S E V E N

There are a couple of things I should get down here while I'm hashing over stuff.

I was committed to Tasia from the first night. There was never any question of my going back to that shack I shared with Danny Miller. It was as though all the choices that might have involved some kind of existence without her had then and forever been completely suspended. Period.

Still, one of the first things I wanted to know about was Touraine and Rex. I described what had happened and asked Tasia if she knew anything. She told me she didn't. I got the impression I had asked a stupid question and, honestly, I felt stupid asking her. It was like, when you're traveling out-of-state and folks find out you're from New York City and they have a cousin who visited once for a week or a sister who works in Queens or an old school buddy who got mugged on the subway. "Do you know so-and-so?" they ask.

Sorry. No.

So even then it seemed stupid to expect Tasia to know some vampire who had got himself wasted in some nameless, dockside alley.

"It's not unusual for a Blood to take on the role of executioner or assassin," Tasia told me. "But I wonder how your Mr. Frank could have contracted with him? I would guess it was more a game for Touraine, Tony. Many of our kind travel to your lands."

"Why?"

She shrugged, dismissive. "Why does anyone travel?"

"To learn? Business?"

"Yes, all of that. To amuse." Tasia smiled at me. She had a way of smiling and showing a hint of teeth that wasn't too startling — unless you fell into the heart-stopping beauty of her.

"So you think Touraine is really dead now?"

"I do."

"What about Rex?"

She laughed. "What about him?"

"I don't think he was a vampire. I mean, Blood."

"Perhaps not. Perhaps he was only a rogue fae. Or an elf." Tasia made a face. "They could have been slumming - on their way to a Hunt. You said the moon was full."

I struggled to take all that in. Like I told Errol, I've always had an easy way with languages. Tasia was speaking English but it might as well have been French (and not the kind I was used to). Her answers weren't answers to me. Most times, I didn't get half of what she was saying and this wasn't any different. Elves, Hunt? I was thinking. I got the part about slumming.

Tasia laughed again but she wasn't making fun of me. "You look so bewildered."

"I can't believe any of this is happening."

"Why not, love?"

"Because I'm happy." I stammered it out without thinking and then blushed redder than my hair.

"It's all right." Tasia stopped and took my hands in hers. By now, this was a familiar gesture. We had been strolling along the empty city streets that night. Cities were my environment of choice. Hers, too, it seemed. Well, you'll never find many Blood in the country. That's for sure.

The day people had given way to those of the night. This little metropolis was very different from sundown in New York. Violins, the piercing reed of the zourna, bouzouki music drifted all around us. We had deliberately strayed out of the tourist area. This was the kind of music the natives played for themselves, not just for show. It was wild and weird and full of magick.

"It's all right to be happy now," Tasia was saying, her green eyes glowing in the dark — so like mine. "Don't worry about these things. I will teach you everything you need to know. I will take care of you. I will keep you safe."

I never thought to ask — Safe from what? Her determination was riveting. Intoxicating. Like being drunk without the hangover effects. I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything, just put my arms around her and held her satin-ice body to mine. Felt it accept the heat from mine until we were warm together. Her heart began to beat with my rhythm, her mouth was shared flame. The salt wind lifted our hair and snarled it together, spinning a web of blood and moonlight.

There was never any rush with Tasia, no awkward moments, no urgent fumbles. Bliss was always near, an invisible companion — never ending, ever beginning. Darkness had always been with me, it had been my whole life. Tasia blazed like a single candle in the night, my personal refuge — all the passion I had never known and never allowed myself to feel. She was all my trust, all my joy. And it could never end.

That's what she told me.

"Elves?" I said, as we drew apart. "So now you're telling me there's elves? Like with Santa Claus and all that?"

"No...." I sensed her striving for answers, for a way to begin. "First of all, they don't like to be called elves or fairies."

"Me either. Screw the history lesson, Tasia. Let's dance."

We went into the bar and did that. Had a great time.

But that morning, I dreamed about Rex again.

It seemed as though I woke up, laying beside Tasia in our bed, and there he was. He was dressed different from that time at Sharkey's, more casual, but still sporting the yellow earring. Lynx eyes glowed in the darkened room.

"Your name isn't really Rex," I said.

"That's right." He was grinning again. "There's power in names. They shouldn't be tossed around carelessly."

"I'm dreaming you again, right?"

"Right." He reached down and picked me up out of the bed. Tasia didn't even stir so that's how I knew it wasn't really happening. Rex walked out of the room, carrying me with him. I took it in, dazed with unfinished sleep.

"Touraine was wrong, you know," Rex said. "You're more a 'Firehair' than a common 'Red.'"

"Yeah, right. Where are we going?" I asked.

"What difference does it make? You're dreaming, remember?"

"The last time I dreamed you, I was sick for months."

"But you got better."

"I guess," I said and shut up. Let him do the walking.

He set me on my feet once we got to the beach and we proceeded to cruise along the shoreline. It was early morning. The sun had just come up, but the sand was still warm from the day before. The waves crashed in over our feet and ankles while we walked. Rex didn't say anything and neither did I.

It was fantastic being outside in the sunlight. I hadn't been out during the day in a long, long time. Not for weeks, I think. Everything was so vivid and lush, like it usually is in a good dream — and, as I was discovering, when you were in love. But this was something I could never share with Tasia and it made me sad.

Eventually, Rex stripped down, letting his clothes fall where they would and dove into the surf. I followed after, although I didn't have to bother with stripping. We swam out in the ocean for a long time, sometimes splashing and playing with each other, but mostly just tangling with the water. I went up on the sand after a while and crashed out. When I woke up again, the sun was high overhead. My skin was pink beneath the brown and felt stretched tight. I stared, amazed. How had I lost so much tan that I could burn like this?

Nearby movement caught my attention and I looked around to find Rex laying beside me. I couldn't read anything out of his strange, eldritch face, but I understood what was expected and reached out for him.

He came into my arms willingly enough and we went through the movements, lips to lips, hands to hips, searching, caressing. A sigh here, a moan there. This ritual had been a part of my life for so long. Servers in the temple of flesh. Head held — so! A hand cupped — there! Eyelids lowered, never completely closed. Now arch the throat. Touch the back. Press here.

The sounds of the sea and earth went away. Like always. Didn't feel hot anymore. Didn't feel cold. Didn't feel.

Rex's hand closed on my shoulder and tightened. I looked up at him, raising my head from between his legs.

"What's the problem?" I asked, eager to get on with it. No - determined to finish. "I used to be paid major bucks for this back in the City."

Yellow eyes glittered back at me, stark sunlight. "Yes," he said. "I know."

He had a gift for lead pipes, the kind like you hold in your fists and the kind that comes out of mouths and eyes. Looking up into those eyes was like falling into fire. They burned me with knowing.

I looked until I couldn't do that anymore, till the water in my eyes blinded me as it had in the surf. But the tears couldn't wash away the shame, couldn't wash away the loss.

I moved away from Rex, rolled in on myself, bringing my knees up to my face, wrapping my arms around them, tight — tight! After a while, I felt Rex touch me again, comforting-like he had that time before. I jerked away from him.

It wasn't his pain to share. That belonged to me. It was all they'd ever left me. I would not give it up to him.

When I finished crying, I knuckled the water out of my eyes. Quick-dipped into the sea to clean off. Rex sat on the sand watching.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Hot." My stomach rumbled loud enough for us both to hear. "Hungry."

"Then let's go." Rex got up and took off for the woods. I followed after. He wasn't bothering with clothes so I tried to make myself think I was still dreaming — but, frankly, I was beginning to have serious doubts.

Especially after we found the feast. Rex sat himself down like he expected nothing less — and I'm sure he didn't. But I tripped to a halt on the edge of that little wooded clearing and gawked. It was the picnic to end all picnics, the banquet of banquets. All you could eat, too. Roasted lamb revolved over a pit, platters of pork and chicken were piled nearby. There were rounds of cheese, baskets of fresh bread, more kinds of fruit and berries and honey than I could imagine possible. There was wine, too, great clay jugs of it. And the attendants — merrymakers, party-goers — no two of them were alike but I saw a lot of pointed ears. Saw a lot of glowing, almond-shaped eyes — some like slits, some like miniature, freefall moons.

I said, "This isn't a dream, is it?"

Rex shook his head, still serious.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"To live the day again, mortal. Soon, for you, there will be only midnight."

That stark concept rocked me back a step or two, mentally if not physically. I hadn't actually thought about that. But I asked instead, "Does Tasia know about this little party?"

"No. But she will learn of it. Before you ask, yes — she'll be angry. But not with you."

"Then what's the deal?"

"There should be peace between your kind and mine."

"You're at war — the Blood and the Elves?"

"No, no — don't alarm yourself. Just be one with us. Enjoy the day while you can. Accept this memory as a gift for your nights to come."

I couldn't refuse. I just couldn't — not when he put it like that, even when I kept hearing the words No Free Lunch yammering in my head. Maybe, I thought, maybe some things are worth the cost. It depended on what you were willing to put out, right? Anyway, I found myself crossing that sun-dappled clearing to sit beside Rex. I accepted the cup of red-berry wine the little goat man pressed into my hand. A slim, green-hued woman-creature with nut dark nipples began to play a reed pipe from her tree-limb perch.

I ate the food, I drank the wine, sang the songs and danced the dance until late in the afternoon. Then it was back to the beach, Rex and me, quiet again. Listening to the day sounds, feeling the heat against my bare skin, the sand blistering my feet. I stared and stared out into the water once we reached the shore. Watched the sun sink down into the sea, staining everything with its crimson joy. I stood out there for a long time, feeling the waves rush over my legs ... and the ground giving way beneath my feet as the sea pulled the sand back and away. I caught my reflection in the shallows and actually looked this time. It was like staring into a pool of blood. My hair mirrored back white — like Tasia's.

I looked back over my shoulder toward Winter's Garden. The sun was all but gone and I could feel her waiting for me.

"So you will return to her," Rex said. "Give up the day for night."

It wasn't really a question. There wasn't any need for me to answer so I didn't.

"A word of caution, then. I know your Queen, she loves you very much." Rex smiled, just like the sun going down. "Never trust her."

I made words at him like I hadn't made in a long time — street words — and started moving off. Rex caught my arm and held out one of the fancy gold cups from our lunch but the wine inside was darker, almost black.

"One thing more," he insisted.

"What's this?" I asked.

"A toast for your future."

"You drink first."

But I couldn't accept it, even after he swallowed a couple of deep gulps. The liquor left his lips stained in a way I was becoming very familiar with. Rex held the goblet out to me again but I wouldn't take it. Just because I was living the fairy tale didn't mean I had to follow through into the trap.

Did I?

The sun was gone bringing an immediate chill. I shivered, wishing for clothes for the first time that day.

Tasia appeared suddenly, soaring out from the air, settling onto the earth between us, Rex and me. Her dark robe and white hair wind-whipped around us.

"Auberon," she snarled, sarcastic. "Aren't you the king of patience? What are you doing on my land?"

"Your land?" Rex — now Auberon — was all surprise. "Has Gaea signed this deed to you?"

"Who's Gaea?" I asked. It kind of popped out.

"Gaea is our mother-father, the Earth," Auberon explained. "Haven't you told him anything, Tasia?"

The big elf grinned. Tasia glowered. I just stood there, out of my league.

"Look — I'm not stupid." I crossed my arms over my chest and pretended I wasn't cold — or scared. "I just don't know anything about these people ... or the rest of it. But I can learn."

I found myself staring down at my feet. Sorry I'd spoken up, sorry to have embarrassed Tasia.

"Milady, I have no intention of interfering between you and your consort," Auberon said, smooth. "I came only to offer the gift. I have offered it. He will not accept unless you agree."

"There's been a lot of gifts today. I don't trust them," I said. "Nothing ever comes free."

"You're a clever, Firehair. That I'll grant." Rex turned to Tasia. "And you agree, this I know. He's the one we've been waiting for, Natasia. I am so pleased for you."

Tasia didn't look pleased. She looked like a child about to burst into tears. I wanted to go to her, hold her. Kept back instead, sensing, somehow, that wouldn't be kosher. Not in front of him.

Tasia turned her back on us. Her shoulders scrunched up and her fists clenched on her arms. She was quiet for so long that I thought she'd forgotten us. She wouldn't look at me when I finally touched her, just kept staring out into the dark.

"What is it?" I asked. "What's the matter?"

"Auberon is right. You are everything I've longed for," she said. "You are everything I've feared."

"I'd never hurt you." I felt as much panicked as confused. "You don't have to be afraid of me. Why would you be scared of me?"

"Not you," she began. "You don't know me, Tony. Nobody knows me." Tasia shook her head and shut down, like someone put a gag over her mouth.

"How can anyone claim the pleasure if you refuse to speak?" Auberon asked. "There is no need to spend your years so alone, my dear."

"My years are not your concern, High King." Tasia's green eyes sparked scarlet. "I am a queen of my own people. I'll care for them - and myself - in the way I see fit."

"As always — and admirably, too, I might add."

Tasia glared at the tall elf but he stood his ground, very straight-faced. "Go ahead," she snapped out. "Take the cup, Tony. Drink it."

"But —"

"Just do it. Let's have it over with so he can go!"

I wasn't exactly thrilled about it, but I didn't want Auberon to know. I grabbed the goblet out of his hand. It was still pretty full and sloshed onto my fingers. I saw it was blood in there, just like I'd guessed.

And I knew it was his blood.

I drained it down, quick as I could. Tried not to taste it. It was just so much — more than anything Tasia and I had exchanged so far and then only in love together.

But Auberon's blood didn't make me sick. It kicked in hard and fast like some super-charged joy juice and dropped me to my knees. I'd planned on throwing that fancy cup at him once I was done, but it just fell out of my fingers afterwards. Tasia gave out with a little cry and knelt down beside me. She put her arms around me and I held onto her. It kept me from drifting off into the stars.

If Auberon said anything else, I never heard it. He went away, left the cup winking behind him in the ragged grass. I shut my eyes — but I still saw so many things, I heard so much. I balled up kind of like I had out on the beach, trying to shut it out. Tasia held me closer. I felt her lips on my hair, on my face.

"I will keep you safe," she promised. Over and over, a child's chant against the dark. "I will keep you safe."

Oh man ... I wanted to believe her.

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