Blood Lines

hearing seemed to be getting better-or maybe she just had to pay more attention to what she heard.
    Vicki had no doubt that based on sound alone, she'd be able to pick these girls out of a lineup. One pair of flats, one pair of heels; the soft shirk, shirk of polyester sleeves rubbing against the body of a polyester jacket; the almost musical chime of tiny, metal bangles, chiming in counterpoint so they each must be wearing a set. One sounded as if she had a mouth full of gum, the other as if she had a mouth full of braces.

    '… and like she was just pressing her breasts up against him."
    'You mean she was pressing her padding up against him."
    'No!"
    'Uh-huh, and then she has the nerve to say she really loves Bradley …"
    And what do you children know about love ? Vicki wondered, as they moved out of earshot. Henry Fitzroy, the bastard son of Henry VIII, the Duke of Richmond, says he loves me. What do you think of that ? She sighed. What do I think of that ?
    She dragged her fingernail against the vents in the dashboard of the BMW, then sighed again. Okay, so he's afraid of dying, I can understand that. When you've lived in darkness for over four hundred years and then start dreaming about daylight … A sudden thought struck her. Jesus, maybe he's afraid of dying tonight. Maybe he thinks he can't deal with the mummy . She fumbled for the door handle but stopped herself before she actually got the door open. Don't be ridiculous, Vicki. He's a vampire, a predator, a proven survivor. A friend. And he loves me .
    And I'm going to drag up that goddamned non sequitur every goddamned time I think about him from now on. She raised her eyes to the heavens she couldn't see. First Celluci and his wanting to have a "talk" and now Henry and his declarations. It isn't enough we have a mummy rampaging around the city? Do I need this?
    It's just like a man to want to complicate a perfectly good relationship.
    Sliding down on the leather seat until her head was even with the lower edge of the window, she closed her eyes and settled down to wait. But only because there wasn't anything else she could do.
    With the lights in the hall turned down to a dim orange glow-extending the Halloween motif out of the actual party area-the curve of the stairs threw a pool of deep shadow just outside the library door. Shrouded by the pocket of darkness, Henry wrapped himself in his cloak and leaned back against the raw silk wallpaper to consider his next move.
    According to Sue Zottie, the Solicitor General and Mr. Tawfik were in the library-but he could sense three lives on the other side of the wall and there was nothing to suggest that any of the three had just broken free after millennia of confinement. All three hearts beat to the same rhythm and…
    No. To an identical rhythm.
    The hair rose on the back of Henry's neck as he pressed himself farther away from the light. Hearts did not beat so completely in sync by accident. He had, in fact, heard it happen only once before, in 1537 when, faint and dizzy with loss of blood, he had pressed his mouth to the wound in Christina's breast and drunk, conscious of nothing save the heat of her touch and the painful throbbing of his heart in time with hers.
    What was happening in that room?
    For the first time, Henry felt a faint unease at the thought of actually facing the creature who had been so long entombed. The time of change had been the most powerful, all encompassing experience in his life, not only in the seventeen years before but in the four hundred and fifty-three years since, and if the mummy could call that kind of power to its control…
    " You think you're up to this wizard-priest ?" Celluci had asked.
    His answer had been scornful. " I am not without resources ."
    He had defeated wizards in the past, relying on strength and speed and force of will, but they had followed rules he recognized and had not come with their own dark god.

    ' You think you're up to this wizard-priest ?"
    The voice of memory had grown sarcastic and Henry's brows drew down. He certainly wasn't going to give Celluci the pleasure of seeing him give up without a fight.
    The three hearts paused, then two began again in tandem and one beat to a rhythm all its own.
    He had to get into that library. Perhaps through the gardens…
    Then the single heartbeat approached the door and Henry froze. The knob turned, the door opened, and a woman with close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair stepped out into the hall. Henry