Speaking of Julian...

He looked toward the door a full second before Julian entered. "Come in. Have a seat."

Julian did. He took a cigarette from the breast pocket of his shirt and toyed with it, flicking it across and through his fingers in a skilled juggling motion.

"Smoke it if you like," said Lucien.

Julian shook his head. "Lorelei wants me to quit. I don't need them anymore."

"There's no tobacco in them. What's the harm?"

He shrugged. "She says the smell makes her sick. It didn't used to. I guess the shaman herbs made the difference."

Lucien nodded. "You'd do anything for a woman you love."

Julian c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "You know that about me, do you?"

"No, I know that about myself." He shifted in his chair, tapped the computer screen. "Has anyone compiled these fragments other than to divide them into categories?"

"There's a doc.u.ment on my computer where someone tried to set a large group of the verses in order. I think the Senior did it, and I don't know how accurate the work is."

Lucien studied Julian a moment, considering his next words carefully. So far Julian didn't seem to harbor a volatile temper, but sometimes it was hard to tell. "I don't presume to tell you what to do. You're the Senior, after all, and I have no intention of usurping power rightfully earned."

"You could. You're older than I, and more powerful."

"Nevertheless. The community has no need for that kind of turmoil right now."

Julian nodded. He balanced the cigarette between his lips, then laid it on the desk. "What is it you don't want to tell me to do?"

"It's my feeling that compilation of this data must be made a priority. I know the answers to many of the questions floating around this place right now, but there are other answers within 144 the Book."

"You wrote part of the Book. Can you help with the compilation?"

"Absolutely. I'd like someone to work with me."

"Who do you want?"

"Vivian."

"Why Vivian?"

"She's worked with this material before, if only in a superficial way. She has a feel for it."

Julian picked up his cigarette again, put it back in his pocket.

"Take whoever you need. Whatever you need. If Vivian's not enough, Nicholas should be helpful. He's worked with the material, as well. And I could probably get Lorelei to help you."

Lucien shook his head. "Just Vivian for now. I haven't decided who else to trust. Except you, and I think you have other things to worry about. Or you will."

"In that case, maybe this is a bad time to quit smoking."

Vivian rubbed her eyes, then laid her head down on the desk. Scanning through e-mail after e-mail gave her a kind of motion sickness that was about the most miserable thing she'd ever experienced. She glanced over at Lucien, sitting at the other desk, looking through the printed material. She couldn't quite tell from here, but it looked like he might be reading Cuneiform.

"I think I'm going to barf," she muttered.

He looked at her, smiled, and said something. She had no idea what, or what language. Probably whatever language he was reading.

"Excuse me?"

His smile changed to one of pained amus.e.m.e.nt. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he said in English, "Sorry.

Do you need to take a break?"

"Do I ever. So do you, if you can't remember what century you're in."

"That's really not very vital information. Time's relative, after all. On a day-to-day basis it's more important to remember who's your friend, who wants to kill you, and where your next 145 meal's coming from."

He left his chair and came to stand behind Vivian's, his hands settling on her shoulders. His big fingers pressed gently into her tight muscles, easing the tension.

"What do you eat, anyway?" Vivian ventured, as the warmth from his hands spread down into her shoulders.

"It's hard to explain."

"I'm fairly intelligent. Give it a try."

"Well..." He broke off as his hands pressed harder into her. The increased pressure hurt at first, then her muscles softened like wax beneath his touch. The warmth turned to a deep heat that eased down her shoulder blades and wrapped around her body, soaking through her skin into her heart.

"Do you feel that?" his voice came in a soft murmur just behind her head.

"Yes." She could barely speak through the deep relaxation.

"Don't stop."

"That's what I do." His hands shifted down her back, and the stupefying heat shifted with it, spreading further down. It caressed her thighs, penetrated her s.e.x. "I feed on life energy."

Her eyes snapped open, and she jerked half away from him, but his hands kept their hold, easing her back down. "Stop, then," she managed through the la.s.situde. "Take any more, and you'll kill me."

"Do you feel like you're about to die?"

She considered. "No. Not really."

He chuckled. "I take the energy, then give it back amplified.

It pa.s.ses out of you into me, energizes me, then goes back into you in a transformed state."

If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the ebb and flow of the energy, transferring from her to him and back again.

It wasn't a bad feeling, but the power kept growing. It felt good now, but sooner or later it would have to reach some limit beyond which her body couldn't handle it anymore. Still she held still, wondering what would happen.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Not really. But it's what I do."

She fell silent a moment, just feeling. Her reaction to the 146 peaking energy was all too familiar. It was going to fire off in the only way it knew how.

"Maybe you should stop," she said. Her voice shook.

He laughed softly and let go of her. Still, her body shuddered.

She swallowed hard as, against her will, the tremors started. At least he wasn't touching her now. In fact, she sensed he'd turned away, his attention taken again by the scattered papers as she held very still, trying not to give any outward indication that her body had just exploded into fireworks.

When it had pa.s.sed, she looked at him with watery eyes.

He had, indeed, returned to the papers, seemingly no longer interested in her at all. Anger surged. How dare he take liberties like that? She barely knew him.

"You had no right," she bit out through clenched teeth.

He looked up, his face unreadable. "It was an accident."

She shot to her feet, glaring, fighting to keep her legs steady.

They were undeniably noodley. "If you ever do anything like that to me again without my permission, I'll rip your throat out."

"Point taken."

He seemed contrite enough. She hesitated, deflated, but decided she wasn't ready to accept an apology. Gathering strength to keep her legs from collapsing, she stormed out the door.

Lucien watched her go. As she slammed the door behind her, he smacked himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand. What the h.e.l.l had he been thinking? He'd been careless, let the energy grow too fast. It had seemed like a good way to start breaking down her barriers-when had she closed herself off so thoroughly, and why? But he'd forgotten their ties of blood would cause a quick bloom. Under other circ.u.mstances, she could have enjoyed it. They both could have. But this had been too sudden.

"You'd think," he muttered bitterly, "a guy could manage to learn something in twelve thousand years."

Vivian's angry retreat took her to the kitchen. She hadn't realized it until that moment, but she was hungry. Scary-hungry.

She'd had her usual drink upon awakening, but if a mortal had 147 crossed her path she would have given serious consideration to a feeding frenzy.

Fortunately there were no mortals in her house at the moment, except Dina, and Vivian wasn't entirely sure Dina fit that category anymore, since Nick and Julian had cured her.

The kitchen was deserted. She snagged a bottle of plasma and cast a baleful eye over the jug of unpasteurized milk and the package of raw chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s Julian had contaminated her refrigerator with. He had to keep his food somewhere- there were no refrigerators in the Underground, and Lorelei's apartment was too far for everyday trips. He'd vaguely promised Vivian recompense of some sort. At least he hadn't made a mess. Curious, she opened the meat drawer and found a tray of raw fish and something that looked like part of an octopus.

"Bleah," she said to no one. "And people say my feeding habits are disgusting."

She sat down at the kitchen table, her thoughts turning again to Lucien. Had she overreacted? She wasn't sure. It was entirely possible he'd honestly made a mistake, rather than committing a deliberate invasion. As she sipped from her bottle she found her eyes closing, her memory recreating the heated sensations his touch had aroused. As much of a shock as it had been, she wouldn't mind having him do it again.

No, she couldn't call this a violation. She'd been violated before and this was nothing like that. Lucien's intentions had been good.

A shadow pa.s.sed behind her and she turned, startled.

Lucien stood behind her, uneasy. He touched the table, his gaze seeming to measure the distance between them.

"Yes?" Vivian said.

"I'm sorry."

She gave him a moment to twist in the wind, but he didn't seem to be twisting. He stood very still, his blue-gray gaze direct on hers. Suddenly guilty, she gave in. "I overreacted. It's okay."

"May I explain?" His voice was gentle.

Something in her brain perked up. She'd thought his face looked familiar before. Now his voice seemed to be activating 148 the same, unreachable ghosts of memory.

"Of course."

He sat. He looked huge in her plain wooden dining room chairs. "Your energy is different from that of most of the Children."

"Why is that?"

"The one who Made you." He paused. "He was one of the first demons."

She shrugged and looked away. She'd spent several centuries trying to forget about that particular vampire. "How should I know? He never told me who he was, and after he Changed me, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d disappeared." Then she realized he hadn't asked her a question. Rather, he'd stated a fact. "You're certain of this?"

"Only a First Child would have responded so quickly."

She looked at the table, old anger struggling to surface.

"Well. Another piece of the puzzle that is me."

A soft ma.s.s of silence filled the room, then he said softly, "He wouldn't have left you without a reason."

"And how the h.e.l.l would you know that?"

"I knew them all. We were brothers."

"Nice." She drained her bottle and set it on the counter next to a half-dozen others. Dr. Greene would collect them in the morning, sterilize and refill them. "Well, if you see your brother, let him know I'm looking for him. I'd like to have a chat."

He looked away that time, watching his own big fingers trace the line of the grain in the wooden table. The silence was no longer soft, but carried sharp edges. Again, Vivian wished she hadn't lashed out.

"Lucien-" she started, but a third joined their party then.

Nicholas, a bit short of breath, his brow tight with concern.

"Viv, you have a phone call in the den."

She straightened. "Who?"

"Evelyn." 149