Chapter 6

      Samuel Heims was an educated and rational man. But nothing in his training, not his Ph.D., 
not his years of work, nor his experience, had prepared him for this. He had always laughed at 
UFO freaks, mediums and the Uri Gellers of this world; those who believed in astrology or 
exorcism or even in God, had his deepest contempt. Samuel Heims, a k a Biggy, believed in reason. 
But now, his reason was screaming in protest against what he had seen and perceived. Julian 
Luna’s dark brown eyes had not shifted to green because the light had made them so. They had 
changed entirely - bright and shining as neon lights, illuminated from within - and scared the hell 
out of Biggy. Biggy’s reason jumped up and down like a three-year-old, refusing to acknowledge 
the evidence. But Biggy was sixty-two, and he knew that what he had seen was real, and that he 
hadn’t been supposed to see it at all; not if Julian Luna could have stopped him. And that scared 
him the most. 
     Biggy took his time in getting home. He needed to think. But the more he thought about 
Caitlin’s mysterious boyfriend, the more confused he was. All he could accept, was that Julian Luna 
wasn’t what he pretended to be. Beyond that, Biggy’s common sense refused to venture. In his 
head, he went through everything that Caitlin had told him. Every thing by itself meant nothing, but 
put together, the facts created a picture that was distinctly... non-human. 
     No! His reason made another jolt. He recalled the hour they had spent in the restaurant. 
Julian’s handsome, albeit expressionless face. The impeccable manners. It was Luna who rose first 
when Caitlin got up from her chair, making Biggy follow suit. The low voice, the precise speech, the 
almost indiscernible British accent. Somehow, it seemed out of place. The Italian from the 
Godfather films or a New York Yiddish accent might have suited Julian’s appearance better. Biggy 
shook his head, out of place seemed an accurate description. But out of what place? He remembered 
the feeling of the other man’s hand in his. Perfectly normal, warm skin, no rings, until it had 
changed into an immovable object, until it had pressed his own arm down with no more effort than 
he himself would need in wrestling down his six-year-old grandson. 
     The lights in the building were out, the lift didn’t come. Biggy lived on the fourth floor, he 
walked slowly up the stairs, it had happened often enough before. He had a cigarette lighter for just 
such occasions, and he used it in order to fit his key into the keyhole. His hand groped for the 
switch just inside the door, and, to his satisfaction, the hallway was flooded with light. He exhaled in 
relief and walked in. The door didn’t close behind him. 
     There is no one there, the door is stuck, he thought, but he felt the hair on his neck rise, and 
he knew that he was not alone. He turned slowly; seeing Julian Luna didn’t surprise him at all. The 
young man stepped inside, and the door closed behind him with the familiar thud. Biggy 
remembered Julian’s words before they parted outside the restaurant - you shouldn’t be afraid of 
me... - but he was scared, and he didn’t care if it showed. As Julian walked past him, Biggy looked 
at the door wistfully. 
     "If you run, you’ll die," he heard Julian say, and turned to face him. They looked at each other 
in silence, and then Julian Luna added: "We’re all around you," his voice low and soft as a caress. 
     "What will happen if I don’t run?" Biggy was shaking his head, fighting the mesmerizing 
impact of Julian’s voice. 
     Julian seemed to give the question careful consideration.
     "That depends on what you decide to do," he said at last. 
     "You mean I have options?" Biggy was surprised, and Julian smiled.
     "Oh yes," he answered, "human life is as sacred to us as it is to you, I’d say even more so."
     Biggy inhaled sharply. Julian Luna had just confessed that he wasn’t human.
     "I’m not sure that I want to know, but who are you, or better yet, what are you?" Biggy 
repeated the question that he had posed earlier.
     "I’m one of the Kindred," Julian answered, looking straight at the big man who laughed 
nervously.
     "Well, I’m glad you didn’t say Vulcan," Biggy said, and seeing Julian frown, added, "you 
know, Mr. Spock? On TV?"
     "Oh," Julian smiled. "Caitlin once referred to that... individual. However, I assure you, I’m not 
a fictional character."
     "I wish you were!" Biggy was vehement, and to his total bewilderment, Julian laughed, a very 
human, warm laugh. "You seem rather... human right now," Biggy commented lamely.
     "I used to be human." Julian had stopped laughing. "Please, Mr. Heims, sit down. I’ll tell you 
what I am. By the way, I’d appreciate a drink," he added, "preferably wine." 
     Biggy found a bottle of cheap red wine - he was not a connoisseur - but after Julian tasted it, 
he accepted the offered whiskey. Julian looked at the amber liquid in his glass for a long time, his 
reluctance to talk suddenly apparent. 
     Eventually, Biggy had to prod; his fright abated, he was dying of curiosity.
     "Okay man," he said, "you’ve started it, you might just as well continue. I’m not a shrink, but 
remember, we were the ones who invented the wailing wall." It made Julian laugh again.
     Whatever he is, he’s got a sense of humor, Biggy thought, that can excuse a lot.
     "All Kindred were once human," Julian started.

     It was three a.m. 
     My spooky hour, Biggy thought, if I let you repeat your story on the radio... whew! 
Hollywood next!
     But Julian seemed to follow his line of thought.
     "Whenever the Masquerade was broken," he said, "it always ended in persecution and 
atrocities beyond your imagination. The Kindred were the reason for the invention of burning at the 
stake. We can be killed. If you hurt us, we feel pain, if you cut us, we will bleed."
     The quotation wasn’t literal, but Biggy recognized it immediately. He knew about persecution. 
His memories of the flight from the war-wrecked Europe were dim. He had been too young to be 
fully aware of what was happening, but his perception of the fright of his parents, and the loss of 
security that it had evoked in him, stayed with him permanently. He had never seen his 
grandparents, his aunts and uncles, or his cousins again. A family of more than thirty people - 
vanished. Kindred, he thought. Suddenly, Biggy felt closer to Julian Luna than he had ever felt to 
the rest of humanity. But then he came to think about the one thing that Julian had disclosed that 
Caitlin knew nothing about.
     "The blood," he said, "the drinking of blood." His own words made him shiver. "Doesn’t it 
make you feel like a... a... parasite?" A wave of nausea swept over him. 
     "At least we don’t kill our prey," Julian answered coldly. 
     "Oh!" Biggy reeled back. "I never thought of it that way," he shrugged helplessly. "What 
happens now?" he asked at last.
     But Julian Luna’s answer was also a question:
     "What do you want to happen?"
     "I don’t know what I want," Biggy sounded tired now.
     "What do you think will happen if you start babbling about the creatures of the night on the 
radio?" Julian asked right out.
     "One of two things," Biggy shrugged, "either I will end up in a padded cell with a straight- 
jacket strapped on or you will."
     But Julian shook his head. 
     "You underestimate the gullibility of the human race. Neither of us would end up in a 
straightjacket. Not you, because you have the right to say whatever you wish on your radio, nor I, 
because much more drastic measures are required in order to immobilize me. Believe me, those 
measures will be taken."
     "I don’t want to die," Biggy said after a long moment, "and I don’t want my memory erased 
either, the way you did with Caitlin. And I sure as hell don’t want to become one of you." He 
laughed nervously. "Belonging to one minority is tough enough, let alone two."
     To his relief, Julian smiled at his comment. 
     "I don’t want to kill you and I don’t want to mess with your mind. I didn’t erase Caitlin’s 
memories. I can’t do that. I forced what she saw into her subconscious. It’s still there as a partially 
remembered nightmare. I wouldn’t dare to do it again, lest it might drive her insane. It’s just too 
dangerous. I won’t Embrace you against your wish. It would be like... forcing you to convert."
     "Yeah!" Biggy laughed again. "It wouldn’t be the first time in the history of my people! We 
remember the Spanish Inquisition as well as you do."
     "I know," Julian sighed tiredly. "Tell me, can I risk walking out of here, leaving you with the 
knowledge you possess now?"
     They looked at each other for a long time before Julian added:
     "If I end up the target of a persecution posse, Caitlin might get hurt. In fact, I’m beginning to 
wonder if we shouldn’t separate anyway, before something worse happens." 
     Biggy shook his head.
     "Caitlin loves you as much as you love her. If you give her up, then you have lost anyway. 
You don’t deserve that. But you should be more careful about what you let her see, about what you 
let her know. Or you can tell her the truth. As much as she cares for you, I think she can take it. 
Because if you don’t, well, sooner or later you’ll say or do something that will disclose your true 
nature beyond any doubts she might have, and then it might be too late. I’m not your enemy, I’m 
not even a threat. An old intellectual like me, well, I’m a practical man. I know that if I start going 
around jabbering about vampires, people will start thinking that I’ve gone mad. I don’t want that to 
happen, so your secret is quite safe with me. Besides, I’m quite sure that if I squeal, you wouldn’t 
let me repeat it. Am I right?" He watched Julian intently, and continued after his affirmative nod. 
"So you see, I’ll keep my mouth shut, for Caitlin’s sake, for the sake of keeping my hide intact, and 
for your sake as well." Biggy raised his hands in an appeasing gesture.
     Julian Luna rose slowly to his feet. Placing his hands on the armrests of Biggy’s chair, he 
stared hard into the older man’s eyes.
     "Remember what you have promised tonight," he said at last, "I’ll hold you to that."
     Then he was gone, and Biggy heard the thud of the closing door. Still, it took him several 
minutes before he accepted the fact that he was alone and alive.

     Caitlin sat alone in the library.
     She hadn’t seen Julian since the previous night and she was scared. In spite of a sleepless 
night, she had gone to work today, but had been too tired and too upset to get anything done. She 
went home early, but when she inquired about Julian, the servants told her that he hadn’t been seen 
since the previous evening. She decided to wait for him, and his library seemed to be the right place 
to do it. She curled up in his favorite leather chair, surrounding herself with several books that she 
had taken down from the shelves. But she could not concentrate on reading. Why should telling 
Biggy - the only person she had ever trusted - about Julian be a danger to her lover? What was he 
hiding? What did Biggy see that she didn’t? What was wrong? Because there was no doubt in her 
mind by now that something was terribly wrong. She loved Julian, but she wasn’t sure if she could 
go on living in this perpetual haze of mysteries and frightening riddles. Was it an empty threat, or 
was Julian contemplating a break-up? Why? Caitlin was making herself miserable with all these 
unanswered questions. At last she posed the only question that she knew she should be able to 
answer. 
     Which do I want more, Julian or answers?
     Julian! screamed her body, but her mind craved information. 
     She had tried to get in touch with Biggy several times during the day. His answering machine 
at home gave the same impersonal message every time, at the radio station she was told that he had 
called in the morning telling his colleagues that he would not come in until the next day. Where the 
hell was he? And where was Julian?
     The warmth from the fire and the silence were making her drowsy.
     There was a muffled thud and Caitlin came to with a start. One of the books had fallen from 
her lap, and it was the sound it made hitting the carpeted floor that woke her up. She looked around 
disoriented and it took her several seconds to realize that someone was standing in front of the fire.
     He had heard the book fall, and turned around to face her. 
     "Julian," Caitlin said smiling with relief. But he didn’t smile back. 
     "What do you intend to do next?" he asked harshly, "send the police after me? A bunch of 
scientists?"
     The anger in his voice made Caitlin swallow hard.
     "Julian," she tried to be calm, "I don’t want any harm to come to you. But this is so difficult. It 
feels as if I have walked into an alternate universe. I’m scared. Please, try to understand."
     He continued to stare at her coldly and it scared her even more. She swept the rest of the 
books off her knees and got up from the chair. But she had fallen asleep in an awkward position, 
her legs curled under her. When she tried to take a step, she lost her balance and fell. She cried out 
in surprise, but Julian caught her before she landed on the floor. He lifted her and placed her back 
in the chair, but as he let go of her, she got hold of his sleeves. As she expected, he didn’t try to 
disengage himself from her grasp, bending over her, his face only inches from hers. 
     "Julian," she was whispering now, "please, help me. Help me before I go crazy!"
     Relieved, she saw his face soften. His arms encircled her and he lifted her again. He sat down 
in the chair and made her sit in his lap. He was in deep thought for a long time, but Caitlin was 
happy to be close to him again, his arms around her. At last he sighed heavily. 
     "Caitlin," he started, "what I’m about to tell you, you must never disclose to anyone. Promise 
me that!"
     She was quite prepared to promise anything, and nodded her head vigorously.
     "I promise," she said when his arms hardened around her, demanding verbal consent. 
     "When I was much younger," he talked very slowly, "something happened to me... I was very 
ill for several months. I don’t remember much because of... high fever. But I survived, nobody 
thought I would. Afterwards... I was never sick again, and there were those strange things 
happening: petty injuries, healing in no time; a broken arm, mended within a couple of weeks; no 
scars... the color of my eyes changing when I’m upset; no real need for food; the hearing; the 
sight... the sense of smell, unpleasantly acute. Then I realized that I was stronger than others were. 
Someone died before I knew what I could do with my bare hands. My endurance... Remember, I 
told you once that I’m a good swimmer. It’s perfectly true, I can swim for hours without getting 
tired. If I tried to run a marathon, I’d probably come first, hardly sweating; so I won’t. When we 
make love, it’s the same... The only things that make me tired are pain and the loss of blood, and I 
enjoy getting tired at last. If it became known," he shook his head sadly, "can you imagine what 
would happen if the military or the researchers found out? If they got me in their hands, their 
laboratories?" His hand lifted her face so that he could look into her eyes. "Caitlin, I don’t know 
why this has happened to me, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as a prisoner of so called 
science. I’m already a prisoner of my own body. I have tried to keep as much distance as possible 
between myself and the rest of the world in order to protect my secret. But I have feelings and 
desires like any other creature on this planet. I don’t want to be alone. My power and my wealth 
shield me to a certain extent. But if what I am becomes public knowledge, there’s no amount of 
wealth that will protect me. Can you understand that?"
     "Oh Julian." Caitlin’s eyes filled with tears. "I’m so sorry! I won’t tell anybody again. I 
promise." She hugged him. "Have you ever tried to find out what has happened to you?"
     "NO!" he shook his head with agitation. "I don’t dare to come near a physician. Doctors are 
human. They will keep a secret until there is a chance that what they know will make them immortal. 
That sort of immortality might prove lethal to me. Besides, it’s not like I’m unwell. I don’t need a 
doctor!"
     His last remark made Caitlin smile. 
     "Now I understand what you meant when you said that you were different from other men," 
she laughed, "and I thought you were from outer space. How stupid of me!" She touched his face 
lightly. "You’re too human for that!"
     His grip around her hardened at that moment, threatening her ribs. Caitlin didn’t mind that. 
Her finger traced his lips.
     "You’ve got a scar there," she said, and his hand touched the tiny nick, a half-inch above his 
upper lip.
     "That’s an old one," he said smiling. "I was just a child, my father hit me with the back of his 
hand. He had a signet ring, and it cut me. That was long before I... changed." He looked away, 
realizing that this was the only truthful thing that he had told her.
     Caitlin kissed the scar lightly, but when she kissed his lips, he didn’t respond, so she just 
hugged him and let her head rest on his shoulder. They sat unmoving for a long time, until Caitlin 
whispered:
     "I’ll never betray you, never!"
     I’ll kill you if you do! Julian thought.
     "I know," he said aloud.
     Still, Caitlin slept alone that night too.
     Julian was just too ashamed to make love to Caitlin after he had drowned her in that pile of 
lies. Which didn’t mean that he didn’t want to. There were matters that he should occupy himself 
with, important matters: unrest was brewing among the Clans again and it was his job to make sure 
that the uneasy peace was kept; Sasha’s erratic behavior; new Kindred who had migrated to San 
Francisco from other cities should be welcomed and informed. Some intended to leave; keep track 
of Cameron’s doings; keep track of Frank Kohanek’s devices. No, Lillie and Sonny could do that. 
One thing less to worry about; Samuel Heims had tried to contact him during the day. What did he 
want? Extortion? No, the old reporter was too intelligent for that. But the message had said urgent 
and the Prince could not afford to ignore a human who knew about the Masquerade. He would have 
to seek him out this very night. There was no time for Caitlin right now. He needed to get out and 
feed as well. But all he wanted to do was to go to her. He had sent her off to bed after he had told 
her the heinous story that he had made up in advance, hoping that she would accept it. She had, and 
more than that, she had called him too human! Being aware of her presence in his house, her warm 
body, her willingness to accept him and to love him, made it difficult to concentrate on anything 
else. Anger and fear had made him talk about parting from her, but now he was perfectly aware that 
he could never bring himself to let her go, never!
     He stopped for a second by Caitlin’s bedroom door.
     No, duty first! But for a fleeting moment he resented being the Prince, before turning away 
and heading towards the gatehouse. He had to talk to Daedalus first.

     "Find the man," Daedalus was saying, "find out what he’s after before you decide. If you need 
me, I’ll be there."
     Julian shook his head.
     "I can handle that reporter," he said, "don’t worry about that. I want the Nosferatu to take care 
of the unrest among the Clans. Talk to Cash and Lillie. No, I’ll talk to her. You take Cameron, I 
can’t stand the sight of him. There will be peace in this city no matter what the costs. I need 
someone to watch the Brujah Primogen and Sasha’s not up to it. I need the help of the Nosferatu 
Clan. I need a spy."
     "Cameron knows how close you and I are," Daedalus mused, "but I can find a discontented 
one to do our bidding.
     "Camilla," Julian suggested.
     "Camilla," Daedalus confirmed. "Everybody knows that you killed Goth. What they don’t 
know is that Camilla is more loyal to you than she ever was to her deceased mate."

     Julian had no problem finding Biggy. The reporter was waiting for him in his home. 
     "I bought a bottle of real wine for you," he said, nodding towards one of the more expensive 
Saint-Emilion wines that sat on the table.
     "A bribe?" Julian raised an eyebrow. "I have nothing to sell."
     "It’s supposed to make it worthwhile for you to listen to me." Biggy was not the bribing type.
     "What is it you want, Mr. Heims?" Julian was pressed for time. "What can I do for you?"
     "Funny, you should put it that way," Biggy answered. "You see, I’ve been thinking, and the 
more I think about it, the more tempting it becomes." He smiled noticing Julian’s anxious 
expression. "I think that I would like to be like you, become one of you... Kindred," he added 
unnecessarily.
     "I think I’ll have some of that wine," Julian said. He opened the bottle by hitting its bottom 
with an open hand, forcing the cork out almost an inch, and then removing it without the aid of a 
corkscrew, oblivious of Biggy’s stare of disbelief. 
     "Have you thought about the consequences of an Embrace?" Julian asked at last.
     "I’ve done nothing else for the last day and night." Biggy had indeed done a lot of thinking.
     "Once it’s done, there is no going back," Julian said softly. "You will leave humanity forever. 
Is it really what you want? Your family, your grandchildren, you’ll outlive them, but you’ll have to 
disappear from their life long before that. The last time I saw my son, he was fourteen years old. I 
didn’t contact my family again until after his death, pretending then to be a distant relative of my 
own grandchildren. It was... difficult. It still is."
     Biggy nodded, a wry smile on his face.
     "You don’t have to play the devil’s advocate, I’ve done that already, and believe me, I’m good 
at that, probably much better than you."
     Julian smiled back.
     "Yes," he said, "I can believe that. You remind me of a friend I had."
     "Okay," Biggy was becoming impatient, "can it be done? Can you do it? I’ve made up my 
mind. I want it!"
      "Yes, I can do it. All you have to do is to ask. You have to say I want to be Embraced.
     "Er... I thought you said that there is some law, that the Prince must give permission." Biggy’s 
conviction wasn’t final and Julian sensed it, but he wanted that old man on his side.
     "I’m the Prince," he said simply. "In this city I don’t need anybody’s permission."
     Biggy stared at him for a long moment while Julian pretended to be totally preoccupied with 
the wine in his glass.
     "I want to be Embraced," the old man pronounced each word distinctly, and he saw Julian 
Luna’s eyes shimmer with soft green light over the rim of the glass. 
     "It’s an excellent wine," the Prince said. "Have some before we get down to business." 
     Samuel Heims accepted the proffered glass and drank his last wine as a mortal. It was indeed 
a very good wine, and he regretted that he had never been interested in wines. 
     Well, he thought, I’ll have all the time in the world to remedy that.
     "What happens now?" he asked.
     "I’ll open a vein in your neck, preferably the biggest one I can reach. Otherwise it takes too 
much time. I’ll empty you of all your blood. You’ll lose consciousness long before that. I’ll replace 
your blood with mine. When you wake up, you’ll be Kindred, a Ventrue."
     "Do it!" the old man said.
     Julian Luna, the Prince of San Francisco, sired another Kindred. It happened exactly as he had 
described it to Biggy, except for the few minutes the old man was dead before Julian’s Kindred 
blood revived him. When he opened his eyes again, the world was entirely different to his senses"
     "Stay away from humans today," Julian told him. "Tomorrow night I’ll send someone to lead 
you and teach you. Don’t worry," he added, seeing the expression of disappointment on Biggy’s 
face, "I’m your Sire, I’ll not abandon you."

     Julian had hoped that he could return to the mansion before dawn, but when he came home, it 
was too late to sneak into Caitlin’s bed. He intercepted her in the hallway, as he had done once 
before, only this time she smiled and allowed him to hug her. 
     "A word," he whispered in her ear, and dragged her into the library, away from the prying eyes
of the servants and Arthur’s amused smile. The moment the door closed behind them, he started to 
kiss her and his impatient hands tore at her clothes. 
     "Julian!" She sounded a little scandalized. "I’ll be late for work." 
     "I won’t deduct it from your salary," he mumbled, dragging her down to the floor. His hands 
and lips made her head spin, and her protests were forgotten. 
     "I love you, I need you," he repeated over and over, and his elation spread to her. She was 
trying to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands, but wasn’t very successful, and he had to help her. 
He pressed her against his naked chest, squeezing the breath out of her until she had to stop him, 
afraid that he would crush her.
     "Julian," she murmured softly when he allowed her to get some air. When his hand started a 
slow climb from her knee, she tensed in anticipation and held her breath until his fingers reached 
their goal, making her moan and cling to him. 
     Suddenly he was very still, and then let go of her. She whimpered in disappointment.
     "What is it Julian? What’s wrong?" she asked.
     But he couldn’t tell her that they were no longer alone, that he had sensed another presence in 
the room.
     "Caitlin," he was trying to put her clothes in order awkwardly, "it’s... I... please, forgive me. 
Go to work." He wasn’t looking at her. "I must do something. I’ll see you tonight." The promise in 
his voice made her smile in spite of her bewilderment. She got up, tugging at the hem of her skirt, 
kissed him and left the library. 
     "Daedalus!" Julian was almost shouting, "that was unusually cruel, even for you!"
     "I’m sorry." Daedalus was a picture of serenity. "I didn’t realize... until it was too late, by then 
you knew I was here." He watched the Prince put on his shirt, his hand stroking back his hair in an 
attempt to regain some of his dignity. Daedalus waited patiently.
     "There are matters that demand your attention," he said when he saw that the Prince was calm 
again. "Urgent matters," he added. 
     The grave tone of the Nosferatu’s voice made Julian forget his thwarted desire. Banishing his 
embarrassment, he focused his whole attention on his friend.
     "I’m listening," he said simply. 
     Julian was lost in thought. What Daedalus had told him was grave indeed. This wasn’t a 
discontented Brujah seeking power or revenge. This was much more serious. Someone was moving 
in. Someone was planning to take over. The Nosferatu Primogen had used all his cunning. With the 
help of the Toreador and Gangrel Clans, as well as those Ventrue who were in the right places, he 
was able to piece together the information he had obtained. It wasn’t Cyrus trying to take over the 
state. Julian knew his pitiful plan and he had taken measures to prevent it right after Eddie’s death. 
No, the spies in Los Angeles reported that the same things were happening there as in San 
Francisco: the subtle movements; the crooked paths; the out of state Kindred were coming from all 
over the country. But Julian came to the same conclusion that Daedalus had. Either Florida or New 
York. The Prince of Miami was a Brujah. Judging from the unrest among the Brujah Clan in San 
Francisco, they were just as bewildered by what was going on, as were the other Clans in the city. If 
not Florida, then New York - Servio.
     But Servio, the ancient Prince of New York, was de facto a Ventrue. No matter how old or 
wise he was, if he were to turn on another Ventrue Prince, his own Clan would disown him. It 
didn’t add up. Julian knew that the Ancient detested him, but that could hardly be a reason for the 
all out war that apparently was in full preparation. Had Servio wanted to get rid of Julian, he could 
have had him assassinated quite easily. So what was going on?
     He posed the question to Daedalus, but the Nosferatu was at as much of a loss as he was. 
     "We’ll need information from the source," Daedalus said. "My Clansmen in New York say 
that the city is troubled. The Prince has made too many mistakes lately."
     "Are you telling me that the Kindred of New York are leaving because they don’t trust their 
Prince anymore? And they all end up in California because of the weather, like humans do? I don’t 
buy that!" Julian had not become a Prince by being naive. "Servio is too old to make mistakes; 
unless they are part of a plan. I think we should assume the worst. Servio intends to take over 
California. But why? And how?"
     "Why, I don’t know," Daedalus answered. "Who can say what’s in the mind of an Ancient, 
but it’s easy to guess how."
     "Oh, pray enlighten me!" Julian was trying to hide his discomfort behind a flippant sneer.
     Daedalus was unruffled. 
     "All he has to do is to replace you with a puppet of his own. He doesn’t have to kill you. Just 
undermine your authority, turn the Primogens against you, one by one. Exchange those who are 
loyal to you like Cash or me, promise Lillie something that she wants, maybe even you. Cameron 
will back anything that might help him to get rid of you. Within a few years, or even months, you 
might find yourself an ex-Prince, if you’re still alive, wondering how it happened."
     It sounded so simple when Daedalus described it.
     If I wanted to take over, this is what I would do, Julian thought.
     But Daedalus had fallen quiet, his forehead wrinkling.
     "Oh no," his voice was a fearful whisper, "it can’t be!"
     Julian looked up at his friend’s terror-stricken face.
     "What’s wrong?" he asked.
     "You’re not the primary target, Julian," the Nosferatu answered.
     "Well, I’m glad to hear that." Julian didn’t see where Daedalus was leading.
     "But don’t you see!?" The Nosferatu raised his voice for the first time in decades. "He has 
planned this for centuries. He wants to take over everything, the whole country, he wants to 
subjugate the humans!"
     Julian stared at his friend in disbelief.
     "You are mad," he said at last.
     "No Julian, I’m not mad," Daedalus had his voice under control again, "but Servio is!"
     "But… how can anyone even think about something like this?!" Julian was appalled. "It would 
shatter the Masquerade forever. It would be the end of us all! Taking into consideration the meager 
percentage that the Kindred comprise within the population of the United States, how can Servio 
imagine that he can pull off a thing like that? We would be hunted like the Nazis hunted the Jews, 
and in our case it would be justified."
     "Yes," Daedalus concurred, "it might very well spell the destruction of all Kindred in this 
country."
     "We must do something about it before it’s too late." Julian was pacing in front of the 
fireplace, as was his habit whenever he was upset. "I’ll try to find out how many followers he has 
among other Princes. I need you and the others to do the same with the Primogens in as many cities 
as possible. We need Cameron. Damn it, I wouldn’t put past him the idea of siding with Servio just 
to spite me. Talk to him, Daedalus. If he turns out to be plain stupid, kill him!"
     "Julian!" Daedalus was taken aback. "I can’t do that!"
     "Daedalus, the last thing I need right now is a traitor in my own city." This was the Prince 
talking. "If Cameron lacks the intelligence to understand the danger, or is blinded by his hate, then 
he’s not fit to sit at my Conclave table. If necessary, I’ll wipe out the entire Brujah Clan in San 
Francisco. If necessary, I’ll get humans to help fight Servio!"
     It was Daedalus’ turn to stare at his friend in disbelief.
     "Aren’t you overreacting?" he asked quietly.
     "No, Daedalus," Julian’s voice was equally quiet, "if what you have deduced is true, then 
we’re fighting for the survival of our species."
     Daedalus nodded in acquiescence. 
     As it turned out, Daedalus’ deduction was correct, but Julian’s wasn’t.
     Cameron was neither stupid nor blinded by his hate.
     Cameron hadn’t survived Archon’s hostility by being stupid, nor by underestimating his 
adversaries. In spite of his hate and resentment, he had to admit that Julian Luna was a formidable 
Prince. He had been able to keep the peace among the Kindred for seven years, and as far as 
Cameron knew, only one human knew about the Masquerade, and that one was under the constant 
supervision of Sonny and Lillie. Why Luna was protecting the policeman, Cameron didn’t know, 
but he suspected there was some advantage in the arrangement for Julian. In any case, Frank 
Kohanek wasn’t important right now. It was hard to believe what Daedalus had told him, but 
Cameron saw what was going on in San Francisco. A call to Cyrus confirmed the suspicions of the 
Nosferatu Primogen. Cyrus had been in contact with the Brujah Prince in Miami, who supported 
the Ancient’s crazy plan. The Ventrue slime of New York had gone completely mad. How he could 
believe that his outrageous scheme might work was beyond Cameron’s ability to comprehend. 
Julian Luna and Daedalus were absolutely right. Cameron realized that in view of the present 
danger he would be forced to cooperate with the Prince. He called his Brujah Clansmen to a 
meeting in the midmorning. Surprised, they came. A stupefied silence met his disclosure. 
Somebody laughed nervously.
     "It takes a megalomaniac Ventrue to come up with something like this!"
     "It doesn’t really matter whether he’s Ventrue or not," Cameron retorted. "We would be in the 
same danger if he were a Brujah. I happen to know that a least one Brujah Prince on the East Coast 
supports this deranged plan."
     "So what do we do now?" somebody else asked.
     Cameron cleared his throat. He had never thought that he would have to say to the Brujah Clan 
what he was about to say.
     "In this, we will support our Prince." To his surprise, there were no protests, making him 
realize that Julian Luna had a better reputation among his Clansmen than they cared to admit. 
     Well, they chose him over Archon all those years ago, Cameron thought. No matter how 
harsh he was, he was never unfair. And nobody wants an Ancient to take over: an Ancient who 
intends to destroy the Masquerade. Countless ages of collective Kindred memory wouldn’t allow 
that.
     In contrast to humans, the Kindred memories of what had happened during the centuries 
would not fade away or be denied. Too many survivors were still around. The Brujahs had always 
been the first victims, unprotected as they were by their inability to comply with human laws. The 
Ventrues had their wealth and their aristocratic air; envy was the most common reason for the 
deaths of Ventrues at the hands of humans. The Nosferatus had their wisdom and their ability to 
disappear; their inhuman appearance was the greatest threat to them. The Toreadors were 
considered mad, possessed. In fact, most of the women that had been burned were of the Toreador 
Clan; neither their beauty nor their sex appeal protected them against the fears of mortals. But the 
Gangrels and the Brujahs were the easiest prey, their powers notwithstanding; poorly educated, they 
came mostly from the lower classes and were often destroyed by enraged, superstitious crowds 
when found out.
     No, Cameron wasn’t stupid at all. Right now there was no other alternative but to close ranks, 
forget the animosity between the Clans and protect the Kindred as a whole. He would cooperate 
with the Ventrue Prince of San Francisco. He would even cooperate with the Gangrels.
     He sent out spies to different cities, he even sent a couple to Miami. After ending the meeting, 
he conferred with Cyrus and then went to talk to Daedalus.
     All Primogens had come by noon. They gathered in the library in the mansion. Somehow the 
fact that this meeting didn’t take place in Daedalus’ gatehouse made it more serious. Everybody 
seemed aware of the gravity of the situation. Lillie sat quietly by the fire. She had lived in this 
house. 
     Was she contemplating the turns and twists of fate? Julian was wondering.
     Cash still lived here, although he and Sasha seemed to spend most of their free time away 
from the mansion. Daedalus would come and go as he pleased, sometimes making Julian feel rather 
embarrassed, although he knew that Caitlin would not detect the Nosferatu’s presence. 
     After all, Julian concluded, it was my own fault. Daedalus would never enter Caitlin’s 
bedroom.
     But Cameron had been here only once before. He had been too scared and too tense to notice 
the surroundings then, and looked around now with curiosity. There was an atmosphere of comfort 
and leisure: shelves filled with books and ornaments; beautiful paintings on the walls, a few works 
of art; the fire gave both warmth and a sense of security. It was a room to enjoy. He wondered if 
Caitlin had sat here, maybe sharing long, pleasant evenings with Julian. A flash of jealousy made 
him banish all thoughts of her. He needed to be clearheaded, to regard Julian Luna as an ally, not as 
a rival or foe. Yet, her beautiful face would not leave his mind, now that he was in the house where 
she lived. What if he ran into her? Was she nearby? How could Luna keep his secrets from her? 
How much did she know? 
     The questions whirled in Cameron’s head like wind-driven leaves in the fall. He stood aside 
from the others, wondering if they still resented him. They seemed worried, Cash and Daedalus 
murmuring to each other in hushed voices, Lillie deep in thought. Julian came in, Sonny and a 
couple of his most trusted friends in tow. He invited the Primogens to sit at the table with a nod. 
They all looked at him in silence, and his gaze moved from one face to another. When his eyes met 
Cameron’s, he shook his head at the Brujah’s silent inquiry. Cameron understood; Caitlin wasn’t 
here. Nothing would happen that might embarrass the Brujah Primogen. They needed each other 
now.
     "You have all been informed about what Daedalus and I have found out and the conclusions 
we’ve come to," Julian started directly. "What do you think?"
     They all looked at each other and Cash cleared his throat. All eyes focused on him.
     "The newcomers." Cash had to clear his throat again. "They are mostly Gangrels and Ventrue 
Clan. Few Brujahs. No Toreador as far as I know. My clansmen have followed them this morning. 
They pretend that they don’t know each other and then meet in secluded places. One of my men 
became very suspicious when he saw a Gangrel and a Brujah together. I talked to the Gangrel later. 
He said that he was from Texas; there was nothing wrong with his accent, but his expressions were 
pure New York."
     "How do you know?" Cameron asked.
     Cash made a face but Julian gave him a warning look.
     "I’m sorry," Cash checked himself, "you don’t know that, but I’m from New York." 
     Cameron nodded. He was born and Embraced in California and had never been out of state. 
      "What about that new Brujah?" Julian inquired.
     "I don’t know who you refer to, but as far as I know, twelve newcomers have arrived in San 
Francisco during the last week, which is more than during the last three months." Cameron was 
concentrating. "Two of them have admitted to being from New York, the others say that they come 
from different parts of the country. I’m not able to say if they are lying or not. They keep mostly to 
themselves and, as far as I know, there have been no complaints."
     "Twelve," Julian mused, then turned to Lillie. "What about the Toreador Clan?"
     "Eight," her voice was soft, "all women. All very beautiful women. I was wondering what was 
going on, but now it’s quite obvious. Those Toreador Sirens have been sent to lure the male 
Primogens over to Servio’s plan. And the Prince of course," she added with a malicious smile. 
     They stared at her in disbelief and Daedalus made a derisive snort. But Julian shook his head.
     "The fact that we know about them doesn’t make them less dangerous." He turned to 
Daedalus. "You may believe that you are impervious to the Sirens’ charm, but I know better." He 
withstood the giggles of others. "Be careful!"
     But Cash shrugged his shoulders with contempt.
     "I’m not afraid of them. Sasha..."
     "Sasha can’t protect you," Julian interrupted him, "or rather, your love for her won’t protect 
you. Believe me!" His gaze turned to Cameron. "Loving another woman is no safeguard against a 
Siren. You know that as well as I do."
     Cameron stared back at him defiantly, but there was no malice on Julian’s face. He was 
absolutely serious. He turned to Lillie again. 
     "We need your advice, Lillie."
     She looked up and smiled seductively, her eyes moving from one man to the next, flashing a 
special promise to each of them. They all felt the impact of her temptation and squirmed restlessly. 
Even Daedalus.
     "Avoid eye contact," she was saying. Her fingers touched Cameron’s hand and he recoiled as 
if burnt. "Don’t let them touch you." She leaned towards Cash, her face only inches from his. 
"Keep your distance." Cash shook his head in surprise.
     She got up and moved to Daedalus. Before he realized what she intended to do, her arms 
closed around his neck and she kissed him on the mouth. The Nosferatu took hold of her shoulders 
and moved her slowly away. Very slowly. She looked at him smiling.
     "No Daedalus," there was triumph in her voice, "you’re not impervious. Don’t let a Toreador 
Siren come near you."
     At last she turned to Julian and he tried to steel himself, but she only flashed him a shining 
white glance and laughed at his discomfort.
     "Women are your weakness, my Prince. Sirens or not. The Ancient knows that. I suspect that 
those Toreador women were sent here for your sake. Take care!"
     Julian and Daedalus were alone again.
     More than two hundred Kindred had come to San Francisco during recent weeks, most of 
them Ventrue or Gangrel, but only four Nosferatu. Daedalus was sure all four were Servio’s men. 
The Nosferatu lived outside human society and did not migrate much. 
     "Not much of an invasion force," Julian commented.
     "They aren’t here to invade," Daedalus answered, "they are here to subvert. Imagine what it 
would take to make any one of the five of us into a turncoat. Let’s think about it. Start with 
Cameron."
     "That one is easy," Julian shrugged. "If he believes that Servio’s plan has any chance of 
succeeding, all he needs is a promise of getting my job." 
     Daedalus nodded. 
     "Your job and your woman, don’t forget."
     Julian gave the Nosferatu a side-glance.
     "He may have my job if it comes to that, but he’ll never have Caitlin and he knows that. What 
about Cash?"
     "You seem to trust him," Daedalus said, "but how sure are you? After all, he is from New 
York."
     "If he’s not a spy for Servio, and I don’t think he is, he’s loyal to me. He has lived in San 
Francisco for years, and Stevie was his closest friend. He loves Sasha and he cares for me. I think 
we can trust him, at least for now," Julian defended his bodyguard. "He was devastated when he 
thought that Eddie had killed me."
     Daedalus winced at the memory. Lillie had come to his cellar in the gatehouse and told him 
that Eddie Fiori had murdered Julian, and that she had helped the Brujah killer. Lillie had preferred 
to see the man she loved dead than belonging to somebody else. Lillie was dangerous.
     "Lillie," Daedalus said. "A Toreador can never be trusted; Lillie has proved that already."
     "Lillie has redeemed her crime." Julian didn’t like what he was hearing. "But can we trust her? 
I don’t know." 
     "Lillie wants you back." There was no doubt in Daedalus’ voice. "If you let her believe that 
there is a chance in the future that she might have you back, you’ll be safe. But if she believes that 
she has lost you forever, no one can tell what she may do. Also, as I told you before, if Servio 
promises her that she’ll get you as spoils of victory..."
     "That’s impossible!" Julian couldn’t imagine being chattel, to be used or given to someone, 
but Daedalus continued unruffled.
     "It’s not what she can get, just what she may think she can get. It would be wise of you to 
show her kindness."
     "I never thought of you as a pimp, Daedalus," Julian was joking, but he felt ill at ease.
     "We need her!" Daedalus wouldn’t be swayed. "Use the influence you have over her. The 
human woman..." Daedalus stopped when he saw Julian’s eyes change. "You have to get her out of 
the way."
     "No!" Julian rose abruptly, "I won’t give her up!"
     "I’m not asking you to." Daedalus was thinking fast. "But she has been hurt once already. If 
she stays here, she’ll get in the way, she’ll see things... You might not be able to protect her."
     Daedalus was right and Julian knew that. He should pretend that he no longer loved her and 
break off their relationship. But he could not bring himself to do that. It would break her heart. 
Besides, he wasn’t such a good actor, that he could lie to her convincingly about his feelings.
     "Daedalus," he said at last, "I’ll get her out of the mansion, maybe even out of San Francisco, 
but I can’t give her up. I’d rather face the final death. What about us?"
     "Us?"
     "You and me, Daedalus. Can we trust each other? Can we trust ourselves?"
     Daedalus smiled.
     "Servio can’t buy me. He has nothing to bargain with. His plan is madness; I’ll never believe 
otherwise. I think there are very few of the Nosferatu Clan who are on his side. We seldom suffer 
from mania grandiosa." His smile became sad. "It’s a Ventrue trait." 
     "That’s true," Julian nodded, "I hope I’ll never fall into that trap."
     "I won’t let you," the Nosferatu was still smiling, "but Lillie was right. Your weakness lies in... 
another direction."
     It made Julian laugh.
     "The powers of the Toreador Sirens are overrated. I speak from experience. Wanting a woman 
can’t make me a political idiot."
     "No, but it can distract you." Daedalus was talking from his experience of the Prince.
     "Uhm..." Julian wasn’t trying to hide his annoyance. "Let’s forget the past. There’s Caitlin. I 
think I can keep the others at arm’s length. I’m not such a hopeless slave of my own desires as you 
seem to believe." Then he changed the subject disregarding the Nosferatu’s doubtful look. 
"According to Cameron, Cyrus is on our side. I sincerely hope that it’s true."
     "My people in Los Angeles confirm that," Daedalus answered. "I will know more by the end 
of the day. Also about the Nosferatu in other states. But you must contact all the Ventrue Princes in 
the west."
     Julian thought for a moment.
     "I’ll start with Stephen. I have a discrete way to get to him without raising any suspicions. It 
will allow me to take care of another matter at the same time, and it will look equally natural."
     "Caitlin, would you like to visit your father again?" Julian had come to her office in the middle 
of her working day. 
     That was a poor excuse, she thought smiling as she watched him close the door. However, he 
didn’t lock it. But she was still thinking of their interrupted lovemaking in the morning, and didn’t 
take his question seriously. 
     "Are you sure that’s what you want me to do," she asked suggestively, "send me off to my 
father?" She got up and saw that he was thinking the same thing as she walked towards him. But he 
prevented her from hugging him by taking her hands.
     "I have to go to Seattle immediately," he said. "I had hoped that you’d want to come with me."
     "You mean right now?" She realized that he wasn’t joking.
     "Yes, the plane is waiting. There is someone I have to see tonight. Please, come with me."
     Caitlin hesitated only a moment. The plea in his eyes made her decide.
     "Let’s go!" she said.
     He held her in his arms on the plane, but she interpreted his clinging as the fear of flying.
     "Don’t worry," she was mumbling in his ear, "I can protect you."
     No, you can’t, Julian thought, but I hope that I can protect you.
     Two cars were waiting for them at the airport.
     "I have to go to the meeting," Julian answered the questioning look she gave him. "I’ll come 
out to your father’s house as soon as I can."
     She watched him go, surprised that he still seemed tense and frightened even though he was 
on the ground.
     Julian Luna didn’t have the faintest idea how his message had been conveyed to the Prince of 
Seattle, but he was expected. Stephen was the closest thing to an older brother that Julian had ever 
had. He hoped that it would never change. Of course, they weren’t brothers. In fact they looked 
totally different. Stephen was very tall and thin. His hair was very light, his eyes pale blue, almost 
colorless, his skin as transparent as that of a Nosferatu. He had been Embraced by Archon only a 
few years before Julian, but he was about ten years older then and their age difference always 
showed. They looked at each other for a long time without saying anything and then hugged.
     "Ten years!" Stephen said at last. "Is this the way to treat your blood brother?"
     "I could say the same," Julian retorted.
     "True," Stephen winked, "but I haven’t been running in your woods chasing mortal women 
and killing jealous humans that shoot at me, have I?"
     "Oh!" Julian was taken aback. "How did you know about that?"
     "Julian!" Stephen was insulted. "If I had done in San Francisco what you did here, wouldn’t 
you know?"
     The question did not require an answer. Julian told his friend what really transpired in the 
woods and Stephen made a wry face.
     "Did you really have to kill him? After all, he just tried to scare you off."
     "He could have shot Caitlin!" Julian could still feel the rage that had overwhelmed him that 
morning. "That bullet in my leg, it hit me just inches away from her body."
     "Well, well," Stephen was smiling, "who would have believed that in the old days. Julian Luna, 
the horror of all men with beautiful wives or daughters, now the defender of ladies."
     Stephen had always enjoyed teasing him about his inability to resist a pretty face, but Julian 
had not come to Seattle to discuss his love affairs, past or present.
     "Stephen, it’s not that I want to change the subject, which I do, but something is happening, 
something much more sinister than we have ever faced before."
     "Yes, I figured that you haven’t come to me to seek my advice in the matters of the heart," 
Stephen’s good-natured smile was gone. "Are you telling me that whatever is going on here, is 
happening in San Francisco as well?"
     "Not only there!" Julian told his blood brother what he knew. As he had expected, Stephen 
was horrified. 
     "You can’t be serious!" he exclaimed. "But you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t." Stephen 
had a habit of answering himself.
     "You’re rather isolated here in the north," Julian said, "but this scheme extends all over the 
country. Maybe even further. Do you have any contact with the Kindred across the border?"
     "Yes, we have connections in Vancouver, it’s next door." As usual, Stephen continued Julian’s 
line of thinking. "I’ll find out if they are involved in any way. Meanwhile, we have to act here. 
You’re closer to the center of what’s going on. You’re also the most powerful Prince on the West 
Coast. Servio must go after you first."
     Julian sighed heavily.
     "He hates me, why, I can only guess. I can’t go around pretending that I have bought this 
crazy idea of his, he’ll never believe that." He looked up at his blood brother. "But we need an 
infiltrator, someone Servio would trust... someone like you."
     Stephen’s pale blue eyes darkened considerably, becoming flashing sapphires.
     "I don’t like it," he said. "Can’t you find someone else?"
     "Who else can I trust?" Julian retorted bitterly. "The Brujah from Los Angeles? The petty 
chiefs in the Midwest, quarreling among themselves over absurdities. The Prince of Chicago..."
     "The Prince of Chicago is a Gangrel, unlikely as it seems. He’ll always go his own way." 
     Stephen was pondering over Julian’s idea. 
     "I’ll try to do what you ask of me. It won’t be easy. I’ll talk to my people and I’ll find out 
about Canada. We’ll need to keep in constant touch."
     "Don’t worry about that part." Julian was relieved over Stephen’s consent. "You have your 
Nosferatu and I have mine. They will help to keep the connection unbroken. As for the Gangrel in 
Chicago, I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to as many Princes as I can manage to reach before Servio finds 
out that I know. Because when he does, my life won’t be worth a drop of blood."
     "You’re right," Stephen concurred. "You’ll have to hide, you’ll have to run, and you’ll have to 
fight. What about that human woman of yours?"
     Julian shrugged.
     "I’ve sent her off. She’s become a... distraction."
     Stephen shook his head smiling.
     "Do you want to know why Servio can’t stand you?" he asked and continued without waiting 
for a response. "He thinks you’re vain." He laughed at Julian’s surprised stare. 
     "That pompous old..." Julian was at a loss. "He should talk about vanity!"
     "We all have our weaknesses," Stephen was laughing, "and I’m afraid you’re his."
     "Now you’ve lost me."
     "Come, come, Julian," Stephen was still laughing, "you’re surely aware that there are men, 
Kindred and mortal, who envy you? You’ve got it all. Power, wealth and any woman you want. And 
Servio is old, gray and uglier than the ugliest Nosferatu. He hates your guts because he wants to be 
you. You should remember that when you deal with men, Kindred or humans."
     It made Julian frown. Stephen might be right. Whenever there was trouble, it was always over 
something that was in Julian’s possession in some way: Eddie wanted to be Prince; Cameron 
wanted Caitlin; Caitlin wanted his past; Cyrus wanted power. Lillie wanted... him. 
     "In my next life I want to be an hermit," he told Stephen before they parted.

     He was starting to feel restless.
     When he opened the door, for a split second he thought that it was one of the neighbors 
wanting to borrow something or seeking help. She looked so... ordinary. But his senses told him 
immediately that his first impression was misleading.
     "My name is Mary," she informed him. "I’m your blood sister."
     "Hi," Biggy answered. He backed away from the door, inviting her in with a gesture. She 
nodded and followed him inside and he looked her over. She was very tall and rather stout. There 
was a lot of gray in her brown hair. Her eyes were a striking blue and her skin very fair. She wore a 
brown inconspicuous suit and carried a matching bag, the sort that many middle-aged women carry. 
In fact, Biggy concluded, she looked every bit as a woman around fifty should look.
     Biggy had stayed at home after his Embrace, as Julian Luna had told him to do. He had spent 
the day finding out and experimenting with his new abilities. He broke several things trying to 
measure the increase in his strength, but was unable to repeat Julian’s trick with the wine bottle. 
Apparently, it required more technique than muscle. He managed to break the bottle to pieces, 
cutting his hand in the process, and than watching with fascination as the cuts disappeared within a 
couple of minutes. He had felt no hunger during the day, but due to habit he had taken the food out 
of the fridge at the appropriate time, finding that the mere sight of it made him retch, especially the 
meat. He threw the food into the garbage can, but its smell made him retrieve it and flush it down 
the toilet. The milk went the same way. Other liquids, the ones that didn’t originate from animals, 
were still interesting. The Coca-Cola tasted as it used to, but alcohol had no effect on him anymore, 
and his addiction to coffee had diminished considerably. By the late evening he began to feel... 
strange. He didn’t feel sick, but the initial discomfort slowly turned into sharp pains that tore at his 
insides with dreadful reality.
     What’s happening to me? Biggy wondered with rising fear. 
     Mary looked at him appraisingly.
     "You are hungry. I’ll teach you to feed properly," she said. "Come with me."
     Samuel Heims, the newly created Kindred, followed her into the night.
     Mary found the right victims, showing Biggy how to render a human unconscious effectively, 
how to open a suitable vein or artery. 
     "Stay away from the arteries in the beginning," she warned him, "or you may kill your prey. 
You don’t want that to happen, do you?"
     Biggy shook his head. He watched her wide-eyed. Biggy had a secret weakness: the sight of 
blood has always made him feel queasy. But now, the very scent of it was more tempting than 
anything he had ever smelled before. Yesterday, the very thought of drinking human blood would 
have made him recoil in terror and disgust, but now he gulped it down gratefully, and Mary had to 
stop him before he drank too much.
     "Never take more than a person can afford to lose," she admonished him. "A big man like 
yourself can part with a pint of blood and won’t notice. If you feed from a small woman, take less. 
And remember, never feed from children. If you do and we find out, you’ll be killed."
     "No, no, of course not," Biggy agreed, "but how do I know how much blood I’ve taken."
     "You count," she answered laughing. "When we get back, you can drink a pint of water and 
count how many gulps it takes. If you feed regularly - I mean every night - that’s more than you 
need. If you feed every second or third night, you’ll require more each time. Don’t let the hunger 
become too strong, you’re liable to harm or even kill your prey." 
     They returned to Biggy’s home before dawn, and Mary told him to get some sleep.
     "Later, during the day, you can go about your business as usual," she said. "I’ll come back in 
the evening and teach you other things." She took her bag preparing to leave, but stopped before 
opening the door. "Be careful, Sam, your senses and your strength exceed those of mortals, you 
must avoid disclosing your abilities to humans. The Masquerade must be protected."
     "Please, call me Biggy, everyone else does," he said. "I promise to be careful." After a 
thoughtful moment he continued, "Julian Luna, will I meet him again?"
     "The Prince is your Sire," Mary answered. "He will introduce you to our Clan when the time 
is ripe, when I’ve taught you all you need to know," she added. "I believe he has plans for you. Rest 
now."
     She left him alone, and Biggy decided to heed her advice and went to bed. 

     Julian was happy to see that the Nosferatu Primogen was there. The darkened glass hid him 
from the curious looks of people who passed by. He sat in the back seat waiting patiently for the 
Prince. 
     "You didn’t have to come with me all the way to Seattle," Julian told his friend, "but I’m glad 
you’re here. Stephen has agreed to our plan." 
     "I thought he would," Daedalus nodded, "there’s hardly anyone else who might pull this thing 
off. I came here because you need me. Your life is threatened. You’ll have to put up with my 
presence all the time from now on."
     "Aren’t you exaggerating somewhat?" Julian wished desperately for some normalcy.
     "Julian!" Daedalus sounded equally desperate. "There have been more attempts on your life 
during the recent year than during the previous seven while you’ve been the Prince. Doesn’t that 
tell you something?" 
     "What do you mean? What are you trying to tell me?" Julian sounded tired.
     "Look, this is not the Roman Empire," the Nosferatu continued, "you don’t gain power by 
assassinating your predecessor. Eddie Fiori was stupid enough to believe that he could rule without 
the support of the Primogens. You know as well as I do that he would have been dead within a 
couple of months, maybe sooner, if he had succeeded in replacing you. He was a pawn, and so was 
Cyrus. It’s your integrity that’s the pivotal point. Servio knows that you’ll never support him, 
therefore he’s got to get rid of you."
     "I see your point," Julian answered. "I must make sure that no one can get to me from now 
on."
     Daedalus nodded with satisfaction.
     "What about Caitlin?" he asked.
     "She stays here," Julian sighed again. "I told Stephen that she’s history. I don’t know why I 
lied to him. If this goes on for much longer I’ll start mistrusting everybody, even you and myself."
     The car turned into a dark road outside the city and Daedalus looked up.
     "Aren’t we going to the airport? There’s precious little time," he said.
     "Have mercy, Daedalus, I need to see her, to tell her..."
     "What will you tell her?" the Nosferatu interrupted him.
     "I don’t know," Julian answered, "I must convince her to stay here, that’s all I know."
     They fell silent, each contemplating his own thoughts.
     So much had happened during the last few days. Julian was thinking about Samuel Heims 
Biggy, he corrected himself. The old reporter might become a formidable asset in time. That is, if 
any of them lived long enough to... Julian chased away his thoughts of defeat. He would fight, and 
if he were to lose, he would go down fighting.
     The car stopped outside the house. The lights were still on although it was almost midnight. 
Caitlin let him in and he enclosed her in his arms. But he curbed his impatience when the old Byrne 
came to greet him. Julian would need his collaboration. He refused the food but agreed to have tea 
and a glass of wine with Caitlin’s father. She sat close to him, her hand in his. No matter how hard 
he tried, he couldn’t hide how upset he was from her.
     "What is it Julian? What’s wrong?" she asked as soon as they were alone, unaware that she 
was posing the same questions as she had done in the morning. 
     "Business problems." He tried to smile. "Help me forget them for now."
     She smiled back and did as she was told, putting her arms around him. 
     He was trying so hard to be gentle, failing miserably. Backing off momentarily whenever she 
made a protesting sound or motion. But he couldn’t hold back, neither would she let him, her body 
challenging his power of control. He knew that he was hurting her again and that she didn’t mind, 
his futile attempts to hold back exciting her even more. He gave in eventually, heeding her whispers 
that urged him to love her. Oblivious of both the pain and the pleasure he caused, driven only by his 
own passion, conscious only of her complying body and the sweetness of the pleasure it gave him. 
A spear of irresistible ecstasy shooting up his spine with every thrust he made, the pleasure so 
extreme that it bordered on pain, becoming almost unbearable, and then exploding the world into 
whirling fragments of the final release.
     They were resting. There wasn’t enough space for them to lie side by side. Caitlin’s head on 
his arm, her shoulders against his chest, she was playing with his hand, entwining her fingers in his. 
He crouched a little, their bodies not touching all the way, his other hand pressed between them, a 
protection, preventing her from knowing that he still wanted her, that one release had not been 
enough. But there was no more time. He had to go, leave her behind. He was thinking desperately 
of ways to get away without her noticing his condition, of something to tell her. In vain. She turned 
suddenly and he reacted automatically, taking hold of her, lest she would fall off the narrow bed. 
She knew then, his desire hard against her belly, and she pressed against him in welcoming 
response. No, he could not leave, not yet. Let the rest of the world go to hell! 

     As Daedalus had predicted, the Prince allowed himself to be distracted by his desire. But 
being aware of that weakness didn’t spoil the pleasure at all. Afterwards, he made her fall asleep by 
simply pretending that he was sleeping. He made his breathing slow and deep, relaxing all muscles, 
and sure enough, within minutes Caitlin followed suit.
     Julian opened the window, forgetful of where he was. The cold wind blew some snow in his 
face. The ground was still bare, but it would probably be covered with a white carpet of the starting 
winter in the morning. He was miserable and exposing himself to the chilly air didn’t make him feel 
any better. He closed the window after a short moment, the cold was only a discomfort to him, but it 
might make Caitlin sick. He turned towards the sleeping woman. The narrow bed was almost too 
small for her. How they had been able to fit into it together was a mystery, and thinking about it 
made Julian smile. He sat on the edge and touched her face lightly, suddenly envious, wishing that 
he could sleep like that. He was thinking of the few times he had allowed himself to fall asleep in 
her presence, or in the presence of any human for that matter. He had pretended to sleep in her arms 
often enough, but knowing what would happen if he were to really fall asleep had kept him alert: his 
breathing would cease; his heartbeat become almost non-existent; his body temperature would fall 
until it reached the level of the surroundings. Too dangerous to let it happen when a human was 
around. He remembered the exhaustion that had overcome him in this very room all those months 
ago. He had made sure that Caitlin wouldn’t wake before he allowed himself the luxury of sleep, 
her warm body pressed close against his. 
     All he wanted to do right now was to nestle down next to her, and stay forever in this bed that 
was too short and too narrow for him. 
     Will I ever see you again, Caitlin? he wondered. He kissed her lips softly, not wanting to 
wake her, and got up. She smiled and whispered his name and he felt a painful cramp inside his 
chest. It made him frown. Was he the first Kindred to suffer from a heart attack? Then he realized 
that he was experiencing a very human reaction, a physical sensation of heartache. He left her room 
quickly. 
     It was long past midnight. The car was waiting for him outside, but he decided to wake 
Caitlin’s father. The old man looked at him with surprise.
     "What’s wrong?" he asked after a quick glance at the alarm clock.
     "I have to go back to San Francisco," Julian answered. "I left a note for Caitlin, but I need 
your help. It’s imperative that she stays here. Do all you can to prevent her from following me. 
Pretend to be sick if necessary."
     James Byrne sat up in his bed.
     "What the hell is going on? Don’t you have the guts to tell her that you’re leaving her?" The 
anger and contempt in the old man’s voice were apparent. But Julian shook his head.
     "If I wake her... She will talk me into taking her with me. I can’t let it happen. I can’t..." He 
fell silent for a few seconds. "Mr. Byrne... James, my life is in danger. This is the safest place I 
could think of... for her. Anyone close to me will be endangered. It breaks my heart to part with 
Caitlin," right now it felt like literal truth, "but if I’m lucky it will only be temporary. Please, help 
me, keep her here at any cost."
     The urgency in Julian’s voice frightened the old man.
     "What have you done?" he asked.
     "Let’s say I’ve taken sides." Julian could hardly tell him what was really going on, but 
Caitlin’s father eyed him suspiciously. 
     "Oh, so whose side are you on?"
     "I’ve chosen to stand on the side of the human race," Julian answered solemnly, "that’s all I 
can tell you. I’m not a criminal. But even if you don’t believe me, keep Caitlin here, for her own 
sake, if not for me."
     "I believe you," Byrne said. "I’ll make her stay." He got out of bed and followed Julian out in 
spite of the cold and snow. "Don’t get yourself killed, you hear!" he told Julian as they shook 
hands. 
     The old astronomer was as good as his word. Caitlin stayed in her father’s house, amidst the 
snow-covered woods outside Seattle.
 

Back
Next