A/N: Yes, I'm using the same strategy I used before when I needed to know what was going on outside the main cast. Hey, it works. That's the whole point of this thing - fnding what works and what doesn't. Having the occasional chapter entirely devoted to action happening outside the main cast clearly works.

I've been reading a very good book lately called "The Complete Conversations With God," by Neale Donald Walsch. It is a compilation of his "Conversations With God," Books 1, 2, and 3. The premise is that he had conversations with God through writing, and published them. I highly recommend this book to anyone who's still readng this story. Some of its content may seem familiar, and the presentation method is clearly your style.

So. What's been going on with the vampires since we last saw them?

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Soye

More than a week in the past…

Soye faced the same task Konan had: breaking a group of people out of a long-held worldview. She used the same strategy to accomplish it. But she did not have a god on her side, so she was not equally successful.

That night, Kivi spread word of her orders for increased observation. Many, many vampires were forced out of their nightly routines to make this possible. Soye was glad for that, as it allowed her to make plans undisturbed.

The day afterward carried an ominous weight. In the daytime, the sun forced them into their basements. This effectively divided the vampires' lives into communal activity during the night and solitary activity during the day. Sure enough, that night, when it was possible to travel from house to house and communicate, Soye received a lot of complaint letters that her kin had spent the day carefully drafting. And after spending the whole day stewing in their own private thoughts, they weren't going to calm down. She expected that and planned to take advantage of it. Most of the complaints she received were filled with confusion - why was so much supervision necessary? Why were the beast humans suddenly a priority? Were the heretic's friends expected to make a move? She relaxed the supervision for one night in order to let the individual pots of confusion that had ripened to perfection in the daytime mix together until she, making her own observations in the neighborhoods around her house, sensed the mixture was ready to boil over. Then she sent five different people to spread the news as fast as they could that she wanted to have a full meeting. Every vampire was expected to be in attendance. Naturally, they all came.

Kivi stopped at her house almost immediately. She raised a hand in a gesture that meant, Do not worry. She would not implicate him in what she said this night. Any backlash was to be hers alone. But Kivi hesitated to leave. He looked torn. Was he considering disobeying her orders out of a foolish desire to protect her? That was not how vampires did things. He wisely reconsidered and left the area, joining the throngs that were streaming toward the planned meeting place: the old car lot.

Soye took her place on top of the hollow building, grateful for its bulk on this night. When a full meeting was held, the traditional place to be was on top of the building so the leader could be seen and heard by all. At this particular meeting, she realized it also protected her. She did not need a guard because she could flee before furious attackers could possibly scale the face of the building. How strange. I never considered that before. Uprisings haven't been a concern in centuries, and now I might provoke a new series of them. History will remember me as either a horrible villain or a great hero. She had spent much of the night reconciling herself to being remembered as a villain.

She crouched on the edge of the roof until everyone had arrived. Then, she stood. The assembled crowd immediately fell silent. They faced her in silence and stillness, obeying ancient rules of formality that worked very much to her advantage. The irony was not lost on her. But in its own strange way, it cheered her and gave her hope. No matter how correct those humans might be, we can still hold onto our own traditions. Accepting vampiric humans as brethren does not have to cost us everything. We do not have to change as much as it seemed like we had to.

"I will begin by answering your questions," Soye declared. "The beast humans are very important, but not as threats. The heretic and his friends are also important, but not as threats."

This last caused involuntary murmuring that was quickly stilled. Here I go. "More information has been gathered about the heretic. Listen closely to what I say." She looked around, confirming their obedience. "The heretic is a prophet." There were many worried exclamations. "The prophet has spoken." There were many surprised and deeply frightened exclamations. Lastly, because she knew the rule of three very well, Soye declared, "His words have been shared with us so that we may know them."

The exclamations that followed this were very quiet, but in their own way the loudest of all. It sounded like a group sigh. In that rush of air could be heard a question: Why? Soye was pleased. Her goal was to make her audience question long-held beliefs. The first step towards that goal was to make them question anything at all. From small questions could arise big ones. This was good progress.

"The prophet spoke to correct misconceptions that have threatened his people," she announced. Not quite true, but more believable. "He has been told what our people have come to believe since the last prophet. He insists that a mistake was made. The last prophet's words were twisted by those who would have war and see persecution all over the world. He insists there is no persecution and asks for peace."

Dead. Silence. Not a single question was asked. That was not a good sign. But Soye knew well the written and unwritten rules of leadership, one of which was this: every action must be completed. A leader that falters and loses the course midway is no leader at all. She had already resigned herself to villainy. So in truth, what reaction she got now would make no difference. She noticed it only in case it provided valuable information to be learned from later.

"The words of the new prophet are this:" she announced. "The god whose name we no longer speak never belonged to our people at all. It is a deity of blood and spirit, which are found everywhere. Any people may worship it. That was always the true state of things.

"Blood was never the real sacrifice. It is but a symbol of life and vitality. True worshippers do not sacrifice blood; they sacrifice life itself. This is the reason why the vampirics are accepted and appreciated." She inserted a pause here for effect. "They were seen as better worshippers because they are better worshippers." Those humans are so good at coming up with these turns of phrase.

Another quiet murmur that sounded vaguely like Why? That was promising. "Vampirics are bestial," she reminded them. "Recall the half-beast humans we met in the forest. They are not vampirics; they have no need for blood. They were there for love of the hunt. Predatory beasts sink their entire soul into the hunt. They invest it with love, joy, hunger, and life itself. To hunt is to live for them. If the god whose name we do not speak could ever belong to any one people, it would belong to them. Our mistake was to ever think that we were special and chosen. Our sin was pride."

Soye couldn't help but have high hopes for this part of her speech. This was the part where she had started to go into shock when the stitched-up human said it to her. The response she got now was mostly silence, but filled with sounds that did not quite register in the ears. Living silence, not dead. She chose to think that was good.

"Vampirics are not blameless," she said. "But can they really be considered senseless balls of rage and violence when it was our own priests that spread word of persecution and hatred? Words can be much more dangerous than teeth and claws. No; they can only be blamed as much as we can. So speaks the prophet.

"Surveillance will be resumed tomorrow night and continued until further notice in order to confirm the prophet's words and make sure the resident vampirics do not cause trouble. No action will be taken against them until and unless there is cause. The same is true regarding the beast humans. This meeting is dismissed."

Soye left the roof at a normal pace that night. But she knew, as any vampire who wishes to live must, that trouble was likely brewing behind her back. She had no idea how much.

The rest of the vampires

Most vampires practiced denial as a way of life. They pretended to be very different from vampiric humans, but they really were not. Case in point: a third of Soye's audience wanted to tear her limb from limb. Only the long-held shackles of formality restrained them.

Her audience was divided as audiences normally are when hearing news that is very important. About a third of the vampires there had secretly been having their own qualms of conscience about murdering someone who hadn't done anything wrong yet, or were devoted pacifists, or just didn't want to bother with all the energy it took to whip themselves up into righteous anger. They accepted her words easily. Well, that's a relief.

Another third of her audience had blocked out everything she said halfway through. Their fists clenched and their teeth bared. Their own leader had turned around and begun promoting heresy! Had she lost her mind? She was no longer fit to rule. But the vampire culture that led them to believe these things also insisted on formality, structure, procedure. They could not just rip all of her limbs off. Proper procedure had to be followed. The trouble with that was, nobody could recall any precedent for ousting one's leader. It wasn't done. They weren't supposed to be like those chaotic, reckless humans, having revolutions every century. After the initial burst of anger, they shuffled uncertainly. Something must be done.

The remaining third was ambivalent. These vampires had no idea what they'd just heard. Was their leader turning around and promoting heresy? But it also seemed unnecessary to keep such a strict eye on someone who hadn't done anything in the multiple decades of observation they'd kept. They weren't very religious anyway; why care? I hope we don't need to have any more of these meetings. I've got chores to catch up on.

It was easy for each vampire to identify which group the other vampires around them belonged to. Soye's detractors looked angry, her supporters smiled, and the ambivalent group began to wander away almost immediately. Supporters met detractors, and their eyes flashed. One detractor walked up to a supporter he had just caught smiling. "Don't tell me this heresy makes you happy?" he asked suspiciously.

"I wasn't a hard person in my previous life, and I haven't let vampirism make me into one. Unlike some people," she shot back. "Do you really think we should be regarding an innocent man as a murderer without cause? Aren't vampires supposed to be just and reasonable?"

"He's not a man."

"We've literally watched him since he was a kid," another supporter chimed in. "I think he's nice. Actually kind of admirable. That could be the prophet influence talking, but…"

Another two detractors joined in. "That's another thing," one of them said. "She didn't hear this directly from the prophet himself. The humans told her. Humans can lie." His companion nodded. His companion was the older, formerly military man who had accompanied Soye on the very meeting where they learned about the prophet. He admired Soye and thought her otherwise competent, but the humans must have done something to lead her astray. Perhaps they had gotten the prophet to use strange powers on her. She had to be stopped and restored to her senses before things went too far.

"Even so, I believe it," the supportive woman shot back.

"That's because you're a new age hippy who thinks drinking blood and enjoying fancy powers is all there is to our people."

"Uh, no. You're the one who thinks you get to stop being human all of a sudden. You're exactly what you accuse the vampirics of being!"

Some ambivalent vampires had stuck around knowing there would be chaos. Thanks to them, an all-out battle did not start. Vampires on both sides slunk back to their homes in time for daybreak. Day came, and with it, solitude. Stewing. Hardening.

By the next night, it was already clear that something had gone very wrong. Surveillance did not resume as ordered. The vampires had calmed down somewhat over the day and come to agree that civil war was undesirable. So they avoided each other like the plague. Detractors met with other known detractors and discussed the need for some sort of precedent. They would not stoop to whipping up revolution out of nothing. They weren't humans. One vampire who was very well-read and kept many books in his basement agreed to search through them for anything that suggested precedent.

Meanwhile, supporters met with other known supporters and fell to badmouthing the detractors. "Soye was right," one of them said. "It's our own people that are cruel and bestial! Those poor vampirics were probably innocent."

The ambivalent group tried their best to carry out Soye's orders, or at least maintain the normal amount of supervision over their territory. They chased away raccoons, picked up garbage that had blown in, and otherwise kept the community running without getting deeply involved in anyone's discussions. They became all but invisible. Kivi belonged to the ambivalent group, at least as far as anyone else knew. He petted Mraa so much she started trying to get away from him. Nobody could know about his own questions. He wanted to support his leader and, yes, friend, but how could he without risking himself and his kitten? He grabbed Mraa and snuck over to Soye's house, entering through a window even though it was not allowed. To sneak into a leader's house was forbidden by law; all entrance and exit was to be through one official entrance, and using any other would be considered a sign of treachery and punishable by death. Kivi stood in the kitchen and shook. What am I getting myself into?

Before he could make up his mind one way or the other, Soye found him there. "You look scared out of your wits," she remarked. "You'd better wipe that look off before anyone sees you."

"They aren't following your orders."

"I've seen." She looked thoroughly displeased. She probably had her own plans to deal with it. There was nothing more for him to say.

He changed the topic. "I've heard a lot of talk about how unreliable your words are because you didn't hear them directly from the prophet."

"I've heard."

"How may I be of service?"

"Extend my eyes and ears," she told him. "Continue undercover. Report whenever you have news." He crossed his head and heart, did the same for Mraa, then left.

The next night, Soye received many visitors, most of whom bore letters of complaint written by others who would have visited had her house been larger. They were all supposedly supporters, ironically. They liked her suggestion of peace, they said. But those damned detractors were ruining everything! They had to be stopped. Who knew what they were doing in their secret little covens? While listening to these rantings and putting on a show of patience, Soye couldn't help but notice other supporters who weren't currently ranting at her looking very uncomfortable with what the ranter was saying. Great. Her own side was splitting.

Over the next week, the well-read vampire compiled all sorts of sentence fragments and unclear language that lent legitimacy to the idea of overthrowing one's leader. In secret meetings, they began to draft something tentatively titled, "The Bill of Retribution." When complete, it would hopefully allow them to take their revenge without the slightest moral qualm.

Progress on the Bill was hampered when the former military vampire found out about it. He was one of Soye's most loyal guards, and lent them all a feeling of legitimacy. With his support, precedent for an overthrow was found. But as soon as he heard the full name of the Bill, he backed out. He refused to lend his support to an effort he called treason. With him went a lot of the more neutral-leaning detractors. The angry supporters were wrong. At the time they complained, the detractors held ordinary meetings at each other's houses. When treason was declared and the moderate faction split off, only then did the remaining angry detractors begin meeting in dark alleys under disguise.

It wasn't long before the angry supporters, repulsed by Soye's lack of action, split off too. They did so without telling her or any of the more moderate supporters. "She's unused to the ways of peace and doesn't yet understand how far to go," they told themselves. "In time, she will make us over into a peaceful society that is also strong enough to sustain itself. But for now, we who recognize what is necessary must take matters into our own hands." Soye herself did not pursue the secret covens (which she, accurately, believed not to exist when she heard the rants). By the time the secret covens formed, they ran the risk of being found and attacked by rogue vampires who had no official authority at all. But the members of such covens had no way of knowing this. They denounced Soye as an authoritarian and an iron-fist.

Meanwhile, the moderate supporters and some of the moderate detractors continued meeting at Soye's house. She came to believe that the greatest threat to her goal came from her own rogue supporters, who, like the Jashinist priests of old, were twisting her words and intentions. The resemblance seemed fitting. The Bill and the risk it posed was forgotten.

Forgotten, that is, until the night the humans came.

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A/N: Dear gods I love these interludes.