The Vampire dad A Susan & Sabastian Story Book 1, a vampires fanfic

The Vampire dad (a Susan & Sabastian story)
Book One

Chapter One:

His deep blue eyes shone widely as he looked at the little girl beside him.

"What's wrong with my mommy?" she asked him again.

His eyes darted down to the body over which he was kneeling. It was this child's mother and he had just killed her.

"I think she is dead," he said coldly, but it was obvious the little girl didn't understand. She got down on her hands and knees and tried to rouse her mother out of her deep sleep.

"No, child," the stranger said, "you cannot wake her. She is dead."

The little girl looked at him, sat down, and started to cry.

Chapter Two:

For a long time the two of them sat silently over the body, neither knowing what to do or say. The little girl was too young; the man, meanwhile, had never been in this situation before.

He thought to himself, "What am I to do now? I must get rid of the body, but what about the girl?"

Luckily, despite the fact that he had just killed the girl's mother, the thought of killing the little girl never crossed his mind.

"I cannot leave the girl here," his mind continued. "I must find someplace for her. There must be someone that will take her.

"That is what I will do. I will look up a child protection group. I am sure they have such things nowadays, they existed when I was a child—why not now? I will drop her off tonight after I deal with the body."

Although he had decided on the appropriate action, he continued looking at the body as if the little girl didn't exist. The little girl also remained in her own world as if the man didn't exist.

Perhaps each hoped the other would go away. That things would go back to the way they were just minutes before. In reality, however, though neither knew it at the time, both of their lives were irreparably changed that night.

Chapter Three:

"She isn't going to wake up is she?" asked the little girl, breaking the silence. She was beginning to sob.

"No, she is not."

As the child cried, the stranger began to feel an ache of sadness he hadn't felt in many years. He didn't like this pain; it reminded him of before. It reminded him of his humanity. Something he had spent years attempting to deny because of the inhumanity of his current existence.

A single red tear ran down his face, clinging to his chin momentarily before it let go and fell to the ground forming a perfect crimson circle on the pavement.

"Come, child, I must get you away from this place."

"I want to stay with my mommy."

"You cannot. You must come with me."

He rose, taking the little girl's hand. Reluctantly, and with tears continuing to flow, she followed the stranger as he walked out of the alley.

The interesting thing, and one he would only realize later, was that he had forgotten about the body. He cared more about protecting this woman's child than about protecting himself. For by leaving the body, he exposed himself and many like him to the potential for great harm. But at that moment, these thoughts weren't in his mind.

Chapter Four:

The stranger took the little girl to a brownstone in mid-town, just off of Third Ave. This required a short ride on the 6 train to get uptown. It was late, so there weren't many people on the train to see this odd couple.

A middle age man dressed in an old, but dapper fashion and a little girl of no more than four or five years old. Although this wouldn't have attracted much attention, his pale color contrasted greatly with her pink hue, which was pinker then usual since she had been crying. He was dressed almost entirely in black, she in bright, primary colors. He was prim and proper while the heels of her shoes had little lights in them that blinked as she walked—this, by the way, was a constant irritation to him since his existence depended on secrecy and being able to move about unnoticed.

"What's your name?" the little girl asked.

"My name?" the stranger asked in return, a little surprised. He thought about the child's question for a moment, since he never even thought to ask her name, and finally responded, "I am called Sabastian.

"What, my dear, is your name?"

"Sabastian, that's a funny name."

"Well, I took a rather long time to decide on that name. I quite like it," Sabastian sputtered, taken aback by the girl's comment. He felt her statement had been rather impertinent.

"It's ok, but it's funny."

Reeling slightly from being told he had a funny name, Sabastian stated a bit curtly, "Well, since you think my name is so funny, enlighten me as to your name."

"I'm Susan."

"Well, hello Susan," he said, regaining his composure—after all he was only talking to a little girl. "It is a pleasure, no, an honor to make your acquaintance, even if you do not like my name."

Susan just giggled and wiped her eyes. She had stopped crying.

But it was the giggle that drew Sabastian in. It was the giggle that made him want to be with this little creature that he would otherwise wish to kill. It was the giggle that stirred in him the reality that he was going to leave this poor little girl in the arms of someone else before the night had ended. It was the giggle that reminded him that he had caused all of this to happen. It was his fault that Susan's mother lay dead in an ally in lower Manhattan.

Chapter Five:

"No," he thought while sitting in the subway car, "I must find someone who can actually help this little girl, someone who can take care of this child. I cannot. Not as I am. Not as what I am. She must go, it is best for her." These thoughts strengthened his resolve, but deep within him he ached at the thought of leaving this little girl in the hands of strangers.

It was not so much that he loved her, that feeling would grow over time. He simply felt responsible for her because of what he had done to her mother.

This was an odd feeling for Sabastian. He lived alone and preferred it that way. Some of his kind formed little groups, covens is what they were called. He did not like covens. He had been in many in his early life. At that point he was weak and living in a group offered him some form of protection. None of the covens he was involved with, however, lasted very long. Some discord caused the members to fight with each other.

Now that he was more powerful, he didn't need the protection of a group. In fact, he could destroy most of the covens that existed throughout the city if he so chose. They knew that and left him alone so long as he left them alone. And he did leave them alone, despite the ridiculous governance body they had created and the silly rules they attempted to enforce. The governance body, which consisted of the heads of the three strongest covens, called itself the Tribunal.

The Tribunal had initially attempted to involve Sabastian in its business, but he refused. He didn't want to bother himself in another group that would eventually disband. He had seen similar governance attempts in the past and all had failed within a short period of time.

The Tribunal, though, seemed to be different. It had persisted despite conflict and change within its members. Perhaps it was the time in which they lived that allowed the Tribunal to survive, Sabastian didn't really care.

For the most part, the rules were common sense. None of them interfered with his lifestyle so he simply didn't care about them. He had, however, broken one rule that night: Never let anyone find your victims. Although Sabastian wasn't thinking about the rule at that moment, or the body that the police had just found in an ally in lower Manhattan, the Tribunal was well aware that someone had broken their rules.

Chapter Six:

In the brownstone, though really a white building, Sabastian took Susan into a parlor filled with books. It wasn't a library, but every wall had a bookcase. The couch, chairs, and tables were covered with reading material. Books, magazines, newspapers filled the room. There was only one empty space, a rocking chair with a lamp next to it.

"Stay here," Sabastian told Susan, as he cleared a portion of the couch.

"Yes."

"You can read this," he said as he handed her that day's edition of The New York Times.

"I can't read this," she said, though she took it anyway. "Do you have any crayons?"

"Any what?"

"Crayons?"

"No. Will a pencil do?"

"Sure," she answered with a smile and wiggle.

Sabastian walked over to his desk and got a pencil. On handing it to her, he said, "I have to go find something, stay here."

"I want you to draw with me," she said, looking up at him with a smile.

"I need to..." he trailed off. "Fine, I will stay for a moment."

Shifting to the floor in front of the couch, Susan spread out the paper and began to draw on it. At first Sabastian was tempted to say something like, "You cannot draw on that, it is The New York Times" or "That is for reading, not drawing," but he didn't. He simply stood and watched as this small child drew crude pictures on the newspaper.

After a few moments, she looked up and patted the ground next to her. Without thinking, he sat down next to Susan on the floor in front of the couch. She slid across the floor so that the entire side of her body was touching his.

At first Sabastian attempted to move away, assuming that, as a child, she wasn't aware that she had encroached on his space, but as he shifted his position so did Susan. "I suppose she wishes to sit this close," he thought. "How odd."

Chapter Seven:

Although most children would have gotten bored very quickly with drawing, especially if they had only a pencil, Susan did not. She was used to entertaining herself and she was used to having very little with which to be entertained.

Susan was so self sufficient because her mother was not particularly attentive. In fact, it often seemed as though Susan's mother didn't even care that Susan existed. Perhaps this was because her mother was a drug addict or the fact that she didn't even know who Susan's father was. Maybe her mother grew up in a bad situation and simply didn't know how to be a good parent. Whatever the reason, Susan was very good at being left to her own devices.

As she was drawing she talked. She often did this to keep herself company. She felt very lonely when there was no noise, and talking comforted her. Sabastian simply sat and listened.

She was talking about what she was drawing and then spoke to the drawings, interacting with them as if they were friends. She would draw two or three things on a page and have them talk to each other.

Her stories were not fanciful daydreams about castles and princes or oversized animals and their owners, they were a sad recounting of things she had been told by her mother.

She said things like, "I told you to shut up," and "I don't love you, I don't even want you." The worst things she said involved her mother negotiating with someone for drugs. This scene involved bartering Susan, and visibly shook Sabastian.

The images she drew were also painful to see. They recounted events in Susan's life that were nearly unspeakable, but mostly centered around abuse and an absent and unloving mother.

Eventually Sabastian had heard enough. There was nothing he could do to help this little girl, she needed to be with someone else.

"Susan," he said quietly, "I have to go look for something. I will be right back."

"Sure," she answered looking up with a smile.

Having been privy to her inner thoughts, it was little wonder to Sabastian that Susan hadn't been more upset at her mother's demise. He now felt that, perhaps, he had actually done this little girl a favor.

Chapter Eight:

Sabastian walked up to the second floor. Although most people would have had bedrooms on this floor of the brownstone, it was mostly storage. Sabastian slept in the basement of the building and lived on the first floor. The third floor was, essentially, empty.

"I need one of those yellow books with the addresses in them," he said out loud as he took the last step.

He was, of course, speaking of the phone book. Although he had never had a phone, the books had been thrown at his door regardless. Something of a packrat, for years he had simply put them in a room and forgotten about them until he realized they had a value.

He actually consulted the books from time to time when he was particularly interested in a person. It impressed him that he could simply look up a name and find where the person lived. "What wonders this time has," he would say every time he looked in the book.

It made sense to keep them near the maps because once Sabastian found a person's address, he could shift gears and actually find their location on a map. He thought that it would be more useful to look up an address and then find the person that lived at the address, but that was more an aspect of his needs. And, since he didn't have a phone, he didn't realize you could ask the operator for this information or, for the more technically savvy, use the Internet for the reverse look up.

Tracking people was something of a pastime for Sabastian. He was old, and no longer needed to feed every day. In fact, he could go weeks without feeding. It was now more sport than necessity. There were times, such as tonight, when he simply found a victim, but with others he would build up to the kill. He would spend months, even years, tracking a victim and plotting a way to make them "disappear" so that no one would question their death. This room was often the start of the process.

You could see the maps and lists for each victim bundled in neat little packages. He kept every one of them. While some of his kind only relished the kill, Sabastian relished the hunt. In fact, there were times when he hunted, but did not kill. Although he didn't dwell on these endeavors or on the reasons why he chose not to take his victim, it was his humanity that stopped him.

It was that same humanity that stopped him from killing Susan. It caused him to want to find someone to take care of her instead of leaving her alone on the street. After thinking the idea through, however, he realized that most, if not all, realistic options would be closed at two o'clock in the morning. He had to make a choice, keep Susan for the day or bring her to the police.

Chapter Nine:

Sabastian knew that keeping Susan for the day meant he would have a person wandering unchecked about his home. Although she was young, it could be very dangerous for him—and her. If he turned her in to the police, he would likely be asked questions for which he wouldn't have satisfactory answers. This would expose him to dangers from a different angle. And he would have to wrap things up quickly to be back before dawn.

It was during this internal debate that Sabastian remembered the body he had left in the alley.

"No, no, no," he said, chastising himself for making such a stupid mistake. He had left it completely exposed in the middle of the alley. Sabastian decided that he should hurry back to the alley and hope that no one had found the body, though he doubted he would be so lucky.

"The child, what do I do with the child? I can leave her here, but then I must keep her for the day. I could still drop her at a police station, but I don't have time to spend explaining things about her and myself to a police officer. I have no choice, she must remain with me."

He ran down the stairs and into the living room. He found that Susan had moved herself to the couch and was sleeping. "Thank God for small blessings," he thought as he grabbed a blanket and put it over her. She was sound asleep.

Moving quickly, he left the house and headed downtown. He ran, knowing that it would be quicker than taking a subway.

As he approached the alley, he saw police lights and knew it was too late. He walked slowly up to the small crowd that had gathered and watched what was happening.

Turning to a bystander, he asked, "What is going on?"

Chapter Ten:

The bystander told Sabastian that a woman had been killed in the alley and that rumor had it she had been drained of all of her blood. This, of course, was no surprise to Sabastian being that he had killed the woman. The man went on to explain that the police had been asking questions about the woman but that no one seemed to know her.

This was a comfort to Sabastian. He had sensed that she was a loner, though he didn't realize she had a child, and killed her because he believed no one would notice if she went missing. That said, leaving the body for the police to find changed everything. But at least there wasn't anyone to talk about Susan.

He watched as the police went about examining the murder scene. They were taking the obvious steps, blood samples, photos and the like. One detective, however, was focusing a great deal of attention on the woman's neck.

"This is some job," he said to the photographer. "Ever see anything like it?"

"No," was the reply as the photographer snapped another photo. "There are no other wounds and practically no blood around the wound or the body. It's like she was sucked dry from that one spot.

"Like a vampire or something," joked the photographer, as he looked up at the detective.

"Well, I don't know if I believe that, but I'm sure that's what the papers will say tomorrow," responded the detective. "I can read it now, 'Vampire in Manhattan!' The captain's going to love it."

"I'm just glad I'm not the one who has to report to him," said the photographer with a wry smile.

"Thanks, I'm glad to know you care about me. Hey, could you take a few of the crowd?"

"Why?"

"Being that I don't believe in vampires, I'm guessing some real sick son of a B did this. I doubt he's dumb enough to leave the body. He wanted us to find it. He wants us to believe he's a vampire. I think he's in there watching, getting his rocks off."

"I see what your saying, John. That's why they made you detective and why I just take pictures."

"No, you take pictures because you're scared of getting shot. Be subtle about the photos, I don't want it to be too obvious."

"I am the model of smooth," the photographer responded, with a little hand gesture. Then, under his breath, he noted, "You're right about the getting shot bit. It's much safer behind the lens of a camera. I don't have to deal with the sicko that did this."

Chapter Eleven:

The photographer wasn't smooth enough, Sabastian noticed that photos were being taken of the crowd. He didn't do anything, however, knowing that any attempt to avoid his picture being taken would raise suspicion.

Two others in the crowd had noticed the photos, too. They were members of the Tribunal's staff known as Enforcers. Their job was much like that of the police, only that it pertained to Tribunal matters. This was one such matter.

Sabastian knew they were in attendance, but didn't pay much attention because they posed little threat to him. What concerned him was that he had left evidence that would lead the police to him.

"Leaving the body was bad, but what else was there?" he asked himself. "Finger prints, clothing, foot prints? I will deal with the body when they take it to the morgue. That will be easy enough. But the evidence they have collected, that will be harder to find and destroy.

"One step at a time. Get rid of the body and then worry about the other things," he said to himself.

The Enforcers were having a similar conversation about the evidence, except they weren't intending to wait for the body to arrive at the morgue before starting to clean up Sabastian's mess. While Sabastian would attempt to destroy the evidence without harming anyone, the Enforcers didn't feel any such need.

Chapter Twelve:

Sabastian decided he would follow as the body was taken to the morgue. As he set out, he noticed that only one Enforcer remained and wondered if the other had gone to tell the Tribunal of this event. Although he was generally unconcerned about the Tribunal, it could be a nuisance if the group decided to confront him.

Following at a relatively safe distance on foot, Sabastian watched as a passenger car turned into the vehicle delivering the body, forcing it down a side street and eventually onto the sidewalk. The driver from the passenger car leapt out and shot the other drivers. He then opened the rear where the body was located, threw something inside, and disappeared down the alley. As Sabastian came closer to the scene, first one vehicle and then the other exploded.

"Well," he said out loud, "that takes care of the body." Although he was relieved that he no longer needed to worry about the body, it concerned him that it was handled so poorly. This action would surely bring more attention to the incident, not make it go away.

As Sabastian began to head home, he realized that only one Enforcer had handled this job—the other one was still at the scene when he left to follow the body. He wondered what the other Enforcer was up to. Assuming that whatever the second Enforcer was doing would be as bad, if not worse, than what the first had done, Sabastian decided he must try to find him.

If he were to truly clean up this mess, it was likely that it would require cleaning up the mess left behind by the Tribunal's Enforcers as well.

Chapter Thirteen:

Having headed back to the alley to find the other Enforcer, Sabastian saw that the police were wrapping things up. The detective was getting into his car, and two police officers were left to clean up the crime scene. The second Enforcer, however, was nowhere to be found.

"He must be going after the detective," Sabastian thought.

He decided he would follow the detective a short distance and then warn him before the Enforcer could do anything. Although it might have been easier to simply let the man die, if the body disappeared and then the detective assigned to the case, it could further complicate matters. Besides, Sabastian did not want any more deaths on his hands.

After about three blocks, Sabastian ran ahead of the detective's car and simply stood in its path.

"What the heck's wrong with you?" John screamed out of the window as his car came to a screeching halt. Sabastian walked up to the car's bumper.

"Get out of the way," he yelled, adding some graphic profanity for effect. Sabastian stood his ground.

"O.K. buddy," the detective ranted as he got out of his car. "I told you to move on, get out of the way!

"What, are you on something? I'm a cop. Move!"

"Your life is in danger," Sabastian said quietly, while looking around for the second Enforcer.

"What?"

"I said your life is in danger."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, but there are people who want you dead because of what you know."

"What the heck are you talking about?" the detective asked, again adding a string of curses that would make most men blush.

"The incident with the woman. Her body has already been destroyed. I believe you will be targeted next."

Realizing that Sabastian wasn't going to harm him, and that he might actually know something about the case, John calmed down and asked him to explain in more detail.

"All I can tell you is that some people do not want you, or anyone, to look into the death of that woman. It is best if you leave the city for awhile and forget about what happened tonight."

"Forget that some sick nut case killed a woman and drained all of her blood? I can't do that. And what do you mean the body has already been destroyed?"

"Call the morgue and ask if the body has arrived. You will find that it has not. Now I recommend that you leave the city without delay."

"I'm going to check this morgue thing out, you stand right there," he said as he reached into the car to grab his cell phone.

Sabastian was gone by the time he had turned around.

Chapter Fourteen:

A bit confused about the strange encounter, John contacted the morgue. He was informed that the body had not yet arrived. "How the heck did that guy know the body hadn't arrived?" he asked himself as he headed to the stationhouse. "And where the heck did he go?" He was starting to doubt that the encounter had even happened, though he knew very well that it had.

Sabastion, meanwhile, continued to follow him at a distance. He felt that the detective would be safe once he arrived at the police station. Not even the Tribunal's henchmen were stupid enough to attack someone in a police station. And dawn was nearing, which meant the detective would be safe at least until the next evening. Perhaps he would heed Sabastian's warning and leave town.

On the way to the station, John passed the site of the accident, which by this time was surrounded by fire trucks and police cars.

He pulled over and got out. "What happened here?" he asked an officer.

"We're not sure. Witnesses say that the sedan ran into the hearse and forced it into the side street. Then the guy driving the sedan got out, shot a couple of rounds into the other car, ran around back, and blew the thing up."

"What?"

"Yeah, it sounds nuts. Who the heck would blow up a car with a stiff in it? I think one of the gas tanks caught on fire after the accident. But we won't be able to tell anything until they get the fire put out."

"Thanks," John said, a bit shaken, as he walked back to his car. He was shocked further when he saw Sabastian standing on the far side of his car.

"I told you," Sabastian said.

"How did you know?"

"I watched it happen."

"And you didn't try to stop it?"

"I could not stop it."

"Why should I trust you? Maybe you were the one who set the thing on fire to hide the body?"

"Think what you wish. I am only here to tell you that your life is in danger."

At that point, John's cell phone rang. "John Lewis," he answered.

"What? I just saw him, how can he be dead?"

"The photographer," Sabastian said out loud. "They went after the photographs. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Hold on, hold on," John said to the caller. "What do you mean?" he asked Sabastian.

Chapter Fifteen:

"The photographs would be more important than you," Sabastian said to John. "I can not believe I missed that. Your photographer not only had pictures of the body, which could prove what happened, but he also took pictures of the crowd."

"You saw that?"

"Yes, he was not very discreet about it. Those pictures could be damaging."

"Hold on, who are you?"

"My name is Sabastian."

"What do you have to do with all of this?"

"I am here to warn you."

"That doesn't mean anything to me."

Sabastian did not respond.

John wasn't sure what to do. "I'm confused. We find a dead lady in an alley that's been sucked dry by some twisted nut case and now the body and the photos have been destroyed. Not to mention that three more people have been killed in the process. Now you show up to warn me?

"This is where you tell me what's going on and what you have to do with all of this?"

"The woman's body was accidentally left where it could be found. It was a mistake. Like you, these people noticed that mistake. They are attempting to protect themselves by covering it up."

"So these people you are talking about killed the woman?"

"I did not say that, I only said they were attempting to cover up the death. It exposes them."

"What do you mean it exposes them?"

Ignoring the question, Sabastian continued, "If you wish to live, I urge you to leave the city tomorrow. You will be safe during the day."

"What? I'm not leaving. I'm going to nail these guys."

"I will not protect you."

"I don't need your protection. Tell me, what do you have to do with all of this?"

"I told you, I am simply here to warn you of the danger you are in."

"Thanks, how about helping me catch these guys?"

"I will not do that," Sabastian said as he started to move away. He was beginning to regret warning the detective. He should have let the enforcers do their job. In years past he wouldn't have minded the killings, but things were changing. He didn't want any more people to be hurt by his mistake, but he knew this was not over yet. Indeed, the Tribunal would likely send its enforcers to kill more people to cover this mess up and then they would turn their attention to him. Sabastian turned to walk away.

"Where are you going?"

Stopping, Sabastian answered, "I have accomplished what I set out to do. Leave if you wish to live." At that, he moved so quickly that it appeared to John that he had simply disappeared.

Chapter Sixteen:

Befuddled by his second exchange with Sabastian, John got back into his car and finished his phone conversation, which didn't provide him with any information beyond the news of the photographer's death. After hanging up, frustrated at not knowing more about what was going on around him, he took out his notebook and started to sketch Sabastian's picture and write some descriptive notes about the stranger. He wanted his image of Sabastian to be fresh, as he obviously had something to do with the case.

By the time he had completed this task, the car fire had been extinguished. He walked over to the scene and spoke with some of the fire fighters.

"What's it look like?" he asked one.

"Everything's pretty badly damaged."

"Did you guys see any bodies in the fire?"

"If there were, they're cremated. The fire was so fierce that the metal started to melt in some places. Two of our guys had to head to the hospital because of smoke inhalation."

"Do you think it was arson?"

"I don't know, but the fire was intense. More intense than I would have expected."

John thanked the fireman and headed to the police station to find out more about the photographer. With the body destroyed, the evidence in the case was disappearing fast. He hoped that the photos were still intact, but had a bad feeling that they, too, were gone. He went directly to the Chief to ask what had happened.

"We're not sure, but it looks like his car just blew up," the Chief told him.

"What? The car with the body in it blew up, too. Was anything left?"

"Left? They still haven't gotten the fire out. It spread to a storefront and now half a city block is on fire. It's a mess."

"Damn! This isn't right Chief, first the body gets incinerated in a car accident and now the photos. Someone is trying to kill this case."

"The body was lost in a car accident? That does sound a bit too coincidental."

"Yeah," John answered in utter frustration. "I'm not sure what to do. I've got nothing to work with but my notes and whatever the responding police officer remembers."

"Well, get out there right now and talk with him. Something isn't right here and we don't want him to blow up in a car, too. Tell him to be careful while you're at it."

"Chief," he said hesitantly, "I had a strange encounter after I left the scene."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, this weirdo stopped me and told me that my life was in danger. He knew the body was gone before I did. He told me that there were people trying to cover up the woman's death."

"Where is he, you brought him in, right?" the Police Chief asked sarcastically, knowing that the answer would be "no" by the way John had told him about the stranger.

"That's the thing, he just disappeared. I saw him twice and both times he just vanished. Out of thin air, Chief. He just disappeared."

"That's nuts, people don't just disappear."

"I know. I had better get in touch with the officer that found the body."

"John, you want me to assign you somebody?"

"No, I'll be OK."

"Just the same, you be extra careful on this one. Something's not right here. No John Wayne, you hear me?"

John said, "Yes daddy," as he left the Chief's office.

John Wayne was his nickname around the station because he had a bad habit of taking things on alone. Things that most people wouldn't even consider with half the force in tow. It had won him praise and ridicule, but most of all respect. When John Lewis came by on business, everyone knew it was serious.

Chapter Seventeen:

After leaving John to fend for himself, Sabastian sped home to deal with his young boarder. There was, however, a great deal more on his mind than just Susan.

For starters, he knew that it was only a matter of time before the Tribunal figured out that he was responsible for the body. That meant it was only a matter of time before they came looking for him. Although the Tribunal did not scare him, it was a complication that he did not need. All too often the Tribunal's henchmen, the Enforcers, made things worse—and so far they had made a rather large mess of the present situation.

Plus, he had spoken with the detective. If one of the Enforcers had noticed this, he would be blamed for breaching a second Tribunal rule: do not let humans know we exist. While Sabastian did not explain anything about himself or the "group" of which he spoke, that would make little difference to the Tribunal.

And, of course, by warning the police officer, he dragged yet another party into the picture. He doubted that John would listen to his warning. Further, he feared that John would attempt to dig deeper into the case. That would be bad for John and Sabastian since Sabastian was really the only lead the detective had left.

All of these concerns, though, would have to wait. Right now Sabastian had to figure out what to do with Susan before the dawn. Standing over her watching her slowly inhale and exhale, he wondered if he should wake her and lock her in a room on the third floor. He thought that it might be cruel to do so, but it would be the best way to keep himself and Susan safe.

Although this option would stop her from exploring the house, it would also lock her off from the kitchen. While there wasn't much to eat or drink in the house since Sabastian didn't need food, there was some. At times he brought victims home before killing them—having food in the kitchen made the house look less suspicious.

No, he had to allow her the run of the house. Sabastion did not know when she had last eaten and it seemed inappropriate to lock her in a room without any sustenance. And, for some odd reason, he didn't want to put food in the room for her because he wasn't sure what she might like to eat. He did not dwell on these thoughts, but they bordered on maternal—something he would deny if it were ever suggested.

He decided, instead, to lock the house so she could not leave. This would allow her to eat and drink as she saw fit, but would keep her from drawing attention to him. Of course, there was the problem that she was locked inside the house with Sabastian, a fact that could lead to her untimely death if she were to wake him, but he felt that there was no other choice.

Having made that decision, he wondered if he should wake her and tell her. This was thorny for Sabastian. If he woke her up, she would likely ask questions. If he didn't, she might panic.

In the end, he decided it was best to leave her asleep. He went to the basement, shutting the door and double checking the lock.

Chapter Eighteen:

Both Susan and the detective were active the next day. Susan, as Sabastian expected, went on a tour of the house. John, also as expected, went about trying to solve the strange murder that had fallen in his lap.

Susan's first exploit was breakfast. She managed a glass of water and some dry cereal. Sabastian didn't keep much in the way of perishable food in the house because it would all spoil. Dry goods such as pasta and cereals, canned and jarred items such as pasta sauce and soup, and canned and bottled liquids such as soda and wine were the main staples he had. This proved sufficient for Susan, as she wasn't used to eating well anyway. After eating, she wondered where Sabastian was. Her first stop was a brief search of the first floor.

She went from room to room, spending a little time looking through each. The first floor was mainly a dining room, kitchen, living room, and foyer. There were assorted closets and the locked door that led to the basement, which was where Sabastian slept. She did not, however, attempt to force the basement door, which was a good thing. Since she had already been in the only room with anything of substance in it, the living room, there wasn't anything new to find on the first floor so her quest quickly moved upstairs.

The second floor had three rooms, a bathroom, and a hall closet. Each room was full of stored items. In the first, Sabastian stored old clothing. While there were some articles from his victims, the majority of the clothes in the room were items he had worn that were no longer acceptable attire. Some of the outfits were incredibly ornate while others were very simple. Susan liked the gold silky ones the best. She, of course, did not realize that they were from the early 1800s. In this room she tried on wigs and shoes and simply had a fun time wandering and searching.

In the second room, Susan found mounds and mounds of "treasure." There were stacks of money, gold bullion, watches, and jewelry. She couldn't believe her eyes. Although Sabastian frequently used the paper money, the rest was generally useless to him. And the paper money was of limited use as he had learned the hard way that he could only deposit so much at a time into a bank without arousing suspicion.

Susan, while understanding that money was valuable, spent most of her time trying on the jewelry. Jewelry is more fun than paper any day. There were some incredible artifacts in the piles, but the little girl went for the crowns and massive gaudy necklaces. She kept a few rings and a necklace as she moved on to the third room. There she found paperwork, lots of paper work. She didn't stay very long in that room—after all, paper is rather boring when you have jewelry to play with.

On the third floor, the layout was the same as the second floor. The first and second rooms were completely empty while in the third there was furniture but it was all covered with sheets. She didn't spend much time in the room because the sheets scared her.

By the time she had made a complete inventory of the house, it was early in the afternoon and she was tired and hungry. She headed back downstairs, ate more dry cereal, and took a nap on the couch.

John, meanwhile, was making far better progress with his quest.

Chapter Ninteen:

John was able to get only a couple of hours worth of fitful sleep before he couldn't stand it anymore and decided to start in on the case. Officially it was a Jane Doe case at the moment since no one knew the dead woman's name.

While getting washed and dressed, John went over the case in his mind. There wasn't much to review, however, because the body and the crime photos were destroyed. Aside from his notes, there was nothing at all to go on. There was, of course, the odd encounter with the guy who called himself Sabastian. He seemed to know a lot about what was going on, but John still wasn't sure this Sabastian even existed. For better or worse, John was the sole repository of information aside from the first officer on the scene.

John couldn't find him last night and didn't want to bother him at home so he waited until today to catch up and compare notes. So, after a quick call to the station, John arranged to meet up with the beat cop for coffee.

"So," John asked, "tell me what happened?"

"Well," the cop started, "911 got a call from some old guy from a pay phone that there was a body in the alley. We found the body, but not the guy who called. The body, as you know, was drained of all its blood. There was nothing else.

"We talked to a bunch of people, but no one knew anything. Or at least no one claimed to know anything."

"Just another dead hooker," John said.

"That's pretty much what it looked like. The only thing I'd say is that her arm was full of tracks. She tried to hide it with makeup, but she definitely had a habit."

John hadn't been paying much attention to her arms when looking at the body because of the neck wound. "Is it possible that her blood was taken out from her arms? That the neck wound was just a diversion?"

"I guess, but it would have been an awful lot of work to draw the blood, cover the marks with makeup, and drop the body off in an alley."

"True, but there were no signs of a struggle. It could have been dropped."

"You're the detective."

"Just the same, can you tell me where I might find some local heroin dealers? I'd like to talk to some of them."

The beat cop told John where to find a few of the local drug dealers and offered to go for the ride. As was his custom, John turned him down but thanked him for the offer.

"I think this case is bigger than it looks," John warned the cop. "Be extra careful for a little while."

"Right back at you John Wayne," he said with a disapproving look. Knowing John's penchant for getting into, and out of, serious scrapes, he couldn't resist the jab.

Chapter Twenty:

John "interviewed" some street dealers, but didn't get much out of them. After a quick break, he headed over to the home of one of the remaining "local drug dealers" on his short list to ask some questions. In true John Wayne fashion, he barged into the dealer's pad with his badge in the air and his gun waving.

The dealer was apparently one of his own best customers, so all the commotion did little to phase him as he drifted through his melancholy dreams. In fact, the only thing he did was fall off of his chair—with the needle still in his arm. It would have been quite comical if it weren't so sad.

"You're going to be useless," John said to the dealer as he picked his head up and looked into his empty eyes. "Still, let's get you downtown. Maybe when you come out of your little stupor you'll be able to tell me something."

After dropping the junky off to ride out his high in jail, John headed back to the alley. There was nothing left now but some yellow police tape and a white line around where the body had been found.

While movies and television give the impression that there are lots of little alleyways in New York City, the fact is that there really aren't that many. The murder actually took place on a small dead end in the financial district. It was only empty that night because the murder took place after all of the rich financial folks had gone back to their plush houses and beautiful wives.

Being Sunday, the area was still pretty devoid of human life.

"Some old man called 911," John repeated to himself. "I bet it was a bum, no one else would be down here at that time of night.

"Now, if I were a bum, where would I live?" he asked himself as he walked around the dead end street. Susan's mother was killed in the middle of the dead end, and there were a series of trash bins down near the end.

As he reached the garbage bins, he said loudly, "Knock, knock. Anybody home?" The response was a rustling from a pile of boxes resting behind the trash. "Hey in there, I'm a cop and I need to talk with you. I don't want to hurt you or take you in or anything like that. Just talk."

At that, an old woman poked her head out from the boxes. In a particularly husky voice she asked, "What do you want to talk about?"

"Did you call the police last night?"

"Maybe."

"About the body?"

"You mean the murder."

"Yes, the murder."

Chapter Twenty One:

"How about we talk about this over a cup of coffee," John suggested to the bum who took him up on the offer. "Where's a good place to get something to drink around here?" he asked.

"I never drink," the bum said with a wry laugh, "but just around the corner is a coffee shop."

They walked to the shop talking about the weather and other meaningless topics. As they entered the empty shop the guy behind the counter said, "Hey Beth, you know the rules. I'll serve you but you have to wait outside."

"She's with me," John said, flashing his badge.

"Sorry, didn't know," the owner said. "What'll ya have?"

The woman ordered herself a ham, egg and cheese on a roll with a coffee. John just got coffee.

The shop was really a small bodega. One of those places that sell just about anything you need and has a food by the pound bar in the middle. It also had a couple of seats in the back, which is where Beth and John went to sit and talk.

"So, let's cut to the chase," John said, "what did you see?"

"Everything."

"Walk me through it."

Beth started by explaining that the alley was a hot spot for couples trying to "get it on." That she was used to it, and simply didn't pay much attention anymore. This time, however, was different because of the way in which the woman said, "no." The almost pathetic tone of her voice was what first drew Beth's attention.

What shocked Beth was that the man had lifted this woman off the ground while nuzzling her neck. She was short and he was tall, so he had lifted her at least a foot or two off the ground. While this wasn't all that odd, "some people get pretty kinky," the fact that he simply dropped her in a heap on the ground was startling. Beth explained that she was frightened for her life and couldn't move. She had seen dead people before and she knew the woman was dead. She guessed that the woman's neck had been broken.

Apparently, after he had dropped the woman, a little girl came running down the alley. She came over to the body and said something to the man. Beth was too far away to hear anything, but they sat near the body for a little while talking every so often.

Then, all of the sudden, the two of them got up and left. After she was sure the man was gone, Beth came out of her home and looked at the body. She made the call to the police shortly after that.

"Finally," John though, I have something to work with.

0022
After watching Beth eat her ham, egg and cheese, John decided it was time to sober up the drug dealer. He gave the woman a twenty and headed out the door. Before leaving, however, he bought some antacid tablets; seeing Beth eat made him feel a bit nauseous since she didn't even bother to wash her hands first and obviously didn't understand the value of napkins.

Before he got back into his car, John paused to take one more look around the scene. When he was dealing with killers, he often found it useful to try to get "into the killer's head." Normally, this entailed sitting with the evidence, but he didn't have that to go on so the best he could do was the alley.

"Why here?" he asked himself. "Of all places, why here?

"The bum said that prostitutes and couples looking to hook up used this alley. She was a drug addict. Fine, she sold her body for drugs. He picked her up to kill her. That's too simple, there has to be more."

As he stood there looking at where the body was found, all he had were more questions. Why drain all of her blood? Why leave the body where it could be found? Why destroy the body and all the photos after the body was found? Was that freak last night, Sabastian, involved? Who were the people that didn't want this case to be solved that Sabastian spoke about? How could he find Sabastian?

"There has to be a reason why he chose her. The way he killed her was too sick, if this was a one-time thing it was probably some sort of sick revenge. If it wasn't revenge, this guy might kill again. No, this guy will kill again."

He knew that answering most of these questions and solving the case would be difficult, but he felt deep down that he had to stop the killer or more people would die.

Although his talk with Beth was interesting, there wasn't much of value to him. She couldn't even give a good description of the killer other than he was tall and thin. The one thing the bum said that would help him was the little girl. That was an odd twist.

He didn't know for certain, but emotionally he felt that the little girl was the woman's daughter. Was the killer the father? Why wasn't the girl afraid of the killer? Although this new information added more questions to the equation, John hoped it would be a good starting point with the junkie.

0023
By the time he got back to the station it was early afternoon. John had the junkie moved to an interrogation room. While he was no longer high, as such, he was still out of it.

"Alright buddy," John began, "let's start with your name."

"Wayne Cashman."

"Wayne, what do you do for a living?"

"Come on, man, what do you want from me?"

"I want some answers. Now, what do you do, Wayne?"

"I'm not talking until I get a lawyer."

"You are a drug dealer," John said very calmly. "That makes you a very bad man."

Wayne looked at one of the walls.

"I know you're a drug dealer, everyone in this station knows you're a drug dealer. I could go, right now, clean out your apartment and send you to jail for a very long time."

Wayne continued looking at the wall because he knew this game already. Push the little guy to get to the big guy. Of course that normally meant the little guy died once the big guy's friends figured out who the snitch was.

"Wayne, there was a murder last night. Do you know anything about that?"

A bit nervous, Wayne blurted out, "I have never killed anyone. I may sell dope for a living, but I have never killed anyone."

"Relax Wayne," John comforted him, "I don't think you did. But I need your help to find out who did kill someone." John knew at this point that Wayne would talk. He would give John any information he had.

It was obvious that Wayne had gotten got caught up in something that he couldn't handle. Now, years latter, it was too late. It made John sad to see kids like Wayne. Scared to go on, but too addicted to get out. It seemed like the addiction always won.

It was typical, too, for someone like Wayne to draw a line between being a killer and selling drugs. Even though plenty of people he sold to have probably died, he still had to cling to the idea that he only gave them what they wanted. If they didn't come to him, someone else would have given them the drugs. It's a sick world where people can justify themselves with that kind of logic. Although it normally took a little more arm-twisting, John was used to getting information out people like Wayne.

0024
"Last night the body of a young woman was found in an alley down in the financial district. She had tracks on her arms so we think she was a heroin addict. We don't have much to go on. I was hoping you could help us figure out who she is."

"What do you want me to do, identify the body?" Wayne asked with a wavering voice. It was clear he didn't like the idea of seeing a dead person.

"That's the problem. The body's gone. All I have is a description."

With obvious relief Wayne said, "I'll try, man, but I know lots of people." Knowing lots of people was clearly a euphemism for having lots of clients.

"Well, this one was probably in her mid to early twenties. She was a brunette, cute. She had strong features and blue eyes."

"I can't help you."

"She may have had a daughter."

"Jane, " he said softly.

"What?"

"If it's who I think it is, her name was Jane," answered Wayne louder this time.

"She was a real bad case. I stopped selling to her a little while back. I couldn't do it anymore after she tried to trade the girl for smack." He wiped his mouth with his hand. "She used to turn tricks with the Wall Street type for cash. She had their look and their language. She told me once she was from some town up in Westchester."

"Tell me some more about what she looked like."

"She was average height, maybe a little shorter. Brown hair down to her shoulders. Real pretty face. Like you said, strong features. Great cheek bones. And those eyes. So blue. You could tell she wasn't just anyone. That she was from the good side of town, if you know what I mean. That if she hadn't gotten into using smack she'd have been a cheerleader or something.

"Last I knew she was shooting into her right arm. When I first met her, she was trying to hide the marks by shooting between her toes, but last I knew she was just into getting high."

"The right arm?" asked John. That was, indeed, the arm that had the worst of the track marks.

"Yeah, she mostly used the right side."

"Let's assume we're talking about the same person. Tell me everything you know."

0025
Wayne's story wasn't pleasant.

He was pretty sure that Jane's last name was Angle. She was from some rich town in the northern suburbs of New York. While he couldn't remember exactly where, he remembered it had something to do with food. John knew a little about Westchester and asked if it was Rye.

"Yeah," answered Wayne, "I think that was it." John was relieved that he finally had something more to go on, but asked Wayne to continue.

He went on to explain that Jane had told him that she grew up with rich parents and never felt that she could live up to their image of her. At some point she simply stopped trying. Things got even worse when she started doing drugs.

Nothing serious at first, it was just easier to get pot than alcohol. But it didn't stop at pot, she tried harder drugs like cocaine and, eventually, heroin. By the time she was 17, she was spending more time on the streets of New York getting high than she did at school.

Her parents knew there was a problem, but they didn't do anything until it was too late. Wayne commented that this was a typical story. John figured that Wayne's story followed a similar path, only he wasn't dead yet.

When the family confronted the issue, they threw her into rehab. Wayne had met her just prior to this. He said he didn't see her for a while after she was in rehab because she tried to clean herself up. While she was still using, he explained, she had become pregnant. She would have sex with dealers for drugs, including Wayne. He said he didn't think the kid was his, but the thought that it might be was always in the back of his mind. That, apparently, was why he stopped selling to her when she offered the kid up for sex. But he said Jane told him she really tried to make it work for her child, Susan.

After the kid was born, she spent some time at home, but eventually left because she didn't get along with her parents. She took Susan with her.

She moved back into the city and started working in some tattoo parlor as a receptionist. That was when their paths met for the second time. He said that the owner let Jane bring her child to work and everyone seemed really supportive there.

The only problem was that the tattoo culture and the drug culture tend to overlap. She started using again. First it was pot but then she started to come back to Wayne. The folks over at the tattoo shop tried to stop her, but they couldn't do anything and wound up firing her. She then tried working as a waitress, but that didn't work either.

That was when she started turning tricks—for cash this time, not just for drugs. When she'd get money, she would do drugs. When she remembered, she would feed her child. Wayne said that he had tried to help, but looking down at his tattered arms, explained that he doubted he did any good since he wasn't in much better shape than Jane.

The last he saw of Jane was a few months ago when she offered up Susan. Wayne said he asked her if she had done it before—she said yes and that it was no big deal.

0026
With a full name and some additional information, John headed off to the computers. He figured he would find something on the victim, and he certainly did. Jane was well known in NYPD's hallowed halls. Her offenses included loitering, drug possession, shop lifting, and prostitution, among others. Some of her records were sealed because she was underage when the offenses took place. Interestingly, there was no mention of a daughter.

The photos, however, were a definite match, Jane Angle was the victim—John was sure of it. It made him sad to look at the photos because you could see a progression from the early photos to the most recent, which was just a month or so old. She was headed down a dark path and it finally killed her. John had seen this before and there was nothing that anyone could have done about it. She didn't want help, she wanted to die.

Other than a sense of what the dead woman was like, John found the names, phone number, and address of her parents. He decided he should make a phone call and try to arrange a visit.

"Hello," a woman's voice answered after a couple of rings.

"Hi, is this Mary Angle?" John asked.

"Yes, who is this?"

"My name is Detective John Lewis, I'm with the New York City Police Department."

"Oh God, is she alright?"

John was bad at this part of the job, but he knew it had to be done. "No Mrs. Angle, I'm sorry but your daughter is dead." After listening to Jane's mother sob for several minutes, John continued, "Mrs. Angle, I would like to come and talk with you and your husband about your daughter."

Mrs. Angle told him that he could come up that night if he wanted, though she was barely coherent and John wondered if she would remember she had agreed to his visit when he showed up. Still, he wanted to talk with Jane's family as soon as possible because he felt it might fill in some blanks that would help him solve the case.

John stopped in with the Chief, updated him on the case, and told him where he was going. On his way out the door, he got another, "Be careful."

As he was getting onto Interstate 95 headed North toward Westchester, John noted that the sun was setting and turned his car's lights on. "Next stop, Playland Parkway," he said out loud to himself.

0027
As dusk fell into night, Sabastian awoke. The vivid images of the prior night danced in his mind.

He could sense the little girl in his house.

After a few moments of reflection, he changed his clothes and headed upstairs.

"Susan, dear, where are you?" he asked as he stepped from the cellar. He wasn't quite sure where the "dear" came from, but it felt nice to say.

"In here," was the reply from out of the living room.

Sabastian walked into the room to find a jewel encrusted little girl wearing oversize clothing and a diamond tiara. "I see that you found your way around the house."

Susan simply looked up and smiled.

"Was there food enough for you?"

"Yup."

"What did you eat?"

"Cereal."

"Ahh," he sounded, wondering how old the cereal must have been. "We need to find you a place to stay tonight."

"I'll stay here."

"You cannot stay here, though I would very much like it if you could. You see, I sleep during the day and you sleep at night. Not to mention that I have very little food that is suitable for little girls."

"We can buy food and I'll learn to stay up at night."

Her logic was so simple that he chose not to argue the point. "Come, I believe you should have a proper dinner."

The two of them walked up Second Avenue to The Palm steakhouse. There they ordered two strip steaks with a couple of sides. Susan ravaged her meal, while Sabastian never even touched his utensils.

"Was the meal not to your liking, sir?" the waiter asked.

"It was quite wonderful, thank you. I believe we are done, could you bring us a bowl of strawberries with a rather generous helping of your homemade whipped cream."

After Susan had completely stuffed herself, Sabastian paid and they walked back to the house. Deep inside Sabastian liked having Susan with him. He found that she gave him meaning, purpose. He had been aimlessly wandering for so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to be needed. He truly liked this feeling.

Unfortunately, he was also aware that his lifestyle was not appropriate for a little girl. The Tribunal and their henchmen, the Enforcers, were also weighing heavy on his mind.

0028
John got lost shortly after turning onto Playland Parkway. The highway, however, is what threw him. After leaving Interstate 95, Playland Parkway quickly turns into a somewhat residential road, and John simply got distracted just long enough to miss his turn. After coming to the end of the "highway," which stops at the entrance to the Playland amusement park, he swore, made a right, and pulled over.

It was late and the only things open were restaurants. He decided he had little choice but to ask for directions since he certainly didn't want to call Mary Angle again—that would be too awkward. He needed information from Mary and her husband, but he knew he was going to be on the receiving end of much more than he wanted.

The owner of the nearest restaurant sent him back up the highway three stop lights—which was all John needed to get back on the right track. After a couple of turns, he found the house and pulled into the driveway. It was huge and backed up against what he assumed was a river, though it was too dark to be certain.

Before he got out of his car, the front door of the house opened. The Angles were expecting him. He could see two figures standing in the doorway.

"Here we go," he said under his breath as he stepped out of his car and headed up the walkway.

"Mr. and Mrs. Angle?"

"Yes," responded a woman's voice.

"Hello, I'm Detective John Lewis. We spoke earlier today," John said as he neared the door.

The man put his hand out and said, "I'm Bill Angle, this is my wife Mary. You spoke with her earlier."

"Yes."

"Please, come in Detective."

John entered the house and was amazed at the interior. While he couldn't make out what the outside really looked like because it was dark, the inside was nothing short of impressive. The furniture was classic hard wood stuff, and there were fancy vases and things all over. Everything in the house looked like an antique. There were even fresh flowers, in every room. It was beautiful, spotless, and certainly expensive.

The three didn't talk much on the way into the library, which required a quick walk though the formal dining room and living room.

As John sat, Bill Angle offered him a drink, which he refused. Mr. Angle joked that he hoped John wouldn't mind if he had one even though his guest didn't. John chuckled and, obviously, said, "Of course not."

"So," Mr. Angle started after his first sip, "you're here to tell us our daughter is dead."

"I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault, she's been heading down this path for years. I assume you have Susan in a home somewhere. We will take her, of course."

"That's just it. We don't have your daughter's child."

"What!" Mary exclaimed. "Oh God, not my granddaughter, too."

"We don't know. All we found was your daughter. I didn't even know that Jane had a daughter until the day after we...," he trailed off.

Bill Angle sat down in the chair across from his wife and simply looked at the floor. Mary just cried. John was struck by the lack of connection between the two of them. It almost seemed as if there was no love in the house. It was all very nice, but it was sterile.

"This is all your fault," Mary said quietly, looking up at her husband. He started to sob. This was worse than John had imagined. He figured it would be a long night.

"I need to get as much information as possible if I'm going to find your granddaughter and, hopefully, figure out who was responsible for this," John started after several excruciatingly silent minutes.

0029
The Angles were just as Wayne Cashman had described them, rich and, by all perceptions, perfect. Mr. Angle, actually Dr. Angle, was chief of staff at the local hospital—United Hospital in Port Chester. His wife was a housewife and a prolific volunteer. They had the highest of hopes for their only child, Jane, but once she turned thirteen, it seemed like she stopped caring.

She fell in with the wrong crowd and started using drugs. The Angles "did all they could" to help her, but nothing seemed to stop her slide. Eventually she just left one night and didn't come back. The next thing they knew, the New York City Police were on the phone. She had been caught shoplifting.

They took her back and tried to get her help, but within a week she was gone again. Only this time she had stolen money from the house before she left. They tried to find her, but couldn't.

The next time they heard from her, she was pregnant. She didn't know who the father was, but she seemed like she really wanted to make things work for herself and for her child.

She had Susan and, for a little while, it looked like things were turning around. But, as usual, things didn't work and she took off again. That was the last time the Angles had seen or heard from her.

John contemplated asking about her home life, but figured there was little point. She was dead—knowing if her father abused her or if she fought constantly with her mother wouldn't bring her back. And, frankly, he didn't really care. He knew these two didn't kill their own daughter, at least not directly, and all John wanted to do was get the killer off the street. As for Jane's daughter, he would do what he could, but street kids disappear all the time in New York City.

"Do you have any recent pictures of your daughter and her child?"

"Yes," Mrs. Angle said as she got up and walked across the room. She pulled down a frame and took out the picture. It was a photo of Jane and Susan. It was a bit old, but it was better than nothing. It was odd, but they both seemed so happy in the photo that you would never guess that anything was wrong.

"I guess we'll need to make arrangements for the body," Mr. Angle said while John was looking at the photo.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Angle, your daughter's body was destroyed in a car fire as it was being taken to the morgue." This set off a new round of crying. After what he felt was an appropriate amount of time, John said, "I need to head back to the city so I can..."

"Of course. We understand," Mr. Angle interrupted.

The Angle's showed John out and watched as he got into his car. They didn't once touch each other.

Feeling a bit worn, John couldn't get up the strength for the drive to the city so he drove back to the restaurant, which had a bar, and reflected over a glass of beer.

That Jane had "given up" didn't surprise him. It was obvious that her parents were hard driving and demanding. She couldn't have lived up to any expectation because as soon as she had met one goal, there would have been another to take its place. What a life for a kid.

Although he felt he knew more about the victim, John surely was no closer to figuring out the case. The more he found out, the more it seemed she was killed at random. That would make finding the killer that much harder. He guessed that a few more people would have to die before a good trend would appear. A trend he could follow to understand why Jane was selected.

At about midnight, he headed back to New York. He wanted to check some more into Wayne Cashman's record and put Susan Angle into the missing kids file. He also wanted to look into other "bizarre" deaths that might start the trend he was looking for. Perhaps the killer was a real nut case, one of those serial types, but hid it by killing in random places or at odd times.

0030
Back at the house, Sabastian sat thinking while Susan resumed drawing. He knew he must find someone or some organization that could take care of this little girl. Having spent more time with her, however, he now wanted to be sure that she would be well taken care of—not just out of his life.

He was not, in fact, entirely sure he wanted her out of his life, but he knew that something had to happen soon or Susan's life would be in danger because of her association with him. He thought about a private school where she could stay on the school grounds, but that would require awkward paperwork and contact with the school that he could not handle properly. There would be too much suspicion.

He even thought about renting her an apartment of her own and hiring a full time nanny to watch over her. He could limit the ties with this arrangement and be absolutely certain she was getting the best possible treatment, but it was still possible that a connection between them could be made.

No, he simply had to find some other way that would not leave a trail. Not being able to trace Susan back to him was important for both of them. It would insure her safety and his.

The police were an option, in fact the one he thought best the night before, but the questions that would be asked would also be difficult to handle. Not to mention that he had spoken with the detective, which might pose a problem if someone figured out the connection. The last thing either of them needed was that policeman snooping around. Besides, Sabastian was quite sure that the Tribunal knew about the cop, and he didn't want them snooping around either.

"A hospital," he said quietly. Susan looked up from her playing.

He sat with Susan for several hours, savoring their time together. He knew it was likely that he wouldn't see her again and wanted to enjoy what little time he had.

She drew for a while and then they played dress up on the second floor. Finally, the late hour began to slow her down and she started to get sleepy.

"It is time for us to go," Sabastian told her.

"I don't want to go," she said sleepily and with a slight pout.

"Come, my dear, I will carry you."

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 31 to 40

0031
Sabastian carried his little girl down to NYU Medical Center, about 10 blocks south and a little east. He found his way to the emergency room and walked in.

"I found this little girl all alone and lost," he told the worker at the desk. "I do not know what to do with her."

Susan was asleep in his arms.

The worker, who was neither a nurse nor a doctor, was telling Sabastian that he had to take her somewhere else when a doctor came out.

"What's going on?" the young intern asked.

"I found this little girl and I cannot take care of her. I need to find a place for her."

"You should take her to the police."

"That's what I told him," the desk worker added.

"I cannot do that," he responded.

"OK, we'll take her, but I'll need a way to contact you."

Sabastian knew this was going to be the hard part, but decided that he would give this woman enough information to facilitate the interaction. For some reason, he felt he could trust her. His instincts in this regard had become quite strong over his many years, though he made a mental note that he hadn't realized Susan existed when he killed her mother. "My name is Sabastian."

"Your last name?"

"I have none."

"You have none?" asked the doctor.

"No."

"OK, how about a phone number?"

"I have no phone."

"No last name and no phone. How about an address?"

He gave her the address to his brownstone and she asked, "Is this really your address?"

"Yes, but you will only find me there at night."

"O.K."

"Please, only share this information if it is needed. I am not...," the doctor interrupted him to say, "I promise, I'll try to keep you out of this if I can."

"Thank you." He believed she would be true to her words.

While the doctor knew that something wasn't right about this situation, she also knew that it would be better for the little girl to be with someone who wanted her rather than someone who wanted to give her away. "My name is Dr. Janet Long, if you ever need or want to find me," she told Sabastian as he handed the sleeping girl to her.

"I will remember that," he said as he walked out the door.

0032
"Do you want me to call the police Dr. long?" the desk clerk asked.

"No, I'll take care of it myself," Janet responded as she walked to a back room with the sleeping girl in her arms. "What are we going to do with you?" she asked out loud.

"For starters, we put you down. You're heavy for such a little thing."

While putting Susan down, Dr. Long roused her out of her sleep.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Janet Long. Who are you?"

"My name is Susan." It surprised Janet that Susan was calm about waking up in a strange place with a person she didn't know.

"Susan, do you mind if I take a look at you?"

"O.K."

Janet did a quick physical and found that Susan appeared to be in good health.

"You're real good with kids doctor," a voice said from a corner of the room.

"Peter, how long have you been there?"

"Since you came in. Who's your friend?"

"My name is Susan."

"Where's your mom Susan?" Peter asked.

"She's dead," Susan answered without any emotion.

"How about your dad?" asked Janet, though she knew what the answer would be.

"I don't know."

"Was that your dad who brought you in?"

"Who?"

"He said his name was Sabastian," Janet clarified.

"No, he's not my father. He's Sabastian."

"What, did some guy just leave her here?" Peter whispered to Janet who nodded affirmatively.

"Have you called the cops?"

"No, I'm off shift so I'll just bring her by the station by my place on the way home," she replied, though she had no intention of doing so.

0033
Janet got Susan together as quickly as she could and headed out the door. She had no intention of taking Susan to the police and wanted as few people as possible to know about her. It was not that she wanted to do something evil or wrong, she simply wanted to protect Susan from the horrors of the system.

Janet Long was put up for adoption when she was born, but there were no takers. She bounced from foster home to foster home and hated her life. She looked at all of the other kids with families and she knew she was different because she had no family. She looked at all of the toys and clothing that the other kids had and she knew she was different because she had nothing new and nice. She looked at the joy that other kids had in their eyes and she knew she was different because she had no joy in her life. She hated being different and this hate caused a schism between her and just about everyone else.

At 16 she realized that she would never be like everyone else. She came to the conclusion that no one was going to help her, so she decided to help herself. She set her sites on becoming a doctor and never looked back—until now.

Seeing Susan brought back a flood of memories and she knew she couldn't let this little girl go through what she had to endure.

She couldn't let the system take another victim. She would provide for Susan what she never had. She had resolved this even before she left the hospital.

The situation with Sabastian bothered her, though, and she decided to check his address on the way home. She didn't want anything to linger over Susan. She wanted to sew together all of the loose ends and be done with it. She needed to do this, she thought, to best help Susan.

The interesting thing, and Janet did not fully comprehend it at the time, was that by helping Susan, she was curing the pain of her own childhood. Susan was the conduit through which Janet Long would become like all of the other people in the world. Together they could be one and nothing would stand in Janet's way. She wouldn't let anything harm the two of them.

Janet and Susan talked as they walked and it became clear that Susan had not been taken care of. Physically she was well and it was obvious that she was smart, but she was distant and didn't talk like most children her age. She spoke about adult things. Janet suspected the little girl had been abused.

When they arrived at Sabastian's home, Susan said, "This is where Sabastian lives."

Janet looked into the front courtyard for a moment when Susan said, "We can go in, he won't mind."

The two walked through the front court, into the second, and up to the front door. Janet rang the doorbell and after a few moments used the knocker. She noticed that Susan was watching her with her head tilted. "What is it?"

"He's asleep you know. He won't wake up for anything until it's dark."

Janet remembered that Sabastian had mentioned something like that and decided she would just take Susan home so they could both get some rest. She would try again another day.

0034
At about eight the next morning, John was roused out of a deep sleep by his Chief.

"How long you been here John?" the Chief asked.

"That depends on what time it is now."

"About eight."

"All night," John answered while rubbing his eyes.

"That dead girl's got you all worked up, doesn't she?"

"Not the girl, the killer."

"You mean the 'vampire'," the Chief said making a monster face.

"Yeah, the vampire."

"Well, son, you aren't going to track him down if you don't get some rest. Go home, and that's an order."

"Yes sir," John said as he collected his things.

"By the way, Williams died in a shootout last night."

"What?" John said in shock. "He's the one who found the girl."

"I know. It seems like you're the only one left who knows anything about the case."

"First the body, then the photos and photographer, and now the responding officer. Something is going on here."

"We don't know much about Williams yet, but I tend to agree with you. That's why I'm sending a couple of guys home with you—just in case."

"Normally I'd refuse, but I guess that's an order, too."

"Yes, even John Wayne needs someone to watch his back once in a while."

With two officers in tow, John headed home for some much-needed sleep—in a real bed. When they arrived, John tried to wave his chaperones on but they were under orders to go up to his apartment with him.

"What, are you going to tuck me in, too?" John asked jokingly.

"Yeah, and read you a bedtime story," one of the officers shot back. The three of them got a kick out of the joke.

When they got to the door, John unlocked it and pushed it open to reveal a ransacked apartment. "What the...," he said as he was pushed aside by his bodyguards who headed in with guns drawn. John followed with his.

"Whoever did this isn't here anymore," said one of the officers. "Chief said to call him if anything unusual turned up. If this doesn't qualify, then I think these tiger striped briefs will." He had used the tip of his gun to pick up a pair of John's underwear.

"Hey, the chicks love them," John retorted. He started to look around to see if anything was stolen. "It doesn't look like they took anything."

When the officer got off the phone with the chief, he said they were to hightail it back to the station. John protested, explaining that he wanted to look around some more, but was informed that the chief had given orders to cuff him if he resisted.

"What!"

"Orders are orders, John. He seems pretty worried, we had better get going."

0035
Back at the station, John headed directly for the Chief's office. "What's going on?" he demanded as he stormed in.

"Are these all the files you have on this case?" asked the Chief.

"Yeah, but what's going on?"

"After you left, we got a report of a body in the alley where the girl was found. It was a bum. Her head was shot off."

"Beth," John said softly. He felt bad for her. She hadn't done anything to deserve being killed.

"I assumed it was the bum you spoke with, too. But since she no longer has a face, I don't know that you'll be able to give a positive identification.

"John, everyone involved with this case is dead except you. That means one of two things. Either you're the killer or you're next. I've known you long enough to know that you aren't the killer. That means I have to protect you from getting killed."

"I'll be fine, I can't drop this case because of this," John protested, sensing what was next. "This guy is going to kill again."

"I'll rot in hell before I let you die on this one.

"What did that nut job tell you—there are people who want to cover the murder up. He said your life is in danger and I'm inclined to believe him. And, for once in your life, you're going to listen to a warning.

"You are on paid leave. Give me your gun and badge."

"What! You can't do this. More people are going to die."

"Well, it's not your case anymore. In fact, here are two plane tickets. You're spending your paid leave in Florida. Here are the keys to my condo. Enjoy the break and I'll see you in six months."

"This is going too fast, Chief. What is going on?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you. But I have a bad feeling about this case and I'm not going to see you killed over it.

"Look John," he said in a less heated tone, "we've worked together for years. I brought you here because you're good. I care for you like you were my own son. Your dad and I were close, and you and I are close. I have a bad feeling. If you stay, I think you're as good as dead. I can't let that happen.

"Maybe I'm being too emotional, but so be it. You're out of this one. I'll give the case to someone else or maybe I'll just let it die before it kills more of my men. I don't know yet. But you are out and you are going to sit for six months on the beach in Florida if I have to send you down in hand cuffs."

"I think you're wrong on this, Chief."

"I knew you would feel that way before you walked through the door."

"I don't have any choice in this?"

"No. I'll have two guys go back to your place and search it over. Because it's a crime scene you'll have to buy new cloths when you get down to my condo. Besides, I don't want you going back where someone might find you. You can borrow some of my stuff if you need to." At that, he called in the two cops who took John home and told them to see him on to the plane to Florida. They were literally ordered to stay with him until he got on the plane and then watch it take off.

John didn't like what was going on, he had a feeling that the Chief knew more than he was saying. Still, John knew that the Chief had his best interests in mind. If the Chief was concerned enough to fly him to Florida, John figured he should listen. He had never done anything like this before, so the precedent held meaning. Besides, it was go peacefully or go in handcuffs—John didn't feel there was much of a choice.

0036
Realizing that Susan was correct about Sabastian not being available during the day, Janet took Susan to her apartment.

Although her one-bedroom apartment was quite nice, it was meant for one person, or perhaps a couple, not an erstwhile mother and child duo. At the moment, though, there was no other option. Janet set Susan up on the couch with a blanket and the remote control.

"You can watch TV or take a nap. I've been up all night, so I'm going to sleep for a little while," Janet explained to Susan.

"O.K."

"If you get hungry, you can wake me. I'll fix something for us to eat."

"I can just make it myself."

"I'd prefer if you woke me."

"O.K."

By this point Susan was engrossed in the TV. She was flipping through the channels with abandon as Janet headed to bed.

Shortly after one in the afternoon, Susan woke Janet with a gentle shake. "I'm hungry."

"O.K., sweetie. Let's see what we have to eat," replied Janet groggily.

Although several more exciting choices were given, Susan wanted peanut butter and jelly.

"So," Janet started, "can you tell me a little about the man who brought you to the hospital?"

"You mean Sabastian?"

"Yes."

"I think he has a funny name."

"Do you?"

"Yes, he said that it had taken him a long time to pick it. I think it's funny."

"Where did you meet Sabastian?"

"In an alley."

"An alley. Where?"

"I don't know. I was with my mom, but she died so Sabastian took me.

"He's really nice. I like him."

Janet wasn't sure what to do with this information. It could be a child's fantasy world, or it could be true. The problem for Janet was the lack of emotion in Susan's answers.

"When did your mother pass?"

"Pass what?"

"When did she die?"

"Oh, why didn't you ask that? Two or three days ago I think."

"Do you know how she died?"

"No."

"How did Sabastian find you?"

"He was with my mom when she died."

This scared Janet. It didn't seem to her that Sabastian was a killer, but that didn't mean anything. She thanked God that he wasn't home when she had stopped by.

"Was that the first time you had ever met Sabastian?"

"Sorta."

Unsure of how to ask the next question, Janet just said it straight. "Did Sabastian kill your mother?"

Susan looked up from her sandwich, tilted her head and said, "No, my mother killed herself. She wanted to die. She told me so."

"Was Sabastian there when your mother died?"

"Yes, he was there to take care of me."

"You didn't know him before that?"

"Not really."

"But he took care of you?"

"Yes. He doesn't like to admit it, but he loves me. I love him, too," she said smugly.

"How do you know?"

"The same way I know you love me."

Janet noted that Susan was correct about her love and wondered if Susan had read Sabastian right, too.

"What did you do with Sabastian before he brought you to me?"

"I drew pictures and played explorer in his house. He has a cool house."

"Did he touch you?"

"What do you mean? He carried me to meet you."

"Not like that, in ways that made you feel bad?"

"No. That's a funny question. Sabastian wouldn't do that. Other people would, but not Sabastian."

"I'm glad that it was funny. So he didn't touch you in a bad way?"

"No," Susan replied, "he didn't."

"Have other people touched you in bad ways?"

"Yes, but I don't like to talk about that." Janet chose not to press the issue now, but knew it would need to be addressed at a later point.

"Susan, what was your mother's name?"

"Jane Angle."

0037
Janet knew she couldn't leave Susan alone all night while she worked her shift at the hospital so she asked a neighbor if she would watch Susan. Janet lied and said that Susan was a distant cousin in town on a visit to the "big city."

Claudia, the neighbor, was an old Hungarian woman. Although she had lived in the United States for most of her life, she spent all of her youth in the "mother country." She was a sweet woman with odd, but harmless ways. Janet actually liked her very much and they often chatted in the hallway.

With a heavy accent, Claudia agreed to baby-sit Susan, saying that it would be nice to have a "little one" around. She refused to take any money from Janet for watching Susan, but did agree to let Susan order and pay for Chinese food for them.

Janet went back to her apartment, ordered Chinese, and explained to Susan what was going on. Susan, as Janet was learning, didn't seem to care about much and simply said, "O.K."

When the food arrived, Janet brought it and Susan next door.

"Claudia, I'd like you to meet Susan."

As soon as Claudia saw Susan her expression changed and she looked deeply into Janet's eyes. Taken aback, Janet looked away.

In a sweet voice and her normal expression, Claudia knelt down in front of Susan. Touching her face she said, "Little one, you have been touched by angel of death, but he has let you live. I can see it in your aura, you are very special.

"I am happy to meet you. You can call me Aunt Claudia."

Not fazed at all, Susan said, "Hello Aunt Claudia. Can we eat now?"

"Certainly," Claudia said as she took the bag from Janet and gave it to Susan. "The kitchen is through doorway, you go set up. I'll be in as soon as I say goodnight to Janet."

As she went off to the next room, Susan let out a quick goodbye with her usual lack of care.

Claudia watched as Susan left the living room and then turned to Janet, who was still trying to understand what was going on. "You do not tell me truth about this little girl. It is no matter, she is very special. Maybe later you tell me who she really is."

Janet didn't say anything as Claudia practically pushed her out the door with a, "You must go work now."

Janet knew Susan would be safe, but didn't understand how Claudia seemed to know so much.

0038
A little "bugged out" by Claudia, Janet headed off to work. By this time it was dark out, so she made a quick pit stop by Sabastian's brownstone.

She noted that it was a beautiful house, something she did not pay attention to when she last attempted a visit. Everything in the courtyards seemed very old, but well maintained. It was simply a splendid place, though none of the windows were uncovered and it looked as if guests were unwelcome.

She rang the door and waited but no one answered. She rang again and knocked, but still no one answered. If Susan hadn't been so certain of the house that morning, Janet would have assumed that Sabastian had lied to her. Still, there didn't appear to be anyone home, so she headed to work. She wanted to make some calls about Jane Angle anyway.

Sabastian, meanwhile, had risen and run out of the house. He wanted to cruise the city to see what was going on. Specifically, he wanted to watch the Tribunal's headquarters and see what the Enforcers were up to.

After spending some time across the street on a rooftop, he started to see activity. Three pairs of Enforcers headed out in separate directions. Unable to follow all of them he simply selected the strongest pair.

In Sabastian's old age, he found that he was becoming more and more sensitive to things around him. If he concentrated on something living, or at least not fully dead, he could get a feeling, for lack of a better word, about that person or thing. He focused hard on the six Enforcers and assumed that the strongest would be sent to handle the most difficult or dangerous task.

He was correct, and followed them to an apartment building. Outside there were two police cars, which made Sabastian uneasy. The two Enforcers, though, didn't seem to mind as they walked in. Sabastian followed at a discreet distance.

The Enforcers walked up to the third floor where Sabastian heard muffled screams, a single gunshot, and pleading. As he got closer he could hear the Enforcers demanding to know where John Lewis was.

"God! I don't know. I told you I don't know."

"What do you know about the death of the girl in the alley?"

"What alley, what girl? I told you, I don't know anything.

"I was told to collect evidence, I'm just doing what I was told."

Sabastian figured that this was the apartment of the police officer to whom he had spoken. The Enforcers were obviously there to find and kill him. He didn't want to interfere, but he also wanted to get some information himself. He wanted to make sure that Susan would be safe from these killers. That would require confronting the Enforcers—something he was loath to do, but if it had to be done, the current location seemed as good as any.

0039
Sabastian walked up the last flight of stairs and listened at the closed door. The police officer was still groveling for his life. It was now or wait for another opportunity that might never come, so Sabastian rushed through the door, grabbed the first Enforcer, and literally ripped his head off.

Swinging around, Sabastian was hit in the stomach and shoved against a wall as the second Enforcer threw herself into his midsection. Recovering from the shock, Sabastian grabbed her by the neck and lifted her off of him. She struck at him in vain, as her blows ripped his cloths, but seemed to glance off of his body doing no damage.

"You surprised me once Enforcer. That was your only chance to kill me," he said. "I am Sabastian and you are in my city."

The enforcer stopped struggling, realizing that it was doing no good, and scoffed, "Your city? This is the Tribunal's ground. Perhaps your name elicited fear years ago, but you're nothing now."

"I will teach you to fear my name before we are through here." The officer sat against the far wall in shock watching and listening.

"Why are you here?" Sabastian asked.

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because I will kill you if you do not."

"Well, then, you had better kill me."

"Very well, I will get the information from the human," he said as he sunk his teeth into the Enforcer's neck and drained her. He knew all too well that reasoning with an Enforcer was futile. The Tribunal would deal viciously with her if it found out she had spoken to him, so death was her option even if he let her go. There was no point in wasting time in trying to persuade her.

Sabastian hadn't taken one of his own in over a century. The power of it flowed through him like a storm. It was potent, intoxicating. It rekindled old desires and, mixed with his new wants, it made him feel young again.

After he was finished with the Enforcer, letting her drained body fall to the ground, he turned to the still stunned policeman. "I, too, need information," he said with a smile.

Indeed, Sabastian hadn't felt this alive in a long time. He knew that this feeling had much to do with the blood of his own flowing through his body, but it was something else that made him smile. It was something else that made him take risks that were foolish. It was something else entirely.

He was making mistakes only the young make. Leaving a body lying around in the open for anyone to find. Taking on a human child. Confronting a powerful coven. Interacting with humans, but not killing them. It was as if he hadn't made these mistakes or seen them made before. He knew that many of his kind died because of such stupidity.

But it was different now because Sabastian felt he had a purpose after so many lonely years.

0040
As Sabastian finished speaking, the officer got his wits back and sprinted for the door. To his surprise, Sabastian seemed to appear in front of him out of nowhere.

The cop fell to his knees. "I don't know anything. Please, I don't want to die."

"We will see what you do and do not know," Sabastian said as he picked the officer up off of the floor and hurled him onto the couch some four or five yards away. This move was for effect more than anything else, as Sabastian did not want to hurt the officer—at least not yet, anyway.

"Who lives here?" he asked.

"John Lewis."

"What does he do for a living?"

"He's a detective." Although he could not be absolutely certain, as there were no photographs in the immediate vicinity, it appeared that this was the home of the officer to whom he had spoken.

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you here?"

"To collect evidence... I told those two that," the officer said practically crying.

"Why?"

"I don't know. There was a break-in and I was told to look for evidence."

"Do you know when the break-in occurred?"

"I guess it was last night, but I don't know." Since Sabastian had spent the prior night taking care of Susan, this time frame seemed plausible. Night was the only time when the Enforcers could try to find John Lewis.

The question on Sabastian's mind was, "If he is not here now and was not here last night, where is he?" It was obvious, however, that the person he was questioning could not answer that question, so he didn't bother to ask. Perhaps the detective took his advice and left town.

"Who sent you?" Sabastian continued.

"Captain Bill Miller," he answered as if he had just ratted out his best friend.

In the distance, Sabastian could hear sirens. Based on the events, he assumed they were coming to check out the apartment. Other residents of the building must have called the police because of the commotion.

"It seems your friends are coming to rescue you," Sabastian said to the cowering officer. He knew that he should kill this man, but he was filled with pity.

To let him live would further expose him and his kind, though it seemed a bit too late to worry about this issue in light of recent events. The deciding factor was that Sabastian still had the two Enforcers to deal with. Leaving these two behind would be too risky and he couldn't deal with two dead Enforcers, one dead human, and the remaining police officer.

"I am sorry," Sabastian said as he broke the officer's neck. "I had little choice but to kill you."

He then grabbed the Enforcers' bodies and ran to the roof. Neither officer had been drained of blood so Sabastian left them behind. Jumping several rooftops away, Sabastian placed the bodies atop a water tower. There, he reasoned, they would not be found before the sun took care of the remains.

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 41 to 50

0041
Janet Long arrived at work with two names—Susan and Jane Angle. She had to decide what to do next.

She could not risk using Susan's name to search for answers. That might result in Susan being taken from her. She would not allow that, she would not let Susan get caught up in the system.

Jane Angle was the only way to look, but how? And what if the search turned up someone, anyone, looking for Susan?

Janet was uncertain if leaving a loose end was worse then the suspicion she might unearth searching for more information. She could simply disappear with Susan, move to a new town where no one would know that she was not Janet's daughter.

But the idea of not knowing as much as possible was too difficult to accept. She would always wonder when Susan would be taken away from her. She would always be looking over her shoulder. She decided to make some calls.

Janet started from the bottom of Manhattan and worked her way back up for lack of any other plan. Since Jane Angle had died, she figured calling local police stations would be the quickest route. It didn't take long to get the numbers of every police station in New York City, it was just a matter of making time for the calls.

Good luck or bad luck, it only took three calls for her to get results, though time wise this required nearly two hours, as she could only call between patients.

"Hi, I'm trying to find a friend of mine who I haven't seen in a few days," she said. This was the lie she hoped would cover up her true aim. "Her name is Jane Angle."

The phone attendant, a pleasant older woman, who was the central gossip store for her station, instantly remembered the name. It was the last story that her friend Dave told her before he was shot in the line of duty.

It was the vampire case that John Wayne was on. Although she knew Jane Angle was dead, she said that she didn't have any information. She explained that Detective John Lewis often handled missing person cases and that she would transfer Janet to his line. As it turns out, the phone attendant hadn't yet heard the gossip about John being put on administrative leave because she had only just come on duty.

Janet thanked the attendant and decided she might as well leave a message for the Detective. She reasoned that even if he did not know anything, he might be able to help find something out.

"You have reached the desk of Detective John Lewis, I can't take your call right now but if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as possible. If this is an emergency, please hang up and call 911."

At the beep, Susan repeated her lie and left her cell phone number.

0042
Later that day, John arrived at the Chief's condo. It was on the second floor of an apartment building on Clearwater Beach. It was actually not on the beach, but one street in from it. Still, it was a very nice location with a view of the Gulf of Mexico.

John wasn't thinking about how nice the view was, though, because his mind was still on the case. He had barely spoken two words since he left the station. He wasn't sure if he was angry or frustrated—or both.

"Why?" was the one word that kept repeating in his mind.

Why kill the girl? Why kill everyone involved? Why did that guy talk to me and not anyone else? Why did the Chief pull my case and send me to this hellhole?

While some would think a six-month paid vacation in Florida a blessing, John didn't. There was something big going on, and he wasn't in the loop. That upset him.

John decided to call it a "night" and crash on the couch. A tacky thing that looked like it was bought in the 1970s, but very comfortable. Although he fell asleep quickly, it was a fitful sleep. He kept seeing the face of the victim and the face of Sabastian.

When he finally woke up, it was mid-afternoon. "Wow," he said to the empty room, "I must have been really out of it. Guess I needed the sleep."

He roused himself and headed out the door to find some food. Luckily, there was a bar virtually next door.

He soothed his mind with some beer and, since he was so close to the water, some clam chowder. As he was eating he turned the case over in his mind.

"I've got no evidence. What do I know? I know there was a murder. The victim was a drug addict. She had a daughter. Some guy named Sabastian pops in and out warning me to get out of the city. My boss sends me out of the city on administrative leave. And it appears that the little girl is with the killer.

"Nothing fits together, yet it does. Sabastian and my boss both know something, but neither will tell me what. This thing is bigger than it seems. White slave trade? High profile drug dealers? Some guy's concubine? The father of the girl is rich and wanted to get her back, or away, from Jane?

"That could be it. Maybe the victim was involved with some rich guy and Susan Angle is the daughter. I don't know who the father is. Although Wayne Cashman said it could have been him, he doesn't really know for sure. Maybe that is the connection. It would answer for the Chief shutting me out of the case. And it could explain Sabastian—he works for the rich guy and is trying to protect him.

"But that doesn't seem to make sense. She was a drug-addicted prostitute, what rich kid would mess around with her? Of course, Susan was about six or so. Jane could have been a very different person six years ago. And some rich guys have 'favorite' prostitutes. But what about the way she was killed?

"There is more going on here. The Chief isn't going to tell me, that's obvious. I need to find this Sabastian guy. He's the key here. He's the only link that isn't dead."

John paid and headed back to the condo. The phone rang as he walked through the door.

"John, how you doing?" the Chief asked.

"Fine, I guess."

"You're thinking about the case aren't you? Well forget it. You're out and that's that. Have fun."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Yeah, I guess I am. Besides, that wasn't a request, it was an order."

The rest of the conversation was mundane information sharing about the area, what to do and where to go type of stuff. John paid very little attention. He knew the Chief was doing what he thought best, but John couldn't help but feel betrayed. After all, this was really just a check up call to see if John actually followed orders.

"Thanks Chief. I guess we'll talk soon," John said as he hung up the phone, starting to accept his fate.

As soon as he had put the receiver down, though, he instinctively picked it up again and dialed in to his work voice mail. A couple of nothing calls and then bingo—a new lead and a new fire.

0043
"A friend, calling around looking for someone who is dead?" John chuckled. There were too many coincidences going on for this woman's story to be true. She knows something, but not enough to know what's going on or she wouldn't have called.

"What could she know? Why call the police? And how did she get my number?" he questioned out loud.

John sat down and made a few calls to some friends. He got Janet Long's real name, phone, and address from the number she left on his voice mail. He called Janet's cell number, though, so as not to scare her off.

"Hi, Detective John Lewis returning your call. You say you're missing a friend?"

"Yeah," Janet answered. "I haven't seen her in a few days. I'm kind of worried. I was wondering if something had happened to her."

"On the message you said her name was Jane Angle, right?"

"Yeah, that's her name."

"How do you know her?"

Janet's lie began to unravel quickly. She hadn't thought through her whole story and John was asking question she couldn't answer. Basic questions like what did Jane Angle look like were tripping her up. Finally John put an end to it. "You don't know Jane Angle, do you?"

"No," Janet was a bad liar and prided herself on telling the truth. It actually felt good to tell the detective she didn't know Jane Angle. But Janet was still reeling from the onslaught of questions. It was obvious to her that the detective knew something about Jane.

"How do you know about her?"

"I just do."

"Then I'm guessing you know she's dead."

"Yes."

"Tell me what you have to do with this."

"Nothing. I didn't. This was a bad idea," Janet said, though it was far too late to do anything about it.

"Maybe or maybe not," John answered. He sensed that this woman had something to do with the case, but it wasn't malicious. She was motivated by a desire to help, not hurt. But help in what way? He decided to take a chance. "I'm going to be honest with you, we don't have any leads on this one. You might be able to help us figure out who killed Jane Angle. You obviously know something or you wouldn't have called."

After a long pause, Janet was called back to the emergency room. "I, I have to go."

"We'll talk soon."

"I guess I don't have a choice."

"No, not really," John answered. As soon as a he hung up, he called information to find a travel agent. He was going home.

0044
"Why couldn't I leave well enough alone," Janet said out loud as she went to deal with a patient, she had been kicking herself all night for calling the police. "Curiosity killed the cat, and me," she berated herself.

She had just worked a double shift and was sticking around because her replacement hadn't shown up yet. She had been in the hospital for something like 20 hours and she was exhausted.

Luckily, she had the next three days off. That was the only thing that was keeping her going. All night and all morning she was thinking about where to go with Susan. She finally decided on Washington D.C. All the museums were just too tempting to pass up. And they would be that much better with Susan there. She would rent a car and the two of them would be there in five hours. She'd worry about a place to stay when they got to D.C.

She was concerned about the detective, but that wasn't going to stop her from getting away. Besides, he had her cell phone number. He could call her again on that. She was sure he would call her.

When her replacement strode in, Janet announced, "Mike, you're a jerk. I've been her for 20 hours. Don't do that to me again."

"Hey, I'm sorry," Mike said, cockily. "She just wouldn't let me go."

"Screw off," Janet said as she went into the back and got her stuff. Within minutes she was out the door.

When she got home she apologized profusely to Claudia, Susan's de facto baby sitter, explaining again what had happened. The first time she called to apologized after being at work for about 17 hours, the second time after 18 hours, the third time Claudia told her that it was OK and she must stop calling.

"It is no problem. Susan is lovely girl," Claudia said looking into the kitchen to see that Susan was eating her food. "Come, let's talk."

Claudia took Janet into the living room of the apartment and showed her some of the drawings Susan had made. "This man. This man is death. This girl has seen the face of the dead."

"What do you mean? I don't understand," Janet replied. She felt as if she were just too tired to handle everything that was going on, and Claudia was freaking her out with all of this death stuff.

Claudia looked directly into Janet's eyes and said, "When you or I look death in face, we die. This girl, she is special. She look death in face and live. You feel it in her. I have not seen this since I left my country.

"Whole towns in my country disappear. Death would come and take them all. They say disease, but not disease. It was death. Death, he suck life out of victims. Leave rotting corpses.

"This, this is death. Little girl say she know him. That you know him! You must stay away from him. It not safe."

Janet's head was spinning. She couldn't tell what was going on anymore. What did Claudia mean by death? It was a picture of the man who brought Susan to the hospital, Sabastian. Sabastian seemed odd, but he certainly wasn't the Grim Reaper. And he was so gentle with Susan. Janet figured he was a drug dealer or something unsavory like that, but death was a little too far fetched.

"Aunt Claudia, Sabastian isn't death," Susan said standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "He's my friend. He loves me. He takes care of me."

"Oh, little one," Claudia said as she walked over and touched Susan's face. "You are right, this Sabastian he is good man to bring you to Ms. Janet and Aunt Claudia. Claudia is just frightened old woman, that all."

Susan and Janet went back to their apartment shortly after that, but they didn't discuss the issue.

0045
Janet asked Susan if she would let her sleep for a little while, which, as expected, was just fine with her. Janet told Susan about her plans for a trip to Washington, which was also OK. The lack of emotion was bothersome, but Janet could only think of sleep at that point.

While Janet was sleeping, Susan looked over the pictures she had drawn while she was staying with Claudia. She held them up and turned them this way and that. Each picture was carefully screened and put into piles. Eventually, Susan picked out two, one of her and Sabastian holding hands and another of her dressed up in Sabastian's jewelry.

"I'll give these to Sabastian," she said out loud.

Walking in to Janet's room, Susan quietly came up to the bed and asked, "Janet, can I go play with Claudia?"

Sleepy, Janet simply consented with, "Sure, honey."

When Susan went next door, Claudia was happy to see her again, asking, "What? Back so soon?"

"I'd like to go for a walk, but Janet is sleeping. Will you take me?"

"Claudia will take you, but you will have to walk slowly. Claudia is old woman," she answered with a wink.

"I will."

The two set out shortly before nightfall. It was obvious to Claudia that Susan was going somewhere specific, this was not just a random walk. "Where are we going little one?"

"I wanted to drop these pictures off for Sabastian before Susan and I go away for a trip. Susan said we are going to Washington, wherever that is."

"We are going to see this Sabastian? I don't think that is good idea."

"Oh, don't worry. He isn't awake. He sleeps all day. I'm just going to put these pictures under his door."

"This Sabastian, he sleeps all day?"

"Yes."

Claudia was more concerned then ever, but decided to continue asking questions rather than turn back.

"How did you meet this Sabastian?"

"He was there when my mother died."

Far more calmly than Janet, Claudia asked, "Did Sabastian kill your mother?"

"No, she killed herself. She wanted to die. She wanted her pain to be over."

"And how did you meet him?"

"After she died, I went to say goodbye. He took me home with him."

"And what did you do at his home?"

"I drew and played dress up. It was fun," she answered.

After a brief pause, Susan said, "Claudia, you don't like Sabastian, but you should. He's really nice. He isn't death, he's just Sabastian. I'm supposed to be with him. Now he can't, but soon he will take care of me. He told me so. I didn't realize it at first, but then I remembered."

Claudia said no more, letting Susan lead her to the house. On the surface it seemed that Susan was playing make believe, but Claudia sensed there was more. It was better, she thought, if they delivered the drawing as quickly as possible and talked later.

When they arrived, Susan slipped through the two outer courts and put the pictures in the mail slot. "He'll like these," she said as she pushed them through.

Claudia, meanwhile, stood out by the street. She could feel Sabastian's presence. This house was most certainly the house of death. On a normal day, she would have cursed the place and walked on as quickly as possible, but strangely she felt safe because Susan was with her. It was as if Susan was a protection, a talisman.

As Susan came back, Claudia leaned down and hugged her. "You are very special little girl. Now let's go home."

The two walked back to Claudia's apartment as quickly as Claudia could manage. She wanted to be home before it was dark.

0045 Part Two
After dropping off Susan's drawings, the two of them walked back to Claudia's apartment. There Susan watched television while Claudia tended to her home. When it was time for her to go to bed, Claudia gave the little girl a blanket so she could sleep on the couch, kissed her on the forehead, and said goodnight.

Sabastian found the two drawings just before Susan fell asleep. He normally ignored the things shoved into his door, but these two pieces of paper drew his attention. There was an emotion tied in with their creation, he sensed it.

When he arose earlier that night, Sabastian, as was his custom, reviewed the prior night in his mind. He replayed killing the two Enforcers and then going back to watch as the others who had set out that night returned to the Tribunal. First one pair and then, much later, the other. So late, in fact, that Sabastian had to rush home to make it before dawn.

To his dismay, Sabastian did not sense anything from the returning Enforcers. Neither group had brought anyone or anything back to the Tribunal. And, neither group seemed to return with a feeling of success. Looking back, he wondered where they had been.

Now, though, Sabastian was wrapped in his memories. He meant to get out early and follow the Enforcers again, but those plans had fallen aside.

"Susan, it seems, has not forgotten me," he said out loud. His feelings ran inside of him. Everything he had done was alright because this little girl loved him. Every stupid mistake was fine so long as she loved him.

Part of him wanted to deny the love he felt for her, but it was overpowered. He knew that he would see her again. He knew he had to see her again. He would do anything to keep her safe. He wanted to see her grow—something he never experienced with his own daughter.

The emotion of the moment, though, was pushed aside when he realized he was being watched by others of his kind. They were brazen, simply sitting in the front court. The drawings had waylaid him too long, the Enforcers had already left the Tribunal and Sabastian now knew where the second set had gone the night before.

0046
The first plane detective John Lewis could catch brought him into LaGuardia Airport at about the same time Susan was going to sleep. On the trip, John thought only about the case. His main interest now was Janet Long.

How was she connected? What did she know?

He assumed she didn't know much or she wouldn't have called around aimlessly looking for information. It was obvious she was involved, but not in the murder, as such. She was tied to this case in a different way.

He thought that, perhaps, Jane had left her daughter with this woman before she went to turn tricks. Yet that didn't seem to make sense because she already knew about the murder and the bum had seen the girl leave with the murderer. It was more likely that she had found the little girl after the man was done with her or interrupted him before he had a chance to do anything.

Perhaps Janet had taken Susan to help her. But why call around the way she did? Why not just bring the girl in to the police or a hospital? Maybe Janet Long didn't have anything to do with the girl. Maybe she was involved with the man in some way. But John couldn't get his mind around it.

He felt that, the way she spoke, it was as if she had something to hide, but he couldn't decide what that could be. And if she did have something to hide, why call around to the police at all? Wouldn't it be better to just let it die?

Janet Long didn't seem to make any sense when added to the puzzle, but then none of the pieces fit very well right now. Unfortunately, John was so caught up in his theories, that he hadn't thought about what he would do when he arrived in New York. This dawned on him when the plane hit the runway.

For starters, the Chief had thrown him out of the city. Second, it appeared that someone or organization was looking for him—perhaps to kill him. Third, and most obvious as he stood in line for a cab, he had nowhere to go and no way to get there.

He couldn't go for his car because it was at the police station and it would be foolish to go home since his house had already been ransacked. He wanted and needed to "lay low."

Once in the city he knew he could get around in cabs and via public transportation. That was no big deal, but where to stay was a problem.

A $100 cab fair later, he was standing in front of Wayne Cashman's apartment.

0047
"I already told you everything I know, man. Why are you harassing me?" Wayne Cashman asked as he opened the door to let John in. He didn't even think twice about allowing the detective to enter, he knew that he couldn't stop him.

"I'm not here to ask questions Wayne. I'm here to ask for a favor," the detective said as he walked in.

"Everyone knows I got picked up and let go. No one wants to deal with me. They all think I'm working with the cops to save myself from going to jail. What do you want now? You ruined my business, what else is there?"

"Wayne, you're a drug dealer so don't give me any sad stories. I'm actually glad to hear that I've put a crimp in your sales. But what I need now is a place to stay."

"No way. You can't stay here."

"Well, I could always take you down town and arrange for you to occupy a suite in the station." This was a complete bluff, since John couldn't go to the station after being ordered by the Captain to chill out in Florida for six months. But John was a good poker player and Wayne wasn't.

"Come on. Why me? Wouldn't it be safer to stay with another cop? Don't you guys have safe houses and stuff like that?"

"Look, this case with Jane Angle. Someone is trying to get to me. I don't know who and I don't know why. All I know is that it isn't safe for me to be in my home. And I don't think it's safe for me at the station. There is more to this case than meets the eye.

"If you cared about this girl at all, you'll help me. There is no other way I'll find out about her death or her daughter."

"And if I say no?"

"You won't. I can already see it in your eyes."

Wayne just sighed and sat on his couch.

"You really did care for her, didn't you?" John asked.

"Yeah. Besides, you know that I think her daughter may be mine."

"We'll do all we can to figure this one out."

After a quick look around the apartment, John said, "Your place is kind of small. I guess I'll take the bedroom and you'll sleep on the couch."

Wayne just sighed again.

0048
Sabastian sat in his living room with Susan's drawings while his uninvited guests were sitting outside waiting for him.

It was likely that they knew he was inside. But would they actually try to get in if he didn't leave?

The Tribunal knew about the detective. By now they would have figured out that someone had killed the two Enforcers sent to find him. Sabastian knew that the Enforcers at the scene of the murder must have seen him, after all, he had seen them. Now, it seemed, the Tribunal wanted to know what he had to do with the incident. Killing two Enforcers would have been nearly impossible for humans and, for that matter, most of their own kind. Sabastian realized that the next logical step would indicate him.

But there were many unanswered questions. How much do they really know? Did they know he followed the ambulance? Did they know he spoke with the detective? Did they already know he killed the Enforcers? Did they know about Susan?

The first questions didn't upset Sabastian nearly as much as the last. He could handle himself, but Susan would be defenseless.

She was only a little girl and she was caught up in something that could escalate quickly. She had done nothing to deserve the mother she had and now she had done nothing to deserve being killed by the Enforcers because of a foolish mistake in which she wasn't involved.

At that moment, a horrendous thought passed through his mind—what if these pictures were left by the Tribunal? What if they already had Susan? What if they were using Susan as bait to lure him out?

This was a situation that he could not abide. He had to know and the only way to figure it out was to meet with the Enforcers. He quickly cleaned the room of anything that might show that Susan had been in his house. He certainly didn't want to provide these two flunkies with any new information if they didn't know about Susan.

Sabastian was, in fact, hoping to get more than he gave. He assumed his uninvited guests would want him to pay a visit to the Tribunal, but he hadn't decided on how to deal with that just yet, as it depended on how things progressed.

After a double check of the living room, Sabastian walked to his front door, opened it, and said, "You might as well come in, unless you would prefer to slink around my door all night long."

0049
At first the Enforcers were taken aback. They had expected, and were prepared for, a fight. To be welcomed in openly took a moment to sink in. Distrustful, but unsure how else to proceed, they walked into Sabastian's house.

"Please, have a seat on the couch," Sabastian said. "It has been a very long time since I have had the pleasure of chatting with my own kind. What are your names?" he asked as the taller of the two Enforcers sat down.

"My name is Sol," answered the tall one, "and this is my partner, Baal."

"Interesting, the sun and the Biblical god Baal. Well, I am sure you already know my name, but I am Sabastian.

"What brings you to my home?" he asked as he sat in his armchair.

Sol replied, "The Tribunal has requested your presence."

"Requested my presence," Sabastian said with true surprise, as the Tribunal he knew was more likely to make demands than requests. "What ever for?"

"That I do not know."

"Oh, well. I should very much like to know why I am needed before I go. I have so many pressing things, you see, I would not want to put them aside unless it is truly important."

"We're authorized to use force if necessary," announced Baal.

"Are you, child?" Sabastian asked in an attempt to put him in his place, though he knew it would more likely infuriate him. Sabastian sensed that Baal was uncomfortable with the situation from the moment he walked in. Further, Baal was impatient and impetuous. Sabastian attributed this to his youth. It was clear that Sol was a good deal older, and far more restrained.

As Sabastian had guessed, Baal grew visibly angry. Sol put his hand on his partner to calm him. Sol was well aware that Sabastian was playing with them. His age also afforded him a deeper understanding of how dangerous Sabastian could be.

"Sabastian, you must excuse my partner for his rashness. As you have guessed, he is young yet.

"The Tribunal has indeed given us leave to use force, but I hardly believe that will be necessary. You can rest assured that the Tribunal believes the situation they wish to discuss with you is very important. They do not send requests lightly."

"Nor, I assume, do they normally send four Enforcers to request an audience," responded Sabastian, sensing that the third pair from the other night were watching his back door.

"No, in most situations a single Enforcer would be sufficient. I think you should view a four Enforcer escort as an honor."

"Or I could see it as a threat."

0050
It was obvious that Sol felt the situation worsening. Sabastian was still playing with them, but it was clear he wanted as little as possible to do with the Tribunal. "Sabastian, I understand your hesitance. The Tribunal has been organized and has conducted its business around you. This resulted in a peaceful coexistence for many, many years. Indeed, even before my time. I only know of you from the tales of the elders.

"I assure you, that the Tribunal has only made this request because something important needs to be discussed."

"And that would be?"

"I know very little. I am, as you know, an Enforcer—I am told only what I need to get my job done. What I know is that there was a woman taken by one of our kind and the body was found by humans."

"And why is this important to me?" Sabastian asked.

"Such a breach of the rules is quite rare, as I am sure you know. It concerns all of our kind because of the risk of exposure."

"True, such a gaff is both odd and dangerous, but I am sure the Tribunal is up to handling the matter."

"The matter is already being taken care of," Sol responded, though Sabastian knew he was lying. "We simply need your help to resolve some lose ends."

"Lose ends? What do you mean by that?"

"We don't yet know who was responsible," answered Sol.

"And you believe I am involved?" Sabastian challenged.

"I did not mean to insinuate such a thing," he replied, backing down. "The Tribunal simply believes you will be able to help us find the one who did this."

Sol was obviously nervous now. The stories of Sabastian were not exaggerated and fighting him would be folly for any but the ancients. And even the ancients would not welcome such a fight. Sabastian could feel his fear, though Baal was itching to prove himself, and believed that Sol had been mostly honest with him. Besides, he would be able to get more information from the Tribunal itself than one of its henchmen. It was clear they suspected him, but to what degree?

"Well, I suppose I can delay my plans for one day," said Sabastian. "Sol, I will let you lead the way."

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 51 to 60

0051
Detective Lewis went through Wayne Cashman's room putting anything that bothered him into a big plastic bag. Drug paraphernalia, such as Wayne's works, old food and drink remnants, and the bedding all went. He gave them to Wayne as he walked out the door to buy new bedding.

It was obvious to John that Wayne really was a good kid at heart. If he could just break out from under the drugs, he might actually be able to do something with his life. He hadn't seen too many people do it, though, and he didn't hold out much hope. But this wasn't John's main concern right now—he needed food, bedding, and clothing for tomorrow's encounter with Janet Long.

It wasn't too late yet, so John was able to find a Conway that had everything he needed, except dinner. The clothing he bought was cheap, and normally not what he would choose to wear, but it was adequate. He also picked up some off brand toiletries.

John decided to go back to the apartment to drop his purchases off and to get Wayne. It was only appropriate that a guest should take his host out to eat, at least once. Besides, he needed Wayne to buy him a gun since the Chief had taken his away.

Wayne was still sitting on the couch when John walked in and asked, "So, how about dinner?"

"What?"

"I'm your guest, I should thank you. Where's a good place to eat?"

With a sigh, Wayne answered, "There's a deli down the street. They have good food at the buffet bar, and it's cheap."

John was thinking of something a bit nicer, but if this was what Wayne considered dinner, so be it.

On the way, John broached the subject of a gun. "You can have mine. I've only shot it a couple of times—never at anyone. I keep it clean and oiled," was the response. "It's a 9mm, like the cops use."

"Great," said John, surprised that Wayne owned such a formidable weapon. He figured the kid would own a dinky old .22, if anything at all.

"Perhaps there is more to this kid than meets the eye," John thought as he eyed Wayne.

0052
Sabastian and Sol walked and talked as he was led to meet the Tribunal. Baal walked behind them with the two other Enforcers. Sol was very interested in Sabastian.

Sol explained that the ancients were well aware of his existence and his strength. Most of the young, though, thought the stories were exaggerations.

"And yet you have great respect for my rumored power," noted Sabastian.

"Yes, unlike many of my age, I do not believe myself to be invincible. And I have it from good authority that most, if not all, of the stories about you are true."

"Really, and who is your authority?"

"The founder of the Tribunal. And, these stories are corroborated by the current president, whom you will soon meet."

Sabastian didn't think much about this comment.

"What I don't understand, and no one seems to have a good answer, is why you gave up the city? Why you allowed others to come in?"

Sabastian noted that Sol had slowed the pace considerably during the walk and was purposefully taking wrong turns to delay their arrival. The conversation, though, was not an attempt to get information about the killing. Sol was truly interested in Sabastian.

"You are young yet, you would not understand the feeling of loneliness when your only purpose is to kill. And when the bloodlust subsides, and killing looses its purpose, there is nothing left. You exist for no other reason but to exist."

"It is true, then, you don't need to feed?"

"Not as before. I could probably live for a year on a single kill."

"My God," Sol exclaimed, "I need to take blood at least every other night. Even the president feeds every few days."

"Some feed because they enjoy it," replied Sabastian. "Others because they weaken themselves by siring too frequently."

"Is it also true, then, that you have never sired another?"

"You seem to know a great deal about me. Your sources must be very good."

"History intrigues me," answered Sol shyly.

With a smile Sabastian said, "Indeed, I have never sired. But, the night grows long and our walk is further than it need be. I should like to get this meeting over with.

"Perhaps, if there is time and opportunity, we could continue this discussion at a later date."

"I would like that," answered Sol as he led Sabastian on a more direct route. They were silent until they arrived at the Tribunal's meeting place.

0053
Sol opened the door for Sabastian and led him past a throng of onlookers awaiting their arrival. Sabastian's presence was, apparently, an important event.

"A lot of our kind has gathered for this chat," he said to Sol as the crowd opened before them.

"I am not the only one who finds your name of interest. Most are here just to see if you really exist," Sol answered with a chuckle.

"I am not sure I like the notoriety, anonymity suits me better. Now, anyway"

"Perhaps, but your past deeds make that impossible.

"This way," Sol said as he opened a black door with a triangle on it. Walking ahead a few paces into the dark room, he announced, "As per your Lords' request, Sabastian."

"Thank you Sol, as always you have performed admirably," a woman's voice rang out in the dark.

"Thank you Madam President, it is an honor to serve."

From the voice, Sabastian knew who the President was. She had masked herself well, which surprised him, but now that he was here, she had let her guard down. He wondered how long she had been in the city, let alone in charge of the Tribunal.

Blinding lights from behind three seats on a stage were turned on. All that could be seen were the silhouette of the chairs.

Sabastian decided it would be easier, for the moment, if he pretended he didn't know the President. As for the others, he could sense that they were too young to be much of a bother. He guessed, wrongly, that they were puppets put in place by Madam President so that she could have complete control of the city.

"Why have I been brought before the Tribunal?" Sabastian asked, with just enough anger in his voice to let the Tribunal know he was not pleased to be standing in front of them.

"My dear Sabastian," the woman's voice rang out, "do you not remember me?"

0054
Now that she had opened the door, Sabastian said, "Yes, Elizabeth, I remember you. One does not easily forget their sire. Why have you brought me here?"

"We have brought you here to talk, that is all. But, perhaps, it would be best if we spoke alone first. I can see that you are angry and the others aren't accustomed to your moods."

"Whatever you wish Madam President," Sabastian answered in a serious tone, though Elizabeth knew he was playfully mocking her.

She stepped down from the stage after a quick reassuring glance to the others. Sabastian could not see this because of the lights. She walked to Sabastian with her hand extended. Dutifully, Sabastian took Elizabeth's hand and kissed it.

She was as radiant as ever. Her porcelain skin almost glowed. And deep inside Sabastian was actually happy to see the one who made him, the one with whom he had spent so many years. And these feelings existed despite the difficult way in which they separated.

"The years have treated you kindly," Sabastian said holding her hand just slightly longer than was polite.

"Thank you Sabastian. You look pretty good yourself, even if your cloths are a bit outdated."

"But then I was never as stylish as you," he responded, noting that she had taken on what was often referred to as gothic dress. It suited her well, as it was a pleasant mix of modern and old.

"Let's move to my chamber so we can speak privately," Elizabeth said, boldly taking his hand and leading him back through the throng of onlookers. She eyed them powerfully and defiantly, Sabastian simply acknowledged their presence and no more.

Once in the room, Elizabeth was the first to speak. "Before we start this, I want to settle old scores."

"Certainly."

"Are you still a prudish little virgin holding out for her wedding day?"

With a smirk, Sabastian responded, "Are you still whoring about indiscriminately?"

"No, I have learned many lessons since we parted. The least of which was selectivity.

"From what I am led to understand, though, you are the same as you always have been."

"This is true, I keep to myself and have not sired another in all these years."

"Is it true what they say about you once controlling the city?"

"Yes, but my control was different than what is now in place."

"So it is true that you killed any that came here."

"Yes."

"Why did you stop? You reigned over one of the most important cities in the world. You could have had anything you wanted. Why cede control?"

"Power is not something I truly desire, and, anyway, it was not a thing that happened all at once.

"When I took control of the city I did so to be alone, not to demand tribute or favors. It started slowly.

"At first I protected my domain out of fear. Living through one too many incestuous covens taught me to trust no one. It was one of the few lessons I had not learned in my time with you," he said with a respectful nod.

"At first my actions attracted more of our kind. Those who felt I needed to be stopped. As you can see, they failed in their efforts. The more that tried, the angrier I got. The angrier I got, the more I expanded my domain. I was ruthless and vicious. Eventually all but the most foolish avoided my city.

"But when I no longer needed to fear others of our kind, I simply grew less and less concerned with our kind.

"And as the years past, so did the fear that others felt. More and more of our kind ventured into the city. I paid little attention to them because I no longer cared. I no longer cared about anything at all."

"Then you understand how I felt when we parted," Elizabeth stated sadly.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"I am not. Today, no matter how foolish, I feel more alive then when you sired me."

"What changed?"

"Everything," Sabastian answered.

"Sabastian, is it true that you drink the blood of our kind?" Elizabeth asked with no warning.

0055
"Is that what they say about me?" Sabastian asked in order to avoid the question. In years past Elizabeth would have sensed his deceit, but his skill at shielding his thoughts had strengthened considerably since they last met. Not to mention that the two hadn't seen each other in years and were much less aware of each other's subtleties.

"Yes, it is what they say."

"Interesting. Is that why I am here? To pay for what you believe to be my past misdeeds?"

"No, you are here because there was a body left for the humans to find."

"So Sol said. And you believe I killed the human and left it to be found? That is a mistake only the young and the stupid make," Sabastian said deriding himself as his only excuse was, indeed, stupidity.

"We don't know. But the Enforcers saw you at the scene of the crime. We want to know your involvement."

"Idle curiosity."

"Enforcers have disappeared trying to cover up the crime."

"I am sorry to hear that."

"I don't believe that."

"Would you believe that I do not care?"

"Yes, I believe you don't care. But the problem is that others do care. And like it or not, they believe you are responsible."

"And I should be concerned about this?"

"Yes, you should. We are trying to tie up all of the loose ends. And so long as you are involved, you are a loose end."

"Are you threatening me Elizabeth?"

"No, I am not, but we, the Tribunal, are."

"I do not appreciate being threatened."

"That is why I'm speaking with you in private. I knew all to well how you would react."

"Why not just kill me, that is the Tribunal's usual form of justice, is it not?"

"And who would dare take on the great Sabastian after hearing the stories that are told about you? Only a fool would do so."

"Baal seemed eager to attempt it."

"Yes, that is why I sent Sol. He is more sensible.

"Baal, and many other Enforcers, are angry because their leader was one of those that disappeared."

"Really?" Sabastian said with disinterest, though internally he was surprised at how easily he killed the leader of the Enforcers. He wondered which one was the leader since neither were difficult to dispatch.

"Basically, my dear," Elizabeth continued, "It would require an edict to the entire New York City community demanding your death. At the very least, the Enforcers would try to hunt you down, while, at the other end of the spectrum, the entire New York City community would."

0056
"Sabastian don't you see? Who else in this city could defeat someone powerful and cunning enough to rise up to lead the Enforcers?

"Only the ancients, all of whom are accounted for, and you. The secretive and elusive Sabastian that just happens to take an 'idle' interest in a mundane killing. An interest strong enough to allow himself to be openly seen by those he normally shuns."

"Let them confront me."

"Are you so bold as to believe you can take on an army of Enforcers? And it wouldn't stop there, Sabastian. I told you, the Tribunal would pit every coven in the city against you. Do you think you can fight every coven in the city?"

"If I have already been found guilty, why bother with all of this? Why not just kill me? Send all of the Enforcers and all of the covens to hunt me down."

"Because you aren't the only loose end. I have convinced the others on the Tribunal to let you live if you help us."

"How gracious of you, but I am not involved in this and can offer you no assistance."

"We know you spoke with the detective," Elizabeth said looking at the floor. "And the last assignment the dead Enforcers went on was to find him."

Sabastian's eyes met Elizabeth's as she lifted her gaze. It seemed foolish to continue the lie, but he sensed that Elizabeth was holding something back. If he admitted his guilt, he would never find out if they knew about Susan. He didn't care much about the detective or Janet, so long as Susan was unharmed.

"Since I am already guilty in your eyes, what is the point in continuing this discussion? Regardless of what you and your Tribunal have decided, I can provide you with no information."

"If you are not involved, why did you talk with the police officer? Not once, but twice?" Elizabeth queried obviously frustrated.

"Elizabeth, I do not know what you are talking about. There was a gathering of people and I stopped to see what it was all about. That is the extent of my involvement."

"So you are saying that the Sabastian that spoke to the detective was not you."

"No, why are you so certain that it was? Did someone tell you that they saw me talking to this man?"

"No, the man reported talking to someone named Sabastian."

"Things have changed, I was not aware that the human police now reported to the Tribunal."

"Not as such, but we have our ways of getting information."

0057
"So, you have not spoken directly to the detective. Are you sure it was Sabastian and not Sebastian? Do you know what the person that spoke with this police officer looked like?"

"We have nothing but a name," Elizabeth answered.

This was Sabastian's way out. He decided to use their lack of knowledge to feign anger. "How dare you bring me here and accuse me like this," he erupted.

"Did you ever stop to think that some might use my name to cover their own tracks?" he continued with enough volume and mock anger to make Elizabeth cower back several steps.

"All I want is to be left alone," Sabastian said in a more restrained tone. "The Tribunal and I have lived in blissful ignorance of each other for many years. It would be best for all involved if it remained that way.

"This situation is none of my affair. Deal with it yourselves and leave me be."

"The Tribunal won't do that. The rules have been broken, someone must be held accountable. I am only one vote. I can not stop this.

"I would, Sabastian," Elizabeth said walking to him and touching his face. "I would stop this if it were in my power."

Sabastian's mind was racing. He didn't know how far he could trust Elizabeth. She could be trying to gain his confidence to get information. It had been so long since they had even seen each other. And she had not told him everything she knew. He could feel that.

The worst part, though, was that Sabastian still did not know the answer to his most urgent question—did the Tribunal know about Susan?

"You have my answer Elizabeth. I am not involved. What happens now? Do I fight my way out of here or will I be allowed to leave peacefully?"

"We should go back to the meeting chamber and discuss this with the others."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you will have to fight your way out," Elizabeth said lowering her gaze. "But I do not believe that is the most prudent course of action."

After a moment of reflection, Sabastian consented and they walked back to the meeting chamber. He did not know if the Tribunal was aware of Susan, and the only way he could find out was to keep playing their game. It did not make him happy, but he didn't believe there was another choice.

Once inside, Elizabeth instructed Sabastian to stand in about the same spot as before while she resumed her post on the stage.

"Has the guilty confessed?" the man to Elizabeth's right asked.

"Guilty?" Sabastian asked angrily. "Who is it that has decided my guilt?"

"The Tribunal, the rightful governing body of this city," the man to the left announced.

"The rightful governing body? You are only here because I allowed it!"

"That was long ago, times have changed considerably. You no longer have any claim to this city."

"I have never been subject to your Tribunal and I shall not start now. I have no involvement in this situation and I will not allow you to presume me guilty with nothing more than my name and reputation as evidence."

"You will tell us where the officer and the victim's child are," the man on the right said angrily.

Sabastian was both relieved and concerned. They knew about Susan, but apparently did not have her. His question was answered. Right now, however, he needed to play as if he knew nothing about Susan.

"Child? Well it seems the list of accusations knows no bounds. I now stand guilty of allowing my victim to be found, cavorting with the human officer in charge of the case, killing some of your beloved Enforcers, and spending my remaining free time playing with children. Is there anything else you would like to add to the list?

"Perhaps I have also stolen your kitchen sink?"

Elizabeth chuckled, prompting the man on the left to admonish her by saying, "Madam President, this is no laughing matter. You assured us you would be able to ascertain the truth."

"You are correct, this is no laughing matter. However, if Sabastian is, as he claims, not involved, our accusations would seem outlandish."

"Then you believe he is not involved?"

"I do not know. But the evidence against him is circumstantial at best. I know we have enacted judgements based on less, but I believe any judgement we decide upon in this case will be very difficult to enact. Therefore, we should be quite certain of our decision before we attempt to carry out any judgement."

0058
"Perhaps it is best if we continue in our attempts to learn more before we come to any costly conclusions," Elizabeth suggested to the two others on the stage.

"And what do we do with him in the meantime?" asked the man on her left.

"You speak as if I am a prisoner," retorted Sabastian angrily.

"Do you think we had you brought here so we could just let you go?" the man on the right asked rhetorically.

"I came here of my own free will and I will leave here the same way."

"You will leave when we decide you can leave," stated the left voice.

"I will leave when I choose to leave," Sabastian said with a great deal of volume.

"Sabastian," Elizabeth intervened, "I would love to catch up on old times. Please stay as my guest so we can have some time alone."

"I am not interested in these games, Elizabeth. I am leaving and neither you nor these faceless voices will stop me."

"You impertinent tramp!" exclaimed the man on the right.

Walking toward the voice, Sabastian stated flatly, "You interrogate me and insult me while cowering behind a mask of darkness. Are you afraid that I may learn who you are and kill you as I have so many others? As far as I am concerned, this game is over."

Before he reached the stage, Elizabeth stood before him with her hand on his chest. "That is enough," she announced loudly.

"Sabastian, you are not a prisoner, but I respectfully ask that you stay with me for the time being. My fellow Tribunal members have spoken rashly out of a desire to deal with an unsolved mystery. I am certain their words are driven by frustration. But, based on the limited information we have at this time, I believe it is premature to take any further steps.

"Please, Sabastian, I appeal to your rational side. Nothing good would come from hostility." She was looking directly into his eyes, pleading with him to stay with her mind.

Sabastian could tell that she was genuine in her desire to avoid conflict. He was driven by a desire to leave and find Susan so he could protect her, but his rational side, as Elizabeth termed it, knew that Enforcers would simply follow him if he were to make it out alive. And that was not a certainty. Sabastian knew he could hold his own, but the crowd outside was larger than he judged he could easily dispatch.

"I will stay for the moment," he said to Elizabeth.

0059
It was early in the morning when Janet Long woke up. She found Susan asleep in her makeshift bed on the couch. "Claudia must have brought her back over, I guess," she thought to herself. The television was still on, though the volume was low.

Janet leaned in the doorway and watched Susan sleep. She was happy just to have this little angel with her. She felt deep inside that she was fulfilling a larger purpose. That this, in some strange way, was what she was meant to do.

After a few minutes, she knelt down next to the couch and woke Susan up. "Honey, we need to get up so we can get on the road for our trip."

"Hmmm, I was dreaming about Sabastian."

"Really, what were you dreaming?" Janet asked, she was still trying to better understand the relationship the two had.

Sitting up, Susan answered, "He met an old friend. They were talking about old times and new times. She seemed nice, but he was afraid of her."

"Why?"

"She knows about me."

"Is that bad?"

"He thought so."

"Why?"

"I don't know, it might have something to do with her friends. They're mean."

"Were they in your dream, too?"

"No, but I could feel them. I hope Sabastian is O.K."

"I'm sure he is honey, he seemed like he could take care of himself. We need to get going. How about we get ready and we talk in the car. If you like we can get donuts for the trip."

"Yeah," Susan said excitedly. Janet was actually somewhat shocked that Susan was excited about anything, even if it was just donuts.

They got ready and on the way out Janet slipped a thank you note under Claudia's door for all her help.

After a quick stop at a Krispy Kreme for breakfast, they were on the road.

0060
"Do you remember anything else about your dream?" Janet asked after they had crossed the George Washington Bridge, and finished a few donuts.

"Yeah."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know, sure. Sabastian was just very worried. Even while he was talking about other stuff."

"What was his friend's name?"

"Elizabeth."

"What was she like?"

"She was very pretty. She wore old clothes like Sabastian has in his house."

"Really."

"Yeah, and she talked funny."

"Do you mean she sounded like she was from another country?"

"Yeah. They were talking about a fight they had in England. She was sorry but they both thought it was for the best. After the fight, Sabastian went to Italy and Elizabeth moved into a castle."

"Did she?" Janet asked, assuming that Susan was making things up.

"After that, she went to Italy to look for Sabastian, but he wasn't there anymore. He was in Spain."

"Spain?"

"Yeah, he went to Spain and then Porchigal."

"Portugal, honey."

"Yeah, Porchigal. She didn't know that, though, so she stayed in Italy for a long time.

"That was where she made Sol."

"You mean met, dear."

"No, she made him."

"Do you mean she had a child named Sol?"

"No, he was an artist and she made him in Italy. He reminded her of Sabastian." Janet decided to let it go and just listened. "Elizabeth spent a long time in Italy with Sol, but eventually they moved to New York. Thomas, the one who made her, was waiting for her to come.

"By that time, though, Sabastian had given up the city. Thomas was in control and wanted her help.

"She wanted to see Sabastian, but didn't know what to say so they never met. She hid herself from him.

"I think that's sad. Sabastian went from Porchigal to what he called the New World. He ended up in New York, and just wanted to be alone. But they kept bothering him."

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 61 to 70

0061
"Since I am your guest Elizabeth, perhaps you could tell me where I am to rest," Sabastian said as dawn approached and their discussion of the past came to an end.

"You're my guest, you will stay with me," Elizabeth answered flippantly.

"In your bed?"

"Yes, it will be like old times."

"Very old times. Sol will be upset, will he not?"

"No, he will not. Sol keeps to himself. I told you he reminded me of you, didn't I?"

"Yes, but if it is all the same, I still think another room would be more appropriate."

"Not if I am to keep control of the present situation.

"Sol is resting outside the only known entrance to this room to guard you. And that without my asking. He is worried for your safety, as am I. To put you into another room is too risky.

"If you refuse to rest in my bed, then you can spend the day on the floor. You may not, however, leave this room."

"I appreciate your concern. I will take the floor."

"Always the moral and ethical highroad," Elizabeth groused as she undressed.

Sabastian watched, answering, "Yes, we did offset each other quite well."

"That is what I loved and hated about you. It is why I always tried to push the envelope," Elizabeth responded, turning toward Sabastian purposefully. She was naked, and, as was her custom in ages gone by, was flaunting her beauty. She had long since stopped this behavior with Sol, he didn't seem to care if she were naked or not. But Sabastian was acutely aware of Elizabeth's attractiveness and lack of clothing.

"But eventually I pushed too far," Elizabeth said with a smile, relishing the obvious impact of her nudity on Sabastian. "I am glad to see you again, Sabastian. Under any circumstance."

Sabastian returned the smile, walked to the wall opposite the door, and sat hunched against it.

0062
Detective John Lewis got up early that morning. He walked into Wayne Cashman's living room to find Wayne asleep on the couch. John decided not to wake him up until after he had showered and dressed.

Once he completed that task, he shook Wayne awake and asked, "You want anything special on your ham, egg, and cheese?"

"Huh, um, no. Wait, no, I want ketchup."

"Good, get ready to go and I'll be back in a few. OJ good for you?"

"Yeah, OJ is fine," he answered rubbing his eyes. "Wait, What? Ready to go? Go where?"

"You're my backup," John announced, as he headed out the door.

"Oh man," Wayne said as he did what he was told.

When Wayne came out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go, John had the food laid out on the table and was breaking down Wayne's 9mm. "Man, you sure take your time getting ready. I got us food, cleaned the mess you had in the kitchen, and still had time to play with your toy here. I hope the food ain't cold."

"Thanks," Wayne said as he sat down and grabbed his sandwich.

"This gun is in good shape. How's the food?"

"Good. You know I don't want to go with you, wherever you're going."

"Yeah, I know, that's why I'm not giving you a choice."

"Nice," was all Wayne said, but he was thinking, "First you take me downtown and kill my business. Next you barge into my house and dictate that you are living with me for a while—and you take my room, no less. To add insult to injury, I have to be your backup. I'll never get my business back now, do you realize what you're doing to me?"

"I need to head to mid-town to find a woman called Janet Long. I think she's got something to do with the case. She might have the little girl," John said, hoping that this would be enough to get Wayne interested.

"Susan?"

"Yeah, I thought you could help identify her," John answered.

"Yeah, I can do that."

0063
By the time John and Wayne got to Janet's apartment, she and Susan were just crossing the Delaware Bridge. In fact, at the exact moment John was walking up to buzz her apartment, Janet was grumbling about the excessively large toll she had to pay to drive through the smallest state in the Union.

Ringing Janet's doorbell obviously did not result in an answer, so John rooted around until he found the superintendent. The nice older Hispanic man let them in to the building and the apartment for twenty bucks.

"Don't touch anything Wayne," John ordered as he headed in to the apartment.

"No problem, I'll wait out here," was his reply. "Last time I checked, what you're doing was called breaking and entering."

"You watch too much television," John shot back. "But it's probably a good idea for you to wait outside anyway."

It didn't take long for John to figure out that there was a child staying in the apartment. There was a pile of crude drawings in the living room. The lack of any photos of a child, however, solidified his belief that it was Susan Angle. If Janet were her mother, she'd probably have plastered the apartment with her daughter's photos.

He picked through the carefully arranged piles of drawings on the floor. They were indeed crude children's art, mostly of what appeared to be a little girl and a tall man. In some, the little girl was with a woman, but mostly the pictures were of the girl and a man. John took one drawing.

"Well, I think Janet has the girl," he said leaving the apartment. "There are a ton of kid's drawings in there. This one of a little girl walking with a man fits with what a witness to the murder described."

"Witness, I thought you said you had nothing to go on?" asked Wayne.

"The witness was killed a few nights ago."

"Oh, I wish I hadn't asked."

"Everyone that had direct contact with the murder is dead except me and the girl."

"And you're living with me, great!

"Uh, I don't know if this matters, but the lady in that apartment keeps opening her door to look at us," Wayne said as Claudia's door open and shut again.

"Could be a nosey neighbor, or maybe more. Even if she's just a nosey old lady, she could probably tell us if Susan was here. Good catch, Wayne. We'll make something out of you yet."

0064
John walked over and knocked on the old lady's door.

"Who is it?"

"Hello, my name is John Lewis. I'm a detective with the New York City Police Department. I was wondering if my partner and I could talk to you for a couple of minutes?"

Claudia opened her door and gave both John and Wayne a good look. She paid particular attention to Wayne, looking him directly in the eyes for a long time.

"Come in," Claudia finally said, turning and leading them into her living room, "my name is Claudia." The two men gave each other a quick look as if to say, "What was that all about?"

"Sit, I make tea."

"Thank you, but we don't…," John started, but it was obvious that Claudia was going to make tea whether or not John wanted any.

Wayne listened to the clinking in the kitchen, but John, frustrated at having to wait for the old woman to make tea, started snooping around. He quickly found some pictures Susan had drawn and given to Claudia. He showed them to Wayne.

Claudia came back shortly after her tea kettle whistled saying, "There's no point telling you I not know about Susan."

"Thank you for the tea," John said to be polite. "So, tell me what you know about the little girl and Janet Long."

"Janet is good woman. She ask me to take care of girl while she work. She is doctor and work long hours. She said Susan was her relative. We both knew she was lying, but she meant well. Like me, she does not have any family. I like to talk to her, to help.

"It was pleasure to watch little girl. Susan is very special girl. Like you, detective, she has seen death and lived."

"What?" Wayne asked, almost spilling his tea as he leaned forward. John shot him a dirty look to stop him from talking anymore. Wayne shrugged and leaned back again.

"Did the girl tell you anything about her real mother?" John asked pointedly, trying to link Sabastian to the murder.

"Your friend understand better what I mean," she said, seemingly ignoring John's question. She was again looking deeply into Wayne's eyes, though, strangely, it didn't upset him in the least. She nodded at him and continued, "He see it in your eyes. You have met this Sabastian that the little girl love so much."

"What do you know about this man?" John asked, hoping that he had gotten the information he needed to link his strange visitor to the murder.

"Man? He is no longer man. Years ago, maybe, but not now. Now he is death."

"Oh boy," Wayne said softly. He knew there was something in John that was different. He figured it was the cop mentality, but it wasn't. This crazy old lady was right, John was chasing after something big. He was chasing his own demons. He was looking for death—his own.

Assuming Claudia had lost her mind to old age after the death comment, John decided he had better things to waste his time on and asked, "Can you tell me where the two have gone?"

"They go on trip for few days. They come back soon."

"Do you know where?"

"No, she not tell me that."

"Do you know when they'll be back?"

"No, she not tell me that either."

"OK, thanks for your time. We'll try back," John said, gulping his tea and shuffling Wayne out the door.

On the way down the stairs, Wayne grumbled, "You could have waited for me to finish my tea."

"She was crazy, it was a waste of time talking to her."

"I don't know, I don't think she was crazy."

0065
John spent the rest of the day at Wayne's place making calls. He made sure to call with his cell phone so no one could tell where he was.

He even touched base with the Chief. He told him that he decided to take a road trip down to the Florida Keys. "Everything is wonderful down here," he lied. "It's just the break I needed. Thanks Chief, I'll call ya in a few days."

The other calls he made were to check up on Janet Long. He found out she was, indeed, a doctor, got her work location, and some other less useful stuff.

Wayne, meanwhile, spent the day with the shakes because he didn't feel right doing drugs in front of a cop.

"You O.K. in there, buddy?" John asked at the door to the bathroom after listening to Wayne throw up for the third time.

"Uh, yeah. I'm OK. I just need to be alone for a while."

"Look, Janet's not coming back for a few days. Why don't you come out, I'll do what I can to help."

"No, I'm O.K. It was just something I ate."

"Something you ate? You're detoxing Wayne. Let's get you comfortable. You're no good to me like this, I need you straight."

For some reason, the switch from John caring about him to simply using him made Wayne feel better. He came out.

"Hello! You look horrible."

"Thanks, I'm sleeping in my room."

"Only if you show me where you stash your dope."

He did and John got rid of it all. John then made some more calls, but this time from a chair leaning up against Wayne's bedroom door.

Susan, meanwhile, was having a great time in the Smithsonian Museums. She had never been to a museum, and she was truly enjoying the trip. This, of course, brought great joy to Janet.

The next few days were spent in much the same way for Wayne, John, Janet, and Susan. Sabastian, however, was involved in a delicate game of cat and mouse.

0066
"Did you sleep well?" Sabastian asked as Elizabeth began to show signs of waking.

"Mmm, yes I did."

"I see you still sleep late."

"And you rise way too early," she answered groggily. Getting up, Elizabeth said, "Help me pick my clothing."

"You would have me play dress up while I am a prisoner?"

"Oh posh, yes I would. You are always so serious." She walked over to her closet and pulled out a dress, "What about this one?"

"No, I do not think brown is a good color for you. You do realize that your friends threatened to kill me?"

"Yes, I'm well aware of that fact. You know, brown really isn't my color, I don't know what possessed me to buy this. I think Sol said it looked good on me just to get me out of the store.

"How's this one?" she pulled an ultra short skirt out.

"Your legs are beautiful, but surely that is too short even for your taste."

"Hmm, yes. You're right. This is another one that Sol said looked good on me, I'm not sure I should trust his taste. And I have nothing to wear as a top."

"So, what do suggest we do, Madam President?"

"I don't think there is anything we can do about Sol's taste in clothing. I just have to learn to take it into account when he accompanies me on my buying sprees."

"You know what I mean," Sabastian said in a more serious tone.

"Well, you could come and help me by looking in that side of the closet." Sabastian, falling into old habits, went to the closet.

"Elizabeth, you know what I am talking about."

"Yes, I do know what you are talking about. How's this one?"

"I do not care for the pattern. I would very much like to go home."

"That is no better an idea today than it was last night. Ah ha! Skin tight, patent leather pants."

"Yes, I think they will look good. This azure blouse would accent the pants nicely. And highlight your eyes."

"Yes, this will be my outfit tonight," Elizabeth pronounced as she pulled the pants onto her naked frame. "Just like old times."

"To some degree."

"Yes, to some degree. I miss it, sometimes. Sol does not care to play with me much anymore. He is like you, but still very different. No matter how much anger there was between us, we always interacted. There are stretches when I won't see Sol for months.

"He is, however, very reliable. And, when he is around, faithful. I don't really know what he does when he's not here.

"And in truth," she said as she finished buttoning her blouse, "I'm busy much of the time with this silly Tribunal. I only took the post because Thomas asked me."

"Thomas, your sire," Sabastian said scornfully. "Did you know that he tried to have me killed on a number of occasions?"

"He mentioned it, but he did stop after a while. And besides, that was a very long time ago."

"Yes, it was."

"Oh posh, let it go and tell me how beautiful I look."

"You are as beautiful as ever Elizabeth, as beautiful as I remember. Perhaps more so, if that is possible."

"Thank you."

"Now, about our current problem."

0067
"Yes," Elizabeth started, "about our little problem. I will remain here to continue discussions with the Tribunal. You will go with Sol to my home."

"I will? Not two seconds ago you said leaving was a bad idea."

"Do try to work with me. Yes, you will. It will be safer for all involved if you are not here and not in your own home.

"I will try to end things quickly and come home so that we may talk more."

"If I decide not to do this?"

"Sabastian, please. I'm trying to help."

"Fine, I will go. Though I wish you to remember that it is against my will."

"Noted." In a louder voice she said, "Sol, please come in."

Sol entered and bowed to both.

"What do you think of my outfit?"

"It's O.K., I guess. I believe it would be best for Sabastian to leave the Tribunal's headquarters," Sol stated. "There is a crowd gathering already and I'm certain it will be larger than the crowd from last night before long."

"See what I mean Sabastian, he doesn't even care about my clothing. But loyal beyond compare," Elizabeth said giving Sol a kiss on the cheek.

"I am sorry madam President, the urgency of the situation distracted me. You look, as always, stunning."

"Hmm, thank you. Take Sabastian out the back way and go to my home. Be discreet."

"I will," Sol answered. He walked over to the closet, and pulled open a secret door. "This way, if you please."

Sabastian bowed to Elizabeth and went to follow, when she held him by the shoulder. Sol looked away as Elizabeth turned Sabastian to face her.

She kissed him on the lips and then nuzzled his ear.

"I am the last one to lecture you about mistakes, Sabastian. You have helped me out of more scrapes than I care to admit. Please allow me to help you now."

Stepping back and looking her in the face, he answered, "I will try."

"Yes, I know it is hard for you to trust anyone. Least of all me. But believe me, I only want what is best for you."

At that, Sabastian turned to follow Sol. The secret passage led directly to an alley behind the Tribunal's headquarters. From there, the pair moved swiftly through the city to Central Park. They crossed the park and entered a building that overlooked it.

0068
Elizabeth's home was the penthouse apartment of a rather large old building overlooking Central Park. It actually encompassed the top three floors, including a beautifully landscaped terrace.

It was filled with the trinkets she had collected over many, many years. "You'll have to forgive the appearance," Sol said as they walked in. "I don't believe Elizabeth was expecting company."

"She would not have cleaned even if she had been expecting company. Besides, I am used to her disarray.

"I even remember some things. Not many, though, there was a fire in our last residence together. It destroyed almost everything we had."

"Yes, she has spoken of that night. I believe you were the one who set the fire."

"I was. I needed to cover up some evidence."

"Of what?" Sol questioned.

Sensing that his lack of knowledge was genuine, Sabastian said, "I see she tells you stories, but leaves out important details. Well, they are hers to share or not share. I suggest you ask Elizabeth for the answer to that question.

"Do you live here as well, Sol?" Sabastian asked, changing the topic.

"At times. I have my own place and, at this point, I spend more time there than I do here."

"Yes, she can be overwhelming. Or would exasperating be a better description?"

"I think you are being kind," Sol answered with a smile. Then, more seriously, he said, "I simply can't be with her as I was before.

"My love for her has not changed, but..."

"Dealing with her oft juvenile behavior has become too much for you," Sabastian completed his sentence.

"Yes, I sense that you understand my difficulty all too well."

"Indeed. Tell me Sol, you are Italian?"

"Yes. She made me while looking for you. I believe I was meant to be your replacement."

"You seem as though you would do an excellent job."

"I did, for awhile."

"But now you are close to leaving. I spent many years on the verge of departing myself."

"What pushed you to go?"

"The same reason that I started the fire."

"Which is Elizabeth's story to tell," Sol answered, smiling again.

"Yes."

"You, too, remain loyal."

"I have not forgotten my love any more than you have. Shall we talk about something less, delicate?"

"That's a good idea. What shall we discuss? The weather? The spread of the Roman Empire? The modern sport baseBaall, perhaps the Mets?"

"Do you know much about human politics?" queried Sabastian.

"I believe I know enough to have a conversation."

"Then let us debate democracy."

0069
Sabastian and Sol were deep in their discussion when Elizabeth arrived several hours prior to daybreak.

"Elizabeth," Sol said as she entered the room, "join us, we are debating the relative merits of democracy."

"Democracy? Tonight I would prefer a dictatorship," she retorted.

"Things did not go well?" asked Sabastian.

"Let's see. The others questioned my ability to lead, threatened to disband the Tribunal, and they want you killed. All in all, a wonderful evening."

"So what was the resolution?" queried Sabastian.

"Nothing. Though I think I could persuade them to drop the inquiry if the girl and police officer were dealt with."

"By dealt with, you mean killed?"

"Sabastian, you know very well that is what they want."

"Well, if I can be of assistance, please let me know. I believe there is still time for me to get home. Sol, it has been pleasant. The last time I enjoyed myself this much was with Elizabeth. We must do this again."

"Sabastian," Elizabeth stated angrily, "this is no time for jokes."

"My dear, I am not joking. There is very little I can do to assist you in these matters. As I explained before, I do not know any more than you. In fact, I probably know less than you do about this situation. Since I can be of no help, I prefer to go home."

"Sabastian, you are well beyond the point where you need my protection. We both know that. But my advice is another matter.

"I beseech you, please stay with me. The others would not dare do anything while you are under my political protection."

"I am hardly afraid of what the Tribunal will do," Sabastian answered.

"Although I head the Tribunal, there are powerful factions within it that would like to see you killed. They have sympathetic ears within the ranks of the Enforcers. If you leave, they will try to kill you."

"She tells the truth, Sabastian," Sol injected.

"Let them come to kill me. Others have tried and yet I still live."

"The Enforcers are more organized now then when the Tribunal was a fledgling government," shot Elizabeth. "Would you die over the lives of two humans?"

"It appears that it does not matter what I would do, the Tribunal has already decided my fate," Sabastian said. He walked over to Sol and kissed him on the cheek and said, "I will say hello to our friend Baal when he comes to kill me." Sol simply smiled and shook his hand.

Elizabeth, who by this time was fuming with anger, he kissed on the lips. "Do not worry," he said to her, "I am well aware of the danger. I have lived through such danger before." She held him tightly.

"It's the little girl, isn't it?" Elizabeth whispered in his ear. "She reminds you of your own child. The one from which I tore you away."

Sabastian stepped back emotionless. "Good night to you both."

0070
As soon as Sabastian stepped out of the building, he could sense he was being watched. "I guess there will be guests awaiting my arrival," he said out loud.

He moved quickly through the streets to allow himself as much time to fight as possible. He didn't want dawn interfering with the fun.

He decided the best course of action would be to go through the front door. If they meant to surprise him, he would sense them. If they wanted confrontation, the front courts would be as good a place to fight as any. Plus, he wished to avoid destroying his home. It was always difficult finding someone to do repairs by night.

As he walked up, Baal was sitting alone on a bench in the first courtyard.

"Hello Baal, I did not expect to see you quite so soon."

"We have unfinished business," Baal retorted curtly.

"Do we? I cannot imagine what that would be," Sabastian said walking directly up to Baal. He stopped at an aggressive, yet not impolite distance.

"Your death," Baal said with a smile.

"Well, if that is the case, do have your friends come out so that I may at least have a fighting chance."

Baal snapped his fingers and three Enforcers came from the second courtyard.

"There are two more on the roof," Sabastian said nonchalantly.

"So there are," Baal said with some trepidation, he was surprised—his adversary knew more than he expected. "Come down," he commanded.

"And the young lady in the back? Should you not call her to you as well?"

To one of his companions, Baal said, "Fetch Sam." There was a mixture of anger and frustration in Baal's face. He intended to surprise Sabastian, but, obviously, his plan had failed.

When Sam arrived, Sabastian said, "Seven, I believe I can handle this."

"Seven Enforcers," Baal said with scorn. "I have yet to see even one Enforcer defeated."

"Then I suppose your friends are an audience and not here to help you?" Sabastian asked with a wry smile.

"I won't need any help killing you," Baal said announced, causing the others to laugh defiantly.

From behind Sabastian, Sol's voice boomed, "You will kill no one tonight!"

"Who are you to tell me what to do? Now that Dana's dead, you think you're in charge," Baal confronted.

"Dana's death did not make you judge and executioner any more than it promoted you above my rank as second in command. Until the Tribunal selects a replacement, I am in charge.

"You will disperse immediately!"

The seven Enforcers looked at each other and started to leave. Baal was the last, departing with the closing salvo, "This isn't over."

"Thank you very much, Sol, but I believe I could have handled the situation without your assistance," Sabastian said to Sol as he turned around.

"I didn't come here to help you. I came to save their lives. I have it from good authority that you would have prevailed at their expense," Sol answered.

"Well, thank you just the same. I do not enjoy killing.

"It is nearly daybreak, you should stay with me for the day."

"I welcome the invitation and gratefully accept your hospitality."

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 71 to 80

0071
During the day, Wayne continued to struggle with his addiction. When he slept, it was fitful and filled with nightmares.

One of his dreams kept repeating over and over. In it, he was a monkey in a huge cage. He ran back and forth behind the bars helpless watching as strange creatures killed the other monkeys in the cage with him.

These monsters would make Wayne pick the monkeys they were going to kill and then make him watch.

At first he tried to pick sick or dying monkeys, but eventually there weren't any left. He had to start picking healthy monkeys. Once that happened, he gave up. He didn't even bother trying to pick, he just pointed. Any monkey would do so long as it appeased the monsters.

No longer running back and forth as the monkeys he chose were executed, he could see off in the distance other animals watching the murders. One of those animals noticed this and walked to him. The animal didn't come into clear focus until it was in front of his cage. It was an old lioness. At first the lioness shocked him and he was afraid of her.

"We have your child, but she is in danger," the lioness said, but Wayne could only make monkey sounds.

"She needs you, you must help her before they find her." Again, Wayne could only make useless noises.

"We are hiding her, but they will find her. You must be there for her." Then Wayne would wake up yelling.

Every time, John poked his head in and asked, "You O.K.?"

At first, all Wayne wanted was more smack. But the more the dream repeated the stronger was his resolve to get beyond his addiction. The stronger his resolve, the more he could see in his dream and the less he feared the lioness.

He saw that the cage he and the other monkeys were in was very small even though it seemed very large before. The other animals were all over, roaming freely, but looking on sadly as the monkeys were killed. The monsters, though, were always the same horrific beasts. He couldn't remember exactly what they looked like, but he could remember his fear.

The lioness always said the same things, but each time she seemed older and wiser. Behind her, he could see three other lions protecting something. The old lioness was the fourth. One lion always seemed to be asleep as the others watched. When the others slept, the sleeping lion was awake.

The more the dream repeated the more Wayne wanted to be a lion because he knew the lions were protecting his child. He knew that this was his duty, too.

0072
When Sabastian and Sol rose the next evening, Sabastian asked, "Did Elizabeth send you?"

"No, I came on my own. Although I don't particularly like Baal and his friends, I don't want to see them senselessly destroyed."

"True, I had no reason to kill them except that they intended to attack me.

"Is Elizabeth going back to the Tribunal?"

"No, Enforcers have been sent out to collect more information. They will report to me, and I will report to her. When we have more to work with, the Tribunal will reconvene."

"I see. And where will you be spending your time?"

"With your permission, I would like to spend a good portion of it with you," Sol stated.

"Is this honor for my protection or for your friends' protection?"

"Both. It's obvious that you will not accept asylum at Madam President's home. I don't trust anyone else to watch over you, nor do I expect you would allow anyone else to stay in your home. I am, for better or for worse, the only choice."

"Indeed. And if I refuse you?"

"Then we will have more deaths to sort through."

"Yes, I am certain you are correct. Perhaps, for the evening, however, we should visit Madam President."

"She was hoping you would," Sol replied.

When they arrived at Elizabeth's home, she was sitting alone reading from an old leather bound book. "Sabastian, you have decided to come. I'm so very happy.

"I've been reading from my old diaries. They have brought back some very fond memories."

"We had many good times together, my dear. Your shirt is very flattering," he said changing the topic to something he knew she would want to talk about. "Perhaps a bit more revealing than you would have worn when we were together, but I do not find the gratuitous display of your cleavage the least bit disturbing."

"Thank you Sabastian, the modern dress is much more liberated and liberating. Do you remember the devil of a time I had getting into those corsets and hoop skirt contraptions."

"Well," Sol interrupted, "since you two are jaunting down memory lane, I hope you won't mind if I leave to do some work."

"Of course not, my dear," Elizabeth said, "you do what you must. If you should find anything of interest, please make sure that I am informed before anyone else."

"Madam President, that was, of course, my plan."

"You are so very loyal, Sol. I truly appreciate that."

"Thank you Elizabeth," Sol replied with a gentle smile before turning and leaving.

Still looking at the door, Elizabeth said, "He is truly fond of you Sabastian. I believe he sees you as a kindred spirit of sorts."

"He certainly is a very kind and gentle companion. He has a deep passion. It has been a long time since I have been happy in the company of our kind," stated Sabastian.

"Well, I hope he isn't the only one you are happy to be around," Elizabeth said with a playful pout.

"Sol pales in comparison to the joy our reunion has brought."

"Oh posh, now you mock me."

"Only gently," Sabastian said with a smile.

0073
"So," Elizabeth started, "why did you come back? I thought you wanted your freedom."

"Yes, but it appeared that I was to have a chaperone regardless of my desires."

"You know I didn't send him."

"Yes, I know. To be honest, his unexpected arrival last evening saved the lives of seven Enforcers."

"He feared that Baal might attempt to kill you."

"His fears were justified. Interestingly, I truly believe he followed me to stop the killing. It did not matter who was to die, he simply did not want anyone to die."

"Yes, he's strange that way. From the very beginning killing was difficult for him. He doesn't kill any more than he needs to, and he doesn't like anyone to see him feed. He is, in all honesty, the perfect leader for the Enforcers. For too long they have killed indiscriminately."

"Yes."

"I bet you never expected something like that to come out of my mouth," Elizabeth said with a smile.

"It is nice to hear."

"We are more alike than you think."

"Are we?"

"Yes. I've never spoken to anyone about my life before, not even you.

"I was the youngest of seven children. We were desperately poor. I prostituted myself to make money.

"At thirteen I gave birth to a daughter. I watched her die from malnutrition at the age of two. That was when I ran away from home. It was also when Thomas found me.

"He kept me as a servant for many years before he sired me. Yet, through all of these years, I still think of my daughter."

"There is a subtle difference my dear. Your daughter was taken from you, but I was taken from my daughter," Sabastian said without any emotion.

"I know. And I regret that. I was young and foolish. The consequences of my actions didn't occur to me. I am sorry."

"Thank you."

"You miss her still, don't you?"

"Yes," Sabastian answered, "but I forgave you long ago."

"That is good to know. But will you forgive me this time, when I am forced to take this girl from you?"

"Elizabeth, how many times must I tell you that I do not know what you are talking about?"

"There is no point lying to me, as soon as I learned of the girl I knew the rumor of your involvement was true. But you need not fear me, Sabastian, I will do everything in my power to protect you."

"If I were involved, what would you do to protect the girl?"

"There is nothing I can do. It is beyond my control. I can only protect you. Any humans involved would die."

"So you would take my daughter from me and then take the girl that you believe has touched on the memories of my child?"

"Sabastian, don't be like that. You know I am sorry. Though we never spoke of it, you always knew I regretted it. As for the present situation, you know the rules by which I am bound."

"Your rules mean nothing to me."

0074
"Sabastian, I am trying to help you. Please let me help you," Elizabeth pleaded.

"No. You offer to help me, but I do not need your assistance. Even if you and your Tribunal decide that these accusations are true, I can defend myself quite capably. At least well enough to flee your unwarranted persecution.

"It is the child that needs your help. Not to mention the police officers involved. These are the ones who need you, but you offer them nothing.

"No, Elizabeth, I do not need your help. But others do. Others who have nothing to do with our kind. That likely do not even know of our existence."

"Sabastian," Elizabeth said testily, "don't get high and mighty with me. You feed as we all do. You are a killer just as much as I. And if you are involved, as I believe, you will be just as much to blame for their deaths."

"Regardless of my involvement, you will have ordered the death of innocents, not I."

"I do not wish to fight," Elizabeth said quietly. "Fighting will resolve nothing. Your involvement or not, we will find and kill the humans. And with or without your confession, I will work to protect you as best I can.

"I wanted to spend an evening reminiscing with you. Catching up on old times. But, perhaps, that is not possible at present."

"Perhaps not," Sabastian agreed. "Perhaps I have seen and caused too much pain to reminisce. And the involvement of a little girl does bring back painful memories."

"Sabastian, I love you dearly," said Elizabeth. "I will do what I can for you, but I must follow the laws. If I don't, my authority, the authority of the Tribunal, will crumble.

"If the Tribunal falls, there will be chaos. The fallout will be so devastating that not even the great Sabastian will be able to contain the damage.

"The city no longer belongs to you Sabastian. You gave up your control and you won't be able to take it back. Your time has passed.

"Go. Fight your skirmishes while we prepare for a war. Save the girl if you can."

"It seems," Sabastian answered solemnly, "that while we have grown to understand each other in some ways, we have grown further apart in others."

"Yes," Elizabeth answered, "but duty is what drives me now. Not love. You are concerned with the life of one girl. I am concerned with the lives of both our kind and the humans."

"Can you honestly tell yourself that the end will justify the means, that two lives are worth less than your precious rules?" Sabastian asked.

"The rules have allowed us to live for thousands of years. Do you believe the girl's life is worth our exposure?"

"These are different times, a handful or even a city full of people who think they know of our existence would do us no harm."

"We are solving nothing," said Elizabeth. "We are only angering each other. Nothing we say here will change what you or I do.

"Go, Sabastian. Go to save the girl."

As he left, Sabastian looked back and said, "Elizabeth, I am involved in this only because the Tribunal has drawn me into it. I firmly disagree with what you are allowing to happen.

"I will be at my home, presumably under the watchful eye of the Enforcers."

0075
On the way back to his house, Sabastian could feel the eyes of the Enforcers following him. He paid little attention, though, because his mind was on Elizabeth and Susan.

Elizabeth was, of course, correct about his involvement in the murder. And it was Susan, the victim's daughter, that drew him in. She knew him well enough to pick up on that fact.

Part of him wanted to tell Elizabeth the truth, but his concern for Susan overpowered this desire. Sabastian knew that if he openly admitted his involvement, it would seal the girl's death. He could not allow that to happen. He had to fight.

But, despite his desires, he was more powerless to help now than ever. He could not go to Susan because he would be followed.

His only option now was to go home and wait. But wait for what?

If he did nothing, they would eventually find Susan. And if he went to her, they would definitely find her. He was in a no win situation.

Information was the only thing he could hope for now. He would have to bide his time until he had more information. But the only place for him to get information was Elizabeth and the Tribunal.

Tomorrow, he would have to go back to Elizabeth. If it meant an apology, then so be it. He was angry at the way the Tribunal treated him, and that was an adequate excuse for lashing out. She would still suspect his involvement, but after the argument, he felt it was unlikely they would discuss it in great detail again.

As he stepped into the front courtyard, he was playing through different scenarios in preparation for the next evening. His watchful companions were still with him.

He knew they would not step foot on his property unless they wanted a fight. He turned around at the gate to the inner court and said, "Good night," before stepping through the archway.

To his surprise, he found Sol sitting quietly on the steps to his home.

Loudly Sol announced, "You have done well, leave us. I will take over from here."

"Well, it is a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon Sol. You mask your mind well."

"It helps that you are distracted. You certainly took your time getting home."

"I was, as you said, distracted. I find long walks in the fresh air help to clear my mind," Sabastian replied. "So, Elizabeth has you guarding me tonight."

"No, she doesn't know I'm here."

"So you came of your own accord, again. That is nice to hear. Are you afraid that Baal might make another appearance?"

"I am certain he will, but not tonight. I am here because I am concerned about this situation," Sol answered.

"I appreciate that, but I can handle myself well enough."

"Can the girl?"

"I doubt that she can," Sabastian answered, wondering what game Sol was playing.

"I, like Elizabeth, am bound to the rules of the Tribunal. I know you and Elizabeth had a fight tonight. She was very distressed by it. She feels you do not understand her allegiances."

"It is not a case of misunderstanding. I simply do not agree with her decisions on this matter."

"Nor do I," Sol stated flatly.

Sabastian still felt as though he were being played, but he had no choice but to go along for the ride. "Shall we go inside where it is more private?" he asked.

"Yes, and if I may impose on you again, I would appreciate lodging for the night."

"Certainly," Sabastian said, holding the door open for Sol.

0076
Sitting in the living room, Sol started, "Elizabeth believes very strongly that you are involved with the murder and are hiding the girl. From what we know, the mother was addicted to drugs and the girl is probably better off without her.

"Ultimately, I do not know if you are involved and I don't care.

"What I do know is that the Tribunal has already ordered several human's killed over the situation. These were, in my opinion, needless slayings that complicated matters far more than they helped. The Tribunal is often more aggressive then I believe it needs to be.

"One strange murder would have gone largely unnoticed. Killing everyone who had knowledge of the case only brings more attention to the case.

"I am, however, bound to do what I am told. So I must see this through in whatever manner the Tribunal wishes. You can trust me up until that point and no further."

"Is trust between you and I at issue?" Sabastian asked.

"It will be. You see, while I am slave to certain rules, you are not. You have never accepted the Tribunal's authority and are, thus, free from it.

"You can save this girl and the officer."

"And how am I to do this?" asked Sabastian.

"I can't physically aid you, but I can provide you with information."

"I must, then, trust that you are not trying to set me up?"

"Yes. The way I see it, if you are involved, you will welcome my help. If you are not, you will want to stop unnecessary killings.

"I think we are very much alike. I would like to believe that I would step in to help if I were in your shoes."

Sabastian looked at Sol carefully. He had shown nothing but friendship and kindness, but he was, still, something of an unknown. Elizabeth or the Tribunal could be using Sol as a trap.

Even if he continued to deny direct involvement, taking any steps based on Sol's information would be involvement enough to convince the Tribunal of his guilt.

Then there was still the issue of the Enforcers following him. "What, if I may be so bold, could you tell me that would help save these lives?"

"I spent the evening watching the apartment of a drug dealer that the officer interrogated before he conveniently disappeared. The officer is there. You are the only one who knows of this other than I. I will inform Elizabeth at midnight tomorrow."

"Based on this I am to go save these two men? What about my constant escort?" Sabastian asked.

"You will find no Enforcers following you tomorrow evening if you set out early. I will leave you and order you watched only after I get back to the Tribunal's headquarters."

"Why do this, it could get you killed?" Sabastian asked.

"I have spent many hours talking with a mutual acquaintance. He has done many things that he regrets. His decisions torture him. I don't wish to be tortured by my decisions," Sol answered. "I want to believe that I made the best choices available to me.

"Helping you is, at present, the best choice available to me. To attempt anything myself would deprive you of a valuable resource and would quickly lead to my death."

"Yes, the moment you were suspected you would be killed and there is little Elizabeth could do to help you," Sabastian replied. "It is late, I will think about your proposal, but now we must rest."

0077
The next morning, Wayne woke up from his recurring dream and the pain of detoxing was mostly gone. His battle was far from over, but his mind was thinking of only one thing—he had to talk to that crazy old lady.

It was early when he walked out of the bedroom. John was still asleep, so Wayne quietly took a shower. On his way back to the bedroom, he woke John up. "John, get up. I can't explain it, but we have to go back and talk to that old lady."

"What?" John sat up startled. "Oh, hey, you look much better today."

"I feel better, but we have to hurry up. I need to talk to that old lady again."

"You mean Grandma Death? Why do you want to talk to her, she's a nut case?"

"I'm not so certain about that. I just want to talk to her again. And this time, I want to do the talking."

"Yeah, sure," John said rolling over, "we can head out later."

"No, we need to go now."

"O.K., O.K. What fire got into your belly?" John asked.

"No fire, I had a dream," Wayne answered, as he started to get dressed.

"Great, Martin Luther King is going to talk to Grandma Death. This should be fun," John said, as he walked into the bathroom.

After a quick breakfast, the two of them headed over to Jane's building to talk with Claudia.

Without hesitation, Claudia let the pair in and made tea. "What can I do for you today?" she asked, as she put the teapot down.

"I want to tell you about my dream," Wayne said.

"I came all this way to listen to you tell her about a dream?" John asked.

"He is right to tell me this dream," Claudia admonished. "Come, tell me."

Wayne recounted the dream of the monkeys, monsters, and lions. John scoffed at the story while entertaining himself by snooping around the living room. Claudia listened intently.

When Wayne finished, Claudia asked, "What is your cage?"

"Heroin," he replied. John didn't say anything but thought, "As if that weren't too obvious."

"Ahh, but the bars are not strong like they were. You are close to breaking free."

"Yeah, I think I am."

"And then what happen to your dream?" Claudia asked.

"I don't know."

"What do you want to happen?"

"I want to be one of the lions."

"Yes, you do. Like your friend. Like Janet. Like me. And like Sabastian."

"Yes, the four lions. I want to be like the four lions protecting the child."

"No," Claudia said softly, "we are protecting your child." John turned around and looked at the old lady.

"You knew the moment you saw me," Wayne said.

"Yes, but I not know if you would be back. I am happy you finally believing what you see."

0078
"I want to see her, do you know when they'll be back?" Wayne asked Claudia.

"No, I do not know," she answered.

John, who was now sitting in a chair, was trying to get his hands around what was happening. His erstwhile partner was the father of the murder victim's daughter. No one really knew where she was and she was the only one who might know the killer. And then there was this Sabastian guy who Claudia claimed was death.

"Do you know where they went?" asked John.

"I tell you truth before. I tell you what I know."

Wayne grabbed one of Susan's pictures and a crayon, and wrote his number on the back. "This is my number," he said to Claudia, "please call me when they come back."

"I will," she said, touching his face.

John held his tongue until they left the building, at which point he asked, "What the heck was that all about?" As was his custom, he threw in some additional expletives for good measure.

"You're the detective, I'm sure you're able to understand what's going on," Wayne answered.

"Yeah, I get it. You think you're the kid's father."

"Yes, Susan is my daughter."

"What I want to know about is this lion and monkey business."

"I think that's pretty simple, too. Whoever is after Susan is the same person, or people, that killed everyone else that's been involved in this case. I can't let that happen to Susan. To my daughter."

"What about this Sabastian fellow?"

"He's on our side."

"Our side? Wayne, I'm trying to solve a murder. I don't want to see this little, I mean, your little girl killed, but she's a witness. If this Sabastian character is the killer, why do you think he'd be on our side?"

"I don't know, but that's what my gut tells me."

"Funny," John said as they got onto the subway, "my gut tells me he's a cold blooded killer. And Grandma Death seems to think he's a killer, too."

"No, she didn't say he was a killer, she said he was death."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're right. I should have seen the difference," John joked, but with a rather serious tone.

"John, do you want to save Susan or use Susan?" Wayne asked.

"Both."

The two men were silent for the rest of the ride. There was little more to discuss and the only option at this point was to wait. It would simply be a long, silent wait.

0079
When Sol awoke, Sabastian was already gone. Although he spent some time searching, he knew that his host had taken him up on the offer of help.

Knowing that he hadn't stood idly by as people were unnecessarily killed made Sol feel good. He only hoped that Sabastian would be able to stop the killing.

Sol spent a little extra time getting ready for the night in order to give Sabastian as big a head start as possible. After about an hour, he decided he couldn't justify any further dawdling and walked to Madam President's house.

There he explained to Elizabeth that the last time he saw Sabastian he was still at home. This was, as it were, not a lie, just not the whole truth.

"Well, I'm sure he won't go to the girl," Elizabeth said, "that would lead us directly to her. He knows that."

"This is true," Sol answered.

"I'm worried Sol. This situation is dangerous. I know very well how powerful Sabastian is, but I think he underestimates the strength of the Enforcers. While any one, perhaps even 10 or 20 Enforcers would be easy prey for him, I do not believe he can overcome the number that would be sent after him if the other members of the Tribunal get their way."

"And what is it they seek?"

"Is it not obvious? They would send all of the Enforcers to kill him. And if that were not enough, they would send every coven in the city to his door.

"I am but one vote, Sol. I am using all of my influence to keep them at bay. I don't know how much longer I can stop them from acting.

"As it is, Dana acted without my consent when the body and witnesses were killed. By the time I was involved, there was little choice but to continue what had begun. I don't know who ordered the Enforcers or if the directive came from Dana.

"What I do know is that someone or group is undermining my authority. I no longer know who to trust."

"Perhaps, and I mean no disrespect Elizabeth, you should pay a visit to your sire."

"Thomas? Why would he help? He repeatedly tried to kill Sabastian. While he learned to accept Sabastian's presence, I believe he would be just as happy to see him dead."

"I think, Madam President" Sol paused, "you will find that time changes many of us. Our blessing, eternal life, is often our curse. We cannot escape our pasts no matter how far we run."

"This is very true, Sol. I feel this more and more keenly myself as the years pass.

"I suppose you can tell me where to find Thomas."

"Yes."

Sol told Elizabeth where to go. He also explained his plans for the night—he would send some of his men to watch over Sabastian and continue working his connections. He would report back to Elizabeth as soon as he had more to tell her.

"Thank you, Sol. You are very loyal."

He nodded and left.

0080
Sabastian had indeed taken Sol up on the offer of help. While he didn't want to see the police officer die, his interest now was far more selfish. Sabastian believed that the officer could help keep Susan alive.

He arrived at the address Sol provided and decided that the front door would work best.

Hearing the knock, John asked Wayne, "Who do think that is?"

"I don't know. Maybe some junky is desperate and is willing to risk buying from me."

"Well, get rid of him. The last thing I need is for you to fall back in with the wrong crowd."

"Yes dad," Wayne said, as he went to the door. Looking through the peephole, he was surprised to see a man in a suit. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but opened the door anyway.

As soon as Wayne had a good look at Sabastian, he knew who he was. Wayne went white as a sheet, stepped back, and said, "You're Sabastian. You're death."

Hearing those words, John had his gun drawn and pointed at the door.

Sabastian walked in and said, "My name is, indeed, Sabastian, death, however, seems somewhat inappropriate. Who, if I might inquire, am I addressing?"

"My name is Wayne Cashman."

"Hello Wayne," Sabastian said, putting out his hand.

Instinctively Wayne shook his hand, but was horrified at the idea of touching the man Claudia called death.

"I assure you, I am not here to hurt you," Sabastian said to comfort him. "Are you not going to introduce me to your friend? Indeed we have met, but I was unable to catch his name."

"My name is Detective John Lewis and you are under arrest for murder."

"There are more pressing issues to deal with at the moment."

"No, I don't think there are. Put your hands up."

"I would appreciate if you put the gun away."

"I'll put the gun away when I've got you in cuffs."

"Then you will be holding your gun for a very long time Detective John Lewis.

"I do not have much time. You are both in grave danger. This apartment is being watched. They know you are here and very soon there will be an attempt to kill both of you. I suggest you leave and find another place to stay. One that is not in any way associated with either of you."

While Sabastian was talking, John had moved around and closed the door. "Why should I believe you?" he asked standing with his back to the door.

"Have I lied to you before?"

"No."

"Then why would you expect I am lying now?"

Out of nowhere, Wayne blurted out, "Susan is my daughter. I need to save her, can you help me?"

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 81 to 90

0081
Sabastian was taken aback by Wayne's statement. He knew that someone had to be the father, but had never expected to meet him. He had, as Elizabeth suspected, begun to think of Susan as his own.

"Well, Wayne, the best way for me to help her now is to help you. You must both leave here as soon as possible."

Then John asked, "O.K., if I believe that someone or group wants to kill us, then who? Who are these people?"

"I believe Wayne already knows, to some degree. They are not human, at least not anymore."

"They are like you, death," Wayne said.

"Death is such an inappropriate term, but yes they are like me."

"They are trying to cover up Jane's murder," Wayne guessed.

"Yes, they are. But, in typical fashion, they have done a poor job of it."

"Then why are you trying to help us?" John asked angrily.

"I do not wish to see more deaths."

"I don't buy it," said John, but as he finished the word "it," Sabastian had the gun out of his hand and John lifted off the ground by his neck.

With his face barely an inch away from John's, Sabastian said quietly, "Then would you believe that I do not care at all about you, but believe that I may get some use out of you in my efforts to save the girl?"

John made no answer, though, as all he could do was struggle to breath.

"You're hurting him," Wayne said.

Turning to look at Wayne, Sabastian answered, "Yes, I am," and dropped John to the floor.

John, struggling to catch his breath, stood up with his hands on his knees. He choked out, "Was that supposed to make me trust you?"

"No, it was to make you fear me. And to make you understand the peril you will be in should more of my kind come. I assure you, they will make quick work of both of you."

"John, don't be stupid, let's get our things and head out. You're not going to solve this murder if you're dead."

Largely recovered, John said, "I don't know that Sabastian is giving us much of a choice anyway."

"I think I know where we can go, man. I know Claudia will take us in,'' Wayne said to John. Then, to Sabastian, he said, "Claudia is Janet Long's neighbor."

John let out a loud expletive, while Sabastian asked, "Is Susan there now?" He did not let on that he knew Janet.

"No, Janet took her on a trip or something."

"You will tell me where this place is, but I will not go with you. I have other matters to attend to. I will contact you there if needed.

"For now, you must quickly gather your belongings and leave."

0082
"Thomas!" Elizabeth exclaimed with genuine surprise, as she walked to the youngish looking man feeding pigeons in Central Park. "What on Earth are you doing here? And dressed like this."

Thomas looked like a homeless teenager. He was wearing an old overcoat and worn shoes, and was happily feeding the birds flocked about him.

"Elizabeth, this is a surprise. I don't imagine you stumbled across me by chance, so I assume Sol had a hand in this meeting."

"Yes, he did."

"I am not the least bit upset to see you, but Sol wouldn't have told you where to find me unless you needed to speak with me for some reason."

"Yes, I need your guidance."

"Sol seems to think I am good at giving advice, though I think he values my opinion far too highly."

"In this case, I think you're the only one qualified to give advice."

"Well, then, tell me why you are here."

Elizabeth sat down next to her sire and explained what was going on. The dead body, the Enforcers acting without her authority, the death of Dana, and Sabastian and the little girl.

"Now that is quite some tale," Thomas said when she was done. "Do you really believe Sabastian killed this woman?"

"Yes, I do. And I believe he is protecting the girl."

"But such a gross error. It's rare among our kind, let alone by someone as old as Sabastian. Does that not seem odd?"

"Yes, it does. But all evidence leads to him. I think it ties into the girl. I think she reminds him of his daughter."

"Of course, but his reasons are not at issue, the rules are your concern."

"Yes," she replied.

"The others have taken this opportunity to demand his death."

"Yes."

"And you do not wish it."

"No, I do not wish to see Sabastian killed."

"They will say it is because you made him, that you are unfit to head the Tribunal if you don't enforce the rules equally."

"Yes, they have already insinuated as much."

"My, this is a quandary."

"I'm afraid for the Tribunal, too," Elizabeth said. "If I enforce the rules, I believe a great many of our kind will die trying to kill Sabastian."

"That is very likely."

"If I don't enforce the rules, I fear the Tribunal will fall and civil war will erupt among our kind."

"That, too, is possible."

"We have decided that all of the humans must die. We remain divided over Sabastian's fate."

0083
"Divided?" Thomas asked rhetorically. "I doubt that, you are the only one who wants to see him live."

"Yes," Elizabeth said. "I suppose I should say I am divided. Either decision seems to lead to death."

"I am afraid my advice will not be very helpful no matter what I say. If you give in to them, you save the Tribunal but weaken your control because they know they can push you around. And, of course, you send many of our kind to a certain death as they try to kill a powerful foe.

"If you allow Sabastian to live, the Tribunal is likely to fall and civil war will ensue, leading to the deaths of many of our kind. To make matters worse, the vast majority of the covens will be allied against you. You, Madam President, will be a target."

"So, what do you think I should do?"

"At one point I believed that Sabastian should be killed. I learned, after sending many to die, that he was a harmless recluse. I find I am more like him than I realized at that point.

"For whatever reason he is involved in this matter, I think he will disappear after it is sorted out.

"I think you are going in the right direction. You must stress the danger of confronting him. They will not listen, but that should not deter you.

"If Dana is dead, Sol is now in charge of the Enforcers. Do not be afraid to use this to your advantage. If you need to, kill your fellow leaders and install others that will follow you more loyally.

"If any covens rebel, squash them. Kill them all. The Enforcers are a powerful tool, use them," Thomas said.

"You are suggesting that I start the civil war?"

"No, that you stop it before it begins."

"Is this what you would have done?" asked Elizabeth.

"No. When I was leading the Tribunal, I would have tried to kill Sabastian."

"And yet you tell me to save him?"

"I am wiser now."

"And what about the girl? Sabastian will try to save her."

"I don't doubt that, but what does it really matter. Kill her or not, your biggest concern right now is maintaining control. You must exert your power. If the girl escapes, so be it. The covens will lose interest in little girls very quickly when they think their lives are in danger."

"I am afraid that you have more conviction than I," Elizabeth said quietly.

"Perhaps, but I trust you will do what is necessary. I only hope you listen to your feelings more than I did. I was a slave to the laws even when I disagreed with them. Now I regret many of the actions I took.

"Our laws do not allow us to ask why something was done. It only matters that it was done. Break a law and suffer the consequences. This is too harsh. I knew it then, but I followed them just the same.

"These were the laws of the Old World. I knew no others. Because of this, I killed many of our kind that were caring and compassionate. That acted to help others at the risk of their own lives. I killed those that made mistakes. I killed too many. I killed far too many."

"Sol said that time had changed you. He was correct. But, Thomas," Elizabeth said touching his sad face, "I think you have changed for the better." She stood up and left.

0084
John and Wayne arrived at Claudia's apartment in a little less than half an hour. When she opened the door, she took one look at them and said, "It has begun."

"What?" Wayne asked. "What has begun?"

"Come in," Claudia said with a wave, "I make tea."

Both men sat down, but didn't talk. They knew from Sabastian that something was happening, but Claudia's comment sent chills down their spines.

"Do you remember dream?" Claudia asked walking back into the room after boiling some water.

"Yes," Wayne answered, as she poured him tea.

"The lions, they protect little girl."

"Yes."

"But from what?" she asked him.

"I don't know."

"I tell you she is special girl, they will try to kill her because of what she know."

"Who are they?" asked John.

"Those like Sabastian," Claudia said.

"Death," Wayne said under his breath. "He spoke with us tonight."

"You expect me to believe that we have a city full of dead people running around playing human and looking for your daughter," John shot at him. "What are they mummies?"

"Vampires," Claudia answered.

"Oh come on," John exclaimed, "I don't believe this!"

"Explain how strong Sabastian was," Wayne demanded. "Explain away the first meetings you had with him. You can't."

"There has to be a rational explanation, one that doesn't involve things that go bump in the night."

"Sabastian is like them, but he is different," Claudia stated. "He does not give in to the blood lust. His heart is too strong, the love he shares with Susan too deep.

"Tell me, what did he say to you?"

"He told us we had to get out, to hide because more like him were coming," Wayne answered. "He said that they would kill us and that he was using us to save Susan."

0085
The rest of the night John, Wayne, and Claudia spent in relative silence.

John refused to believe that vampires were roaming the city looking for a little girl. He felt that there had to be a rational explanation, a human explanation.

Wayne, still working the drugs out of his system, fell asleep on the couch.

Claudia, seemingly unfazed by the news, busied herself around her apartment for awhile, but eventually said, "I need go buy food. You stay with Wayne. I be back soon."

"Sure, I've got nothing better to do," John replied.

After she left, John looked at Wayne and thought.

He replayed all of the events in his mind: The joke he made with the photographer about vampires making the headlines; His odd meetings with Sabastian; The bum and her tale. Nothing seemed to make any sense.

Weighing most heavily, however, was the fact that everyone involved with the case was dead. Everyone except him, Sabastian, and the girl.

"There has to be a logical solution to all of this. A sick cult or a well-connected freak, something. I don't buy vampires," he mumbled.

"Vampires are wives tales for old women like Claudia and kids like Wayne," he thought.

He ran things around and around in his head until Claudia returned from the store. Instinctively he jumped up and helped her with the bags.

In the kitchen, he said, "Claudia, I'm going to head out for a walk. I'm feeling a bit cooped up."

"Yes, go. But be careful. Death live in the night."

"Yeah, I'll be careful."

As soon as John left the building, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed his captain; The Chief, as John called him.

"Hey Chief," he said as soon as he heard a groggy hello.

"John, how are you? You still on the East Coast?"

"Uh, not quite."

"What does that mean?" the Chief asked with two or three expletives thrown in. It was obvious that he was now fully awake.

"I'm in New York. I think I have a lead in that case."

"I knew it was too good to be true. I knew you wouldn't listen to me.

"Well," the Chief continued, "you made your choice. I did the best I could.

"Let's get this over with. Tell me what you've got."

Desperate for a rational opinion, John ignored the tone in his mentor's voice and told him everything.

"So you don't have the girl?" the Chief asked.

"Not yet, but I think I will soon."

"Call me as soon as you have her."

0086
As John hung up the phone, Wayne woke from his dream screaming.

"Child, child," Claudia said as she rushed to his side. "What is it?" she asked stroking his forehead. His shirt and hair were wet from sweating, and his face was red as if he had been straining.

"The dream, it was the dream," he answered, getting his senses back.

"Tell me." Claudia said.

Wayne explained that the dream started the same, but this time he escaped from the cage. In the dream, he pulled and pushed the bars until they started to bend. The more he worked at the bars, the more they opened. After what seemed like an eternity, they bent enough for him to slip through. As he stepped out of the cage, though, he found that he was no longer a monkey, that he was now a lion cub.

The lioness came to him and welcomed him. She told him that he had much to learn yet not much time. She took him to his daughter, but as they approached, the creatures swooped in and took his little girl.

The lions watching stood in awe, there was nothing they could do. Then the monsters came and took all but the sleeping lion. It was as if they didn't dare to disturb the sleeping lion. The monsters seemed afraid of the sleeping lion.

The lions and the little girl were put into a cage, but it was different than the first cage. This cage was like a labyrinth. The lions all tried to find a way out of the maze, but it seemed like every turn led to a dead end. The little girl, however, was calm. She seemed to know more than the others, but would not speak about what she knew. She almost looked sorry for the lions. Eventually, Wayne stopped looking for a way out and asked his daughter, "What do you know?"

The girl answered, "Do not get upset over me, I will be O.K. You need to worry about yourselves." That was when Wayne woke up.

"This is bad," Claudia said, as John came back into the apartment.

"What's bad?" he asked, shutting the door.

"We are in danger here, we are not safe."

"Well, we can't leave until the girl comes back."

"He's right," Wayne shot, "I'm not leaving until I have my daughter."

"Then the game has begun and nothing can stop it," Claudia said coldly.

0087
After John and Wayne left the apartment, Sabastian found a quiet spot on a nearby roof and waited. He wanted to see the reaction of the Enforcers when they found the apartment empty. He also wanted to see who showed up to do the search.

To his surprise, four cars pulled up at about midnight and fifteen Enforcers swarmed the building. It seemed overkill to have sent so many.

One Enforcer sat with the cars, which on closer examination, turned out to be Baal.

When the others came back empty handed, Baal was obviously angry. He pulled out a cell phone and called someone. The person on the other end must have given him some instructions, as Baal hung up and started to tell the others what to do.

One Enforcer was left to watch the building and three of the cars sped off in different directions. As Baal was getting into the fourth car, his phone rang. After a short conversation, he sent the last car off without him.

When the car left, he walked off by himself. Sabastian followed.

Baal worked his way to a small park. The type that only locals know about, wedged between buildings on side streets. He sat down and waited.

Sabastian, hiding his many thoughts, waited on a nearby rooftop.

After about twenty minutes, a police car pulled up and an older man got out. He sat next to Baal and they talked for a bit.

Sabastian could feel Baal's pleasure. Whatever this man was saying was making Baal positively giddy. This fact concerned Sabastian greatly because he felt that anything that would make Baal this happy had to be bad.

After the policeman left, Baal quickly found his way back uptown to the Tribunal's headquarters. Sabastian kept his distance from the building for fear of being noticed. He waited for quite some time, but eventually gave up and went to see if Elizabeth was home. She was still his best source of information despite the friction of this situation and their personal history.

He met Sol, who was also waiting for her, at her house.

"You are not at the Tribunal," Sabastian said upon seeing Sol.

"No, I've been here most of the night directing the search.

"I sent Baal to the drug dealer's apartment. He found nothing," Sol said, not even mentioning his "deal" with Sabastian.

"I know, I watched them. He called you from the apartment to tell you."

"No, he sent one of his men to tell me."

"But he spoke to someone at the apartment."

"It wasn't me. Baal has many allegiances. Mine is, perhaps, the most tenuous, as you might have guessed."

"Yes, I sensed that," Sabastian replied. "After he made that phone call, he received one. He sent all of his men off and went by himself to meet a police officer."

"What?" Sol asked with some surprise.

"Yes. After their meeting, he went back to the Tribunal's headquarters. That is why I was surprised to find you here. I assumed he would be conferring with you."

"No, as you can see that is not the case. I fear this may be unfortunate news."

"Do you know where Elizabeth is?"

"No."

"Could he be reporting directly to her?"

"It is possible, but unlikely. I do not believe she is at the Tribunal and the two of them do not particularly like each other.

"It is more likely that he has reported to his sire, another of the leaders on the Tribunal."

0088
"Why would Baal be talking to a police officer?" Sabastian asked.

"We have many contacts within human society. We routinely meet with them to keep abreast of activities that might interest us. Baal's encounter, however, does not sound like routine contact."

"No, I do not imagine it was. I do not know what was said, but I could feel that it made Baal very happy."

"He has never been very good at hiding his mind," Sol replied.

Just as Sabastian said, "So, do you know where Elizabeth is..." she walked into the house.

"Sabastian," she said a little surprised.

"Yes, my dear. You look ravishing, that shade of lipstick makes your lips look simply luscious. Where did you acquire it?"

With a smile, she answered, "Henry Bendels, they stay open late for me if I ask. I'm surprised to see you."

"You should not be, your watchdog gave me little choice. He is so thorough that I just as soon follow him, lest he learn all my secrets."

"I don't believe anyone will ever know all of your secrets Sabastian," Elizabeth answered. "But, unfortunately, I don't have time to reminisce tonight. I need Sol to accompany me to the Tribunal. I would have you join us, but I don't believe that it would be prudent."

"Yes I think it would be unwise, I will go home," Sabastian said, as he got up to leave.

Elizabeth walked to him and kissed him. Looking him directly in the eyes she said, "I've been so bound to the past that I haven't allowed myself to live in the present. I thought I had a debt, a duty to perform, but I've been mistaken. I have no obligation to history."

Sabastian looked keenly at her face. She was being genuine, but her statement was cryptic. He was not certain of its intent even though her statement was meant to be reassuring.

"Sol, we must go, I have called a meeting," she said, pulling away from Sabastian. "Goodbye Sabastian," she said as they rushed out the door.

Sabastian was more confused then ever. He wondered whom he could trust and who were his enemies? There were no answers and still all he could do was wait.

He headed back to his home. There were a few hours before sunrise, but they would be meaningless to him. There was nothing to do except think, and it was Baal's encounter that weighed most heavily on his mind.

0089
As Sabastian was lying down to rest for the day, Janet Long was preparing for the drive home. Her trip to Washington had been such a success, that they stayed longer than she had originally planned. She loved Susan with all of her heart and it gave her great pleasure to see the little girl explore. It was like she had opened up, blossomed.

Now, though, home and work were calling. It had to end.

She let Susan sleep while she packed. "The little angel," she thought, "has had such active days, she needs her rest." After she finished, she sat and watched Susan sleep for a little while.

At about seven, though, she got the little girl up.

"Good morning Susan."

"Good morning Janet," she replied, groggily.

"How did you sleep?"

"I dreamed about Sabastian. He's very worried about me."

"Is he?"

"Yes," Susan answered. "Bad things are going to happen."

"I'm sure everything is going to be O.K.," Janet replied. "Go wash up so we can get going." She was cheerful with the little girl but reality had set in. The police officer she stupidly called, the stranger that dropped Susan off, failing to bring the girl to the police, the list continued. "Yes," she thought, "bad things are going to happen."

They were on the road by eight, just about the time that John, Wayne, and Claudia were waking up from what little sleep they managed to get.

"I'll go get us some breakfast," John said. "What do you guys want?"

Claudia didn't want anything, but Wayne asked for a ham, egg, and cheese on a roll.

John stepped out, checked to make sure Janet wasn't back yet, and then was on the phone with his boss.

"Hey Chief, just wanted to check in."

"Is the girl with you?" the Chief asked.

"No, not yet. I'll call you again when she is. I want to get a sketch artist with her to see if she can tell us anything about this Sabastian fellow."

"Absolutely, but what do you know about this guy?"

"Not much."

"Well, call as soon as you have the girl."

"I will."

0090
Leaving Washington DC at the height of rush hour proved to be a frustrating and time consuming experience. It added at least an hour to the trip, so Janet and Susan didn't get back to the city until early afternoon.

Both were tired when they trudged up to Janet's apartment. Just as Janet put the key into her door, John, Wayne, and Claudia stepped out.

Susan yelled out, "Wayne," and ran to him. He kneeled down so he could pick her up. The group was silent as Wayne was reunited with his daughter. The only sound was the sniffling Wayne made as he tried to hold back his tears.

After a few minutes, John broke the silence by asking, "Janet Long?"

"Yes, but I guess you already knew that," she answered looking at Claudia as if to say, "How could you?"

Sensing the feeling of betrayal, Claudia said, "They here to help, not take child away."

"That remains to be seen," John said. "Janet, I'm detective John Lewis. We spoke on the phone."

"Yes."

"Can we go inside your apartment and talk?"

"I imagine I don't have a choice."

Everyone went into the apartment. While John and Janet talked, Wayne and Claudia listening attentively to Susan's recount of her trip to DC.

The story John told was unbelievable to Janet. The idea that this little girl, her little girl, was in such danger was almost painful for her to listen to. More painful, however, was the fact that Wayne was her father.

"So what now?" Janet asked when the story had been completed.

"All of us are going to a safe house until we can figure this murder out," John answered. "I just need to make a quick phone call."

With that, John walked into the hallway and called the station. "Chief, they're back."

"O.K. John. Stay where you are. I'll have a team over in a few minutes to pick you up."

"A few minutes" was an understatement. Within two, a black van pulled around the corner and a team of heavily armed men jumped out.

John answered the knock on the door. As he opened it he was greeted with, "Detective John Lewis?"

"Yeah."

"O.K., we have to get you guys to the safe house pronto." The man, who was obviously in charge of the unit, had two of his subordinates search the apartment as he rushed the five out.

"My things," Janet protested, but was simply told, "Sorry, no time."

They were hurried down to the street and into a van by two other men from the unit.

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 91 to 100

0091
There were two men in the front of the van and two in the back with John, Wayne, Janet, Claudia, and Susan.

Each man was in black and, except for the driver, was equipped with automatic rifles, handguns, and other assorted weaponry. Far more than was required to pick up four civilians and a cop.

John was uncomfortable and it showed. He had expected two undercover cops and an unmarked car, not a team from what looked like the SWAT crew. The only problem was he knew the SWAT team, and these guys weren't on it.

After a few minutes, John started to ask questions of the men who picked them up, but received no answers. They just ignored him, until, after asking "What unit are you guys from?" he was told to shut up.

He nonchalantly reached behind his back to check if he still had his gun, when one of the men said, "That thing won't help you." All four of the men laughed.

"What the hell is going on?" Wayne asked John.

"I don't know, but something isn't right."

Janet held onto Susan very tightly and whispered, "It's going to be alright Susan. It's going to be alright."

Susan, it seemed to Janet, had fallen back into her own world. A thin film appeared to separate her from everything that was going on. But it was, perhaps, Susan who knew best.

The little girl turned to Janet and said, "It's O.K. You didn't know this would happen." Then she looked at John and smiled. To him she said, "You did what you thought was right." John looked at the floor.

The rest of the nearly hour-long ride was silent. When the truck finally stopped, the two men in the back threw open the back doors and jumped out. They were obviously in a suburb of New York City.

Before them stood a large house overlooking what seemed to be a forest. They couldn't see any other homes.

"Let's go," one of the men said. "This is the safe house."

At that, John pulled his gun and pointed it at one of the men. Before he could say anything, another of their captors said, "Go ahead, kill him. He doesn't matter any more than you or I. Besides, I'll drop you like a rock the moment you pull the trigger."

"Well, if you're going to kill me," John started, "how about telling me where we are?"

"This is the safe house."

"Come on, you know what I mean," he shot back with an expletive or two to show his anger.

"We are in Port Chester. Down beyond the trees is the Long Island Sound. Do you feel better?"

"You aren't from the police department, are you?"

"No, we aren't."

"Where are you from? Who do you work for?"

"You'll find that out tonight. Q. and A. time is over, put the gun away or shoot my man so we can move on."

John pointed the gun to the ground and moved to hand it to one of the men, but was told they didn't want it.

"I told you in the van, that thing won't help you. Keep it."

As John put the gun back into its holster, Susan walked up to him and took his hand. He looked down at her smiling face and everything seemed better somehow. He smiled back, but almost felt like crying.

This was his fault and he knew it. Everyone knew it. But this little girl was telling him that it was O.K. And it was O.K.

Wayne walked over and put his hand on John's shoulder before moving around him and taking Susan's other hand. "It's O.K., you did the right thing. You couldn't have known," he said.

The four adults escorted Susan into the house with their heavily armed guards in tow.

The house was as grand inside as it was outside. Everything was solid wood and finely made. The entry room was at least 30 feet high with a central staircase that went up to the second floor directly in front of the entry. There were hallways on either side of the staircase, but it was impossible to see what was at the end. On either side of the room, were large doors.

"Go through the door on the right, you'll be waiting in the guest suite," they were told. "You should find everything you need with a little exploring."

They passed through the door and found that they were in a lovely living room. A dining room and kitchen were off to one side and bedrooms were on the other side. There were, however, no windows at all.

"Hope you enjoy your stay," they were told as the door to the foyer was closed and locked.

0092
Sabastian woke early. During his sleep, he dreamed of Susan. Something was wrong, but he did not know what. He felt as if she were trapped somewhere.

He hoped that Sol had arranged for him to slip away unnoticed again as he stepped from his home. Looking around, the night seemed unusually still, as if this were the calm before a storm.

There were no Enforcers waiting for him, so he assumed Sol was giving him time to explore. His first stop, he decided, was to see if Susan and Janet Long had returned from their trip.

He moved quickly through the streets to Janet's building and found that there were two Enforcers outside waiting. He assumed they were waiting for him.

It was obvious to Sabastian that the time for deception was over. If there were enforcers here, they must know about Susan. He felt a pain deep in his heart. He had to find Susan now, he thought, or she might soon be killed.

Sabastian walked out into the street and asked, "Are you going to summon your friends in the apartment to help you or do you believe yourselves strong enough to kill me on your own?"

Turning, a large black Enforcer said, "Baal told us you were perceptive." He laughed and then continued, "They call me Mad Dog and I'm gonna sic my ass on you!" With that, he launched himself at Sabastian, catching him in the midsection and sending him into the side of a parked car.

Mad Dog pulled Sabastian out from the destroyed car and lifted him above his head. He was laughing loudly, "And Baal said you would be hard to kill!"

At that, Sabastian shoved his hand down through the top of Mad Dog's skull, causing him to fall to the ground. Sabastian, however, landed on his feet and said quietly to the second guard, "Your turn."

The Enforcer started to run toward the building, but before he even got to the door Sabastian had him by the neck and was draining his life away.

Before his victim passed out, though, he relented. Pulling the limp body so they were face to face, he asked, "Are you here on Baal's orders?"

The Enforcer said nothing and simply faded into death.

"Time to meet the two in the building," he thought, as he walked in.

0093
Sabastian ran up to the apartment Wayne told him about. The door was closed.

He thought about bursting in, but decided, instead, to knock.

A woman's voice answered, "Come in."

Sabastian opened the door and stepped in.

A tall woman with short blond hair was laying on the couch in the living room. She was barely wearing any clothing. She looked directly into Sabastian's eyes, obviously trying to keep his attention focused on her.

"Well," she said, "you are as handsome as they say."

As she completed her sentence, another Enforcer came at Sabastian from behind the door yelling, "But are you..."

He never had a chance to finish his sentence. With one hand, Sabastian drew the Enforcer to his mouth and drained him.

As the limp body fell, the female Enforcer got up and moved behind the couch.

"I guess it's also true that you feed on your own kind," she said, nervously.

"Yes, and I will feed on you before we are through. But first, you will tell me where the girl is."

"And what's to stop me from..." she started to ask, but before she had completed the question Sabastian had her pinned to the wall.

She looked deeply into Sabastian's eyes and said, "I don't want to die."

"Where is the girl?" he asked, noting that the Enforcer was being genuine with him.

"I don't know."

"I believe you," Sabastian stated. "Who sent you to kill me?"

"Baal."

"Who does Baal work for?"

"I am an Enforcer, I follow orders. He is my superior. I assume his orders came from the Tribunal."

"You are saying that the Tribunal has the girl?"

"I don't know for certain, she and her friends may already be dead. But that is what I assumed when Baal told me to come here and wait for you."

"Did you expect I would be easy to kill?"

"No, but I thought four Enforcers would be able to handle the job."

"You are young," he said. "It is odd he would send someone so young."

"Yes, but the others were not so young. I believe I was meant to be a distraction."

"I am sorry that I have to kill you. In another situation, I would have welcomed such distraction."

"I believe you," she said as she tilted her neck for him.

0094
Sabastian ran through the streets. He knew that time was short. If the Tribunal had Susan, it would kill her. Elizabeth had made that perfectly clear. He was still unsure where to turn for answers, but he knew that it was Elizabeth that ran the Tribunal.

The Enforcers follow orders. They are bound to this by penalty of death. The orders had to come from somewhere and Elizabeth was, ultimately, in command. Even so, Elizabeth was the only one he could turn to for information.

Sabastian couldn't help but think that if he hadn't spared her life when they broke their coven, this entire situation might have been avoided.

His patience gone, Sabastian burst into Elizabeth's home. Sol stood across the foyer with a look of shock on his face.

"Where is she?" Sabastian demanded.

"I don't know."

"Someone ordered her capture, who was it?"

"Elizabeth has been taken?" Sol asked with a look of horror in his eyes.

Sabastian rushed Sol, throwing him across the room. "Do not mock me further than you already have. I do not care about Elizabeth, she can rot in hell. Who has the girl?"

"I don't know," Sol answered, leading Sabastian to hurl him into a nearby wall. Sol fell to the ground, coughing up blood. "Sabastian, the Tribunal has fallen," he sputtered. "When you last saw us, we were going to kill off all that opposed Elizabeth. But no one attended the meeting. We went for a fight, but there was no one there to fight.

"The covens are aligning themselves as we speak. There's going to be a battle for control of the city."

"I do not believe you," Sabastian said, lifting Sol with one hand. "I will kill you if I have to."

"He is telling you the truth," a man's voice came from behind.

Turning, with Sol still in his grasp, Sabastian said, "Thomas, it has been a long time. Are you going to try to kill me yourself this time, or do you have a battalion of flunkies ready to do your dirty work?"

"I'm not here to fight, I'm here to help. Sol does not know anything more then he has told you, and what he has said is the truth.

"As we speak, Elizabeth is mustering what support she can to defend the Tribunal and herself."

"I do not care about the Tribunal or its affairs. Nor do I care about Elizabeth," Sabastian said angrily, letting Sol fall to the ground. "Where is the girl?"

"My guess is that Baal has her," Thomas said calmly.

"Baal is not smart enough to act on his own, who commands him?"

"He is of Smithson blood."

"Where do I find this clan?"

"They are a powerful and large clan, you will not find them so easy to dispatch," said Thomas.

"Then I will go to my death, a fact I am sure will not upset you."

"Their main coven is in a Northern suburb called Port Chester. Sol can lead you, I'll arrange for a car."

0095
"I do not trust you," Sabastian said to Thomas.

"You shouldn't trust me, but I'm afraid you have no choice but to do as I say if you want to see the child live."

Struggling to his feet, Sol said, "Sabastian, you may not trust Thomas, but you can trust me. I know where this coven house is and I will take you there. We can use my car."

"I am not sure if I can trust you or not Sol, but Thomas is correct that I have no choice in the matter. I will go with you."

Sabastian put an arm around Sol to support him. The pair walked out of Elizabeth's house with Thomas watching quietly.

The situation in Port Chester, meanwhile, was growing worse with every moment that passed.

Shortly after nightfall, Susan and her companions could hear people arriving at the house in an almost constant stream. For nearly two hours cars pulled up and dropped people off.

Standing by the door, John could hear as each guest was greeted in hushed tones. What happened after the greeting, though, he could not tell.

"What could possibly be going on?" Wayne asked.

"They're here to see me," Susan answered, lifting her head from Claudia's lap, where it had been resting for most of their captivity.

"What?" Janet asked, with a look of horror on her face.

"They're here to see me cause I saw Sabastian give mommy what she wanted."

"What was that honey?" Wayne asked.

"He saved her from herself."

"Sabastian killed your mother?" John asked the little girl.

"I suppose you could say that, but it wouldn't be right."

"He give her salvation," Claudia started. "She try kill self with drugs, but she not brave enough to actually kill self. After all, she had little one to think of," she said putting her hand on Susan's head.

Claudia continued, "He took her life when she not able to take own. But, most important, he took child as his own.

"Child, I believe your mother die in peace."

"I know she did," Susan said, laying her head back down.

"For whatever that's worth," John said, "I still want to know what's going on around here." This was, as per his custom, laced with profanity.

As he went back to listening at the door, it swung open causing him to jump back. He went down on one knee, pulled his gun out, and pointed it at the man in the doorway.

"Please, stand up and put your gun away," the man said. He was well dressed and groomed, and not the least bit afraid of John's weapon. "I am Paul."

0096
Realizing that a gun wasn't going to help, John put it away and stood up.

"Thank you," Paul said. "Will you all please follow me, the Coven Master would like to speak with you."

"And what if we refuse to go?" Janet voiced, standing in front of Susan, who was still resting her head on Claudia's lap.

"That would be unfortunate," Paul answered.

"It's O.K.," Susan said, as she got up and took Janet's hand. "There's nothin to do now but go with him."

"The cards have been laid," Claudia added.

Janet knelt down and looked Susan in the face. She asked, "What's going to happen?"

Slowly, Susan looked each person in the room in the face, including Paul, and answered, "I don't know." She looked down at the floor.

Claudia stood next to her and held her at her side. They exchanged a sad look.

"If we have to meet this Coven guy, let's do it," Wayne announced.

"Well then," Paul said, "please follow me." They left the room with John and Paul up front and Claudia and Susan in the back.

While they walked, Paul explained that they were going into the main meeting hall. They were using the back entrance that led to the stage. The audience, as he described the guests that had arrived, would be in the auditorium spread between a balcony and floor seating.

During Paul's speech, Claudia, without looking down, asked Susan, "You know what is to happen, don't you little one?"

"I think I do."

"It will be bad?"

"Yes."

Claudia asked no more questions, but simply said, "The cards have been laid," again.

"This is the rear entrance," Paul announced as they stopped before a pair of massive doors guarded by two men. He nodded to them and they swung them open.

Once open, they could hear talking in the hall. It wasn't English, it was a much older language. One that none of them understood.

0097
They were escorted in and Paul brought them onto the stage. There were seats already set up for them.

Bright lights shone from the balcony and stage floor, so they could only see a few of the first rows. There was no sound at all as they entered.

Quietly Paul asked them to sit, which they did.

On the opposite side of the stage, there were three people sitting in large chairs. One, in the center, held an old man who was hunched over. In the other chairs sat a young woman and a young man. There was a middle-aged man at a podium. All four were watching as Susan and her group was seated.

Paul left the stage after the five found their seats. The man at the podium looked at the people in the three chairs, nodded his head and began to speak to the crowd. He was talking in the same foreign language that the group heard through the doors to the stage.

After several minutes, Susan stood up and in a loud voice said, "We don't know what you're saying."

A murmur ran through the crowd and then it fell silent. The speaker turned and looked at the little girl. The old man lifted his slumped head. The two seated at his sides looked at each other with astonished expressions.

At first all four of Susan's companions were stunned at what she had done. Then, almost instinctively, Janet started to move to get Susan, but Claudia stopped her by grabbing her arm. The two exchanged a look, and Janet sat down.

The speaker stepped from the podium and walked over to Susan. She did not waver and never changed her serious expression. Their eyes were locked the entire time. When he stood in front of her, he lowered himself to her level.

At that, Janet could no longer restrain herself. She stood up and said, "She's just a girl, don't hurt her."

The speaker looked at Janet, but Claudia had already pulled her back to her seat. Quietly Claudia said, "She is special girl, she know better what to do." Janet started to tear.

The speaker and Susan were locked in each other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity before he turned to look at the old man. The old man nodded at the speaker, who than turned back to Susan.

Pulling his head back and tilting it slightly, he said, "You are quite right, you would not be able to understand the old languages. We will use your tongue." At that he stood up and walked back to the podium.

Once at the podium, he turned to Susan and nodded. She sat down and he began to speak again, but this time in English.

"As I was saying," he started, "these five are a symptom of a greater problem. The Tribunal has become a toothless and useless entity unable to enforce its own rules."

0098
"I believe, Coven Master, that the Tribunal is little more than a failed experiment. There are only two covens in this city of any power, Thomas' clan and ours.

"Thomas has abandoned his coven and the post as head of the Tribunal. I assert that this is an indication that he, too, sees the Tribunal as a failure.

"It is time to end the charade. We must go back to the ways of the Old World. We existed here before Thomas, before he imposed the mockery of the Tribunal.

"We must reclaim the city as our own. And we must begin today, we must begin now, by meting out the justice that the Tribunal could not."

The crowed erupted in cheers. John looked out over the audience, but could see little through the bright lights. The din of the cheers, however, sounded like there were thousands of people.

When the cheers died down, the woman sitting beside the old man said, "Well spoken brother. But I have a different point to offer."

The man at the podium bowed and left the stage.

The woman rose and walked to Susan. "Hello child," she said. "My name is Mary."

"Hello Mary, my name is Susan."

"May I pick you up?"

"Yes," Susan answered and spread out her arms.

"Don't touch her," Wayne shot out, standing. As Wayne got up, John pulled his gun out.

The woman smiled and picked Susan up anyway. Susan looked back at the two men trying to protect her and said, "It's O.K., she doesn't want to hurt me."

Turning to the audience, the woman said, "Do any of you remember the days before the Tribunal?

"If you do, you are lucky to be alive. The battles between the Covens were fierce, deadly. The Tribunal ended a sad period in our history marked by bloodshed.

"I cannot argue that the Tribunal is perfect. It is not. But to disband the Tribunal would plunge us headlong into a world of infighting and power mongering.

"This little girl, and those her life has touched," she said, waving her hand at Claudia, Janet, Wayne and John," should not end the peace and prosperity the Tribunal has brought.

"The laws of the Tribunal have not been upheld. I believe we should uphold the Tribunal structure, but vet out those that impede justice and break the laws that have allowed us to prosper as we do today.

"Elizabeth and those loyal to her must be dealt with. We must fight to cleanse The Tribunal, not fight to destroy it. This includes finally dealing with Sabastian."

At that a murmur rose up, that continued to grow. It grew until there were open arguments in the crowd. Suddenly, the old man slammed his hand on the arm of his chair and stood. The crowd went silent.

0099
"I have lived through a great many years," the old man started, "more than any here can claim. I remember the persecution our clan lived with in the Old World. We were the hunted because we were of ignoble birth.

"The New World offered us salvation from that. But it brought other problems, problems that Mary has only hinted at." He was pointing to the young woman, who was now sitting in Susan's seat holding the little girl in her lap.

The old man continued, "At first there was so much available to us that there were no conflicts, but that only lasted a short while. We were quickly fighting each other. In New York, however, that ended with the arrival of Sabastian. He ruled the small city and allowed no one to enter.

"His reign, though, was short because the city grew around him. It became too large to control and defend. He eventually gave up.

"Infighting erupted again. Many of our kind died. The kings and queens of the Old World decided that we should be contained and controlled because we were an unruly lot. They sent Thomas and his coven.

"At first Thomas attempted to bring all of us under his control by force. But this was the New World, we would not accept his rule. Many more died in the defense of our newfound freedoms. So he created the Tribunal. It offered us democracy, a voice in our own governing.

"That was only true on the surface, however, as under the facade Thomas controlled by force. He used the Enforcers to kill off many a clan. If you did not follow Thomas, you died by Thomas' hand.

"Still, he allowed enough leeway that we felt we had freedom. We did, indeed, thrive and prosper.

"Now, however, Thomas has stepped down and left Elizabeth in control. She is an outsider that has never been involved in our affairs before. She refused to come to the New World with Thomas when the kings and queens of the Old World sent him.

"Elizabeth has focused on unity and the Tribunal is falling. I believe these experiences teach us a great deal about the Tribunal and our own nature.

"I have carefully considered these lessons. I have listened to your well thought arguments. And I have decided."

0100
After a dramatic pause, the old man stood tall and said, "We are not a race that can live comfortably together. Power and access to scarce resources drives us to conflict.

"Time and again this has proven true. The longest lasting covens are those ruled with an iron fist, not congeniality and compromise.

"Thomas' Tribunal thrived because he ruled it with force. Elizabeth's Tribunal has failed because she does not rule it. She allows infighting and compromise to waylay what needs to be done.

"We are, I believe, all angry," he said to a hail of cheers.

"We are all ready for a change." Again cheers erupted.

"We will be that agent of change!" The crowed was howling and screaming its praise for what the old man was saying.

"Like Sabastian before us, we will take this city as our own!" At this, stamping feet joined the screaming. Janet Long covered her ears because it was so loud. Susan huddled into the arms of the young woman holding her.

The young woman whispered into Susan's ear, "It's O.K. child."

Susan looked at her and without any emotion said, "No, it's not. You're going to kill my friends now."

The young woman just looked into the child's eyes as the noise subsided. She knew Susan was correct and that there was little that could be done to change the situation. "This little girl," she thought to herself, "is very special. If I could only save her."

"Now we must mete out the justice that the Tribunal would not," the old man continued. "Bring the officer forward."

Two men forcibly pulled Detective John Lewis from his seat. He struggled, but they were far too strong for him. They forced him to his knees in front of the old man.

"I am Tobias Smithson, founder of the Smithson Clan and Coven Master of all that share my ancient blood. You have learned of our secret and must die."

The old man leaned over and pulled John's head to the side. As he prepared to bear down on John, who was struggling furiously, but futilely, Wayne rushed Tobias, toppling the old man. The crowd gasped, but Tobias quickly regained his composure and threw Wayne high into the air.

Wayne hit a curtain that hung behind the stage and slid down to the floor. There was blood coming from his mouth. A tear fell on Susan's cheek and she said out loud, but quietly, "Sabastian, please hurry. I need you."

The woman holding her looked down in awe. "You know what Sabastian is don't you?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Will he attempt to save you?"

"He will save me."

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 101 to 107

0101
"It appears that you and your friends do not wish compassion. So be it," Tobias said to John. Wayne was unconscious on the floor where he fell. To the young man who had been sitting next to him, he said, "Baal, would you please bring me some rope."

"Certainly, Coven Master." He walked slowly off stage.

Tobias looked at Janet and asked, "Do you wish compassion?"

"Yes, please don't kill Susan," she answered.

"The little girl? How quaint that you should worry about her. I meant compassion for yourself.

"Come to me."

Janet started to get up when Baal came back with rope. "A reprieve, my dear, sit for now." She did as she was told.

"Baal, make two nooses and fit them over the necks of these men." Taking his time, Baal fashioned the nooses and placed them around John and Wayne's necks.

"Now, throw the ends over the rafters and pull them up."

Janet screamed and John fought more forcefully, but Baal and Tobias were unmoved. "Slowly Baal, you don't want to break their necks. You want to suffocate them."

"Yes sir."

As the two men were raised up, awful guttural choking sounds came from them. Their bodies jerked and writhed.

Claudia knelt on the floor and started to pray, and Janet started sobbing into her hands.

Susan stood up in front of the young woman on whom she had been sitting. They looked each other in the eye. After a moment, Susan walked over to the suffocating men. At first Baal moved to stop her, but Tobias waved him off.

She walked to Wayne, touched his feet, and said, "You've done what you could. I love you father." With that, his body relaxed and urine stained the front of his pants.

Baal released the rope that held Wayne and he fell in a heap on the floor in front of Susan. He laughed and looked at Susan with a broad smile. She touched Wayne's head and said, "You are free."

Then Susan turned to Baal, who was still smiling with glee. She looked him sternly in the eyes until his smile faded and he nervously looked away to break contact.

John had stopped struggling by this point and was watching Susan as his life faded away.

She looked up at him and said, "You did what you thought was right. There is no shame in that. Thank you.

"But it's time for you to go," she said, touching his feet. His eyes fluttered and then closed, and his body relaxed. Urine stained his pants and blood trickled from his mouth. Baal let his rope go, causing him to fall in front of Susan, but anger clouded his face this time, as he glared angrily at the little girl.

She didn't pay any attention to Baal, instead bending down to touch John's head. She said quietly to him, "You, too, have been freed."

A tear ran down her cheek as she slowly stood up. She looked over the bodies of the two dead men at her feet. They had worked so hard to protect her, had given their lives in an attempt to save her. They had made the ultimate sacrifice. She turned to face Tobias, and announced, "What you did was wrong. You will be justly rewarded."

0102
Tobias let out a loud and deep laugh, "I will be justly rewarded, will I?"

"What you've done is wrong, they didn't want to die."

"Yes, my dear, what I have done is wrong. I have killed indiscriminately and I revel in it. I revel in murder. I live by death. I am a devil. I am a walking, breathing demon.

"They didn't want to die," Tobias said mocking the little girl, as he walked toward her. "But what about you? Do you want to die?" he asked.

Susan stood motionless without saying anything as Tobias stood before her. Her silent strength infuriated him. "Well? Do you wish to die?" he asked in a deafeningly loud scream.

The volume of his question caused Susan to cover her ears and cower. Tobias's yell, however, brought Janet out of her fear. She looked up just in time to see Tobias raise his arm to strike Susan.

"No!" Janet screamed, as she ran to defend the little girl she had taken as her own. She lunged in front of Tobias as he brought his hand down. His blow fell with such force that it crushed her body to the floor. He had struck her head, which was now just a bloody pile of broken bones and hair.

Susan's face was sprayed with blood. First she looked down at Janet's body and then up at Tobias. Susan glared at Tobias with such anger that he broke eye contact by looking away. The determination and strength of the little girl standing before him bewildered him.

Susan knelt over Janet's bloody remains and said, "You gave me what you never had, I love you and I know you love me. Go free."

Tobias's anger peaked, as he absorbed the fact that a little girl had stared him down. In a deep, but quiet tone, he said, "It is your turn to die."

He again raised his arm to hit the little girl, but, before he could strike, the female vampire that had been at his side held his arm.

"Sire, killing humans is easy. But finding and killing one of our own, particularly one as powerful as Sabastian, is far more difficult. I suggest we keep the old woman and the little girl alive to use as bait. Once Sabastian has been killed, these two are disposable.

"If we kill them now, we may miss a chance to truly close the door on this situation. And, if we do not deal with all of the participants as our laws demand, then we can claim no more legitimacy than the Tribunal."

Much calmer, Tobias answered, "My dear Mary, you are correct. I have been hasty and rash. It is clear that the little girl should live until Sabastian is dead. The prostrated old lady will care for her until that time."

Tobias turned to the silent crowd and said, "I declare a blood hunt for Sabastian!"

0103
From the back of the auditorium, a loud and angry voice erupted. "You do not have far to look, Tobias. I stand before you, if you dare to fight me."

Sabastian stood defiantly in the center doorway, framed by the light behind him.

"Sabastian!" Susan screamed with glee. She ran to Claudia and whispered in the old lady's ear, "We'll be O.K. now. We're safe."

The audience was silent, no one moved even though they knew that a blood hunt meant they had to kill Sabastian. Even Tobias stood without a word.

"Are you all cowards?" Baal asked, breaking the quiet that had come over the room. "I am not afraid of you Sabastian," he said, launching himself into the audience.

He ran up to Sabastian with a raised fist, but before he could do anything Sabastian grabbed his hand. He wiped Baal around like a rag doll, pulled his head to one side, and drained his life in front of the entire audience.

After Baal's body fell lifeless to the ground, the hall erupted. There were screams, bodies running in all directions, and general chaos. The rumors of Sabastian's taste for the blood of his own kind put fear in the hearts of many. Many thought that Sabastian was a myth, and refused to believe that a vampire would take one of his own. Seeing him take an Enforcer with such ease, however, made the myth all too real. It turned fear and disbelief into a visceral reaction. Everyone was overcome. None had seen such an act openly perpetrated. The only thing running through the minds of almost all in the auditorium was, "Get out as fast as I can."

Since Sabastian was in the front of the room, the mob on the first floor rushed the stage and the rear exits through which Susan and the others had arrived. Those on the balcony rushed out the back, though some jumped to the orchestra in an attempt to hasten their escape.

Tobias attempted to control the situation, yelling loudly that Sabastian was but one vampire, that they outnumbered him and could easily kill him, that he was a traitor to his race, a cannibal, but none in the audience listened. A mob mentality had taken over, and getting out was all that mattered.

Realizing that he had lost control, Tobias grabbed Susan. He stood with the little girl in his arms staring at Sabastian. Only Mary remained by his side.

The three stood motionless as the auditorium emptied. They could hear the mob screaming even after the last vampire had escaped the room. The screams were deafening and horrible. As if death had come to take his own.

"Is this little girl what has brought you back from the dead?" Tobias asked mockingly.

Sabastian made no reply, he simply started to walk slowly toward the stage.

"I will kill her, you know. There is no way for you to save her."

Sabastian continued to advance.

"Mary, kill the old woman," Tobias commanded his lone supporter.

Mary looked at Claudia, who had resumed praying, but she did not move.

"Mary! Kill her."

She looked at Tobias, cowering behind a little girl, and said, "No, I will not kill for a sire afraid to fight his own battle. That hides behind little girls when confronted by failure. These deaths are on your hands, not mine."

0104
Tobias turned to look at Mary, but said nothing. His eyes, however, showed that he felt betrayed. Not just by Mary, but by his entire coven.

"Don't look at me that way. Am I to respect the great Tobias Smithson, founder of the Smithson clan for this?" Mary asked scornfully, as she waved her hand at him cowering behind a child.

At this point Sabastian jumped from the orchestra section onto the stage, landing in front of Mary.

"Sabastian," she said, nodding her head, but standing her ground. "Before all of this I assumed you were little more than a myth."

He looked past her at the bodies and then over to Tobias. "No harm would have come from them Tobias," he said.

"You broke the rules, their deaths are on your hands," Tobias replied, with a wavering voice.

"The rules are yours, not mine," Sabastian said, walking past Mary toward Tobias.

"Don't come any closer, I'll kill her."

"Then you will die."

Tobias stepped backward as Sabastian advanced until he fell over the chair and podium on which had been sitting so regally just a short while ago. On the ground, still holding Susan, he pleaded for Mary to help him, "I am your sire, help me!"

"I will not help a coward kill an innocent girl," she replied.

"Then I give her up!" He let Susan go and she ran to Sabastian and hugged his leg.

"I have given her up. See? She is unharmed. I have set her free," Tobias begged to both Mary and Sabastian in the hope that one would have pity on him.

Sabastian put his hand on Susan's head and said, "Please go to the old woman, child."

Looking up at Sabastian with a smile, she said, "Her name's Claudia."

Sabastian smiled back at Susan and corrected himself, "Please go to Claudia."

"O.K.," she replied. As she walked past Mary, she turned and smiled at the woman on whose lap she had sat. Susan stopped and put out her hand.

Mary looked at Sabastian, who simply nodded his head in approval. She took the girl's hand and together they walked to Claudia.

"I will leave the New World, I will go back to Europe," Tobias said when Sabastian turned his attention back to him.

"You will die."

"I don't want to die," Tobias replied. "I will do whatever you wish. Command me and I will do your bidding. I do not want to die."

"I do not doubt that," Sabastian said standing in front of the fallen man. He lifted Tobias up by his hair and drained the blood from his body.

As Sabastian let Tobias's body fall to the floor, a single person in the audience began to clap.

0105
"Encore, encore," the single audience member yelled while continuing to clap. "I am giving you a standing ovation, do you not at least bow?"

Sabastian ignored the man and walked to Susan. Kneeling, he picked her up with one arm. With his free hand he helped Claudia to her feet. He could sense that she was nervous, but it was Susan who said, "Don't worry Claudia, this is Sabastian, he's not gonna hurt you."

Sabastian looked into Susan's eyes and they smiled at each other. He then looked at Claudia and, nodding his head, said "Hello Claudia, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," Claudia replied nervously.

"The drama, the emotion, Sabastian you are a master thespian," the man said continuing to clap. Sabastian ignored him and walked to Mary.

"Thank you," he said to her.

"She is a special child," Mary responded.

"You have betrayed your coven, what will you do now?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"She'll go with us," Susan announced, putting her hand out to Mary again.

Mary took the little girl's hand for the second time and a smile spread across her face. "If it is acceptable to Sabastian, I think I would like that. At least for a little while."

"It is acceptable," Sabastian replied.

"Yet another happy ending, I am on the verge of tears. Where did you learn your art?" the man in the audience mockingly asked. He was still clapping loudly.

Turning to the house, Sabastian stood resolute and announced, "We are leaving now."

"Oh, but you can't go until I share your skills with my friends, I cannot keep such excellence to myself," the man said. "Come my friends, meet my most reliable ally, Sabastian the reclusive thespian!"

As he said this, the house lights came up, all three entrance ways swung open, and every enforcer loyal to the Tribunal walked in clapping and yelling. The din was deafening, causing Susan and Claudia to cover their ears.

"Learn, my children, from his loyalty. From his skill. He has killed for me like no other," the man announced over the crowd.

Sabastian stood, head held high, and yelled, "Enough!"

The audience went silent.

0106
"Thomas, what are your intentions?" Sabastian asked.

"My intentions? You have helped me to surpass even my wildest dreams. I couldn't have created this drama if I wanted to.

"The little girl, oh it added such emotion. I wish I had thought of it. It was a stroke of thespian brilliance.

"And the outcome! It is beyond what I desired. With your help I have completely eradicated my strongest opponents. And, before long, I will have destroyed all those who aren't loyal to me.

"You see, I planned the demise of the Tribunal for decades. Slowly moving contentious factions into power so that the resulting friction would topple the institution. At the same time I strengthened the Enforcers so that the vast majority of them were loyal to me and me alone.

"I thought that bringing Elizabeth, an outsider with no understanding of the New World, to head the Tribunal would be the last straw. I assumed the others would revolt. But Elizabeth proved more capable then I thought. She was actually able to maintain order and peace with cooperation. Tensions did, indeed, run high, but she managed to hold the Tribunal together.

"Elizabeth's abilities impressed me, and I am not easily impressed. I had considered her a failure in everything else she had done, but based on her performance at the head of the Tribunal, I have had to reevaluate my assessment of her.

"Your inadvertent tryst, however, toppled the house of cards. It was simply too much for the others to allow and it gave me the opportunity I needed. A few choice words of advice, however bad they happened to be, were more than enough to send Tobias and his clan on the attack. Going soft on you was the chink in the armor Tobias needed to convince his clan, and others, that control had to be wrested from Elizabeth. That she was too congenial and soft to maintain control of the city.

"You see, if I had attempted to destroy the Tribunal and take control there would have been too much resistance. But you created the rift that caused others to break the Tribunal. I have merely stepped in to restore order. I am now the savior. Imagine that Sabastian, you have made me the savior of the city!

"I will restore order by brute force and my actions will be welcomed. I will disband the Tribunal and be thanked for it. I will install myself as the head of the new order and not only will it be accepted, it will be desired.

"I can now take my rightful place as king of New York."

"And after New York?" Sabastian asked.

"You and I are very much alike Sabastian," Thomas said.

Before Thomas could continue his thought, Susan shot out with great anger, "Sabastian is nothing like you!"

"Yes child, you are correct, there are great similarities and great differences. And it is our differences that separate us now.

"Sabastian, you are welcome to stay in my city and help me to expand my control throughout the New World, but the humans, and Mary, must die."

"That is not an option," Sabastin replied.

"No, I didn't think it would be. Then you may leave with your new friends, but eventually there will be no place for you to live where you can escape my rule."

Looking at Susan, Sabastian replied, "All I need is fifteen or twenty years." He smiled, and walked down from the stage with Susan, Claudia and Mary. He moved slowly through the audience toward the rear exit.

"Sabastian, I am allowing you your freedom because of your years of faithful service," Thomas announced. "You have been the anvil on which I have crushed all of my enemies.

"When you have played out your little drama, come back. We work so well together.

"Everyone, applaud for our conquering hero," Thomas commanded and the audience erupted. Feet were stamping, hands were clapping, and voices rose up in screams.

0107
The roar of the crowd could still be heard as the small group left the auditorium. At the entrance to the house stood Elizabeth. She looked ragged and used, and had tears in her eyes.

"He followed Sol up here," she started. "He planned to send the Enforcers in to kill everyone while you fought Tobias. But even that was not needed. They ran from you like frightened animals. They ran into his waiting army. It wasn't even a fight, it was a slaughter.

"Almost all of his enemies were in that room. They wouldn't have dared to congregate like that while he was still at the head of the Tribunal.

"He used us," she said, shaking her head slightly from side to side. Finally looking Sabastian in the face, she said, "I didn't know."

"I believe you," he said, as he walked past her. Looking back over Sabastian's shoulder, Susan smiled at Elizabeth.

This simple act made Elizabeth feel as though she had been forgiven. Awkwardly, she smiled back and waved. Susan waved in return and then turned to look forward.

What she saw all around, though, brought tears to her eyes. The ground was covered with bodies. In some spots they were stacked high, one upon another. In other areas they were strewn about haphazardly.

"Do not be sad, child," Claudia said to her, "death has taken back his children. It is just."

Sabastian continued on to the car in which he arrived. Sol sat, leaning against the hood. He didn't even look up as the group approached. Sabastian could feel the shame Sol felt. He stopped at the car and stood silent for a moment. He knew that Sol was as much a pawn in all of this as Elizabeth and himself, but he didn't know what to say to him.

Susan wriggled down from Sabastian's arms and walked over to Sol. She put her small hand under his chin and lifted his head. "Come with us," she said.

He said nothing, but looked deeply at Susan.

"It's O.K., honest," she said to him.

He looked up at Sabastian. A simple nod told him all he needed to know. He stood up and followed as Sabastian resumed walking.

Susan jumped back into Sabastian's arms and asked, "So where are we going to live?"