“My purpose was not to give you a forum for your canned lobbying spiel,” Ben said. “My purpose was to find out why you haven’t been able to pass the bill.”

“I think you already know the answer to that question. Two words: Todd Glancy.”

“Despite your best efforts, Senator Glancy wouldn’t support the bill, right?”

“Worse. He led the opposition. And as a senator from a top oil-producing state, he had a lot of clout.”

“So it would be fair to say that your job would be a lot easier if Todd Glancy was out of the Senate.”

Melanfield looked as if he were taken aback by the very idea. “If you’re suggesting that I made my testimony up, I can-”

“Just answer the question, sir. Senator Glancy is your political opponent. And your job would be a lot easier if he was gone. Right?”

“I… suppose I can’t deny it.”

“And if he loses this trial, he will be gone. He’ll be replaced by an appointee of the Oklahoma governor, a Republican with deep ties to the oil industry, right?”

“I don’t know what the governor will-”

“What’s more, Brad Tidwell will become the senior senator from Oklahoma. And he already backs this bill, right?”

“He has had the foresight to lend us his support, yes.”

“So a conviction against Senator Glancy is a win-win for you, isn’t it?”

“Objection,” Padolino said. “This is becoming offensive.”

“Overruled,” Herndon said. “But I do think you’ve made your point, Mr. Kincaid. Is there anything else?”

“Yes. After this alleged eavesdropping incident, sir, did you tell anyone what you had heard?”

“No. Why would I?”

“You’re saying you caught a U.S. senator engaging in ethically and perhaps legally improper behavior. Implying that he either was blackmailing her and was being blackmailed. Did you report this to the Senate Ethics Committee?”

“Becoming a tattletale isn’t exactly the key to popularity for a lobbyist.”

“Did you tell the police?”

“No.”

“Did you tell anyone? A friend? Your boss? Your wife?”

“No.”

“But now, after all these months of silence, you expect the jury to believe this heretofore unmentioned story?”

“Look, it was one thing when I thought the man was diddling around with his intern. That’s not exactly unprecedented. But when she turned up dead, that was different. Of course I went to the authorities.”

“With what? Did you hear Senator Glancy make any threats against Veronica Cooper?”

“No.”

“According to your testimony, she threatened him.”

“Right. Said she was going to ruin him.”

“I submit, sir, that your testimony makes no sense. We knew from the videotape that, at or around the time you heard this alleged conversation, Veronica Cooper was having intimate relations with Senator Glancy. That she was even instigating the encounter, at least to some degree. That’s an odd way to ruin someone.”

Melanfield smiled. “My guess is she made the videotape.”

All at once, Ben felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room, as if his heart had stopped beating.

It hadn’t even occurred to him, but it made perfect sense. What was more likely, that the tape was made by a political opponent, or by one of the persons involved? She made the tape-and made sure it got out-to bury her boss. To set up a lawsuit that could make her rich for the rest of her life. If she had lived.

“Move to strike,” Ben said, much too late to be effective. “Witness is speculating. His testimony is not based upon personal knowledge.”

“Sustained,” the judge ruled. “The jury will disregard the witness’s statement.” But Ben knew it would make no difference. Whether Melanfield’s theory had any proof was irrelevant. It made sense. It fit. And even the most persuasive lawyer on earth would have a hard time convincing a jury to disregard their common sense.

“You’re tellin’ me you really suck people’s blood?” Loving asked, leaning as far away from Morticia as possible. He wished he’d worn a turtleneck.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” she replied. “Why should I? There’s nothing new about it. Human beings have drunk blood since the dawn of time. Vampires were reported by the ancient Sumerians.” She scooted closer. “All my life, I’ve felt like an outsider. Someone who didn’t belong. But as soon as I was introduced to Circle Thirteen, I thought-I’ve found my tribe! These are my people. I don’t need scarification, now. I have something else to take its place.”

“And that would be…?”

She looked at him levelly. “I think you already know the answer to that question.” She slipped a finger under the shoulder strap of her dress and wriggled it down, revealing what was hidden beneath.

Wounds. Several slashes running down her shoulder.

“I-I thought vamps bit people in the neck.”

“Some do. Unfortunately, you can kill someone that way. Shoulder wounds are less dangerous, easier to get to, and easier to conceal afterward. They bleed a lot, but there’s no chance of bleeding to death from a shoulder cut. It’s perfect, really.” She pulled the strap back up. “So I can do all the things my body wants me to do, and still wear hot clothes.”

Loving shook his head. “I can’t believe you actually-”

“Have you not listened to anything I’ve said? Wake up and smell the bloodlust, handsome.” She beckoned toward someone at the other end of the room. A moment later, they were joined by a tall and thin, stubble-cheeked, midtwenties man wearing a leather shirt, leather pants, leather lace-up sandals, and a black cloak. His ears and a good part of his face were covered with piercings, and he wore a thick silver band around his neck. The man had also shaved his head, except for one twisted strand that dangled down in front of his eyes. His face was abnormally white: Loving suspected he used makeup to create the effect. And he was supposed to believe this guy had a normal nine-to-five job?

“Charles,” Morticia said, “show the man your teeth.”

“Why should I?” he replied. His voice was low and guttural.

“So that he can believe.”

“I don’t get ’em out unless I plan to use them.”

“Please,” Morticia insisted. “I’ll make it worth your while later.” She looked at him sheepishly. “Say cheese.”

The man shrugged, then, after a moment’s more hesitation, smiled.

They were properly called canines, Loving knew, or eyeteeth, but at the moment it was impossible to think of them as anything but fangs. They were prominent, long, and extremely sharp. Sharp enough to cut through almost anything. Or anyone.

15

“I ’m taking you two out to dinner tonight,” Senator Glancy announced, after Judge Herndon ended the day’s session. “Special permission from the judge-don’t have to be back to my cell till ten. So what do you say? It’ll be just the three of us, plus my dear, sweet federal marshals. We need to talk.”

“We could try Stan’s,” Christina suggested. “It’s nearby. It’s mentioned in all my guidebooks.”

Glancy shook his head. “Too close to the Washington Post offices. I don’t want to be spotted by a bunch of reporters. Especially reporters who’ve had too much to drink.”

“What about Two Quail? I hear it’s very elegant.”

“And packed with lobbyists. Who are even worse than reporters. At least the reporters don’t offer to fix you up with women.”

Ben’s jaw lowered. “Lobbyists do that?”

“Ben, they’ve got gorgeous babes standing by to provide a BJ in the bathroom if you’re on their A list. Or they’ll pick up a hottie and deliver her to your place-so you won’t be seen doing it. And as fun as that sounds, we need someplace our privacy will be respected.”

“Then you’d better pick.”

Glancy smiled broadly. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“The usual table, Senator Glancy?”

“If it’s convenient.”

“Of course. Right this way.”