Dual

By Lianna Skywalker

'Hey, Li-chan! What do you want on your pizza?'

Lianna Walker looked up from The World According to Garp and smiled at the plump, full-breasted young woman in wine-red leather corset and pants. 'Just cheese, Niki. And extra sauce, if you can get it.'

'Boring,' Nicola trumpeted, then turned back to the phone. 'Half boring pizza, and half pepperoni, sausage, olives, mushrooms...'

Lianna went back to her reading, but her mind wasn't on it anymore. She wasn't even hungry; it seemed that her body, though always drained and aching, somehow didn't want to be revitalized. Her stomach rebelled if she ate more than a few bites at a sitting, and she wondered if perhaps she wasn't turning slightly Vampire. After all, they weren't much into solid foods.

'Speaking of which...' she muttered. Laying aside the paperback, she took up a small notebook and flipped open to the latest page, scanning what she'd written earlier with her black Pilot pen. Once the superstitous fear and awe had worn off of her relationship with the Patriarchs, she had become intrigued by a question that had never been answered so far as she knew: how on earth did vampires work? She'd once wanted to be a doctor, though life had gotten in the way; now she was working on the first definitive study of the anatomy and physiological workings of a species that was unrecognized and unlike any other. Under her notes on the larval stage -- humans -- she wrote: Digestive system. Complete reworking -- lack of tolerance for solids. Gradual process? Check other Family members. Certainly Niki had plenty of tolerance for solids, but then again she was part of a large Family...

With the end of the pen touched to her lips, she considered what to put down next.

'Have you gotten to reproduction yet?' Nicola asked over her shoulder.

Lianna's lips curved against the pen. Reproduction... well, she had no idea whether vampires could reproduce in the traditional mortal way, but Mason was certainly proficient in the technique... 'Bad me!' she said suddenly. 'Niki, don't make me think about that kind of thing.'

Niki smiled smugly. 'I don't see you complaining about that kind of thing.'

The leather of her outrageous outfit squealed in protest as she ducked the novel that Lianna hurled at her.

'A clan of Returns, eh?' La'avar cocked his head to one side, projecting an air of intrigued consideration. Outwardly calm, inside he was burning. He'd found seven new Returns -- well, he'd created seven new Returns, and there were more of his recruits who showed potential. If these young upstarts tried to take what he'd worked so hard to obtain --

'Created to protect Returns from any exploitation by other clans.' Their Prince -- as if one so young could possibly lead properly -- still bobbed up and down in the air, as if he hadn't already made his point by entering a meter above the floor. Foolish boy, thinking he could impress a Vampire who'd been alive when the Powers still existed, when there was no need for all this talk of Returns.

'You surely don't think I would exploit these people?' La'avar winced at the ingratiating tone in his own voice. Of course he would exploit them, damn it; that was what they were there for. That Fenris, for instance -- showoff that he was, with all his shifting and shimmering, he would still make quite an effective soldier. And the girl, Lamia, was quite pretty. Perhaps not his type -- she seemed too confident, too coarse, whereas he liked them vulnerable, delicate. But inside a day he knew he could have her groveling at his feet, and this satisfied him.

'Of course not,' Hawk said, finally lowering himself to the floor. La'avar hadn't been sure whether he could or not. 'We merely wish to offer the option. We have no desire to cause any conflict between clans.'

'My Prince --' Fenris said, with a sheepish look on his wolfish face.

'Yes, I suppose you'd better.'

'One of your Clan members -- Tobin, his name was --'

La'avar smiled. 'That was you, was it? Frankly, I was rather glad you got rid of him. He certainly caused me enough problems.'

'So I heard.' Fenris scowled. 'He and I had -- met before.'

'Oh? Do tell.'

'When I was still mortal -- I was only turned a few months ago, you understand -- I had a mortal girlfriend, of course, and Tobin fed from her. She didn't survive...'

'How sad,' La'avar said sincerely, remembering the girl's soft brown skin, how the blood from her wounds had coated it like a mahogany stain on fine wood. Tobin had fed from her, as he always did, but La'avar had killed her. Sad it had been, yes -- that she hadn't lasted longer. Her screams had been ecstasy.

'I hope that this won't change your feelings toward our clan, Prince,' Hawk said.

'Of course not.' No, I thought you were bloody idiots before, this merely confirms it. And then an idea of such hideously simple sweetness came to him that he nearly laughed out loud. Suppressing his glee with a great effort, he leaned forward. 'In fact, I want to help your clan -- and I think there's something you should know.'

'Really,' Lamia, who had been silent until now, said flatly. Her voice was oddly harsh, sibilant, and it seemed to fit well with her serpentine beauty.

'I assume you've visited other Clans. The Patriarchs, in particular.'

'Certainly. Although they were -- they'd been having problems, and we were unable to have such an audience as we'd wished,' Hawk said.

'I can tell you about those problems. About one in particular.'

'D?' Lamia asked. 'But they've found him.'

'No, no.' La'avar shook his head. 'D was never as much of a problem as is Mason.'

'But he seems harmless enough,' Fenris said.

La'avar lowered his voice. 'He was a vampire hunter before he was turned.' Manufacturing a sorrowful expression, he turned partly away, as if the pain of the memory was too much to bear. 'He killed my Princess, and tried to do the same to me. That -- that mortal girl of his tried to kill me, too.'

'The Patriarchs are more violent than they let on,' Hawk mused.

La'avar considered agreeing, but it wasn't the Patriarchs he was at war with, really... 'It's not the whole clan. Just Mason and the girl. They're both new additions, and Mason is still a vampire-hunter at heart. If the two of them were eliminated, my clan would be much safer -- and so would yours.'

'I don't see where we come into this,' Lamia said suspiciously.

'If he thinks you're in his way -- especially if he thinks you might be a threat to his precious little mortal girl --'

'I know how that is,' Fenris said. 'I don't want to deal with a guy with that kind of vendetta -- I was bad enough.'

'But we don't want to be involved with clan warfare,' Lamia insisted. 'If we helped you --'

'They don't have to know.' La'avar leaned forward. 'You're still allowed in the Citadel, whereas none of my people can make it past the front door. All you have to do is bring the girl to me -- and the Patriarchs will be certain that it was all my doing.'

'But how --'

La'avar rose and pointed to Fenris. 'You can change into a wolf, a bat -- why not a man? One whom no one will recognize? Just another faceless soldier of the High Vampires.'

'And I, also.' Lamia's body slimmed, quivered, and coiled bonelessly to the floor. A blackish-green serpent, shimmering, darted its head left and right, then rose and formed into a tall, stately black woman with close-cropped hair. 'I just have to go through the serpent first,' the apparition explained.

'Perfect.' La'avar clapped his hands, delighted. 'I hate to ask such things of you on such short notice --'

'Worry not.' Hawk bowed and smiled. 'Consider it a token of our esteem.'

'Token of our esteem?' La'avar laughed, alone in his throne room. The boy spoke like a seventeenth-century courtier -- a bad parody of one, he amended, remembering the courtiers he'd known. Oh yes, this one was as easy to manipulate as a child, and as willing to please. Within a week, he could dispose of that Darkstalkers nonsense and bring the fledgling clan into the fold, and o the power he'd have then...

The servants, wandering the halls, stopped and whispered to each other nervously, eyes wide and feral. The Master was laughing again, loud and happy and free, and they knew from long experience that someone was going to die.

Mason kissed Lianna affectionately at the door of their suite. 'Are you sure you don't want to come out with me?'

'Nah, I've got work to do on the book,' Lianna said. 'You be careful, okay?'

Mason opened his coat, displaying three stakes thrust into the handmade loops sewn to the lining. 'Always.'

When he'd gone, Lianna took out her notebook and sat cross-legged on the bed. The vampire's excretory functions are understandably limited, she wrote. Defecation is not necessary, and urination is infrequent; the urine is composed mainly of water, with a small component of plasma. This would indicate that the digestive system --

She stopped. What would it indicate again? If she could just remember the damn parts of blood -- plasma, and blood cells of course, and -- dammit. Tossing her notebook to one side, she got up and started making the rumpled king-sized bed; menial labor cleared her head.

'Lianna?'

The voice was soft, sweet, but it made her jump all the same. She turned to see a thin Asian girl, about her age, in the open doorway to the room; she had once been pretty, perhaps even beautiful, but now she was close to emaciation and her face was lined and old.

'Saint said I should talk to you. My name is Maigo.'

'Well,' Maigo said acidly, 'your first attempt at clan affiliation didn't work so well...'

'Please don't remind me, Hanako.' Sakura readied herself for the glare that her daughter always gave her when she used that name, but it didn't come. Maigo merely smiled and continued by her mother's side, down the darkened street.

'I was merely saying, Sakura, that perhaps we should try a different clan. One with little or no allegiance to La -- to the High Vampires.'

Still can't say his name, can you, Hanako? What did he do to you? What aren't you telling me? 'I see your point. What did you have in mind?'

'The Patriarchs,' Maigo said instantly. 'They're about as far from the High Vampires as you can possibly get.'

Sakura sighed. 'Why not,' she said indifferently. Suddenly, fighting with this strange girl who'd replaced her daughter had tired her. 'We do need a place to stay.'

'Refugees,' Celeste mused. 'I don't doubt it, somehow.'

Saint looked at her, one eyebrow raised. If Celeste wasn't suspicious...

'It was... a bad experience,' Sakura managed. Her mouth twisted. 'We need someplace to stay, some protection. Somewhere to let us get back on our feet...'

'And where we can get something to eat,' Maigo put in.

'Certainly,' Saint said smoothly, wondering just what lay behind the younger woman's blank ivory face. 'In fact, I think I know where you can stay.'

He remembered a day when he'd awakened, screaming, in the silent mansion; though vampires could waken during the day if they were shielded from the sun, it was rare that they chose to do so. His Family was somewhere else, the other vampires were asleep, and it had been Lianna who'd come to him as he wept in his awakening. He'd confessed everything to her -- Adam and Julia, the countless people he'd killed before joining the Patriarchs, how one of his colleagues in the Church had tried to kill him after he'd turned and how Saint had killed him first. She hadn't judged, and he had felt something of what Mason's love for her must have been. This girl before him now had obviously been through as much or more than he had in his life, though she was young and recently turned, and from the looks of it she had a story that must be told, before it festered within her and drove her completely mad.

If it hadn't already.

Saint whispered to Celeste, who took the two women away; Sakura to Celeste's quarters, and Maigo to Mason's.

'My English is bad,' the girl said. 'Please forgive me.'

'It's fine,' Lianna reassured her. 'It's not as if I know more than ten words of Japanese. Konechiwa?'

Maigo sat delicately on the edge of the bed. 'You knew I was Japanese -- I'm impressed.'

'Not all white girls are dumb.' Lianna smiled. 'Besides, I haven't seen any Chinese or Korean vampires around. It's like we're in some anime flick.'

'Hentai,' Maigo murmured.

Lianna recognized the Japanese word -- it meant 'perverse' or 'disturbing' -- and her brow wrinkled. 'Saint sent you?'

'Yes -- he said that you had an extra room, and you'd be willing to...'

'Let you feed?' Lianna's voice was as gentle as she could make it, but still Maigo flinched.

'No. I mean yes. I mean -- maybe later.' She ran her hands through her heavy black hair. 'I... haven't been very hungry lately.'

Something about the girl nagged at the corners of Lianna's mind, a memory of another's memory, black water on asphalt. 'Have you ever met a...' She paued, unsure of just what to call him, then amended her question -- 'um, the prince of the High Vampires? La'avar?'

Slowly, slowly, Maigo turned to face her, and Lianna saw the horrid blankness in her eyes that Erika had told her about. Erika's story, of the ghostly girl who wandered the halls of the High Vampires' Citadel. Lost... lost...

'Maigo?'

'That's not my name!' the girl shrieked. Her hands, crippled birds, flew up to shield her face and she pitched forward, sobbing helplessly. Lianna caught her and held her close, feeling how desperately thin she was, how cold.

It all came out, in tearing rushes of words that stumbled over one another, in fragmented phrases that choked her on their way out of her. A few times she lapsed into broken Japanese mixed with equally broken English, but Lianna could still follow the tale: Sakura's betrayal, Hanako's renaming and initiation; what La'avar had done to her, what she'd done to him, and how in her madness she'd enjoyed it.

The story didn't end so much as run out of strength; drained and limp, Maigo looked up at Lianna apprehensively. 'I must sicken you,' she whispered.

'Maigo --'

'Hanako,' the girl corrected. 'I think... I think Hanako is dead. But... I don't want to be what he called me, but... I don't know who I am anymore.'

With a fingertip, Lianna traced the kanji branded into the other girl's skin. 'La'avar is the one who sickens me, not you,' she said. 'But the name he gave you was accurate. It was never your fault -- you were just -- lost.'

'But I...' Hanako clenched her fists. 'It was horrible... but I... I liked it.'

Lianna sighed. 'Let me tell you something.' She gestured to the room around them, indicating not just the walls, Hanako understood, but the entire situation. 'Would you believe that, when I met Mason, being a vampire's permanent meal-ticket was the best option I had?'

'How's that?'

'I've had a history of what you might call dysfunctional relationships.' Lianna looked at her folded hands. 'Minimum-wage job, no living relatives, an apartment that was one step up from a cardboard box on the street... and so at night I'd go out to the bars. Try to get some guy to buy me dinner so I wouldn't have to spend the money.' Her lips twisted. 'But you know what kind of man buys girls dinner in bars, and what they expect in return.'

'You didn't have to let them.'

'Yeah, I know. But I wanted to, most of the time. I wanted someone to keep me warm -- to keep me safe from the dark.' Turning her back to Hanako, she raised the hem of her shirt. A series of scars, as from a horsewhip, crisscrossed her skin like a netting of coarse rope. 'Of course, nobody kept me safe from them.'

'God...'

'That was my last bad boyfriend.' Lianna dropped the shirt back in place. 'And then I met Mason.'

'How?'

Lianna laughed a little. 'Well, given my usual good taste in men, I managed to latch onto one of La'avar's servants. He attacked me and Mason saved my life.'

For the first time, Hanako smiled, and Lianna saw how young she really was. 'That's so sweet.'

'Yeah. Although you could say that he's just another bad boyfriend -- I mean, he keeps biting me all the time --'

'Oh, but he does it with love!' Hanako collapsed with laughter. It struck Lianna funny at the same time and she joined in. For once they were not vampire and mortal, but two teenage girls giggling over the follies of men. In that moment, they became friends.

'Are you sure?'

'Sure I'm sure. He hasn't fed from me in a week, almost.'

'I don't know.' Hanako swallowed. 'It just seems... weird.'

'Yeah, you think it's weird.' Lianna shrugged, baring her neck. 'I'll stop you, remember? It's okay.'

Hanako shuddered. 'God... so... hungry...' With a wail of desperate need, she buried her teeth in the other girl's neck. Lianna trembled and stroked her hair.

Neither noticed the door opening.

Mason swung the door open, a smile on his face. 'Hey --' The smile evaporated and he stopped dead. A skinny girl with a hungry face, a complete stranger, had her teeth sunk deep in his lover's throat. Lianna moaned, shivering in the vampire's grasp. The sound made Mason's eyes go red.

'Lianna!' He yanked a stake from his jacket, tearing the loops out of the lining, and lunged for her.

Lianna heard the scream and snapped instantly out of the pain/pleasure daze of the feeding. 'Shit --'

Hanako's slight weight tore away, her teeth ripping through skin as she was wrenched upward by Mason's fist in her hair. The stake described a high arc and plunged toward Hanako's heart.

Weak from loss of blood, praying that her aim would be true, Lianna flung her silver coin at Mason. It flipped in the air, glittering, and struck Mason's left eye. He shrieked and staggered backward, dropping both Hanako and the stake.

'Mason, Mason, it's all right.' She grabbed his arm and he stared at her from his good eye, bewildered and angry. 'Her name's Hanako, she's a friend, she was't hurting me --'

Slowly, Mason relaxed. 'You're sure you're okay?'

'A little weak. No more than usual.'

He knelt beside Hanako, who pushed herself up on one elbow. 'I'm so sorry,' he said awkwardly. 'I thought --'

'He's just a tad overprotective,' Lianna murmured, helping Hanako to her feet.

'Obviously.' Hanako inspected the contrite-looking vampire who still knelt before her. Then she bowed, deeply. 'She merits your protection, my friend. She is a good woman.'

'I know.' Mason rose, 'Probably too good for me, but I'm not complaining.' Lianna blushed bright red.

The vampires pretended not to notice.

'Hanako? Are you sure?' La'avar demanded.

'Yes, Prince.' Lamia's eyes were as unreadable as the wrap-around sunglasses she so often wore. He hadn't decided yet whether she was incredibly smart or incredibly stupid. 'That's what the mortal woman called her.'

'And what did you say happened again?'

'As I went through the air vent, in form of serpent, I heard the sound of a struggle. A tall man and an Asian girl were fighting. The third girl, the mortal, struck the man with a silver object and they stopped fighting. Then there was some talk -- I believe that they were arguing over who had feeding rights to the mortal.'

'And someone called the Asian girl "Hanako"?'

'Yes. The mortal introduced her to the tall man as such. And then they left.'

La'avar sprang from his throne and stalked past Lamia, so close that her artificial cool slipped and she flinched back from him. 'Maigo,' he muttered. 'I know where she is now -- and taking her, breaking her would be so easy...'

'My Prince?' Lamia asked nervously. La'avar grinned -- although there was need to teach the stupid cow-faced girl that interruptions were not acceptable, still she already addressed him as My Prince. Progress had been made.

'Never mind,' he said, abruptly dismissing Maigo. She'd been an amusing toy, and he wouldn't mind playing with her again given the opportunity, but now his sights were set far higher. 'I want you to bring me the mortal girl. Tomorrow night.'

'Yes, My Prince.' Lamia scuttled from the throne room. La'avar thought about calling her down -- he hadn't dismissed her -- but, like the interruptions, he let the departure slide.

Once he had Lianna, then; then would the real fun begin.

Hanako asked, but did not insist, that she be allowed to stay with Lianna. After some discussion, Mason went to Saint, who had the largest Family aside from Celeste; he hadn't fed in far too long, and two Vampires with only one Family member was trouble waiting to happen.

'You're sure you'll be okay?'

'Why are you so suspicious of her?' Lianna shook her head. 'Honestly --'

'It's not her I'm worried about. It's just everything.'

'Worrywart,' she said fondly.

'Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't worry if I didn't love you.'

Her cheeks reddened. 'Are you trying to make me blush?'

'I don't have to try very hard.'

She punched him lightly in the arm and he pretended to reel in pain. 'Get outta here, you.'

He left, laughing.

'It's almost dawn,' Hanako said softly from behind her.

She jumped a little. 'Don't sneak up on me like that.'

'I'm sorry. But it is.'

'Okay. I think I'll be sleeping for about two days.'

The mist slipped into the crack of an opened window and filtered down along the floor, clinging to the ornate wood moldings on the wall. It was tinged lightly red, but so pale that one would have had to know of its presence to detect it, and even then it took sharp eyes to discern.

A pallid mortal woman hurried by in a terrycloth robe, tying her wet hair back; her bare feet sent swirls of mist floating at random. With a sound very much like a sigh of exasperation the mist pulled itself together, becoming, for a moment, a clear gelid mass against the baseboard. The woman's footsteps faded and the mass dissolved back into mist, flowing quickly and surely toward its goal.

Lianna tied her hair back with a blue kerchief and assembled a small heap of tools: dustrag, furniture polish, mop. As far as she knew, nobody had cleaned their quarters since before Mason moved in, and a thick layer of dust covered much of the ornate furniture. She'd let it slide before, but now that she had a guest she felt the familiar shame of the lax housekeeper.

Spraying furniture polish on a rag, she attacked the master bedroom first; the carvings on the bed, the bureau, the chairs each held pockets of dust. A small cloud of it rose around her and she sneezed, waving one hand to dissipate the particles.

The cloud grew thicker, redder as she bent over the bed to clean the headboard; it seemed almost palpable. God, how long has it been since they cleaned here? she thought.

And then the arms grabbed her from behind.

'What do you mean, she's gone?' Mason demanded.

'Just that.' Saint rubbed his forehead. 'She didn't tell anyonewhere she was going, and she's not in the Citadel.'

'Where the hell is she?' He turned on Hanako, who stood in thecenter of the throne room, wide-eyed and pale. 'What the fuck did you do with her?'

'Please --' she stammered. 'I didn't --'

Sakura slammed her fist down on the arm of her chair, the movement driving her up and out of it. 'How dare you suggest that my daughter had anything to do with this?'

'Who else could have done it?'

'Mason! Mason!' Biblios rushed into the room, his glasses askew, his hair mussed. 'I found something on your desk -- it's a ransom note!'

'Give me that.' Mason snatched the piece of paper that the flustered vampire waved in his face and read it. It said simply,in an unfamiliar handwriting:

'La'avar.' The note crumpled in Mason's fingers. 'That bastard. That goddamn motherfucking bastard!'

'Mason, please,' Saint said, a pained look on his face. 'There's no need for such language.'

'The fuck there isn't!' Mason tore the note in two. 'He's got her! Can you get that through your sanctimonious little head? He's got her and he'll -- he'll --'

'I --' Hanako said helplessly.

'You came from La'avar,' Celeste said softly. 'Did you have a part in this?'

'No! I --' Sakura went to her daughter and put an arm around her shoulders. For once, she didn't resist.

'You must have.' Biblios's mouth twisted. 'It's too much of a coincidence.'

'I didn't do it!' she screamed, the sound seeming to tear her throat out.

Silence held for a moment. Then Mason, face impassive but eyes blazing, took a stake from his jacket and clenched it in his fist. 'I don't know if you did anything,' he said, his voice hard as stone. 'But right now, if you don't get out of here,I'll kill you both where you stand.'

Hanako and Sakura fled.

The servants whispered among themselves as Fenris dragged the protesting girl along by one arm. Wolf, La'avar's bodyguard, had seen her and had spread the word: this girl had almost killed their Master. Though none would dare voice the thought even in the forefront of their minds, many wished that she had carried out the deed.

Lianna wished even more that she had carried out the deed, or that she hadn't tried in the first place; it wasn't as if La'avar needed a reason to hold a grudge.

She had never been so afraid in her life.

'Welcome, child.' La'avar rose from his throne and gave a courtly bow. She saw the mocking smile on his face and wanted to slap him. 'I've so wanted to see you again.'

'Really,' she commented, trying to keep her voice neutral. 'The last time wasn't very pleasant for either of us.'

'Granted.' La'avar waved curtly at Fenris, dismissing him. The two were alone in the throne room now. 'But I'm certain we can, shall we say, make amends.'

He crossed the room and swung open a small door, one that was not secret but so unobtrusive that it might as well have been. 'Come, child. I wish to show you around my castle.'

Lianna hung back. 'I'm not sure that's necessary.'

'Please.' His eyes promised that if she hesitated further he would not bother to ask another time. She went to him; he took her arm with a firm grip, not tight enough to be painful, and led her through the door.

The hallway was close and dark; she felt incredibly uncomfortable in his grasp, though she was thankful that she wore a long-sleeved shirt. She couldn't stand the thought of his skin touching hers. Subtly she tried to shrug his hand off; he only dug his fingers in a little and kept pulling her along.

At length they came out into a room she remembered very well; when she had last been here she had seen a girl chained to the wall, had fought with La'avar and had nearly been killed by him. Every available surface sparkled with scrupulously polished tools, laid in neat rows: knives, skewers, thumbscrews, other things she could identify only by purpose, not by name.

'Here we are again.' La'avar released her arm and smiled at her.She stepped back immediately. 'But I believe that tonight I have the advantage.'

'I --'

No more words came, but he didn't seem to notice. Passing her casually, he picked up a knife and examined its blade, his back to her. 'You'll understand that I am not pleased with your actions, my child.'

'You tried to kill one of my friends. What should I have done?' She backed away again, out of his reach.

'You should have stayed out of my way.' He turned, quick as a cat, and hurled the knife at her. She didn't even have time to scream before it whistled past her, so close she could feel the wind of it stir her hair, and thudded into the door out of which they'd just come. The door that she now saw was locked -- as were all the others in the room.

He was smiling at her again.

'Maybe you should have stayed out of my way,' she said. 'Or are you the only one granted the privilege of revenge?'

La'avar blinked, obviously not accustomed to such backtalk; then he laughed. 'Perhaps you are right -- in the abstract. But here, now, I make the rules. And that will not change because of you.'

He moved -- that was all she knew - and then a blinding pain struck her across the back, stinging and obdurate. Something snapped above her and she couldn't move her arms; looking up, she saw shackles around her wrists.

She'd always read about the paralysis that fear brings; now she was experiencing it, for real. Even if she hadn't been chained, she would have been as helpless, as unable to move as she was now, as La'avar took up a delicately curved blade and glided across the floor toward her.

'I make the rules,' he repeated, smiling, tilting the blade so it reflected her terrified eyes. 'And now -- shall we play the game?'

Mason looked around the room at the remaining Council members. 'If I'm not back by tomorrow morning,' he said flatly, 'don't come after me.'

Biblios rose and laid a hand on his arm. 'Don't,' he cautioned. 'It's obviously a trap.'

'I don't care.'

'We can't lose you at this juncture.' The shorter man's face twisted in a sneer. 'Especially over some insignificant mortal --' His words cut off with a squawk as Mason grabbed his arm and hurled him against the wall. Nobody moved.

'You've had that coming for a while now, you smarmy little shit,' Mason growled. 'I wouldn't talk anymore if I were you.' Biblios gaped like a fish, mouth opening and closing, but said nothing.

'He was right about one thing,' Saint said calmly. 'You can't go rushing off to save her.'

'And why not?'

'Your first duty is to the clan.'

'My first duty is to the woman I love.' Mason's voice broke. 'She needs me.'

'We need you,' Saint said impassively.

Mason shook his head. 'I can't leave her there with him. I'm going.'

'And I'm sorry.'

'For wh--' A scalding pain clasped his wrists and he howled in shock and pain, turning to see Celeste and Nina in black gloves, holding silver chains. Already he was swaying, his sight failing. 'You --' he gasped.

'Take him to his quarters,' Saint said. 'Lock him in. Again, Mason -- I'm sorry.'

Lianna, he tried to say, but the darkness filled his mouth and he could make no sound.

She knew better than to scream; there was no one to hear her, at least no one willing to help. And she was determined not to give him the satisfaction.

The knife pressed into the soft flesh under her chin, forcing her head upward. With excruciating slowness La'avar carved a thin shallow line with the point, down her neck and over her larynx, ending at the hollow between her collarbones. She bit her tongue and managed not to cry out.

'So quiet,' La'avar mused. He leaned forward suddenly and his tongue flickered against her skin, following the trickle of blood from bottom to top. Lianna groaned in revulsion. 'I remember the taste of your blood.' He pulled back; his eyes gleamed, dreaming. 'So sweet... so... intoxicating...'

His head darted forward again and she recoiled, afraid he would bite her; instead he pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her so hard that her lower lip split and began to bleed from the pressure. This only served to encourage him, and he bit her tongue, drawing more blood.

Finally he released her. She heaved once, spat blood, utterly revolted by the sick coldness of his lips.

'You're quite a good kisser.' La'avar leered at her. 'Wonder what else you're good at?' Before she could process his meaning, the knife sliced neatly through the front of the old T-shirt she'd worn to clean house. He spread open the fabric and she wished she'd worn a bra -- not that it would have mattered.

'Lovely.' His hands were freezing -- like being groped by a dead man. Mason's hands had never been this cold.

'Stop it --'

'I'd rather not.' He knelt and ran his hands over her belly, then began unbuttoning her jeans.

'No!' she cried, trying to twist away.

'Hold still, you little bitch.' He growled and sank his teeth into her right breast, around the nipple. Lianna screamed, but he only grinned and began to suckle, obscenely like a nursing baby.

She would have welcomed the oblivion of the feeding, but he pulled back after only a few seconds and gave her a red smile. Standing, he forced his mouth on hers again, making her taste her own blood. Something cold and hard pressed against her lower belly, and she writhed in his grip. 'No --'

'Yes,' he hissed in her ear. She felt her jeans and panties shoved down. Cold hands wrenched her legs apart. She tried one last time to push him away and then he thrust upward, forward, into her.

She couldn't scream; it was beyond screaming, beyond crying, beyond sound or struggle. His foul breath, hoarse and panting, in her ear. His hands with their clawlike nails gripping her buttocks, blood from the wounds they left trickling down the backs of her thighs. The incredible unutterable coldness at the center of her, like being stabbed to death with an icicle. And -- but no. It was impossible. She couldn't possibly be --

La'avar felt it. 'Go on, admit it.' Laughing in her ear, he moved faster, battering into her, his body as cold as the wall. 'You're enjoying it.'

'No!' she shouted, denying it to him, to herself, to the world.

'Give up,' he whispered. Faster, faster. 'Give in.'

She screamed, then, her body on fire, every muscle flexing quivering singing, helpless to resist, better than it had ever been with Mason or any other man. He bit her neck, but she barely felt it. His cry was muffled against her skin.

For a moment neither moved. Then La'avar stepped away, leaving her to hang limply from the chains. 'You little slut,' he said reflectively. 'I never would have guessed.'

'Shut up,' she muttered.

'I bet Mason wouldn't have guessed, either.'

'Stop it...'

'What will he say, do you think?' He caressed her cheek lovingly. 'When he comes here and finds out the girl he loves is nothing but a cheap whore?'

'I am not a whore!' she shrieked at him. He slapped her across the face, so hard that her head struck the wall and rebounded.

'You shouldn't talk back to me, child.' Lifting her chin, he looked into her eyes. 'You have no idea what you're dealing with.' She tried to look away, but his eyes held her. 'Yet.'

'Fuck you,' she spat.

'No.' He turned and went to the door. 'You obviously enjoy that far too much.'

The door slammed. She was alone.

She remembered Hanako's face. Her trembling hands.

She began to scream.

A timid knock came at the door. 'Mr. Mason?'

'Sure,' he said indifferently. 'It's not locked.' The silver chain that linked his ankle to the bedpost, while thin, was sufficient to keep him weak and restrained.

The door swung open and Hanako looked in. 'It wasn't locked from the inside.'

'You.' He felt anger well up inside him and then ebb under the crush of his helplessness. 'What are you doing here?'

She edged into the room and he saw she was holding a tall glass filled with red liquid. 'I borrowed a Family member,' she said. 'Thought you might be hungry.'

'Not really.' He sighed. 'But I'll take it anyway. And thanks.'

The glass was warm, and he sipped from it while Hanako took a chair across from him and began to speak. 'I did nothing to her.' She regarded him with an odd mixture of sadness and disdain. 'I wouldn't wish L -- that thing's attentions on a friend.'

'What about an enemy?'

Her face went cold. Blank. Then suddenly she smiled, and it was like standing next to some long-dormant machine that had just powered on and now thrummed with electricity.

He looked down and saw that every hair on his arms was standing straight up.

'My enemies deserve what they get,' the girl replied. Her voice sounded deeper, older. 'If they're foolish enough to oppose me, they're too stupid to live.'

'Hanako --'

'Maigo, if you please. It's still not right -- such impertinence, calling me a child -- but it's closer.'

'Who --' He swallowed, feeling the fresh blood slosh uneasily in his stomach. 'Who are you, then?'

Contempt burned in her eyes. 'As if you didn't know me.'

'Hanako --'

'Help me,' she whispered. The electric quality that had suffused her disappeared. She had been something -- he groped for a word -- something more, but now she was just a young and frightened girl.

'What happened?' he asked stupidly.

'I feel like I'm going crazy,' she whispered. 'And it's all his fault.'

'Then help me.' Going as far toward her as his chain would allow, he was able to take her hand. 'Help me to save Lianna. To kill La'avar.'

'I can't. It's only an hour until daylight.'

'An hour? But when we found that note it wasn't even midnight? I've been out for six hours?'

'You don't understand.' Her eyes were miserable. 'They kept you fully chained, unconscious... since last night...'

'LAST NIGHT?' he roared. Hanako cringed, but his anger was not directed at her. 'She's been there since LAST NIGHT? And it's almost sunrise?'

'And La'avar doesn't sleep often.'

Mason threw his head back and screamed.

Lianna awoke in an unfamiliar bed, a tiny one with a metal frame and a hard mattress. Vertigo wrapped around her for a moment. She remembered falling asleep -- passing out, rather -- in a huge fortress of a bed, black-lacquered wood and blood-red curtains.

She flung the blankets toward the foot of the bed and looked at her body. Tiny red marks, like a heat-rash, covered her shoulders and arms; La'avar had the skill of a professional acupuncturist, each hair-thin needle creating pain rather than alleviating it. Her fingers and toes ached; he'd slipped the needles under her nails. The metal -- she assumed it was silver, as many of his instruments were, and he'd handled it with gloves -- was, unfortunately, highly conductive to heat as well.

But, even worse than the torture, there'd been the things she'd liked...

'Awake, I see.'

She hadn't even heard the door open. 'Yes...' Her voice was hoarse; her throat was raw and red from screaming.

He crossed the little room and tilted her chin up with his finger. 'Yes what?'

She winced and looked away. 'Yes, Master.'

'Much better.' His smile widened. 'Come, Saseko.' He pulled her to her feet and led her out of the room, down the hall. Still naked, she avoided the eyes of the servants and tried not to betray the pain between her legs that made it agony to walk. Even after so many hours of rest, her movement now reopened the wounds he had left there with his teeth, and blood flowed sluggishly down her thighs.

They went not to the bedroom, as she'd guiltily half-hoped -- at least his main focus there was not her pain but his pleasure -- but to the torture room. She made no protest as he chained her to the wall again.

'Saseko,' he whispered. 'Watashi no Saseko...'

He'd named her last night, but she'd so far escaped the branding -- the characters, he said, were too complex to reproduce on short notice. Besides, he had already branded her with the knowledge that she deserved the name, that she was what he called her.

Saseko meant whore.

'So,' he said brightly, clasping his hands before him. 'What shall we do today?'

'Let me go,' she said instantly. 'It'll be better for both of us.'

'You're not very smart, are you?' He smirked. 'Do you still think your beloved Mason will come to save you?' He held out his hands. 'Well? Where is he?'

'He'll come.'

'He forgot about you.' La'avar put on an expression of ersatz sorrow that set her teeth on edge. 'Poor little Saseko.'

'You'll get yours. Just wait.'

'Oh really.' He cocked his head to one side. 'Do tell.'

'Evil is transient.' She met his eyes willingly for the first time, unable to feel fear anymore, wanting to wound him. 'Already your time is running out.'

He grimaced. 'Nonsense.'

'The servants whisper about you. They say you've lost it.' The words poured out, each one a burning brand. 'An old man, gone mad -- no sense -- obsessed, wasting your time with insignificant pleasures while your empire crumbles around you --'

'SHUT UP!' he roared. His hand struck her face, hard, but she whipped her head back and glared at him defiantly.

'You wouldn't say that if you weren't afraid! Afraid that I'm telling the truth!'

His fingernails punched into the skin of her throat as he grabbed her neck. His eyes, fire and ice, assaulted hers. She saw black at the edges of her vision but held his gaze in triumph. If she couldn't escape on her own, if Mason wouldn't save her, she'd make La'avar set her free.

Suddenly he laughed, releasing her. 'No, no,' he scolded lightly. 'A good effort, but you won't get out that easily.'

'Damn,' she panted. 'Rather... you... just killed me.'

'You don't deserve death,' he hissed. 'Not until I have you broken -- and -- screaming.'

'Never.'

'So you say.' He strolled over to a low table and picked up a long narrow rod with a rubber grip, something like the canes used by the blind, only black instead of white. As he examined it she watched quizzically, almost disappointed: was he going to beat her with it? Had he really run out of ideas?

Then the tip of it touched her and her world exploded.

Her throat seized up -- it seemed a tennis ball was lodged just below her palate, swelling. Pain like the red-hot silver needles, multiplied a thousandfold, seared every muscle and she spasmed against the wall.

When her eyes cleared, he was smiling at her.

'Cattle-prod,' he explained. 'Normally I'd start with a lower-voltage tool, but...' He bit her lower lip hard, blood squirting into her mouth, and kissed her roughly, then flicked his tongue around the rim of her ear. 'Broken -- and -- screaming.'

The cattle-prod struck her in the breastbone and she did scream then, so hard that her injured throat began to ooze blood from its swollen walls.

He pulled it away after only a few seconds, much sooner than she'd expected. Her relief was only temporary -- what, she wondered, was he going to do instead?

For a moment he only looked at her, his face expressionless, unreadable, seeming uglier than ever in the harsh shadows of the torchlight.

Then he knelt, pushing her legs apart, and rammed the end of the cattle-prod into her.

Her vision left her; her voice left her; her hearing left her. She felt a warm spray as her bladder let go. There was only pain left, her only consciousness that of the tearing convulsions and the hard blunt rod that pressed further, further into her, and then a monstrous wrenching agony as something within her gave way irrevocably. Blackness came, and she went with it gratefully.

Her eyes opened only a few minutes later to a blur of red on gray. Straining to focus, she first realized that she was looking at the floor; her head was hanging down. The stones were gray, and the red was... was blood... was blood coming from her, too much blood.

She looked up and saw La'avar leaning against the electric chair a few feet away, smiling. 'Okay,' she gasped. 'You killed me. Happy? You killed me. I'm bleeding to death. I'm dying. Happy?'

He raised an eyebrow and came forward. She flinched back, but he only knelt at her feet and examined the red puddle there, poking at it with a finger.

'No,' he said at last. 'You're not dying.' His teeth shone in a grin. 'But someone else just did.'

Blood... from her body.

Her queasy stomach, especially in the mornings.

Her period, which was only a week late, but still...

Mason. Mason.

Something within her mind snapped cleanly, like a small stick.

'Yes, my Master,' she said softly.

Saint listened silently as Hanako explained, haltingly, the problem: the blank spots in her memory, the strange and terrifying impulses, the voice that commanded, demanded in her mind.

'Have you ever seen The Exorcist?' she finished. 'I feel like that little girl.'

Saint smiled a little. 'Until you start vomiting pea soup, we'll save the diagnosis of possession for later.'

'Then what's wrong with me?' She looked at Mason, who sat next to her. 'What's happening to me?'

Saint stood, his hands going to the back of his neck and unfastening the clasp of his crucifix necklace. 'I think we can find out.'

She went into trance with surprising ease, watching the tiny gold cross glimmer and sway before her. Her body relaxed fully for the first time since Mason had known her.

'Hanako.'

'Yes?' Her voice was disconnected, floating.

'This is Saint.'

'Yes.'

'Mason is here too. You're safe. We're your friends.'

'Safe,' she repeated, like an obedient toddler. 'Friends.'

'That's right.' Saint shifted and leaned toward her. 'Is there anyone else with you?'

A shadow crossed her face. 'Yes.'

'Can I talk to her?'

'No,' she whispered fearfully.

'Why not?'

'She'll hurt you.'

'She's hypnotized. Just like you.'

'I don't want to let her out.' Her voice sank to a mere breath of air. 'She's strong. I might not... she might stay.'

'I won't let her do that.' Saint shot a look of worry at Mason. 'I promise.'

'The promise of a papist idiot,' Hanako snapped. Both men jumped. 'To think that I would believe any oath from such a man of lies and incompetence.'

'I apologize,' Saint said calmly, though his eyes were disturbed. 'Obviously you're far too smart to fall for anything I could come up with.'

'Of course,' she said, a bit mollified. 'But I forget -- you've been dealing with the child. I'm sure she'd believe anything.'

'The child? Do you mean Hanako?'

'Who else?'

'Then I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced.' Saint licked his lips nervously. 'I am Saint, Prince of the Patriarchs. And you are --'

'I am Miyu.' The voice gained power and resonance, though the volume remained normal. 'Princess of the High Vampires. Ruler of the darkness, terror of mortal man, and rightful Queen of all our kind!'

Saint swallowed. 'Your -- your Highness,' he began.

'Princess will do for now,' she said loftily. 'Until I make myself known as the Queen.'

'As you say, Princess.' He ran his fingers through his hair. 'Could I speak to Hanako again?'

He woke her, and she looked at them as if they were demons. 'What did I do?'

'Nothing bad,' Mason reassured her. 'Everything's okay.'

She pointed at Saint, who sat clutching his crucifix tightly in one hand, stunned. 'Then why is he -- what did -- oh God, what am I?'

'Well.' Mason cleared his throat. 'See -- it's like this...'

It was four-thirty by the time the explanations were finished, and Mason returned to his rooms to prepare for the night. Nearly forty-eight hours had passed since Lianna had disappeared, and he knew that she might very well be dead. If that was the case, he would save a stake for himself.

Miyu slept fitfully in the cradle of the other's self, fully conscious but held down by the other's will -- the child was weak, but Miyu was weaker. Her anger at being forced to submit was tempered by patience; day by day, she felt her old strength returning.

She remembered death, the stake that had in one stroke eliminated her power and set her loose from her body to roam, formless, a kami on the winds. The darkness of air suited her, though she found that she had lost the limitations of her vampire body, and she saw her first sunrise in centuries. Had she had eyes, she would have wept.

Her appreciation for this state of grace did not prevent frustration; she traversed the world, moving faster than thought if she willed it, but she wanted to walk upon its face again. She wanted death, and blood, and pain. She wanted her power back.

One night, as she drifted with the clouds, she fell -- but as she plummeted to earth it felt as if a chain had looped around her and was pulling her downward. Two women stood in the door of a tiny apartment, one merely a girl, the other ageless, and as the girl died in the other's arms Miyu slipped into the void within her.

The void was not complete, she sensed at once; it was merely a hollow in the being who owned the body, one that quickly closed over her. Only occasionally scould she come out, to experience but not to control. It was just as well; the girl had no concept of what her mother had made her, and her struggles with digestion and fatigue were of little interest.

When one night she emerged to observe, she saw a face she had known for centuries, twisted and hideous but welcome all the same. La'avar. Miyu had felt something very much like love. And gratitude. For now Hanako had been fundamentally changed, weakened, by La'avar's torture, and Miyu felt deliciously alive. Soon she would take the body and go, to take the kingdom that was hers.

She couldn't wait.

'Hanako?' Saint stopped her at the door. 'Where are you going?'

'Tell --' What was that man's name again? The one who'd showed up to try to kill her -- 'Tell Mason that I'll meet him at the Citadel. I've a score to settle with La'avar myself.'

He looked at her with concern. 'Are you sure you'll be okay?'

She manufactured a tired little smile. 'I'm fine.'

'Okay.' He touched her shoulder. 'Be careful.'

Your clan will be the first to fall, she promised silently. 'Thanks -- I will.'

Miyu slipped out the door into the new night.

Mason stopped at the door. 'Hanako!' he muttered, striking his forehead with the heel of his hand.

'She left without you,' Saint said behind him.

'She what?' Mason rounded on the other man. 'you let her go alone?'

'Hanako can take care of herself --'

'Are you sure she was Hanako?'

'Of course she was!' Saint bristled. 'Don't you think I'd know if she wasn't?'

'You're a priest.' Mason hauled open the heavy doors. 'What's the Bible say about the devil putting on a pleasing countenance?'

He was gone, running down the empty street. Saint slumped against the wall, shaking.

Lianna knelt beside the throne, chained to its base by a heavy cuff on one ankle, eyes dazed and miserable. La'avar recognized the look: she'd given up hope. She was not catatonic, as Maigo had been, but she was broken all the same. He would let her rest for a while before beginning the process of remaking her as he saw fit; even he had tired of the torture. It had been a long, long session.

Idly he dropped his hand down over the arm of his throne and caressed her hair, as though she were a pet. She flinched at the caress, and he smiled at her fondly.

'Lovely girl,' a voice remarked acidly. 'But mortal? Your taste surprises me, old man.'

His head snapped up, and his mouth fell open in shock. Standing in the doorway, hands on hips, eyes gleaming, was --

'Maigo,' he said hoarsely. 'You've come back to me.'

'Of course, old friend.' She strolled forward with sensual grace. 'I doubt you could survive much longer without me.'

He left his throne and grabbed her upper arm roughly. 'If I were not so pleased to see you, I would hurt you severely for that, child.'

'Take your hands off me, Larva,' she snapped, her voice like a lash. His hand flew open and he stumbled back a step, shocked. No one called him that. No one knew that name, except...

'It's not possible,' he gasped. 'Princess --'

'All is possible.' She smiled darkly, victorious. 'I am Miyu.'

He fell on his knees before her. 'Princess,' he whispered. 'Forgive me -- I didn't know --' The thought of the torture he'd put her through flashed before his eyes, and he moaned. 'My life is yours --'

'Yes,' she agreed, smiling.

'-- but I didn't mean -- not you -- if only I'd known --'

She laid her hand lightly on his bowed head. 'Rise, faithful one,' she said gently. 'You are forgiven.'

He stood, still shaking. His hand reached out to touch her face. 'Princess --'

'I hate to interrupt this reunion,' Mason remarked from the doorway, 'But I've come for one of my own.'

'You!' La'avar and Miyu shouted at the same instant. Pushing his Princess back protectively, La'avar started forward. Mason raised a stake and grinned, beckoning. La'avar leaped --

-- and crashed full-length to the stone floor as Lianna leaped to the end of her chain and caught his ankle with both hands. 'Kill him!' she shouted, her voice cracking. Mason would have done so, and gladly, but Miyu tackled him from behind and ripped at his throat with her teeth. Luckily, though Miyu was an experienced fighter, the body she inhabited did not possess the skill to match, and Mason hurled her over his head to land on hands and knees beyond La'avar, who was already back up.

The two of them could have taken Mason easily, then and there, but as their eys met they knew that neither wanted such a painless ending. Miyu grabbed a long silver-bladed knife from a nearby table and moved toward him -- he hesitated one moment too long, remembering Hanako, and she put it to his throat. 'Slow,' she mocked. 'La'avar!'

'Yes, Mistress.' He grabbed the back of Lianna's shirt and pulled her off the floor, into his arms.

'Mason!' she screamed. He tried to go to her, but an edge of silver burned his throat and he froze, helpless. 'Help me!'

La'avar laughed. 'He's dead, child -- and you're mine.' With a snarl of pure triumph he sank his teeth into her throat.

'No!' Mason shouted.

'Yes.' La'avar looked up, his mouth red with Lianna's blood. 'I win.'

'NO!' Hanako screamed suddenly from behind Mason. From behind and above him. Mason barely had time to blink before Hanako, shrieking in fury, flew across the room like a bullet and knocked La'avar to the floor.

'Get her out of here!' she shouted. 'Save her!'

'But --' he protested, his mind whirling.

Hanako swiped her fingernails across La'avar's face, leaving four deep gashes. 'Go!'

Mason swept Lianna into his arms, breaking the chain that held her, and ran.

He lay her on the grass outside the Patriarchs' Citadel and knelt by her side, panting a little -- he'd run all the way, carrying her. 'Are you -- all right?'

'No.' Her eyes were haunted. 'But I'm alive.'

'Thank God,' he said softly. 'I couldn't stand to lose you.'

'You won't.' She bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. 'But why didn't you save me before?'

'They were keeping me -- so I didn't run off after you --'

Her lips felt numb. 'I was pregnant,' she whispered. 'He -- I lost the baby.'

'Pregnant?' he repeated, as though he'd never heard the word before.

'Only a month -- six weeks at the most -- but it was yours, and he --' Barely restraining sobs, she described the torture, starting with the rape and ending with the miscarriage, leaving out nothing -- not even the fact that she'd enjoyed some of what La'avar had done to her. Unable to hide, unable to cry in front of him, she told him everything.

When she had finished, he stood.

'Where are you going?'

'I'll kill him,' he said flatly. 'I'll fucking rip him to shreds. That bastard.'

'No.' She took his hand in hers and kissed the palm. 'I just got you back. I'm not about to let him have you.'

'But he --'

'You can't stand to lose me, right? It goes both ways. If I lose you now...'

Mason nodded, the fire going out of his eyes. 'I can't promise that I won't go after him --'

'I don't ask that.'

'-- but I'll postpone it.' He touched her hair lightly. 'I'd rather just be with you.'

'Even if...' She nearly choked. 'If I... I...'

'Liked it?" Mason shook his head. 'I thought you knew. Hanako had the same problem, remember?'

'Yes, but... that doesn't excuse me from it.'

'Yes it does.' He looked into her eyes and she turned away automatically. He smiled. 'Now why did you do that?'

"Because of that eye-thing that you do --' She blinked. 'Are you trying to hint at something?'

'La'avar is old, Lianna. Very old.'

'Old enough to have...'

'The Powers.' He nodded. 'It's not as if he's such a bloody wonderful lover, or anything. But one look was enough to convince you that he was -- and then he could make you ashamed for it.'

She smiled tremulously. 'Really? You mean I'm not a... a whore?'

'If you are, you're my whore.' He smiled at her and she had to laugh.

The door to the Citadel burst open behind them. 'Thank god you're back,' Celeste panted. 'Sakura's disappeared.'

Sakura clutched the piece of paper in her hand, tightly enough that the pencil marks were starting to smudge and fade. She had memorized the message, though. It was short enough, and vivid in its promise:

The taxi-driver let her off at the apartment building, which had received a new coat of the same white paint since she'd seen it last, or else been washed -- it was slightly less dingy. As the taxi drove away, a slim figure dressed in white emerged from the shadowed entryway, and Sakura's breathing stopped. It looked like a ghost -- not that she believed in such things, but this night, this place was a breeding-ground for them.

Then the figure broke into a run, and Sakura chided herself -- how could it be anything, anyone but her daughter? She held out her arms and Hanako ran into them, her beautiful face lit with a smile. 'Mama!'

'My daughter," Sakura nearly wept. "My sweet, sweet little girl.'

'I'm so sorry, Mama, so sorry...' Hanako clung to her tightly. 'I love you, Mama.'

'I love you too. Oh, Hana-chan...' Sakura pulled back finally and looked at her child. 'I've missed you so.'

'I've missed you too, Mama.' Hanako smiled. 'Shall we go find something to eat? I'm starving.'

'Of course,' Sakura said, rejoicing inwardly. Her child had accepted what she was, had accepted what her mother had had to do. Her heart swelled and she thought: could anything be better than this?

As Sakura took her hand and led her away from the apartment building, Miyu smiled to herself.