A  Fatal Case
Chapter V
By Irena Dawidson
For Warnings see Chapter One

He thought of the first time it had happened.
    Evelyn, in the last stages of her pregnancy, had been unwell, they
hadn’t been able to make love for almost three months. Her younger
sister, Eve, was there to help her. From his vantage of twenty-six he
had regarded the sixteen-year-old as a child. Had he been older, he
might have known better. She had followed him like a puppy, reminding
him of his younger brother who had trailed him everywhere when they were
children. Evelyn’s baby was due in a couple of weeks. He had returned
home late from some errand that he no longer remembered. The horse was
lame and he stayed in the stables, trying to find out what was wrong
with it. He found a stone that had stuck in the hoof and was trying to
remove it when there was a sudden breeze that made the oil lamp flicker.
Somebody had come in.
    Eve was standing just a few feet away from him, in a dressing gown.
   “Eve, what’s wrong? What are you doing up in the middle of the
night?” A sudden fear gripped him. “Is Evelyn all right?”
    But she shook her head and took off her dressing gown without
uttering a word. He looked at her uncomprehendingly, and her nightgown
came off in the next instant. He couldn’t help but stare.
    The sixteen-year-old child had the body of an adult goddess. His
starved body screamed in desire, the reaction so powerful that it was
painful. He rose slowly and she moved towards him. The smell of horses
and fresh hay would forever be connected in his mind with that night of
lust and betrayal. He could still make himself sick by thinking about
it, although more than a hundred and forty years had since passed.
    But Eve had lost more than her virginity that night. As their bodies
rolled in the hay, the feeling of impending doom was mingled with the
pleasures of the flesh. No matter how hard he tried to keep away from
her, his body would betray him every night, and he would seek her out
and make love to her until dawn. They would come together in violent
clashes, quite oblivious of the world around them. He saw that something
was terribly wrong with her, but his desire-ridden mind refused to
acknowledge that.
    Ten days later Evelyn died in childbirth, and by then it was quite
obvious that Eve was insane. Julian and Eve had sneaked away to the
stables again that night. They could feel safe there, nobody would hear
them. She had opened her thighs for him in joyous abandon, urging him to
come to her. The primitive lust had taken over and there was no
hesitation in either of them. They had heaved and screamed until they
were both totally exhausted.
    When Julian returned to the house, he found Evelyn barely conscious,
in a grisly heap on the floor by her bed, bathed in her own blood.
Apparently, she had got up trying to find help, but hadn’t gotten far. A
healthy baby boy was born two hours later, but Evelyn didn’t recover
from the loss of blood and died just half an hour later.
    In his despair Julian refused to see anybody, his brother’s family
took care of the baby. Julian was close to losing his mind. He regarded
Evelyn’s death as a punishment.  He had turned Eve away, telling her
that he didn’t want to see her again. He was quite sure that he would
never touch another woman again: he never did - as a mortal.
    Some weeks later, when Julian was on the verge of committing
suicide, Archon came to his house. Archon was well known. He was a
wealthy landowner, always on the lookout for able men who could work for
him. He had heard about the tragedy that had befallen the young family.
He had taken care of Eve and placed her in the asylum for the insane
when she became violent and unmanageable. But before that, he found out
from her what had really transpired; things that others only whispered
about.
    Archon offered to take Julian in and he accepted. He had no will of
his own left. The rumor had it that he had killed his pregnant wife in
order to be with his sister in law. As far as Julian was concerned, the
rumor was true. Only he had never wanted to harm his wife in any way. He
had loved her very much, her death was his castigation.
    Julian Luna became Archon’s most appreciated enforcer. He was savage
and fearless, but seemed to harbor a death wish that appalled Archon.
Eventually, Archon understood that he would lose Julian in a shoot-out
or a fight; his wish to die was too apparent.
    It would be such a waste, Archon thought, and decided to do
something about it.
   One night, when Julian had been more morose than usual, Archon told
him about the Masquerade and offered to Embrace him. Julian had been
horrified at first, but became fascinated when Archon explained what it
meant to be a Kindred.
    “Why do you want to do it?” Julian had asked Archon at last.
    “You’re trying to get yourself killed anyway,” Archon had responded.
“If you refuse, I’ll kill you right now and you won’t have to suffer
anymore. But if you accept, your life expectancy would increase
somewhat,” Archon had laughed. “I have need of you.”
    For all his unhappiness and despair, Julian didn’t want to die.
    He was Embraced by Archon before the morning came.
    It took some time however, before he came to terms with his new
condition. But Archon was a good teacher and a formidable leader.
Slowly, Julian’s grief started to subside and he became more and more
involved in Kindred affairs. Archon was pleased. A couple of years
passed and Julian met a woman. She was a rare mixture, half Chinese,
half Native American. Her beauty was exceeded only by her temperament.
In her arms, Julian rediscovered his need for the intimacy of sex and
learned about his capacity for giving and receiving pleasure. The
liaison lasted only a few months, but the fire had been kindled, and to
Archon’s dismay, Julian began to make quite an impact among the female
population, human and Kindred alike. But he seldom built genuine bonds
with the women he bedded and some of the ladies took umbrage. There were
scandals, threats of retribution, a suicide, and quite a few cases of
unbalanced reactions.
    Years later, Julian posed himself the question: Was he drawn to the
women who had a streak of madness in them, or was he the cause of it? He
didn’t find an answer. The disagreeable intermezzos recurred with
unpleasant regularity, making him vow each time that he would stay away
from women. However, his own sensuality, as well as the ladies’
interest, made him break his vows with equal regularity. But this was
the first time he had killed one of these high-strung women with his own
hands. No matter how hard he tried to push it away, the question
returned with even greater urgency:
    Am I driving Caitlin mad?
 

    Julian stayed away from Caitlin for a couple of days, but when he
came to her, he found her bedroom door locked. Being a Ventrue, he
didn’t own the Nosferatu ability to pass through locked doors. Of
course, he was quite capable of breaking down that door. To turn it into
a pile of timber would have given him satisfaction, but his injured
pride made him turn away. He intercepted Caitlin on her way out the next
morning. There were servants in the hallway and Arthur was waiting for
her by the entrance when Julian stopped her by calling her name. She
became quite still, but didn’t turn to face him. She flinched when
Julian’s hands touched her shoulders.
    “You didn’t have to lock your door,” he was whispering in her ear,
not wanting the others to hear. “A simple no would have sufficed.”
    He tried to turn her around but she resisted. He let go and walked
around her instead. Her face was pale and puffy. Apparently, she had
been crying and hadn’t got much sleep. It hurt to see her like that.
    “Caitlin, we have to talk,” he said imploringly.
    “I’m late for work,” she answered without looking up, and moved past
him.
    Julian’s eyes met Arthur’s and they nodded to each other. Arthur
opened the door for Caitlin and they went out. She didn’t come back that
evening. Julian called her at the office, but was told that she had left
early. He tried to contact Arthur, but an operator’s impersonal voice
said that the number was out of range. By the morning Julian concluded
that Caitlin, Arthur and the car had vanished from the face of the
Earth.
    Well, they have vanished from San Francisco, Julian corrected
himself. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought that they’ve eloped.
He was quite sure that Caitlin had disappeared by her own volition, and
that Arthur was with her was reassuring. Nevertheless, Julian made
himself sick with worry, refusing to feed for several days.
    Arthur came back by the end of the week, bringing a letter from
Caitlin. She was at her parents’ house, outside Seattle. Arthur had
driven her there! Julian started by almost biting Arthur’s head off for
not contacting him, but the young Ventrue stood his ground.
    “Caitlin specifically asked me to deliver the letter, and not
contact you and tell you where she was before I did that,” Arthur
defended himself.
    Julian took the letter and locked himself in the library with it.
    Julian, my love, it started.
    At least it doesn’t start with ”Dear John”, he thought wryly.
    My mother is worse, it continued, and I decided to come here and
spend some time with her. Please, don’t be angry with me for not telling
you, but I don’t want you to come here after me, and don’t be angry with
Arthur. He did all he could to talk me out of it, but accepted my
decision at last when I told him that he would have a letter for you on
his return. Please, don’t try to contact me. I’ll not disappear from
your life without having talked to you, but I want you to respect my
need for privacy now.
    Julian sat for another night thinking about what he should do.
Without having reached any decision, he dialed the Seattle number. Old
Byrne answered. As soon as Julian said his name, Caitlin’s father cut
him off.
    “She doesn’t want to talk to you,” he said angrily.
    “I know,” Julian answered, “but she wrote that Mrs. Byrne is worse
and I’d like to inquire about her. Also, I would like you to tell me if
Caitlin is all right.”
    The old man was mollified by the sadness in Julian’s voice.
    “My wife is... dying. It’s a matter of days.” The anger was gone
from his voice. “As for Caitlin, she seems upset. Probably, you know
better than I do why!”
    “I do,” Julian sighed, but didn’t explain. “May I call you again?”
he added.  There was a short silence.
    “Yes, sure,” Mr. Byrne said at last.
    The next day Julian realized that he had gone too far. He could no
longer stay outdoors during the daytime, the sun had become a definite
threat. He allowed Daedalus to chase him out in the evening and spent
the whole night hunting for prey. The blood restored his strength, but
he still looked like a victim of a concentration camp.
    Caitlin called two days later. She told him, between tears, that her
mother had died during the night. Julian had all the right words
prepared. But he didn’t dare to inquire when she would return. In the
end he asked her to let him speak with her father. Even here, the proper
phrases, offering consolation and sympathy, were easy to find. He asked
about the funeral arrangements and was told that Mrs. Byrne would be
buried next week.
 

    The funeral was attended by more than a hundred people. The heavy
rain had turned into intermittent dripping.
   “Earth to earth...” the priest was saying as Caitlin looked up and
saw Julian. He stood beyond the whole congregation, almost hidden under
a tree, looking directly at her. He nodded and lowered his head when he
saw that she had discovered him.
    There was some shuffling and the mass of mourners started to
disperse. Many approached Caitlin and her father and offered their
condolences. The rain stopped altogether and the sun came out. When
Caitlin looked again, Julian was gone. She looked at the row of cars
parked outside the cemetery. The one her eyes were searching for was the
last in the line.
    “Father, will you excuse me for a moment,” she said and walked
towards the foreign car. She saw the driver step out and open the door
for the passenger before she had come halfway. Julian got out. He
glanced at the sun and moved into the shade under a tree. Caitlin
steeled herself, although all she wanted to do was to run to him. She
was shocked when she came close enough to see him clearly. Even the wide
coat couldn’t hide the fact that he must have lost at least ten pounds,
if not more.
    “Julian!” she exclaimed. “What has happened to you?”
    She saw him exhale; he had been holding his breath.
    “I’ve been on a diet,” he said and smiled. “No ice cream.”
    But Caitlin wasn’t in the mood for jokes. One of her girlfriends in
high school had died of anorexia.
    “You’re ill,” she said. “You must see a doctor.”
    Julian sighed.
    “Caitlin, I’ve been busy and I’ve been depressed. You know that I
don’t have much of an appetite, but I haven’t been starving myself
deliberately,” he explained patiently. Julian felt ridiculous. He had
come to fight for her love, the last thing he had expected to do was to
be forced to defend his sanity. But for the moment Caitlin had forgotten
what had parted them. She took hold of his arm and started to drag him
towards her father’s car.
    “Come with us to the house,” she said, “there’s food.”
    “That’s exactly what I need,” he answered.
    If she heard the irony in his voice, she pretended that she didn’t,
and Julian was just too happy to be with her to say anything more. He
shook hands with the old astronomer and offered his sympathy again. He
took Caitlin’s hand when they were seated in the car and was gratified
by her reaction. She didn’t withdraw and her fingers closed over his.
    There was indeed a lot of food in the house, but this was a
situation Julian Luna was well trained to handle. He was an expert in
mingling among scores of humans, pretending that he was eating. Whenever
Caitlin saw him, there was a plate in his hand, and he seemed to be
chewing on something. Two hours later he had, in reality, eaten a
tomato, some candied fruit and a couple of cakes. He had drunk copious
amounts of mineral water and some coffee. He even accepted a cigarette
from somebody, but got rid of it discretely when the smoke made him
cough. He declared to everybody who asked that he was Caitlin’s fiancé.
He was congratulated and so was Caitlin. She gave him a dark look, but
he smiled and gave her a what was I supposed to say gesture. But one
young man took offense when he got the same answer to his:
    “And who might you be?”
    “Oh yeah!” the young man said aggressively, “and what makes you so
sure?” His hand pushed at Julian’s shoulder. He might just as well have
tried to move a brick wall. Julian’s amiable smile was gone instantly.
    “It might have something to do with the fact that Caitlin and I have
lived together for almost a year.”
    The man tried to shove Julian again, but this time his hand was
taken and removed. He made a swing but his fist was gripped in midair
and squeezed painfully.
    “You don’t want to lose your hand now, do you?” All the polish of
civilization was gone from Julian’s voice, clashing incongruously with
the upper class British accent. At the same moment Caitlin came to their
side.
   “Joe, have you gone mad?” She was on the verge of hysteria. “I’ve
just buried my mother!”
    The man she called Joe backed off.
    “I’m sorry Caitlin,” he said, “but this scarecrow here, he says that
you and he... that you two...” He was too upset to continue.
    Caitlin’s eyes turned to Julian. She looked him over and suddenly
smiled.
   “You do look rather scrawny, Julian,” she said. “You would make an
excellent scarecrow out here.” Her arms went around him and he hugged
her automatically. But he was still staring defiantly at the younger
man. Caitlin freed herself from Julian’s grasp, but took his arm and
dragged him along.
    “No brawls, please!” she said.
    “I didn’t start it,” Julian defended himself, looking back at his
opponent. “Who is he anyway?”
    “A high school boyfriend.” Caitlin didn’t look back. “An old
friend.”
    “Oh,” was all Julian said.
    “If you two want to fight it out, I hope you’ll do it someplace
else.” She sounded scornful, and Julian tried to gather some of his
dignity.
    “I’m not in the habit of getting into fist-fights over women.” The
British accent was there again.
    Yes, sure, you broke four ribs and almost strangled a man over
Lillie just a month ago, he thought.
    However, Joe kept out of his way. The short encounter with Caitlin’s
alleged fiancé told him that he would not get anywhere by sheer muscle.
    The house emptied in the early evening. Julian found Caitlin alone
in the kitchen. She was putting away some things, and he watched her
move around. At last she became aware of his presence and looked up.
    “Caitlin, do you want me to leave?” he asked.
    “No,” she answered, “I think it’s time we had that talk.”
    He nodded but didn’t say anything, looking away.
    He’s ashamed, Caitlin thought. So Amy didn’t imagine everything.
    “Let’s go to the sitting room,” she said.
    He followed without a word. Caitlin sat down on the couch, patting
the space beside. He sat down and took her hand, still not looking at
her.
    “Caitlin,” he started at last, “that girl, in the club, whatever her
name was...”
    “Amy, Anamaria.” Caitlin was helpful.
    “I was sad, upset, I had been drinking.” The last one was a lie;
alcohol had no effect on Kindred physiology unless it was already
diluted by blood. “She came after me,” he continued, “she was a
stranger. I didn’t know that she had followed me around. We...  were
together,” his voice broke, “just a moment to forget how lonely I was.”
He looked at her, trying to read her expression. “Please, Caitlin,
forgive me.”
    Her fingers hardened on his hand.
    “Poor Amy,” she said. “For you it was a moment to forget, for her,
to remember. What has happened to her?” she asked the inevitable
question.
    “I truly don’t know, I never saw her again.” The experience of more
than a hundred years made lying smooth and easy; it also made him feel
sick.
    “According to her diary, she intended to contact you,” Caitlin
mused.
    “If she did, she didn’t succeed.” Julian would get out of that one
too. “You know how good I am at keeping myself out of reach.”
    Caitlin knew that very well.
    He raised her hand to his lips.
    “Will you forgive me?” he asked again.
    She looked into his eyes for a very long moment.
    “If you ever...” There was a smirk on her face. “There is no better
expression for it - if you ever fuck any of my associates again,” he
winced at her choice of words, “I’ll do the same to you.”
    The expression of shock on his face was quite satisfying, but she
wasn’t finished.
    “But if you ever lie to me again, I’ll do something much worse.”
    He stared at her aghast.
    “What do you mean?” he asked.
     She laughed.
    “Just remember my words.” She took in his terrified expression.
“I’ll think of something,” she added.
    He tried to kiss her, but she stopped him, a hand on his chest, her
head shaking.
    “There is more.”
    “More?” He sounded alarmed again.
    Caitlin took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on his face.
    “Before she died, my mother asked me a very strange question. She
wanted to know why I had hurt you so badly when we were here. I don’t
know if she was delirious, the medication she was on was rather strong.
But she was quite adamant about it; she talked about blood, lots of
blood. I want to know what happened?”
    Julian’s mind changed to the highest gear.
    Don’t start lying again, tell her the truth, the whole truth! it
screamed at him. But he couldn’t bring himself to disclose the
Masquerade. He glanced at her for a short moment and looked away.
    “You did hurt me,” he said at last. “Rather badly.”
    “How?!”
    “You bit me.” His voice was barely a whisper.
    “Where?!”
    He turned away, but she saw his face darken in embarrassment.
Caitlin stared at him for a moment and then blushed even harder than he
did when the realization dawned on her.
    “Oh, Julian,” she whimpered, “why can’t I remember?”
    “I don’t think you were aware of what you were doing,” he said
taking her into his arms, “and I survived.” He tried to joke it away,
but to his dismay, she started to cry.
    “Why do I keep doing this?” she sobbed. “I know that I have done it
before. Why?”
    He waited until she had calmed a little.
    “Caitlin, whatever you do, I want you to know that you can never
harm me permanently. Whatever you do, it’s all right.”
    Tell her! his mind insisted.
    “Caitlin,” he shook her a little, demanding her attention, “the pain
that you are able to inflict... it gives me pleasure, no matter how bad
it is. I think that you do it because deep inside you, you know how much
I enjoy it.”
    She looked at him fearfully.
    “But I don’t want to harm you,” she sighed.
    “You can’t harm me Caitlin, at least not physically. Not without a
weapon.” He made her sit in his lap. “The only danger, is that I might
harm you if I respond too eagerly.” He hugged her again. “Just remember,
you can always stop me.”
    “A simple no will suffice,” she used his own line.
    “Yes, a simple no will suffice,” he repeated.

    James Byrne was annoyed. When Caitlin had come home, he understood
immediately that her relationship with Julian Luna was in trouble. Not
that he minded. He didn’t like that cocky type anyway. But when Julian
turned up, looking like he had been on the world’s best diet, he
couldn’t help feeling sorry for the young fellow. It was almost midnight
and, true to his old habits, Mr. Byrne peeked into the guestroom. It was
empty. He went up to Caitlin’s room prepared to make a scene, but
Caitlin’s room was equally empty. At last he found them in the sitting
room. Caitlin was stretched out on the couch, her head on Julian knee,
who was just sitting there, one hand on Caitlin’s shoulder, the other
cradling her head. They were both fully dressed, but the old man didn’t
like what he saw. He opened his mouth, but before he could say
something, Julian raised his hand and put a finger to his lips in a
telling gesture.
    “Shhhh,” he whispered, “she’s finally asleep.” His hand moved back
to Caitlin’s shoulder. “She was so sad,” he added.
    “Then maybe we should put her to bed,” the old man suggested.
    Julian nodded and rose from the couch after putting his arms under
Caitlin’s back and knees.
    “If you would be so kind and open the doors for me,” he said.
    Caitlin’s father led the way. Julian placed Caitlin carefully on her
bed and spread a blanket over her. Carrying Caitlin through the house
and up the stairs didn’t even quicken his breath.
    “Not bad for a scarecrow,” the old man commented.
    “This is the third time I’ve been called that today,” Julian said
with exasperation. “Do I really look that bad?”
    “Well, I’ve seen you in better shape,” Caitlin’s father answered.
“Have you two come to terms?”
    “Yes, we have reconciled our differences.” He smiled at the old man.
As they walked down the stairs, Caitlin’s father suggested a snack, but
Julian declined with horror.
    “I’ve eaten too much already,” he explained. “I think I’ll try to
get some sleep too.” He turned towards the guestroom.
    “Julian.” It was the first time that Caitlin’s father had called him
by his given name and he turned back in surprise. “My wife, she really
liked you, I’m glad you came to the funeral.”
    “Thank you.” Julian didn’t know what else to say. The old man looked
at him for a long moment.
    “Oh, hell,” he said at last, “go back to her.” He smiled watching
Julian bolt up the stairs. When he brought breakfast to Caitlin’s room
in the morning, they were both fast asleep in each others arms, and both
still dressed: Julian had only taken off his jacket and shoes.
 

    Julian woke up first, and made off with part of the breakfast that
Caitlin’s father had provided. He drank the orange juice, but destroyed
the solid food in the bathroom. Let Caitlin believe that he ate it. He
called his car, and a suitcase with fresh clothes was brought to the
house twenty minutes later. When Caitlin came down, her hair still wet
from the shower, munching on the last piece of toast that he had left
for her, he was again the impeccable Julian Luna, sharing a morning
paper and a cup of tea with her father.
    “Good morning, Caitlin,” both men said simultaneously, and she shook
her finger at them in mock desperation. She had woken in the middle of
the night, and finding Julian in her bed had alarmed her.
    “Julian, what are you doing here?” she had whispered urgently. “My
father...”
    But he had hushed her.
    “Your father told me to... take care of you.”
    He had stayed with her all night, just holding her. It wasn’t a
problem, he had gorged himself the previous night before leaving San
Francisco, not knowing when the next opportunity to feed would arise.
    No worse than a blood-filled mosquito, he had thought, his dry sense
of humor counterbalancing his darker side. His strength and his health
were restored, but it would take a little longer to rebuild his posture,
and to regain the subcutaneous fat, necessary to bring back his normal
appearance. He had looked at himself in the bathroom mirror this very
morning. Every muscle strand was visible under the thin layer of skin,
bones protruding, a rather unpleasant sight. A scarecrow indeed! He
would have to remedy that as soon as possible, or Caitlin’s accusations
of anorexia might become a permanent nuisance.
    “How long can you stay?” Caitlin asked, breaking into his reverie.
    “I must be back in San Francisco tonight,” Julian answered. “Will
you come with me or are you going to stay here longer?”
    Caitlin looked at her father.
    “I’d like to stay just a few more days, if it’s okay?” She looked
from one man to the other, and they both nodded. Julian smiled at her
reassuringly.
    “Just call, and I will send the plane for you,” he said. “Arthur was
rather exhausted after that long drive.”
    “Julian!” Caitlin retorted, “I’m quite capable of traveling on my
own.”
    “I know.” He gave her a special smile. “But if you order the plane,
I might come with it. Special delivery.”
    Caitlin laughed to cover her embarrassment.
    Julian had to leave before lunchtime, and they decided to take a
walk in the woods before then. They didn’t go far, spending most of the
time talking nonsense and kissing. The ground was still wet after
yesterday’s rain, squishing under their feet with every step. They stood
on a tiny hill, the driest place they could find, Julian’s back against
the trunk of an old pine. They kissed passionately, but when he reached
for more, he felt her body resist. He had hurt her feelings and she was
not yet ready to forgive. He accepted that, knowing that her resentment
would pass. But he wouldn’t hide his desire from her the way he had done
in the past. His grip around her hardened, and he pressed her close,
chaffing against her belly. She backed away from him, and he let her,
grunting with disappointment.  But her hand touched him in the next
moment, her fingers closing on him quite hard, rubbing him through the
fabric of his pants.
    Julian winced.
    “Caitlin,” he whispered, “don’t start something you don’t intend to
finish.”
    “Shut up,” she murmured, and he did.
    She kneeled in front of him, and opened his pants, tugging at them,
just enough to expose him. Her hands touched him lightly, moving very
slowly. He bit his lip, trying to keep quiet and looked down at her. She
was examining him intently. In spite of the chilly air, he was hotter
than ever.
    “Caitlin,” his voice was uneven, “I’m quite all right. There are
no... scars.” Of course, there weren’t. Had Julian been human, he
probably would have been maimed by what Caitlin had done. His Kindred
physiology had healed the injury without a trace. “I’m all right,”
Julian repeated.
    “Umm..., I can see that!” The tone of her voice gave her words a
double meaning.
    He was very still, looking at her when her lips encircled him, and
he threw back his head with a loud groan. For all his strength, his legs
refused to support him, and he slid along the tree until he was sitting
on the ground. She let go of him, and the sudden onslaught of cold made
him shiver. She stood looking at his disheveled apparition. He always
looked younger and vulnerable when his clothes were awry and his hair
tousled. His eyes widened as he saw her take off her jeans. She kept her
sweater on, it covered her halfway down her thighs. But when she came
down on him, he realized that she was naked underneath, and he ceased to
feel the cold. He leaned away from the tree, lying down on the ground,
quite oblivious of the wetness that soaked through his clothes. Caitlin
moved with deliberate slowness at first, relishing in the pleasure she
was giving, but soon their movements became more urgent and more in
unison. He didn’t even try to hold back, his body shuddering with the
violent release, long seconds passing before he remembered to breathe
again. Caitlin watched his face relax. He opened his eyes, and blinked
several times before smiling at her.
    “Caitlin,” he sighed as his hands took hold of her, dragging her
down until he could kiss her.  The kiss became more urgent as his hands
slid under her sweater and rubbed her breasts. He pushed her bra out of
the way, and her nipples responded to his touch. She felt him become
hard inside her again as he restarted his movements.
    Suddenly a shot rang out with a deafening bang, and Caitlin
screamed.
 

    The series of mistakes that Joe Montegna had amassed was unending.
    However, at the moment he was impressed. He had aimed at the raised
leg, just three inches above the knee. The bullet hit exactly the spot
he had intended it to. To his surprise, the only scream he heard was
Caitlin’s. The man whose leg had been straightened by the shot didn’t
utter a sound. He had reacted instantly, grabbing hold of Caitlin, and
rolling over, shoving the woman’s body underneath his. But Joe picked up
his rifle and ran away laughing to himself.
    That should teach that big city dude, with his silk suits, foreign
cars and his slicked hair, to come here and steal women! Joe was quite
satisfied with himself.
    He had watched the old Byrne’s house in the evening and knew that
that jerk with the phony British accent had stayed the night. He had to
come out sooner or later!
    When they came out in the morning, Joe was waiting. He followed
their slow progress. An experienced hunter like Joe was able to move
through the underbrush almost soundlessly. He saw them stop under the
old pine. What he saw next appalled him. Caitlin, on her knees, doing
that... unspeakable thing! Joe had raised his rifle, the cross hairs
unmoving on the man’s neck, just below the ear. But no, Joe didn’t want
to spend the rest of his life in prison, he moved his aim to the
shoulder. In the same moment, the intended victim had sat down on the
ground and Caitlin had started taking off her clothes; Joe was no longer
sure of his hands. By the time the weapon was steadied again, all Joe
could see was Caitlin’s heaving body, her sweater still on.
    “Damn!” Joe swore under his breath. He started to creep closer.
    They wouldn’t notice a charging bear now, he decided. He heard the
man cry out, and was sorry that he didn’t get there before that. He saw
Caitlin’s body disappear and the man’s knee come up instead.
    Perfect, Joe smiled to himself. He fired in the next moment and
heard Caitlin scream. Joe rose just in time to see the injured leg fall
down, the blood spurting out, and the man’s desperate reaction aimed at
protecting the woman.
    There, Joe thought while he ran, that should show you! But he
couldn’t help being impressed by the injured man’s heroic effort to
shield Caitlin with his own life. Joe Montegna appreciated courage when
he saw it.
    None of this would have happened had Julian just given in to Joe a
little bit the previous evening. A punch would have been even better,
and Joe would have been satisfied with that, leaving Julian and Caitlin
alone. But his inability to make any impact whatsoever on her lover made
Joe mad. He had not set out to kill anybody, he just wanted to make a
point. That’s why he didn’t shoot Julian Luna in the head. Not that it
would have killed the Kindred, but the damage would have been much more
severe.
    Joe stopped running in a ravine. He was safe here. There would be a
police investigation, he was sure about that. He would say that he saw
something in the grass when he was out hunting and shot it. No deadly
injury, the damage wasn’t even serious. Some blood lost and a lot of
pain. A misdemeanor, end of the story. Worth a few months in prison in
any case. An accident, if he were lucky.

    Suddenly, Joe saw something out of the corner of his eye and turned
abruptly. A big, gray wolf was standing just thirty feet away, looking
at him with big yellow eyes.
    “What the hell!” Joe raised his rifle, but the wolf was gone when he
looked through the sight. He turned, and there it was again, only much
closer. Joe Montegna saw the injured hind leg as it sprang, and he saw
the wolf’s eyes flash in a strange green color...

    Julian had quieted Caitlin’s scream by putting a hand over her
mouth. In the silence that ensued he could hear the attacker running
away. He waited another minute, sharpening his senses to the utmost.
    Nothing. They were alone again.
    Julian let go of Caitlin and looked at his injured leg. It was the
cleanest shot he had ever seen. The gunman must have been quite close.
The high velocity of the bullet had propelled it through his leg as if
it were a piece of paper. The exit wound on the inside of Julian’s thigh
wasn’t any bigger than the entrance hole on the outside. The bleeding
had already stopped, it would heal in less than two hours. Julian was
thinking fast. He had to disappear within the next hour or his healing
ability would become a nationwide event.
   “Caitlin, go to the house and call this number.” He made her memorize
the number to his car. “Tell them what has happened.”
    “But... the police.” She was bewildered. “A doctor...”
    “Caitlin!” Julian was exasperated. “Forget the police, do you want
your friend to go to jail?”
    “How can you know that it was him?” she asked.
    “I don’t!” He couldn’t tell her that he had recognized the smell.
“But who else might it be?”
    She started to cry.
    “Caitlin, please! You can do the crying later. Now, get help!”
    She got up and started towards the house, but he called her back.
    “Put on your jeans,” he said smiling. “One scandal at a time is
enough.”
    She laughed nervously, and went after he had assured her that he
would be all right. As soon as she disappeared, he got up without much
effort.
    Seconds later, a big gray wolf was following the scent of the
running man.
    When Caitlin came back to the big pine, Julian Luna was sitting in
its shade. He had got his pants in order but his shirt was off and made
into a tourniquet. He let his guards carry him, not wanting Caitlin to
see that he was perfectly able to walk, the wound hardly troubling him.
Within an hour, Julian was on his plane, bound for San Francisco.
Caitlin wanted to go with him, but he had made her stay with her father
a little longer.
    “I have a hole in my leg, that’s true,” he had answered her
protests, “but your father has just lost his wife.”
    Caitlin returned to San Francisco a week later.
    There was no investigation concerning the shooting of Julian Luna;
however, there was one concerning the disappearance of Joe Montegna. His
horribly mutilated body was found in a ravine a few days after Caitlin
had left, and it was concluded that a wild animal had killed him. The
police didn’t know about the shooting: old Byrne never told anybody what
he knew about it, and Caitlin never made the connection between the
bullet that had pierced Julian’s leg and the death of her high school
beau.
    However, she was confounded when she noticed some weeks later that
the bullet had not left any scars on Julian’s thigh.
 

    Caitlin felt rather stupid when she went to the AA meeting. She had
read an ad about it in her own paper and decided to go there at the last
minute. AA had nothing to do with alcoholics, it stood for “Anonymous
Abductees”. She sat in the back, deciding that she would keep an open
mind, but after an hour of listening concluded that her mind wasn’t open
enough to let her brains fall out. She was on her way out when somebody
called her name.
    That voice! She would recognize it in her sleep!
    “Biggy!” she exclaimed turning around.
    He locked her in a bear hug, lifting her up in the air.
    “Caitlin Byrne!” he bellowed in her ear, “don’t tell me that you
have been abducted by aliens! It is Byrne still or has somebody stolen
you?” He put her down laughing.
    “No and yes and yes,” she laughed back.
    “What do you mean - no and yes and yes?” he looked at her sternly.
    “No, I have not been abducted by aliens, and yes, it’s still Byrne,
and yes, somebody has stolen me,” she answered, still laughing.
    “Ah!” his laugh was back, “the enigmatic Julian Luna. I’m not
totally out of touch with the world in my little radio station. But what
are you doing here?”
    “I was looking for a story,” Caitlin lied. “I could ask you the
same.”
    “And you would get the same answer.” He put an arm around her
shoulders. “Come on, let’s get a drink and we can compare notes.”
    Caitlin followed him happily to a bar nearby.
    Biggy’s real name was Samuel Heims, but nobody called him anything
but Biggy. The nickname had already been stuck ten years ago when
Caitlin had been his student. His programs on the radio were named An
Hour with Biggy, or Talk to Biggy, or something similar. His mesmerizing
voice could charm a snake out of its skin, and he was extremely popular
among the night owls of San Francisco. If Biggy intended to talk about
aliens on the radio, people would listen.
    Caitlin accepted the whiskey he ordered for her.
    “Okay,” she said, “I was just fishing for something for the Sunday
supplement. But what were you after?”
    “I got an empty hour in the dead of night, between three and four
a.m. I was thinking about making it really spooky. You know, the
paranormal stuff: ghosts, aliens, clairvoyance and the like. I’d just
love to make chopped liver out of it!” He started laughing again. “But
tell me about yourself. Or better yet, tell me about Julian Luna, now
that we’re talking about aliens.”
    “Wh... What do you mean?” Caitlin was taken aback.
    “Aw... Caitlin,” Biggy winced, “I didn’t mean it to sound like that,
but I have run into him a couple of times. You know that I don’t scare
easily, but that guy gives me the creeps!”
    With his six feet and five inches in either direction, Biggy wasn’t
easy to scare. Caitlin’s laugh became nervous.
    “There is nothing scary about Julian,” she said at last.
    “Maybe not to you,” Biggy said, “but I asked him something he didn’t
like, and he looked right through me. I mean literally. Like he was
measuring the size of my spine. And then he told me off. He flawlessly
deduced what I was after, and I wasn’t all that clear about it myself. I
tell you Caitlin, if anyone could get away with that mind-reading stuff,
it would be your boyfriend, Luna.”
    Caitlin couldn’t help but smile.
    “Yes, he’s rather good at that, isn’t he?” Her voice had turned soft
and tender, and the big man peered at her closely.
    “And you’re head over heels, absolutely and deadly in love with
him,” Biggy sounded slightly offended. “He must be something special in
bed, it can’t be his looks!”
    “Biggy!!!” Caitlin almost shouted, and he winked at her. She started
laughing again. To pretend to be scandalized by his comments was a lost
cause.
    “Caitlin,” he took her hand, “little kitten Caitlin, it’s me,
remember, it’s Biggy. You can trust me more than any girlfriend you ever
had.”
    That’s true! Caitlin thought and remembered Amy. But aloud she said
only:
    “I love Julian very much, and there is nothing wrong with his
looks.” She defended Julian hotly.
    Biggy made a funny face, and before she could stop herself, she
blurted out:
    “And he’s the best lover you can imagine!” She blushed hearing her
own words.
    “I can’t,” he said, shaking his head in mock sadness, “but I’m glad
that you think so.” Seeing her discomfiture, he changed the subject. “I
read about your kidnapping,” he said. “When I saw you at that meeting, I
thought it had something to do with that.”
    “No, no,” Caitlin shivered, “I was taken by a man as far as I know.”
There were tears in her eyes. “Oh, Biggy! He raped me!” She realized
that this was the first time she had told anybody about her rape beside
Julian, and started crying in earnest. Biggy put a comforting arm around
her back.
    “Caitlin, my little kitten.” Biggy’s famous voice could be more
soothing than any medicine. “Caitlin, I’m so sorry!” He waited a long
moment before asking, “Does Julian know?”
    She nodded.
    “If it weren’t for Julian, I think that I would have gone mad. He
was wonderful!” She was trying to stop crying, realizing that most of
her makeup had ended up in her whiskey glass. Biggy ordered another
round.
    “I’m beginning to like the guy,” he commented.
    Caitlin took another sip and looked up at her friend.
    “Biggy,” her voice was still a little shaky, “all that paranormal
bull, is there anything to it?”
    “Which bull exactly are you referring to?” he asked.
    She looked away for a moment before returning her gaze to the big
man, suddenly aware that she had picked up the habit from Julian.
    “Healing,” she said at last. “Do you know anything about it?”
    He looked at her suspiciously.
    “Who has healed whom?” There was a teasing tone in his voice, but
Caitlin would not be swayed.
    “Julian,” she answered.
    “Tell me about it!” The teasing was gone momentarily.
    Caitlin told Biggy everything. She had destroyed the list of
Julian’s strange traits that she had made some months ago, but her
memory brought it up in an instant. She didn’t omit anything, telling
him even the most intimate details. Biggy listened to her without
interrupting, she had the satisfaction of seeing him turn red with
embarrassment when she talked about the love-making, and what Julian
could do afterwards. She told him about the biting and the lack of
scars. When she had finished, she realized that confiding in Biggy was
the best thing that she could have done. She was not mad. Everything had
happened.
    Biggy didn’t ask if she was pulling his leg. Instead he sat thinking
for a long time before saying:
    “He does sound a little strange.”
    “A little!” Caitlin exclaimed.
    “Well,” he mused, “there is no Sunday supplement, is there?” When
she nodded, he continued.  “That abductee meeting, you went there out of
sheer desperation.” She nodded again, and he smiled. “He loves you, and
that alone makes him human!”
    “I’m not saying that he isn’t human,” Caitlin said. “I don’t know
what he is!” she whimpered.
    “Okay.” Biggy accepted the challenge. “Let’s look at it
scientifically. What was first on your list? Health?”
    Caitlin nodded, and Biggy lifted his hand, ticking off on his
fingers as he talked.
    “I haven’t been sick since high school, so I’m not impressed. High
body temperature, it’s not as unusual as you think: it has something to
do with how that thermostat in your brain is tuned. I don’t know much
about it. I do know however, that heat renders men sterile. So that one
checks.”
    Biggy lowered next finger.
    “Sight and hearing, that’s individual. It’s not like he can see
through walls or read something he can’t see?” he asked, and Caitlin
shook her head.
    “As I said, it’s individual. Some people have better senses than the
majority. You know, perfume experts, wine tasters. The human eye is very
sensitive, it can discern the smallest unit of light, a photon. I think,
it’s just a question of being aware of what you see. It could be the
same with the hearing. The range of human hearing is limited, but the
standards aren’t rigid. Just think about those who have perfect pitch.
It’s a miracle that we, mere mortals, are unable to fathom.”
    Caitlin nodded. Biggy was making sense. Another finger went down.
    “The strength,” he laughed, “all men were not created equal. With
proper training and some drugs, the differences can be made spectacular.
I don’t know if I could break a big steel padlock, but I would not back
off at the mere sight of it. Strength is a male thing, Caitlin. We are
stronger than women; evolution has made physical strength one of the
main attributes in our competition for women. We nurse it tenderly,
although we no longer need it. A show of power will impress you whether
you like it or not. It’s in your genes, just as showing off is in ours.
If a man is stronger than others are, he’ll have more women, even in our
civilized society. If memory serves me right, Mr. Luna used to have
quite a reputation as a ladies’ man, no offense. How strong is he?”
    “I don’t really know,” Caitlin said.
    “But you haven’t seen him do anything superhuman, have you?”
    “Nnno,” Caitlin was leafing through her memories, “not really.
They... just back off.”
    “Well,” Biggy shook his head, “with what you have told me, I’d
probably back off too. Besides, he is half my age, and probably has half
my reaction time too.”
    The last remark made Caitlin laugh. Biggy opened his hand and
started anew.
    “Now, the food. You are probably right, he eats when nobody can see
him. What he eats, that’s another matter. Maybe he eats baby formula, or
something equally detestable. It must be something really rich, if he
lost so much weight within a couple of weeks of abstaining. Did he
regain it?”
    “Yes,” Caitlin answered, “he was back to his normal weight within a
month.”
    “Whatever it is, he wants to keep it a secret.” Biggy’s fingers
lifted Caitlin’s chin. “I think you should let him. You said that he
abhors meat, so whatever he stuffs himself with can’t be that bad. Let
it be.”
    Caitlin nodded agreement.
    “It isn’t really important, is it?” she wondered aloud.
    “No, probably not.” Biggy took hold of his middle finger. “Now, we
come to the tricky parts, sex.”
    Caitlin looked away again.
    “I still can’t believe that I blabbed,” she said blushing.
    “Well, I’m glad you did,” Biggy’s voice was serious, “and it’s not
just because I enjoyed hearing it. At the risk of repeating myself, I
say it again; men were not created equal. My wife left me seven years
ago, and my memory, although good, is rather short. But even in the
beginning of my sexual career, and I considered myself quite an athlete,
as all men do, I was able to have sex three or four times in a row
within a given amount of time, say three to five hours. After that, I’d
be dead.”
    Caitlin just looked at him, shrugging helplessly.
    “Oh, I’ve heard all those tall stories that circulate in locker
rooms,” Biggy went on, “but they are just that, stories. So, what you
describe is rather out of the ordinary. On the other hand, if I had a
lady like you Caitlin, I wouldn’t mind killing myself by making love to
her.”
    Caitlin blushed even more.
    “It’s not like he’s killing himself,” she said. “I’m the one who
drops dead.”
    “Good for you!” Biggy’s face was one big happy smile. “But think
now, Caitlin. Our perception of time can change dramatically, especially
when emotions are involved. Did you take time? Did you count?”
    Caitlin hid her face in her hands, and Biggy leaned back
triumphantly.
    “There, you see,” he said, and Caitlin answered:
    “I did.”
    “Oh,” the triumphant smirk faded, “well?”
    Caitlin chose one particular night.
    “From eleven in the evening till four in the morning,” she was
whispering behind her hands, “seven,” she added.
    “Seven what?” Biggy was relentless. “You or him?”
    “Julian,” her whisper was hardly audible. “I lost count of mine.”
    “Oh.” Biggy was staring. “Are you sure?”
    Caitlin didn’t like having her credibility questioned.
    “Of course I’m sure, I can count!” She stared back at him
belligerently. “And don’t say that I could be mistaken. Julian’s...
well, it’s rather difficult to miss.” She calmed down. “Then I dropped
dead. Julian was quite prepared to go on.”
    Biggy whistled.
    “Must have been quite a mess,” he said, and they both laughed. “And
he’s like that all the time,” he prodded on, “not a freak accident?”
    “Uhm,” Caitlin nodded, “I wouldn’t make an issue of it otherwise. I
don’t have your experience, but even I realize that it’s rather out of
the ordinary.”
    “You can bet your pretty little ass, it is,” Biggy was really
impressed. “But then you already have.”
    “Don’t be vulgar, Biggy!” Caitlin was beyond being embarrassed. “I
expect help from you, not dirty comments.”
    “I’m sorry,” he backed off, “but you can’t blame a guy for being
envious in this case. Frankly, I don’t know what to say. If anyone but
you told me this, I would take it with many grains of salt, but I
believe you. It sounds like the wishful thinking of every male on this
planet. If anything, it makes him more human rather than less. Still,”
he pondered for a moment, “weird as it sounds, maybe there are sexual
athletes in real life, and he is one of them. I really don’t know.”
    “Okay,” Caitlin went on, “what about the biting, the violence?”
    “Now we’re on more familiar ground,” Biggy perked up, making Caitlin
wince. “Don’t look at me like that,” he added, “I just happen to know
more than you do. Age’s privilege. Caitlin, my kitten, the ways people
enjoy themselves are manifold. It’s all right, even if it hurts a little
sometimes. Take it from an old teacher, as long as you two love each
other, you won’t do each other any harm.”
    But Caitlin wasn’t entirely convinced. She told him about what she
knew had transpired in her father’s house.
    “I really hurt him there, he admitted that.” She was on the verge of
crying again, her fifth whiskey in hand. “And I don’t even remember!”
    “Ouch!” Biggy was shaken. “It couldn’t have been as bad as you
think. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let you touch him again. I know, I
wouldn’t!”
    Caitlin let her tears fall.
    “My mother said there was so much blood. She was really shaken. And
Julian said that he had enjoyed it. Oh, my God!” The rest of Caitlin’s
makeup dissolved in her tears.
    “He sounds a little kinky to me,” Biggy said lamely, he felt a
little sick. Whether it was the whiskey or Caitlin’s confession, he
couldn’t tell.
    “And why can’t I remember?” Caitlin was angry with herself, and
Biggy patted her on the back.
    “You don’t want to remember.” He felt more secure again. “You did
something your mind didn’t like, so it pretends that you didn’t do it at
all. Ask any shrink.”
    Caitlin breathed in sharply.
    “Okay,” she said, “what’s left?”
    “The healing capabilities,” Biggy helped.
    “So, how can you explain that?” She challenged him.
    “I can’t,” the alcohol had made Biggy flippant, “but I sure as hell
would like to have some of that.”
    “You’re some help!” Caitlin wasn’t in any better condition.
    “No, I guess, I’m not.” He looked at her sideways. “But you know
what, I’d like to meet Mr. Luna. Can you arrange that?”
    “Sure, piece of cake.” Caitlin was drunk, and nothing was beyond her
capability. “I’ll make him take us to dinner tomorrow. That French
restaurant that we couldn’t afford unless you paid, remember?”
    “Of course I remember.” There was nothing wrong with Biggy’s memory.
“It’s still there, more expensive than ever. What makes you think that
he will want to come?”
    “Don’t you worry about that,” Caitlin said with a sly smile. “I have
my tricks. He will come, he will pay, and he will watch us eat. Don’t
you worry,” she repeated, and took out the phone from her bag. She had
turned it off when they came into the bar. Now it took her three
attempts before Arthur answered.
    “Caitlin,” she heard the relief in his voice, “Mr. Luna was very
worried when you didn’t come to the opera...”
    “Oh, shit!” Caitlin shouted. “I forgot! What time is it?”
    “It’s ten past eleven,” Arthur answered.
    “Oh, shit,” Caitlin repeated much more quietly. The Nabucco had
started at nine.
    “Trouble?” Biggy peered at her worriedly, but she shook her head and
returned her attention to the phone.
    “Arthur, please come and get me.” She looked at Biggy inquiringly.
“Where are we?”
    He gave her the address and name of the bar and she repeated them
into the phone.
    “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Arthur said and the connection
was broken.
    Caitlin’s attention returned to Biggy.
    “Julian will wring my neck,” she said giggling, apparently not very
worried. “Will eight tomorrow be okay?”
    “Yes, sure. Can you pick me up at my station?” Biggy was doubtful.
“What makes you so sure that he will want to come?”
    But Caitlin laughed.
    “Oh, he’ll come. Wild horses couldn’t keep him away.” She drank the
rest of her whiskey and got up unsteadily. “See you tomorrow then,” she
said and kissed his cheek.
    He got up too saying:
    “Let me help you.” He was in much better condition than Caitlin, but
she stopped him.
    “No, no. Arthur mustn’t see you, it’s part of the plan!”
    She managed to get out of the bar on her own, and Biggy saw a tall,
blond man help her into a big car. The car speeded away soundlessly.
 

    Julian smelled the whiskey the moment Arthur opened the door of the
car. He looked at the guard inquiringly, but Arthur shrugged and nodded
towards the back seat. Caitlin had curled up there, her body occupying
the whole width of the car. Julian hesitated for a moment before getting
in, lifting her head and shoulders on his lap. The smell of alcohol was
overwhelming. He shook her a little and called her name. Her eyes
fluttered open.
    “What happened?” he asked, his voice sharp.
    “Julian,” she mumbled, “don’t be mad. I’m drunk.”
    “I’ve noticed.” He couldn’t help smiling, relieved as he was that
there was nothing else wrong with her. “You’ve missed the Nabucco,” he
added.
    “I know, I’m sorry.” She made an effort to sit up, and he helped
her. “I met an old friend, haven’t seen him in five years. We went to a
bar... talked... got very drunk. I forgot the opera.” She snuggled
close, hiding her face against his chest. “Please, forgive me. My best
friend from college...” She felt his arms harden around her and she
giggled.
    “Invited him to dinner tomorrow.” Her arms sneaked up, closing
around his neck, and she used her grip to move up. His arms supported
her and she was able to sit in his lap. Her lips touched his skin just
beneath his ear, and she felt a shiver move through his body.
    “La Belle Époque,” she was saying, “at eight.” Her lips moved across
his cheek, and he turned his head a little, catching her mouth with his.
The taste of whiskey made him wince, but the softness of her tongue and
lips was enticing. She broke the kiss and tried to move again, and again
he supported her, trying to guess what she was aiming to do. She
straddled him, her knees pressing his thighs, her body leaning against
him. He felt himself respond to her closeness.
    Why do I have to be so addicted to this woman? he thought.
    “Caitlin...” he started, but she kissed him again. By the time she
broke the kiss, he had forgotten what it was he had been trying to say.
She smiled sweetly.
    “You can come too, if you want to,” she was still smiling, and her
eyes were glittering, “meet one of my best and oldest friends.”
    Julian hardened his grip around her again.
    “You said eight, didn’t you?” His voice betrayed nothing.
    “Umm,” her lips touched his, very lightly, “La Belle...” she
whispered, and they kissed passionately again.
    The car stopped outside the mansion and Arthur had to help Caitlin
to disengage herself from the car. He led her towards the main house and
Julian helped her up the few steps. But once they were inside, she
stopped irresolutely in front of the stairs leading up to her bedroom.
Julian couldn’t help laughing.
    “Gentlemen,” he said, the British accent exaggerated far beyond the
natural, “the party is over, here start the stairs.”
    He had to carry her up; she was unable to walk, even with his
support. He held her head while she was sick and kept her from falling
in the shower. When he finally put her in her bed, she was totally
loose-limbed. He held her in his arms until she fell asleep.
    “Don’t worry, Caitlin,” his eyes shimmered green for a short moment,
“I’ll meet your friend. You deserve the hangover, but...” his hand
touched her head tenderly.
    She hadn’t fooled him for one second.
 

    In spite of Julian’s intervention, Caitlin didn’t feel all too well
the next morning. She had no headache, but she was dehydrated and her
mouth tasted foul. She decided to take the day off and stayed in bed all
morning, drawing the covers over her head. She tried to remember her
conversation with Biggy, and the more it came back to her, the more
ashamed she felt.
    I can’t sit those two at the same table, she thought desperately,
but she knew with absolute certainty that Julian would come to the
restaurant. There was nothing she could do about it, short of calling
the whole thing off. She was sick again when she tried to get up and
barely made it to the bathroom.
    Julian came at noon, bringing her a glass of water and a couple of
pills.
    “Aspirin,” he answered her unvoiced question. “Arthur told me that
you didn’t go to work today.”
    “Arthur is a gossip!” Caitlin commented.
    She managed to swallow the pills with the aid of a lot of water, and
fell back on the pillow.
    “Can’t you do anything about a hangover?” she said to Julian
accusingly.
    “I thought I did,” he answered, a ghost of a smile on his face. He
sat down beside her, his hand touching her face lightly. “It will pass,”
he added.
    Caitlin woke up in the afternoon, in much better shape. She took a
long, hot bath and spent several minutes in front of the mirror trying
to repair the damage the alcohol had caused.
    It’s amazing what can be done with a little powder and rouge, she
thought.
 

    She had Arthur drive her to La Belle Époque at half past seven,
waited until the car disappeared before calling a taxi and went to
Biggy’s radio station.  Biggy’s disappointment was apparent when he saw
that she was alone, but she hugged him and said:
    “Don’t worry, he’ll come,” and then added maliciously, “you can bet
your ass on that!”  They returned to the restaurant in the same taxi.
    Julian’s timing was perfect. He arrived just as they were pouring
over the several pages long list of deserts. Biggy saw Caitlin’s face
light up and turned around in his chair as Julian Luna approached their
table. Caitlin made the introductions finishing with:
    “Biggy taught me everything I know about journalism. He has always
been my fairy godmother.”
    But Julian realized the moment he saw the old man that he wasn’t
being introduced to a rival, but someone much more dangerous, an
investigator. He remembered the stories whispered among the Kindred,
accounts of the Inquisition and witch-hunts, and a bolt of fear cracked
his flawless appearance. Only Caitlin and Biggy interpreted his awkward
reaction as nervousness, and they both smiled reassuringly.
    “They have this coffee flavored ice cream,” Caitlin was saying,
“you’ll love it!”
    Julian accepted her proposition and ordered wine. He decided that
attack was the best defense.
    “We have met before, haven’t we, Mr. Heims?” he asked, his cool
voice implying that the meeting hadn’t been a success. But Biggy made a
disarming gesture.
    “The circumstances, as well as the company, were much less pleasant
than tonight,” he said, “and you put me in my place so beautifully, that
I still teach it to my students.” Biggy smiled showing all his teeth.
“If all interview victims were as sharp as you are, Mr. Luna, why, all
us poor reporters would be out of business.”
    Julian didn’t smile back, but Caitlin laughed out loud.
    “Biggy!” It took her some time before she could continue, “flattery
won’t get you anywhere!” Somehow, her comment cleared the air, and
Julian relaxed a little. But Biggy was single-minded.
    “We were talking about power,” he said, “but Caitlin, being of the
weaker sex, can’t grasp the true meaning of the concept.”
    “What kind of power did you have in mind?” Julian asked.
    “There, you see,” Biggy turned to Caitlin, “this is a man talking.”
He turned back to Julian. “The original kind, you know, muscle.” He made
a fist and flexed his arm. “I was trying to make Caitlin understand that
strength is something that men understand and women admire, wouldn’t you
agree?”
    But Julian’s eyes didn’t waver from Biggy’s face, nor did he say
anything, waiting for him to continue.
    “Caitlin told me what happened to her,” Biggy went on after a few
seconds, “and I’ve been trying to explain to her that rape is an act of
aggression. Barring the sick perverts, if a man commits that crime, it’s
a show of force. Anyway in this case, as I understand, it was a stranger
and the situation was already aggressive. Had you been a man, Caitlin,
he would have beaten you to a pulp. This way, you at least survived. I
believe that rape is so common because it’s a way for us to be
aggressive towards women without killing them. An evolutionary
advantage, as a matter of fact. A man who kills women won’t leave any
offspring.” Biggy stopped for a moment as if expecting a comment from
Julian, but none came. Instead, Julian cast a glance at Caitlin, as if
he wanted her to say something. But Caitlin leaned towards him, her hand
searching his. Julian’s fingers closed over hers in consolation. But
Biggy wasn’t finished yet.
    “You see,” he was talking to Julian, “we’re all potential rapists,
you and I are no exceptions.” Julian flinched visibly, and Biggy
misinterpreted his reaction. “Oh yes, you too,” he said.
    But I killed a woman in rage, Julian thought while Biggy continued,
“because if you aren’t, you’ll kill,” making Julian blink in surprise.
    “So what type do you think you are?” Biggy peered at Julian closely,
but didn’t receive an answer. “You’re definitely the killing type,”
Biggy answered his own question. “Dangerous and counter-productive.” He
leaned back, but Julian still refused to say anything. “Any comments?”
Biggy urged at last.
    “It’s impossible for me to be objective here.” Julian’s voice was
cautious and quiet. “I’m quite capable of killing, mentally as well as
physically. Rape however,” he shrugged, “the thought has never crossed
my mind.”
    He was aware that Caitlin’s hand was still in his, and that she had
hardened her grip. He looked at her and their eyes met.
    “Caitlin,” he was whispering, “if I could lay my hands on... the one
who hurt you, I’d kill him!”
    But Caitlin shook her head.
    “No,” she said, “no, it’s not worth losing you. I’m glad that I
don’t know who it was.”
    But I know! Julian’s face betrayed nothing. And eventually, Cameron
will pay.
    Caitlin’s eyes filled with tears and she hid her face against his
chest.
    Julian gave Biggy a threatening look that shouted let her be! Biggy
smiled innocently.
    “I didn’t mean to upset you, Caitlin,” he said, but he was talking
to Julian.
    He took a fork and bowed it with his fingers, before placing it in
front of Julian. Any human man would have been provoked by the
challenge, but the Kindred showed no interest in destroying cutlery. He
touched Caitlin’s face, making her look up at him. He kissed her lightly
and whispered in her ear:
    “Your makeup needs help.”
    She excused herself immediately and went to the ladies’ room. The
moment both men sat down after her departure, Julian picked up the
mauled fork and shoved it towards Biggy.
    “What are you trying to do?” he demanded, the anger in his voice
apparent.
    Biggy didn’t pretend innocence any longer.
    “Caitlin has talked,” he said. “She has spilled all the beans. I’ve
done my best to calm her down. Do you know where I found her yesterday?”
It was a rhetorical question because Biggy answered it himself. “At a
meeting of people who believe they have been abducted by aliens! She is
troubled, and you shouldn’t ignore it!”
    Julian recoiled in shock.
    “You’re not serious,” he whispered.
    “Oh, I’m serious, all right!” Biggy was very serious indeed. “If you
harm my little kitten Caitlin, you’ll have to answer to me!” He was
angry, and he didn’t mind showing it. But to his surprise, Julian
smiled.
    “What has she told you?” he asked.
    “Everything!” Biggy was at last getting somewhere. “How strong you
are, for instance.”
    But Julian shrugged dismissal.
    “I’m stronger than average, that’s all.” He looked pointedly at the
battered fork and shook his head. “Somewhat beyond that,” he added.
    Biggy placed his elbow on the table, his hand open, and said:
    “Let’s see, before Caitlin comes back.”
    Julian looked at him in disbelief. He was about to ask Are you mad?
and had to remind himself, he doesn’t know, he thinks I’m human. Only
Frank Kohanek is stupid enough to challenge a Kindred. He placed an
elbow on the table, their arms almost touching, presenting his slender
hand, which almost disappeared in Biggy’s giant paw. For a fleeting
moment Julian toyed with the notion of letting Biggy win, but when he
felt the pressure increase, his joints locked instinctively, and the
muscles in his arm turned to steel. He didn’t move his arm, but neither
could Biggy sway it. After several seconds the old man hissed:
    “Push!” and Julian laid the big fist on the table, showing no
strain. He let go the moment he felt Biggy relax.
    “That’s far beyond the average!” Biggy exclaimed. “You could make a
bundle out of that!”
    “I’m a businessman, not a wrestler,” Julian sounded offended. He
knew perfectly well that he was much stronger than any human man, but he
was also aware that disclosing the fact endangered the Masquerade. He
regretted that he hadn’t let Biggy win the arm wrestling. “I’m strong,
but I’m not superhuman,” he added. “There’s a limit to what I can do. Is
there anything else you wonder about?” He changed the subject, hoping
that it would distract the big man.
    “Ah!” Biggy jumped at the opportunity, “the healing!”
    “The healing?” Julian seemed at a loss. He sighed in exasperation.
“What did Caitlin tell you?”
    “That you can heal like a lizard!” the old man snickered.
    “I am a lizard!” A feeling of unreality came over Julian and he
started wondering if he could let the old man survive the evening. But
Biggy laughed at the joke, a rumbling, relieving laugh.
    “C’mon, it can’t be that bad! You’re not alone, you know. Lot of
this stuff goes around. New age medicine and all that crap.” Biggy was
still laughing. “Well?”
    So Julian decided to play dumb.
    “I really don’t know,” he said. “The doctors tell me that I heal
quicker and better than others. That’s all there is to it.” Of course,
Julian Luna had kept all those who were connected with any medical
profession at a healthy distance for more than a hundred years.  But
Biggy wasn’t satisfied yet.
    “What about Caitlin?” he asked.
    “What about her?” Julian continued to pretend stupidity.
    “She told me that you did it to her as well.” Biggy’s wink and the
expression on his face told Julian that the big man expected fraud, and
Julian took advantage of it.
    “Haven’t you heard of the art of suggestion?” he said with a
charming smile.
    The most rational minds are the easiest to fool, he thought with
gratitude and relief. The big man had saved his own life with his
doubts.
    But Biggy decided to enjoy himself to the very end.
    “The green eyes?” he inquired.
    Julian sighed tiredly.
    “I can’t do that deliberately.” Julian wanted to get away, he had
had enough.
    And then Biggy said:
    “Okay, I won’t ask about that other stuff, you wouldn’t like it.”
But as Julian’s gaze focused on him, he continued, staring right back.
“You know, the important stuff.” He made a vulgar gesture.
    As Biggy told Caitlin the previous evening, he wasn’t an easy man to
scare, but as he was staring into Julian Luna’s shining green eyes, he
felt the hair on his head rise and the rush of adrenaline almost choking
him. At that very moment Biggy realized with absolute certainty that
Caitlin’s handsome fiancé wasn’t human.
    “Oh God...” Biggy whispered, “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
    Slowly, Julian’s eye-color returned to normal, and he started to
breathe again.
    “Yes, you are,” he said.
    But Biggy was braver than most.
    “I don’t give a damn about myself,” he blurted, “but Caitlin...”
    “Caitlin is safe,” Julian said softly. “I love her, and I won’t let
any harm come to her.”
    “What are you?” Biggy asked at last, but Julian shook his head and
rose as Caitlin came back to them.
    They left the restaurant and Biggy refused to be driven home, making
Julian smile.
    “I will talk to you again,” he said to the big man, and seeing the
big frame flinch he added, “you shouldn’t be afraid of me, after all,
you’re Caitlin’s fairy godmother.”
    Julian refused to be engaged in any conversation in the car. Caitlin
gave up after a few attempts and fell quiet. Something was wrong, and it
scared her. She had sensed the change when she had returned to their
table, and the way Biggy avoided eye contact with her was ominous.
    Julian asked her to come with him to the library when they arrived
at the mansion. She followed him, the fright making her shiver in spite
of the warming fire. Julian looked at her for a long time without saying
anything. At last Caitlin couldn’t stand it anymore.
    “Julian, please, don’t just stand there,” she begged, “say
something!”
    She expected him to yell at her, steeling herself before what was
coming. Therefore, she was totally unprepared when Julian said with
infinite sadness:
    “Caitlin, today you have put my life in jeopardy.”
    She stared at him uncomprehending.
    “Julian! What...”
    But he stopped her, his hand rising as if he wanted to blot her from
his sight.
    “If the damage can’t be contained, we might have to part.” He turned
away, and she saw his shoulders shake as if he were crying.
    She started towards him, but he ran out of the library before she
could reach him.
    Caitlin spent that night alone, fear preventing her from sleeping.
---

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