"Welcome to the human race."

"RECENT STUDIES Of The Long-Term Effects Of Antidepressant medication clearly demonstrate..."

Roger frowned at the flashing cursor on the computer screen. For the moment he couldn't recall what those studies were supposed to demonstrate. This article wasn't going well. He hoped to build some coherent conclusions from the various antidepressant trials he had performed on Alice and other patients. Worries over Sandor's recent low profile distracted him, though. Well aware of what lay behind the renegade's compulsion to kill, Roger knew he hadn't simply stopped.

He wished he could believe Sandor had left Maryland.No, you don't, he admonished himself.Not if it means spending the rest of your life wondering where he'll strike next. It struck him as ominous that the only sign of the murderer since before Thanksgiving had been the dreams Alice Kovak, now Britt's patient, reported to her-nightmares of rending teeth and crimson eyes.

Roger was also distracted by a vague unease, emanating from Britt, that crept through the lower levels of his mind. For the past week or so, something had been troubling her, separate from their concern about Sandor. Though Roger sensed some problem building toward crisis, she hadn't yet confided in him. Doubtless her preoccupation centered on a patient, and confidentiality prevented her from consulting Roger, except in general terms, without permission. And he wouldn't consider violating her mental privacy.

Still, it was almost impossible to work with her unexplained distress nagging at him. He checked his watch. After ten p.m. on a Thursday night-why wasn't she asleep? The barrier of five miles and the Severn River didn't keep him from sensing her anxiety.

Verbal telepathic communication over that distance took more effort, but he decided to call anyway. Even if she wouldn't reveal specifics, she might accept his comfort. He figuratively turned up the gain on his mental output.

"Britt, what is the matter with you?" The texture of the thought came out more impatient than he'd intended.

He sensed hesitation before she replied. "Headache, cramps, backache-the usual."

""The usual" makes you tired and cranky, not anxious. You're holding out on me."

"Not by choice. I can't tell you anything at this time."

"At least you admit there's something to tell. That's better."

"Stop talking as if I'm obligated to consult you on every problem that pops up. If I want your help, I know when to ask." The uncharacteristic outburst reminded Roger of her bodily discomfort.

"I didn't mean to imply that, or to hara.s.s you. You know your pain affects me. I wish I could help you with the physical part of it."

Her tone lightened. "You can. Come right over."

He steeled himself against her mental seduction. "Not until tomorrow night."

"This "weekend only" rule is your self-imposed limitation, not a law of nature."

The deeper their intimacy became, the less Britt wanted to hold back. Roger insisted that their mutual attraction made rules, however arbitrary, essential to preserve her health. He knew how wise they were to continue living apart; constant proximity would have made moderation impossible. "I wouldn't enjoy taking you to the ER and trying to explain why you need a transfusion." "Well, this weekend that hazard won't exist. I'll probably start by tomorrow night."

Roger looked forward to that. He rejoiced that three nights per month he could enjoy Britt in a mode not only harmless but beneficial. Disturbing images flowed into his mind; he attempted to block them.

Feeling his resistance, Britt undermined it by projecting a sensual fantasy of her own. "I hope you're going to be very hungry this time tomorrow."

"Why do you like torturing me?"

"Because you're so easy to get a rise out of that it's irresistible." She added with a feigned sigh, "Oh, all right, I guess I have an obligation to calm you down. Let's see, I can't suggest that you think of blizzards and snowdrifts. You'd probablylike that. Think about the boardwalk in Ocean City at high noon on the Fourth of July."

"That's enough to kill anyone's appet.i.te."

"As far as I've seen,nothingkills your appet.i.te." The flirtatious overtones disappeared from her mental "voice." "Oops, my phone's ringing. Later, colleague."

Roger turned back to the computer. Unable to concentrate on the interrupted article, he picked up renewed anxiety and agitation from Britt. A tentative overture brought a rebuff; she didn't want to be distracted. Giving up on work for the night, Roger saved his file and tried to settle in the living room with a horror novel (outlandish enough to provide comic relief from his own peculiar adjustment problems), a Bach fugue, and a gla.s.s of milk. Stephen King's latest banquet of gore, however, couldn't compete with the subliminal echoes of Britt's unhappiness. Roger actually relaxed when the telephone rang twenty minutes later.

"Yes, colleague? Why are you calling this way?"

"I'm phoning from a police van," Britt said. "It would look kind of strange if you showed up without anybody seeing me call you."

"Police? Where? What's going on?"

"Don't panic yet," she said. "You may need the panic b.u.t.ton later. I'm at a patient's home. She's locked herself in with a Luger, threatening to shoot herself or anybody who breaks in."

The news didn't slow Roger's pulse. "She?"

"Alice Kovak."

"Good G.o.d, my sins have come back to haunt me."

"Afraid so," Britt said. "She won't talk to me; she wants you. Look, I'll tell you the details when you get here. You know where the house is?"

"I could hardly forget, unfortunately. On my way."

Outside, a weepy drizzle misted the cool night air. In the car he seethed over the prospect of talking Alice out of selfdestruction yet again.So she's still obsessed with me. How long will I have to keep paying for that?

After crossing the Severn and South Rivers, then driving through Edgewater to the Kovaks' semi-rural neighborhood, Roger caught sight of revolving red and blue lights as soon as he turned onto their road. The police had done a good job of discouraging curiosity seekers. Aside from family, the only civilians present were a local TV news team. Roger gritted his teeth in exasperation at the sight of the reporters.

He pulled up behind Britt's new car, a forest-green Porsche adorned (or disfigured, in his opinion) by a Red Cross b.u.mper sticker proclaiming, "Blood donors make better lovers." She broke away from the huddle of police officers in the front yard and ran to him, her thoughts welcoming him with the embrace they couldn't physically share in public. "Come on, we'll talk in my car." In the front seat of the Porsche, she said, "Alice resented your turning her case over to me, but I thought she'd worked through that.

Obviously I was wrong."

He strove to keep from responding to her distress and thereby augmenting it. "Specifics?"

"She's still infatuated with you," said Britt. "In the past couple of weeks you've been the main topic of every session with her."

"Somehow I'm not flattered."

"Nor should you be." Britt's tone held no shadow of condemnation; she'd forgiven Roger and was concerned only with the patient.

"You told me yourself that the attraction isn't personal. But do the aftereffects of a vampire attack usually last this long?"

"Not in a balanced personality. Not without encouragement. But Alice, on top of everything else, nearly got killed by Sandor. No wonder she became obsessed with the only vampire in reach. I'd hoped transferring her to you would cure that."

"Well, it didn't work."

"If I needed any further reason to avoid preying on patients-" He sighed heavily. He'd remained faithful to Britt except for that one lapse, but it only took one. "Colleague, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Aside from the confidentiality factor, I didn't want to worry you."

"Didn't want to worry-!"

"There's worse," Britt said. "She's conceived the notion that you're a vampire."

Roger stared at her, beyond surprise. "I trust you've tried to convince her otherwise."

"Sure. In a non-directive way, naturally."

"Naturally. The hypnosis I used should have blotted out Alice's memory of our encounters, but the unconscious works in mysterious ways." He took a deep breath and opened the car door. "I may as well go talk to her."

Alice's family hovered beside the front walk, as near the house as the police would allow. Roger sensed the layman's awe of a physician emanating from Mrs. Kovak. "I don't know what's gotten into her, Doctor. Last night she got out of bed and disappeared for hours. And now this!" Her wide eyes beseeched Roger for an instant solution.

Resentment from Mr. Kovak and Peter, especially the younger man, scalded Roger. "Can't figure out why she's so set on talking to you," Mr. Kovak muttered. Peter simply scowled.

Roger turned on the father. "You knew your daughter had suicidal tendencies. Where did she get the gun?"

Taken aback, Mr. Kovak retreated a step and said less belligerently, "My Luger-it was in the top of the closet. Look, I didn't think Alice even knew I had it."

"Haven't you learned she is not a fool? Her introverted personality doesn't mean that she doesn't observe things."

Britt silently interrupted, "This isn't the time, Roger. Ripping into them now is pretty callous."

"You may be right. But I don't have much patience with human stupidity."

"No worse than some examples of vampire stupidity I could mention."

The tart flavor of Britt's rebuke silenced Roger. Unable to bring himself to apologize to Mr. Kovak, he introduced himself to the police officer who seemed to be in charge, a tall, middle-aged black with a Marine-style haircut. The officer gave him a preoccupied handshake and said, "Just a second while I let the girl know you've arrived."

Taking a battery-operated megaphone from a subordinate, he blared, "Miss Kovak, Dr. Darvell is here. If you'll open the door for him, I give you my word n.o.body else will try to get in."

Silence. After a few seconds, Roger heard the click of the front door lock. He walked onto the porch and took a moment to focus his attention, so that the tumultuous emotions of the spectators faded into background noise. From inside, he felt the girl's anger and fear like a hovering cloud of smoke.

Slowly turning the k.n.o.b, he inched the door open. "Dr. Darvell?" said Alice's voice, shrill with tension. "Come in."

Chapter 19

HE STEPPED INSIDE, pulling the door shut behind him and locking it. The room was unlit. Good-Roger's night vision gave him an advantage. Alice could see him by the glow from the street lamp just outside the picture window, but she probably couldn't distinguish details. She sat in an armchair across the room near the television, cradling the Luger. She raised the muzzle as Roger took a step closer.

"Stay back, Doctor. You can sit on the couch."

Moving with exaggerated slowness, he did so. Her appearance as well as her voice showed how distraught she was. Her long, blonde hair was tangled, and her eyes continually darted from Roger to the window and back. Her thin legs, clad in cut-off jeans, were tucked under her, prepared to leap.

He suppressed a surge of annoyance at the sight of her. Her fixation on him wasn't her fault, after all. He had brought it on by his own reckless self-indulgence.

Uncomfortable memories of the second encounter, the one that had nearly killed her, flashed through his mind as Alice held the gun on him.More dangerous than a bottle of tranquilizers. He a.s.sumed a relaxed pose, arms along the back of the couch, both hands in sight. The air of nonchalance, he hoped, masked his inward stance of taut alertness. "Why did you want to speak to me, Alice?"

"I remember what you did to me," she whispered.

"Oh? What do you remember?" He kept his voice even.

"You sucked my blood."

"Why would I do such an extraordinary thing?" he said in a slightly bantering tone.

"Because you're a vampire-why else?"

"n.o.body believes in vampires, Alice. And if they did exist, I couldn't be one. Vampires are destroyed by sunlight, aren't they?

You've seen me during the day many times."

She looked unsure for only a few seconds. "Then I guess the sun doesn't kill them. Because I know what you are."

How could one argue with that kind of logic? Nevertheless, he tried again. His main goal was not to change her mind, but to get her off guard so that he could use his inhuman strength and speed to disarm her without injury to either of them. "Come, now, Alice, I don't even have fangs."

"Your eyes glow in the dark," she said.

So they did, a factor he'd momentarily forgotten. "A trick of the light, surely."

"Stop trying to lie," she said, her breath coming fast and shallow as she tried not to sob aloud. "Iremember your teeth in my neck."

Her words evoked an all too vivid image. Despite his mental revulsion, Roger's body responded. He felt disgusted with himself for salivating like a starving wolf over a creature who could offer him nothing more than he could get from any healthy mammal. How could he have succ.u.mbed to this neurotic child after experiencing Britt's mature pa.s.sion? After a moment's struggle for control, he said in his blandest professional tone, "How do you feel about that?"

"It makes me sick!" she cried. "But then-then I liked it. I wanted you to do it again. Oh, G.o.d, Ibeggedfor it!" She broke down.

Yet even with tears streaming down her cheeks, she managed to keep the gun steady and her eyes on the target.

"Have you talked to Dr. Loren about that?" "She doesn't believe me," Alice gulped. "n.o.body does. Except maybe Peter, a little bit. Our grandparents on both sides came over from the old country. They used to tell us stories-" She glared at Roger. "I don't like Dr. Loren. Why'd you make me switch to her?"

"Precisely because of those delusions about me. Surely you can see I could do no good as your therapist in that situation?"

"Why did you leave me tohim?If I have to belong to somebody, I'd rather it be you."

Roger's stomach cramped at the blend of l.u.s.t and terror she projected. "Can you tell me whom you're talking about?"

"Him-the man who-" She had to swallow a lump of fear before she could force out a complete sentence. "He called me last night, and I sneaked out of the house to meet him. He drank-the way you did-and then he gave me a message for you."

The hair p.r.i.c.kled at the nape of Roger's neck. "For me?"

"He said-" Alice's voice shifted to a croaking whisper-"'Darvell, this girl belongs to me now. If I want it, everything you own can belong to me. Including that lady doctor of yours. So you better reconsider joining my side. Just you and me against the rest of the pack. After I've taken everything I want from you, I'll make the offer again. Enjoy the wait, Doctor.'" Alice's breathing was jagged.

Trying to capture her eyes, Roger pitched his voice to a hypnotic murmur. "Calm yourself, Alice, you're hyperventilating."

"What do you care? You just want to get rid of me!" She wiped her face with the back of her left hand. Her right, holding the Luger, trembled.