Insatiable

direction, but she was serenely trying to get Yalena to eat a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie

from the batch she’d just pulled from the oven. (Meena had been shoveling Sister Gertrude’s

cookies into her mouth nonstop since the nun had led them back into the rectory’s kitchen from

the cab they’d all come tumbling out of—Alaric had kept Stefan Dominic smothered under his

own black leather trench coat in order to protect him from the sun, and at sword-point, the

entire ride downtown…much to the bemusement of their cabbie.)

Abraham Holtzman went on. “Whatever impression Guardsman Wulf might have given

you, and I don’t doubt it’s been a colorful one, you should know that he’s one of our most

highly skilled officers. He garners more kills every year than the average guard accumulates in

an entire career. That he manages to do so with zero loss of civilian life is a truly unheard-of

accomplishment in our line of work.” Abraham looked thoughtful. “He has a grating personal

manner. I’ll give you that. But considering his background, it’s only to be expected.”

Meena raised her eyebrows. “His background?” she asked.

“Well, the fact that he’s…” Abraham looked uncomfortably at Sister Gertrude and

Yalena and whispered, “A bastard .”

Meena had to suppress a smile.

“In America we call that being raised by a single mom,” she whispered back. “And it’s

actually not that big a deal. It happens to a lot of people.”

“Oh, but he wasn’t,” Abraham said. “His mother was a drug addict who abandoned him.

He grew up on the streets until he was put into a youth home, which is where the Palatine

found him. Now what is this about you being some kind of psychic?” Abraham asked, before

Meena had time to get over her surprise at hearing this about a man who seemed to go about

life with such a chip on his shoulder. “This is very unlikely, isn’t it? Perhaps Alaric

misunderstood. He often does. His people skills leave much to be desired…understandably.”

Meena bristled. What was up with men who worked for the Palatine Guard? Were they

all completely arrogant?

“Yes,” she said. “That’s right. He misunderstood.”

“I thought so.” Abraham looked out the rectory windows and then at his watch. “The sun

is starting to set. Sister, I think we’d better move Miss Yalena to a room without windows.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sister Gertrude said. She laid gentle hands on Yalena’s shoulders.

“Come along, dear.”

“Wait,” Meena said as Yalena rose—like an obedient child—and allowed the nun to

begin steering her from the room. “I don’t understand. A room without windows? What do you

think is going to happen when the sun sets?”

“Well,” Abraham said, looking a bit uncomfortable, “I think it’s very likely that after

darkness falls, the Dracul will come here looking for you, Miss Harper.”

“ Me? ” Meena blurted. She stared at him. “What would the Dracul want with me ?”

“Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Abraham said with the same sort of

eagerness any other type of academic might show. He just happened to be an expert on

demonology. “But there’s a reason that vampire downstairs went to such elaborate lengths to

stage an abduction of you during daylight hours. Very risky. He could easily have been fried

alive. Someone wants you, Miss Harper, very much. Whether it’s the dark lord or someone

else…”

Meena opened her mouth to say that it was ridiculous to suggest that Lucien was behind

the kidnapping attempt on her. True, she did remember exacting a promise from him, right

before falling asleep in his arms at dawn, that he would go away and never come

back…otherwise he was going to kill her brother and Alaric.

But kidnap her against her will so that they could be together? Never. Lucien loved her,

and she him. He would never have sent anyone to do such a thing to her. He’d have kidnapped

her himself.

Wait. No, he wouldn’t.

Would he?

Abraham Holtzman, however, didn’t give her the chance to say a word.

“The best thing we can do right now is batten down the hatches, as they say, and prepare

for a long night. You and I can defend ourselves, of course, but this young lady here…” He

sent a compassionate glance in Yalena’s direction; she still stood in the doorway, Sister

Gertrude’s arm around her. “Well, she’s best off safely tucked in bed, I think.”

Sister Gertrude nodded, not seeming at all ruffled at the suggestion that her church might

come under vampire attack now that it was getting dark out.

“I’ll put some garlic on her door, for good measure,” the nun said with a hearty nod.

“Excellent idea,” Abraham Holtzman said. “The oldies are still the goodies.”

“And I’ve got my Beretta semiautomatic,” Sister Gertrude added cheerfully, patting her

habit, “right here with the silver bullets. That ought to take out a few of those dirtbags.”

Meena’s eyes widened. No wonder she had such a bad feeling about all this.

These people were completely nuts.

Yalena surprised everyone by opening her mouth and trying to speak. “I—” Her blueeyed gaze was fixed on Meena. Yalena stood in the doorway, wrapped in the absurdly huge

comforter, with the stout little nun’s arm around her.

“I—sorry,” Yalena finally managed to say, a tear escaping from one swollen eyelid and

trickling slowly down her bruised cheek. “I not want to call you, Meena. I not want to g-get

you in trouble like I in trouble. But he find the card you give me. Right away, he find it. And

today, for some reason, they make me call you. They say they do to me what they do to…the

other girls if I don’t. I so sorry!”

She flung both her trembling hands over her face and burst into sobs. Sister Gertrude tsktsked with her tongue and hugged Yalena’s slight form fiercely to her bosom.

“There, there, dear,” Sister Gertrude said. “They’re nasty, nasty creatures. You mustn’t

blame yourself. You didn’t know.”

“I not know,” Yalena sobbed into Sister Gertrude’s habit. “I not know!”

Meena got up from the kitchen table and went to lay a hand on Yalena’s slender back,

her heart twisting for the girl.

“It’s all right, Yalena,” she said. “It was good that you called me. I told you to,

remember? I said I’d help you, and I did.” Well, technically, Alaric had. But she was the one

who’d brought Alaric and his sword arm along. “But,” Meena added, “I need to know…what

other girls?”

Yalena lifted her bruised, tear-stained face from Sister Gertrude’s shoulder and said,

sniffling, “For the bankers. Gerald, he not a manager for actresses.” Yalena looked infinitely

sad. “He only wants girls to feed to the bankers.”

“To feed to the bankers?” Meena shook her head, completely confused…and horrified.

“Yalena, what are you talking about?”

“The bankers,” Yalena said. Her eyes were wide with terror. “That they make into the

vampires.”

Chapter Forty-eight

7:30 P.M . EST, Saturday, April 17

Shrine of St. Clare

154 Sullivan Street

New York, New York

O h, my God,” Meena said after Sister Gertrude had taken Yalena—sobbing too

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