foreign to me. I’m not used to having humans around, not used to being . . .”
“Vulnerable,” she finished for him, and it was not a question. John nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he said, meeting her gaze finally.
“We’re not done yet,” she told him. “I was in Venice, my lover is a vampire, but I’ve never seen a vampire do some of the things I’ve seen you do today. And I
have no idea how you could know whether Will is alive or dead. What’s going on?”
The sadness disappeared from John Courage’s face, replaced by a barrier of determination, a fierce secrecy.
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said, but there was no sarcasm in his voice. “I’ve been around awhile. All shadows have the same abilities, but they must learn to
utilize them. In fact, the vampires you know are much more powerful than even they are aware.”
“So how old are you, and who are you really?” she asked.
“That,” John said and let out a breath, “that you’ll know soon enough. It’s why I was in Salzburg in the first place, why I found you and Cody. But the answers to
those questions must be found to be believed. If I simply told you, you’d never buy it.”
Allison nodded, satisfied that, for the moment at least, that’s all she was getting from him. They walked at a good clip, ducking low branches along their rough path. She scanned around
them, expecting at any moment to see giant demonic things lumbering toward them through the trees, or those small, vicious jackals snapping toward them up the path. Nothing happened except that
they continued to move uphill, and Allison began to believe that she could feel a difference up here. As if, for the moment, they had escaped.
“You knew there wouldn’t be any demons up here,” she said.
“Call it a hunch.”
They slowed and Allison looked up the path. Ominous walls stood to the right, towering twenty-five or so feet above the path. As far as she could tell, there were no windows.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You didn’t come up here with Will?” John smiled at her finally. “Shame on you. Bad tourists! It’s a monastery. Capuchin monks, in cloister, as far as the locals
know.”
They drew up toward huge double doors of wood and iron, and as John went forward to ring a bell hung next to them, Allison watched him closely, frowning, thinking. He backed off to wait, and
looked toward her again.
“Before you ask, it was a monastery once. The older brothers died over time, and the younger ones we shipped to other locations.”
“We?”
“A couple of my friends and I. We own this place, now. Of course, not on paper.”
A bolt slid noisily back on the other side of the doors the left swung open slowly, and a short, portly but not unattractive woman stood there with a cross look on her face, like an angry
mother.
“Next time, take your time, why don’t you?” she said, then turned to Allison with a friendly smile, the crankiness gone from her face. “And you are?”
“Allison Vigeant,” John said, “Martha. Martha, Allison.”
They stepped into a great courtyard, around which the stone building stood, almost a fortress in itself In the center, an enormous fountain lay dormant. Two slender young men appeared in a
doorway on their right, came quickly forward and bowed their heads to John Courage. They were twins, and quite handsome as far as Allison was concerned, but how many vampires weren’t? Of
course, Martha was a vampire as well, though certainly the least attractive Allison had seen. She had long since realized that with the control they could wield over their forms, the shadows honed
their appearance, both consciously and unconsciously, throughout their existence. She wondered why Martha did not practice that particular art.
“Allison, these are the sons of Lazarus: Jared and Isaac,” Martha said, and each man bowed as his name was said.
Lazarus ! Her mind raced.
“You’re full of surprises,” she said, turning on
“Vulnerable,” she finished for him, and it was not a question. John nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he said, meeting her gaze finally.
“We’re not done yet,” she told him. “I was in Venice, my lover is a vampire, but I’ve never seen a vampire do some of the things I’ve seen you do today. And I
have no idea how you could know whether Will is alive or dead. What’s going on?”
The sadness disappeared from John Courage’s face, replaced by a barrier of determination, a fierce secrecy.
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said, but there was no sarcasm in his voice. “I’ve been around awhile. All shadows have the same abilities, but they must learn to
utilize them. In fact, the vampires you know are much more powerful than even they are aware.”
“So how old are you, and who are you really?” she asked.
“That,” John said and let out a breath, “that you’ll know soon enough. It’s why I was in Salzburg in the first place, why I found you and Cody. But the answers to
those questions must be found to be believed. If I simply told you, you’d never buy it.”
Allison nodded, satisfied that, for the moment at least, that’s all she was getting from him. They walked at a good clip, ducking low branches along their rough path. She scanned around
them, expecting at any moment to see giant demonic things lumbering toward them through the trees, or those small, vicious jackals snapping toward them up the path. Nothing happened except that
they continued to move uphill, and Allison began to believe that she could feel a difference up here. As if, for the moment, they had escaped.
“You knew there wouldn’t be any demons up here,” she said.
“Call it a hunch.”
They slowed and Allison looked up the path. Ominous walls stood to the right, towering twenty-five or so feet above the path. As far as she could tell, there were no windows.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You didn’t come up here with Will?” John smiled at her finally. “Shame on you. Bad tourists! It’s a monastery. Capuchin monks, in cloister, as far as the locals
know.”
They drew up toward huge double doors of wood and iron, and as John went forward to ring a bell hung next to them, Allison watched him closely, frowning, thinking. He backed off to wait, and
looked toward her again.
“Before you ask, it was a monastery once. The older brothers died over time, and the younger ones we shipped to other locations.”
“We?”
“A couple of my friends and I. We own this place, now. Of course, not on paper.”
A bolt slid noisily back on the other side of the doors the left swung open slowly, and a short, portly but not unattractive woman stood there with a cross look on her face, like an angry
mother.
“Next time, take your time, why don’t you?” she said, then turned to Allison with a friendly smile, the crankiness gone from her face. “And you are?”
“Allison Vigeant,” John said, “Martha. Martha, Allison.”
They stepped into a great courtyard, around which the stone building stood, almost a fortress in itself In the center, an enormous fountain lay dormant. Two slender young men appeared in a
doorway on their right, came quickly forward and bowed their heads to John Courage. They were twins, and quite handsome as far as Allison was concerned, but how many vampires weren’t? Of
course, Martha was a vampire as well, though certainly the least attractive Allison had seen. She had long since realized that with the control they could wield over their forms, the shadows honed
their appearance, both consciously and unconsciously, throughout their existence. She wondered why Martha did not practice that particular art.
“Allison, these are the sons of Lazarus: Jared and Isaac,” Martha said, and each man bowed as his name was said.
Lazarus ! Her mind raced.
“You’re full of surprises,” she said, turning on
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