Blood Lines

he said in such a tone Tony had no choice but to believe it. "Tell me what happened. From the beginning."
    As Tony spoke, slowly at first, then faster as though he were racing his fear to the end of the story, Henry had to turn away. He walked to the window, spread one hand against the glass, and looked out over the city. He knew the dark-haired, dark-eyed man.
    ' He's killing children , " Vicki told him.
    ' He'll come for me , " cried Tony.
    ' Because we're all there is ." Even Mike Celluci had a voice in his head.
    I feel the sun. It's hours to dawn and I feel the sun.
    'Henry?"
    Slowly, he turned. "I'll go to where you saw him last, and try to track him." He had no doubt he would recognize the scent, pick it out of a hundred scents laid across concrete on a November afternoon. And if he found the creature's lair, what then? He didn't know. He didn't want to know.
    Tony sighed. He knew Henry wouldn't let him down. "Can I stay here? Until you come back?"
    Henry nodded and repeated, "Until I come back," as if it were some sort of mantra that would ensure his return.
    'Do you, do you need to eat before you go?"
    He didn't think he could; not eat, not… "No. But thank you."
    Brushing his hair back off his face, Tony managed a shaky grin and the shadow of a shrug. "Hey, it's not like I mind or anything."
    Because he could do no less than this mortal boy, Henry drew up a smile in return. "Good."
    The shrilling of the phone snapped both heads around wearing almost identical expressions of panic. Henry quickly slid a mask in place so that when Tony glanced over at him and asked, "You want me to get it?" he appeared under control and could calmly answer, "No. I'll take care of it."
    He lifted the receiver before the second ring had quite finished sounding, having moved from the window to the phone in the space between one heartbeat and the next. It took him almost as long to find his voice.
    'Hello? Henry?"
    Vicki. No mistaking the tone split equally between worry and annoyance. He didn't know what he'd expected. No, that wasn't true; he knew exactly what he'd expected, he just didn't know why. If Anwar Tawfik decided to contact him, he would not be using the phone.

    'Henry?"
    'Vicki. Hello."
    'Is something wrong?" The words had been given a professional shading that told him she knew something was wrong and he might as well tell her what.
    'Nothing's wrong. Tony's here." Behind him, he heard Tony shift his weight on the couch.
    'What's wrong with Tony ?"
    The obvious conclusion; he should've known she'd jump to it. "He has a problem. But I'm going to take care of it for him. Tonight."
    'What kind of problem?"
    'Just a minute." He covered the mouthpiece, half turned, and raised a questioning eyebrow.
    Tony emphatically shook his head, fingers digging deep into a cushion. "Don't tell her, man. You know what Victory's like; she'll forget she's only human, just charge out there and challenge the guy and the next thing we'll know, she's history."
    Henry nodded. And I am not only human. I am the night. I am Vampire. I want her with me. I don't want to face this creature alone . "Vicki? He doesn't want me to tell you. It's uh, trouble with a man."
    'Oh." He didn't dare read anything into the pause that followed. "Well, I want to spend some time with Mike this evening; fill him in on what we know is happening. Warn him." Again the pause. "If you don't need me…"
    What did she sense? The half lie? His fear? "Will you be here for the dawn?" Regardless of what happened tonight, if he was to have another dawn, he wanted her there for it.
    'I will." It had the sound of a pledge.
    'Then give my regards to the detective."
    Vicki snorted. "Not likely." Her voice softened. "Henry? Be careful." And she was gone.
    A little of the horror lost its effect. It was amazing how much " be careful " could sound like " I love you ." Holding her words-her tone-like a talisman, he went over the location with Tony one more time, shrugged into his coat, and went out into the night. He took dubious comfort in the knowledge that now, at least, he could be sure he wasn't going crazy.
    * * *
    Many of the spells he had spent long years learning would have to be adapted to this new time and place.
    Unfortunately, as he now found himself in a culture that held few things sacred, finding substitutions would not be easy. The ibex had been revered to the extent that sacred had become a pan of its name and that made beak and blood and bone very powerful agents