She loses consciousness almost immediately.

I get to work.

SIXTEEN.

When I get to France, I immediately turn around and drive under the Channel, back to England. As a result, dawn finds me in London, in a poor section of town, where it's possible to rent a motel room and carry in a body and nobody asks any questions.

The van I stole to transport the woman belongs to an electrician. I'm lucky-it has several long rolls of electrical wire, in all gauges, in the back. The wire allows me to tie the woman to the bed. I wrap her up so thoroughly she looks like a generator waiting to be plugged in. The van also has tools I use to construct a wicked shocking device. I'm not a fan of torture, but I'm less a fan of dying, and these people are trying to kill me.

In France-before driving back to England-I dug out her bullets and her suicide tooth. I even sewed up a couple of her torn arteries in the rear of the van. Yet she's still bleeding as I tie her to the motel bed. She's in pain, moaning beneath the cloth I have taped over her mouth. I pull off the rag once we're settled and sit beside her on the bed.

"I won't gag you if you promise not to cry out," I say.

She nods weakly. "Thirsty."

The motel, despite its wretched exterior, has a well-stocked minibar. I hold a bottle of Evian water to her lips, and she gulps hungrily. I pull it away.

"Sip it slowly. You'll throw up."

She nods and slowly drinks the entire bottle.

"Would you like some more?" I ask as I toss the bottle in the garbage.

"I'm fine." She coughs. "Relatively speaking."

"So you have a sense of humor, good. I was beginning to wonder about you people."

"You know nothing about us," she says bitterly.

"That's why we're here, to get acquainted."

"That's not why we're here."

"No?"

"You're interested in only one thing."

"What's that?"

"Why do you play these games?"

"This isn't a game. I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

"Blood."

I smile. "You're joking. Who told you that?"

"You deny that you're a vampire?"

"No. It's not something I go around advertising, but I'm not a bloodsucker. In the last fifteen years, I've seldom drunk human blood."

"Liar."

"I'm aware of your mental abilities. I possess similar powers. But I can't read your mind, and you can't read mine. At the same time, I sense you know the truth when it's spoken aloud. So listen to me. I almost never drink human blood. I don't hunt people and drain away their blood and leave them to die. Now am I speaking the truth or not?"

She hesitates. "We know your history. We know you're evil."

"What's your name?"

"What do you care?"

"My name is Alisa. I-"

"That's not your real name," she interrupts.

"What's my real name?"

"Sita. Bloody Sita."

"I'm impressed. You do know something of my past. Who told you my name?"

"If I tell you, I'll be executed."

"Come on, I won't tell anybody."

"No."

"You can tell your pals I tortured the information out of you."

"They wouldn't care."

"Well, then, maybe I will have to torture you."

Her eyes widen. "You would enjoy that."

"It gives me no pleasure to hurt someone."

"I've seen you in action. You're a killing machine."

"Just because I'm good at it doesn't mean I enjoy it. You and your partners came to kill me. I was just defending myself."

"You're faster than us, stronger. You could have fled if you were only interested in protecting yourself."

"Bullshit. If I didn't set an example that I'm not to be fooled with, your people would never leave me alone."

"What kind of example are you going to make of me?"

"Answer a few questions and I'll call your people right now and tell them the address of this motel. They can pick you up and take you to their own private hospital."

She looks away. "We don't have hospitals."

"Because you're strong. You don't age."

"You may as well start the torture. I'm not going to answer your questions."

"Stop it! I don't want to torture you!"

"You are torturing me! My knees are shattered. My hands are broken! I can't stop bleeding. What else can you do to me?"

I soften my tone. "I know you're in pain, I can feel it. I can go to a hospital or pharmacy and get you bandages and medicine and clean up your wounds and remove the pain."

"If-"

"If you tell me your name."

She stares at me. "That's all?"

"Yes."

"My name is Numbria."

"That's a pretty name."

"You don't know what it means."

"But I do. It's not mentioned in any history books, but it's the name of the younger sister of the Goddess Isis. The mantra 'Om Numbria' used to be considered one of the most powerful chants on earth."

She's stunned. "How do you know this?"

"A friend of mine taught me the mantra. I used to chant it."

"You worship the Goddess?"

"Sort of. When I was young, I met Krishna. He touched me deeply. He told me that when a person worships him, they worship all forms of God. He said the form doesn't matter. Only the love matters."

She appears genuinely curious. "How does it matter?"

"He said worship cultures the human heart. That's why being a parent is the highest calling a human being can have. Krishna believed most parents worship their children."

"Huh! Most parents are cruel."

"Were your parents cruel to you, Numbria?"

She turns away. "I won't speak of them."

I squeeze her arm gently. "Do you want the medicine or not?"

Numbria casts me a weary glance. "You're not what I expected."

"Thank you." I stand from the bed. "On the drive here, I saw a clinic three blocks over. I can get you what you need there. I'll leave you ungagged if you promise to stay quiet. But if you call for help, I'll hear you and be back before anyone else can arrive. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

I turn toward the door. "I won't be long."

It's true I prefer to get the information I need without resorting to torture. I don't mind playing doctor to Numbria. But I have another motive in seeking out drugs. Sodium Pentothal is an established truth serum. From experience, I've found it to be effective. Yet I know if morphine and a small amount of dilaudid are added, the combination is much more potent, especially if the subject in question is in pain.

I have no trouble obtaining what I wish at the clinic. I accidentally bump into a young doctor in the hallway and work my magic on him, and a few minutes later he sends me out the door with a bag full of goodies. All free of charge. You have to love the British and their universal health care system.

However, a disturbing feeling sweeps over me as I prepare to leave the clinic. It's so strong it's close to a physical sensation. I feel like I'm being watched. Not by one set of eyes, either, but by a multitude. I remain still a long time, trying to get a fix on the source, to no avail.

I call Seymour on the cell phone I stole from the doctor. He's upset I didn't call earlier, but I apologize and we get down to business.

"How are Teri and Matt doing?" I ask.

"You mean, how do they feel about last night?"

"Yeah. Did they see anything?"

"They didn't see you. You lucked out in that respect. But there was gossip at the president's hotel about some superchick with blond hair who killed a dozen people. They both saw blood on the floor, and Matt kept asking where you were."

"Why?"

"Like you said, the guy's got an antenna. Maybe he's worried you were the superchick."

"They don't even know I was at that hotel."

"I guess."

"What did you tell him?"

"That you were tired and went to bed."

"Did Teri get to meet the president?"

"No. His secret service was too spooked to throw another party."

"A pity."

"I take it you killed the four?"