Vampires didn't need to breathe. Their blood was borrowed, and their hearts didn't beat. They existed in a kind of stasis, never decaying, and never experiencing the cellular processes of life. But they used their lungs, inhaling air in order to speak. And to sing.

Mercedes's vocal cords didn't suffer at all from her being a vampire. She was a belter, yet her mezzo voice rang like a bell. She sang show tunes and torch songs. Fast, jazzy pieces and slow, bluesy pieces. Some I recognized, some I didn't. Every one of them had me at the edge of my seat. She owned that stage, and she needed the full orchestra to keep up with her. Nothing else possibly could.

She spotted me. From the stage, she looked right at me, caught my gaze, and she knew who I was, could tell what I was from forty feet away. Her smile thinned, her eyes narrowed into a sultry gaze, almost but not quite winking at me. Then she turned, and it was all part of the song, all part of the act. Every person in the audience probably imagined she was looking right at them.

Part of me didn't trust her talent. Vampires had…something. Energy, power, presence. They were seductive, they spent decades practicing being seductive. More than that, some of them could entrance you with a look. Hypnotize you. You'd follow them anywhere without knowing what was happening. They lured their prey to them.

She might have been casting that spell over the whole audience. Ben's jaw was open.

She gave two encores, then the lights came up, and it was over. I shook my head, like I was trying to clear a fog from my mind. The spell was fading. I reached over to close Ben's mouth for him. He blinked, also spellbound.

"She's impressive," he said.

"Want to meet her? I've got a backstage pass."

"Are you kidding?"

"Perks of the job, baby."

"Did—was I imagining it? Is she really—"

"Yeah. That's why I'm here. Come on."

I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the aisle. Back in the lobby, I followed my nose to a side corridor that led to a plain-looking door. We slipped through it to the chaos of backstage. Cables and lighting fixtures decorated shadowy concrete walls. Velvet drapes hung from a ceiling that was lost in darkness. The whole thing was, strangely, both cozy and industrial. Musicians carried instrument cases from the brightly lit stage.

I didn't spot anyone who looked official. At most rock and pop music concerts, a whole barrage of staff and bouncer types would have stopped us from getting this far. I'd marshaled my speeches that would get me past them to see Mercedes. But no one paid attention to me here. I was almost relieved when I spotted someone dressed all in black and wearing a headset. Even then, I had to intercept her.

"Can you help me? I was invited to visit with Ms. Cook after the show, do you know where I can find her?"

Just like that, the techie showed Ben and me to a back hallway where the dressing rooms were.

"Well?" I asked Ben. "Ready for this?"

He shrugged. "It's your show."

"Remember, she's a vampire. Totally creepy. Don't let her seduce you."

"Hey," he said, indignant, and I knocked.

"Come in," said Mercedes Cook in her rich mezzo.

I opened the door inward. As I did, the stunning redhead seated at a long, brightly lit makeup table turned to me. She'd put a black silk robe over her gown. Her face was perfectly made-up, if thickly for the benefit of the stage. Cosmetics masked the usual pale vampire complexion. She looked alive, more so than any vampire I'd ever met. And her image showed in the mirror, perfectly clear.

Vases of flowers covered the table and spilled onto the floor nearby, giving the room a tropical, heady atmosphere.

"You must be Kitty Norville," she said.

I offered my hand to shake, and she did, smiling indulgently. Her grip was cool. I gestured over my shoulder. "This is my friend, Ben."

"Great show, Ms. Cook," Ben said diplomatically. He stayed a step behind me, ready to let me make my own mess.

"Thank you very much," she said, flashing a brilliant smile. "Please, come in, have a seat. I think there are a couple of extra chairs here." We found the chairs, and I scooted mine close to her, like we were a couple of old friends.

I rarely had a chance to prep for an interview like this, meeting the subject beforehand and getting a feel for how they'll respond to my questions. In moments, Mercedes put me at ease. Already I could feel that she was going to give a great interview.

"Thanks so much for the tickets. We had a great time."

"I'm glad. I had a good audience tonight, but I always wonder. Maybe they're just being polite."

Friendly, endearing—she didn't even talk like a vampire. Maybe she was young—for a vampire—and hadn't yet acquired the arrogance of centuries. I started to ask, then thought I should save it for tomorrow's interview.

"If you're up for taking calls during the interview tomorrow, you'll get to ask your fans directly."

"I'm looking forward to it. I've done lots of interviews, but never anything like this." That smile glittered. Not a hint of fang showed. She genuinely seemed happy about the interview. "I want to thank you for giving me this chance. Once I decided to tell the world what I am, I had to decide how to do it. Being on your show seemed like such a fun alternative to a stuffy press conference."

I was sought after. My show had credibility. I could have burst with pride.

I tried to stay grounded. "Going public will change everything. No one will ever look at you the same. This could end your career."

"Or raise it to an entirely new level. Going public certainly hasn't hurt your career."

"I can't argue with that. But most of the time I feel like I'm madly treading water just to keep from going under."

She laughed, a musical sound—of course. "Oh, that doesn't have anything to do with being a werewolf. That's life."

She had a point. I just smiled. "I won't be offended if you decide to back out of the interview."

“Don't worry, Kitty. I'm not exactly an innocent young thing in this business. It's my choice to go public, and I know what I'm doing."

These kinds of interviews involved a bit of give and take. We were both after publicity, but ideally we wouldn't sound self-serving. We wanted to be entertaining. I wanted the whole thing to sound like a pleasant conversation. And at the same time I wanted to get as much information as I possibly could.

My smile turned sly. "Just how 'not young' are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Why is that the first thing anyone wants to know about you when they find out you're a vampire?" Her gaze became hooded, her smile mysterious.

Ah well, it was worth a try. "Morbid curiosity, I think. Can I ask if you belong to a Family? Do you have a Master or someone you had to argue with about this?"

"No Family. I'm the Master of my own little world. I like it that way."

"Amen," I said. "I figure in the interview we'll get the big news out of the way, I'll ask a few questions, then open the lines for calls. Sound good?"

"Fabulous."

“Then I'll see you at the station at eleven tomorrow night. You have my number? You'll call me if you need anything?"

"I'll be fine, thank you," she said, another laugh hiding in her voice. "Thanks again for agreeing to do this."

"My pleasure."

We shook hands, she and Ben smiled at each other, and we made our way out of the theater. I was almost skipping, I felt so good.

I chatted at Ben. "This is going to be great. She's so cool, she so doesn't act like a vampire. Most of them are total snobs, and I was thinking snob and Broadway star to boot, she'll be terrible. But she was totally decent. My audience’ll love her."

An amused smile touched Ben's lips. "Maybe it's because she's been passing as human. She's like you—you spend enough time acting human, you seem more human."