"What the hell—?" Lacey said.
Joe looked down. The guard at Lacey's feet was writhing on the floor. The other five were doing the same. This lasted maybe ten seconds, and then they lay as still as their mistress.
Lacey nudged one with the toe of her shoe. "Dead. They're all__"
She looked up at Joe, her eyes wide. "Unk! This is what happened the other night, right upstairs. A bunch of undead guards—supposedly they belonged to someone named Gregor—they suddenly dropped dead, just like these guys.
It was right after we heard a boom and ..." She turned to Carole. "You told us you killed a vampire that night. Blew him to bits, right?"
"Right. But I never knew his name."
Lacey nodded. "I'll bet it was Gregor. You killed him across town, and his guards died upstairs in the Post Office. We killed this one, and her guards die a few seconds later. What's the connection? Is there some sort of spell that binds the guards to their masters? A life-and-death bond that connects them? Is that why they're so loyal?"
Memories of the Empire State Building flashed through Joe's head.
"When I mentioned to Franco how loyal his guards seemed, he told me it wasn't out of selflessness or personal regard for him—it was self-preservation."
"That was his word?" Lacey said. "Self-preservation? Well then that's it. That's how they bind their guards to them: if their master dies, they die."
Joe shook his head. "I've got a feeling it's something more than that. Franco mentioned a secret. 'A momentous secret we keep only to ourselves,' he said. If only—"
Artemis! Joe whirled and looked at the cot in the corner where he'd left the vampire. Had he died too? But his bed was empty. Where—?
"Look!" Carole said, pointing her flashlight beam at a doorway where a pair of legs were crawling through. "Someone's there!"
Joe hurried over, grabbed both ankles, and hauled Artemis back into the dormitory. He flipped him onto his back and stood over him.
"Not so fast, Artemis. We have some questions."
"Fuck you!" His voice was barely audible.
"Why did the guards die when we killed the woman?"
The vampire sneered up at him and said nothing.
Joe realized he had nothing to bargain with. Artemis knew he wasn't going to walk away from this, so he had no reason to tell them anything.
Lacey came up beside Joe and played her light over Artemis. "Can we bring him upstairs?"
"I suppose so," Joe said. "But why?"
She looked at him. "Sunlight."
Joe glanced from her to Artemis and saw the fear in his single eye. Joe grabbed his feet again and dragged him toward the stairs.
"Good idea!"
"No!"
Joe didn't have time for threats or deals. He hauled Artemis up feet first to the main floor. The vampire twisted away from the light and flung his arms over his eyes. Joe found the brightness uncomfortable but it hadn't reached the intolerable point yet. Pulling Artemis upright, he grabbed him by the collar and belt and walked him toward the front doors. The sunlight blazed through the glass like burning phosphorous.
"Now's your chance, pal. Speak or burn. What's the big secret?"
"Fuck you! I'll be just as dead either way!"
Damn him, he was right. And a dead vampire told no tales. He spun Artemis and shoved him into a shadowed corner where he curled into a whimpering ball.
Carole and Lacey stood in the cellar doorway staring at Joe.
"Any ideas, or do we just finish him and get out of here?" he said.
Lacey stepped closer to Artemis. She spoke slowly, softly. "Tossing him out in the sun will kill him. But what if just a part of him gets in the sunlight? What will that do?"
"Yes!" Joe said. Finally—leverage. "Anyone have a knife?"
Lacey whipped out a stainless steel pocketknife. "My butterfly's gone, but this should do. Someone tried to kill me with it."
Joe unfolded the blade and began slicing at the legs of the vampire's pants below the knees. He remembered how this creature had ripped the clothes from him a few long nights ago.
"What goes around, comes around, right, Artemis?" he said through his teeth.
He pulled off Artemis's shoes, then moved around by his shoulders.
"All right, ladies. Grab his feet and we'll move his legs into that patch of sunlight over there."
"No!" Artemis wailed.
"Joseph," Carole said, giving him an unsettled look. "Do we really—?"
"Please, Carole. Time's a-wasting, and this is one of the undead who manhandled me in New York."
Artemis directed his one fear-filled eye at Joe. "New York? Who—?"
"What? You don't recognize me? I'm the priest Franco tried to turn the other night. Only he failed."
"But that's—that's impossible!"
Carole still hadn't moved. Lacey stepped in front of her. "Let's go. I'll handle it."
She grabbed Artemis by both ankles. His feeble kicks lacked the power to free him. Together she and Joe dragged the lower half of his body into the light.
Immediately his flesh started to smoke and blister. Lacey made a disgusted noise and released his ankles. His screams echoed through the building.
"Okay! Yes! Please! I'll tell! Anything you want! I'll tell! Please!"
Joe pulled him back into the shadows. Artemis lay in a heap, writhing, panting, and sobbing, his hands hovering over but never touching the blackened, still-smoking flesh of his lower legs. Sickened by the sight, Joe turned away for a moment. He sensed Carole watching him but could not meet her eyes.
Finally he turned back and forced himself to kneel beside the vampire. He poked him roughly on the shoulder.
"What's the secret, Artemis? Why did those guards die when we staked the woman?"
"They were her get," he gasped. "When she died, all her get died, not just her guards."
"What's 'get'?" Lacey said.
Artemis sneered. "People she turned. When Olivia died, all of her get, no matter where they were in the world, died with her."
Joe knelt there, stunned. "I don't believe you."
"Believe it, priest. It's the one thing we don't want the living to know about us."
"But you're telling me."
His smile was sickly. "What do I care? It won't matter to me, will it."
"You're telling me that anyone, anywhere, that she turned at anytime since she became undead, is now dead?"
"Yes. That's the big secret. That's why Olivia's guards did everything to protect their get-mother. Not for her sake. For their own."
Lacey squatted on the opposite side. "But that means that somewhere there's a vampire who's the ultimate source of this whole undead plague. If someone could get to him—"
Artemis was shaking his head. "No, cow. There may have been a single Prime millennia ago, but now there are many. We undead aren't immortal; it only seems that way. We age and die, but we last many centuries. Eventually rot catches up to everything, including us. It hits suddenly and over the course of a week or so we crumble to dust. But this kind of true death does not affect the get. In fact it enhances them. Only premature death kills one's get. Because we lived solitary existences for so long, we never knew about get-death. But when an ancient Prime figured it out, and started the practice of protecting getfathers, our numbers began to grow."
"Is Franco a Prime?" Joe asked.
Artemis nodded. "And my get-father." His eye narrowed. "You want him, don't you."
"Oh, yeah. If he goes, how many go with him?"
"Many. I can't give you a definite number, but every Nosferatu in the Empire State Building is his get. Not in the city, however. We've learned to mix gets within a region to avoid catastrophe. I hope you get him."