Blood Lines

sworn himself to a god without grandeur.
    FIND ME!
    'You can rant and rave all you like, Nightwalker. I am not going down there. You're not thinking right now, you're only reacting. Thoughts can be twisted. Reactions, especially from one with your physical power, should be avoided."
    The Nightwalker, he was amused to note, had not grown beyond the possibility of love. How foolish, to love those who were fed upon. Like a mortal declaring himself for a cow or a chicken…
    He took one last look at the burning, brilliant ka that he so desired and then closed his mind to it, removing temptation.
    "We'll straighten things out later," he promised softly. "We have the time, you and I."
    'Graham. What?"
    'Any word on Vicki?"
    Dave Graham raised himself up on his elbow and peered at the illuminated numbers of the clock. "Jesus Christ, Mike,"
    he hissed, "it's two o'clock in the fucking morning.' Can't it wait?"
    'What about Vicki?"
    Curling around the receiver so as not to wake his wife, Dave surrendered. "There's no warrant in the system. No one's got orders to pick her up. They're keeping an eye on her place, but they're watching for you."
    'Then they've already got her."

    'They who? Cantree?"
    'That's who he seems to be using."
    'He?"
    'Never mind."
    Dave sighed. "Look, maybe she's got nothing to do with this. Maybe she just went to Kingston to visit her mother."
    'We were working on the same case."
    'A police case?" Dave took the long silence that followed his question as an answer and sighed again. "Mike, Vicki's not on the force anymore. You're not supposed to do that."
    'Have you talked to Cantree?"
    'Yeah, right after I talked to you this morning."
    'And?"
    'And like I said in my message, nothing's changed. He still wants you. I don't know why. He said it had something to do with internal security, that I wasn't to ask questions, and all would be made clear later on. He's got me doing scut work out in Rexdale."
    'Did he seem strange?"
    'Fuck, Mike, this whole thing is strange. Maybe you should just come in and straighten it out. Cantree'll listen."
    The bark of laughter held little humor. "The only hope the whole city, maybe the whole world has is that I don't get picked up and I don't go anywhere near Frank Can-tree."
    'Right." It was two o'clock in the morning; he had no intention of getting into conspiracy theories. "I'll keep ears and eyes open, but there's not much I can do."
    'Anything you see or hear…"
    'I'll leave a message. Not that I'm likely to see or hear anything out west of God's country, I mean, we're talking Rexdale here. You'd better get going in case they've got a trace on this call… Mike? I was joking. Celluci? Christ…"
    He stared down at the receiver for a moment, then shook his head, hung up and wrapped himself around the soft, warm curves of his wife.
    'Who was that?" she murmured.
    'Celluci."
    'What time is it?"
    'Just after two."
    'Oh, God…" She burrowed deeper under the covers. "They catch him yet?"
    'Not yet."
    'Pity."

    By breakfast, Vicki had regained most of her muscle control; arms and legs moved when and where she wanted them to although the fine-tuning still needed work. Attempting to use her fingers for more than basic gripping of utensils was chancy and stringing more than two or three words together tied her tongue in knots. Thinking beyond her present situation, trying to analyze or plan, continued to wrap her brain in cotton, and thinking about her present situation did no good at all.
    Without her glasses, breakfast was a heap of yellow and brown at the end of a fuzzy tunnel. It tasted pretty much exactly the way it looked.
    She couldn't avoid eating sandwiched between her two cell mates, nor could she miss noticing how the other women on the range steered well clear of them, allowing them to move to the front of the food line as well as claim an entire pitcher of coffee. Natalie's strength combined with Lambert's viciousness placed them firmly on the top of the pecking order. The more coherent of the other inmates regarded Vicki with something close to relief, their expressions proclaiming not so much better you than me as at least when it's you it isn't me .
    Protecting her food as well as herself turned out to be more than Vicki was capable of. Egged on by Lambert, Natalie lifted most of Vicki's breakfast and, under the cover of the rickety picnic table-that tilted alarmingly under every shift in weight-pinched her thigh black and blue. Natalie thought the whole thing