Galen closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and turned the page.

"All Poppy could think of was the pretty bald girl in the gift shop.

"Cancer.

""But- but they can do something about it, can't they?" she said, and even to her own ears her voice sounded very young. "I mean - if they had to, they could take my pancreas out...""

Galen was one of those readers. the ones who actually said the quotes in voices. And his "Poppy voice" was scarily similar to the real Poppy voice.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course." Poppy's mother took Poppy in her arms. "I promise you; if there's something wrong, we'll do anything and everything to fix it. I'd go to the ends of the earth to make you well. You know that. And at this point we aren't even sure that there is something wrong. Dr. Franklin said that it's extremely rare for teenagers to get a tumor in the pancreas. Extremely rare. So let's not worry about things until we have to."

"Poppy felt herself relax; the pit was covered again. But somewhere near her core she still felt cold.

""I have to call James.""

"Of course you do," said Quinn.

"Her mother nodded. "Just make it quick."

"Poppy kept her fingers crossed as she dialed James's apartment. Please be there, please be there, she thought. And for once, he was. He answered laconically, but as soon as he heard her voice, he said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing - well, everything. Maybe." Poppy heard herself give a wild sort of laugh. It wasn't exactly a laugh.

""What happened?" James said sharply. "Did you have a fight with Cliff?"

""No. Cliff's at the office. And I'm going into the hospital."

""Why?"

""They think I might have cancer."

"It was a tremendous relief to say it, a sort of emotional relief. Poppy laughed again.

"Silence on the other end of the line.

""Hello?"

""I'm here," James said. Then he said, "I'm coming over."

""No, there's no point. I've got to leave in a minute." She waited for him to say that he'd come and see her in the hospital, but he didn't.

""James, would you do something for me? Would you find out whatever you can about cancer in the pancreas? Just in case."

""Is that what they think you have?"

""They don't know for sure. They're giving me some tests. I just hope they don't have to use any needles." Another laugh, but inside she was reeling. She wished James would say something comforting."

"I love you," he whispered in Poppy's ear. She smiled sadly and held on closer to him. She loved him so much.

""I'll see what I can find on the Net." His voice was unemotional, almost expressionless.

""And then you can tell me later - they'll probably let you call me at the hospital."

""Yeah."

""Okay, I have to go. My mom's waiting."

"'Take care of yourself."

"Poppy hung up, feeling empty. Her mother was standing in the doorway.

""Come on, Poppet. Let's go.""

"James, you are terrible at the whole "comforting" thing," Mary-Lynette said.

James shrugged and smiled just a little.

"James sat very still, looking at the phone without seeing it.

"She was scared, and he couldn't help her. He'd never been very good at inspirational small talk. It wasn't, he thought grimly, in his nature.

"To give comfort you had to have a comfortable view of the world. And James had seen too much of the world to have any illusions."

"Ooh, scary James!" Keller said "He sounds like Batman." This got some smiles out of the gang.

"He could deal with cold facts, though. Pushing aside a pile of assorted clutter, he turned on his laptop and dialed up the internet.

"Within minutes he was using Gopher to search the National Cancer Institute's CancerNet. The first file he found was listed "Pancreatic cancer_Patient." He scanned it. Stuff about what the pancreas did, stages of the disease, treatments. Nothing too gruesome.

"Then he went into "Pancreatic cancer_Physician" - a file meant for doctors. The first line held him paralyzed.

"Cancer of the exocrine pancreas is rarely curable.

"His eyes skimmed down the lines Overall survival rate...metastasis...poor response to chemotherapy and surgery...pain...

"Pain. Poppy was brave, but facing constant pain would crush anyone. Especially when the outlook for the future was so bleak.

"He looked at the top of the article again. Overall survival rate less than three percent. If the cancer had spread, less than one percent.

"There must be more information. James went searching again and came up with several articles from newspapers and medical journals. They were even worse than the NCI file.

"The overwhelming majority of patients will die, and die swiftly, experts say...Pancreatic cancer is usually inoperable, rapid, and debilitatingly painful...the average survival if the cancer has spread can be three weeks to three months.

"Three weeks to three months.

"James stared at his laptop's screen. His chest and throat felt tight; his vision was blurry. He tried to control it, telling himself that nothing was certain yet. Poppy was being tested; that didn't mean that she had cancer.

"But the words rang hollow in his mind. He had known for some time that something was wrong with Poppy. Something was - disturbed - inside her. He'd sensed that the rhythms of her body were slightly off; he could tell she was losing sleep. And the pain - he always knew when the pain was there. He just hadn't realized how serious it was."

"Oh Jamie," Poppy said, nuzzling close. "Jamie, why didn't you tell me?"

"You never would have believe me," James replied. "How do you tell your best friend that you can sense a tumor inside of her with your vampiric abilities because - oh wait -you're a vampire."

Poppy was quiet and tuned into the story again. James felt guilty. He should have made her go see a doctor sooner. He should have told her the pain that she was feeling was serious.

He should have realized - a lot of things.

"Poppy knows, too, he thought. Deep down, she knows that something very bad is going on, or she wouldn't have asked me to find this out. But what does she expect me to do, walk in and tell her she's going to die in a few months?

"And am I supposed to stand around and watch it?

"His lips pulled back from his teeth slightly. Not a nice smile, more of a savage grimace. He'd seen a lot of death in seventeen years. He knew the stages of dying, knew the difference betwen the moment the breathing stopped and the moment the brain turned off; knew the unmistakable ghost-like pallor of a fresh corpse. the way the eyeballs flattened out about five minutes after expiration. Now, that was a detail most people weren't familiar with. Five minutes after you die, your eyes go flat and filmy gray. And then your body starts to shrink. You actually get smaller.

"Poppy was so small already.

"He'd always been afraid of hurting her. She looked so fragile, and he could hurt somebody much stronger if he wasn't careful. That was one reason he kept a certain distance between them.

"One reason. Not the main one."

"Ooh! Let me guess!" Ash put his hand up.

Morgead pointed to him. "Yes Mr. Redfern," he said in an announcer-voice.

Ash pretended to think. "Poppy smells?" she guessed.

Morgead made an over dramatic "wrong" face. "Oh, sorry!"

"Mr. Blackthorn! Mr. Blackthorn!" called Quinn. "May I wager a guess?"

Morgead pointed at him. "He has an undeniable attraction to her meaning they're - soulmates!"

"Right on the money!" Morgead said. He and Jez went crazy. They high-fived each other and attempted to start a two-person wave. Even James and Poppy smiled a little.

"If you don't mind," Keller said, a teasing light in her eye. She pointed at Galen who playfully "harrumph"-ed.

"The other was something he couldn't put into words, not even to himself. It brought him right up to the edge of the forbidden. To face the rules that had been ingrained in him since birth.

"None of the Night People could fall in love with a human. The sentence for breaking the law was death.

"It didn't matter. He knew what he had to do now. Where he had to go.

"Cold and precise, Jaes logged off the Net. He stood, picked up his sunglasses, slid them into place. Went out into the merciless June sunlight, slamming his apartment door behind him."

"Oh, how cool of you, James-y," said Ash. "Our own James Dean. A cool rider."

"Stuff it, Ash," Mary-Lynette said with a wink at James.

"Poppy looked around the hospital room unhappily. There was nothing so awful about it, except that it was too cold, but...it was a hospital. That was the truth behind the pretty pink-and-blue curtains and the closed-circuit TV and the dinner menu decorated with cartoon characters. It was a place you didn't come unless you were Pretty Darn Sick.

"Oh, come on, she told herself. Cheer up a little/ What happened to the power of Poppytive thinking? Where's Poppyanna when you need her? Where's Mary Poppy-ins?

"God, I'm even making myself gag, she thought.

"But she found herself smiling faintly, with self-deprecating humor if nothing else. And the nurses were nice here, and the bed was extremely cool. It had a remote control on the side that bent it into every imaginable position.

"Her mother came in while she was playing with it.

""I got a hold of Cliff; he'll be here later. Meanwhile, I think you'd better change so you're ready for the tests."

"Poppy looked at the blue-and-white striped seersucker hospital robe and felt a painful spasm that seemed to reach from her stomach to her back. And something in the deepest part of her said, Please, not yet. I'll never be ready.

"James pulled his Integra into a parking space on Ferry Street near Stoneham. It wasn't a nice part of town. Tourists visiting Los Angeles avoided this area.

"The building was sagged and decrepit. Several stories were vacant, with cardboard taped over broken windows. Graffiti covered the peeling paint on the cinder-block walls.

"Even the smog seemed to hang thicker here. The air itself seemed yellow and cloying. Like a poisonous miasma, it darkened the brightest day and made everything look unreal and ominous.

"James walked to the back of the building. There, among the freight entrances of the stores in front, was one door unmarked by graffiti. The sign above it had no words. Just a picture of a black flower.

"A black iris."

"Jeez, James," said Keller. "Such descriptions. "The building was big and there was lots of smog. People were scared of the place.""

James rolled his eyes.

"James knocked. The door opened two inches, and a skinny kid in a wrinkled T-shirt peered out with beady eyes.

""It's me, Ulf," James said, resisting the temptation to kick the door in. Werewolves, he thought. Why do they have to be so territorial?

"The door opened just enough to let James in. The skinny kid glanced suspiciously outside before shutting it again.

""Go mark a fire hydrant or something," James suggested over his shoulder.

"The place looked like a small cafe. A darkened room with little round tables crammed in side by side, surrounded by wooden chairs. There were a few scattered people sitting down, all of them looking like teenagers. Two guys were playing pool in the back.

"James went over to one of the round tables where a girl was sitting. He took off his sunglasses and sat down.

""Hi, Gisele."

"The girl looked up. She had dark hair and blue eyes. Slanted, mysterious eyes which seemed to be outlined in black eyeliner - ancient-Egyptian style.

"She looked like a witch, which was no coincidence.

""James. I've missed you."Her voice was soft and husky. "How's it going these days?" She cupped her hand around the unlit candle on the table and made a quick motion as if releasing a captive bird. As her hands moved away, the candle wick burst into flame."

"Ahh, yes," Ash said. "Gisele." Mary-Lynette hit him hard. Quinn giggled.

"Still as gorgeous as ever," she said, smiling at him in the dancing golden light.

""That goes for you, too. But the truth is, I'm here on business."

"She arched an eyebrow. "Aren't you always?"

""This is different. I want to ask your...professional opinion on something."

"She spread her slender hands, silver fingernails glowing in the candle's flames. On her index finger was a ring with a black dahlia. "My powers are at your disposal. Is there someone you want cursed? Or maybe you want to attract good luck or prosperity. I know you can't need a love charm."

""I want a spell - to cure a disease. I don't know if it needs to be specific to the disease, or if something more general would work. A - general health spell..."

""James." She chuckled lazily and put a hand on his, stroking lightly. "You're really worked up, aren't you? I've never seen you like this."

"It was true; he was experiencing a major loss of control. He worked against it, disciplining himself into perfect stillness.

""What particular disease are we talking about?"Gisele asked, when he didn't speak again.

""Cancer."

"Gisele threw her head back and laughed."You're telling me that your kind can get cancer? I don't believe it. Eat and breathe all you want, but don't try to convince me the lamia get human diseases."

"This was the hard part. James said quietly, "The person with the disease isn't my kind. She's not you kind, either. She's human."

"Gisele's smile disappeared. Her voice was no longer husky or lazy as she said, "An outsider? Vermin? Are you crazy, James?"

"She doesn't know anything about me or the Night World. I don't want to break any laws. I just want her well."

"The slanted blue eyes were searching his face. "Are you sure you haven't broken the laws already?" And when James looked determined not to understand this, she added in a lower voice, "Are you sure you're not in love with her?"

"James made himself meet the probing gaze directly. He spoke softly and dangerously. "Don't say that unless you want a fight."

"Gisele looked away. She played with her ring. The candle flame dwindled and died.

""James, I've known you for a long time," she said without looking up. "I don't want you to get in trouble. I believe you when you say you haven't broken any laws - but I think we'd both better forget this conversation. Just walk out now and pretend it never happened."

""And the spell?"

""There's no such thing. And if there was, I wouldn't help you. Just go."

"James went."

"What do you mean you just left?" Maggie said. "She could have given you a cure - something! I'm sure there was a spell or a-"

"There wasn't," James replied. "Gisele is all talk. She would have helped me if there was one." He turned to Poppy then. "I'm sorry I couldn't do it."

Poppy only smiled her sad little smile. "I'm here, aren't I? You did fine."

James didn't believe her.

"There was one other possibility that he could think of. He drove to Brentwood, to an area that was a different from the last as a diamond is from coal. He parked in a covered carport by a quaint adobe building with a foundation. Red a purple bougainvillea climbed up the walls to the Spanish tile on the roof.

"Walking through an archway into a courtyard, he came to an office with gold letters on the door. Jasper R. Rasmussen, Ph. D. His father was a psychologist.

"Before he could reach for the handle, the door opened and a woman came out. She was like most of his father's clients, forty-something, obviously rich, wearing a designer jogging suit and high-heeled sandals."

"What a dog," repeated Ash. "What a family to be a part of."

"She looked a little dazed and dreamy, and there were two small, rapidly healing puncture wounds on her neck.

"James went into the office. There was a waiting room, but no receptionist. Strains of Mozart came from the inner office. James knocked on the door.

""Dad?"

"The door opened to reveal a handsome man with dark hair. He was wearing a perfectly tailored gray suit and a shirt with French cuffs. He had an aura of power and purpose.

"But no of warmth. He said, "What is it, James?" in the same voice he used for his clients; throughtful, deliberate, confident.

""Do you have a minute?"

"His father glanced at his Rolex. "As a matter of fact, my next patient won't be here for half an hour."

""There's something I need to talk about."

"His father looked at him keenly, then gestured to an overstuffed chair. James eased into it, but found himself pulling forward to sit on the edge.

""What's on your mind?"

"James searched for the right words. Everything depended on whether he could make his father understand. But what were the right words? At last he settled for bluntness.

""It's Poppy. She's been sick for a while, and now they think she has cancer."

"Dr. Rasmussen looked surprised. "I'm sorry to hear that." But there was no sorrow in his voice.

""And it's bad cancer. It's incredibly painful and just about one hundred percent incurable."

""That's a pity." Again there was nothing but mild surprise in his father's voice. And suddenly James knew where that came from. It wasn't a surprise that Poppy was sick; it was surprise that James had made the trip just to tell him this.

""Dad, if she's got this cancer, she dying. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Dr. Rasmussen steepled his fingers and stared into the ruddy gloss of his mahogany desk. He spoke slowly and steadily. "James, we've been through this before. You know that your mother and I are worried about you getting too close to Poppy. Too...attached... to her."

"James felt a surge of cold rage. "Like I got too attached to Miss Emma?""

"Who's Miss Emma?" Eric asked. He looked to Thea, who shrugged.

"Spoilers," James repeated Poppy.

"Hid father didn't blink. "Something like that."

"James fought the pictures that wanted to form in his mind. He couldn't think about Miss Emma now; he needed to be detached. That was the only way to convince his father.

""Dad, what I'm trying to say is that I've known Poppy just about all my life. She's useful to me."

""How? Not in the obvious way. You've never fed on her, have you?"

"James swallowed, feeling nauseated. Feed on Poppy? Use her like that? Even the thought of it made him sick."

"See? That's sweet," Maggie said. She turned to Delos, who shook his head in non-agreement. "Well, I think it's honorable that James only wanted to be with Poppy for one reason."

"For the sex?" Morgead suggested. Jez laughed and swatted his head once more.

"No," Maggie said. "To love her. To be close with her!"

Delos shrugged. "I don't see that." Maggie rolled her eyes.

""Dad, she's my friend," he said, abandoning any pretense of objectivity. "I can't just watch her suffer. I can't. I have to do something about it.

"His father's face cleared. "I see."

"James felt dizzy with astonished relief. "You understand?"

""James, at times one can't help a certain feeling of... compassion for humans. In general, I wouldn't encourage it - but you have known Poppy a long while. You feel pity for her suffering. If you want to make that suffering shorter, then, yes, I understand."

"Us vampires are terrible people," Thierry said. "How did we get this way?"

"We were born at the top of the food chain is how," Ash said. Mary-Lynette slapped his arm.

Quinn chortled. "I was born at the top of the food chain. You were born somewhere underneath Mary-Lynette," he said. "How else would it be so easy for her to whip you into shape?"

"Boys," Keller said. "Shape-shifter were born at the top. I mean, we were the first and very best."

Everyone groaned in complaint. Keller rolled her eyes.

"The relief crashed down around James. He stared at his father for a few seconds, then said softly. "Mercy killing? I thought the Elders had put a ban on deaths in this area."

""Just be reasonably discreet bout it. As long as it seems to be natural, we'll all look the other way. There won't be any reason to call the Elders."

"There was a metallic taste in James's mouth. He stood and laughed shortly. "Thanks, Dad. You've really helped a lot."

"His father didn't seem to hear the sarcasm. "Glad to do it, James. By the way, how are things at the apartments?"

""Fine," James said emptily.

"And at school?"

""School's over, Dad," James said, and let himself out.

"In the courtyard he leaned against an adobe wall and stared at the splashing water of the fountain.

"He was out of options. Out of hope. The laws of the Night World said so.

"If Poppy had the disease, she would die from it."

Everyone was quiet for a while. They fidgeted with themselves or with their soulmates, but no one talked.

Poppy cleared her throat. "Hey, Galen, can you get me some of those leftover pancakes? They smelled so good earlier."

Galen smiled and nodded. As he went back into the kitchen, chatter started up again. Poppy leaned into James.

"What's up, Poppy?" he asked, stroking her hair.

"Thank you," was all she replied. She said it quietly, as though she were about to fall asleep.

James mirrored her sad little smile. "But I couldn't do it, baby. I couldn't save you and keep you human."

"But you tried."

Poppy and James's eyes met. Then, slowly, his eyes closed and he leaned his forehead down to rest it on hers. She pushed her chin up to meet his lips in a small kiss. She knew that he blamed himself, but there was nothing he could do. There was no spell. She would have died without him.

I hope you know that, she thought to him. He shrugged and looked away from her. Before she could continue, Galen brought her over a small plate of pancakes.

"Thank you Galen." She took the plate from him. He then handed her the book.

"I think it's your turn to read."

Poppy shoved another large bite of pancakes into her mouth and took the book from him. She flipped to a new page and began.