Blood Lines

of her head. Fortunately, it appeared that her little meeting with the pavement outside the Solicitor General's house had done no lasting damage. And a concussion would be just what I need right now . "Oh. Nothing. Just thinking out loud." The party had put them ahead only in that they now knew what they'd only suspected before; the mummy was ensorcelling the people who controlled the police forces of Ontario, acquiring its own private army. No doubt it intended to set up its own state with its own state religion. It had, after all, brought its god along.
    They had a name, Anwar Tawfik, the man she'd helped out of the elevator at the Solicitor General's office. She couldn't prevent a twinge of sympathy, after three thousand years in a coffin, she'd be violently claustrophobic, too.
    Still, I should've dropped the son of a bitch down the elevator shaft when I had the chance .
    She banged her fist against her thigh. "I don't think it can succeed at what it's attempting, but a lot of people are going to die proving that. And no one's going to believe us until it makes its move."
    'Or a good while after it makes its move."
    'What do you mean?"

    'Who does the average citizen call when there's trouble?" Henry pointed out.
    'The police."
    'The police," Henry agreed.
    'And it controls the police. Shit, shit, shit, shit."
    ' Very articulate."
    Vicki's smile was closer to a snarl as she shifted position on the edge of the bed. "It looks like it's up to us."
    Henry threw his forearm up over his eyes. "A lot of help I'll be."
    'Look, you've been dreaming about the sun for weeks now and you're still functioning fine."
    'Fine? Diving through that library window wasn't what I'd call fine."
    'At least now you know you're not going crazy."
    'No. I'm being cursed."
    Vicki pulled his arm off his face and leaned over. The spill of light from the lamp just barely reached his eyes but, in spite of the masking shadows, she thought they looked as mortal as she'd ever seen them. "Do you want to quit?"
    'What?" His laugh had a hint of bitter hysteria. "Life?"
    'No, you idiot." She wrapped one hand around his jaw and rocked his head from side to side, hoping he couldn't read through her touch how frightened she was for him. "Do you want to quit the case?"
    'I don't know."
    Chapter Eleven
    The absence of shadows against the wall told him he had slept late, his body trying vainly to regain some of the energy spent on spell-casting the night before. His tongue felt thick, his skin tight, and his bones as though they had been rough cast in lead. Soon, a slave will wait at my bedside, a glass of chilled juice ready upon my awakening . But soon , unfortunately, did him no good at the moment. He looked over at the clock-eleven fifty-six, oh three, oh four, oh five-and then tore his glance away before it could trap him further in the progression of time. Only half the day remained for him to feed and find the ka that burned so brightly.
    Moving stiffly, he swung out of bed and made his way to the shower. The late Dr. Rax, who over the course of a varied career had been familiar with the sanitary facilities, or lack thereof, along the banks of the Nile, had considered North American plumbing to be the eighth wonder of the world. As gallons of hot water pounded the knots from his shoulders, he was inclined to agree.
    By the time he finished a large breakfast and was lingering over a cup of coffee-an addiction every adult ka he had absorbed seemed to share-he no longer felt the weight of his age and was ready to face the day.
    For a change, a cloudless blue sky arced up over the city, and, although the pale November sun appeared to shed little warmth, it was still a welcome sight. He took his cup to the wall of windows that prevented the other, more solid walls from closing in around him and looked down at the street. In spite of laws that forced most businesses to remain closed on the day known as Sunday, a number of people were taking advantage of the weather and spending time outside. A number of those people had small children in hand.

    The series of individually tailored spells he had worked last night, each with its own complicated layering of controls, had drained him and the power he had remaining would barely be enough to keep him warm as he chose the child whose ka would replenish his. He was using power in a way he would never have dared when unsworn souls were few and even slaves had basic protections but, with nothing to stand in the way