bored with the conversation. Turning her gaze upward, she looked towards the upper level of the house and heard her brother playing in his room. Without saying a word, she extricated herself from the situation and headed towards the music.
Cole played on, seemingly unaware that Tina was standing behind him at the door. She adored her brother and his music, although she really did not understand him. Her father was always preoccupied with politics and money to be concerned with a daughter, and his mother seemed to be with some social group or another. The only time they really paid attention to her or Cole was when it was useful politically or socially.
Cole told her that their mother was not always so distant. She was once a loving and tender person. Something changed in her when she married the Automaton. Raymond Archer, for his part, seemed to be born to politics and social climbing. He was who he was, and unfortunately, Tina would have to accept that.
She paused for a moment before entering. With a smile stretched across her face, she walked across the room towards her place next to the piano so Cole could see her while he played. Cole played even better that his favorite audience had arrived.
The melodic accompaniment wound its way through the widest range of emotions, up and down the scales; smooth arpeggios lines gave a hint of hope, only to settle back down to melancholy. A seductive melody compelled the player and captivated the listener.
Off in the distance, Cole could see cars entering the gates at the end of the long, serpentine driveway at the bottom of the hill. These guests were certainly not invited.
The music...
It was the best Cole had ever played. Beethoven himself would have been proud.
As the last note of the coda slowly diminished and faded out, Cole looked out at the two cars that had just entered the grounds. One was an unmarked sedan and was obviously an official vehicle; who but the State would choose to purchase such a boring car. The other bore the insignia of the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department.
Two men got out of each car. Cole walked to the window and watched his stepfather, Judge Abraham and the others approached the cars. Two men in suits handed some papers to the Senator. Bewildered, he opened and read them.
"What's happening, Cole?" Tina asked as she joined her brother at the window.
Raymond T. Archer looked up at Cole's window with a mixture of shock and anger in his eyes.
Cole knelt down, kissed his little sister on the forehead, and said, "Guess the party's over, Sis." He hugged her and left the room without saying another word.
Tina turned back to the window. She watched as Cole walked towards the Sheriff's Deputies. They cuffed him and placed him the Sheriff's car.
Raymond Archer, angered and embarrassed, slammed the door shut on his stepson before the Sheriff's Deputies could close the door.
Judge Abraham tried to calm his friend as the cars drove off down the driveway.

***
Jackson Richards, the prosecutor, marched up and down in the nearly empty courtroom. (I find this highly irregular, Your Honor,” he barked out impertinently, (that you are presiding over this issue!”
(Why is that, Mr. Richards?” Judge Abraham asked.
(Well, Your Honor,” Richards replied, smiling, baffled, (is it not true that you and Senator Archer are former law partners?”
(It is true.”
(Isn’t it true that you and Senator Archer are close friends?”
(That’s true as well.”
Nonplused, Richards struggled to fathom the judge’s response. (You Honor, don’t you think that this constitutes a conflict of interest for you to judge this matter?”
(I know every influential judge in California, Jack,” Senator Archer said, a smug look on his face. (You’d be hard pressed to find a judge who hasn’t been to my house. I’m sure, when you become a judge, you’ll come to my house too.”
(Now see, Your Honor,” Richards said, growing red in the face, (that’s what I’m talking about! This man thinks he can use his power to do anything he wants!”
Martin Wells, Cole’s attorney, jumped to his feet and said, (Your Honor, there can be no question that Senator Archer is an influential man.”
Raymond and Lacy Archer sat in the gallery. Cole sat beside Richards at the defense table.
"Your Honor," Richards blurted out, "Cole Archer committed a most heinous and irresponsible crime. He should be tried as an adult!"
Wells jumped to his feet again and said, "Your Honor, this is a teenage prank that got out of hand! Nothing more!"
"Are you crazy?” Richards said. (He's a kid! A misunderstood kid."
The battle began anew.
Judge Abraham slammed his gavel down with such force that the handle nearly broke in two, and said, “Hold it! Enough!" The gavel came down with a resounding crack. "Just hold it! Both of you!" He had had enough. He paused for a moment, then said, "In my chambers. All of you! Now!"
Everyone in the courtroom snapped to attention and headed towards the door at the head of the courtroom, with the exception of Cole who sat impassively, seemingly unimpressed by the whole thing. After a moment, Judge Abraham stuck his head through the doorway and said, "You too, Mr. Archer."
"Anything you say, Judge," he said as he stood and headed towards the open door.

***

Abraham closed the door behind Cole and showed him to his seat. He then moved behind his desk, doffed his robes and took a seat.
"Firstly," he said as he acquired a pill from a bottle in the top drawer of his desk, and washed it down with single gulp of water, "the bullshit stops now!" He paused for a moment, the said, "This is a closed proceeding. You don't need to put on a show for me. I'm not impressed by it."
"But, Your Honor..."
"Hold it right there, Mr. Richards," Abraham said, cutting him off. "All of you, listen to me. The next one who talks out of turn gets slapped with a contempt citation. Understood?"
They all nodded.
"This is a very delicate situation we have here. A young man's future is at stake," Abraham said.
"Your Honor?" Richards said, delicately, knowing full-well that the Judge was more than serious about his admonition.
"Yes, Mr. Richards."
"I understand that a young man's future is at stake, but arson is a very serious offense. The fire which Cole Archer set caused hundreds of thousands of dollars of damage and could have killed hundreds of people."
"I agree that the crime is most grievous," Mr. Wells interjected, ever aware of the Judge's reactions, "but there are more important issues to consider here."
"Like what?" Richards asked.
"Like the fact that my client has no prior criminal record, not even a ticket for jaywalking."
"Point well taken, Mr. Wells," the Judge said, and countered, "but there is an issue which you two seem to be ducking."
"What would that be, Your Honor?" Richards asked.
"Like that fact that you have designs on Raymond Archer's Senate seat. When he’s elected president, you want to be appointed to his senate." He stood and looked out the window for a moment, then turned back and said, "I'm not going to let you turn this into a political battle."
"What about your bias, Your Honor?"
"Mr. Richards, you risk a contempt citation for even insinuating that."
Richards sank back down in his seat and said, "I'm sorry, Your Honor." The Judge – and Richards knew it – never let politics into his courtroom.
Senator Archer interjected, "Your Honor, what, exactly are our options?"
"Well, if I decide to try Cole as an adult, and if he is found guilty—and you would be found guilty, son—there would have be some jail time. And I would not be able to keep your name out of the media. I don't want that to happen," the Judge said as he sat down again. "However, if you plead guilty to a lesser charge, let's say: reckless endangerment..."
Richards squirmed in his seat.
"And if young Mr. Archer agrees to undergo treatment in a suitable facility for a term of not less than six months... Well, it would seem to me that everyone wins. Mr. Richards gets a conviction—sealed of course. Senator Archer's political career is in tact. And Cole skates by with slap on the wrist." He paused and asked, "Mr. Richards?"
Disgruntled, he replied, "I can live with it."
"Me, too, Judge," Wells said.
"Cole?"
He looked around the room for a moment, then back at the Judge. "Looks like I don't really have a choice. Do I?"
Matter-of-factly, the Judge said, "No. You don't"
















CHAPTER 5
Holly Grove Memorial Hospital was an exclusive mental facility in the desert east of Los Angeles. It was known to only a very special few. If you were sent there, it was likely that no one, maybe not even God, would know you were there.
Even for those who drove by the large wrought iron gates and large stone walls on a daily basis, the goings on inside were merely conjecture. The large, tarnished bronze plaque to the right of the gate said only "Holly Grove, Est. 1891."
Gargoyle-like statues were poised on stone posts in the wall, watching the entrance like demonic sentinels. Their cold, stone eyes fixed on points in the space at the center of the road near the entrance, seemingly guarding the occupants of the place some called The Asylum.
Cole's parents drove him to Holly Grove in a rented car to avoid the possibility that the press might get suspicious and begin asking questions. The Senator drove as cautiously as he steered through as many back roads as possible; ducking the nonexistent press, and doing little more than wasting gas and boring his wife and stepson to death.
Finally, he drove up to the front gate. On the driver's side, at eye level for someone sitting in a car, was a small microphone. High up on the wall next to one of the gargoyle statues was a somewhat hidden video camera.
"Hello," the Senator said, somewhat self-consciously, into the microphone. "Is anyone there?"
"Welcome to Holly Grove," the disembodied, electronic voice spoke out. "Please state your name and business."
The Senator looked around as if he were a spy keeping an eye out for an enemy agent. "I'd rather not in public, if you don't mind."
"Welcome to Holly Grove," the voice repeated. "Please state your name and business."
"Jesus Christ."
"Hold on, Ray," Lacy said as she stretched across him, with a compassionate look on her face, to get to the microphone. "I'm Lacy Archer. I'm here to..." she chose her words carefully, "enroll my son, Cole."
"Thank you," Ray said as he let out a sigh of relief.
A moment later, the large gates creaked open automatically. "Enter please," the voice said.
The car wound its way through the winding drive, through the well- manicured and landscaped lawns. Trees of all varieties lined the small, two-lane, asphalt drive.
The trip from the front gate to the main entrance of the hospital took all of three minutes. Over the last hill stood the modern-looking hospital facility. It stood in stark contrast to the gates that protected it.
The main building, which was flanked by two large, circular ward structures, was monolithic and totally white, with the exception of gold-plated glass windows which marked the offices. The twin doors were the same gold- plated glass as the windows. Cole thought it looked like a cathedral.
It was home for, at least, the next six months.
There was limited parking space, but luckily there was an open one near the front door.
Cole got out of the car and stood in front of the door, studying the place for a moment, while his stepfather quickly and efficiently retrieved the suitcases from the trunk of the car. Raymond Archer, with an annoying sense of urgency, unceremoniously ushered his wife and stepson towards the door.
The sun reflected off the door and blinded them for a moment.
As they stepped up onto a large, black doormat with the name of the hospital on it, they were further startled when the doors opened automatically.
They entered and found themselves in the beautifully apportioned main lobby. This was not the way any hospital Cole had been in was decorated. Polished black and gray marble floors were under their feet. Obviously expensive works of art line the wall. A white-marble, working fountain stood in the middle of the floor.
In contrast to the activity outside, the main lobby was a beehive of activity; doctors, nurses, orderlies and office staff, were all going about their business.
Raymond Archer marched towards the front desk. Lacy and Cole followed. Behind the front desk sat a beautiful receptionist, Tatum Edwards, was busy on the phone. She was young and beautiful; and had Raymond been there on other business, and had his wife not been standing right behind him, he might have begun flirting with her.
She motioned for him to wait a moment. "No, the patients can't come to the phone. I told you that before," she said as tried to hold onto her composure. "Sir, you will have to talk to the doctor in charge when he is available. Good-bye." She hung up the phone, shuffled through a few papers, then looked up at Raymond.
"I'm Sen...," he caught and corrected himself, "I'm Mr. Raymond Archer..."
"We've been expecting you and your son, Senator," she said," correcting him. "If you'll wait over there, someone from admitting will come up to take care of you," she said as she picked up the phone and ask for admitting.
Cole eyed Tatum for a moment. She returned the interest for a moment, but soon she returned her attention to the call.
After a moment, she hung up the phone and said, "Nurse Morris, Dr. Green's assistant will come up in a moment.
"Green?" he asked.
"Yes. He's the chief of the juvenile division."
Before he could say another word, Nurse Morris appeared from around the corner. "Senator Archer?" she said with nursely charm. "Will you and your family please follow me?"
She headed down the hallway. The Archers followed her, but not before both of the male Archers paid a final glance and smile at Tatum Edwards.
"Nice," Cole said under his breath as he followed the others down the corridor. The Executive Office sections of the facility were even more plush than the front lobby. Each one of the doctor's offices had a lavishly decorated outer office.
Doctor Green's door was ornately sculpted oak. His name, "Dr. Seth Franklin Green, Executive Assistant, Juvenile Division," appeared in gold-script letters. Nurse Morris opened the door for them and asked them to wait in the outer office. She then disappeared into the Doctor's office.
"Cole," Raymond said in a curt tone, "you'd better learn something here. I can't keep helping you like this."
"Excuse me, but it's you you're helping by me being here, not me," Cole said in a blunt manner.
"Now that's what I'm talking about..."
"Please, will you two stop for one minute!" Lacy interjected. "All you do is argue. It's boring."
Both of them retracted their claws. Lacy had that effect on the both of them when the three of them were together. When she said that it was enough, that was enough for them.
Nurse Morris reappeared from the Doctor's office and bid them enter. Slowly they rose and followed her.
Doctor Green reminded Cole of the Absent-minded Professor. He was sort of nerdish-looking. He wore thick, black-rimmed glasses with lenses thick as Coke( bottles. He was dressed in a white, physician's smock, a white shirt and a bow tie—who ever wore bow ties?—Cole asked himself. Too short, gray polyester slacks hovered far above a pair of black suede Buster Browns(. To top it off: white socks.
The illusion was complete as far as Cole was concerned; Doctor Green was a nerd.
"Mr. Archer," he said in a happy tone as he came from behind his desk with his hand extended towards Cole. "Very nice to meet you."
Startled slightly by the Doctor's overly friendly demeanor, Cole stood to accept his gesture of welcome.
Green then turned to Cole's parents and said, "Greetings, Senator, Mrs. Archer." He shook their hands and then led them towards the door. "I'll handle things from here on in," he said as he ushered them out the door.
"But, Doctor..." the Senator protested.
"No buts," Green said. He was curt and to the point. "Right now Cole needs to be immersed in our program."
"Doctor, I think..."
"Far too much, Mrs. Archer," he said, ignoring the shocked looks on both the Senator's and Mrs. Archer's faces. "Nurse Morris will take you to the admitting office to handle the paperwork."
But, Doctor..."
"No buts, Senator," he said as he closed the door on them and headed back to his seat.
Cole was in shock. He said, "That's wild, Doc."
"What's wild?"
"The way you handled my step dad," he said. "No one talks to him like that."
"Well I didn't mean to be rude, but we have work to do and parents just seem to interfere."
"My feelings exactly," Cole said. "So, what's next?"
Green stared down at his papers for a moment, and then with a sardonic smile, said, "Started a fire in your high school?"
"That's what they say, Doc," he said with a mixture of pride and uneasiness on his face.
"Pyromania," he said, relishing the words. "I wrote a paper on it two years ago."
"I'm not exactly a pyromaniac, Doc."
"Yes. Of course you're not," he said, patronizingly, a silly grin stretched across his face as he stood and walked around the desk. He sat in on the edge of the desk in front of Cole.
"Smoke?" he asked as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket inside his smock.
Cole thanked Green for the cigarette and put it in his mouth. He then searched through his pocket. "Don't have a light, Doc."
"Oh, sorry," Green said as he flipped a box of safety matches his way.
Cole caught the box, opened it, lit his cigarette, and then tossed the box back to the Doctor.
He was shocked, and somewhat disheartened, that Cole returned the matches. He had expected Cole to pocket them. He lit his own cigarette. "Don't smoke much anymore," he said as he exhaled the smoke. "Trying to quit."
"That's good, Doc," Cole replied, sarcastically.
Green smiled and said, "I can see that you're anxious to get started." He headed for the door. Shortly after, Cole followed him.
Green stopped at the door and said with a smile, "You're in for a great adventure." He opened the door and said, melodramatically, "Follow me."
"There are two wards to this hospital," Green said as he led Cole to the place where two corridors branch off towards the patient wards. "The adult ward is to your right," he said, pointing towards the corridor to their right. The corridor was as brightly lit and cheery as was the rest of the main building.
"We've had many famous people there in the ninety-nine years since Holly Grove opened."
"Like who?"
"Can't say. Doctor-client relationships are confidential," he said as he moved towards the left. "Down here is the juvenile ward."
The corridor leading towards the juvenile ward was different than was the one leading the other way. Although the same care was taken its decoration, this corridor was dark, poorly lit, and somber.
"What happened, Doc?" Cole asked with and uneasy look in his eyes. "Forget to pay the light bill?"
Seeing the look on Cole's face Green said, "Don't worry. It's not as somber as it appears."
He lead Cole through a security door which entered into a nurse's station. A middle-aged nurse sat behind the counter. "This is Nurse Carmen. Nurse Carmen, this is Cole Archer."
Nurse Carmen pulled Cole's file from a bin in front of her.
"Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Archer," she said as she scanned the file. She pulled a paper from the file and handed to the Doctor. "That's your room assignment. Room twenty-eight-A."
Cole thought it odd that Nurse Carmen never looked at either of them. She never even looked up from her paperwork. Except for direct questions and necessary dialogue, she never said never volunteered any conversation.
"If you have any problems during the day, Cole, come to Nurse Carmen."
"I'll be sure to do that, Doc," Cole said. "I'm sure she'll be very helpful."
Green motioned for Cole to follow. Nurse Carmen, again, never taking her eyes off her work, pressed a button that electronically open the formidable security doors that led into the main ward.
Hallways went on both sides. Green pointed in both directions and said, "The ward is circular. The patient rooms are on the outside. Services are on the inside, the hub, as we call it."
He pointed straight ahead of him and said, "If we went through this corridor, we'd go into the center courtyard." He said, glowingly, "It's really a beautiful garden. I helped design it."
"Really, Doc?"
"Yes. Botany is a hobby of mine," he said as headed down the corridor to his right.
What a dimwit, Cole thought.
Door after door, they were all closed. No one in sight. Where were the patients, Cole thought to himself. Finally, his curiosity got the best of him.
"Doc, what's going on here?"
"What do you mean?"
"This is a hospital, right?"
"Yes."
"Where are the patients?"
"I was going to get to that," Green said as he opened one of the patient's room doors. "This is your room. Come on in."
Cole examined his new home. Green gave him the tour. There was not really anything about which to talk. There was a bed and a night stand, a desk with a chair, a closet, a chest of drawers. All of it was very plain. A bathroom, adequate but not what he was used to was next to the closet door. At least he did not have to share a room with anyone.
The lights were dim in here too, and the windows were locked shut and covered with something that blocked out the light.
Cole sat on the bed, while Green sat at the desk.
"What we practice here in the juvenile ward is a therapy called, light deprivation therapy. Some call it night therapy."
"I've never heard of it."
"It's actually quite new. The chief of the juvenile division, Dr. Svensson, invented it."
"Really?"
"Yes. You'll get use to it."
The paperwork took very little time, and soon the Archer's were on their way.
"I can't believe how rude that Doctor was," Lacy said in her learned, high- class manner. "What kind of name is Green?"
"I don't know, but that doesn't matter. He won't be in charge of Cole," Raymond said, trying to appease his wife.
"Well I hope not."
"Look, Lace, this time will be good for Cole," he assured her. "Many very important people have gone to Holly Grove. They're fine," he said as he took her hand. "Judge Abraham knows the medical director personally. His name is Dr. Svensson."
"Well I hope his manners are better than Green."















CHAPTER 6

Cole sat in his darkened room. Green stayed for only a minute, and then quickly left. Cole was happy for that. Green could be tolerated only in small doses; two or three seconds was about as long a dose as Cole could tolerate.
He tried to turn the lights up higher, but they seemed to have some sort of governor on them to keep them at the lowest level required for a Mortal to see.
Green had left a map of the juvenile ward. Cole picked it up and examined it. He had to hold it up close to the light to read it. He saw that there was a recreation center. It was in the hub near his room.
There was nothing to do in his room so he headed out.
Map in hand, he headed towards the direction of the recreation center.
The closed doors annoyed him. He like being alone, but only when he chose to be alone. This was not voluntary. His watch told him that it was six-thirty, but there were no windows to confirm this. He assumed that soon the other patients would soon rise.
"What'cha doing, kid?" the voice rang out from the janitor's closet.
Cole stopped and found an old man, probably in his late-sixties, early-seventies. He had a scruffy beard and wore clothes he probably had when he was a kid.
"Just cruising through, pop."
"Name's not pop. Marvin Tubbs is the name," he said as he came out of the closet.
Cole noticed a can of paint thinner in the corner of the closet and smiled a little.
"Cole Archer," he said with his hand outstretched. "Pleasure to meet you, Marvin."
Reluctantly, Marvin shook hands with Cole, sensing something different in him than the other kids at Holly Grove.
"I heard about you. You're the Senator's son."
"Stepson," Cole quickly inserted.
"Well, Senator's stepson, I don't like cleaning. Especially after little psycho- monkeys like you," Tubbs said with a slight smile. "So keep this place clean and you'll have no trouble with me. Y'hear?"
"No problem, Marvin," Cole said, genuinely liking the old guy even though he had a rough facade.
"Now go away. Leave me alone. I got work to do,” he said and turned, picked up his mop as Cole moved on.
"Good night, Marvin."
Marvin groaned and went back to work.
Cole walked down the hallway, headed for the recreation room counting the doors.
"Yo, dude," the disembodied voice called out.
Cole looked into the opened doorway, and said, "What's up?" There was a guy about his age sat on a recliner in one of the rooms. His hair was much longer than Cole's, and disheveled. His clothes were in horrible shape. It looked as if he had been wearing them for months without changing or washing them.
A guitar was draped across the guy's lap. It was a Gibson SG. A television on at the other side of the room. MTV was on the screen, but the guy had a CD player playing through the earphones hanging from his ears also.
In his hand was what appeared to be a giant joint and he was taking one hell of a hit. He held it in for a moment, but attempted to talk while doing so. "Wanna hit?" he asked as he exhaled.
Cole declined.
"I'm Jake Hanson," he said extending his hand, "but most people here call me Doobie."
"I'm Cole Archer."
"A Senator's son," he said, apparently impressed.
"Stepson," Cole said, defensively.
"What'cha in for?"
"Torched my high school."
"Cool."
"Question, Dude, why are you awake?"
"Answer, Dude," he said with dope-induced giggle. "I'm an insomniac. Can't sleep."
"You're kidding."
"I haven't slept in eight months."
"It's fucked up."
"So am I, Dude."
Cole felt sorry for Doobie, and hoped that not all of the patients here were as much of a dipshit as this one. The joint was offered one more time, and declined again.
Cole said good-bye and watched as Doobie toked the entire joint in one long drag. That was impressive.
Soon he was in the recreation center. It was more incredible that he had thought, full of all sorts of video and pinball games, pool tables, air hockey, ping pong. All the delights for an adolescent mind, no quarters required.
Cole was ecstatic. Not because of the games alone; in the corner away from the video games, there was a small a small lounge area. And in the center was a large, concert grand piano.
Slowly, with a grin stretched from ear to ear, he made his way to instrument.
It seemed as if the piano had hardly been used. The keyboard cover was down. When he lifted it, he found that the keys were in pristine condition. Not even a fingerprint marred the finish. He ran his fingers lightly up and down the keys, checked the tuning, which was almost perfect, and sat down.
As the music of Beethoven filled the air, all thoughts of his condition disappeared.
As Cole continued with his music, the sun set slowly outside, and soon there was night.
Throughout the Juvenile Ward, the patients began to stir, and soon the halls were filled with them, some of whom were still in their PJ's.
Kari Robertson, a comely teenager with long brown hair and deep hazel- green eyes, exited her room and immediately heard the beautiful music which filled the air. She greeted a few of her fellow patients. One of them, Tony Woodward walked up to her and noticed her distraction.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Can't you hear it?"
"What?"
"The music," she said as she headed towards the origin of the enchanting sounds.
Tony shook his head for a moment, and then called after her, "Sebastian wants everyone in the Courtyard right away."
"I'll be right back," she said as she rounded the bend.
In the recreation room, Cole neared the end of the first movement of the sonata as Kari appeared in the doorway. She listened intently for a moment, starring at Cole's back and wondering what he looked like.
Sensing a presence, Cole stopped playing and turned to see who was behind him.
"Don't stop," Kari said and continued, "It's pretty."
"Thanks," Cole said as he watched Kari enter the recreation room and take a place near the piano. It was odd. She stood exactly where his sister, Tina, always stood when she listened to him play. He put his hands back on the keys and began again. He looked up at her. "I'm Cole..."
"I know who you are, Cole Archer," she said with a big smile as she pulled a cigarette from her shirt, placed it in her mouth, and lit it. "We heard about you," she said through the smoke as she exhaled.
Cole noticed that she had enlarged canine. She had fangs. They were not the normal enlarged canines you see on some people. They were really large. It was kind of sexy though, he thought.
"I can see that. Looks like the Senator can't control the press as well as he thought he could."
"Not much gets past us here. It's like a little CIA," she said as she placed the cigarette near Cole's mouth. He took a deep inhale.
"So what's the routine here?"
Tony Woodward, a hyperactive, lanky kid with long, stringy black hair, stuck his head in the door, and said, "Sebastian wants everyone in the Courtyard."
"Be right there, Tony."
"Hi, Cole. I'm Tony Woodward. We heard about you."
Kari snapped at him, "I said we'd be right there, Tony."
"Sure, Kari," Tony said as he faded away.
Cole assumed that Kari had some power here. Tony put up no fight when Kari as much as ordered him away.
"We should go. Sebastian's pretty grumpy when he first awakes," Kari said as she led him by the hand out of the recreation room.
Kari led Cole through the corridor which went from the inside hallway to the Courtyard. It was much larger than Cole had imagined it would be, and it seemed as though at least a hundred patients roamed freely about.
Music blared from the direction of the Courtyard and grew in volume as he neared the entrance. It was almost painful, but he seemed to get used to it the closer he got to the Courtyard.
A wonderful garden appeared in front of Cole as he and Kari entered the Courtyard; Green had not exaggerated his ability as a gardener. All sorts flowers and trees lined an area filled with small, slate walks and areas with stone benches. At the center was a large open space. A humongous bon fire, over ten feet high, roared brilliantly near the center. It was the only light in the Courtyard, aside from the full moon overhead, since the windows of the ward were all blacked out. Cole still could not figure that one out. Why were all the windows blacked out? What the hell was "Night Therapy?"
As Kari led him through the Courtyard, other patients greeted him by name. Sarah T., an attractive dressed like a hippie, bedecked in a tie-dye tee-shirt, walked by Cole and Kari and introduced herself. She sort of reminded Cole of his real father.
On her heels, another girl dressed in clothes from the 1920's smiled at him. She called herself Flapper. Cole was not sure what a Flapper was. Kari explained about the Flappers of the Twenty's.
One thing Cole noticed was that everyone was so pale. Cole was never one to go out to get a suntan, but even at that, he had much more color than anyone here.
Near the bonfire, on what appeared to be a great, marble throne, sat a diminutive, oddly dressed kid. In one hand was a gold chalice. In the other was a mahogany cane, tipped in silver. His control over the group was obvious, though not overwhelming. Cole could only assume that he was Sebastian.
As others gathered around to welcome Cole, Sebastian locked his on him. Cole did not know whether or not the power he felt emanating from Sebastian was tangible or not, but it seemed so. His piercing green eyes penetrated Cole and sent a strange sensation through him.
The reception grew as more of the patients surrounded Cole. Sebastian motioned, almost imperceptibly, to Kari. She bounces off to him and sits at his left, as if she were his queen. He offered her a drink from his chalice, which she accepted.
Wiping the residue from her lips with her left sleeve, she held the chalice on her lap for a moment. "He's empty inside," she said as she handed the chalice back to Sebastian. "He's looking for something, or someone. Anything."
Sebastian stared at Cole for a moment, then looked down at Kari, and said, matter-of-factly, "He has no choice."
"I know," Kari said, reluctantly. She paused for a moment. Her eyes fell on Cole, and then traveled back to Sebastian as she asked, "Are we going out tonight?"
"We stay in tonight," he said as he offered her the chalice again, which this time, she refused. "You have work to do," he said, sensing her reticence.
"I know," she said in a curt tone.
"It's not your first, Kari," he said, controlling his anger.
She really liked Cole. She had only just met him, but she knew she liked him. What she had to do was not always easy. But Cole had no choice, as Sebastian had pointed out. Neither did she.
"I told you, I know," she said, restrained, her teeth slightly clenched. "There's just something special about him, Sebastian."
He said no more, and turned his attention back to the gathering.
Kari resigned herself to her assignment, and slowly headed unwillingly towards Cole.





CHAPTER 7
Doctor Svensson sat silently at the dinner table as Senator Archer's servants removed the desert dishes. Tina Archer sat quietly at her place until her father nodded to her.
She quickly rose from her seat and went to her father. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and said, "Good night, father."
"Good night, Princess," he said, as if reading from a script.
Tina promptly turned to her mother, kissed her on the cheek, gave her a hug, and said, "Good night, mother."
Lacy Archer was warmer than her husband was, but this was not the place for warmth. She smiled, and said, "Good night, Tina."
In a practiced fashion, she went to Doctor Svensson, and stood erect in front of him, and said, "Good night, Dr. Svensson. It was a pleasure to meet you."
Svensson smiled broadly, exposing his enlarged canines. Tina recoiled slightly in response to the sight. "Good night, Tina," said Svensson as he took her hand and kissed it gently. "It was as much a pleasure to me as it was for you."
Tina smiled uncomfortably, turned and headed out of the dinning room.
Senator Archer motioned to the servant who quickly served coffee for the three remaining. When the coffee was poured, Archer motioned for the servant to leave, which he did promptly.
"I am very pleased that you could join us tonight, Doctor," the Senator said in his politician's fashion.
"I am, too, pleased to be invited, Senator."
"Your assistant, Dr. Green is his name?"
"You are correct."
"He was rather rude to us this morning."
"Let me apologize for the Doctor," Svensson said after taking a sip from his cup. "Dr. Green is eminently qualified to work with patients. With their families, however, he falls short in protocol."
"We're just concerned about Cole, Doctor," Lacy interjected.
"I understand that, Mrs. Archer. So are we at Holly Grove concerned about Cole; and the rest of our guests."
The Senator spied Svensson fangs and commented, "Interesting dental work, Doctor."
Svensson smiled broadly, exposing his fangs even more, and said, "It runs in my family."
"It's a rather peculiar trait."
"I have a rather peculiar family."
"Aren't we here to discuss Cole?" Lacy interjected.
"Of course we are, Mrs. Archer," said Svensson with a smile. "I must apologize. I work so much. At times I get distracted."
"No apologies are necessary, Doctor."
"If we're going to discuss Cole, shouldn't I do it?" the Senator said abruptly. "I'd like to know, Doctor, what exactly, Night Therapy is."
"Not to digress, Senator and Mrs. Archer, I come from Scandinavia. A little town called Gävle, on the northern coast of Sweden. We have long periods there where there is little or no daylight. As a little boy, I noticed that people became subdued during those periods.”
Svenson took a sip from his coffee, and continued, "I carried those impressions with me when I went to medical school. I also found that, for my part, I studied much better and more efficiently at night."
Mrs. Archer listened intently, while her husband seemed almost disinterested.
"When I moved to the United States, and as my career advanced, I began doing experiments. On my own time, of course. To make a long story short, I find that if patients are freed from the stimulation of sunlight, they concentrate much more thoroughly on their therapy."
"That sounds all right, Doctor," Lacy said. "I'm just interested in finding out how long Cole will need treatment?"
"In some ways, my hands are tied in that matter, Mrs. Archer," Svensson said with a raised eyebrow. "As you know, the Court requires that he be treated for at least six months."
"We understand that, Doctor," said the Senator. "We only want what's good for Cole," he continued, avoiding his wife's disapproving glance.
"After that period is concluded, and if the treatment has any positive effect—any reason for optimism—we have to make a report to the Court. At that time, if Judge Abraham so orders, we may release him."
"You mean he won't be home for Christmas?" Lacy asked with certain amount of alarm.
"Not necessarily..."
Cutting him off with some urgency, the Senator asked, "What does that mean?"
"Simply this: Firstly, Cole could make significant progress in a brief period of time. If in our opinion he has made sufficient gain, we would make a report to the Judge, requesting that he grant Cole increased privileges. One of those being unsupervised weekends at home. In other words, there is a possibility that Cole could be home for Christmas."
"I see," said the Senator, disapprovingly, watching his wife's positive reaction to Svensson last statement. "I think that's all we need to know, Doctor. Thank you for coming."
"Thank you, Senator and Mrs. Archer. It was a wonderful dinner. My compliments to your chef," he said as he rose from his seat and proceeded to excuse himself.
As soon as Svensson was on his way, Lacy's demeanor changed radically. They retired quickly to the library, where Lacy checked to make sure that no one was listening.
"Raymond Archer, you are reprehensible," she said, fire spewing from her eyes.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, partial rhetorically.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said, on the verge of tears. "You care nothing for Cole. You only want to make sure he's out of the way for your goddamned election!"
"That goddamned election is what helps to keep your social calendar full!"
Lacy was sincerely hurt by the last statement. She looked at him long and hard.
"What?" he asked. "Say something."
"Do you really think that my social life means anything next to what I feel for my son?"
"Of course not," he said, trying to find a way out of the mess into which he had gotten himself. "That's not what I meant."
"Tell me, then, what did you mean?"
"I simply want to point out that Cole is a very troubled young man. It is better that professionals take a good long look at his problem, and give us an option to help Cole."
He waited for a response.
"Ever the diplomat, Senator."
He knew he was in the doghouse, but there was no way for him to for him to admit, even to himself, his own selfishness.
"Darling, it's a very tense period for all of us," he said, trying to control the politician inside him. "You know that I would never do anything to hurt Cole."
She said nothing, just stood in her place with her arms crossed.
"Yes, well, I have some important work to finish before bed tonight. Why don't we continue this in the morning?"
Lacy retreated in a huff, leaving the Senator in the dinning room. After a moment, he walked off towards his den.





CHAPTER 8
In the corridor running from the Juvenile Ward to the Executive Wing, a more than exhausted Doctor Green ran into Doctor Svensson.
"Good evening, Seth. You look exhausted."
"Long day," Green replied, and continued, "How was dinner?"
They headed towards Executive Wing.
"Fabulous. And the Archers are placated, as best as I was able. Might even be able to get a grant out of them."
"What do you want done with Cole?"
Svensson pressed the code to open the security door. They entered the Executive Wing and headed for Svensson office.
"I need to speak to him tonight. Have him brought to me as soon as possible. If those vultures get him first...” he said as he shook his head. A look of exasperation appeared on his face and he continued, "I don't even want to think about that."
"Sebastian is impetuous," said Green, rubbing his eyes, his glasses being pushed up to accommodate.
"He is an asshole, Seth," Svensson said with a slight look of annoyance.
"Why do you let him stay as their leader, Erick, if you feel that way?"
"Seth, he thinks he is their leader," he said, stopping them just outside the office door. "They think he is their leader. They obey him without question. They fear and respect him. It has been that way too long to simply waltz in and overthrow him."
"What are you going to do about him?"
"Take some time to dismantle him." He thought for a moment to himself and said, "Perhaps... Perhaps it might become necessary to destroy him."
"Drastic."
"Indeed."
They both stood for a moment outside their offices and contemplated their conversation. After a moment, Svensson smiled and opened the door.
"Shall we?"

***
Cole and Kari walked silently close together on the grounds outside of the facility. In the cloudless sky, the moon hung like a silent sentinel, an eye in the sky, watching their every move.
Kari moved closer to him, seductively closer.
(So, what did you do to get in here?” Cole asked. “Something nasty? Or was it just drugs and shit?”
She said. “Nothing as cool as you. I thought about torching my school,” she said with a giggle. (That was a good one. I was very impressed.”
“Judge wasn’t.”
“Judges are like that,” she said, dismissively. “No sense of humor. No idea about the grand order of things.”
“My stepfather wasn’t very amused either,” Cole said. “Interferes with his bid for the White House. You know how it is. They have this thing for power and they just get pissed when little shits like me get in the way.”
“Yeah, kids are such a pain in the ass.”
“Wait until he sees what my sister does,” Cole said. “She’s a fuse that’s been near the flame for a long time, and when she goes,” he laughed a bit then said, “I hate to see what the Senator says when that happens.”
Before them, a small stream formed a natural boundary. Kari flopped down at the bank, took off her shoes and dipped her toes in the cool water. Cole smiled and took a place beside her.
“You have nice toes,” he said.
“Like feets, huh?” she giggled. “I used to get pedicures all the time. My best friend in high school was a freak for foot care. She said that her grandfather was in the Marines in the Pacific in World War II. And he said that a Marine lived or died with his foot care. Keep them clean and healthy.”
“You just took all the romance out of a foot fetish,” he said as he lay back down on the soft grass.
Kari let out a cackling laugh and flipped her head back. Slowly, she rolled over onto her belly and said, “Well, maybe, given time of course, we can work on restoring your romance.”
“Maybe,” he said as he let his face drift closer to hers. Both smiled self-consciously, little bits of nervous laughter slipping out as their lips drew nearer.
“Trying to seduce me, are you?” she asked, his lips not more than an inch from her own. “On the first night? Damn, you are bold.”
Cole stopped short, but did not retreat.
“Loss for words?” she asked.
He smiled and kissed her lightly.
“I get the idea,” she said, kissing him in the same manner, “that you’re not always this audacious.”
“I’m not a pickup artist.”
“You’re doing okay, as far as I can see.”
“Yeah,” he said, kissing her again, “must be the romantic surroundings.”
“Yeah, well, the Asylum’s not that bad.”
“Asylum?”
“What we affectionately call our little home,” she said. “But I don’t really know who started it. Maybe Sebastian. I don’t know. Never asked.”
“I may not be the brightest match in the pack, but I just don’t understand how we can go outside like this,” he said, searching the shadows for orderlies. “I mean, this is a mental hospital.”
“Well, see, there are a lot of freedoms here at Holly Grove,” she said. “They don’t really bother us too much.” She looked deeply into his eyes. Smiled. Touched his face with her fingertips. “I want to know about you.”
“Call the FBI,” he said. “They probably have a file bigger than a house.”
“You must be a real desperado,” she said, teasing him. “What do you do that would make the FBI come after you? Besides torching your school.”
For a moment, he stared off into space, the slowly turned to her and said, “Nothing. I don’t do anything. No drugs. No drinking. I don’t go out with big groups. I sit in my room and play piano. Talk to my sister. She’s the wild child in the family. Just turned sixteen, but she’s been driving—without permission—since she was twelve. Thirteen, maybe. But she’s daddy’s little girl, so she does what she wants. Gets what she wants.
“Me, I’m the step kid, so I get all the flack. I get straight A’s” in school. Generally I don’t make trouble,” he pulled a cigarette from the pack, popped it into his mouth and fired it up.
“So, why are you here?” she asked, pulling the cigarette from his mouth, taking a puff and returning it.
“I don’t know,” he said. (I was bored.”
“Good excuse,” she said with a laugh. “Kids these days.”
“Huh?”
“My god,” she said, “you have everything you could ever want. And you’re bored?”
“What are you talking about?” he said. “You are younger than I am.”
“Not by much.”
“I’m here because of politics,” he said. “If it weren’t for my stepfather’s campaign, I’d have gotten probation. A year. Then the judge would expunge the whole thing like it never happened.”
Kari stared at him as he gazed off into space, touched his face with her fingertips. She could see his breathing increasing. Feel his skin moisten.
(What are you doing?” he asked.
“I like your skin,” she said. “Your face.”
“Ms. Robertson,” he said with a wry smile, “I think you’re trying to seduce me.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, moving close. “I just like your face.”
The look, he thought as he peered into her eyes. Beautiful eyes. Blue, a touch of green. The look. No one could mistake the look of someone right before they were going to kiss someone else.
“What are you thinking?” she asked with a beguiling smile.
“Just how beautiful you are.” It was a was a cliché, but it was all he could think to say. “That’s so cheesy,” she said with a giggle.
“King of cheese.”
“I think you’re beautiful too,” she said as she gently, she touched his lips with hers. Slowly, she pulled back and peered into his eyes. In all her years, Kari had never been one to swoon over a guy, not even when she was alive. But as she gazed into his eyes, the liquid blue illuminated by the moonlight, she saw something inside him that captivated her.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said with a slight smile. She felt like a kid again, and the feeling almost annoyed her. She was not longer a child. She had not been for decades, though she continued to show a child’s face. Butterflies that she had not felt in years sailed around inside her. Who was this person that could put those feelings inside her?
“What are you thinking?” he asked again.
“You’d laugh.”
“Try me.”
“We sound like a couple of idiots in a cheesy movie,” she said with a blush. “All I can say is that you’ve stirred something inside me that hasn’t been stirred in a long time.” As soon as she spoke the words, she felt a tinge of sadness because she knew that she was on a mission, and that emotion shouldn’t enter into it. But she could also see that Cole was flattered by her attraction. And her human side, the side that did not see Mortals in the same light as others of her kind did, took pity on Cole. He had no choice in his fate. What was going to happen was going to happen, as it had to her, all those years ago. That was fate.
***
Svenson moved through the throng that populated the Courtyard. Part of him was annoyed at the childish, tribal display. All eyes fell upon him as he made his way directly to Sebastian, sitting high on his throne.
The impending confrontation struck fear in the partiers.
Sebastian locked his irritated glare on Svenson, marking every step the older man took as he advanced.
“Where is he, Sebastian?” Svenson asked, tersely.
Sebastian regarded him condescendingly for a moment as he shrugged his shoulders.
“Tell me what I want to know,” Svenson demanded. “Tell me now.”
“Are you threatening me, Erick?” he replied, not a hint of fear in his voice. He twirled his black cane in his fingers.
“Yes, I am,” the older man replied. Anger dripped from every word.
A trace of a smile appeared on his lips. He took a deep breath, and said, “He went for a walk with Kari.”
“Walk with me, Sebastian,” Svenson said, anger seething beneath the surface.
With impertinent obedience, Sebastian climbed down from his perch. As soon as they were out of earshot of the rest, Sebastian continued. “We’ve been together many years.”
Sebastian said nothing. The air seemed to cool as they moved farther away from the fire. Night began to grip them. “I’ve walked to earth for millennia,” Svenson said. “I’ve seen many come and go. It’s a sad thing. It’s almost a Mortal feeling in a way. I’ve also had many enemies. More than I can count.”
Part of Sebastian wanted to hear his old friend and mentor go on about history. But the animosity that had grown over the decades became a barrier to their moribund friendship. Years ago, something happened to begin the destruction of their friendship. But Sebastian could not remember, nor understand, what it was. The dichotomy in his feelings became pure torture for Sebastian.
“One day,” he continued, “and I’m not sure when that will be, I’ll open up to you my diaries. My life. You will know more about us, about our kind, than any other in history.”
Sebastian nearly salivated with anticipation. Since he came over, since Svenson sent Rose to turn him, Sebastian wanted to know what Svenson knew. Nearly sixty years had passed, and he felt no closer to that knowledge now than he did then. He felt that Svenson wanted something, and would dangle the carrot in front of him to get it, knowing all the while that he would never give the information Sebastian craved so much.
“Is there a point to this?” Sebastian asked.
“You have a pressing engagement?” Svenson countered, snapping back to the reason that brought him into the Courtyard in the first place. He waited for a moment for an answer. None came. “He’s a Senator’s son, Sebastian,” he said, gravely.
“Stepson.”
“Regardless,” he said, growing aggravated. “Leave him alone.”
“I’m doing nothing to him, Erick.”
“Why am I not convinced?”
“She liked him. He liked her,” he said. “That’s all there is to it.”
“I want to see him before midnight,” Svenson said. “Do you understand?”
“Sure, Doc.”
Svenson can tolerate no more of Sebastian’s impertinence. “See that he’s there.” He turns and heads back toward the doorway.
“Doc!”
“Yes?” he said, barely turning.
“How are the experiments coming along?”
“When they’re finished,” he said, starting off again, “you’ll be the first to know.”
“See that I am.”
Svenson boiled with rage at his insolence, but did not turn to show it.

***
Sweet, moist air surrounded Cole and Kari. It almost felt as if rain would soon come. But the full moon that hung in a cloudless sky showed otherwise.
Lying on their backs, gazing up at the star-filled sky, neither had spoken a word for several moments. Occasionally, they would kiss, almost as if the act was not important, just the feeling. Apprehension wrote itself across Kari’s face.
Slowly, Kari turned and gazed at Cole’s face. What she saw there was fear. She wished that the folklore about being able to read minds was true. But she could no more read his mind than he could read hers. If he really knew what was going to happen to him, would he fear even more? Or would he welcome the change? She tried to remember back to when she came over. Was she scared? Angry was more like it. She hated being in the Asylum. Hated having walls that barred her from going where she wanted.
But this was different. Cole would be barred from the day, from being able to move in daylight. He would have to feed on living blood. He would no longer be human.
“This is the first time I’ve been away from home in so long,” Cole said. “As much as I can’t stand being with my family, I almost can’t stand being away.”
His words made it all the more difficult to do what she had to do. Turning him would sever ties with his family. How could he go back to them then?
“I don’t like my stepfather,” he said. “But he’s honest in a way. He is who he is. There’s a good chance that he’ll be president next year.”
“That would cool,” she said with a smile as she traced circles around his shoulder.
“I guess,” Cole said. “It still might be hard to hide me. And Tina.”
“Without sounding like an asshole,” she said with a smile, “I think your stepfather has more to worry about from her. She seems like she has him wrapped around her little finger.”
“You have no idea.”
“I’m a girl,” she said with a giggle. “I know everything about wrapping father’s around fingers.”
Tony ran up to Kari and Cole, and said, “Cole, Dr. Svenson wants to see you A.S.A.P.”
“Am I in trouble?” Cole asked.

“Doc's cool,” Kari said. “Don’t worry. See ya when you're done.”
Cole looked at Kari for a second, and then headed off with Tony.
Out of the shadows, Sebastian appeared. “What are you waiting for, Kari?”
She had not heard him move in from behind her, but she was not startled by his arrival. “Must you?”
“I told you to do something,” he said. “I expect it to be done.” He gazed at her irate glare. “Or have you already…”
“No!” She lied. “It’s not that easy.”
“It is that easy,” he said with a smile. “You’ve done it many times. Why is this different?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve known you longer than anyone here,” Sebastian said. “We’ve been through a lot. Maybe you’ve gone soft in your old age.”
No reply.
“Should I get someone else?”
She flashed her eyes at him. What was there? Anger? Fear? What?
“No,” she said after a long furtive pause. “I’ll do it. As soon as he’s done with Svenson.”
Sebastian nodded, touched her hair, and moved off.

***
Cole sat across the desk from Svenson, who drinks a red liquid from a wine glass. “I spoke to your parents tonight, Cole. They're very concerned about you.”
Cole rolled his eyes.
“You do understand that what you did was wrong?”
Cole laughed a little.
“That sort of impertinence is not conducive to a healthy recovery,” Svenson said, a little annoyed. “Your father...”
“Stepfather,” Cole retorted.
“Of course,” Svenson said. “Your stepfather and mother expressed great concerns about your therapy.”
“My stepfather’s concern extends to keeping me out of the public eye until he can get into the White House.”
“You don’t seem to get along well with the Senator.”
“And what made you think that, Doc?” he said, impertinently.
“Cole, I’m on your side,” Svenson said. “Besides, I don’t think I’d get along with your stepfather either. He seems a bit too stuck on himself.”
“So, we have something in common,” he said.
“It seems we do,” Svenson said. “Cole, “I’m not going to feed you a lot of psychobabble. I want you to relax tonight. Get to know some of the other patients. I’ll explain your therapy tomorrow. As for now, stay up as long as you can. Adjust.”
Svenson’s became more subtly ominous. He leaned forward a bit and said, “But let me warn you. It may seem as if you have a lot of privileges. But be advised. Things are not as they always seem.”
A feeling of uneasiness washed over Cole. Svenson’s power was different from others. It seemed to come from a different place than other authority figures he had known.
Cole nodded, trying to flush the feeling away and said, “Sure, Doc.”
“One other thing,” Svenson said, stopping Cole before he could get to the door. “Stay away from Sebastian.”
Svenson’s terse statement brought back the uneasy feeling he had before.

***

Bags of blood littered the laboratory desks. Tubes ran from flask to flask, test-tube to test-tube. Bunsen Burners flamed under other flasks. Doctor Ian Firth, a lanky, dark-haired man in his late thirties, hovered over his microscope. With an eyedropper, he deposits a small amount of liquid onto the slide. After a moment of examination, Firth sat up and slide back away from the microscope. “Nothing,” he said, in an Oxonian accent, muddied a bit by the years in America.
Svenson, who had been leaning against the wall, moved forward, gazed at the microscope, but not into it. “Lovely.”
“Nothing works, Erick.” He lit a cigarette and took a long draught. “Everything I try comes to naught.”
“You just have to try harder, Ian,” Svenson said with aplomb. “You’re one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever met. If anyone can do it, you can.”
“I haven’t so far.”
“Minor details,” he said. “Why do you think I brought you over?”
“Because no Mortal would do this work.”
“Exactly.”
“How was your meeting with the new kid?”
“Wonderful,” he replied as he took a vile of blood and drank it down. “I could kill Doctor Green for allowing his admission. I told him that runaways and druggies are okay, but this is insane. I have to find a way to make sure that those vultures don’t get to him.”
“He’s going to find out about us.”
“Perhaps,” he said, lighting a cigarette of his own. “But I’ll find a way to get him transferred to another facility as soon as it’s prudent to do so.”
“That would be wise,” Firth said. “How long are you going to keep our little children in the dark about their true nature?”
“As long as it is practical to do so,” Svenson said. “Why?”
“I just don’t think it’s wise, Erick.”
“We’ve had this discussion almost every week for over a hundred and twenty years, my friend,” he said, taking a place directly in front of him. “If we tell them that the can walk in daylight, they’ll be free of us. Now, we can’t turn a hundred and fifty-three blood-suckers loose on Los Angeles, can we?”
“I think Sebastian suspects,” Firth said.
“Sebastian is an infant with far too much power,” Svenson said. “As long as they think they can’t go into the sun…”
“But they can go into the sun!”
“Yes, they can.”
“And there’s the one they call Doobie.”
“I’ve dealt with him.”
“He never drinks the drugged blood,” Firth said. “He never sleeps.”
“Doobie is under control, Ian.”
“You think?” Firth said. “One word from him and the whole thing falls down around your neck. And mine?”
“Just keep giving them the drugs and look for an answer,” he said, “then I’ll deal with Sebastian.” He turned toward the door and headed away.
“They mock you behind your back.”
“As I said, Ian,” Svenson said, opening the door, “free us from this nightmare, and I’ll dethrone him.” The door slammed almost before Svenson had time to walk through it. Firth sighed deeply, sucked the last of the smoke from his cigarette, and turned back to his experiments.

***
Tina wondered around the mansion in a hopeless daze with the phone to her ear. “I know, but it so totally sucks, Morgan,” she said. “He’s in this fucking hospital and I can’t even talk to him.”
“Just call him,” her friend said.
“I told you, idiot,” she said more vehemently, “he’s incommunicado. The fuckers won’t let him take calls for the first two weeks. I mean, Cole’s like a hopeless puppy without me. He’s probably wondering around like a zombie. I mean, I love my brother. He’s hot.”
“I agree.”
“He’s funny. Talented. But he’s a social leaper. Totally inept. I don’t know how he gets the dates he gets. Well, actually, I get most of them for him.”
“Well, why don’t you torch the school,” Morgan said, “and get stuck there yourself?”
“Oh, come on, Morgan,” she said, twirling around in place, and slipping into Cole’s room, “that’s nuts. Besides, my father would never let me go to a place like that. He’d pull the Capital down before that could go down. Remember, the freak already has business cards reading President Archer. He’s so out of it.”
As she stood before Cole’s piano, she touched the top, and remembered what it was like to stand there and listen to him play.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” she said, slumping up against the wall and gazed out the window onto the patio where she saw Cole being taken away by the cops.
“I say you just drive up there one night and see if you can get in.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just don’t know.”

***

Cole wandered back to the juvenile ward and found Kari standing at the door, waiting for him. “So, how was the session?”
“Not a session,” Cole said. “Not sure what it was.”
“Fuck it,” she said, wrapping her arm around him. “Let’s go.”
She led him outside, back into the night.
As they walked among the trees, they said little.
Slowly, from behind, Kari slipped her hands under his arms and around his body, quashing all errant thoughts from his mind. Her touch sent a shockwave through him.
“How long has been?”
“Huh?” he asked.
“You really, I mean,” she stammered a bit, then went on, “you’re really good looking, but I bet you don’t go on many dates.”
A smile appeared on his face as he turned in her arms, wrapping his own around her. It was the first time he realized how tiny she was. Five foot one, maybe. She had a sweet face, a kind face. How could he see the demon that lived behind those sweet eyes?
“I don’t go out much,” he confessed. “I do go out, but it never seems to come to much. They’re pretty. The surface is a appealing,” he said, smiling sadly, “but the inside, it was empty. I think I had a problem with the fact that they were so childish. I need a little maturity in my life.”
“Maybe I can help you with that,” she said as she kissed him deeply.
Electricity flowed through his body as her tongue searched his mouth, and almost took his breath away. As he responded, he noticed her fangs. That was all he could think to call them. Before, he had noticed them, but it did not put him off. Many people had strange teeth.
Both pulled away for a moment, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily.
“Cole, I have to tell you something,” she said, a crestfallen look on her face.
“What?” he asked, not sure how to read the look in her face. “What is it?”
No words followed.
“Kari?” he said. “What is it? Is it bad?”
“Cole, I like you,” she said. “I really do.”
“I like you too.”
“I have to do this,” she said, breathing more and more heavily.
“Do what?”
“It’s not really bad,” she whispered, not letting go of him as he began to back off.
“Kari, what the fuck is going on?”
“I promise,” she said, “it’ll be okay. I promise.”
Suddenly, he felt her strength. Never in his life had he felt that kind of strength come from a girl. It was as if she had the strength of a hundred men.
“Kari, this is fucked up!”
Like an animal, she launched at him, grasping him by the arms, and pushing him down to the bed grass. The immense weight of her tiny body on top of his crushed the breath from his lungs, making his attempts to call out for help impossible.
“This is for the best, Cole,” she said, baring her fangs. “You’ll be one of us. You’ll fit in with the freaks.”
“Holy shit!”
Fire in her eyes, Kari drove her fangs deep into Cole’s neck. Blood oozed from the wounds and Kari ravenously drank it down, latching onto his neck with all her power. As she exsanguinated Cole, his face turned ashen, and his eyes, fixed in disbelief, began to lose focus and glaze over.
Near death, struggling to breathe, Cole cannot move, cannot speak. Kari struggled to quash the need to drink more as blood dripped from her gapping mouth.
Rapidly, she opened her shirt, and sliced a gapping wound between her breasts. “Do what I say, Cole! Drink!” she demanded. “Do it now. Do it fast.”
Cole languished in that place between life and death. His head flopped on her arm, slipped back and forth, as she tried to pull him to her. Blood oozed from his neck and flowed down her chest.
“Cole, listen to me,” she implored. “If you don’t do this fast, if you die now, I can’t help you.”
He continued to fade, but Kari shook him, shook him hard. “Dammit, Cole! Drink! Do it!”
As hard as she could, she pressed his lips to the wound on her chest. In moments, as the blood trickled into his mouth, he began to drink. At first, he barely took any in, but soon, he began to drink ravenously as if he had not had a drop to drink of anything in days. Kari began to swoon as he drank. An involuntary smile appeared on her face, and she seemed to be having an orgasm.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I really don’t know. I felt like I was going to die.”
“You would have,” she said, as showed him the wound in her chest. It was healing all by itself. “If you drank from me, as I did from you, you would have died.”
“This is insane!” His strength seemed to come back a bit.
“I felt the same way when Sebastian brought me over,” she said. “It passes. Once you feed from Mortal blood, you’ll understand. You’ll forget you were ever human.”
“I’m still human!” he exclaimed, defiantly.
“For now,” she said, “but not for long.” Her eyes cast toward the west as the azure light began to fade into yellow and orange as the sun began to course its way over the crest of the horizon. “Omigod, what time is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“We have to get inside,” she said, breathlessly. “Now!”

***
The hallways were eerily quiet.
Cole and Kari looked like a train wreck. Their footfalls echo against the linoleum floors as they made their way to her room. Kari began to fade away as them moved to the point where Cole had to support her.
Kari flopped on the bed, pulling the covers over her.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “What the hell is this?”
“Sleep, Cole,” she said. “I can’t tell you now.”
“Tell me what?” he said, as she pulled him down onto the bed.
“No energy. Must die.” Slowly, her eyes fluttered closed.
“Fuck,” he said as he lay down next to her and pulled the covers over them both.





Chapter 9
Svenson made the hour drive to the UCLA campus in short order, having been able to avoid rush hour traffic. He took Sepulveda Boulevard rather than the 101 Freeway. He knew all the short cuts around the city and he could get around much faster than most.
Blowing down Sunset Boulevard, the sun beating on his forehead as he drove his convertible Porsche 911, all the worries of his beloved Holly Grove faded away. Teaching was a passion he had developed almost a thousand years before, and when he could manage it, he would put together the proper credentials and take a teaching position a local college or university. UCLA was prestigious, a lot less stuffy than Princeton and Harvard – two other universities at which he had held positions in earlier lifetimes. Plus, it was Southern California. It was such a dynamic place to be.
Parking his car, he hauled an oversized, velum-bound book, covered in velvet, from the passenger’s seat. His classroom was not far from the parking lot. And though it was warm for October, he did not mind. He loved the sun, loved the warmth it brought, the life it gave. Teaching in this place brought a new sense of belonging to him.
Swooping into the classroom, Svenson marveled as the students instantly took their seats. “Good morning,” Svenson said as he reverently placed the book on the lecturn. “Do vampires exist?” He placed his hand on the book and said, “This book, one of many volumes, which were begun in A.D. 1002, shortly after the Irish, under their leader, Brian Boru, defeated the Vikings at the battle Clontarf. It is the only extant original copy in the hand writing of the author.”
“Where’s Clontarf?” Chrissy asked.
“Outside present day Dublin,” he replied with a smile.
“Who wrote the book?” John Harper asked.
“His name, at that time,” Svenson said, “was Lars Nyman. A Viking warrior. And a vampire.”
Harper smiled incredulously and said, “Wait a minute. Vikings fought in the daytime. Vampires can't go in the sun?”
“At first the sun bothered him,” Svenson said, moving menacingly toward Harper, “but he soon adjusted. His vampiric powers diminished in day time. But he can walk in the sun. This makes him all the more dangerous.” Harper seemed to be intimidated by Svenson’s threatening bearing. “He could be standing right next to you. In front of you, in fact.”
Fear gripped Harper, who did not know what to make of the teacher’s words. Was this just part of the lesson? He could not tell. Svenson could be an imposing figure, even during daylight.
“Doctor Svenson, how do you become a vampire?” Chrissy asked, in the same state of wonderment as her classmate.
“A very interesting question, Ms. Wilson,” he said as he retreated from the fear-filled student. “The legends are true in that aspect,” he said. “You must drink the vampire's blood. This is the only way to become a vampire. Merely being bitten will not do the trick.”
“That's disgusting,” Emily said, crunching up her nose.
“Why do you think that, Emily?”
“It’s gross,” she said, “drinking someone’s blood?”
“You like hamburgers, don’t you?”
“That’s different,” she said. “It’s a cow, not human. And it’s cooked.”
“I’d do it,” Chrissy said with a giggle.
“You’d eat anything,” Emily retorted.
“I like to keep my options open,” Chrissy replied with a salacious lick of her lips.
Svenson nodded, a twisted smile on his face, as Harper whispered to another student. “He really believes this shit.”
“I do, indeed, Mr. Harper,” Svenson said from across the room. With an evil look in his eyes, Svenson bore down on Harper once more. “This shit, as you call it, is quite real to me.”
Harper shrunk back down as Svenson bore down on him again.
“In answer to your question, Ms. Wilson,” he said, the new vampire must be transformed.”
His demeanor shocks the class by his. The look in his eye is distant, as he was seeing this, or experiencing it, for himself. Or maybe it was as if he believed he had actually experienced it.
“The vampiric blood ravages the body's cells for some time,” he continued. “A fever ensues. Chills. Body aches.”
“Sounds like the flu, Doc,” Harper said, snapping Svenson back to reality.
Svenson took a deep breath and turned back to the class. He had been staring out the window, but watching ghosts in his mind. “In some ways it is exactly like the flu, Mr. Harper,” he said, moving back to the lectern. Then, the visions of himself, the nightmare of his conversion, became real. But it was not he who was turning. The face was unclear, vague, but he felt the conversion, felt it as he always did when one of his own turned someone. “Becoming a vampire is not altogether painless. It's especially painful when the canines, the fangs, enlarge for the first time. Then the new vampire, his body, must die. The human and vampire aspects cannot coexist.”
Soon, the face became clearer. Still vague in some ways, but recognizable. It was Cole. He could see it now. Clearly. In his bed, in Kari’s bed, he writhed in pain. His face dripped with sweat. His veins burst as the blood inside him died.
Svenson stared out over the classroom, living, reliving the pain of conversion. “But even this death is not without pain. The pain is that which no Mortal could imagine,” he said, “or comprehend.”
Svenson stood still in front of the class. He stared off in the distance. Worry etched across his face. In his heart, he hoped that what he was seeing was nothing more than paranoia. Perhaps it was the fear that they would take Cole.
Like a wild animal, Cole clawed at his flesh, screamed in agony.
“It’s as if the soul is being torn from the body,” Svenson said.
He stopped speaking and glared off into the ether.
Moments of dramatic silence passed. The students looked to one another for an answer none of them had.
Finally, Jonathan Harper spoke out, “Doc, you okay?
Svenson turned slowly and traveled back to the lectern.
“I get a little melodramatic at times,” he said, brushing his hair aside. An uncomfortable moment passed, and then he continued, “I had intended to read from the vampire's diary today. However, time seems to have caught up with us. We'll save the good stuff for next time.”
Svenson gathered his things together and exited the classroom quickly.
“Okay, what the fuck was that all about?” Harper asked.
“I don’t know,” Chrissy said, “but Doc’s next level, for sure.”

***
Tina bailed out of the limousine, slamming the door behind her, anger raging across her face. Morgan slid in right next to her as the limousine, instead of pulling away, parked in the bus drop-off area.
“So, what’s with the ugly mask?” Morgan asked.
“Notice the shadow?” she said, pointing back to the limousine. “I mean, I can fucking drive by myself!”
“You’re than that good a driver, dear,” Morgan replied.
“Better than you,” she flashed back. “Besides, it’s going to get worse when he gets elected. Christ, I’ll have the fucking Secret Service up my ass. You see how it is on the West Wing? That poor girl can take a crap without the Secret Service up her ass.”
“Life suck. Strap on a piece,” Morgan said. “It’s not like being the President’s daughter wouldn’t come with some advantages.”
“Name one.”
“Living in the White House?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s great,” she growled. “Think, Morgan, I have the daddy Secret Service all over me now. I can’t do shit outside the house without them reporting back to daddy.”
“Yeah, but the Secret Service can’t narc on you,” Morgan said, slipping her sunglasses up on her forehead.
“What do you mean?”
“I watched it on the West Wing,” she said. “To gain your trust, so they make sure that they protect you, they can not narc on you to the President. It’s like you boss them around.”
“Hmmm, that could be highly profitable,” Tina said with a smirk.
“And they shuffled the little prick away in some hospital,” a girl, McKenzie Stebbins, standing at the door with a gaggle of other girls said, not realizing that Tina was standing there. “Wait till the papers get a hold of that. His father’ll never get into the White House.”
“Wanna make book on that, bitch?” Tina said, insinuating her five-foot one-inch frame into the situation.
“Oh, Tina, high, how are you?” she asked, trying to hide the blushing in her face.
“I’m just fine,” she replied, a look of death in her face. “How are you?” she asked, condescendingly.
“Just peachy,” she said, with a faux smile.
“You know, you must spend so much money on makeup, being so two-faced,” Tina said. “Why don’t you just keep your gossip to yourself. Bitch!”
Without saying another word, Tina drags Morgan into the school, leaving McKenzie and her friends sitting in a puddle of fear and embarrassment.
To Morgan, she said, “You know, the day would not start out right without a latte and without bitch-slapping McKenzie.” Both girls giggle their way down the hallway.
“So, what are you going to do?” Morgan asked. “Thought about going up there?”
“Thinking about it,” Tina replied, as someone slaps a piece of paper in her hand. Reading it, she said, “Just have to figure a way to ditch daddy’s eyes. What the fuck is this?”
Morgan snatched the paper from her hands and read it. “Rave party! Must be there.”
“You know,” Tina said, “I do need some recreation. I’m there. I’ll deal with the Cole factor tomorrow. I don’t think he’d mind his little sis having a bit of fun.” Quickly, she snatched a little kiss from Morgan as they both headed into a classroom.

***
With a broad stride, Svenson made his way back to his car. Dropping the book in the back seat, he turned to find Doctor Firth standing in the shadows. “What the hell are you thinking, Erick?”
“Whatever do you mean, Ian?”
“Bringing that to class?” he said, pointing to the vampire’s diary. “Do you think it’s wise to reveal those things to Mortals? If, somehow, this got back to Sebastian…”
“That impertinent little troll is of no significance to us,” he said. “The chance that we’d ever find him near an institution of higher learning is remote.”
“You acknowledge that there is a chance.”
“Someone has to. Ian, Sebastian has no concept of the depth of my power. There is no way he could challenge me. You worry far too much, friend.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“You've known me for over three centuries. Have you ever known me to underestimate my enemies?” he said.
“You did at Clontarf,” he said with a slight laugh. “Brian Boru your asses back into the ocean. I’d rather be embarrassed to tell that story.”
“I avoid elucidating them on the conclusion of the battle,” Svenson replied.
“At least you see the prudence in that.”
“But to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Had some research material to go over,” Ian replied. “Took a cab. Give me a lift back home?”
“How could I refuse a friend?”

***

Sitting at a light on Santa Monica Boulevard, the music blasting on the CD player, Ian had to practically yell to be heard.
“I hope you know what you're doing, Erick,” Ian said.
“You've known me for over three centuries,” he said, turning the music down. “Have you ever known me to underestimate my enemies? How are the experiments going?
“Didn’t you just ask me last night?” he said. “They’re the same today as they were last night.”
The light turned green. Svenson stepped on the gas and the car lurched into motion.
“Work harder, Ian!” he said, emphatically. “Hire more people!”
“Oh, sure, I'll go put an ad in the paper,” he said, not even attempting to hide his sarcasm. “Vampire researchers wanted. Send resume to Holly Grove Memorial Hospital.”
“What is bothering you, Ian?” he said, swerving in and out of traffic as if the possibility of having an accident was of no concern to him. “Come on, man, spit it out.”
“Cole Archer became one of us last night,” he said, tersely.
Svenson slammed on the breaks, nearly causing the car in back to smash into a light pole to avoid a collision, and flashed an angry glare at him.

***
“How the hell did this happen?” Svenson spat as he lead Firth through the corridors of the hospital.
“You tell me,” Firth flashed back. “I didn’t agree to him being here.”
“For Christ’s sake, Ian,” he said as he pushed the double doors that lead to the juvenile ward aside, “why did I let Seth admit him?”
“The Senator promised a large endowment to get him in here,” Firth replied.
“Dammit! He knows that we don’t need that!”
“He’s only human,” Firth replied sarcastically.
“Perhaps we should rectify that.”
Opening the door to Cole’s room, they found it empty and the bed un-slept in. Svenson glanced back at Firth. “Kari Robertson?”
What greeted them in Kari’s room nearly terrified them.
“What do you want to do?”
“Dammit!”
“Dammit doesn’t do it.”
Slowly, Cole’s eyes began to flutter. He convulsed a bit.
“He’s turning.”
“I can see that, Ian,” Svenson said. “And there’s nothing we can do to stop it now.”
“What do we do?”
“Try to figure out how to explain this to the Senator?”
“Very funny.”
They backed out into the hallway and closed the door.
“Perhaps, and I mean only perhaps,” Svenson said, “we could separate him from the rest. Not let him know about what’s going on here. Tell him what he really is. The limitations. The powers.”
“Are you serious?”
“It may be the only way to contain any further contamination.”
“Erick, this insane.”
“I have a meeting tonight, Ian,” Svenson said. “I need you to make sure that one of ours gets to him as soon as he wakes. Clear?”
“Clear.”

***
Senator Archer’s ambitions and narcissism were immense. So intent was he on becoming president, he had his home study remodeled to resemble the Oval Office.
“Daddy, I have to ask you a question,” Tina said, bounding into the office without permission, putting on her best daddy’s little girl routine.
Her father sat behind the desk in his study, a mound of papers in front of him.
“What’s that matter, Tina?”
“I have a report due on Monday morning for American History,” she said.
“And you want me to help?” he said, beaming with anticipation.
“Well, not actually.”
He seemed deflated.
“I have to do the report myself,” she said. “Well, I have to do it with Morgan. We have to do it together.”
“And?”
“I have to stay over her house this weekend.”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” he said, waving dismissively.
“Daddy, it’s Morgan,” she said. “You’ve known her since she was a baby. You play golf with her father, Judge Singleton. God, she’s practically your daughter too.”
“All right, sweetheart,” he ordered, “but the detail stays in the limousine outside. Understand?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“I have to go to Chicago for a speech, but you can call me if you need me,” he said. “I don’t want you going outside without your Secret Service escort. Okay?”
“Of course, daddy,” she said. “What’s in Chicago?”
“Union workers.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” It was amazing to her that all she had to do was act like a four year old and she could get her father to acquiesce to almost anything.
“When can I go see Cole?”
“Now, sweetie,” he said, his faux, practiced look of concern on his face, “you heard what the doctor said. Cole has to concentrate on his therapy.
“If you win the election, daddy,” she said, “are you going to get Cole out?”
“Well, of course I am, sweetie,” he replied. “Couldn’t very well have him sitting in an institution while we’re in the White House, could we?”
“Not at all,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Well, I have to go get ready. I’m going to eat dinner at Morgan’s house.”
“Okay, sweetie,” he said, not realizing how much he had been taken.





Chapter 10
A sleep like no other sleep soon overtook Cole. As his head hit the pillow, drunk with the loss of his own blood and the ingestion of Kari’s, his mind raced with questions. Touching his neck, he felt the wounds that she had caused. There were several more than he thought should be there, as if he had been attacked by an animal rather than a seventeen year old girl in an insane asylum.
Next to him, she lay in the deepest sleep he had ever seen. He pushed her, but she did not budge. She hardly took a breath. And she felt cold.
Slowly, he tried to stand, but he found his strength began to wane with the effort.
“Kari?” he whispered, because he could barely speak louder than that. “Kari, can you hear me?
But she could not.
In his stomach, he felt a tumult beginning. Heartburn. Worse than heartburn. The pain exacerbated to the point where he almost could not take it. Doubled over in agony, he felt as if some unseen claw was ripping his guts out. Sweat spewed from his body, soon soaking his clothes and his hair.
Unseen fire burned his flesh, and he tore at his clothes to try to quench the flame.
Will you come with us? The voice crashed into him like the roar of a waterfall.
“Who are you?” he cried, though his mouth made no sound. “Where are you?”
We offer you life, the voice intoned, in death.
“What are you talking about?”
In the darkness, as his eyes adjusted, he could see an amorphous form. Like nothing he had ever seen, except in Sci-Fi movies.
You have taken the first step to join us.
“Join you?”
You must decide.
“Decide what?”
Do you choose life, the voice said, or oblivion?
“I don’t understand?”
You must worship us, the voice said, or you will cease.
“Cease?”
Cast your gaze into the void.
Turning, but seeing nothing, he turned back. “What is this?”
Nothing.
“Nothing?”
Lifelessness.
Death.
“I’m too young to die,” Cole said, his voice quavering with fear.
Then you choose us?





Chapter 11
Lying in the bed next to Kari, Cole appears to be dead. His eyes are open, diverged, pupils fixed, dilated. His skin has a ghastly pallor. As the sun begins to rise outside, a pulse begins in a vein on his forehead.
Suddenly, like an explosion of fear, Cole blasts awake, gasping for breath. Kari instantly woke, grabbed him, and pulled him back down to the bed. “It’s all right, Cole!” she said, cradling his head. “It’s all right! Calm down. Calm down.”
In his mouth, the transformation was more evident. His canines had enlarged and he had to struggle to avoid stabbing his lip with them.
“What the fuck was that?” Cole said, his eyes darting around the darkened room.
“I sorry, Cole,” she said, “I should've told you.”
Shaken, Cole nodded, and said, “It would have been easier.”
“There wasn’t enough time,” she said. “I had no choice. I didn’t really want to do it, but I had to.”
Cole glared at her, then he tuned away.
“It was either that or they’d kill you, Cole,” she said, touching his face.
“Doctor Svenson knows about this?”
“He’s one of us,” she said. “But he doesn’t know half of what goes on here.”
“This is fucked up,” Cole said, standing at the mirror. He could see himself. “I thought you couldn’t…”
“Not all of the legends are true,” she said. For a moment, she stood at the mirror and gazed at Cole, admiringly.
“What?” he asked, feeling her eyes all over him.
“Sebastian will want to see you,” she said, tugging on his arm and pulling him out of the room.

***

Kari led Cole into the courtyard. As they made their way through the throng, the others greeted him with more affection than they did before. Like a bird, Sebastian swooped in and took Cole from Kari.
“Good evening, comrade,” he said, wrapping his arm around him, “and welcome to the Asylum. How was your transformation?”
Cole just shook his head and exhaled greatly.
“Kinda like getting your balls run over by a train, huh?” he said with a laugh. “Time to go out,” he said, without addressing the others, but they all joined him as the poured out of the Courtyard like a swarm of bees, searching for honey.
It amazed Cole that, without any verbal command, the entire company simply moved out of the Courtyard. Even he was swept up in the wave of motion.
In a parking lot not connected directly to the main parking lot, dozens of sports cars were parked. In moments, they filled all the cars and blasted out of the parking lot.
In a convertible Porsche, Sebastian at the wheel, Cole in the passenger’s seat, and Kari sitting between them, they blasted down Sunset, heading toward the Beverly Center. This was a place he rarely went. It was Tina's shrine to all things available on daddy’s Platinum American Express®.
A symphony of screeches accompanied the children as they entered the parking area. Like a flock of frenzied seagulls, they practically flew through parking area and into the mall.
Blasting through the upper level, like lemmings, the slip over the rail and float down to the sofas, scaring the shit out of Mortal shoppers. Kari and Sebastian stand on either side of Cole as he stared down at the rest.
Sebastian put his arm around him and said, “Nothing Mortal can hurt you now. Not even the fall.”
With no hesitation, Kari, followed by Sebastian, jumped down to the sofas.
A little self-conscious, Sebastian slipped his leg over the side as people watched him.
“Come on, Cole!” Kari said.
“Fuck it,” he said as he jumped over the guardrail down to the next level. Flopping in between Kari and Sebastian, checking himself to make sure he was okay, he said, “Okay, that's weird.”
“What a rush, huh?” Sebastian said.
“Yeah,” he said, breathlessly. Cole just stared off into space, a questioning look on his face.
“Cole,” he said, “ask your question.”
“Dr. Svenson's,” he said, “he’s one of us?”
“Yeah,” he said, “what about it?”
“He runs the Asylum?”
“He does.”
“Doesn't he get upset about us going out like this?”
“Svenson runs the Asylum,” Sebastian said, “but I run us.”
“It’s a strange setup, Cole,” Kari interjected, “but it works. We don’t bother the docs and they don’t bother us.”
“They’re trying to find a way to free us from the need for blood,” Sebastian said.
“We hope to be able to walk in daylight then,” Kari said.
The moment Kari uttered those words, Cole’s mind wandered back to the time when he first walked the corridor and saw Doobie awake. Part of him wanted to say something, but he was not sure what to say.
“Time to eat,” Kari said.

***
Doctor Svenson breezed into the juvenile ward and went directly to Sebastian’s room.
Empty.
A wave of anger washed over his face.
At Nurse Morris’ desk, he slammed his hands down and demanded, “Where is he?”
A look of abject fear on her face, having not seen the doctor in such a state before, she said, “He's gone, Doctor. They've all gone out for the night. They didn't say where.”
“Nurse Morris,” Svenson said, attempting to calm himself, “you have nothing to fear from me. You are on our side. But from now on, whenever the little ones fly the coop without letting us know, you should inform Doctor Firth or me immediately. Okay?”
“Okay, Doctor.”
***
“I’m not sure I like this,” Morgan said, staring at herself in the mirror.
“Look, Morg,” Tina said, “by the time you’ve been there a half an hour, you won’t give a shit how you look. Instantly, she opened her hand and revealed two small capsules with a brown clump of crystals inside.
“Omigod, you scored already?”
“Party is my middle name,” she said with a devious smile.
“How’d you get it past the SS?”
“You’d be surprised what a smile and a little sashay can do on a government man,” she said as she popped one of the capsules into her mouth, and washed it down with a giant glass of water. Instantly, Morgan took the other capsule from her and slammed it down. “We should be coming on by the time we get there.”
“I’m trying to think,” Morgan said, “should I dance my brains out, or fuck my brains out?”
“Either way,” Tina said with a girlish giggle, “it shouldn’t take took long.”
“You bitch!” Morgan said, slamming her down on the bed with a pillow.
After a moment, Tina screamed from under the pillow, “I give! I give!”
“Triumphant!” Morgan yelled, raising her hands in the air. “I win again! Queen of the pillow fight!” She flopped down on the bed next to Tina, pulled a joint from her bra, sparked it up, and took a hell of a drag off it. Passing it to Tina, she said, “All right, Bitch, after we fry our brains tonight, I suggest we roll our cute little asses up to Holly Grove Memorial, break in, and rescue your big brother from the depths of depravity.”
“When was the last time we were able to do anything after a party?” she asked. “Besides, I don’t know if I could find the place if I wanted to.”
“Well, I know where it is,” Morgan replied. Pulling a piece of paper from her desk, she said, “I went on the Net today and I printed out the directions.”
Holding in a drag from the joint, Tina took the paper from her and looked at it. “It’ll take an hour an a half,” she said. “And the party isn’t over till like six in the morning.”
“So we leave early.”
“I don’t know,” Tina replied. “I think we need to plan this out a little better.”
“Oh, please, wimpazoid,” she said, rolling onto her belly. “The election is in less than a month. Now, think of what it’s going to be like when it goes from Senator, Presidential candidate, to President-Elect, Raymond Archer. Do you think it’s going to be easier then? No, my dear, Tina. First Daughter, Tina. Joint, please,” she said, reaching for what was left of it. “No, we have to act fast.”
Tina gazed up at her, shot-gunned the smoke. “This sucks so bad. I hate making decisions when I’m high.”
“Life sucks get a condom,” she said, pulling Tina from the bed. “Let’s go, bitch. We won’t be able to drive soon.”

***
Washing into the theater like a wave of flowing blackness, the brood seemed to insinuate itself into every empty seat in the middle section, filtering in among other patrons. Sebastian and Kari sat on either side of Cole, and Tony sat next to Kari. Behind them, two teenage girls and one teenage boy sat, all three dressed in party-kid attire. Sebastian and the others ignore them.
“Aside from the fact that you can't get a good tan,” Sebastian said, “it's wonderful.”
“I haven't had a tan in years,” Kari said, staring at her white skin.
“Tanning can give you skin cancer,” Cole said.
“Like we worry about that,” Sebastian said with a snicker.
“I'd just like to see the sun in front of me,” Kari said. “Not just in pictures, y'know? I want to see the sun. The real sun.”
“As soon as Ian is done with his research,” Sebastian said, “we'll be able to go into the sun again. I know we can walk in the sun again.”
Josh who sat behind them began to lean forward to listen better.
“Being a vampire has its perks,” Sebastian said, “but not seeing the sun ain’t one of them.”
“I want to surf in the daytime,” Tony said with a forlorn look in his eyes. “I mean, night surfing is cool. And I’d like to do it, you know, for fun. But it sucks to only be able to do night surfing.”
Finally, Josh could take it no longer. He leaned forward and tapped Sebastian on the shoulder. “I’m Lestat. This is Claudia. And that’s Gabrielle.”
Sebastian smiles sardonically at Kari, then Cole. He turned, flashed his razor sharp fangs, and said, “Really? That's funny, because I know Lestat.”
All three of the kids sat back, looking as if they wished they could disappear.
“Let me introduce you to him,” Sebastian said, as he pointed to Cole, who turned and flashed his fang-filled smile.
“She's Claudia,” he said, pointing to Kari, who also flashed a smile.
“Hi, kids,” she said. “Had a nice life yet?”
The kids turned white as sheets and began breathing harder.
“I think Gabriel's went to get pop corn,” she said. “But I’ll introduce you when she gets back. She’s love to eat, I mean, meet you.”
Sebastian, with a devilish look on his face, sliced open his neck and offered it to Kari, who lapped at the blood as it trickled down his neck.
Instantly, the kids got up and moved to other seats far away from Sebastian. Sebastian, Cole, Kari and Tony break into laughter. As the house lights go down,
Slowly, with almost teenage aplomb, Cole put his arm around Kari.
Sebastian eyed them with guarded jealousy, using the cover of darkness to hide his feeling.
On the screen, a huge set of red lips, almost like the Rocky Horror Picture Show lips, appeared. A finger came to the lips and the sound of someone shushing the people in the theater filled the air.
In the front rows of the theater, a group of college-aged kids, most of them jock football players, began to jeer the snipe. The largest of the group, a testosterone-filled freak in a UCLA jacket, threw a bunch of popcorn at the screen. “Shush yourself, bitch!” he yelled at the screen.
“Fucking kids,” Sebastian said as he nodded to Tony.
Nonchalantly, Tony stood up and walked down the isle.
“What’s he going to do?” Cole asked.
“Create a wonderful viewing environment,” Sebastian said, sarcastically.
About half the size of the muscle-bound jock, Tony, who appeared almost frail, stood in front of the heckler. He looked at his jacket and saw the initials P.J. “Are you ashamed of your name, P.J?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Tony?”
“Tony?” P.J. said. “No, I think you’re name is little shit punk.”
The only sound in the theater was what was coming from the screen and the conversation between Tony and P.J. All others were engrossed in the contest in the front of the theater. Even P.J. began to feel all eyes on him. Even his friends.
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s Tony,” he said. “Are you that ashamed of your name, P.J.? I’m not ashamed of mine.”
“What do you want, punk?” P.J. said, a mocking smile on his face, growing angry with the attention.
“I really think you should keep quiet,” he replied. See, we came here to watch the movie. Not to listen to your fucking mouth.”
P.J.’s face immediately turned red as he stood up, showing the difference in their heights. “Is that so?”
Tony nodded, confidently as the Heckler pokes him in the chest. “Well, what are you going to do about it, Tiny?” he asked, becoming more and more ominous with every poke of his finger.
Tony waited a moment, glanced back at his friends, back at P.J., then laid him flat with one shot to the heart.
Cole, in shock, eyed Sebastian, who smiled, as Tony sauntered back to his seat to the applause of the entire theater, including P.J.’s friends.
The kids who said they were Lestat, Claudia and Gabriel, looked at each other, and then quickly left the theater.
***
From the top level, five stories down to street level, an escalator in the Beverly Center filled with the swarm.
“Time for a snack!” Sebastian yelled as they all practically flew down the entire length of the escalator, Sebastian running down the center.
At break-neck speed, the brood blasts down the freeway. Sebastian threw his arms up in the air and screamed with joy, nearly terrorizing Cole, who had not yet come to terms with his immortality. The car bulleted through traffic, nearly missing cars as it went. Other cars, driven by other vampires, followed behind him like a giant serpent, driving just as recklessly.
Cole held onto Kari, who wore a smirk on her face, for dear life.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Party! A rave,” Kari said. “You'll love it. Techno Pop bullshit. Loud music. Lots of drugs.” She licked his check and said, “Sex.”
“I know what a rave is, Kari,” he said as he nearly drove his tongue down her throat.
In the driver’s seat, Sebastian’s eyes bore into the two lovers.
Sebastian does a three-sixty in the parking lot and slammed the car into a space without hitting anything. He leaped from the car without opening the door and headed toward the nexus of the party, moving as if he was alone, but obviously at the vanguard of his flock.
The others followed behind and soon the parking lot is filled with the kids from the Asylum. They mixed in with the ravers. As the vampires make their way to the door, drug dealers breezed past them, proffering their wares. “X, doses, shrooms,” the dealers said, as the brood moved past them without paying any attention to them.
None of them paid the fee as they entered the rave.
Deafening techno music blared from inside the abandoned factory as Sebastian led them inside. Drug-crazed Ravers gyrated en masse in the middle of the floor. Others corralled around the outside of the dance floor. Completely naked, a couple copulated in the middle of the dance floor
Like a small island of flesh, the brood took over the place, then, as if by some unseen signal, they fanned out and dispersed into the crowd.
“It's not that difficult to get Mortals to do what you want, Cole,” Kari said as she gyrated next to him.
“Besides, if they didn't do what you wanted,” Tony said, “you could beat the shit out of them without breaking a sweat.”
“Pretty nuts, huh?” Sebastian said. The leader stood nearly motionless in the crowd, even as his friends danced with the Mortals.
Tony blended into the rave as Sebastian noticed Chrissy, Svenson’s student, dressed in a trashy, provocative dress, dancing in the mélange of bodies. She flashed a furtive glance in Cole's direction. Sebastian pointed to Kari.
“She's yours, Cole,” Kari said to him. “Go get her.”
Cole stopped moving, and stood still in the middle of the floor.
“What do I do?” Cole asked.
“It'll come to you,” she said. “It’s instinct.”
“Control yourself, Cole,” Sebastian said. “Don't kill her.”
“Take only what you need,” Kari said. “No more.”
“I don't know if I can do this.”
“Everybody feels this way at first,” she said. “Just remember, you’re not one of them anymore. You’re different. You’re one of us.”
Sebastian put his arm around Kari and led her away. Cole looked at Chrissy, and then slowly moved her way.
Near the door, as Sebastian pulled Kari close and said, “Keep an eye on him. If anyone recognizes him, kill them immediately and get him out of view.”
“All right,” she said, as she watched him head for the door. “Where’re you going?”
“I have some business to do.” He left without another words.
Kari stood alone at the door for a moment, scanning the crowd for dinner. After a moment, she noticed a couple of girls dancing together. They are Tina and Morgan.
Kari began to dance suggestively, making subtle movements. Moving slowly, but deliberately, she moved in their direction. In moments, she and Rachael began to dance in an overtly sexual manner. Touching. Kissing.

***
On his sofa in his darkened living room, Doctor Green slept on the sofa. The television was on, and a magazine draped over his chest. Sebastian entered quietly, and viewed the antiquated decorations in the place. Doctor Green woke, struggled to put on his glasses, and realized that he was not alone.
“Sebastian,” he said, stammering to consciousness, “what are doing here?
“What's up, Doc?” he asked with a smirk.
“Get out of here!” he said, standing and motioning for Sebastian to leave.
With disdain, Sebastian pushed him back down onto the sofa with the end of his cane and said, “The Inquisition's returned, Doc. You don't give me the answers I want, you're going to set up your sofa on that big barbecue stand down below.”
“What're you talking about?” he said, palpitating. “Does Dr. Svenson...”
“Shut up, Seth,” Sebastian said, hissing the words between his teeth.
Doctor Green reached for the phone, but with a lightening-fast move, Sebastian smashed his hand with the cane.
Writhing in pain, Doctor Green rolled on the sofa, holding his broken wrist.
Sebastian shook his head and sat next to him.
In tears, barely able to hold it together, Green asked, “What do you want?”
“I want to know, Seth,” he said, “what Dr. Svenson and Dr. Firth are up to. And you're going to tell me? Aren’t you, Seth?”

***
Cole and Chrissy make out in the alley behind the abandoned factor where the rave goes on.
“You X-ing?” she said.
“Yeah, you?” He lied.
“So hard!” she said, as she reached down between his legs. “I like you, Cole.”
With practiced dexterity, Chrissy pulled him out of his pants. At the same time, he pulled down her panties. With no further prelude, Cole plunges inside her. Screams of ecstasy pour from her mouth, as he pounds her harder and harder, driving her out of her mind
As if led by instinct, Cole trailed his way down her neck.
She moaned in ecstasy.
The scent of blood, pulsing beneath the surface of her skin was intoxicating, alluring. All Mortal control began to vanish. As beautiful as she was, as sexually attracted as he was to her, he saw her less and less as a person and more and more as sustenance.
Flashes of humanity coursed through him, but just as quickly, they vanished. Cole hesitated for a moment one more moment, smiled, baring his fangs, and then plunged them into her neck.
“Dammit, Cole!” she screamed. “What the fuck!”
But in moments, Chrissy’s life began to wane. Her protestations became nothing more than whimpers, as Cole drank the life out of her. “Cole, what are you doing?” she begged. “Stop it now.”
Chrissy began to swoon, her head falling limply on his shoulder.
Cole stopped drinking, and then let her down. Lying nearly lifeless on the ground, she continued to bleed. Kari entered the alley, ran to Chrissy and placed her fingers on the wounds.
“Sometimes the bleeding doesn't stop by itself,” she said. “If you're not going to kill them, you have to make sure to stop the bleeding. It only takes a second.
“Is she all right?” he said, a look on his face as if he had taken the strongest drug in the world.
“Next time don't take so much,” she said.
Like a bird, Sebastian swooped into the alley, angered at what he saw.
“God, she's turning blue,” he said.
“I think she’s dying, Sebastian,” she said. “What do you want me to do?”
“Fuck,” he said, as he stood and headed out of the alley. “Do what you have to and bring her with us. You should have stayed with him, Kari. I’m disappointed.”
Anger and hurt washes across Kari’s face as she rips open the veins on her wrist and pours some blood into Chrissy's mouth. After a moment, Chrissy came back to life, and began to greedily lap at the pouring blood. “Help me, Cole,” she said. Instantly, he helped Chrissy to her feet.
As they neared the end of the alley, the door to the party opened and Tina and Morgan staggered out, both of them holding their necks.
“Kari, where are you?” Tina called out. Struggling to see into the crowd, she sees Kari holding up Chrissy.
“Where is she?” Morgan said.
“I think that’s here there,” she said. “Kari!”
Kari reacted instinctively and turned back down the alley. Cole saw that she was looking back, and turned to see what she was looking for.
In the alley, Tina saw Cole’s face, and said, “Cole, is that you?”
Before she could take a step, the vanished into the night.
“That was Cole, Morgan!”
“He’s in a fucking hospital!”
“He’s here!” she said. “I know it!”
Driven sisterly love, she headed down the alley, but, too weak from loss of blood, she tripped and was too weak to get back to her feet fast enough.
“Cole,” she said, tears falling down her face.
“Let’s get to the car, Tina,” Morgan said. “Let’s go.”





Chapter 12
“And we all know what the current administration wants to do,” Raymond Archer said to an admiring crowd of Union workers, “the same thing they’ve been doing for the last eight years!”
The crowd of denim-clad iron workers burst into applause.
“What do you want to do about it?” he demanded, pointing his index finger toward the crowd, listening to their adoring response with his practiced smile stretched across his face. “I thought that’s what you wanted!”
Raymond turned back to where his campaign officials nodded their approval.
“We have less than a month to go before the election!” he said, in a calmer voice. “Not much time to change the hearts and minds of the American people, is there?”
“We can do it!” one of them said.
“We’re behind you, Ray!” boomed another.
“I know you can,” he said, trying to sound like he was one of them. “On November fourth, I want you all to go out to the polls. I want you to get all your friends—our friends—to go to the polls. Get your mothers! Your fathers! Sisters! Brothers! Get people on the street! Get them all to vote for a bright future for all Americans!”
Raymond bathed in the applause from the adulating crowd.
“It’ll be a great new year,” he said, as he waved to the gathering. “See you in Washington!”
As he walked off the stage, waving his hands in the air, his campaign manager, Roger Daly, handed him a cell phone, and said, “We’re up another ten percent in the polls, Ray. Keep this up, November will be Christmas.”
“Who’s on the phone?”
“Lacy.”
“What’s up, dear?” he asked into the phone and Roger walked ahead of him toward the waiting limousine.
“It’s Tina, Ray,” she said, frantically. “She’s not home. I called her cell and she doesn’t answer!”
“She’s at Morgan’s,” he said, matter-of-factly. “They’re doing some kind of report for school. She probably turned the phone off to concentrate.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she blasted. “God, Raymond, I was running around the house frantic! I was about to call the Secret Service guys to…”
“Lacy!” he said to startle her back, “Lacy, it’s okay. She’s fine. The Secret Service is right out side of Morgan’s house. You can call them if you want.”
“All right, Raymond,” she said, “but next time you tell me in advance.”
“You were busy,” he said, “I was busy. I’m sorry. I meant to tell you, and I thought that the Secret Service would.”
“I’m going to call them,” she said. “The Secret Service, I mean.”
“I think that’s a good idea, Lacy,” replied the Senator. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
“I love you,” she said, as she heard the phone go dead.
Instantly, Lacy dialed the phone of the lead agent on her daughter’s detail. “Hello, this is Mrs. Archer.”
“Hello, Mrs. Archer,” the agent said.
“I’m just concerned about Tina,” she said. “Is she okay?”
“I can assure you, Mrs. Archer,” he said. “She’s been in her friend’s house all night long. Light’s still on. I’m sure they’re still studying.”

***
Tina and Morgan struggled to get into the room without being seen by the Secret Service Agents outside.
“Oh my God,” Morgan said in a staccato manner as she flopped down on the bed next to Tina, who beat her to it, “I feel like a truck ran over me.”
“What the fuck was that?” Tina asked. “That bitch bit me on the neck,” she said, bouncing up to look in the mirror. “Look at this. It’s so way worse than a hicky. It’s so going to leave a scar.”
Rolling onto her belly, Morgan said, “I feel like I’m going to pass out.”
“Morgan?”
“What?”
“I saw Cole,” Tina said, slipping back down onto the bed.
“No way,” she replied. “He’s in the nut farm.”
“I don’t know,” she said, lighting a cigarette. “That guy looked like Cole.”
“Key word – looked like,” she said. “They say we all have a twin somewhere. Cole’s was at the party.”
“No, Morg,” she said, “that was Cole. He looked back at me for a second. We locked eyes. He knew it was me, and I know it was him.”
Morgan glared at her through drug-filled eyes, and said, “Well, tomorrow, we shake the G-Men. We go there. Find a way in.”
All Tina could do, as the lack of blood began to sap her energy, was nod her head.
Morgan kissed her hard on the lips and said, “She was hot though, huh?”
“Dyke,” Tina said, laughing and pushing her face away. In moments, both of them were asleep.















Chapter 13
Doctor Svenson sat alone in his private study, a snifter of French brandy on the table beside him, a Davidoff cigar dangling between his fingers. Part of his library was filled with collections of his autobiographies, many written on parchment scrolls during his Mortal life in Rome. Only he and the other doctors were allowed in this most private room. The texts were too valuable, and in some ways, too sensitive.
Often, in times of stress, he would escape to his study, pour a snifter of brandy, smoke a cigar or pipe, and settle in for some private reading. He never really forgot what had happened in his life, but it was interesting to read what he had written over two millennia ago.
On his lap sat the original Fifteenth Century, Gutenberg printing of his first diary. As he turned the pages, the smell of the old paper, the feel of it in his hands, took him back in time. Yes, this tome was only five hundred years old, but the information was that which he put to paper before the birth of the Christian savior.
As he sat with the old book, his mind drifted back to the time when this writing began. It was the time of Caesar, Gaius Julius, that is. Caesar was his distant cousin. As a Tribune of Rome, and nephew of a Roman Senator, I was privileged in Roman society. He knew the major players in the Caesarian passion: Marc Antony, Brutus, Crasus, Pompey, and Sulla. He knew them. And they knew him. You would think that time would have dulled his memory of that time, but he remembered them all as clearly now as I did then.
Sometimes, he thought to write the true history of the Roman Empire, as he knew it. But no one would believe him. He had not the credentials to say what he knew as an axiom. And some of the events he could relate were never recorded – except by himself – so there was no corroborating evidence. At times, when he would sit in the back of a lecture hall as some historian, some expert, would go on and on about events in Roman history, or any history about which he had personal knowledge, it was all he could do to stop from jumping out of his seat and say what was on his mind. But he would bite his tongue. He was a professor at that damn university. He couldn’t very well tell people that he was around before the Christian era.
He hardly noticed as Ian entered the study and poured himself a brandy. “What are you reading?” Ian asked, as he procured a cigar, lit it and sat down across from him.
“My first diary,” Svenson replied. “It’s so strange to read the words again. I'm considering using the actual edition in my class.”
“I still think it unwise,” he said.
“They think it's a fairy tale, Ian,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “No harm will come of it. Trust me.” Svenson gazed across the space between them, studying his friend’s facial emotions. Ian Firth had always been able to guard his emotions, and kept them from reaching his face. But Svenson could see deeper inside him. “You fear too much, Ian.”
“You fear too little, Erick.”
“You’re the dearest friend I’ve had in more centuries than I can remember,” he said. “I do value your counsel. I do not fear Sebastian. I have been remiss in letting him live. I should have taken your counsel years ago and cut him down. It will be more difficult now. The others respect him more than they do us.”
“They live with him,” he said. “We’re like parents. They do not respect us. Erick, I think you’ve become complacent regarding your immortality.”
“How so?” he said, regarding him.
“You and I both know that we can be killed,” he said. “How many of our own have we personally dispatched? How about Rose?”
“Do not even speak her name, Ian,” he said, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and sadness. “I do not want to hear it.”
“The point is this,” he continued, “you keep, in those books on the shelves there across the room, all the information needed to bring us down. You take them out and read them to mortals. Sometimes, I cannot believe that you allow yourself to do this. It is, to my mind, insane.”
Ian paused for a moment, expecting a retort from his friend, but none was forthcoming, and he continued, “You do not fear death, or you do not think it can happen to you.”
“History has proven to us, my dear friend,” he said, “that anyone can be killed. I do not believe myself to be immune to this. I just do not see how that little shit can accomplish my murder.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” Ian said. “He has all the time in the world to plan, to think. And he knows you.”
“He knows nothing.” Svenson slammed the book closed and flashed his eyes toward the door. Instantly, he blasted across the room, almost faster than the eye could perceive. With lightning fast moves, he opened the door, snatched Sebastian from the midst of the others, and threw him into a chair as he closed the door.
“You impertinent little troll!” Svenson spat as he leered over Sebastian. “How dare you disobey me!”
“Whatever are you talking about, Erick?” he asked, brushing himself off and fixing his clothes. No hint of fear appeared in his eyes.
“You little shit!” Svenson snarled. “You let Kari turn Cole Archer.”
“I did what?”
“Do you have the slightest idea why I'm upset?”
Sebastian shook his head impertinently.
“He's a Senator's son, for Christ's sake!”
Ian sat back, not wanting to interject, but Sebastian glanced at him with a smirk every once in a while, just to antagonize him. “I had nothing to do with that,” he said. “It was Kari’s idea.”
“Bull shit.”
“It was Kari's idea,” Sebastian replied. “She wanted him to stay, so she made him.”
“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” Svenson said. “I know you're lying!”
“She likes him,” Sebastian said with a faux smile on his face. “You know what teenage love is like.”
“Yeah, right,” Svenson said, “Kari hasn’t been a teenager for almost three decades.” Svenson took a moment to compose himself. He pickup his brandy snifter, swirled the brownish-amber liquid inside, and took a sip. After a moment, he slowly turned to face Sebastian. “Your position here is tenuous at best, young man. When Rose brought you here, I saw a young man of great promise. That is why I allowed her to make you. You had ambition. But you let your carnal lusts, your lusts for Rose, override your industry. When she left again” –
Sebastian glared hard at him, rage fermenting only slightly beneath the surface.
– “I could see your pain,” he said, trying to present a compassionate face. “I tried, through whatever counsel I could provide, to help you back. But you never were the same. And I missed the Sebastian I knew then. I wish he would come back.”
Svenson’s words did not mollify Sebastian at all. In fact, it enraged him even more.
“But understand this, Sebastian,” Svenson continued, “My will is stronger than yours. If you continue to go against me, I will crush you like the insignificant pest you are.”
The anger in the room was palpable. Even Ian felt uncomfortable, not wanting to get in the middle of any battle.
“Now get out of here,” he ordered. “The sun's almost risen. We must all get to bed.”
“Sure, Erick,” he said insolently. Sebastian stood and headed for the door, never taking his eyes from Svenson's.
“Don't test me, Sebastian,” he said. “Go. Go now.”
“Wouldn't think of it, Erick,” he said as he left them. As soon the door closed, Ian let out a big sigh, as Svenson slammed his hand against the table.
“We may have to get rid of him like I did his friend,” Svenson said.
“You made the monster,” Ian said. “I think this is your job.”

***
Storming down the corridor toward the juvenile wing, Sebastian barely controlled his anger. He wanted to tear Svenson and his lackey apart. But he did not know how to kill another vampire. It was information that did not reside in him, and that which Svenson did not divulge.
In his room, it was all he could do to contain his rage. His room was decorated with mementos of his life, nearly eight decades of it. But most of the photographs were of himself and Rose, his only true love. His eyes bore into her pictures, hoping against hope for some answer to his quest.
“Oh, Rose, my dear Rose,” he cried, “please tell me what to do. How can get rid of his this fucking piece of shit?”
When no answer came, he began to storm around the room, ranting, screaming. In the other rooms, the others could hear him, and all were worried.
Cole and Kari sat on his bed, in his Spartan, brand new room and listened to the tirade through the paper-thin walls.
“What a temper,” Cole remarked.
“I think he'd try to kill us all if he ever got really mad,” Kari said, pulling Cole closer to her. She rolled down the sheets and got under them.
“This isn't really mad?” he asked.
“This is nothing,” she said, pull Cole closer. “The sun's almost here. He'll fall asleep when it does.”
“I don't feel tired,” Cole said.
“You will,” she said as she cleaved into him. “You can't fight it. Don't try,” she said as she kissed him very gently, and then turned off the lights.
But though Kari seemed to be slipping into the same death-like sleep she had the previous night, Cole did not feel the same way. In the other room, the sounds of Sebastian ranting about the room began to calm.
The sun must be rising, he thought. He felt inside his mouth with his tongue and felt his enlarged canine teeth. But then, as if by magic they began to shrink back into his gums. He gazed over at Kari, who seemed to be sleeping deeper than he had ever seen anyone sleep in his life. She was barely breathing. With a gentle hand, he tried to wake her, but nothing made her stir from this sleep.
Not sure what to do, Cole rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, hoping that he too could fall asleep.

***

Sebastian began to fall into what appeared to be a drunken stupor. His face became lax and his arms fell limply at his side. His legs turned to rubber and he finally stopped yelling. Falling onto his bed, not bothering to get into his night clothes, he pulled a picture of Rose from the night stand and held it close to his chest. He tried to speak, but the sun had risen.





Chapter 14
“What is all this, Rose?” he asked, holding his hand to his neck as they walked into the night.
“We have to get back before sunrise,” she said.
“Get back where?”
“Our new home,” she said, pulling him along away from the pier.
“It’s far away,” she said, “so we have to go as fast as we can. Do you still have your car?”
“Of course I do,” he said. “It’s parked on Santa Monica Boulevard.”
“We must get there fast,” she said
“Stop this!” he said, pulling her to a stop. “Stop this now!”
“Sebastian,” she said, tears in her eyes, “we must go now. There is no time to explain. You must believe me.”
A moment passed as Sebastian sought understanding as Rose reached out her hand to him. “Please, Sebastian,” she said, “please come with me.”
Driving as fast as their nineteen forty Packard, the car that Rose’s father bought them just after their engagement, would travel. For almost an hour, they said nothing. They simply stared at the road ahead, watched as the street signs passed them by.
“I wanted to come to see you earlier, Sebastian,” she said, not turning to look at him.
Sebastian said nothing.
“Doctor Svenson wouldn’t allow it at first,” she continued. “He thought it would be dangerous.”
“But he changed his mind?”
She turned to him, and saw that he had not taken his eyes from the road.
“He said, last night, that if you agreed to come with me, to be one of us,” she said, turning to him, “that I could see you.”
“What if I didn’t agree to come with you?”
She swallowed hard, licked her lips and said, “I would have had to kill you.”
“How would you have felt about killing me?” he asked. “I mean, if I didn’t come.”
“I don’t know if I could,” she said, “but something changes inside you after a little bit of time. Maybe that’s why he wouldn’t let me come to see you earlier.”
“I don’t feel that way.”
“You haven’t fed yet,” she said. “You haven’t truly become one of us yet. It takes time.”
“I don’t want to feel that way.”
“You can’t stop it,” she said, “not now.”
“What are you talking about, Rose?”
“When you took my blood,” she said, touching his hand, “you made the choice. It’s irrevocable. The only way to stop it is to die. And you can’t die. Not ever, Sebastian. We can be together for all time. Just like we planned. You love me?”
“Of course, I love you.”
“Sebastian,” she said, “don’t you understand? We can do all the things we wanted to do. We can be together. We can make love all night long.”
They had never made love. That they planned for their honeymoon.
“We can still do that?”
“There are many things we can do that Mortals can do,” she said.
For a moment, his mind flashed to the idea that Rose was no longer a virgin. Perhaps this Doctor Svenson had had his way with her when he drank her blood.
“No, Sebastian,” she said, holding his hand tightly, “I’m still pure that way.”
Part of him was relieved that no other had touched her.
“I would not let them.” She slid closer to him. “You’re the only one for me. We’re soul mates.”
“What?”
“When I first met you on the pier,” she said, “I felt – even before you said a word – that I knew you. I’d always known you. It was more than just the fact that I loved the way you looked, that sparkle in your eyes. The way your hair curled from under your straw hat. The shyness that you overcame to talk to me. I loved you before you spoke your first word.”
“We can love?”
“Of course, we can.”
Hours had passed since they left Santa Monica. Off in the distance was an immense iron gate framed between two large stone columns, walls made of stone on either side. They sat in the car before the gate. Nothing happened for a moment. Just as Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, the gates opened, as if by magic.
“Go ahead, Sebastian,” she said. “It’s okay. He’s waiting for us.”

***
Doctor Svenson greeted them with a smile on his face.
“Welcome, my young friend,” he said, extending his hand. “Sebastian, is it?”
“Yes. Sebastian.”
“I am Doctor Erick Svenson,” he said. “You are exactly as your dear Rose described to you.”
Sebastian searched for Rose’s eyes. They sparkled with a scintillating quality in the near dark of the study. Svenson motioned for him to take a seat at a large wooden table. “Nice table,” he said, as he sat.
“Italian,” he said. “From northern Italy. It’s made of ash wood. One of my favorite woods. The chairs as well. Beautiful, aren’t they? I love beautiful things. I love all the beauty that life has to offer.” Flourishing his hands out in a welcoming gesture, he said, “Welcome to Holly Grove Memorial Hospital, Sebastian.”
“What?” he asked. “A hospital?”
“An institution for those with mental problems.”
“I don’t have mental problems,” he said defensively.
“I did not mean to imply such a thing,” Svenson said. “One thing that binds us together, all of us, Sebastian, is the need for blood. Human blood. We must have it. Without it, we die.”
“I thought we were immortal.” As he spoke, he could feel something happening inside him. Something strange was happening. It was a sensation he had never felt in his life, something he could not even explain using words.
Svenson could sense the change taking place inside him. Soon, he would go through what all of them had to go through. The pain of rebirth would soon begin, the pain of the death of his Mortal life and the reincarnation into his vampire life.
“We are,” Svenson said, lighting a cigar, blowing the smoke into the room, “to a certain extent. You see, Sebastian, what you must understand is this, when you drink of the human blood, it kills your life. The only way to stay alive is to take the life from the Human blood.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“Sebastian,” Rose said, “Doctor Svenson has been trying to find a way to free us from the need for human blood for almost a century. But it’s difficult without a laboratory. Without others.”
“What I plan to do,” Svenson said, “with your help, and with Rose’s, is to build on the foundation of this facility, a place where we can find a way to live forever without the need for blood. We can be just like the Mortals. But be immortal.”
“How do you propose to do that?”
“Rose has told me much about you, Sebastian,” Svenson said, as he poured a brandy and sat down next to him. “She told me how you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps after your parent’s unfortunate demise. How you educated yourself. How you so impressed Rose’s father that he brought you into his company, and you made him even more profitable than he had been before.”
Rose’s family flashed into his mind. How they would miss him now, as much as they had missed Rose. It made him feel sad to know that he might not ever see them again.
“I need someone like that in my organization,” he said. “I have a scientist – another scientist – besides myself. He’s a doctor. A physician. His name is Ian Firth. He’s been working with me for the past century to find a way, but it’s been difficult without” – he gazed around the room – “well, without what we plan to build here.”
“Which is?”
“On one side of the building in which we now stand,” he began, “will sit a ward for genuine mental patients. I have a medical degree in psychiatry. I will treat those patients legitimately. On the other side,” he continued, motioning to the correct location, “will stand a building which will be a carbon copy of the other. However, in this ward we will place others like ourselves. We will feed on the others, on the Mortals. We will use our blood, which Doctor Firth will draw on frequent occasions, and use it to experiment. Hopefully, given time, money – which I have amassed in great quantity over the course of my life – I trust that Doctor Firth will find a solution to our quandary.”
Sebastian sat across from Doctor Svenson, not sure what to make of all he had experienced since he first reunited with Rose on the Santa Monica Pier earlier in the evening, not sure what to make of Doctor Svenson. The sickness that was his conversion, that was his Mortal life ending, and his new life beginning, began to ravish him, though the symptoms were still not yet that acute. He felt weak. He could feel it coming, but he was not sure what it was.
“May I ask you a question?”
“Of course, my new friend,” he said, “please, ask any question you wish.”
“How long have you been alive?”
“Well, I could give you the exact date,” he said, “but let’s just say that I fought under the command of Guis Julius Caesar.”
“That’s over two thousand years,” Sebastian said, stunned by the revelation.
“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling. “Not bad for a man my age,” he said, showing himself off.
“And we can’t die?”
Svenson smiled a beguiling smile, hiding his true feelings, and said, “Not so far. It seems that we have discovered the fountain of youth.”
“Are there others?” he asked, “besides us?”
Prevaricating with his eyes, but with such practiced deftness, he said, “I see them rarely.”
“Where are they?”
“We should save that for another night, Sebastian,” he said, rising from his chair. “You have quite a night ahead of you.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, concern on his face.
“Rose will help you,” he said. “The sun is almost risen.”
“What happens?”
“I’m afraid that you must, as we all have, experience it for yourself,” he said. “In the evening, Sebastian, Rose will give you a taste from our private stock. It will sustain you.” He said with a hint of a smile, “Though, I can’t vouch for the taste,” Svenson walked out of the room, as Rose ushered Sebastian out another door.
“We have to go, Sebastian “Rose, tell me what’s going on.”
“Follow me,” she said, opening the door, “and I’ll tell you everything.”
Down the hall from the study, Rose opened the door to the room in which she had been living since she came to Holly Grove. It was a simple place, but well-apportioned. It was typical Rose.
“I feel sick,” Sebastian said, leaning on Rose’s shoulder.
“I know,” she said, leading him to her bed. “Lie down here.”
Slowly, Sebastian laid down on the bed. Rose helped him off his shoes and pulled the covers over him and over her. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “It won’t last long,” she said. “I promise. You’ll be fine. In the morning, Doctor Svenson will give us some of the blood he has stored in the basement. It’ll keep us alive. We’ll be together forever.”
“You promise?”
“Of course, I do, my love,” she said, kissing him again. “Of course I do.”





Chapter 15
Tina staggered into her room, clearly shaken by the experience.0. Bite marks clearly showed on her neck, though they were almost healed and looked more like bruises than puncture wounds. Since she was alone, she made no attempt to hide them. With hardly a thought, she slipped out of her clothes, then stumbled into the bathroom.
Standing in front of the ornate shower, she turned on the shower, putting her hands in the water to make it the right temperature. Before she could get into the shower, she heard the door to her room open. “Is anybody there?”
“Tina?” the voice boomed. It was her father.
Quickly, she donned a robe and wrapped a towel around her neck. Cursing, she left the bathroom, “I don’t want to deal with this shit right now.”
“Where have you been?” her father asked in a brusque manner. “You had your mother worried half to death.”
“Knock much, dad? “ she asked, flopping on the bed.
“What makes you think you can just waltz in here at seven-thirty in the morning?”
She instantly became the little con artist she was. “Daddy, I was with Morgan. You know that. I asked you if I could go.”
“The Secret Service Agents went inside to check on you, and they found Morgan asleep, and you gone,” he said. “Explain that.”
“We watched a movie last night after we got done working,” she said. “I got up early, and I felt like coming home, so I just called a cab.”
“You ignored your Secret Service protection!”
“Daddy, they’re such a drag.”
“Tina, you're sixteen years old,” and your father’s running for president. You could be a target. God knows what terrorists might do to you.”
“I’m sorry, daddy,” she said, coquettishly.
“I worry about you,” he said, pulling her closer. “And I don't want you to become like your brother.”
“Daddy, Cole’s not that bad,” she said, angry that she even brought him up.
“He’s a troubled child,” he said, “and I don’t want you acting like him.”
“Daddy, I won't embarrass you and your campaign,” she said, wanting to choke on her words, “but I need to take a shower. I reek.”
“You seem fine to me,” he said, his politician’s smile fully in force.
“Please, daddy,” she said, “I smell like a dumpster.”
“All right, go get your shower,” he said. “But this is not over, young lady. I want to see you later.”
“Of course, daddy,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.
“All right, sweetheart,” he said, hugging her, “I have to go to Florida tomorrow. Now I don’t want any craziness. Okay?”
“Of course, daddy,” she said. “You go knock `em dead in Florida.”
The Senator patted her on the head, kissed her again, and left the room. As soon as the door closed, Tina’s smile vanished and she headed for the bathroom.
Pulling the towel from around her neck, Tina leaped up to the mirror, and looked at the wounds on her neck. The scabs had all but healed, and most of what was left was bruising. “What the fuck?”

***
Svenson downed a large glass of blood, making a strange face, as Ian entered the laboratory with a computer printout in his hands. Ian tossed the printouts to Svenson, who deftly caught it and examined the pages.
“I can't figure it out, Erick,” he said. “Nothing makes sense. Nothing I do works.”
“You're inventive, my friend,” he said. “You’re brain works on a different level then the rest of us. I’m sure you’ll find a solution in time. And we have time, don’t we?”
Ian poured a glass of blood and took a big swallow. “God, I hate this stuff when it’s not warm.”
“You sound spoiled,” he said with a laugh.
“How many years did we have the luxury of taking it directly from the source?”
“Well, when you’re finished with your work, Ian,” we won’t ever have to think of that again. Just make sure that you don’t drink the children’s supply.”
“My God,” he said, curling up his nose, “I don’t know how they stomach that shit.”
“They don’t all the time,” Svenson said, “which is why we must work hard so we can be rid of them.”
Ian took another drink, checking to make sure it was unadulterated, and asked, “Would you kill them all?”
Svenson turned to him. The question had never come up before. “I hadn’t really thought of that. Sebastian would have to go. That’s a given. We can’t very well kill a senator’s stepson, can we?”
“It would bring too many eyes on us,” Ian said, offering Svenson another glass of blood. “Especially if Archer gets to the White House.”
“Indeed,” he said. “I suppose we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it, Ian. Best thing now is to deal with this problem” – he held up the computer printouts – “and then deal with the disposition of the children.”
“Two Centuries of work,” he said. “I have computers now, and even with them I'm no closer to an answer than I was when I began. Maybe there is no answer, Erick.”
“There is an answer, Ian. You will find it.” He glanced at his watch, and asked, “Where's Seth?”
“He's not in the hospital,” Ian said. “In fact, I haven’t seen him. He told me that he’d be in early.”
“He's always in early,” he said. “He must be sick.”
“I'll call him, if you want,” Ian said.
“Perhaps that would be wise,” he replied. “Maybe he just overslept. He has been working a lot recently. He needs his rest. After all, he’s only mortal,” he said with a laugh.
“We can’t all be perfect,” he said, picking up the phone.
“Check on him, but tell him to take some time to himself. I have a special class today. I want to finish up the lectures before midterms. I'll be at the university,” Svenson said, gathering up his things. “Call me if there's a problem.”
“Teaching on Saturday?”
“It does happen.”
“I would’ve hated to have a professor who made me come to class on Saturday.”
“My student’s love me,” Svenson said with a smile as he left.
Ian dialed the phone. The answering machine picked up moments later.
“Hello. This is Dr. Green,” the message ran. “Sorry I can't answer the phone. Please leave a message after the tone, and I'll call you right back.”
The machine beeped.
“Seth, this is Ian,” he said. “Do call me at the hospital as soon as you can. Hope you’re well.”

***
Svenson always liked teaching, as far back as he could remember. Even as a soldier, a legatus, his main job was to teach his troops, take care of the men. Whenever he could insinuate himself into a teaching situation, he leaped at the chance. It was the time he spent in the classroom that invigorated him and made immortality desirable. Even the drive to the campus was a joy, as making his way back to the Asylum was saddening to him.
As Svenson guided his Porsche down the small winding drive, he headed into the sun. shocked by the sudden stab of sunlight, he steered his car slightly off the road and his car hit a bump. Suddenly, his sunglasses jumped off his face. A dagger-like beam of sunlight blasted through his eyes.
Instantly, Svenson was thrown into a swirling mass of evil. Blown from side to side, as he fell deeper and deeper into the vortex of malevolence, finally Svenson fell to the ground, and found himself surrounded by a legion of demons. He had not been in this place since he became a vampire all those millennia ago. Though he had not been here in all those years, time had not dulled his memory of the place, or what it meant to him.
One of the faceless demons moved forward. Was it the same one, or another? Did they have a sense of oneness, or were they all connected? “Why have you abjured us, Quintus?”
He addressed him by the name Svenson had worn at birth, the one his father, holding him up to the Roman gods, gave him. It was a name he had not used for many lifetimes.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, though he knew why. “Why have you brought me here?”
“You have attacked us,” another said. “You have broken your word.”
“I have been your faithful servant,” he said, groveling on the ground. He hated playing the part of a sycophant to these creatures, but he knew their power, and the joy they took in being malicious.
“You have your subordinate,” a third demon spat, “also our servant, seek a way to break our covenant.”
“You misunderstand,” he said, equivocating. “We simply...”
“You prevaricate,” the demon said. He did not know whether it was the first the second the third, another. “Stop your lies. Stop what you are doing and reaffirm your oath to us.”
Svenson thought about what they were telling him. He knew their power. Knew of what they were capable.
“Quintus,” the first demon said, his voice harsh and grave-like, “you have only one choice. Beg our forgiveness and reaffirm your oath, or die as you would have died in that field on that day.”
In his heart, he did not have any intention of keeping his oath. And he was not sure that he could hide that from them, but he knew in his heart that he would press Ian even harder to find a way to free them from these wretched creatures. But he knew he could do nothing more than speak the words, or he would die, cease to exist, in moment. “I reaffirm my oath to you, and your minions. I swear it! On my life!”

***
After hours of lying in bed next to Kari, unable to sleep, Cole finally sat up next to her. Not sure what to make of his new existence, he rose from his bed and wondered the corridor of the Juvenile Ward. Bored with the surroundings, he exited through one of the many hidden doorways that led to the outside. He had not been in the sun in a couple of days. It could have been a week. He couldn’t be sure. Time seemed to have drifted away from him.
Cole looked back at the Asylum and wondered how the others were still asleep, why they couldn’t go in daylight, but he could. Why?
Off in the distance, he saw a single person walking toward the auxiliary parking lot, the place where they had departed for their little late-night sojourn. As fast as he could, he ran to the parking lot only to find Chrissy searching for her car.
“Where’d I park that fucking thing?” she said, a consternated look on her face.
“I don’t know.”
She moved closer to him and asked, “What the fuck did you do to me?”
“I couldn’t help myself,” he said. But he didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.
“Do you know what the fuck is going on?”
He had to let out a little nervous laugh. “I just came here last week,” he said. “I’m getting used to this.”
“Why are they all asleep?”
“I don’t know!” he exclaimed. “I don’t have a clue what’s going on here. That’s not true. I just don’t really believe what’s going on here now. And the fact that you and I can walk in the sun like this is making me even more questioning about whether or not we are what they said we are.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“I drank your blood last night, Chrissy,” he said, moving closer. “I had fangs. And I bit holes into your neck. Right where those marks are on your neck.”
Reflexively, she brought her fingers to the place where Cole bit her the previous night.
“Yeah,” he said, “it really happened.”
Slowly, she nodded.
“When you fell asleep last night …”
“I had the worst nightmare I’ve ever had in my life,” she replied, nearly in tears. “The pain, I don’t remember ever having pain like that before.”
“It’s your body dying,” he said. “That’s what they told me.”
“I’m dead?” she asked. “That’s what you’re telling me?”
“That’s what they told me, is what I’m telling you,” he said. “Look, I’m in the same thing you are. And I have all the same fucking questions you have.”
She glanced at her watch, and said, “I have to go.”
“Where?”
“Professor Svenson is having a special session today,” she said.
“Svenson?”
“Yeah.”
“Erick Svenson?”
“Yeah,” she said. “What about it?”

***
Shaken by his meeting in the netherworld, Svenson stood next to his car in the University parking lot. Feebly, he put his sun glasses back on and made his way toward the school.
Unseen by him, Chrissy steered her car into a parking spaces near his and got out. Like laser lights, her eyes bore into him.
Chrissy slipped into her seat next to Harper. The fang marks were clearly visible on her neck, but they now looked more like a hickey than bite marks.
“Rough night?” Harper asked, gazing at her war wounds.
“What?” she asked, huffily.
Sheepishly, he pointed to her neck.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, “rave party. Got a little X’ed out. I don’t even remember who it was.”
“Wish I was there,” he said.
Other students began to filter into the room, most of them looking as if they had also been to a party.
“Pig,” she said, just as Svenson breezed into the classroom, setting his things on the desk and taking his place.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said, arranging his books on the desk, “thank you for joining me in this special session. Today I will read to you from the diary of the oldest living vampire. Take your seats. No interruptions, please.”
He waited a moment for the commotion to settle as the students took their seats.
Dramatically, he opened the diary, and said, “I will translate the Latin text whilst reading.
“My name is Guis Quintus. My birth took place in the year eighty-nine, B.C., in Rome. I was born of a Patrician family of great wealth and station.” Svenson smiled as he read, a distant smile, as he remembered the first time he wrote the words on paper, and the first time he lived the events about which he wrote. “The spring, it was, when I took my first mortal breath. My education took place at the finest schools, with the most brilliant minds Rome had to offer. At adulthood, I became a Legatus of Rome. That was something of which I was most proud.
“I lead troops in battle,” he said. “And by the time I was in my thirtieth year, I rode into battle next to Guis Julius Caesar in his campaigns against the Gauls.”

***
Torrential rains pelt the field of battle near Placentia in northern Italy. Dead and dying soldiers littered the area. Guis Quintus lay in the mud. The shaft of an arrow had pierced his armor and protruded from an area just above his heart. The metal tip nicked the heart muscle with every beat, and every movement.
Some distance away, a large black and white stallion galloped towards the sounds of the battle that had passed him. Quintus crawled to a safe place away from the fighting. Under a large rock overhang, he sought safe refuge from battle. He struggled against excruciating the pain.
“Great, merciful Gods!” he cried out as he pulled on the shaft of the arrow. But the pain became too intense and he had to stop, slumping back against the rock wall of the outcropping.
Water began to fill the depression. Fear traced itself across his face as the water began to rise higher and higher.
“Help me!” he cried. “Don't let me die here! I want to live! I want...” Pain choked back the words. Then he whispered, “Let me live!”
Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder shook the skies. “I beg all the powers, both dark and light!” his strength began to ebb as his life poured out into the muddy earth beneath him. Feebly, he struggled to say, “Let me live.”
Blood poured from his mouth. Life began to leave him. With the last morsels of life, he tried to crawl out from under the rock, but could not find the strength.
Accidentally, fell forward on the arrow, driving it deep into his heart. With his last ounce of life, he let out a blood-curdling cry and fell dead.

***
Quintus fell into a vortex of swirling energy. Demons taunted him and dragged him towards a great, dark tower. At its apex, a larger, nebulous, black demon appeared before Quintus and forces him to lay prostrate on the ground.
“Guis Quintus,” the demon said, “why dost thou call upon us?”
“Who is it you are?” Quintus cried, trying to appear defiant and strong.
“Who we are is of no importance,” another demon said.
“What is it you want of us?” asked a third.
“Black demon, whomsoever you may be,” he said, not sure what to say, not sure what to do, “I want to live.”
No answer came from them.
“Can you grant me this?” he begged.
“That which you ask is within our power to grant,” another demon said, making him wonder how many there were, and which one was the leader, if there was a leader. “But what will you give to us in return?”
“Whatsoever you may desire of me, that is within my power,” he said, “I will do that for you.”
Many moments, more than he could count, passed with no answer from the wretched demons.
“What is your answer?” he asked.
More time passed. No answer came forth.
Before he could ask again, the demon, or demons, said, “Let it be, then, that you will be condemned for all eternity to walk amongst Mankind, yet be you separate from them.”
Quintus did not know what they meant.
“You must be our servant, a servant of the darkness,” the demons, said. “Mortal in the light; one of us in the night. You will feed from the blood of man. Do you accept our conditions?”
“I will live once more?” he asked.
“You will exist.”
“Nothing can kill me?”
“Only that which killed you now,” said the demons.
“Then, yes. I accept! Willingly!” not understanding at first what the demons meant.
***
The students sat transfixed by the narration as Svenson moved out among them.
“When I awoke, it was night, and I was still in the place under the rock,” Svenson said. “A strange sensation I felt in my mouth,” he said as he brought his fingers to his lips.
“My teeth were enlarged, and quite sharp,” he continued. “I thought I had dreamt the entire episode, but the insatiable, compelling desire to consume human blood proved me wrong.”
Svenson moved further into the middle of the classroom. He began to become and more melodramatic, as if he was talking about himself. “Now I am immortal, except that one way has been left to end my existence. I understand now what the demons meant. A wooden stake driven through my heart will kill me.” Svenson held up an arrow of the type used by the Gauls. The wood used must be the same ash which was in the arrow which caused my death. Only that can send me to Heaven or to Hell.”
Svenson stared at the faces of his students. Felt the drama in the air. He had so lost himself in his story that he had not seen them during the narration.
“That's pretty intense, Doc,” Emily said.
“That can't be real,” Harper said. “You made that up.”
Though she tried to hide them, Svenson noticed that there were two, almost healed, puncture wounds in Chrissy's neck.
“Sounds like it's real to me,” she said, smugly.
Svenson looked hard at her and he grew concerned, though he did his best to conceal his emotions.
“Real exciting life you've led, Doc,” she said with a smirk.
“Yes, it is,” he replied, somewhat shaken. “We will continue the story after midterms.”
Chrissy smiled slightly as he left.





Chapter 16
Police cars surrounded the parking area outside Doctor Green’s house. An unmarked car pulled up behind one of the black and whites and two men in suits got out. One of them checked his notes and they headed for Green’s apartment.
The detectives, Roger Barns and Breckin Meyers, entered the room as uniformed officers stood by and the crime lab did its work.
“Detective Barns. Detective Meyers,” the coroner, Kelly Garner said, kneeling next to Green’s body. “Welcome to my nightmare.”
At the center of the room, lying flat on the floor, Doctor Green's body lay. In the center of his chest was a neat round puncture wound in his chest, no more than five centimeters in diameter.
“What can you tell me, Doctor Garner?” Barns asked.
“Fifty-five year old white male,” she began, “died from a puncture wound to the heart. He exsanguinated. But there’s no blood.”
“He what?” Meyers said.
“Bled to death, Detective Meyers.
“Where’s the blood?” he asked, looking around the room.
“Was he killed somewhere else, Kelly?” Barns asked.
“No,” she said. “Don’t think so. No, Roger, he died here. But someone pumped or sucked his blood out.”
“Lovely,” just what I need to make this weekend perfect.”
“How’d we find out about this, Doctor?” Meyers asked.
“Nine-One-One call,” she said. “That’s what the uniforms said.
The phone rang, startling the cops.
After a few rings, the answering machine picked up. “Hello. This is Doctor Green,” the machine began. “Sorry I can't answer the phone. Please leave a message after the tone, and I'll call you right back.”
“Hello, Seth...” Ian’s voice began.
Instantly, Barns picked up the receiver, “This is Detective Barns, L.A.P.D. Who's this?”
“I'm Doctor Ian Firth,” he said. “Is this Doctor Green’s number?”
“Yes, it is,” he replied. “How do you know Doctor Green?”
“I work with Doctor Green,” Ian said. “I’m a colleague.”
“Doctor, I hate to tell you this.”

***
Cole rose from his bed to get a glass of water. It puzzled him that he could still ingest mortal things. Nothing in the folklore said anything about being able to eat mortal foods, except maybe the Copolla version of Dracula. But maybe Cole didn’t remember the film accurately. He thought he remembered him eating mortal food. Maybe not.
He looked back to Kari. She slept so soundly. Slowly, he slipped back into bed next to her. After a moment, not able to sleep, he rose from the bed and walked out of the room.

***
Svenson blasted the door open, shocking Ian from his chair. “Where is that Son-of-a-bitch?”
“Don't you ever fucking knock?” he asked.
“Where is he, Ian?” he asked, the calm on his face covering the anger he worked to suppress.
“Where do you think he is?” he said, impertinently.
“When the sun sets, bring him to me.”
“Sure,” he said. “Whatever you say.”
Softly, nearly imperceptibly, Piano music wafted through the air.
“What's that?”
“What's what?”
“Listen,” he said. “From where is that music coming?”

***
Slipping into the door almost silently, Svenson found Cole playing the piano. Cole stopped playing when he saw that Svenson was there. “Dr. Svenson?”
“Please continue, Cole” he said, moving forward and taking a seat next to the piano.
Svenson raised a questioning eyebrow as Cole resumed.
“Your hands seem to move with so little effort,” Svenson said. “It’s almost as if old Ludwig was guiding you. I haven't heard Beethoven played that well in a very long time.
“I wish I could've met him,” Cole said. “A lot of people think it’s a cliché to like Beethoven. Or Mozart. I like Beethoven more. He worked harder for his music than Mozart did. It was easy for Mozart. Like he was just channeling the music from some magical place. Beethoven, he fought for every note. Every passage.”
“You know him well,” Svenson said with a smile.
“I would have liked to.”
“He was quite the eccentric, I assure you,” he said with an enigmatic smile. “Stayed up late into the night. Took long walks. Had a notebook in his pocket. He would write down melodies. Sometimes a bird would fly overhead, singing all the way. It would inspire a melody. He’d write it down.”
“I can't sleep,” Cole said.
“Is that so?”
“Everyone else is asleep,” Cole continued. “I'm not. You're not. I know you’re one of us. Why?”
“Ah, I see that the little ones have told you much,” Svenson said, upset that Cole had been brought over, and that they told him so much. “I am very old, Cole,” he said, trying to find the right words. “But you, my young friend, are another story. You are an enigma.”
“I don't like the sound of that.”
“There are worse things to be.”
“You met him? “
“Who?”
“Beethoven,” he said. “You met him?”
“Yes, yes I did,” he said.
“Why didn’t you turn him?”
“Turn him?”
“Into one of us?” he said, pointing to his teeth.
“Ah, yes, I thought about that, thought turning him,” Svenson said. “But he was too eccentric. He would have gone truly mad.” After a moment, Svenson said, “Cole, I don't think it would be wise for you to reveal your freedom to the others.”
“Freedom?”
“From the night,” he said. “They might become envious. I think, in fact, that you should go back to your room, to your bed, so no one becomes suspicious.”
“What about Chrissy?”
“Chrissy?” he asked. “I know no Chrissy in the ward.”
“We sort of picked her up at the Rave Party.”
“Chrissy who?”
“Wilson,” he said. “She said she was your student.”
“Is that so?”
Cole nodded.
“Do you know where she is?”
“No,” he said, slowly shaking his head from side to side.
“I'd love to hear you play another time,” Svenson said as he headed for the door. “You’re brilliant. Go to back to your room.”
On his way back to his room, Cole passed by Doobie's room. Sitting alone, Doobie traced out lines of a dark powdery substance on a mirror.
“Want a line, Dude?” Doobie asked, a drug-hazed smile on his face.
“I’m good, thanks,” Cole said. “Gotta go to bed.”
“Wish I could,” Doobie replied with a giggle.
Cole wanted to ask him about his insomnia, but decided against it.

***
Frustration written all over his face, Svenson entered his office and went behind his desk, Ian Firth on his heels. “Ian,” he said, “I know that things have become a bit frenetic in the past few days, however, I believe that it is prudent that get Mr. Archer medicated as soon as we can. That is now.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, Ian,” Svenson said, becoming more emphatic, “right now. We can’t have him running around telling the others what he knows to be true. Now get him the medicated blood from the Adult Ward and make sure he drinks it.”
“This is out of control, Erick,” Ian said. “We have to do something now.”
“Yes, we do,” he said, “but we must act cautiously. We don’t want to do anything that jeopardizes the life of Cole Archer.”
Svenson’s secretary entered the office without knocking, and said, “Dr. Svenson, there's a call for you on line two.”
“Who is it, Sheila?”
The look on her face told him all he needed to know. “Ian, could you give me a moment alone. I don’t think this call is going to be easy. The Senator is nearing the end of the race, and…”
“I’ll be in the lab if you need me,” he said as he turned and left the office.

***
Senator Archer’s office, high up in a Beverly Hills high rise office building, overlooked Los Angeles County. Archer loosened his tie and took a drink from his Martini glass.
He picked up a copy of the Los Angeles Times. The headline reads: Incumbent senator a shoo-in. Landslide victory predicted. Other headlines talk about the impending Halloween celebration. The phone rang. “Yes, Millie,” he said, pressing the button on the intercom. Archer's practiced smile appeared instantly as he picked up the phone. “Dr. Svenson,” he said, “how are you?”
“Hello, Senator. What can I do for you today?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve read the papers, seen the news,” he said, “and things are going to be, let’s say, difficult. I just wanted to inquire about Cole. How's he doing?”
“Well, Senator,” he said, hedging, “with all due respect, he’s only just beginning his treatment and getting used to his new surroundings. It’s far too soon to be discussing his status.”
“Of course. I understand,” he said. “It’s just that, well, Doctor Svenson, in about a week, we – my wife and I – had planned to see Cole soon. I mean, when I win the election next month, well, it’s going to be a bit frenetic. You understand?”
“I understand.”
“When would it...”
“Senator, I understand your quandary,” he said, “but it is not advisable for you to come out until we've had time to work with Cole for a while. You understand, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do, but…”
“We have to work with Cole,” he continued, “try to begin to understand what’s going on inside his head. That takes time. Therapy.”
“But when can we…”
“Senator, now, I have some very important issues with which to deal,” he said, brusquely. “We'll have to discuss this at another time, Senator,” he said. “Good luck. You’ll have my vote.”
Curtly, he hung up the phone, rubbing his hands hard across his face. “Goddamn politicians!”






Chapter 17
Kari woke instantly. She looked at Cole, who appeared to be asleep. She shook him. “Wake up,” she said. “Sun's up. It's time to go out.”
“Where?” he said.
“Just out,” she replied, getting her clothes together. “Let’s go.”
Moments later, out in the corridor, Cole and Kari see Tony and Doobie standing outside of their rooms. Kari pulled Cole along, went to him and said, “Where’s Sebastian?”
“M.I.A.,” Doobie replied. “We ain't seen him nowhere.”
Tony said, “He must be in his room still, I guess.”
“He’s usually the first one out,” she said, more to herself than to them. “This is odd.”
“We're going to look for him,” Tony said.
Tony and Doobie headed off. Cole and Kari look at each other for a moment. Without a word, Cole and Kari started to take off, but Flapper and Sarah T. came up to them, and stopped them.
“Hey, Cole,” Flapper said, “what’s up?
“Nothing, Flapper,” he said. “What’s up with you?”
“Your sister called a little while ago,” she said. “I saw the message in the Crabface’s trashcan.”
“Tina called?” he asked. “Why didn't you get me?”
“That’s what we’re doing now,” Sarah T said. “Note said she wants you to call her.”
“She said she needs to see you now,” Flapper said, “like right now.”
“Shit,” he said, exasperated. “I need to get to a phone.”
“You can call her on the way, Cole,” Kari said, tugging on his sleeve. “I have a cell.”
“Kari, what’s wrong?” he asked, following her.
“It’s just a feeling,” she replied. “I just don’t want to be here. Let’s just go.”

***

Ian traveled down the corridor to the Juvenile Ward with two burley orderlies.
“First, we get Cole,” he said, “get the drugged blood into him so he’ll be under control. Then we go after Sebastian.”
One of the orderlies stopped dead in his tracks and said, “Doctor, are you crazy? We’re mortal. He can…”
“I’m not,” he replied. “I’ll handle him with your help. Besides, I slipped something to him during the day when he was asleep. It should keep him drugged for a little longer until we can get him out of the ward.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Doc,” the second orderly said. “Sebastian’s…”
“Sebastian will be under control,” he said, “if you just leave the worry to me.”
“Does Doctor Svenson know about this?”
Ian turned in place, came to a dead halt and said, “What Sebastian can do to you in by no means as bad as what I can. Now close your mouths and come with me.”

***

Still asleep, Sebastian held the photograph of Rose in his arms still. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, but it was obvious that he was groggy. As Sebastian rose from his bed, his eyes filled with anger.
Suddenly, Sebastian heard Ian admonishing the orderlies. With lightening speed, he ducked into a trap door in the wall.
Ian and orderlies blitzkrieg into the room and are shocked to find Sebastian gone. A look of rage and fear fills Ian's face. “Damn him,” he said under his breath. “Damn him to hell.”

***
Kari, with Cole as passenger, recklessly drove the convertible sports car down Santa Monica Boulevard. Rock `N Roll music blared from the CD player.
Holding a cell phone to his ear, Cole waited for an answer.
“What’s going on?” Kari asked.
“Shit,” he said. “She's not answering.”
“What about her cell?”
“She forwards her home number to it,” he said. “She'd pick up.”
As they drove down the road, Tina and Morgan passed them in Tina’s car. Neither of them saw the other.
Kari motioned over to a couple of kids, a girl and a guy, hitch hiking up ahead of them. “We need them,” she said.
“Why?”
“We need to feed, Cole,” she said with a little more emphasis than needed.
Kari pulled over to the side of the road. The hitchhikers came up to the car and one of them, Josh, said, “Thanks for stoppin’.”
“Where ya heading?”
“Coast,” Josh said.
“Malibu,” Rachael said.
“Get in,” Kari said, motioning for them to get in. “You’re in luck.” and the two teenagers hop in the back seat. Kari instantly blasted into the street, cutting off other cars.
“I’m Rachael,” Rachael shouted over the rush of wind. “This is my boyfriend, Josh.”
“I’m Kari,” she said, “and this is Cole. We like to go to the beach at night. Very romantic.”
“We’re just looking to score some Ecstasy,” Rachael said.

***
“I don’t fucking remember where it is, Morgan!” Tina blasted, slamming her hand against the dashboard. I was only there one time and I didn’t drive. Fuck! I sat in the back of the car and spent most of the time talking to Cole.”
“Okay, sorry to suggest,” Morgan said, holding up her cell phone, “but maybe we could call four-one-one? They might just have a listing.” For a moment, Morgan dangled the phone near her face.
“Fine, call,” Tina said.
With glee in her face, Morgan dialed. “I need the number for Holly Grove Memorial Hospital please.” She waited for a moment. “I don’t know. It’s near Los Angeles, I think.” She turned to Tina and said, “You know the town?”
“I don’t know.”
“Only one?” she said into the phone. “Okay.” She turned to Tina and said, “They’re dialing. Oh, yes, I’m on the One Oh One. I need directions.” She wrote the directions, and handed them to Tina. “There, silly. Directions. We’re no longer just driving around.”
Tina took the paper and glanced at it. “We’re going in the right direction.”
“That’s a first,” she replied. “Hey, I meant to ask, now that we’re not lost in the Twilight Zone, how the hell did you shake the S.S. again?”
“I flashed that guy, Roger, my ass,” she said with a giggle. “These government guys are supposed to be immune, but he almost swallowed his tongue.”
Morgan burst out laughing.
“I put that sex doll in my bed, covered it up,” she said, “and snuck out the window. They won’t even know I’m gone.”
“You know,” Morgan said, “maybe we can steal Cole away from prison.”
“It’s not prison, Morgan,” Tina snipped.
“Hey, he can’t leave,” she said, “can’t come home. It’s a prison.”
“How are we even going to see him?”
“Look, you said you saw him at the rave, right?”
“Come on, Morgan,” she said, “there’s no way was him. How could he get all the way to the rave from the nut house? It’s impossible.”
“You want to turn back?”
Tina snapped her eyes at her. “No. No way. We’re on our way. We’re going.”
Morgan reached into Tina’s bag to get a bottle of vodka and orange. “I think it’s time for a bit of liquid refreshment,” she said. “Hey, what’s this?” she asked as she pulled a pamphlet from Tina’s bag. It was a brochure of Holly Grove.
“How the fuck did that get there?” Tina asked.
“Beats the fuck out of me,” Morgan said. “Not my bag.”
Quickly, Tina pulled over to take a look at the thing. “Shit, this has a map of the grounds. Valuable Intel if I ever saw it,” she said with glee.

***
Stealthily, Sebastian crawled out of a hidden trap door in the wall of Svenson’s library. Like Howard Carter in 1922 finding Tutankhamen’s tomb, Sebastian felt as if he found royal treasure. Stars in his eyes, he headed to the shelves and examined the titles. One volume interests him especially. The Worlds Oldest Vampire: A Biography. It is a copy, in English, of the original that Svenson had taken to his class.
Sebastian took the book from the shelf to one of the tables, holding it reverently, as if it were a holy relic. Inside, subconsciously, he was still in awe of Doctor Svenson, but the anger that had been building over the last three or so decades clouded even that. To Sebastian, this book, one he had never seen up close, let alone held in his hands, was a bible, the bible of vampirism. It told of the beginnings of his kind. This tome, though written by someone he had never trusted in all the years he had known him, was sacred and he was sure held information that he would need when he eliminate the older vampire. In his heart, he knew that it contained more secrets, things he could use to cement his control over the others, and do away with any opposition.
But now, he had to read and read quickly. He could not take the manuscript with him, so he had to be swift. There could be no time afforded to luxuriate. Slowly, he opened the book and gazed upon its pages. Now, he had him. Now he would win.
“I have you now, Doctor Svenson,” he said, “or whatever your name is.”

***
Expertly, Kari wheeled the car into the parking lot at the north side of Santa Monica Pier, screeching to a halt just short of the strand.
“That was next level driving!” Josh hitcher exclaimed, slapping his hand against the back of the seat.
“You drive like you’re going to live forever,” Rachael said, still laughing from the rush.
“Like nothing can touch you!” she said.
“You blew past that cop like it didn’t matter!”
“Does it?”
Cole sat wordlessly in the passenger’s seat, and then slowly got out of the car. The hunger for blood had begun to fill him. And he looked at the two kids more like prey than people. His mind was bouncing with the thoughts that it was wrong to do this, but he could not stop the hunger. It was worse than any hunger he had ever endured as a mortal.
“My thoughts exactly,” Rachael said.
“You like excitement?” Kari asked, as she got out of the car.
“Doesn’t everybody?” Josh asked.
Kari slowly took Josh into her arms, as Cole did the same to Rachael.
“Hey,” Rachael exclaimed. “He’s my fucking boyfriend.”
Kari just glared at her, and she stopped her verbal assault. Cole could feel an energy coming from her. It was something invisible but palpable. Even he feared her for a moment. “When we’re done, you’ll still be together.”
Cole found Rachael very attractive, making it all the more difficult to take her, as he gazed into her eyes.
“Don’t hurt me,” she said, “please.”
“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered as he pushed her hair aside, exposing her neck. This was more cold-blooded than it was with Chrissy the last night. There were no drugs – not yet, anyway. There was just this scared little girl. She was his age. But she seemed much younger now that he had her in his arms. But slowly, as the blood lust began to fill him, she looked less than a human to him, or he was less human inside, and he did not feel the reticence inside him.
Cole began to kiss her. Gently, he kissed her, and she gave into his tender kisses as if she wanted him. His seduction was supernatural, but he did not realize or understand it.
Under her skin, her blood pulsed through her veins. He could hear it. Smell it. Almost taste it. As if by instinct, his lips traced a line down her jaw to her neck and he began to kiss her there. But that lasted only a few brief moments, as the lust grew beyond his control. He bared his fangs and sliced them gently, but at the same time forcefully, into her neck.
The sweet, salty taste of the blood began to gush into his mouth and he swallowed hungrily, taking as much as she could give to him. Slowly, she began to swoon from the sudden loss of blood.
“Stop!” Kari shouted from the other side of the car, as she dumped Josh’s limp body into the back seat of the car. “What did I tell you?”
“I was about to,” Cole replied, wiping the blood from his chin with his hand, holding the wounds in her neck closed with the other. “She’s not dead.”
“Good,” she replied. “I’m sorry I shouted at you.”
“It’s okay.”
She came around to his side of the car as Cole gently laid Rachael next to Josh.
“How was it?”
“It was okay,” he replied. “I don’t feel bad.”
“Of course you don’t,” she replied kissing him. “See, it gets easier the more you do it. Kind of like sex that way.”
“Sex can’t kill you,” he said.
“Oh, really?” she said, her eyebrows raised. “Read the paper much?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Always,” she said, commandingly, but with a hint of humor. “I need some French fries,” she said as she pulled him toward Santa Monica Pier.
***
Cole and Kari shared a bag of French fries as they headed toward the end of the pier.
As they walked away from the burger shop on the pier, three beggars approach with their hands out. They were young, street kids, playing the game. “Yo, dude, like my hog won’t start,” one of them said, “and I need some money for the bus. Can you spare some change?”
“Sure,” Cole said after a moment. He reached into his pockets and pulled out some coins. He dropped them into the beggar’s hand. “Don’t spend it all in one place.
“Thanks, Dude,” he said as he pocketed the change and moved off with his friends.
“You are such a pushover,” Kari said as she popped a fry in her mouth.
“Well, probably didn’t do much to really help them in the long run,” he said, “but I never had to worry about where my food was coming from.”
She grabbed her jaw, laughing, as she said, “Okay, I deserved that one.”
“You grow up in a mansion,” he said, “and tell me how you feel.”
“Point taken,” she said. “I never had the problem of being too rich. Although prudent investments over the past fifty years, and I’m pretty well set financially.”
“Really?”
“Took Internet courses in investing,” she said. “I’m good.”
“Maybe I’ll let you handle my trust fund,” he said.
“Oh, my God,” she said with a laugh.
Munching their fries, they headed on down to the end of the pier.
“The ocean's so beautiful at night,” she said. “So romantic. I tried to get Sebastian to bring us here more often. Says it has too many bad memories.”
“With his attitude, I can't imagine why.”
“We all have bad memories,” she said. “I actually had my first kiss here.”
“Bad memory?” he asked.
“Not really,” she said, remembering. “It was okay. He wasn’t very good at it. But I don’t know how good I was then either. I was only thirteen.”
“How old was he?”
“He was an older man,” she said, teasingly. “Fourteen.”
“How old is he now?”
“Old enough,” she said with a giggle. “Actually, sadly, Jerry Portman died three years ago.”
“Old age?”
“Car accident, thank you,” she said. “God, you’re going to make me feel old.”
They stopped in front of a long, glass-encased bulletin board full of photographs of the history of the Pier. Mindlessly, they scan the pictures, but they don't really look that hard at them.
“I love the pictures here,” she said, as she ran her finger over the Plexiglas cover, as Cole retrieved another French Fry from the container. They miss a group of old pictures of Sebastian standing with Rose when they were alive.
“We can eat food?” he asked, quizzically.
“That’s kind of weird,” she said. “Only the blood will nourish you. You have to have it. If you don’t, all your strength will begin to fade. You can feel that happening the longer you go without it. And if you don’t feed for a long time, the need will craze you out.”
“But what about food?”
“Nothing effects you but the blood. It's the source of the power.” She took another fry from the container, popped it into her mouth, and said, “I just haven't lost the taste for Mortal food.”
“What about Doobie?”
“What about him?”
“I saw him smoke a whole joint,” he said. “And today I saw him do a line of coke.”
“That wasn't dope and that wasn't coke.”
Cole looked at her questioningly.
“Dried blood,” she said.
Cole seemed shocked slightly.
“He was a junkie when he was alive,” she said. “Never broke the habit.”
“Shit. Wait,” he said. “If you follow that logic, I'll be a pyromaniac the rest of eternity?”
Kari laughed at him as she motioned him toward the end of the pier.
“Do you ever come here?” she asked as they walked toward the end of the pier.
“I used to,” he said, “but it’s been a bit difficult to get out with the Secret Service all over my ass all the time.”
Slowly, the descended the steps to the lower observation deck at the end of the pier, and leaned over the rail.
“How’d you torch your school with them around?”
“They let up on me sometimes in school,” he replied. “I told them I was going to the lavatory, and they didn’t see me come out. Stupid, really. You’d think they would have heard of my reputation. I’m a troubled teen. Haven’t you read the papers?” he said with a sardonic smile.
“I don’t read the papers much anymore,” she said. “It’s hard enough to get time to read a book. Sebastian sort of relies on me to control the troops for him. It’s exhausting. I should get a pay check for the work I do there.”
“Well, if it’s all the same to you,” he said, leaning against the rail, “I think that Sebastian is a narcissistic, megalomaniacal dwarf with a Napoleonic complex.”
Shock filled her eyes, and Cole thought that he had insulted her in his attempt to insult Sebastian. “What?”
“Damn good vocabulary,” she said, smiling.
“What? You think because I come from a privileged background I don’t have a brain?”
“Well, I never met too many people from the Hills that knew too much,” she said, condescendingly.
“This Hills?”
“Beverly Hills,” she said. “I’m originally from Canoga Park.”
“A Valley Girl?”
“Don’t even think of going there,” she said, blushing.
“Okay, okay,” he said with a laugh as he lit a cigarette. She gazed at him while he inhaled. “Is this going to kill me?”
“Sorry,” she said. “You can smoke all you want. Smoke five packs a day. Ten. Doesn’t matter. Nothing but the sun can kill you.”
At that moment, he wanted to tell her that he had been out in the sun, that he had seen Chrissy out in the sun, but she quickly moved onto the next topic.
“So, what was your dad like?” she asked. “Your real dad.”
“Ah, the real dad. The memory,” he said. “My real father was Clayton W. Staves. He was an artist.”
“What kind?”
“Painter,” he said. “Never had a lesson, but he could duplicate any of the masters from all the centuries. Any style. It was like they were standing over his shoulder telling him what to do.”
“You miss him?” she asked, almost rhetorically.
“I never met him. He died when I was a year old,” he said, almost devoid of emotion, but full of it at the same time.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” he said. “You didn’t kill him.” Cole looked at her with a sideward glance and asked, “Did you?”
“No!” she said, laughing. “God. What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“What about your mom?” she asked. “I mean, how’d they meet?”
“My mom came to an exhibit of my dad's stuff,” he said. “She was a business major at the university. Very prim and proper.”
“They fell in love and got married?”
“He wasn't into it,” Cole said. “Wasn't hip to get married. But she was insistent. She was pregnant. My dad was sort of hippie. Woodstock.”
“What happened to him?” she asked. “How’d he die?
“Heart attack. He was only thirty-six.”
Kari stroked his face, compassionately.
“My mom met the Senator a year later,” he continued. “He was a Congressman then.”
“Big shot,” she said, contemptuously.
“He thinks so,” Cole replied. “Don't get me wrong, being a senator's stepson has its advantages. But he's not my dad.”
Kari cuddled up next to him.
“Then they had my sister, Tina, almost right away.” He pulled out a picture of her and showed it to Kari.
As soon as she sees her image, a look of remembrance covered her face. But quickly, she controlled herself and said, “She's really pretty, Cole.”
“She's my best friend,” he said. “My only friend.”
“That’s not exactly true, Cole.” she said as she kissed him gently on the lips. She smiled awkwardly, and then turned back to look at the mountains. For several moments, she looked at the mountains and he continued out to sea. Slowly, as if by some unseen force, they moved together. Kari had her elbows hanging over the rail, and she began to rub his right arm with her fingers. She looked deep into his eyes, squinted as if she could not find a way to voice what she was feeling. She sighed in a puff as if trying stem the tears of happiness she felt inside of her. “Cole?” she whispered.
“What?”
Unhurriedly, her lips began to drift toward his. They had kissed before, but this was different. Something magical was happening between them. This was tender, loving, and affectionate. Fingertips touched gently on their faces. Their bodies barely touched. There was no need.
Kari wanted to cry out that she was in love with him, but she had never said that to anyone in the way she wanted to say it to him, not even when she was alive. Even the fact that many decades separated them, she felt comfortable in his arms.
With mortals walking about in the morning night, they made love at the end of the pier. It amazed Cole that he felt mortal with her. That it was as if he was still mortal and she was still mortal and they were just making love like two teenagers. But then the illusion was broken when Kari plunged her fangs deep into his neck, drawing blood from him as if he were mortal.
Instinctually, he reciprocated, pulling blood from the vein in her neck. Blood flowed between them and soon, they began to laugh like children. “Oh, my God, Cole,” she said, breathlessly, wiping the blood from her lips and her neck, “that was the most amazing feeling.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he said, not sure what to say.
An electronic beep broke the romantic moment as the alarm on Kari’s watch went off. “We better get going,” she said. “We might get caught in traffic on the way back.”
“What's the rush?”
“The sun?” she said, pointing toward the west.
“Kari, I think there's something strange going on,” he said, wanting just to blurt out what he knew to be true.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s about the sun thing,” Cole said.
“Excuse me,” she said, growing more and more annoyed by the moment, “no offence intended, but you could you either say what you have to say, or do it in the car? I’m not too jazzed about getting incinerated, if you don’t mind.” She dragged him up the steps. “You don’t understand, Cole. The sun will burn you to death. It’s the only way you can be killed.”
“Have you ever seen anyone die that way?”
“Are you crazy?”
“Have you ever seen any one die from the sun?”
“Rose did!” she exclaimed.
“Rose, who?” he asked as they neared the entrance to the Pier.
“Sebastian’s girlfriend,” she said.
“When the fuck did this happen?”
“I don’t know, exactly,” she said as they reached the car. Kari rapidly pulled the top up on the convertible. “I wasn’t there then. But what I heard was that she went out for a walk and got lost. The sun came up and...” She opened the door, motioned for him to do the same.
“But you never saw it with your own two eyes, huh?”
“No,” she said. “Get in the car.”

***
Blasting down the freeway on their way back to the Asylum, Kari kept an eye on the time as Cole continued his diatribe.
“If you didn’t see it with your own eyes,” he said, “then how do you know it’s true?”
“Jesus, Cole,” she said, exasperated, “everyone knows that the sun kills vampires. Where have you been?”
“Obviously not on the parapsychological freeway,” he said. “Listen , Kari, I just need you to listen to me.”
“I’m listening, Cole,” she said, somewhat sarcastically. “Just start making sense. Please.”
“Kari,” he said, “I think this is all a lie.”
“What is a lie?”
“Kari, I’ve been out in the sun during the day.”
“Are you high?”
“Chrissy was too,” he said. “So was Svenson.”
“That is in impossible,” she said. “I’ve felt the effects of the sun. I know what it is. I cannot stay awake. I go to sleep. I can’t stop it.”
“Kari, I haven’t slept since I got to the Asylum,” he said. “And I’ve been out in the sun.”

***
Sebastian read voraciously, ripping the volume to pieces with his eyes. He flips through the pages at lightening speed. Suddenly he stopped reading and flashed a knowing smile. His eyes filled with fire. “Ash?” He smiled broadly, his eyes filled with anger and joy at the same time. “Thank you, Chrissy,” he said, closing the book and taking it to the shelf where he found it, and retrieving another. Heedless of the time, he began to read again. As he read about half the book, page after page flipping by, his face contorted in pain and anger. A nauseated look filled his eyes.
Anger filled him and he took hold of the book as if to tear it to pieces, but his rage stopped him. He yelled a silent, agonizing yell. Quickly he regained his control and began to read further. The emotion drains from his face, replaced by determination. Tears filled his eyes, and all he could say was, “Rose.”

***
“Where are you going, Rose?” Sebastian said as he saw her head for the door that led outside to the grounds. She smiled weakly and turned to him as a few of the new residents passed by them.
In the time since the ward became habitable, it had filled up rapidly.
“I was just going for a walk,” she said, as she stepped outside into the cool night air, winter air that had just a bit of a bite to it. Even as vampires, they still felt the chill of cold; it just did not bother them.
“Want some company?” he said as he stepped outside after her.
“Sure,” she said, her voice trembling.
Sebastian knew it was not the cold that made her tremble. Something else caused it. He just did not know what.
Hand in hand, they walked through the darkness. Not word passed between them for several uneasy moments. Sebastian turned back to take a look at the hospital. “Pretty impressive, isn’t it?” he asked.
“What?”
“The hospital,” he said with a giggle. “I mean, not too long ago, this was just empty ground. And now…”
“Pretty impressive,” she said, vacantly.
The hospital had risen rapidly over the year and a half they had lived there. First, the adult ward sprang up first, and soon filled to the brim. The juvenile ward had been finished only a few months before.
Around them, the juvenile ward was clean, new, and dark, darker than the adult ward. Rose and Sebastian were the only ones living there. Svenson and Firth had tapped an ever-present supply of blood from the adults to feed his children.
“We’ve known each other for quite a while now,” Sebastian said, “but it doesn’t even take that to know that something’s on your mind, Rose.”
“I’m sorry, Sebastian,” she said, mournfully.
“Sorry for what?”
“You had a wonderful life ahead of you,” she said, “and I took it away from you.”
“Rose,” he said, stopping her, taking her into his arms, “you are my life.” Swiftly, he kissed her, kissed her passionately. “Rose, we’d be together as husband and wife – and we can still do that – but the most important thing is that we’re together.”
“But Sebastian,” she said, “your career.”
“The hell with my career,” he said. “I can always work. Doctor Svenson said that I can…”
“Do you really trust him?”
“Of course, I do, Rose,” he said, his brow turned into a suspicious frown. “What are you saying?”
“Nothing,” she said, turning away from him. “It’s nothing.”
Out of the shadows, Doctor Firth stepped. “I hope I’m not intruding,” he said.
“Of course not, Doctor,” Sebastian said. “Doctor Svenson wishes to see you, Rose,” Firth said.
“Where does Doctor Svenson want to meet me?”
“He said he’d be out here in a few moments, Rose,” Doctor Firth said. “And Sebastian, if you don’t mind, I have some tests with which I’d like you help. Would you mind?”
“Of course not, Doctor,” Sebastian said. Sebastian kissed Rose on the cheek and said, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Sebastian.”
Sebastian walked off toward the juvenile ward as Rose waited for Svenson. Magically, from behind her, he appeared. “What do you want?”
“Is it true?” she asked.
“Is what true?”
You're using us?
Svenson moved off and turned his back to Rose. He pulled a dart-like piece of wood from his pocket and began to play with it.
“Erick, talk to me,” she said. “Please don't tell me you're lying to me. To us.”
“Why would I lie to you?” he said, a troubled look in his eyes.
Rose moved closer and placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
“Erick?” she said, “Can we go in daylight?
“I'm sorry, Rose,” he said.
“Sorry for what?”
Swiftly, Svenson pivoted and thrusted the dart into Rose's chest. Grabbing at the dart, Rose writhed in pain as Svenson pushed the dart deeper into her chest. Rose stared deep into his eyes as she fell to the ground. Pleading eyes searched his face for a reason.
“I can’t let you ruin my work, Rose,” he said. “It’s far too important to me.”
Svenson pulled the dart from her chest then looked around to see if anyone had seen them. As soon as Svenson cleared the area, two burly orderlies swooped in and took off with the body.

***

Somber lights greeted Svenson as he entered the lab. Sitting at his microscope, Doctor Firth seemed intent on his work. Svenson took a vile of blood and downed it, placing the empty in a sink.
“Did you?”
Svenson said nothing.
Firth just closed his eyes. “I don’t think it was necessary, Erick.”
“Don’t you?” he asked. “Any security leak could be potentially harmful, Ian.”
“You could have talked to her.”
“I could see where the conversation was going,” he said, “and I didn’t like the direction.”
“Would you kill us all?”
“Ian,” he said, “I’m shocked at you. How long have we been friends? I wouldn’t consider such a thing. For you. You’re far too valuable a friend to me.”
“I would have died had you not come along when you did,” Ian said, “so every moment I have now, I owe to you. Only you know how to kill us.”
“You have free access to my library, Ian,” he said. “You know the truth is in there. You know what to do. You know my limitations. Our limitations.” Svenson moved closer to where Firth sat before his microscope. “In the time since I became what we are,” he said, “I have had many beside me.”
“Where are they?” he asked, innocently.
“Scattered to the winds.”
What a cryptic way to say that, Ian thought to himself. But then again, what could he do if Svenson decided to go against him? He could read the books in his library. Maybe there he would discover the secret. But then, before he could think anything further, Svenson spoke.
“There are only three ways for us to die,” he said, holding up the small dart made of ash would, “having one of these plunged into our hearts, lack of blood for a time longer than I’ve ever been tempted to explore, or for the demons you met at your conversion to take us. I only ever met them once, but I know their power. If they want us, any of us, to die, we would in that moment cease to exist.”
“We’ve been together for ages,” Ian said. “Why do you tell me this now?”
“You seemed to need to know now.”
I do, he thought. “But shouldn’t we tell the others?”
“You think they should know?”
“Don’t they have the right?”
“We’ve been talking for some time about trying to find a scientific way to free us from the need for human blood,” he said, “whilst preserving our preternatural powers. We need to have sources of vampiric blood to do that. We cannot serve as the only hosts. But we also cannot let them know all there is to know.
“This drug you’ve invented,” he continued, “it is truly amazing. How you did it I do not pretend to comprehend. But to be able to get them to fall asleep when the sun rises and wake when it sets, well it’s nothing short of extraordinary. But Ian, you must put all your efforts now into freeing us from blood.”
“I’m not sure it can be done, Erick,” he said. “And what will happen to the new children if I’m able?”
“Nothing,” he said. “They’ll go free. They could do no harm then.” He gazed at him more gravely and said, “But until that time, they must be kept in the dark, so to speak.
“Ian, are you prepared to go through with this?” he asked. “I will not harm you, but I have to know you’re loyal to the project.”
Ian looked around the lab. “I have a condition,” he said after giving the matter much thought.
“And that would be?”
“No more killing of our own,” he said, as Svenson’s eyebrow raised. “without my consent.”
“Why is that?”
“I don’t mind killing humans,” he said, “but these are our children. Some of them I have brought over myself.” He turned forcefully on his chair and said, “Sebastian loves Rose more than his own life, Erick. Do you realize what you have done by killing her? Did you even think ahead about that? Did you think that, one day, this unnecessary act could come back to haunt you?”
Svenson thought hard about what his friend said. He was right. Svenson had been a bit too rash. Perhaps he could have dealt with Rose. “I should consider your council more often, Ian. Let’s make sure that Sebastian does not find out about her. She stayed out in the sun too long. That’s as good a cover story as I can manage. How about you?”
“There’s little else to say,” he said.
Svenson turned and left the lab.
Firth went back to his microscope.

***
Sebastian woke from his preternatural sleep, frantically searching the bed and the room for his love, for his Rose.
Blasting through the corridor, pushing others aside, he searched for Rose. Screaming at others, begging them to tell him where she was. “Kari!” he yelled, seeing her exiting her room. “Have you seen Rose?”
“No, Sebastian,” Kari replied. “Not since last night. Did she say anything?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t remember her even coming back to our room this morning. I have to find Doctor Svenson.”
Without saying a word, he ran to Svenson’s office, opening the door without even knocking. “Erick, where’s Rose?”
“Good evening, Sebastian,” Svenson said as he rose from his desk. “And why would I know where Rose was?”
“She wasn’t in our room when I work!”
“Well…”
“She never gets up before I do,” he said, frantically pacing the office.
“Calm yourself, Sebastian,” he said as Firth entered the office.
Sebastian so torn by worry that he did not even notice the insincere look in Svenson’s eyes, he seemed to want to tear the office to pieces.
“We can all search for her,” he said, his hand motioning for Doctor Firth. “Ian, assemble the orderlies and the others. Let’s all go looking for our dear Rose.”
Out on the grounds, after a thorough search of the ward, the young vampires, the orderlies, Svenson and Firth, followed Sebastian as he frantically searched the darkness of the woods that surrounded the Asylum.
“Rose!” Sebastian cried. “Rose! Where are you?”
From out of the shadows, a single voice cried out, “Doctor Svenson! Come here! Now!” It was one of the orderlies. He did not know which. But he knew the cry meant something.
Sebastian nearly flew to the spot. There, he found the orderly standing over a pile of ashes, shining his flashlight on the spot. The ashes looked eerily like the outline of a human, or vampire, body.
No tears could flow. Shock overtook him. Slowly, Sebastian moved closer to the pile of ashes illuminated by the flashlight. Shakily, he knelt just short of the spot and ran his fingers through the ashes, clothed in burned cloth.
“Is this?” Sebastian asked.
“It would seem, I’m afraid,” Svenson said, “that she got caught outside during the daylight. Perhaps she could not get back in time, Sebastian. I’m very sorry, my son. I was quite fond of Rose.”
Near the left hand, Sebastian found something he feared he would find. It was confirmation that the pile of ashes before him was his Rose. Where her left hand should have been, he found the most precious gift he had ever given to her. It was their engagement ring. And the wedding ring. Thought they had not been officially married, they wore the rings nonetheless. In their hearts, they were married forever.
Firth flashed furtive glance at Svenson. A disapproving glance. He lit a cigarette, puffed it hard and walked away.
To the gathering, Svenson announced, “Let this be a warning to you all. The sun is not our friend. You must take care not to get caught out in it like our poor, unfortunate Rose here.” He waited a moment, then turned back to them, and said, “I think that we should give Sebastian some time to absorb his loss.”
With no other words, they all turned and headed back toward the Asylum as Sebastian bathed Rose’s ashes in his tears. All except Kari, who placed a comforting hand on Sebastian’s shoulder.

***
“Sebastian stayed in his room for months,” Kari said, as they drove on down the road. “He drank blood I brought to him. We became lovers after a while. But he wasn’t really with me. Rose was there. All the time. After a while, he became more and more distant. I know he suspected that Doctor Svenson was involved in Rose’s death. But he had not proof, so he kept it to himself. It festered inside him.”
“But you said that nothing but the sun can kill us,” Cole said.
“Maybe he kept her out in the sun?”
“But I go in the sun,” he said, insistently. “Kari, I’ve gone in the sun.”
The impact of his statement, and her realization that something was deeply wrong, hit her all at once. “Well, what then?” she asked. “What could have happened?”
“Well, whatever happened,” he said, “Svenson was involved. Maybe Firth, too.”
“But how?” she asked. “I mean, maybe you’re just different.”
“Doobie?”
“But, Cole,” she said, her mind racing to comprehend, “I’ve lived here for almost sixty years. I’ve tried to stay awake every morning. Nothing works. I just go to sleep.”
“I don’t.”
“You’ve only been here…”
“Doobie doesn’t either,” he said. “He told me that he doesn’t drink the blood that Firth supplies.”
She glared at him.
“I don’t,” Cole said. “They never gave it to me.”
“Oh, man, this sucks,” she said as she floored it.





Chapter 18
His face flushed white, Sebastian sat at the table, the book in front of him. Tears began to flow from his eyes as he read the story that told of his love’s death at the hand of his former mentor. As much as his heart burned with anger, it was as cold as the Arctic. It was as if all the love he had ever enjoyed in his life had vanished and had been forgotten. The tears dried. His expression slackened as all emotion, save that of anger and hate, drained from him.
Slowly, his hands rubbed the table. How many years had it been since he first set foot in this office? And how few times since the early days had he been welcome? But he did remember one very important thing. The table was made of ash. It was from Italy. But it was ash. That was the most important thing. In Svenson’s diary, the old man had given Sebastian the answer he needed, and the weapon was in his hands.
With controlled anger, he ripped one of the legs from the table and darted into the secret door in the back of the library.
Over the years, Sebastian had found all the little secret ways to get around the Asylum without being noticed. And the places where one did not exist, he made one. In moments, he came to the wood shop. The place was dark, illuminated only by cracks of light beaming through windows in the door.
Quickly, he placed the leg of the table in the lathe and spun it into the shape of his walking cane, the excess wood spraying off into the darkness. As soon as it was the proper shape, he sprayed it black to match his own cane. Blowing it dry, he affixed the silver ball to one end and the silver tip to the other.
“No bad,” he said. “Not bad at all.”

***
Darkness greeted Svenson as he entered with Ian and the orderlies. Sebastian re-shelved the volumes of Svenson's journals, save one, and he sat in the shadows with his new cane in his hand, twirling it like a baton.
Svenson looked in Sebastian's direction and smiled a bit.
“What’s up, Doc?” Sebastian said, baring his fangs.
Svenson turned to Ian and said, “I’d like to have a chat with out little friend here, Ian. Would you please tend to the others?”
“Erick?” Ian said. “I think it would be…”
“It’s all right, Ian,” he said. “We’re just going to have a chat.”
Not at all pleased, Ian motioned for the orderlies to leave with him, as Svenson moved deeper into the room, closer to Sebastian.
“You've been a naughty boy, Sebastian,” he said, tapping the table, running his hand across his diary.
Anger washed across Sebastian's face.
“This is truly the last place in the Universe I'd think to look for you.”
Sebastian seethed with barely controlled anger.
“Intelligence was never your forte,” he said, taking a seat across from him. “Sebastian, I think we ought to have a chat. Clear the air. Get everything out on the table, so to speak,” he said with a smile.
Sebastian sat, impishly and waited, tapping his new cane on the table.
“You know, Sebastian,” he said, “I do admire you in some small way.”
“Is that so?” he asked. “How?”
“Oh, your little attempts to oppose me,” he said. “Your impudent jibes, your impertinence in front of the others. Your defiance in the face of overwhelming odds when you know there is no way in hell that you could ever hope to defeat me.” Svenson’s glare became more and more sardonic as his gaze bore into Sebastian. “You killed Doctor Green, didn't you?”
“Seth's dead?” he asked in a sarcastic tone. “How sad. I didn’t know.”
From his sleeve, Svenson let slide a small spike made of ash wood, the same spike with which he murdered Rose. “I had great hopes for you. Sadly, you've disappointed me.”
“You’re so full of shit, Erick,” he said. “All your talk is just bullshit!
“What did you say?” he asked, anger growing within him as moment passed.
Sebastian stood to confront Svenson, who did the same.
“It's all bull shit, Doc!” he said, twirling the cane faster and faster. “I know what's been going on around here. I know so much,” he said, gritting his teeth. With murderous intent in his eyes, Sebastian twirled the cane between his fingers, tapping it against the table.
“What do you mean?” Svenson said, seething in anger.
“I know you walk in daylight,” he said. “And why is it you can walk in daylight, and we can’t?
“What are you talking about?” he said, prevaricating with every word.
“I know what you are, Doc,” he hissed.
Svenson tried to control his anger and fear as he retrieved his little wooden stake.
“Sebastian, what makes you think you can defeat me?” he said with a little less confidence than he should have.
As Sebastian moved slowly closer to Svenson, his cane is at his side and said, “Because I read your diary!”
Before Svenson could react, Sebastian thrusted the cane deep into stunned vampire's heart. Blood gushed from the wound as a look of horror spreads across Svenson's face as he realizes what has happened.
“You killed my Rose!” he said, spitting venom with every word. “I loved her and you killed her!”
Svenson grabbed at the cane and fought against Sebastian who forced him to the ground. Svenson fought against death, the realization of death. Images of the battle in Placentia all those millennia ago flooded into his mind. He could feel the rain pelting his head and could taste the blood in his mouth. The sounds of horses galloping by filled his ears.
“Before you die, tell me why you did it?” Sebastian hissed, snapping Svenson back to reality. “Tell me!”
Svenson struggled to speak against the pain, but he could not get the words past his lips. Sebastian pushed the cane deeper into Svenson's chest as the dying vampire attempted scream. Svenson’s mouth continued to move as he tried to say something, but his words fell silent.
“You fucking bastard!” Sebastian screamed. “Tell me!”
With no ceremony, Svenson stopped struggling, stopped living. He became totally still and his eyes fixed open. Sebastian pulled the cane out of Svenson’s chest.
Sebastian looked into Svenson's lifeless eyes, touched his face. The victory was hollow.
Suddenly, Ian and the orderlies blasted into the room. In a flash, Sebastian grabbed the volume he had on the table and disappeared into the trap door.
“Get him!” Ian yelled, pointing in Sebastian’s direction. The orderlies attempted to follow him, but they were too large for the trap door. “Tear the place apart! But you find him!” His demonic tone scared the shit out of the mortal orderlies and they instantly exited the study.
As they left, Firth turned to his fallen friend. Slowly, he knelt beside him. In the middle of his chest was a neat round little hold about four centimeters in diameter. It was more a puddle of blood than a hole. His white shirt was stained red. For some strange reason, he put his finger deep into the wound, withdrawing his bloodstained finger. For several moments, he simply stared at the dripping liquid.
Firth let out a deep sigh, and turned back to the lifeless face of a person he had known for many lifetimes. “How could you not see this coming, Erick?” he said, mournfully. “Your major fault was your arrogance. But that was what also kept you alive for all these millennia. So I guess it was a double edged sword. Now, I fear it has undone us both. I’m going to leave. If I stay, Sebastian will kill me. Now that he knows our little secret, he won’t waste time finishing me. I’ve been your co-conspirator in all this, your partner in crime. He’ll never forgive that. But I don’t think he’ll chase after me. I hope you don’t think me a coward. I never really liked the Asylum anyway.”
Slowly, he stood and moved toward the door. For a moment, fear gripped him. He had enemies, and they knew the secrets of their existence. He and Svenson had been friends for over three centuries. Now he would leave his body on the floor of the library. He would not bury him. Nor would he shed any tears. Death was their way of life. Over the centuries, Ian’s heart had hardened in so many ways. In his memory, he could see himself mourning a friend’s passing, but it was a faint memory at best.
Now, self-preservation was the emotion upon which he relied. Over the years, he had invested money very well. He could leave California completely and never look back. What he knew was that he had to get away from Sebastian. Knowing now that Svenson had murdered Rose, Sebastian’s hate would intensify by the moment. Though he had killed Svenson, that revenge would not assuage his anger. Sebastian would have to kill all whom he felt had betrayed him. That meant that Firth could never turn his back. Sebastian would never give up. Never.
But there was one thing he had to do. Just one more thing.






CHAPTER 19
“This place is creepy,” Morgan said as Tina slowed the car to the side of the road.
“Want out?”
“Not sure,” she said. “Tina, we can’t go in the front. You said their was a gate, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, pointing ahead. “I think it’s right up there.”
“What about the back?” Morgan asked.
“Huh?”
“Okay, here’s the front,” she said, pointing at the map. “There’s a wall around the outside, but it seems to stop back here. See?”
“Yeah. That looks cool,” she said. “But there’s one problem.”
“That is?”
“I’m afraid of the dark.”
“Wouldn’t you love to have the SS now?”
“You know,” Tina said after a long pause, “I love my brother, but this is nuts. We don’t know what’s back there. There could be snakes and shit there. Poisonous bugs. Tigers.”
“I don’t think there are tigers around here, Tina.” Morgan lit a cigarette and took a long draw off it. “I really wish this wasn’t tobacco.” She took a pull off the vodka and orange juice bottle, then turned to see a smile on Tina’s face. In her friend’s hand was a fatty. One of the biggest joints Morgan had ever seen. “You’re a lifesaver.”

***
Sebastian milled around the forest behind the Asylum, shafts of moonlight stabbing the ground around him like giant, heavenly daggers. The world he had known for almost six decades had been ripped to shreds. Rose had been gone almost as long, and though her loss was terrific, terrible, it was the thought that she had been murdered by someone they had both trusted so.
Sebastian touched the ground in the place where they had scattered Rose’s ashes. Would doing so bring him close to her? It was the first time he had been in this place since Rose died – was murdered.
All love had vanished from Sebastian. Even the love he had felt for Rose had turned to hate. Emptiness and pain filled the void. Hatred was his love. But he should not have felt this. The target of his hatred was dead. Well, not all. He must take care of Firth.
“Fucker!”
The word escaped without thought. It came from deep within him and found voice before he knew it would come. Quickly he searched the darkness to ensure that no one had heard him.
There was nothing else he could do but kill Firth. It was an imperative. Firth knew everything. He was part of everything. He had to die. Sebastian could not secure his leadership without that. Even with that, he would have to find out who was intrinsically loyal to him, and then kills those who would oppose him.
Off in the distance, he heard the distinctive crumpling of dried leaves being crunched under foot. Someone was coming toward him, but it was not from the direction of the Asylum. Cautiously, he trained his eyes on the direction from which the sounds came. One thing being a vampire gave you was great night vision and great hearing. Peering into the darkness, he saw two shadowy forms heading almost in his direction. And he could hear their teenaged banter from over a hundred meters away.

***
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Tina said, pushing branches away, and picking some of them out of her hair.
“Hey, princess,” Morgan said, taking up the read, “we’re here for your brother, not mine.”
“You could’ve picked a more pleasant route,” she said, spitting a leaf from her mouth.
“Well, a frontal assault was doomed.” Morgan stopped in her tracks and said, “I wonder if we’re still going in the right direction.”
“I’m not a girl scout.”
“No duh,” Morgan said. “Me either.”
“Jesus, this insane!” she snipped. “We’re never going to find the hospital.”
“If you’re looking for Holly Grove,” Sebastian's voice called out of the darkness, “you’re not that far away.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Morgan yelled, pulling her pepper spray from her purse. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Sebastian,” he said with an impish grin as he twirled his cane between his fingers. “You,” he said, pointing toward Tina, “look very familiar.”
“Read the papers much,” she said, narcissistically. “I’m the next president’s daughter.”
“Yes. Yes,” he said. “You’re Cole’s sister. Tina?”
“You know, if you’re trying to see Cole,” he said, moving closer, covering the sinister nature, “I can help you.”

***

Frantic, Tony rushed up to them as Kari parked the car, and the two of them jumped out.
“Where the hell've you been?” Tony asked, nearly frantic.
“What's wrong?” Kari asked.
“Fucking shit you would not believe!” Tony said as he led them towards the door and opened it.
“Where'd all that sand come from?” he said, as Cole brushed some sand from Kari’s back.
“We went to Santa Monica,” she said, “now spill it, Tony.”
“What's going on, man?” Cole asked.
“It’s fucked, dude,” he said, fear in every word. “We're not sure, but we think Sebastian killed Dr. Svenson.”
“Holy Fuck!” she said, slamming her hand into the wall. She turned to Cole and said, “Nothing can stop him now.”
From the shadows, Sebastian, full of himself, appeared at the door, twirling his cane. “Don't be afraid, children,” he said, sardonically. The others recoiled from him. “You are my children.” He turned to Tony and said, “Go tell the others there's an assembly in the Courtyard in ten minutes.”
“Yes, Sebastian,” he said, as he instantly vanished.
Sebastian, still twirling his cane, got between Cole and Kari, but glared into Cole’s eyes. “Cole, Kari's mine,” he said.
“Excuse me?” He could see Kari avert her eyes.
“I gave her to you for a while to let you get used to all this,” Sebastian said with a mordant smile on his face.
“What are you talking about?” he said. “Kari can make up her own mind.”
“Please, Cole,” she said. “Do what he says.”
“Yes, Cole,” he said, mockingly, “do what I say.”
“She can do what she wants!”
“Cole, listen to me. She was never yours in the first place. Think of her as your teacher. Class is over. You've graduated. Congratulations. There are many beautiful girls here at the Asylum. Take your pick.”
Cole’s eyes darted back and forth from Kari to Sebastian, then began to move toward Kari.
Sebastian deftly placed the point of his cane in the middle of Cole's chest, stopping him in his tracks.
Kari’s love for Cole bleeds from her eyes, but so does her fear of Sebastian. “Sebastian, stop!”
“I killed Svenson with this cane,” Sebastian said, pride and fulfillment filling his voice. As Sebastian pressed forward, Cole pushed his own chest against the point of the cane.
“Cole, stop!” Kari said, nearly frantic with fear.
“I can kill you the same way I killed Svenson, Cole,” he said. “You'd be surprised how easy it was to drive the cane into his chest.”
“Cole, I'm not worth it,” she said, on the verge of tears. “Let it go.”
Cole pressed harder against the cane and could feel it begin to enter his flesh.
“He can kill us both, Cole.”
“Cole,” he said, “you're still one of us. It doesn’t have to be this way.”
Seething with anger, Cole pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, popped one in his mouth, doing his best to control the trembles of anger, lit it with a safety match, took a big drag, then returned the pack to his pocket. He covered his anger. “I just need some time. Okay?” he said.
Slowly, a smile appeared on Sebastian’s face, then said, “When you're ready, come to the Courtyard.”
Sebastian enveloped Kari in a one-armed embrace and pulled her into the building.
Once Sebastian and Kari were out of sight, Cole’s anger welled up and it was all he could do to control it. His mind reeled with thoughts of how to deal with Sebastian. Obviously, if he killed Svenson, they all could be killed. But he had to control himself. He was new to all this, and not even aware of his own strengths. And he certainly was not aware of Sebastian’s. Was it just psychological? Or did their powers grow with age? If that were so, Kari would be almost as powerful as Sebastian. And she didn’t seem to be.
His anger lessened and he mindlessly opened the door and entered. Cole walked the empty corridor. Out of the shadows, Ian appeared. With lightning speed, he grabbed Cole by the arm and clamped his hand over Cole's mouth. “Please, don't scream,” he said, keeping his voice low. Slowly, he removed his hand when he is sure that Cole wouldn't scream.
“Dr. Firth,” Cole said, “what are you doing?”
“There's not much time to tell you what you have to know,” he said. He handed him a letter and said, “Take this.”
“Why me?”
“Because you're the only one I think I can trust, Cole,” he said, casting his eyes around the corridor, fear filling them. “If I'm not completely wrong, I'll be dead before the next sunrise.”
“Why don't you run?”
“That is my intention,” he said. “However, I'm only one. You're our only hope. Good luck.”
“You too.”
Ian disappeared in a flash.
Cole opened the note. He read it quickly, then headed towards the Courtyard.

***

Sebastian, with Kari at his side, stood on the stage as his flock gathered. He could see Kari scanning the crowd, hoping that Cole was okay. Sebastian’s jealousy seethed beneath the surface, but he did his best to control it.
Finally, Cole entered, slowly at first, tentatively. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen. And for the first time in days, he felt totally alone.
Cole stood off to one side, not sure what to do. He thought he had a girlfriend, then he found out that he might even die that very night. All the kids – not kids really – who were patients – no not patients either – these creatures he thought of as new friends, well they were… What were they? He began to breathe harder. His mouth opened and fear gripped him. If Sebastian went against him, how many would side with him against Sebastian? He was the new guy. They hardly new him.
Sebastian motioned for Tony, who dutifully came to him. “Get Ian in here,” he said. “Take as many as you need.”
“What about the orderlies?”
“They're only human, Tony,” he said with a grin.
“Tony nodded, then motioned for Cole to come with him.
“Not him!” Sebastian barked. “He stays.”
Tony nodded, then picked up a few vampires to go search for Ian. Sebastian motioned for Cole to join them on the stage as he ascended his thrown. Kari sat at his left side. Diffidently, Cole moved toward Sebastian, doing his best to avert Kari’s sullen, lovesick gaze.
“Glad you could join us, Cole,” Sebastian said, motioning for him to take a place at his right. “Now, doesn’t this feel nice.”
In a moment, Chrissy entered and walked confidently up to the thrown.
“Look what we have here, Cole.” Sebastian said. “I think you know each other.”
“Hi, Cole,” Chrissy said, a salacious tone in her voice.
“See, Cole, the Lord takes,” he said, pointing to himself, then he pointed to Chrissy, “and the Lord gives.”
Cole didn’t know quite what to do. He and Chrissy were obviously not strangers. Had it not been for him, Chrissy would not be in the Asylum at all. It was not that he wasn’t attracted to Chrissy – in fact, he was. She was beautiful. But his heart was somewhere else. And she was sitting across from him.
“See, Cole,” Sebastian said, “we’re entering a new phase here at Holly Grove. You, if you want, will have a pivotal role in what happens here.”
“Exactly what is that?”
“Well, think of it,” Sebastian said. “We have what we’ve wanted for decades; control of our lives. To everyone we meet, we’ll appear as mortals. Yet we still have the power that being what we are gives us. Now that we’ve gotten rid of our Warden, nothing can stop us from living a full and complete life. It’s going to be amazing.”

***
Ian fumbled for his keys, standing before his car, thinking that he should have just left, taking only himself away. He had money. Lots of money. He did not need to take this piece of shit car. He could buy hundreds of them. The most important thing was to get as far away from this place as he could before it was too late. But it was too late.
Before he could get his keys into the door lock, Tony, and a group of others surrounded him.
“Going some place, Doc?” Tony sneered.
“I have an appointment,” he stammered.
“Cancel it,” he snapped back. “Besides, the sun’s almost up. You wouldn’t get very far, would you?”
What could he say?
And before he could get any protest to his lips, Tony and the others pounced on him. He attempted to struggle, but they quickly subdued him.
“No need to struggle, Doc,” Tony said. “Sebastian’s fare. He’ll know what to do with you. If you’re lucky, you might just live to see the next sunset.”

***
A fire burned hot, and shone brightly on the faces of those gathered in the Courtyard.
Chrissy stroked Cole’s hair affectionately while Cole and Kari exchanged mournful glances. Sebastian ignored their interplay.
On the other side of the Courtyard, Tony appeared with Ian in the control of his aides.
Slowly, Sebastian rose and quieted the gathering. “Now that we've all assembled,” he said, “I have some very interesting news for you.”
A murmur ran through the gathering.
“As you all know, Doctor Svenson has left us,” he said, a slow smile appearing on his face. “Actually, I dispatched him to the afterlife. Our illustrious Dr. Svenson, and his handmaiden, Dr. Ian Firth” – he pointed toward Ian with his cane – “have been lying to us about the true nature of what we are!”
Everyone snapped their gaze toward Firth just as Doobie entered, smoking a joint.
“The sun is not our enemy!” he shouted. “Dr. Svenson and his cronies, they are our enemies!”
Shock and bewilderment registered on the faces of the other vampires.
Sebastian glared at Ian, and descended the steps to ground level. In an almost royal manner, he motioned for Tony’s men to bring Ian closer.
“Oh, this is too cool,” Doobie said, giggling.
Sebastian held up a bottle of the drugged blood. “Ian,” he said, condescendingly, “why don’t you tell my friends here what this is.”
Ian’s eyes spat ire as he remained mute.
“Cat got your tongue, Ian?”
Still no reply. What could he say? If he prevaricated, Sebastian could prove him a liar; and to tell the truth would only damn him more.
“The blood Firth supplied us to keep us from killing Mortals on the outside was drugged,” Sebastian announced. “The drug made us allergic to the sun, made us go to sleep.”
Sarah T. said, “Drugs can't affect us. You know that.”
“This one can; right, Ian?” Sebastian said.
Ian said nothing, but his demeanor told everything. In his eyes, Sebastian could see resignation. Firth knew he was about to die. Nothing in the world short of the Second Coming – if that ever could happen – could stop that.
“How can you be sure, Sebastian?” Tony begged.
“It made us sleep when the sun rose,” Sebastian reinstated, “and wake when the sun set. We’re going to stay here in the Courtyard until the sun rises.”
“I'm scared, Sebastian,” Sarah T. cried.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, Sarah,” Sebastian implored. “Doobie, you never sleep. Why?”
“I never drank the shit Firth gave us,” he said, crinkling his nose up. “Couldn't stand the taste of that bottled stuff. If it doesn’t come directly from the source, I don’t want it.”
“In other words, you never drank the blood from the Adult Ward?”
“Not a drop, dude.”
“And when was the last time you slept?”
“Day before I was made.”
“You see, children,” Sebastian said, bearing down on Ian, “You don't drink Firth's shit, you never sleep.”
Flapper stepped up, fear filling her eyes, and said, “What if you're wrong, Sebastian?”
“Sebastian,” Sarah T. said, fear filling her eyes, “we could die. You know the legends.”
“Legends are legends,” he replied. “Facts are facts. Right, Ian?”
“Not everyone's with you, Sebastian,” Ian said. “What are you going to do now?”
Sebastian turned to Sarah and said, “Why don't you ask Dr. Firth, Sarah?” he then turned to Firth and said, “Tell them, Ian.”
“He's lying!” he yelled out.
“Really?”
“Look at him!” How can you trust him?”
Viciously, with lightning speed, Sebastian slashes Ian's face with end of his cane.
Instantly, blood flowed from the wound.
“If you listen to him,” Sebastian hissed, “you’ll be listening to the liar. I found out that Dr. Svenson is a full, teaching professor at U.C.L.A. He teaches during the day. Chrissy here is one of his students,” he said, pointing to the beautiful blonde coed.
“Now, Ian, tell them the truth,” he said. “If you do, I’ll make this relatively painless.”
Ian no longer cared. He knew he was going to die, and no matter what, the pain didn’t bother him. He just didn’t want to give Sebastian have the day. “Fuck you, you little shit!” he said, blood dripping into his mouth from the wound in his face.
Like an un-caged animal, Sebastian launched a series of forceful blows at Ian's head and upper torso. The end of the cane broke off under the force of the blows. All of his friends recoiled from the scene thrashing. Blood sprayed from the wounds, tracing lines across Sebastian’s face. Sebastian stopped for a moment to survey his work.
“I'll tell you nothing!” he muttered through his broken and torn lips. “You can beat me for all eternity! I’ll never help you.”
Sebastian placed the tip of the cane at the middle of Ian's chest.
“You don't have that long,” Sebastian said, his eyes boring into Ian’s flesh.
Sebastian plunged the cane into Ian's chest, just barely breaking the skin. A small trickle of blood escaped past the shaft of the cane.
“Does that hurt, Ian?”
The effects of the ash being jabbed into him soon took hold of him. He could feel death filling him. Instantly, he relaxed. No longer did he fear the end. In many ways, he welcomed it. “Just do it, Sebastian,” he whispered.
Incensed, Sebastian slammed the cane deep into Firth’s chest and broke into laughter. Blood gushed from the wound as Sebastian yanked the cane away. Blood sprayed into the air and onto Sebastian, covering him with stripes of red.
Sebastian was not even aware of the horrid looks on the faces of the others. All he was aware of was the blood on his face. He touched it, touched the blood, with his finger, and slurped it into his mouth. It was only then that he noticed that Ian remained vertical, on his knees. “Can you just die now?” he said as he kicked him onto his back.
The gathering recoiled in horror. Moments later, Sebastian recovered from his murderous fugue and turned to the crowd.
“That was way cool, dude,” Doobie giggled.
“There, my children,” Sebastian said. “Svenson said that the only thing that could kill us was the sun or lack of blood. I just killed Firth with a stick. Do you doubt that what I say is true?”
“What if we can't go into the sun, Sebastian?” Sarah asked.
“It doesn't matter, children,” he said. “We're all staying here till the sun rises.”
“I'm not sure about this, Sebastian,” Tony said.
Sebastian whipped around and pointed the bloody cane at Tony’s chest and said, “Don't you turn against me, Tony!”
Tony backed down, putting up his hands submissively. The rest of them remained silent. Only Cole, Chrissy and Doobie seem confident that the sun will not hurt them.
Suddenly, a breath of warmth filled the Courtyard. Fingers of sunlight crawled across the horizon. Some of the vampires covered their eyes; or tried to shield themselves from the light. They grew more fearful and uncertain as the moments passed.
For some of them, this was the first time they had actually seen a sunrise in person, not on some TV show or in a movie in decades. As the orange glow of morning sunlight painted across their white faces, no blisters appeared on their skin. Some of them even look at the light. Stared into the rising sun as if it were the second coming.
Cole stared only at Kari. He could see the fear on her face. He mouthed, Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.
Sebastian fixed his eyes toward the coming light. But the though his eyes could not handle the intensity of the sunlight, he sensed that the sun would not hurt him. He smiled broadly, but as the sun rose higher in the morning sky, all the vampires, with the exception of Cole, Chrissy and Doobie, began to grow tired and weak.
“Sebastian, I’m dying,” Sarah cried, clutching at her skin.
Sebastian stood strong against the weakness in his knees. He did not want to show that the sun had any effect on him.
Tony glared at him defiantly, struggling against the weakening. “What is this, Sebastian? I can’t stand. I’m getting tired.”
“Stay strong, Tony!” he said, trying to bring his voice to full command value.
Kari’s pleading eyes flashed to Cole as she began to fall to the ground. Instantly, seeing that Sebastian was beginning to weaken, Cole went to Kari’s side. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”
“Get away from her, Cole,” Sebastian hissed, feebly raising cane as if to attack Cole. But as the sun rose higher in the sky, Sebastian’s arm dropped.
Cole ignored Sebastian.
“Get away from her,” he said, his voice trailing off, his legs growing weaker, “or I’ll kill your…” He could not finish the sentence as he dropped to his knees. Anger spilled from his eyes, as he mouthed words of hatred. But with little energy left, he staggered back and fell near Firth’s dead body, as one by one, all vampires began to fall to the ground. Sebastian tried to fight the lingering effects of the drugs, but it was no use. Rage filled him as he fell to the ground.
Sebastian stared at Doobie, who smiled back at him. Doobie's fangs vanished. “Doobie, you're fangs are missing,” he whispered.
“It's always been like that, Dude.”
Suddenly, Kari’s eyes closed and she fell in an apparent sleep of death.
“Why didn't you tell anybody about this, Doobie?” Cole asked, holding Kari’s lifeless body.
“I told you, dude,” he said, “they would've made me drink that shit if they knew. I ain’t gonna drink that drugged shit.”
“I'm getting out of here,” he said, looking first at Doobie, then at Chrissy, who also remained awake. “You want to come?”
“Sebastian would find me if I left,” he said. “He'll find you too.”
“I'll take that chance.” He turned to Chrissy and said, “You coming?”
“I have class,” she said.
“I think class is cancelled,” Cole replied.
Cole picked Kari up and walked away through the mass of tangled bodies.
“Wouldn't do that, Dude,” Doobie admonished.
“Why not?”
“He loves her,” he said. “He'd never let you keep her. He lost Rose. He won't lose her.”
Cole turned away without saying another word and left.
“I'm telling, Dude, Sebastian...”
“Fuck Sebastian!”
Chrissy looked at Doobie for a moment, then just sat down.

***
Cole, Kari lying limply across his arms, walked past the library. Inside, he saw Zephram cleaning up the mess left by Svenson's murder. “I wish you guys would start cleaning up the blood around here.
“Sure, Zeph.”
“Filthy damn mess,” he continued, whipping the mop back and forth through the pool of blood. “Blood everywhere. How in the Sam Hill do y’all `spect me to clean up all this shit?”
Cole walked away, leaving Zephram to finish his work.
“Never seen so much blood in all my days.”






CHAPTER 20
Cole put Kari in the passenger's seat of the car they rode in to go to Santa Monica. Cole blasted out of the parking lot, nearly knocking the gate down as it opened automatically. The fact that he had not slept in three days did not bother him. He did not at all feel tired. But Kari slept so soundly that he could barely perceive any signs of respiration.
As he drove down Sunset Boulevard, for the first time in days, he had time to think. But his mind was still a jumble. He drove up into Beverly Hills and cruised past his house. The mansion was quiet. His stepfather must be out on a campaign appearance. He wondered if Tina was there. Maybe she was.
Cole turned the radio on. He realized that it was Election Day. It was too early, even in the west coast, to get a read on the election. It was only nine-thirty in the east coast. Any projections would be irrelevant in a few ours.
Tina probably wasn’t in the mansion. She was probably with her dad.
Cole drove off.

***
Cole cradled Kari in his arms. The sounds of the oceans waves lapping against the shore, the scent of sea air surrounded him. He covered her face to guard her from the sun. Even if the sun wouldn’t kill her, it had been decades since she’d been exposed to it. He wasn’t sure what effect the rays would have on her fragile skin.
The letter Ian gave him burned in his pocket. He pulled the crumpled paper out and unfolded it. He read it with dread in his eyes. “Cole, there's little time,” Ian’s voice rang out in his mind. “You must know that the drug we used on the others will wear off in about three days from the last dose.
Cole looked down at Kari for a moment. “You know, Kari,” he said to her, knowing that she could not hear him, “I’m not known as being the most responsible person in the world. Or the bravest. This is a new role for me.” After a moment, he returned his gaze to the letter.
“Sebastian will be vulnerable during the day until the drug wears off. After that, he will be very dangerous,” Ian wrote. “I’d try to explain what’s going on, Cole, but it’s very complicated. Suffice it to say, I did find a way – quite by accident, mind you – to make us act like the archetypal vampire. I know we said that no drug can affect you, but that’s not entirely true. I’m completely sure of the biology, but it does work. Just remember, like Doctor Svenson, and I presume myself, Sebastian can be dealt with. The most important thing to remember is this:, in Svenson's library, there are many books which contain the whole of his preternatural life. All of his knowledge. Acquire them if you can. Best of luck. Dr. Firth.”
A great look of foreboding appeared on Cole's face. On the other side of the paper, he saw what appeared to be a short postscript. “Cole, we are not immune to the death.”
For hours, Cole sat next to the sleeping Kari. He watched the world turn before him. Around the country, millions of people were going on with their lives, going to the poles to cast their votes for president. So many normal everyday things were going on while he sat on the beach near the Santa Monica Pier. He watched as surfers caught the morning high tides.
Slowly, his mind drifted to the election. How was his stepfather doing? How would he feel about having a vampire as a stepson? How would he deal with such a thing in the White House? How would he shake the Secret Service to get a drink? How would all that work?
Then the question of Sebastian crept back into his consciousness. In a few hours, he would have to decide how he would deal with that monster. He could tell that Sebastian would not let the slight of him taking Kari away go easily. In fact, he knew Sebastian would come after them. That was a given. What would happen if he just took Kari back to the Asylum? Would all be forgiven? Doubtful.
In retrospect, he thought, it was foolish to leave. It was short-sighted. Stupid. So stupid. But he had done it, and there was nothing he could to do undo it. Cole had never been much of a fighter, but now he would be in for the fight of his life. He knew that in several hours he would have to confront Sebastian.
Lost in thought, he didn’t realize at first that Kari had begun to stir. Worse than that, the sun had begun to slip beneath the horizon. The day had been the longest and shortest of his life. He knew that the fight he feared would soon be in front of him. Nothing, short of running, could let him avoid it. And he would not run.
“Cole?” she whispered.
“I’m here,” he said, as he watched her wake.
“Where are we?”
“Santa Monica.”
“What happened?”
“Sun didn’t kill us.”
“Oh, my God, Cole,” she said, “what have you done?”
“I should have killed him while he…”
She placed her fingers on his lips to stop him, then she slipped her head onto his chest as a cool breeze wafted down from the mountains.

***
Slowly, the vampires in the courtyard awoke as the sun drifted away.
Firth's partially decomposed and desiccated body remained where it was when Sebastian killed him. Many moments passed before any of them awoke. Perhaps it was because they were out in the sun that it took longer for them to rouse. Sebastian was the first. He looked around the courtyard and saw that Kari was gone.
Struggling to his feet, he studied the area and noticed that Doobie and Chrissy were nowhere in sight. A moment later, they arrived, somewhat disheveled as if they had been having some fun. Sebastian fully regains his wits and looks at the group. They still look worried.
”Where's Kari?” he mumbled, as he ambled through the gathering.
“We couldn't stay awake,” Sarah said before Doobie could answer.
“I didn't lie to you,” he said, touching her face. “You’re still alive, and your skin is as beautiful as it was when you crossed over thirty years ago. We were in the sun all day long. It didn't kill us!”
“Why couldn't we stay awake?” Tony asked.
“It was the drug,” he flashed back. “It must take a little time for it to wear off. We will be fine.”
His words seem to placate the others.
Like a dork, Doobie raised his hand.
“You don't have to raise your hand, Doobie.”
“Well, it's like this, Dude,” Doobie continued, “Cole took Kari this morning. As soon as the sun rose, he bounced.”
Sebastian began to seethe with anger.
“He said – and I quote,” he said, `Fuck Sebastian.’"
‘Where'd he go?” he said through a sinister smile.
“I think I know,” Tony said.
Sebastian flashed an evil glare at Tony.
“I know where they went.”

***
Cole and Kari walked towards the almost empty end of the pier. Kari looked distant, lost, frightened. “He'll find us.”
“Maybe we can go to Transylvania,” Cole said with alacrity. “He'd never think to look for us there.”
“Be serious,” she said, folding into him.
“I am serious,” he said.
“He'll kill us both.”
A moment passed as they walked toward the end. It took some time for him to voice the words. “Do you love him?”
She smiled a little, shook her head, then caressed Cole.
“Sebastian just gets what he wants,” she said. “I don’t know why. He's like a brother to me. I mean, we had our time together, but that's been over for almost two decades. I think I remind him of Rose. He can't get that out of his mind.”
“Rose?”
“She was his girlfriend. Before he came over.” They got to the end of the pier. “They brought most of us into the Asylum in the early days.”
***
The war was over.
Americans all over the country celebrated. Kari Dera, dressed in her best walked along street, waiting for her husband, George Robertson, who had joined the Navy after Pearl Harbor. He was only seventeen when the war began, but his father didn’t hesitate to sign the papers when George wanted to join the Navy. For the past four years, he had spent most of his time on various ships, ending up on an aircraft carrier. He had gone to sea a boy, and had come back a man.
Roger and Kari had met at a USO dance in Nineteen forty-three. She was fifteen at the time, but she was very mature for her age. When Petty Officer George Robertson walked into the USO, bedecked in his dress uniform, his eyes locked onto Kari’s from across the room. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Her heart skipped a beat as she stood there hoping that he would cross the room and ask her to dance before anyone else could get to her.
They danced the night away, spending every moment together, even though the rules forbade it. The hostesses were forbidden to date the soldiers who came to the USO, but neither George nor Kari could resist.
With his thirty-day leave coming soon to an end, they begged her parents to let them marry. At first, they protested her youth, but Kari was adamant, and soon they relented.
Kari feared that George would go some dangerous place and be wounded, or even killed. He was the first guy she had ever fallen for and now she was his wife. The two years since they married seemed to last forever. The few days they could steel when he came home on leave could not last long enough.
One day, a telegram came from the War Department. Her heart almost fell out of her chest when she saw it, but then she realized that if he were dead, naval officers would bring the telegram. Quickly, she opened it and read it. George had been on the USS Indianapolis. Fortunately, he had survived.
Tears flowed so hard that night. But she could not understand why. George was alive. He was coming home.
About two weeks later, a letter came from George. It was short, terse and had none of the romance and longing that other letters had contained. He had been in the hospital for months. The brusque tone to the letter frightened her. It contained one crucial bit of information; the date upon which he would return.
The bus was late. Kari wandered the terminal for hours. Finally, three hours past the scheduled arrival time, the bus pulled in. Kari’s heart nearly banged out of her chest as she awaited George’s arrival. One. Two. Then three people disembarked. But not George. He was nowhere in sight. She began to fear that he had missed the bus, or perhaps something bad had happened to him in the hospital.
Finally, after all the passengers had gotten off the bus, George appeared. For an eternity, he stood at the top of the steps. His duffle bag hung on his shoulder. His uniform was pressed and in perfect condition. But his face was not the same face that she had kissed before he left his last deployment. He no longer seemed to be the youthful man she had married. He was only twenty-one years old, but the man looking back at her was not a young man, but the he had the look of a man who had seen too much of the bad things of life; almost as if he had died, but his body was still able to move.
“George?” she said, her voice weak and feeble, tears lining the edges of her eyes, almost ready to fall.
“Hi, Kari,” he said softly, almost as if he had little energy for speaking. Rather than descending the steps, he stayed in place, unable to move.
“George, come down,” she plead.
“Hey, buddy,” the bus driver said, “I gotta go to the head.”
“Sorry,” George said as he stepped off the bus. He stood only a few feet away from Kari, but it might as well have been a universe of space.
Before he could move closer, or father away, she leaped into his arms. But he wrapped only one arm around her. The other was gone. An empty sleeve hung where the arm should have been.
“Oh, my God, George,” she said, as she felt the space where the missing limb should have been. “What happened?”
Moments passed before he could talk to her. They moved off away from the bus into the terminal.
In a small café some blocks from the bus terminal, George and Kari sat silently across from each other. She wanted him to tell her everything, but she waited for him to find the words.
“When the first torpedo slammed into the side of the ship, I was heading for the bridge,” he began to speak tentatively. “The impact knocked me and a few other fellows off our feet. I didn’t realize it until I tried to get up that I had broken my arm,” he said, touching his empty sleeve. “It hurt so bad that I wanted to just run down to the infirmary, but there was no time for that. I ordered one of the seamen to brace my arm. After that, I ran to the bridge. A second torpedo hit us a moment after I opened the door. The Captain had been knocked to the floor too, and had begun to call out to all parts of the ship for damage reports. I don’t remember how long it took, but he eventually called for us to abandon ship.
“My heart sunk,” he continued, “seeing the old man’s face as he gave the order. His command had been shot out from under him. It was the moment of his greatest triumph, and his worst defeat. He had captained the ship that delivered the atomic bomb to the Island of Tinian. And on the way back, under radio silence, had been struck by two Japanese torpedoes.”
George sipped his coffee and stared off into the distance. It was the thousand yard stare that Kari had heard of so often, but had never seen in her husband’s eyes. It was that look of a man who had seen too much.
What happened to your arm? she asked in her mind. But she let him go at his own pace. Still, her heart fluttered in her chest. For the first time in two years, she felt like a little girl again. She felt her life being stolen away from her.
“In the water,” he continued, “I didn’t realize that the feeling in my arm had gone away. I was so focused on staying out of shark’s mouths that I never noticed my arm dying. The doctor on the ship did an emergency amputation. Said I would die if I didn’t lose the arm.”
Kari couldn’t take her eyes off his empty sleeve.
“I’m not the man you married, Kari,” he said, mournfully.
“No, Georgie, no,” she said, grabbing his remaining hand. “I love you.”
“I can’t be in the Navy anymore,” he said, as close to tears as a man could come. “What can I do? I’m not a whole man.”
Kari didn’t know what to say to him to mollify his fears.
Over the following few months, George fell deeper and deeper into depression. The VA had fitted him with a mechanical hook, but it didn’t replace all the things he could do before. His job at his father’s auto parts store made the rent, but every time he saw people come in and stare at his hook, his heart sunk. Even the chorus of well dones and atta boys for the job he did in the war did little to placate him. He wore a smile all day long, but on the inside, he was dying a little more each day.
At night, he drank. Kari cried with him, and begged him to believe that she still loved him. They made love only a few times since his return. Finally, they stopped making love altogether. George couldn’t stand the thought of anyone touching his stump.
As Christmas time came, there was no love inside him. He worked. He came home. He drank. He passed out. That was George’s life. That was Kari’s life.
Kari had taken a job at a small dress shop on Santa Monica Boulevard to help make ends meet. The time away from home, away from the brooding husband made her feel free at times. Before heading home, she would stop at the church along the way and pray for her George. She knew there was a good man still there inside him, and she hoped God would let him come back to her. In fact, over the past few weeks, Georgie had been getting better. Kari had done everything she could to make him feel wanted. And Georgie responded. It wasn’t easy, but finally, the familiar smile that Kari had missed so much, reappeared.
As had become her habit, she stopped at the church to pray, and then caught the bus to their home in West Hollywood. She would get home in time to make a romantic dinner for them, then quickly bath to change into something sexy. It was their anniversary and she wanted to make it special for them, hoping that the effort would help to make him feel better. He had to know by now that she still loved him, that she still wanted to be his wife.
Crossing the threshold of their second floor apartment, Kari went directly to the kitchen to drop the groceries she had purchased on the way home on the counter. George had always loved a thick steak, and he loved the way Kari prepared it. She would slather on a mixture of olive oil, garlic, black cracked pepper and kosher salt, then slap the slabs of meat onto a char grill on the balcony. A great big salad with homemade dressing on the side, and some baked potatoes and baked beans filled out the menu. George had told her that he would work a little late on Friday, and that was fine with her, since it would give her more time to get ready.
She had just kicked her shoes off as the phone rang.
“Hello? Who is it?” she asked.
“Kari?” the familiar voice said.
“Frank?” she asked. It sounded like Frank Robertson, George’s father. “Is that you?” she asked. His voice sounded shaky.
“Yeah, it’s me, Kari,” he said. “You have to come down to the store. I’m sending Jimmy down with a car to get you.”
“Frank, what’s wrong?” she asked, beginning to shake with worry. “Is there something wrong with Georgie?”
“Just… You have to come down here,” he said.
“Frank? Is there something wrong with Georgie?” she cried.
The knock on the door nearly made her jump out of her skin. She dropped the phone and ran to the door. Jimmy, Georgie’s younger brother stood on the other side. His face betrayed him. He had been crying and had tried to wipe the tears away. But they were still there.
Kari had never been to a cemetery before. Now she was here to bury her husband. This was not something that was supposed to happen for decades. She was still too young, barely eighteen. She was not supposed to bury her husband when she was till only eighteen. She was not even old enough to drink. Now, Georgie’s flag-draped coffin sat above his grave.
Her mind was jumble. When Jimmy took her to the shop, there were two police cars and an ambulance out side. On the sidewalk, there was a sheet-covered body, a small river of blood streaming out from under it.
“Is that…”
“No, it’s not Georgie,” Jimmy said, his voice quavering.
“Where is he?” she screamed.
Inside the shop, more police gathered. Frank stood to one side, a cigarette hanging from his trembling fingers, talking to one of the detectives. His pleading eyes fell upon her and he tossed the cigarette onto the floor and went to her. “Kari,” he began to say.
“Where is he?” she cried. “Where’s Georgie?”
“Georgie’s gone, Kari,” he said, struggling to get the words out.
Screaming out of control, she ran around to the other side of the counter only to find her Georgie dead on the floor. He had been shot in a botched robbery attempt. Frank, who had been working in his office, heard the scuffle, then the two shots, and ran out with his gun in his hand. He saw his son lying on the floor, and fired rapidly, emptying his revolver into the back of the robber, blasting him through the front door, killing him instantly.
Now, as life was just beginning to get better, Kari had to bury her husband.
Somehow, she was able to continue to work, and Frank continued paying her rent so that she would not have to move away. She wanted to stay in their apartment. Frank understood that. And he was happy to help.
At night, after finishing work, Kari would walk the Santa Monica Pier. Her heart was empty. Nothing she did brought her back. She just figured that she had to take her time and mourn her loss for as long as it took. At times, standing at the end of the pier, she contemplated joining her late husband. She could jump into the frothy, wave-tossed ocean and wait for the sea to consume her. But that probably wouldn’t work. She was an excellent swimmer. Self-preservation instincts would probably take over and she swim to shore.
“Are you okay?”
She didn’t recognize the voice. It was a girl’s voice. Slowly, she turned, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. The girl was beautiful. Quite beautiful. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight as she moved closer.
“You look sad,” she said.
Kari said nothing. To speak would have been to invite more tears.
“I’m Rose,” she said, as she came more into the light. Gently, she placed her hand on top of Kari’s. “What’s your name?”
“Kari. Kari Robertson.” That was all she could say.
“You’ve lost someone close?” she asked.
Kari nodded, and her face crinkled up as she attempted to stem the flow of tears. She folded into her arms as if she had been a friend all along, not someone she had just met a few moments ago. Rose held her tight to her breast. Tears began to flow. A little at first, then they came harder and harder.
In some ways, it amazed her that she would not accept solace from those who loved her, her parents, in-laws, but she could accept a shoulder to cry on from this total stranger. As soon as she could choke out a few words, she related the whole story to her as they walked the pier. Rose was a good listener. She said little, but what she did say was soothing.
Kari hadn’t had a girlfriend, aside from the girls at the shop, in years. Ever since she met Georgie, he had been her whole life. Now he was gone, and she was alone. But there was this new person.
“You don’t really want to die, do you?” Rose said.
“What makes you think that?” Kari replied.
“I’m not stupid, Kari,” she said. “I could see into your heart, the way you looked out over the water. Do you really want to die?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just want the pain to go away.”
“I understand,” Rose replied. “Maybe I can help.”
“You’ve been a help already,” she said. “Just listening helps. It was all supposed to be so perfect. The war was over. Georgie was supposed to come home. We’d have a family. He’d take over his father’s business when Frank retired. It was tough in the beginning – when he first got home – but it seemed like he was snapping out of it. I wish that asshole was still alive so I could kill him myself.”
“Think about it this way, Kari,” Rose said, locking her arm in Kari’s as they walked along the Ocean Avenue, “Georgie’s in a better place. He’s not in pain.” She looked at the blank stare in Keri’s face, then changed her tact. “And I’m sure he’s sad that you’re in pain. And if there was a way to make that pain go away, I’m sure he’d want that. Right?”
“Yeah, but the only way he could do that would be to come back to life,” she said.
“Well, maybe there’s another way.” She stopped them in front of a small apartment complex. “This is me,” she said. It was a place that she and Sebastian shared when they were away from the Asylum.
“Do you want a drink?”
“I’m not old enough to drink,” she said, dropping her coat on the back of a chair.
“I don’t think anyone’s going to care if we have a glass of wine or something,” Rose said. “Do you?”
“I guess not,” she giggled.
Rose poured two glass of wine and handed one to Kari. “Let’s go sit down.”
Hours of conversation, lubricated by copious amounts of wine, transpired.
“Rose, I have to thank you so much,” Kari said. “I haven’t laughed in so long, I almost forgot how it felt to be happy.”
“Maybe it’s just because you’re alone,” Rose said as slid closer to her, closer than a woman should to another woman.
“Maybe.”
“Well, I know a place where you’d be accepted,” she said.
“Where?” Kari asked.
“It’s close. East of here,” she said, getting closer and closer.
Kari wanted to move away, but she found it impossible to do it. Slowly, she felt Rose’s breath on her neck. Her lips were so close that they were almost touching her. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you a gift,” she said. Rose’s breathing increased and Kari could feel the moisture of her mouth on her neck.
“I’m not sure I want this, Rose,” she said.
“I need you now,” Rose said as she plunged her fangs deep into Kari’s neck. In her mind she struggled against the pain, but in reality, she simply submitted, going limp as the blood slipped out of her and into Rose. In moments, she felt her life draining into Rose.
Kari swooned as she looked up, expecting the veil of death to take her over in moments. Her brain did not even have time to think about the preternatural happenings about her. As she seemed to fall into a tunnel of darkness, she felt no fear. Perhaps, if the stories she learned in church as a young girl were true, she would be with her Georgie now. For the first time in months, regardless of the terror that brought her to this moment, she felt at peace. She could be with Georgie, or at least be out of pain.
The end, she now knew, was near. She could feel a strange sensation taking her over. Her body, what she could feel of it, began to tingle. She was sure that it was the death approaching. She welcomed it. Beckoned it to come to her.
Then, something different happened. In her mouth, she could feel a warm, viscous, somewhat salty liquid flowing into her mouth. As consciousness began to creep back to her, her eyes fluttered open and she could see a white hand at her mouth, and blood flowing from a slice in the wrist.
Hungrily, she lapped at the open wound, drinking the liquid of life as fast as she could, grasping Rose’s arm, holding onto it as hard as she could. Soon, the fog of exsanguinations began to lift, she felt Rose pull her arm away and clasped her opposite hand over the wound.
“Can you hear me, Kari?” she asked. “Can you hear me?”
“What did you do, Rose?” Sebastian said, entering the apartment.
“Yes, I can hear you,” she said. “I can hear you. Am I dead?”
“That question is a bit more complicated than we have time to answer,” she said, glancing back to Sebastian.
“I’ve been searching all over for you, Rose,” he said. “Where have you been?”
“I had to get away for a bit, my love,” she said, caressing his face. “I told you I just needed to be out of there. And you know that this is the place where I come when I need to get away.”
“Doctor Svenson is livid,” he declared, practically ignoring Kari. “You know he doesn’t like us straying for too long.”
“I know, Sebastian,” she said, “I know.”
“I’m feeling drowsy,” he said. “The sun must be rising.”
Struggling to her feet, Kari headed toward the door. “I have to go home,” she said, opening the door, and stumbling down the steps.
Frantically, as Sebastian slumped down onto the sofa, nearly incapacitated by the unseen rising sun. None of them could see the sun coming. The apartment was prepared to block out the sun. There were no curtains on the windows. They were completely blocked out.
“Rose,” Sebastian stammered, “com back. The sun is rising.”
Outside, Rose, grabbed onto Kari and stopped her just short of the doorway. Instantly, she gazed up at the horizon and saw what she had not in almost five years.
The sun. She was not dying. Her eyes were not used to the intensity of the light, but it did not burn her either. Why am I not dead? she thought. Why is the sun not killing me?
“Let me go, Rose!” Kari demanded.
“Come back inside, Kari!” Rose said. “Come back in now! The sun!” Even as she said the words, she knew the sun could not hurt her. She knew that Svenson lied to her, or that she was different than all the rest.
“I want to go home!” she cried, not able to fight back against Rose’s preternatural strength.
“You are home, Kari!” she said as she dragged Kari back into the apartment.
Inside, they found Sebastian in a sleep of death. Rose had never seen it. She had only experienced it. She had been away from the Asylum so long, almost a week. Was the Asylum the secret? Did something there make them allergic to the sun?
“Rose,” Kari said, “what’s wrong with him? Who is he?”
“He’s my husband,” she said, going to his side. “This is what happens to us when the sun rises.”
Even as she said the words to Kari, she knew something was too radically different.
“Why are you still awake?”
“I don’t know,” Rose said, tersely. There was nothing else she could say. But she did not want to let on, so she began to fade. It was the best acting of her life.
“What about me?” she said. “Why am I still awake? How could we go in the sun?”
“You haven’t come over yet,” she said. “I think, maybe, when you ran out, I had some sort of energy that protected me.” Slowly, she began to slump down next to Sebastian. “Come here,” she said, reaching for Kari.
Kari seemed to resign herself to her fate and crawled up next to Rose and Sebastian. She closed her eyes, not knowing where her life would now go.

***
Cole and Kari sat together on a bench. Hearing Kari’s tale was sobering for Cole. He could not take his eyes off of her. He loved the way her hair blew over her shoulders. She dug her bare feet into the sand, then she dropped her head onto his chest. He had been with girls before, but never with a girlfriend. Not for long, anyway. He had never been that emotionally available. Slowly, he put his arm around her.
“That whole time was such a jumble,” she said, “that I never even thought about what happened. I just always assumed that what Rose said was true. And she never said anything to Sebastian about it. I never said anything to Sebastian about it. It just faded into memory. Rose died the next week. After that, Sebastian, well, he just became morose. I tried to help him, and after a while, he and I became a thing. But the after about a year, we began to play switchies. Very progressive for the Nineteen Forties,” she said with a laugh. “Girls, guys,” she said, “didn’t much matter to me. I was empty inside. I had lost Georgie. My soul mate – as they said in the Sixties. The girl who brought me over was dead. Hedonism became a way to medicate myself. I still miss Georgie. And for the first time since then, I met someone I really care about. Sebastian sensed that. That’s why he did what he did.”
“Can’t apologize for him.”
“I’m not apologizing for him,” she said. “But he is my friend. The thing that scares me is, well, I think he’d kill me just as easily as he did Firth if he was in the right mood.”
“Don’t doubt that,” he said as he watched the sun slip completely below the horizon.
“I haven’t seen a sunset in a long time,” she said. “It’s very pretty.”
“Yeah. I guess we just take them for granted.”
“We can't just sit here, Cole,” she said. “The sun's down. He's awake.”
“If we do get out of this alive,” Cole said, “what do we do with the rest of our lives?”
“I'm not really thinking that far ahead,” she said, “but you’ll probably live in the White House. I doubt Sebastian could get in there.”
“God, can you imagine?” he said. “I’d have to call the asshole Mr. President.”
She smiled and shook her head. “You know you can't kill him.”
“It’s a Federal offense, Kari,” Cole said.
“I meant Sebastian,” she said, shaking her head.
“Why not? He killed Svenson,” Cole said. “That means he can die too.”
“I don't want to talk about...” she could hardly get the words out, “about killing him.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling her close to him.
By some unseen signal, they both rose to their feet and walked toward the pier. It was like a first date, in a way, even though they had come to the pier only the night before.
“I was just doing the math,” he said. “How old are you?”
“It's not polite to ask a woman her age,” she said with a giggle.
Cole stared off, not wanting to beg the question.
“I was born on January 25th, 1928,” she said.
“Holy shit,” he exclaimed.
“I came to the Asylum when I was nineteen,” she said.
“You’re almost seventy-six,” he said. “Talk about robbing the cradle.”
They both started laughing.
“What's wrong, babe,” she said, “can't handle an older woman?”
“It's hard to grow up when you look nineteen forever. “
“Some girls would love that,” he said, tapping he in the ass. “Look, I’m almost eighteen, you’re nineteen – sort of – so I guess it’s all good. Besides, I’m sure you can teach me a few things.”
“You can bet on that, sexy,” she said, licking his neck.
“Tell me one thing,” he said.
“Shoot.”
“What's with Sebastian?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why does he rule you? Them?” he said.
“He just is,” she said. “He and Rose were the first. We just followed. It’s the way it’s been since then.”
“I guess we’ll just have to take care of this ourselves,” Cole said.
“Cole, we…”
He placed his fingers against her lips to stop her speaking. Then he kissed her.





CHAPTER 20
Sebastian blasted down Sunset Boulevard, then turned south onto the Pacific Coast Highway. Like a demon possessed, he droves up onto Santa Monica Pier, and screeched to a halt. Bounding from the car, he marched down the pier. Rage boiled within him, so much so that he did not care who saw his preternatural strength or power. He had been slighted so much that he did not care if someone killed him. Resentment perfused every fiber of his being. He had, through Kari, brought Cole into their family. Then he stole Sebastian's second love, Kari, away from him.
A few tourists and locals milled about the pier, but they took little notice of the rampaging vampire as he bulleted toward the end of the pier, toward Cole and Kari.

***

Kari and Cole stood at the end of the pier, gazing out to sea, laughing and joking, nearly oblivious to the danger that bore down on them.
Kari becomes alarmed and stopped laughing, putting her hand up to stop Cole from talking.
“What's wrong?” he asked.
“Sebastian,” she said, searching the night with her senses.
“What about him?”
“He's close,” she said. “He’s coming.”
Even Cole became alarmed. Thinking about defeating Sebastian was one thing, but to really do it was another. Cole had never been much of a fighter, had always avoided confrontations when he could. In the past few days, due to his new nature, he had grown stronger than any jock who had ever given him a sideward glance.
But was he stronger than Sebastian?

***

With a devil's face on, Sebastian headed for the end of the pier, headed for Cole and Kari.
Three ragtag beggars approached him, hoping for a small handout.
“Get out of my way!” Sebastian blared, as he punched him in the jaw, slamming him to the ground, hitting him so hard that his jaw split into two and blood poured from his mouth. He backhanded the second, knocking him over the side of the pier into the dark waters below. The third he just threw over the side of the pier.
In his mind, he could see Cole and Kari at the end of the pier. His senses extended out and he had already trapped them with his mind. He would take out his vengeance on his prodigals.

***
Cole and Kari turned back to the shore and could see Sebastian raging toward them. They see the fire in his eyes.
“Run, Cole,” she said. “Run!”
“What?” he asked, rhetorically. “Run where?”
“Run! Just run,” she said, pushing him away. “I'll talk to him.”
“Hello, my dear,” Sebastian yelled from off in the distance.
It appeared to all that Sebastian flew through the air, but he ran so fast that it only appeared that way. Cole barely had time to even move when he realized that Sebastian was there. But he did get away before being caught, with Kari’s help.
“Stop, Sebastian!” Kari yelled, putting her hands up to stop him.
“Get out of my way!”
Sebastian pushed Kari to the floor as he tracked the now invisible Cole. Sebastian stopped his search and turned back to Kari.
Still on the ground, she grew fearful. Death dripped from every one of Sebastian's words. “Why did you go with him, Kari?”
“He took me when I was sleeping,” she said, though they both knew that she would have gone with him had she been awake.
“Sebastian is not appeased, my dear,” he said, stroking her face. “Go back to the Asylum. Wait for me there. I’ll bring Cole back.”
“Sebastian, don’t kill him,” she plead. “Please.”
“You care so much about him, don’t you?”
She could not speak, simply nodded, trembling in fear.
“Go,” he demanded in a soft but ominous tone.
“Don’t hurt him.”
“I’ll bring him back alive,” he said. “He’s one of us.”
Slowly, Kari ascended the steps at the end of the pier and headed toward the entrance. She did not want to leave Cole to Sebastian, but she had not choice. Sebastian, she knew, would kill her if she disobeyed him.
Sebastian waited for Kari to vanish at the end of the pier. It was at that point that he let his anger simmer to the surface. Slowly, he turned, extending his preternatural senses to see where Cole might be hiding.
“Come out, little one,” he said, condescendingly. “We need to have a chat,” he said, waiting for the answer that he knew would not come. As best he could, he tried to hide the anger, tried not to let it show in his voice. “Ollie, Ollie, Oxen free.” Again, he waited. There was no answer.
From behind a small building, Cole made a mad dash for the end of the pier. With power he did not know he had, he leaped about twenty feet into the air and out into the water, vanishing beneath the surf.
With disdain, Sebastian shook his head. Nonchalantly, Sebastian trotted back down the steps to the lower level at the end of the pier. “Cole!” he shouted out over the black water. “Cole! Come on! Listen! It's not that bad! I'm not angry anymore! I just want to talk!” He waited for a response, but none came back to him. “I won't hurt you! I promise!”
Sebastian turned his back to the water, and leaned against the rail. He took a great big breath and chuckled a little. “You know, Cole,” he said, “it's really a big misunderstanding. I'll let you spend time with Kari if you want. I know you like her a lot. I do too. I like a lot of the girls at the Asylum. We all have fun. You just have to come home.” He waited for an answer, then said, “Please don't make me have to find you, Cole.” Sebastian waited again, his anger growing by the moment as he shook the rails, then yelled, “Come out now!”
Abruptly, Sebastian reached between his legs, and tore open the floor of the pier. Between his legs, he saw Cole hanging from the I-beam, terror in his eyes.
“Got'cha!”
Sebastian reached down for Cole, but before he could get a hold of him, he let go of the I-beam, and fell into the ocean.
“I wasn't in the mood for a swim,” he said, shaking his head.
With a great big huff, Sebastian climbed over the rail. For a moment, he just pondered the dark water, and then he dove in.
Not having to breathe made swimming under water much easier. Sebastian searched for Cole through the murky, dark water. He quickly found him, snatched him by the back of the neck and dragged him to the surface. Cole struggled all the way, and when they broke the surface, began fighting. Sebastian seemed much more in control and his aim was much more precise. Holding onto the collar of Cole’s shirt, Sebastian accidentally tore it nearly off his back.
“I'm much stronger than you are!” he said. “You can't fight me!”
Cole was shocked at his strength. It was much harder than he thought it would be.
“Give up, Cole!”
Cole quickly tired and gave up. Sebastian dragged Cole through the surf to the beach. Huffing, coughing up water, Cole flopped down on the wet sand.
“You know, Cole,” Sebastian said, wiping the sand from his jacket, “you really can’t do this kind of shit. It really puts me in a bad mood. And I don’t like being in a bad mood. It’s not what I want in my life. Understand?”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Cole replied. “I really don’t want to piss you off,” he said, not really try to hide the sardonic tone in his voice.
“Let’s go, Cole,” he said. “We have things to do.”
Slowly, Cole dragged himself to his feet and followed Sebastian to the car. He wanted to run again, but he couldn’t even think of it. Sebastian would come after him again, and there was Kari to think of. She was heading back to the Asylum, and he knew she would go back. She was scared to death of Sebastian.
No, he would go back with Sebastian, no matter how repulsive the thought of doing so was.





CHAPTER 21
The vampires gathered in the Courtyard.
Sebastian paced silently from side to side on the stage, tapping his cane on the floor as he paced. Off to his left, Kari stood looking terribly frightened and unsure of herself.
To Sebastian's right Cole stood bare-chested, his shirt finally gone.
Tony ran up to Sebastian. “We're all here, Sebastian.”
Sebastian nodded and smiled.
“Sebastian, what if you're wrong?”
“Wrong?” he said. “Did we die in the sun?”
“No,” she said.
“You question me now, Tony?”
“No, Sebastian, I ...”
Without a word, Sebastian thrust the cane into Tony's chest.
Shocked and mystified, Tony slumped to one knee.
Horrified, the rest of the crowd backed off. Cole and Kari flashed shocked looks at each other.
Doobie's smile slowly vanished.
“Why?” Tony asked a look of anguished pain in his eyes.
“You don't go against me, Tony,” he said, twisting the cane in Tony’s chest. “No one goes against me.”
Disheartened, Tony looked up at him, searching his face for some sense of the friend he had once been. But there was no humanity left in him. “You asshole,” he whispered, as slowly closed his eyed and died.
“Indeed,” he hissed.
Swiftly, Sebastian stood, and turned toward Cole. Menacingly, he held the tip of his bloody cane at Cole's chest. He poked at him a little. Blood began to flow from the wounds in Cole's chest.
“How dare you go against me, Cole,” he said. Do you see what I did to Tony? He’s been my friend for decades. I killed him just now. I have no feeling of remorse at all. I actually enjoyed it. If I could kill my friend like that, what do you think I’d do with a usurping little bitch like you?”
Sebastian thrusted the cane a little deeper into Cole’s flesh.
Cole winced a little bit as the tip of the cane sank into him.
“Sebastian stop!” Kari cried.
“Shut up!” he yelled. “You just keep your fucking mouth shut!”
Kari recoiled from him.
Sebastian marched up and down the stage, the eyes of all the vampires on him. It took some time for him to calm enough to continue.
“You know what's really amusing?” Cole said. “In all the excitement, I forgot that someone came to see you.”
Cole looked at him questioningly.
Some of those still loyal to Sebastian brought Tina, dazed, weak from loss of blood, into the courtyard.
Cole's eyes went wide as he attempted to go to her. “Tina!” he shouted as some of the others restrained him.
Weakly, Tina called back to him, “Cole!”
“You know her?” Kari asked.
“She's my sister!”
Morgan entered from the doorway through which they had brought Tina. Her fangs were clearly visible. She had been brought over. She had been restrained with Tina during the time since they came to the Asylum to find Cole.
Cole continued to attempt to go to Tina, but others restrained him.
Kari realized what they had done to Morgan, whom she had not met, but she could see that Tina was still not made, or she had not been fully turned.
Sebastian poked the point of the cane into Cole's chest to stop him as he tried to break free from the vampires who restrained him.
“I could've killed you many times before, Cole,” he said.
“You stay away from my sister!” Cole raged.
“You took Kari from me,” he said. She loved you, not me. I think it's only fair that I take your little sister from you. Don't you?
“Hold him harder,” he said to the loyalists.
They instantly took hold of Cole as Sebastian, twirling his cane, moves toward Tina.
“Stop him!” Kari cried out to the others. “He doesn't care about any of us!”
“Et tu, Kari?” he said, parroting Caesar’s words at the moment of his own assassination. “Nobody can stop me!”
“Don't bet on it,” she said under her breath.
Sebastian reached Tina and stroked her hair with his free hand. “What shall I do with you, you sweet thing?” he asked. He noticed the small, almost healed wounds in her neck next to the fresh ones. “Ah, it seems that someone has already been here already,” he said. “You love your dear sister, don't you Cole?”
“You stay away from her!”
“Or what?” he asked. “What will you do?”
Sebastian moved closer to Tina. Fear filled her face. Sebastian ran his fingers through her hair. “She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Cole?” Tina whimpered, recoiling from Sebastian’s touch.
Cole struggled to get free, but more of the loyal one restrained him.
“Let her go, Sebastian!”
“Mind your place, my love,” he said. “Just watch what you say, Kari.”
With lightening speed, Sebastian sank his fangs into Tina's neck and drained her to the point of death in a moment.
“No!!!” Cole cried, breaking free and ferociously launching toward Sebastian. “You son-of-a-bitch!”
Sebastian dropped Tina to the ground like a rag doll and turned to face the enraged Cole, who knocked the cane out of his hand and blasted him back, head over heals.
The others gathered around as the battle ensued. Blow after blow left both combatants bloody and weak, but anger and hatred kept them going. Blow after blow, the two combatants tore into each other with abandon.
With a mad cry, Sebastian slammed a chair over Cole's head and knocked him down to the ground. Weak and battered, Sebastian staggered toward the cane. Blood dripped down his hand from wounds on his arms and onto the cane as he picked it up. He struggled to his feet, seemingly emboldened by the fight. “Now that’ll wake you up in the evening!” he bellowed.
Cole rolled over, moaning with the pain, and slowly got back to his feet, staggering backward, nearly to the wall.
With the cane pointed forward like a matador to the bull, Sebastian shouted, “Ole’” and charged Cole.
Cole backed up a few paces as Sebastian charged him. Though it seemed to all that Cole’s days are at an end, somehow he slapped the cane from Sebastian's hand. The cane first bounced end over end, then rolled on the ground and came to a stop at Kari's feet. Instantly she picked it up and clutched it to her chest.
Cole and Sebastian continue to trade blows. Though both have sustained serious damage, neither one gains the advantage at first. Suddenly, Sebastian, in a maniacal rage, his eyes filled with animalistic fury, pounded Cole to the ground. He could not even lift his head to look at Sebastian who stood over him.
“Look at this fucking guy,” he said, circling his nearly beaten foe. After a full circle, he turned back to Cole, nearly got in his face and growled, “Tina's mine, Cole. Svenson, damn his soul, took Rose from me. Murdered her! You took Kari from me. You might as well have murdered her. Now, I’ll take Tina from you. And, if I’m in a bad mood, I'll take Kari too.”
Blood streamed from Cole’s mouth and he seemed spent. More blood flowed from open wounds on his face. He struggled to get to his feet. He looked to Tina who lay dying on the ground paces away from him.
“You know, Cole,” he said, “you could have been my friend.” He circled him, glaring with disdain. “With Svenson and Firth gone, there’s nothing we couldn’t do. With your contacts in government, we could have been great. But that’s all over now. I don’t really need you. I control your sister,” he said. “My cane, Kari! Bring it to me! Now!”
Kari, cane in hand, all eyes on her, slowly walked towards Sebastian. She put the cane out in front of her.
“Kari!” he said, a mordant smile on his face. “Now! Now, Kari! I want to dispatch this piece of shit before the sun rises. I don’t want to have him walking around if the drug doesn’t wear off in time. He might take the opportunity to drive my own cane into my chest. Now we wouldn’t want that, would we, Kari?”
Cole watches Kari move toward Sebastian, feeling betrayed with every step she took. With his eyes, he pleads with her to stop.
And she did.
“Don't you betray me again, Kari!” Sebastian snarled. “Give me the fucking cane now! Do you understand me?”
Frightened and uncertain, Kari stood back with the cane still in her hand. All the others glare at her, wondering what she might do.
Sebastian moved toward her, his hand out in front of him. “Give me the cane, Kari!”
They locked eyes.
“Forgive me,” she whispered as she slammed the cane into Sebastian's chest and out the other side. Sebastian reared up in pain, clutching at the cane that stuck out of his chest as if he could not believe that it was there.
Blood spurted from both wounds. Soon, weakened from the battle and the stab wound, he fell to one knee. Cole and Kari, in tears, knelt beside him.
“I'm sorry, Sebastian,” she said, hoping that he knew why she had to do it.
Not assuaged by the compassionate look in her eyes, anger poured from Sebastian's eye.
His eyes began to wander as his life drained away.
Tears flowed from Kari’s eyes, as the other vampires began to gather around them.
He became lucid for a moment, struggled to speak, and looked off into the crowd.
A jolt of pain seized Sebastian for a moment. He struggled to control it, but could not. He reached for Cole, grasping at his shirt.
As if distracted by some unseen visage, Sebastian looked over Cole's shoulder. Slowly, his eyes cleared and a faint smile came to his face and he became placid.
What he saw in the crowd, what no one else could see, was his Rose. She looked almost angelic as she moved through the crowd and closer to Sebastian.
“What’s he looking at?” Kari asked.
“I don’t know,” Cole replied.
“You said we'd be together forever, Sebastian,” Rose said. “Don’t death. Don’t fight it, my love. Come with me now. It's time to come home,” she said, reaching out her hand to him.
Sebastian, his mouth forming unspoken words, the smile growing even larger, slipped away.
“That was strange,” Kari said.
“Yeah,” Cole said, almost dismissively.
The rest of the vampires moved closer to get a better view of Sebastian.
“What do we do now, Cole?” Sarah asked.
“How the fuck should I know?” Cole replied. “Have fun, I guess. How old are you, Sarah?”
“Seventeen.”
“I mean really!”
“Forty-eight – I think,” she said.
“You’re a middle-aged woman,” he said. “Act like it.”
A frantic look appeared on Kari’s face. “Cole! Tina.”
“Holy shit!” he leaped to his feet and bounded over to Tina, who was so close to death that mere moments separated her from it. He could feel her life ebbing from her by the moment.
“She’s dying,” Cole said.
“You don’t have a choice,” she said. “You have to do it or she'll die, Cole. You have to. She’s your best friend. You said that. Do you want her to…”
“No, God dammit!” Cole's mind raced with the decision.
“She's going to die, Cole,” Kari said, touching her neck, feeling for a pulse. “You can save her. But you have to do it now.”
Feebly, Tina spoke to Cole. “It’s okay, Cole. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m not afraid.”
“How do I do it, Kari?”
“You know how to do it, Cole,” she said. “Just do it. You don’t have time to think.”
With no more hesitation, Kari slices open Cole’s wrist and slams it against Tina’s mouth. Blood flows from the open wound and pours her blood into Tina's mouth. Hungrily, she laps at the blood, drinking it as quickly as she could.
Suddenly, Tina burst into laughter as blood dripped down from her mouth. Morgan pushed away from the vampires who still restrained her and ran to Tina, hugging her and kissing her. Finally, the whole group falls into a group hug around Tina and Morgan, pulling Cole and Kari with them.





CHAPTER 22
Amidst the throng of vampires gathering their belongings, Cole and Kari walked hand in hand through the hallway of the Juvenile Ward with Tina and Morgan, holding hands, beside them. They passed by one of the bedrooms. It was empty, but the television was still on. President-elect Raymond Archer took the podium with Lacy and other supporters.
“Thank you!” Raymond said. “Thank you all so very much! Lacy and I are so honored to be here with you all.” A rush of applause rips from the gathering in the hall. Raymond motioned for them to quiet, then said, “I have just received word from my opponent, Governor Watkins, that he has seen the writing on the wall” –
“That is so lame,” Tina said.
– “and has conceded defeat!”
The gathering exploded in a wild applause.
“I’m going to vomit,” Tina added.
“I have to thank all of you who voted for me,” he said. “I'll endeavor to make my efforts worthy of your confidence.”
Cole shook his head, and said, “What a dork.”
Doobie came up to them and stood silent in front of Cole.
Moment’s passed before Cole finally said, “You need something, Doobie?”
“Well, like, dude,” he stammered, “I hope you’re not pissed at me and shit.”
“Doobie, I’m not pissed you,” he said, seeing a placated smile appear on Doobie’s face. “See, you’re a complete dipshit. So I allow for your stupidity.”
Doobie became crestfallen. “Dude, you’re not going to kill me, are you?”
“I don’t give a shit what you do,” he said. “Just stay away from me.”
“You got it, dude,” Doobie said, schlepped off.
“What a fucking idiot,” Cole said.
“Don’t be so hard on Doobie,” Kari said. “He’s really not that bad a guy. He’s just fucked up.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. After a moment, Cole looked up and said, “Doobie.”
“Yeah, dude?” he said, stopping in his tracks.
“Get some guys. Go to Svenson’s library,” Cole said. “Get all the books that are there. Take care of the old ones. Load them into the van.”
Doobie smiled and said, “You got it, dude.”
“Listen, Kari, go to your room. Get what you need. We're not coming back.”
“This is so weird,” she said.
“What?”
“I’ve lived her for over fifty years,” she said. “It seems weird to think I won’t see it again.”
“Well, maybe we can stay in the Lincoln Bedroom,” he said.
“Do we have to make a donation?”
Sarah T. and Flapper bounced up and Sarah said, “Everyone’s in the courtyard, Cole.”
“They want to know what to do,” Flapper said.
“What do they want from me?”
“We don’t know what to do,” Sarah said.
“Tell them to do what they want,” Cole replied.
“We don’t know what to do, what we want,” Flapper said.
“Maybe you can talk to them, Cole,” Kari said.
“They can’t all come to the White House,” Tina said.
“Give me some time to think,” he said.

***
Cole gathered the few things together that he had brought to the Asylum. There was some sheet music, pictures of Beethoven. Tina and Morgan sat together on his bed.
“What do we do now, Cole?” Tina asked.
“Does anyone have a brain in their heads?” he asked. “How the hell should I know?”
“Sorry for talking,” she said, casting her eyes downward.
“I’m sorry, sis,” he said, sitting next to her. “Look, you and I are siblings. We’re not going to not be together. I love you to death. Morgan, well, I guess you go with the sis.”
“Cole,” Morgan said, “no disrespect intended, but these people all look up to you, for some reason.”
“And I’m supposed to…”
“Yes,” she said. “we’re not like other people. I know that much. For some reason, we’ve been brought into this. They need a leader.”

***
“I got all the books from Svenson's library, Dude,” Doobie said, as he caught Cole entering the courtyard. “Loaded them into the van like you said.”
Cole nodded solemnly and motioned for Doobie to go into the Courtyard.
Cole entered the Courtyard and went to the stage. Fingers of sunlight began to touch the night. All eyes fell upon him. Kari took her place at his side, as did Tina and Morgan. After a long moment to consider his words, he began to speak. “Many of you have been – what we are – much longer than I have been. I don’t know what to tell you about what you can do. You can do what you want. As long as you don’t go killing anyone – no one needs to see bodies littering the streets – you can live as you want.”
“Where do we go?” one of them asked. “I don’t know what to do. My family’s dead.”
“Go where you want,” he said. “You don’t need to eat, except the blood. No one can kill you. Go where you want.”

***
Cole, Tina and Morgan stood outside the janitor's closet with a single match in his hand. Kari came up to him with her things in her hands.
“I’m ready,” Kari said.
Cole struck the match on his teeth, and tossed it into an open container of paint thinner, which burst into flames. “Zeb’s going to be really pissed.” After a moment, they all move off.
Outside the hospital, flames begin to blast from the juvenile ward of the Asylum slowly became engulfed in flames. Cole, Kari, Tina, Doobie, and the other's watch as the building goes up in flames. Then they slowly turned and walked away.
“Where do we go?” Kari asked.
The entire population of the juvenile ward of the Asylum flooded the sea strand north of Santa Monica Pier as the sun rose fully above the Eastern Horizon. Kari and Cole sat together next to Tina and Morgan. All of them sat steeped in anticipation as the sun cleared the mountains.
“Cole?” Tina said.
Slowly, he turned to her.
“How do we explain this to the President?”
“Explain what?” he said. “That you’re dating a chick?”
They all fell into laughter as they bathed in the glow of the sun.

THE END