Blood Lines

away and straightened Henry's arm. Sliding her glasses back up her nose, she leaned the bat against the end of the bed. "One way or another."
    Chapter Ten
    'Oh, my God."

    'What's wrong?"
    Vicki wet her lips. "Absolutely nothing. You look… uh, good." Henry's costume had been made traditional in a score of movies-turn-of-the-century formal wear with a broad scarlet ribbon cutting diagonally across the black and a full-length opera cloak falling in graceful folds to the floor. The effect was amazing. And it wasn't the contrast between the black and the white and the sculptured pale planes of face and the sudden red,'gold brilliance that was Henry's hair.
    No, Vicki decided, the attraction was in the way he wore it. Few men would have the self-assurance, the well-bred arrogance to look comfortable in such an outfit; Henry looked like, well, like a vampire. The kind you'd like to run into in a dark alley. Several times . "In fact, you look better than good. You look amazing."
    'Thank you." Henry smiled and smoothed the sleeve of his jacket down until only a quarter inch of white cuff showed.
    A heavy gold ring gleamed on his right hand. "I'm glad you approve."
    He could feel the years settling on him with the clothing, feel the Henry Fitzroy who wrote romance novels and was occasionally permitted to play detective submerge into the greater whole. Tonight, he would walk among mortals; a shadow amid their bright lights and gaiety, a hunter in the night. Good lord, I'm beginning to sound as melodramatic as one of my own books .
    'I still think you've got a lot of chutzpah going to this party as a vampire. Aren't you taking a big chance?"
    'And what chance is that? Discovery?" He draped the cloak over his arm and peered at her in the classic Hammer Films Dracula pose. "What you're looking at here is the purloined letter trick; hiding in plain sight." Dropping the pose, he smiled down at her. "And it isn't the first time I've done it. Think of it as a smoke screen. Halloween calls for a disguise. If Henry Fitzroy is a vampire on Halloween, then obviously he isn't the rest of the year."
    Vicki draped one leg over the arm of the chair and smothered a yawn. "I'm not sure about that logic," she muttered.
    Early mornings and late nights were beginning to take their toll and a four-hour nap in the afternoon hadn't done much beyond throwing her internal clock even further out of whack. Barely more than a year away from the twenty-four hour aspect of police work, she was amazed at how quickly she'd lost her ability to adapt. The evening spent with her weights had gotten the blood flowing a little, washing away some of the fatigue. Henry's appearance had started things moving faster yet.
    Henry's nose twitched as he picked up the sudden intensifying of her scent and he lifted one eyebrow, murmuring softly, "I know what you're thinking."
    She felt herself flush but managed to keep her voice tolerably casual even as she shifted position in the chair and crossed her legs. "Don't start anything you can't finish, Henry. You've already eaten."
    The Hunger had been blunted earlier, a necessity if he was to spend the evening in close proximity to mortals and be able to think of anything except the life that flowed beneath clothes and skin, but Vicki's interest had resharpened an edge or two. "I haven't started anything," he pointed out, not bothering to hide his smile. "I'm not the one squirming in my…"
    'Henry!"
    '… seat," he finished quietly as the phone rang. "Excuse me a moment. Good evening. Henry Fitzroy speaking. Oh, hello, Caroline. Yes, it has been a while. Working on my latest book for the most part."
    Caroline. Vicki recognized the name. While Henry was no more her exclusive possession than she was his, she couldn't help but feel… well, smug. She not only shared Henry's bed, which the other woman no longer did, but she shared the mysteries of Henry's nature, which the other woman never had.
    'Unfortunately, I have plans for tonight, but thank you for asking. Yes. Perhaps. No, I'll call you."
    As he hung up the phone, Vicki shook her head. "You know, of course, that there's a special circle in hell for those people who make promises to call, then don't."
    'They'll probably run out of room long before my time." Henry's voice trailed off. And then again, maybe not . While he continued to dream of the sun, every dawn might be his last. For the first time, he looked beyond the possibility of his death to all the things it would