I could land in the middle of the Tetons with nothing but a book of matches and a pocketknife and be in Jackson for dinner time tomorrow, but for the life of me I had no idea where we were now. All I know was that we stopped in front of a row of brownstone apartments that didn't look much like a Count Dracula castle at all. It was really a little disappointing. One of them got out of the limo and held the door open for me. "I must ask that you wear this blindfold," he said.

"I must decline," I answered thoughtfully "There is no other way for you to have an audience with Julius."

"All right but let's get a few things straight. You are going to walk in front of me with my shotgun pressed into your back.

Anything strange, you die. Agreed?"

"Please try to refrain from pulling the trigger unprovoked." They snuggled a silk scarf over my eyes and true to his word, he let me snuggle the barrel into his back and off we went. Judging by the feel of the ground and the sound of Rex's paws beside me, we walked up stone stairs and went into one of the houses, into what I figured, after hearing Rex's toenail click-clacking on the tiles, must be a lobby of sorts. We passed through another set of doors and I felt cool air on my face and, surprising, a sweet smell of grass and pine mixed up in the pungent odor of the city. We traveled down a sidewalk or a path, up a flight of low, deep stairs and back inside. The door closed behind me and I felt hands undoing the blindfold. We all breathed a sigh of relief as it became clear I wasn't going to accidentally blow a hole in nobody and, at least for now, my blood was safe.

"Julius is waiting," he said. "You may leave your bag here. Your gun as well, if you feel safe enough."

I laughed and kept walking, gun and bag in tow. He caught up to me and led me up a spiral staircase carpeted in what seemed like a foot of red velvet. Rex padded along beside me with a strange look to his eyes caused, no doubt, by being so deep in the heart of the wild kingdom. We walked up three flights and the whole way I couldn't help but think someone was watching because the hair on the back of my neck was standing up and waving at the hair on my shoulders.

He pointed to a massive door at the end of the hall, bowed low at me, and scurried off. I strolled on down to the door, took a deep breath and then grabbed the brass handles and yanked it open. They swung open to reveal a man sitting behind a mahogany desk, a man who seemed pretty much used to getting things his way. There was a quill pen and old-time brass inkwell sitting on the desk next to a sheaf of heavy paper.

He stood. "You must be Tucker," he said, tugging a crease straight in his pants. He came out from behind the desk and crossed the room slow and controlled, like a big cat after a little bird. He offered his hand.

"Yeah, that's right," I said, taking it. It was cold like marble and the strength of his grip was barely contained. He could've squeezed my hand to jelly if he'd wanted.

"I'm Julius," he said. "I'm... a friend of Elizabeth's."

"Where I come from, friends don't do what you done."

He smiled, but there wasn't much to it. "I'm afraid there has been a bit of a misunderstanding."

"Naw, I don't think so. In fact, I think I understand pretty well. You're a murdering Vampire that took my woman and I aim to get her back."

"I see you're a man not afraid to speak your mind. All a matter of upbringing, I suppose." He gestured at the bar behind him, set into a mirrored alcove and glittering with row after row of bottles and crystal tumblers. "Care for a drink?"

"Look, I ain't here to dance around with you. I come for Lizzie. That is," I said, hating to look a gift horse in the mouth, "unless you got some whiskey in there somewhere." What the hell, no sense hurting his feelings before I killed him.

"Maker's Mark all right?" I nodded and watched as he poured a triple shot. He handed it to me and drifted over behind the desk again.

"Damn, that's good," I said, taking a sip. "Thank you much. Now whyn't you save us both a load of trouble and tell me where Lizzie is?"

He gazed absently out the window behind his desk. At last he said, "We no longer have her."

I set my glass down, empty. "What the hell you mean you don't have her? You took her."

"We did take her. She got away."

"You're lying," I said. "Don't pull that shit on me, Dracula. You're gonna get her for me, now. And you better pray to whatever God you call your own that she's all right."

A storm cloud come across his face and I could tell he was fighting to choke back rising anger. I half expected him to come for me and half hoped he would. I was ready.

"Tucker," he said slowly, "you cannot frighten me. I have been a part of this world for nearly 1,800 years. I have seen many powerful men." He looked at me with a barely contained sneer. "I assure you, none of them did me any harm whatsoever. Your wrath is, please don't take this the wrong way, laughable."

The whole time he was talking I was reaching nonchalant for the crucifix tucked into my waistband and I drew it out with a flourish and shoved into his face. "That's right," I said. "Not so high and mighty now, are you. How's that feel?"

"Painfully embarrassing, actually," he said, plucking it out of my hand. "For you."

Not exactly the reaction I had been hoping for. I had kind of planned on standing over him as he writhed in agony, getting the information I needed, then standing on his neck while I drove a stake right through his evil heart.

"What the hell? I thought crosses made you burst into flames or something."

"More whiskey?"

I slumped back onto the couch, dejected. "Yeah, I reckon."

He dropped the crucifix into a brass trash can and then refilled my glass.

"Hey, wait a minute, fetch that out, it was Mom's."

"Think about it, Tucker," he said, casually retrieving the crucifix and then sitting down opposite me. "You're a man of the world, a horseback philosopher so to speak. Why would a crucifix, in this day and age, cause me even the slightest pang?"

I felt kind of like a kid in school when the teacher is asking a question and I didn't know the answer 'cause I hadn't done the homework, since I'd been out hunting rabbits. I crossed my legs and looked hard at my boots, the duct tape unraveling there. "I always figured it was because God didn't like y'all much."

Julius dismissed my notion with a wave. "God created Vampires."

"Not the devil?"

"Have you ever read the Bible? I have some particularly rare copies. Perhaps I could lend you one. Satan was not a creator. He was just, how should I say, misunderstood. He was an angel, in fact."

I was feeling a little stupid now, and getting loose from the whiskey "How come them Hollywood types make it look like crucifixes work?"

"A long, long time ago they did. In the dark ages, man believed fervently in God. He had faith in a higher power of good. The crucifix was a dramatic symbol of this belief. The cross, symbol of your good God, was believed power enough to ward us off.

To our everlasting shame, we believed man was right only because Vampires are as prone to erroneous beliefs as humans. Now, however, humankind has as much faith in God as they have in their legal system. Its a dim, barely conceivable notion that once made sense. The crucifix no longer holds the power of faith for you, so why should it have any power over us? It has to work both ways. Do you understand?"

I nodded, shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Deep inside the front pocket of my jacket was one of them duct-taped grenades and I looped my forefinger around the pin. I felt the bulk of the explosive and it was only slightly reassuring. If I popped it in this room, we would both be gone. It was obviously going to be a damn site more effective than a crucifix. Just to keep the conversation going I said, "What about wood? How come that works?"

His voice took on a hollow echo as I reckoned he was thinking about them two boys of his now gone to ash. "Unfortunately, we do not understand its mechanism ourselves."

"What about sunlight?"

"Sunlight is the bane of our existence. Its rays are as a poison unto us. This is the price we pay for immortality When I was a young Vampire, a hundred years old, I tested the sun. I fought the urge to blackness, fought death. At dawn, as the sun crept over the horizon, I held my hand past the windowsill." I could see the memory slipping into his eyes and I knew it to be real.

"The pain was remarkable. I'll never forget it. It was like holding onto damnation. I fled to my coffin and have never been as close to the sun again." He ruminated a moment. "Enough questions."

I nodded. "You're right. Let's get down to brass tacks." I pulled the grenade out of my pocket and yanked out the pin, tossing it on the desktop. "So quiet you could've heard a pin drop," I said.

All trace of civility disappeared. There was open scorn in his eyes. "And what is that?"

"This is a thermite grenade. You up on current military technology?" He waved the question away as if absurd. "It's liquid fire.

Enough to turn this office into Mt. St. Helens."

"You'd be destroyed as well," he blustered and believe me, it was a sight I enjoyed. Probably been a couple hundred years since anyone ruffled that smooth exterior. Never underestimate a cowboy.

"I'd rather die than live without Lizzie. You make the choice."

His eyes took on a look like when you drop a rock onto real thick ice and the fractures drive down and out. "Put the pin back.

No need to do something we both will regret. I am sorry about this," he chose his words careful, "misunderstanding, but know that we allowed you to live. It's an act of good faith."

I didn't make a move for the pin, just let him watch my fist and how close it was to our deaths. "Misunderstanding or not, y'all took Lizzie and you killed my horse. I want her back. And there has got to be a reckoning for my horse."

"As I said, we do not have Lizzie. Again, I apologize for my associates. They were a little, shall we say, enthusiastic."

"They damn near enthused my head right off my shoulders."

He cut me off with a chop of his hand. "No one was supposed to get hurt. Their instructions were quite simply to bring me Lizzie."

"What do you want with her?"

"Quite simple, really," He looked at me levelly "She is our Queen."

That shut me up. I really didn't know what to say so I just put the pin back in and stuck the grenade back in my pocket, but I kept my hand around it.

He continued. "She didn't know. She has lived her life until this point unaware. It was our intention to, ah, remind her. Wake it up in her. Unfortunately we were unprepared for her response."

"What exactly was her response?"

He sighed. "She chose to part ways with us."

"That's one thing she's done right so far."

"I guess that depends on your perspective."

"Let me tell you something about my perspective. I'm pissed. I'm a long way from where I belong, looking for someone that would still be right beside me if y'all hadn't waltzed in and screwed up everything. So I guess my perspective is you better come up with a pretty good reason why I shouldn't burn this goddamn place down around you and shoot everything that tries to run out the doors." Man, saying that felt good.

He just sat stock still and tried to keep from jumping over the table at me. "While we may have been a bit overeager, the fact is, she is crucial to my people."

"Keep going."

He pressed his fingertips together, as if meditating. "Lizzie represents a union between two of the most venerable blood lines of Vampire genealogy. When this is made known to the Vampiric world, she will be able to assume the royal mantle waiting for her and put an end to the entropy that has gripped our world."

"Just out of curiosity, does she have a say in any of this?"

"She is a figurehead, an instrument of history. She has no choice but to honor the legacy she represents."

I still didn't believe him. There had to be more to it than needing Lizzie for a Vampire princess. I kinda shook my head real hard, rattled around the rocks inside. Lizzie was not a Vampire. "Just for the sake of conversation, let me tell you how things are gonna work out. She don't want to be your Queen. Hell, she don't even want to see you ever again. When I find her, I aim on taking her back to Wyoming. And if I ever see any of y'all sneaking around her, you're dead. And I mean dead like forever, not just during the daytime. Are we clear?"

I suppose he wasn't used to being talked to like that but seemed to take it well. He nodded. "I think that would be for the best.

However, I feel a certain sense of obligation in finding her. After this revelation, she must certainly be feeling confused, lost. I am scared for her, as I know you must be. Perhaps," he tilted his head inquisitively my way, "we could be of mutual assistance to one another. There's no reason we couldn't work together. At least until we find out for certain what she wants."

"Reckon I'll have to think about that."

"Please do so. You are welcome to stay here. You must be exhausted after your trip."

"Yeah, but I'd feel better out looking for her."

"New York is a big city. My men are looking at her familiar places. If they find her, she will be brought here and you will be notified immediately."

"I don't know..." The thought of a few hours of shuteye was sounding pretty good.

"You will be quite safe here, both you and your dog. You have my word."

Sounded as reasonable as I could expect under the circumstances. I hoisted the shotgun up in one hand. "I know I'll be safe."

He smiled thinly. "There are others here, mortals. They will see to your needs during the day. Tomorrow night, we shall talk again."