CHAPTER 53


THERE'S NO HEADING TO THE CHAPTER, NO HINT of what it contains. Once my brain has adjusted yet again to the difficulty that comes from deciphering calligraphy, I'm plunged into a history of demons in the world.

In the beginning (according to this text) was not the word. In the beginning were the demons, the first species in human form to populate the earth. They were the spawn of the fallen angels sent to a harsh and unforgiving new world to survive or perish on their own. Among the first demons were the vampires. They were the strongest and most vicious of the predators and soon held dominion over all the beasts. Their reign lasted for a thousand years.

Then the gods (and it's plural) decided the now warm and abundant earth had become a paradise, too good for the demons. They sent man, possessed him of brain and brawn, allowed him to multiply. They set him against the demons. Man triumphed. The demons were banished underground, to the realm of darkness. Here the vampire stayed, coming forth only to hunt and feed, for a millennium.

The great flood came. Vampires survived in greater number than humans and once more, they walked in daylight. But humans were scarce, the vampire needed beasts to hunt. The werewolf was fashioned from man by the vampire with the help of powerful black magic. The half man, half beast was made to be the servant of the vampire. In human form, he could integrate into man's society. In wolf form, he could hunt and capture prey for the vampire master.

The vampire's curse is that he cannot propagate save through the transference of blood. The werewolf, created by a spell, could only exist at the will of the vampire.

Until the time of the change.

The gods were angry that the vampires once more held dominion over their earth. They saw the balance changing and knew the humans were soon to become fodder for a stronger demon race. They knew the balance could only be restored by introducing an enemy, one capable of defeating the vampire, one who did not live off the blood of their beloved humans.

They allowed the werewolf to evolve into a creature that could "reproduce" on its own, through its bite with the power of a talisman. Soon, the werewolf numbers increased until they were no longer a slave to the vampire but a formidable enemy. When the battle came, the werewolves proved too strong and their superior numbers drove the vampire underground once more.

A were's strength is in his animal form. It is also his vulnerability. Man soon learned to hunt the beast and the weres numbers were decimated. Because the vampire exists in human form, he could walk among man unnoticed. If he was careful and cunning, his identity as a demon would not be revealed. The vampire flourished, learning to live among his human hosts, learning to assimilate into man's culture, sacrificing the were to his adopted human family.

From that time forward, there existed a mutual enmity between vampire and werewolf. But there is also a psychic connection. A powerful vampire can control a were, take over its will. Make it do its bidding. It need only possess the were's talisman. Without the talisman, the were cannot make the change, giving the vampire the absolute power of life and death over it. The power transcends time and space, it is all encompassing and cannot be broken until the vampire is killed or until the were regains possession of the talisman. In either case, once the werewolf regains control, it is the vampire that perishes.

The chapter ends there. I close the book and let it rest on my lap. Is it possible? Could Avery have somehow transported his spirit or soul at the moment of his second death to Sandra? Is that what Tamara meant when she said it was Avery, not Sandra, speaking to me last night?

Why be so damned cryptic? Why not come out and say it? If it's true, when and how would Avery have taken possession of Sandra's talisman? She wasn't here when I was with him.

Was she? Was what I said to Tamara on the ride to David's cabin true? Was Sandra watching us the whole time I was with Avery? It makes my affair with him even creepier.

I need to talk to Tamara.

David's phone. I fling back the covers and run downstairs. I erased the message but he must have her number stored since he called her this evening. Sure enough, it's there. I memorize it to punch into my own phone when I return upstairs.

The phone rings five times before voice messaging picks up.

"Hi there. You've reached Tamara. If I don't answer, I may be out baying at the moon. Leave me a message after the beep and I'll get back to you."

"Baying at the moon? Cute, Tamara. It's Anna. Call me."

I ring off and try to settle down to sleep. My mind, however, refuses to settle down. The idea that Avery could be alive in Sandra, able to control my emotions and project such fear, leaves me sick with dread.

IT'S A LONG NIGHT. WHEN I FINALLY NOD OFF, I'M awakened with a start by a sound from downstairs. It takes me a minute to realize it's not Avery come to get me, but the sound of running water. I glance at the clock. 7:00 a.m. David must have awakened, moved from the living room to the kitchen, and is making coffee.

Shit. I throw off the covers and jump out of bed. If he's going through cupboards or the refrigerator, he's going to notice I have no food. None. I know I should keep something around for this sort of human/vampire contact, but I never think of it. The only place I shop now is Starbucks.

When I appear beside him in the kitchen, the question is stamped all over his face.

"No wonder you're so skinny," he says, standing before the open refrigerator with the bag of coffee in his hand. "You have no food. Jesus, Anna, how can anyone have no food?"

I snatch the bag from his hand and take it over to the coffeemaker. "I've never liked to cook, you know that. I eat out. So what? I didn't expect to have a houseguest this morning. You should be thanking me for taking care of your drunken ass last night instead of criticizing me."

A flush like a shadow creeps over his cheeks. "I don't know what happened. I couldn't have had that much to drink."

"Try three bottles of Chianti. Ted's treat."

"Three? Bottles? By myself? Weren't you drinking?"

Should I tell him the truth? That I only had one glass from each bottle? Make me look like a wuss? Nah. "I had my share."

He rubs a hand over his forehead. "We split three bottles? How come my head feels like this and yours doesn't?"

"Isn't it obvious? I hold my liquor better than you."

He grunts and takes a seat at the table. While the coffee perks, I get two mugs down from a nearly empty cupboard. It's a good thing I caught him before he started going through the cupboards. Otherwise, he'd be making some comment about the lack of dishes right along with the lack of food. Everything I'd had was destroyed in the fire. I never got around to replacing them. I will now. I'll buy some dishes and a few canned goods.

Soon.

Today I have to track down Tamara. Kick her ass for what was done to my car. I should see Jason again, too, and call my dad about O'Sullivan and the "stolen" formula.

It's going to be a long day.