24

When I arrived at Brandon’s chambers at the top of the castle, he was standing by the circle of chairs over by his viewing area. The screen was paused on a shot of Jason Priestley entering the Peach Pit, and Brandon watched me as I crossed the room to him.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” I said.

“Nicholas called ahead,” he said. “Is it true? Have you come to use your powers on the book?”

I walked past him and sat in one of the chairs opposite him by the long-dead fireplace. “I’m not sure yet.”

Brandon looked disappointed. “Oh,” he said. “I see.”

I leaned back in my chair. “I don’t know about you, Brandon, but I’ve had an interesting afternoon.”

Brandon stayed where he was and put his hands to rest on the back of one of the other chairs. “Did you, now?” he said, his grin showing he was at least amused by my being there. “Please… do tell.”

I pointed up to the painting over the fireplace of his beloved Damaris. “Do you know the name Allorah Daniels?” I asked.

What little color there was in his face melted away. The smile on his face was gone. The lord of the land looked crestfallen. “I didn’t know the name then, no,” he said, “but you can be sure I found out after the whole incident died down.”

“I’m surprised you let her live,” I said. “Not that I’m sure you would have been the victor, especially now. She’s grown up to be quite a toughie.”

Brandon came around the chair, sat in it, and leaned across to me, his eyes searching my face. “How do you know all this?”

I held up my gloved hands, wiggling my fingers. “I’ve had a very telling psychometric vision.”

“But don’t you have to touch something that belongs to a person to do that?” Brandon’s eyes wandered as the realization hit him. “You’ve seen her?”

I nodded. “Technically speaking, I sort of work for her,” I said. “Allorah Daniels is part of the Department of Extraordinary Affairs.”

Brandon fell back against his chair, shaking his head slowly side to side. “So you know my past,” he said, “and yet you chose to come back here… Why?”

“Well, for one thing, your people are trying their best to untangle my girlfriend from your building,” I said. “But the other reason is that I see the faith the people around you have in you. They’re not the type of vampires that I saw in that vision. You’re not the vampire I saw in that vision.”

Brandon’s eyes looked into mine. There was a darkness there. “I will always be that vampire,” he said. “No matter how I choose to act now, I will always be that man.”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it,” I said. “This whole kinder, gentler bloodsucker thing has taken a lot of getting used to, but like you told me earlier, if you had wanted a bloodbath, you would have had it. The Brandon I saw from twenty years ago was well on his way to it. So what changed you?” I pointed up to the painting over the fireplace. “Was it her? Was it watching her die?”

Brandon looked up at the painting for a long time before he nodded. “Centuries of stories, centuries of legend telling us what we are, how we’re supposed to be feared,” he said. “No one ever questioned it. We were what we thought we were supposed to be.” His chest rose as he let out a short, bitter laugh. “And certainly no one told me how to process the feelings Damaris and I shared for several centuries. We were prepared to take America and let the streets run red. Ours was a dark and sinister love. When all that went away, when Allorah struck her down, everything changed. Over the centuries, I had forgotten what it felt like to lose someone. The feelings that I had were conflicting. I didn’t dare continue on my path. I locked myself away in here.”

“And that’s when you came across your prophecies,” I said. “You were looking for answers in any piece of your history that you could.”

Brandon stood and walked over to the heavily geared safe I had seen before and began working its many dials. After a few seconds, it clicked and hissed open. When he turned he was holding that sacred vampire tome of his.

“Even more pages have gone missing from the book,” he said. “It seems someone close to me is insistent on starting a holy war between our people.”

“Nicholas is pretty sure whoever sucked Jane into the computer and released the ferals are one and the same. I’d say the missing pages are part of a trifecta of someone forcing a bloodbath before either of our sides make contact.”

Brandon walked over to me. “So,” he said, holding the book out to me. “Will you help us? Will you help me?”

I stood up to face him, man to vamp. “You know, I’ve spent the past year debating the fine differences between good and evil,” I said. “They even teach a few seminars on it. Thing is, I’ve always suspected that what really matters isn’t going to be found in one of their textbooks or a pamphlet.” I nodded, peeling off my gloves. “If my department finds out about this, I’m as good as done, but then again, what did they expect putting me in Other Division?”

Brandon handed the book over to me. “Thank you,” he said.

“Still not sure about your whole me-being-your-savior thing, though,” I said, nervously taking the book from him. Although it was maybe twenty pounds tops, the weight of the responsibility made it seem like it was made of lead.

“I’ll see what I can read off it.”

“See what you can tell me,” Brandon said. He smiled. “I want this saboteur stopped. I’m rather fond of this city. It would be a shame to not see what happens to it over the next few centuries. It would be a shame if our two people couldn’t see it together.”

I sat back down with the book and laid it on the circular table where Brandon’s council usually met. I ignored the fleshlike cover of the book and turned past it quickly. Using care with the pages, I gave it a quick once-over. After the first few pages, English gave way to an unidentifiable tongue that I hazarded a guess was Slavic or something fun like Abyssal.

I shut the book and laid both my bare hands on the leathery cover. I wanted to gag at the thought of it possibly being bound in human flesh, but instead focused and pressed my power into it, hoping to get a glimpse of whoever had been responsible for all the pages that had gone missing.

I felt my power snap to life as my mind’s eye opened up. Now I would get some answers. That was the last thought I had as I pushed my psychometry into it and promptly passed out.

When I woke, I was staring at the castle ceiling and my head hurt as if I had been drinking all night. I pushed myself up to my elbows and looked around. I was still in Brandon’s chambers, but now on the floor next to the toppled-over chair I had been sitting in. Brandon was staring down at me, unmoving.

“Simon?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just had a bad read; that’s all. I’m getting a little sick of how good a job your saboteur has been doing. Hurts my pride more than anything.”

I left out the fact that the back of my head was on fire from where I had no doubt it hit when falling over. I only hoped I wasn’t bleeding for fear Brandon might have a change of heart on the whole peace-on-earth thing with the scent of a snack in the air.

Using just one hand, Brandon helped me up from the floor like I was made of paper. “What did you see?”

When he put me down, I started brushing myself off. “Thanks,” I said. “I’m afraid I didn’t see anything.”

“Nothing?” Brandon leaned over and picked up the book from the floor.

“Nada,” I said. “The same blinding white light that guarded the cellblock and knocked me on my ass is tenfold as strong on this thing.” I shook my head to get my senses back, feeling the cricks in my neck popping. “But it has done something useful.”

“It has?” Brandon asked. “What?”

“It’s got me angry,” I said, “and motivated. I’m sick of getting punched around when trying to use my powers. It’s time I got a little more proactive…”