A Fatal Case

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Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12

A FATAL CASE
 
By Idn
 
Stockolm 1998
 
 
     Spelling Television Inc. (A subsidiary of Spelling Entertainment Group Inc.) owns some of 
the characters in the following story. Vampire: The Masquerade is owned by Mark Rein- 
Hagen/White Wolf Publishing. My use of them is in no way a challenge to their copyrights.
This story, however, is mine.
     It starts immediately after the last scene of the final episode faded away.
 
     Mark Frankel, the actor who played the principal character Julian Luna in "Vampire: The 
Masquerade", died in a motorcycle accident in London on September 24, 1996. His death was the 
inspiration for this book. It began as a short story, written for fun, but developed into a full-length 
novel on request of my friend, Sofia. I have decided to print it for the enjoyment of my friends and 
myself.
     Mark Frankel is dead, but our Prince lives forever.
 
Introduction
     This book is about Kindred. They live among us and most of them can pass for humans. 
The Kindred can live for centuries; they are stronger than men and have other powers that are 
beyond our understanding. In order to maintain their lives and their powers, the Kindred must drink 
small amounts of human blood. They keep their existence secret, abiding by the rules of the 
Masquerade which has kept them safe through the ages.
     New Kindred are created through The Embrace, through which a human’s blood is exchanged 
with that of a Kindred. To do so, a Kindred must obtain the permission of the Prince and the human 
he wants to Embrace. The Kindred are divided into Clans and pay allegiance to the Clan leader, a 
Primogen, and to the Prince of the city in which they live. The Prince is the supreme ruler of the 
Kindred in his city.
     In the city of San Francisco Julian Luna of the Ventrue Clan is the Prince. Recently, he has 
been involved in a struggle for power, and his mentor and former Prince, Archon, has been killed by 
Cameron, the new Primogen of the Brujah Clan. However, the attempt to kill Julian has failed. 
Caitlin Byrne, a mortal woman, saved his life by feeding him her own blood. After having disclosed 
his secret, Julian has made her forget what had happened and what he had told her.
     Julian Luna has fallen in love with Caitlin. This is their story.
 
 
 
 
Chapter I
     Caitlin woke up with a start. Disoriented, she looked around trying to remember where she 
was. The bedroom was unfamiliar. The walls and ceiling were white and bare, the furniture dark 
brown and sparse. There was an open fireplace to the left, but the fire was dead. A little morning 
light filtered into the room through the drawn curtains. She was lying in an enormous bed, half 
immobilized by rumpled, twisted, creamy, silk sheets. She was alone, and felt quite cold and 
clammy. After disentangling herself from the silky restraints, she found the bathroom. It looked like 
a hotel bathroom to her. There were no personal things there. The towels were new: the toothpaste, 
toothbrush and soap still in their wrappings. Even the fluffy bathrobe had that hotel look about it, 
she almost expected to find the name Hyatt or Holiday Inn as she wrapped herself in it. With a 
pang of disappointment, she realized that she had spent the night in a guestroom. This was the first 
night that she had ever spent in Julian’s home and he had not taken her to his own bedroom, only to 
a guest room!
     The hot water revived her spirits, and she tried to sort out her feelings and memories. The 
weekend at Manzanita had been a disaster. It had started out pleasantly enough, although Julian 
seemed so tense, and then... then she remembered nothing but nightmares. This was a new 
experience. She had never taken any drugs, and she had never been drunk enough to lose track of 
time. But there, a couple of days were lost to her. Come to think of it, she had lost quite a few hours 
that day when the kidnapped baby had been recovered. And on both occasions Julian had been 
there when she regained her senses. Strange... Was he involved somehow? Well, she would just 
have to look into that mystery later. Right now, getting herself to work was the first priority. 
     She got out of the tub, and returned to the bedroom to find that a breakfast had been brought 
in. The curtains were open. A fire was blazing merrily in the fireplace, and the bed had been made. 
But still no Julian. 
     She sat at the table, and poured herself some coffee. Her memories returned to the previous 
night. She had come to Julian’s home late, and had been admitted without questions. As a reporter 
she was no stranger to death and the gloomy atmosphere which greeted her here was immediately 
recognizable. She had come to demand some answers, but, when she saw Julian, all her resolve had 
left her. She had never seen him so miserable. Someone had died and from the look of him, she 
gathered it must have been someone very close to him. The name Archon came to mind. That was 
the name he had called out when he had heard her steps. But when she questioned him about it, all 
she got was denial. He had averted his eyes, even as his hand searched out hers. It seemed like he 
had been on the verge of crying, and was fighting very hard to keep the tears back. Her heart had 
gone out to him. She wanted to comfort him, to take care of him, to hold him. But when she leaned 
towards him, he turned his face away. She stood up then, determined to leave and that was when it 
happened. Never, in her wildest dreams, had she imagined it possible. As she was turning away, 
trying to free her hand, instead of letting go as he had always done in the past, his grip hardened, 
forcing her to turn back. Surprised, she could only stand there, looking at him, saying nothing. 
After a moment that felt to her like an eternity he slid slowly from his chair and, kneeling, put his 
arms around her. 
     "Cait... Caitlin," his voice broke, "please, don’t go. Please, don’t leave me!"
     Her own reaction scared her. She felt triumphant. 
     "So, you are human after all, Julian," she whispered. The shiver that went through his body 
told her that he had heard her. He hadn’t been supposed to. She went down on her knees too and 
hugged him. 
     "I love you Julian," she said in a steady voice. "I won’t leave you."
     They hadn’t said or done much more that night. A part of her was disappointed that he hadn’t 
tried to make love to her, but another part reveled in his need of her presence. He held her in his 
arms, in that big bed, and she woke several times because his grip was so tight. She tried then to 
fight her way out of his embrace, but there was no way she could budge him even an inch as long as 
he was asleep. He was absolutely still and as responsive as a stone. Finally she had to wake him, 
shaking him and calling his name. It seemed to her that he was more unconscious than asleep, but 
when he did wake up, it was with instant alertness. She asked him if he had taken any medicine, but 
he denied it. She had to explain that she could not breathe because he held her too tightly, and he 
apologized for that. He looked pale and vulnerable. Whatever he used to do in order to force his 
dark hair into the severe lines he always showed in public was no longer working, and it was now in 
disarray of curls. He looked younger and weaker than she had ever seen him, and he refused to 
break the physical contact. His need to touch her made her heart break and sing at the same time. It 
was so confusing. Part of the fascination she felt for him had been aroused by his inner strength. 
Could it be so simple? Had she somehow broken through that rock-hard self-sufficiency?
     After several bouts of his suffocating clinging to her, she made him let go of her and put her arms 
around him instead. That seemed to satisfy him. He relaxed slowly; she felt his muscles slacken. 
But when she thought that he had gone back to sleep, he turned suddenly and, taking her face in his 
hands, said in a clear voice:
     "I love you, Caitlin. You’re like the air around me. Without you I will die."
     That made her tighten her grip around him. Nothing more was said that night. Caitlin was 
awake for a long time, thinking hard. A feeling of guilt crept over her. During all these months, she 
had been so preoccupied with her own feelings and desires that she hadn’t stopped once to 
consider Julian’s feelings. He had obviously been interested and attracted to her. He graciously 
accepted her every turn and move. He never showed any frustration at her erratic behavior. Here, in 
the darkness at his side, she had to admit, at least to herself, that she had acted like a capricious 
teenager. Leading him on and than stepping back when he responded: when his desire became 
apparent, his kisses hot, and his hands greedy. She felt her face become warm at these memories. 
Every time it happened, he showed nothing but patience, he would look away for a few seconds, and 
then he would be his calm self again, a smile on his face, reassuring words for her. Also, that time 
when she broke up with him, he had been so calm, no smile, but his lack of reaction had hurt. She 
had been disappointed that he hadn’t tried to make her change her mind. He never tried to force his 
will on her. Why not? Men usually do, one way or another. She thought then that he didn’t care 
enough. But now, she saw it in a different light. Maybe, because he knew how forceful he could be? 
The word ‘enforcer’ came, unbidden, to her mind. She smiled at that. 
     I don’t believe that Julian is involved with the mob, she thought, or maybe he understood that 
if he tried to force me in any way, I’d fight harder. 
     She smiled again, because she suddenly remembered that the only time he had showed any 
hesitation at all was the first time they made love. Well, I had to force you, Julian, she thought. The 
memory made her blush again. She had never imagined that such ecstasy was possible. No stories, 
no books, no films, and certainly nothing in her own experience had prepared her for that! The 
desire felt like physical pain. She screwed her eyes shut and worked hard to banish it. This was not 
the right time. Let him sleep. Tomorrow.... Finally, she slept.
     And in the morning she woke up alone. Last night there had been talk of love and need, and 
now, this disappearing act! 
     "Julian, where are you?" she embarrassed herself by asking aloud. There was a knock and, as 
she turned around, the door opened and a young girl walked in. 
     "Good morning," she said smiling. "Before he left, my uncle asked me to take care of you. I 
waited till I heard the water running in the bathroom. He specifically told me not to wake you or he 
would have me for dinner!" She laughed and continued: "I thought you would never wake up. It’s 
almost eleven, and Uncle Julian was supposed to be at a meeting at eight. He stayed around waiting 
for you to get up, but by nine the phone was ringing continuously, so he gave up and left. He said 
that he would call you at home or at work." She had run out of breath and Caitlin was at last able to 
say something.
     "How was he?" she asked. The girl seemed to give the question serious thought. At last she 
looked up and said:
     "He’ll live." Then she laughed again. "And so will you, from the look of things." She pointed 
to the empty plates on the table. Caitlin had helped herself to a hearty breakfast, but now she stood 
up, looking for her clothes.
     "Did you say it was eleven o’clock?" she said. She was supposed to have been at work two 
hours ago. By now they were probably wondering what she was up to. She looked back at the girl. 
She was so young, probably not yet twenty. Suddenly, something the girl had said came back to 
her.
     "Did you say Uncle Julian?" she asked. The girl smiled again.
     "He is my uncle, really," she said. "I’m Sasha. We’ve never met, but I know who you are. 
That’s why Uncle Julian asked me to look after you. He is so protective of everybody. Sometimes, 
he is worse than both my parents put together were, but I still like it better here than in the country." 
She looked away for a moment, before returning her gaze to Caitlin. The movement was so like 
Julian’s that in Caitlin’s mind, it confirmed Sasha’s statement of being related to him. The smile 
became sly.
     "Why don’t you join me in my room. I’ll get us something cold to drink and tell you all I 
know about my uncle." 
     Caitlin realized that she was being made an offer she could not refuse. This was too good to 
be true. She steeled herself. What would Julian say if she pumped his niece for information about 
him. On the other hand, he had left Sasha in charge. He must have known that this might happen. 
Caitlin decided to ask as little as possible and let the girl talk. 
     "I’ll just call my office and tell them that I’ll come later," she said. "Won’t take a minute." 
     They sat in comfortable chairs in Sasha’s room, sipping iced tea. What Sasha had to tell about 
Julian was not very exciting, but it did add some information to the little heap of knowledge that 
Caitlin already possessed. 
     As it turned out, Sasha had seen her Uncle Julian only a few times during her childhood. All 
she remembered from that time was that her parents and other relatives always showed him great 
respect. He was very kind, quiet-spoken and brought nice presents. He was always well dressed, 
very handsome and extremely polite. By the time Sasha turned sixteen, she had decided that it was 
time to lose her virginity and thought that her well-mannered uncle from the city was the best 
candidate to help with that task. She had made a complete fool of herself when, during one of his 
infrequent visits, she had sneaked into his bedroom. He had put away the bookkeeping papers he 
had been working on and asked what he could do for her. Nervous as she was, she had blurted out 
her proposal and then thrown herself at him and kissed him. He had let her do that: he had even 
responded to her kiss in sheer surprise. But then, he had disengaged himself from her attack on his 
virtue, as he called it later, and made her sit down and listen to him. They had talked for several 
hours that night. He had explained to her that, apart from being too old for her, he was also a 
relative, and incest was a horrendous crime; a crime that he, Julian Luna, would never commit. He 
was quite upset that she could even suggest such a thing. He was even upset about the kiss. She had 
had to apologize to him. When he had calmed down, they talked about sex and love, and he had 
suggested that she should wait until she loved somebody, and really wanted to have sex, before she 
got rid of her virginity. He had promised her that he would never tell anybody about that incident if 
she promised to take care of herself. He had kept his promise better than she had hers.
     Caitlin was deep in thought. How many men were there who would turn away a beautiful, 
sixteen-year-old girl, niece or no niece? Any decent man? But this story only confirmed her image 
of Julian. He was a man of power, no doubt about it, but intimidating women was not part of it. If 
anything, it was the other way around. Caitlin had seen women watching Julian. He was an attractive 
man, and that aura of power and mystique that surrounded him was almost tangible. Usually, he had 
to go out of his way to avoid the hunting ladies. Take Lillie, for instance. No matter how much she 
denied her desire for Julian, her eyes followed his every move. Caitlin had seen that and, being a 
woman, would not be fooled by anything Lillie said. No, this was at least one thing she could be 
absolutely sure of; Julian would not abuse a woman, and that included a young niece. If anything, 
he seemed rather shy. She remembered how nervous he had been when he had brought her that 
telescope as her birthday present. He wanted her so much to like it. And, when they made love, he 
was so much more eager to please than to be pleased. Put together, all those pieces created a picture 
of a very nice person. So why did she find him so dangerous? Why was she so afraid? Of course, 
there was his business, his fortune, his bodyguards, his shady associates, but no matter how much 
she tried, or how objective she set out to be, she could not imagine Julian as some Cosa Nostra 
Mafioso. His past might not be lily white, but he was not a thug like Eddie Fiori had been, although 
he had admitted to knowing Fiori. Caitlin was confused. There were also the pictures of Julian and 
the assassin, a knife in his hand. He had told her that he had been shot and stabbed several times 
but, as far as she had seen, there were no scars on his body. Well, a man as wealthy as Julian could 
afford the surgery necessary to remove scars: he seemed quite particular about his appearance. 
The rest of Sasha’s story did not add very much. She knew that he had spent a lot of time in 
England when he was young. She had come to San Francisco only a few months ago and had fallen 
in love with Cash, Julian’s bodyguard. Uncle Julian accepted it after some initially disapproving 
noises. She was quite happy to be here and Uncle Julian was very generous, although he still made 
noises whenever she stayed out too late. Fortunately, he stayed out late quite often too, so he didn’t 
notice all her absences. 
     At lunchtime Cash arrived and was quite surprised to find Caitlin with Sasha. Caitlin said a 
hasty farewell and left. She decided to go home first and change her clothes before going to work. 
While she drove, she went through the information she had obtained from Sasha. That part about 
England would explain Julian’s old-fashioned manners and his precise speech. She laughed out 
loud recollecting Sasha’s seduction scene and decided to ask Julian about it.
     He will probably be more embarrassed about it than Sasha was, she thought. How could 
that policeman, whatever his name was... oh yes, Kohanek, Frank Kohanek, how could he believe 
that Julian was a dangerous man, telling her to stay away from him! That was preposterous! 
Aw... watch it, Caitlin, she thought to herself, Julian only had to say, "I love you", and you’re ready 
to believe that he is a saint. The truth is that you still don’t know anything of value about him. 
Well, you know that he wouldn’t sleep with his own niece, which in itself puts him among the better 
part of the male population, and that he’s playing an Englishman. That will not be held against 
him, unless he tries that contemptuous ‘my dear’ criticism on me.
     She arrived at work when people were returning from lunch and had to put Julian out of her 
thoughts. She didn’t realize that she had forgotten to ask who had died.


     Julian Luna spent the better part of that day trying to create some order to the mayhem caused 
by Archon’s death. He was an able businessman, but Archon had always been there: to help him 
and to guide him. His affairs among mortals needed to be put in order, but that was not the biggest 
problem. His affairs among Kindred, that would come later. Nevertheless, there were scores of 
executives and lawyers, male and female, who demanded his attention.
     Archon’s will was clear, everything belonged now to Julian, and Archon had left no blood 
relatives who might contest his last will. But after a few hours of reading and signing piles of 
papers he’d had enough. As the afternoon hours crawled slowly past, he found it more and more 
difficult to concentrate. He was tired and thirsty; he had not fed last night, and the hunger for blood 
gnawed at every cell in his body. At last, he decided to call it a day. He called a meeting of the 
Seniors and delegated further tasks to them, silencing their protests. They saw how unwell he 
looked and let him go. 
     He sat back in his car and tried to rest. Under any other circumstances, a missed meal 
wouldn’t affect him that much. But he had been badly injured recently and had used a lot of energy 
in order to heal himself. The emotional turmoil he found himself in worsened his state. The loss of 
Archon, and finding out about his betrayal at the same time - it was more than he could bear. It was 
as if the very foundations of his existence were crumbling. What if everything else in his life were 
as false? He had always believed that he had been doing the right thing, but now, he wasn’t so sure. 
A dull headache reminded him of the violent attacks of migraine that used to plague him during his 
childhood and early adolescence. He needed rest, a good feed and a clear mind in order to deal with 
Archon’s legacy. 
     He put his sad thoughts of Archon aside and conjured up Caitlin’s face in front of his closed
eyes; the way she looked when she said she loved him. Well, he had lied to her too. Not about his 
feelings, though. In fact, the only truthful thing he had told her was that he loved her. But that 
melodramatic statement about breathing air! The fact, the real fact, she would never know was that 
he didn’t need air to be able to breathe. His body was just as capable of extracting the required 
amount of oxygen out of water or soil or anything that contained any oxygen at all. He remembered 
how he used to hide under water, on several occasions, when he was chased by humans and there 
had been no other escape. It had been unpleasant, but not dangerous. But he couldn’t have told 
Caitlin that he needed her like oxygen, or like human blood, now, could he? Apart from being quite 
unromantic, it would have scared her out of her wits. She had been frightened enough in Manzanita. 
He had taken her memories of what had happened there and pushed them into her subconscious, as 
far as he could. It was wrong to do so, he had been scared too, but there was nothing else he could 
do, short of Embracing her or killing her. But there were some mortals who had found out about 
Kindred and lived. Even here, in his own city. Why couldn’t Caitlin know?
     You’re a coward, Julian, he told himself. You don’t want her to know. He remembered how 
she had looked when he had lain injured in the cabin in Manzanita, her face drawn and gray with 
fear and worry. And yet, she had looked at him with love, even after he told her what he was. No 
repugnance, which he had feared most. But what would she feel when she had time to think and sort 
out her feelings? When he was no longer weak and bleeding, no longer in need of her help and 
protection. Would she see him as a monster, as others through the centuries had? He remembered 
the revulsion he himself felt at what he had become during the first months after Archon had 
Embraced him. Another memory came back to him. There had been another human lover some fifty 
years ago, Helene. When she had found out... he didn’t want to think about it. He never wanted to 
live through that sort of nightmare again. She had gone quite mad; called him the most awful 
names. Eventually, he had had to kill her. No, he would never let anything like that happen again. So 
what about Caitlin? The best thing to do, was probably to pretend that he was a somewhat shady 
businessman, with an even shadier past. Let her believe that he was fighting his way out of the 
criminal world, into the sunny, beautiful, legitimate world of human affairs. For her sake he would 
have to reconstruct his own house. Make a home for mortals and separate it from the home of 
Kindred. Make sure that she would never notice his nightly absences. Make sure that she would 
never know. Could he lead that sort of double life? Many humans had, spies, bigamists, and the 
like. He didn’t like to compare himself to spies and bigamists. After all, he was the Prince of San 
Francisco. Would he step down as the Prince for Caitlin’s sake? No! He would not! Especially not 
now, when Archon was gone, and there was no one else to take his place. Oh, Archon, why did it 
have to end this way? Why did you do this to me? So, he was back to Archon. He realized that he 
was ranting and shut everything out of his mind. 
     Julian walked briskly into his house and, shedding his clothes on the way, headed straight for 
his bedroom. Did Caitlin realize that they had spent the night in one of the guestrooms? She 
probably did. He could hardly have brought her down here. A windowless cell with a narrow cot 
and nothing more than a bookshelf and a tiny reading lamp. She would have found it quite odd. 
Before he lay down, he wrote a note to Caitlin that he would call her later that night, and asked a 
servant to send it to her, together with two dozen red roses. But first, he had to rest. Then, when 
darkness enveloped his city, the Prince would go out and feed. He stretched out naked on his cot, 
and within minutes his breathing and his heartbeat slowed down to almost nothing. He slept 
dreamlessly, because Kindred never dream.


     Julian Luna woke up hungry. He didn’t bother to put on any clothes. He went out on the 
terrace and stepped into the garden. When he emerged on the other side of the fence, he had already 
shape-shifted into a wolf. He ran from one backyard to another, jumping effortlessly over fences 
and bushes. The sounds and smells acquired new meanings. A several hours old trail of a hare was 
uninteresting, but the smell of humans who had been sitting in the grass just minutes ago, made him 
stop. He followed that scent until his senses told him that it had been left by playing children. He 
snorted with disgust and turned away. A few fences later, he found what he was looking for: a big 
man was working alone in his garden, in spite of the dark. He was humming to himself, a shovel 
making rhythmic sounds. Julian stopped a few yards behind, throwing up his head, tasting the air 
for the presence of others. But no one else was around. He moved closer, his belly to the ground, 
carefully, quietly. A shovel in a man’s hand could be a formidable weapon. Like a released spring, 
he threw himself at the man’s broad back. The victim lost his balance and fell forward with a 
surprised shriek. Julian’s teeth sank into the sturdy neck before they both hit the ground. At the 
same time he returned to his human form, one hand squeezing the man’s throat, until the victim lost 
consciousness. With his fangs, Julian opened a vein and started to drink the warm blood. When he 
was done, he waited till the wounds closed and made sure that the provider of his meal breathed 
easily before he left. 
     On his way back, he changed again into the wolf. It was easier to get around that way. He ran 
into a cat, a real cat, not a Kindred that had shape-shifted into one, and gave it a chase just for sheer 
fun. The cat escaped up in a tree and hissed cat obscenities at him. A more enticing smell caught his 
interest and he turned towards the house. A leap through an open window and he found himself in a 
woman’s bedroom. She slept alone, a faint odor of alcohol lingering. How much had she drunk? 
Julian was not very fond of alcohol-tainted blood. He was aware that there were other people in the 
house but if somebody came in, well, he would be just another naked man in a woman’s bed. He 
crouched over her and tasted her blood. The amount of alcohol in her was minuscule, and he drank 
freely. Just as he finished, the door opened and a small boy walked in. Julian slid from the bed and 
threw himself out of the window. He was a wolf again before he touched the ground. It was time to 
go home.


     Julian arrived at Caitlin’s home at half past ten. He had called earlier and she had invited him 
to come. But now, she seemed nervous and upset. She slid away when he tried to touch her and 
walked into her living room, talking in a voice that was louder than usual.
     "Please, come in, Mr. Luna." She turned back to him, her eyes pleading with him to play 
along. Julian went past her and was faced by a tall, white-haired man. 
     "This is Mr. Julian Luna, our publisher," said Caitlin, and then turning to Julian, "my father, 
James Byrne."
     They shook hands, mumbling polite phrases. But Caitlin’s father coldly looked down on 
Julian, apparently enjoying the fact that he was several inches taller. Julian took off his coat, handed 
it to Caitlin and sat down in one of the chairs, thus depriving the man of his advantage. There was 
no point in being tall in front of someone who was sitting. James Byrne’s face turned red - he saw 
the insult and knew it was intended. Julian felt his own rush of adrenaline. He was quite ready for a 
fight, and this was the man who had hurt Caitlin. She stood there, Julian’s coat still in her hands, 
looking at them, not knowing what to do. The instant hostility between them hung in the air, like so 
much smoke. At last, Caitlin’s father sat too, and immediately went on the attack:
     "Isn’t it rather late to be visiting one’s employees, Mr. Luna?"
     Julian looked at the small table that had been set for two. He had been expected, the other man 
hadn’t. 
     "A business dinner, as you know news people work at night," he said lightly. "But tell me Mr. 
Byrne, what brings you to our beautiful city?" Julian’s face showed nothing but polite interest.
     "I gave a lecture at a scientific convention," Caitlin’s father said. "Nothing to report about in 
your paper, I’m afraid."
     "On the contrary," Julian was giving him the most charming smile he could produce, "a report 
on the latest progress in radio-astronomy might make the front page. Had I known that my editor’s 
father was one of the speakers, I would have sent her to obtain an interview. Unfortunately, I wasn’t 
informed about the relationship between you two," he almost laughed at the surprised expression on 
her father’s face. "You wonder how I know about it," his voice became cold and hard as steel. "It’s 
simple, I know everything that goes on in this city. There is only one scientific convention in San 
Francisco at the moment and it’s the American Astronomical Society that’s hosting it."
     Byrne swallowed the bait:
     "My, my," he said, "you must have a lot more people working for you, apart from my 
daughter."
     "You’d be surprised," Julian answered, but did not elaborate further. But Caitlin’s father 
prodded for more information:
     "So, beside the publishing business, there are other fields you’re involved in?"
     Julian shrugged slightly at that.
     "Banking, international shipping companies, real estate, medical facilities, you name it."
     "That’s quite an accomplishment, considering that it has been done within one generation," 
Byrne said with mock admiration. 
     "My family has been doing business in California for more than a century and, before that, 
they lived in New Orleans." Julian’s voice became cold again. "I really don’t know when my 
ancestors first arrived in America. Apparently, they escaped the persecution of the Huguenots in 
France in the 17th century."
     The old man was taken aback.
     "I’m sorry," he said. "I thought that I detected a trace of foreign accent. That’s why I 
assumed..." He was backing off.
     "Oh, that must have been all those years I spent in England," Julian’s smile was pure amity 
again, "although I wouldn’t consider a British accent foreign, would you?" Julian was well aware of 
the WASP’s fascination with everything British, some stupid inferiority complex, as far as he 
understood it. Still, under some circumstances, it could be used to his advantage. 
     Caitlin’s father was quiet for a few seconds and then tried another approach.
     "I’m surprised," he mused, "that with all those different tasks that occupy you, you still have 
time for nightly business meetings with my daughter. He pronounced the word business as if he 
meant something else entirely. This was a direct attack. Caitlin, who had been sitting apart from 
them, quiet as a mouse, almost fainted now. She looked at Julian pleadingly, her hands closing into 
fists. This was almost more than she could bear. Her father had turned up on her doorstep 
unannounced, after God knows how many years, and started questioning her about her private life, 
as if she were still a teenager living in his house. Apparently, rumors of her association with Julian 
had reached him somehow.
     But Julian rose to the challenge. He stood up, and now it was his turn to look down at the 
older man.
     "You underestimate your daughter’s importance, Professor Byrne," he said. "Caitlin is my 
editor, and therefore my sole contact with the reading population of San Francisco. Public opinion 
is quite important for a man in my position." James Byrne tried to say something, but Julian 
wouldn’t let him. "Besides, I love her." He made a helpless gesture and stared defiantly at the 
sputtering man.
     "I’ll... I’ll..."
     "Mr. Byrne, please, don’t say anything you might regret later. Frankly, you have nothing to 
threaten me with and, what’s more important, you have nothing to threaten Caitlin with, either. So I 
suggest that we end this unpleasant conversation and my driver will take you to your hotel."
He led the stupefied man out while Caitlin watched with her mouth hanging open. She had never 
seen her father so intimidated in her whole life. It was... well, it was unbelievable!
     When Julian returned to the sitting room, he found Caitlin curled up in her chair, her face 
hidden in her hands, her body shaking. He looked at her, not knowing what to do. This was just 
great! A woman’s tears had always rendered him quite helpless. He just didn’t know how to deal 
with the situation. He immediately regretted that he allowed himself to get angry with Caitlin’s 
father and cursed his famous temper.
     "Caitlin," he knelt beside her chair and hugged her, "Caitlin, I’m sorry, please don’t cry. Look, 
I’ll go to him tomorrow and apologize."
     At that, she lifted her face and he saw that she hadn’t been crying, but laughing. 
     "Don’t you dare!" Her laughter almost choked her. "Don’t you dare! That old goat got what 
he deserved! All my life he has been sitting on me. It’s about time that someone sat on him. It was 
wonderful, Julian. If this is how you conduct your business, no wonder you’re so successful. I just 
hope that you’ll never get so angry with me." She couldn’t stop laughing. 
     "I’ll never get angry with you," he whispered in her hair. "Never!" A funny thought surfaced 
in his mind, I should have bitten her ‘old goat’. But he stopped himself right there. Personal 
vendetta was what destroyed Archon. Besides, the man was still Caitlin’s father. 
     "You know what I think?" he said aloud. "I think, we should run a story on this astronomy 
meeting of his. Let him know that we hold no grudge."
     "That would be quite grand," she answered. "Let him know that you don’t kick a fallen 
adversary. Besides, how did you know about his being an astronomer? Have you investigated my 
past?" A note of suspicion had crept into her voice. He let go of her and raised both his hands in a 
gesture of surrender.
     "Peace, I have done no such thing. You know that astronomy is a hobby of mine. I have read 
several of his papers. Your name isn’t exactly rare, so I didn’t put you two together until you 
introduced him to me. And knowing about that astronomy convention being held in San Francisco, 
it all fell instantly into place. That’s how I could stun him with my knowledge about his profession, 
as well as his title. And it worked to his disadvantage. I knew at least that much about him, while he 
knew nothing about me and all his assumptions were wrong. But enough about your father. Wasn’t 
there a bottle of wine I spied on the table? How about some?"
     They drank the wine, and ate a little. Caitlin had lost her appetite, and Julian had no real need 
for human food. Caitlin got a little tipsy. She tried to question him about his stay in England, but 
his answers were evasive. She decided that it was because of Lillie and gave up lest her jealousy 
would show. Instead, she told him about her conversation with Sasha. As she expected, he became 
quite embarrassed and told her that he was still ashamed about his niece’s behavior. She was a wild 
thing and nobody could control her. He hoped that Cash would have some positive influence on 
her. There was a sad note in his voice when he talked about her, as if he were talking about a lost 
cause. Caitlin didn’t understand that. The girl seemed so nice and cheerful. It was past midnight 
when Julian decided it was time for him to leave. Caitlin showed her disappointment.
     "Aren’t you going to stay with me tonight?" she asked in a small voice. Julian smiled at her.
     "I’m not in a habit of taking advantage of intoxicated ladies," he said and then remembered the 
one he had taken advantage of earlier that night. He looked away, acutely aware of the lie he was 
living. Caitlin, of course, misunderstood his reluctance.
     "Oh, Julian, you’re being a prude," she crooned, putting her arms around his neck and kissing 
him. He took hold of her, meaning to stop her, but his hands slid around her body as she pressed 
herself closer to him. Drunk or not, her desire for him bound him to her. He lifted her, and carried 
her to the bed. He might have been able to say no to himself, but there was no way he could say no 
to her. He whispered her name hoarsely as her roving hands removed his clothes. When their naked 
bodies came together, Julian forgot about the fighting clans, about Archon, and the whole mess of 
Kindred affairs. 


     A sort of truce formed between Caitlin and Julian over the next few weeks. He’d search her 
out every few days, either at work or at home. It was quite obvious that he needed her company, but 
when they were together, he seemed distant, his mind on other things. When she had asked him 
outright, he had admitted to losing a close friend while they were in Manzanita but would say no 
more about it. As time went by, instead of getting over it, he became more and more morose. He’d 
take her out to very expensive restaurants for a late dinner, order lavishly for her but only a salad or 
desert for himself. While she stuffed herself, complaining about getting fat, Julian just played with 
whatever was on his plate, hardly eating anything. At last he told her that he wasn’t used to eating 
solid food that late and stopped ordering anything for himself but wine. Caitlin thought about other 
meals they had shared and it struck her that he’d always eaten very little. She prodded him about it 
and he told her that he had been forced to eat when he was a child, often getting sick afterwards. He 
didn’t like meat. Come to think about it, he didn’t like anything too much. He ate only because he 
had to. 
     "I’m sorry to hear that," she said. "You’re missing a lot."
     "There are other pleasures," he answered, taking her hand and kissing it. The smile he gave her 
made her blush. He continued drinking his wine, but it didn’t worry her. He had never shown the 
slightest sign of getting drunk.
     Caitlin tried her best to cheer him up, telling him what was going on in the publishing 
business, joking and gossiping. Sooner or later he’d start paying attention. He would go with her 
wherever she wanted, escorting her to theaters, concerts, or the opera. He even accepted the cinema, 
although he obviously disliked it. But when they went to see some bloodthirsty horror film, he said 
that he felt unwell, and they had to leave in the middle. He was pale and shaken, and Caitlin secretly 
suspected that he couldn’t stand the sight of blood. She had taken him to her home and made him lie 
down. It was hours before he calmed down. On another occasion he refused to go with her to the 
Zoo, saying that watching caged animals wasn’t his idea of fun. Finding out such soft spots in him 
became a game for Caitlin. He wouldn’t tell her anything, so Caitlin became an expert observer. She 
pounced on every piece of information that he let her glimpse, collecting those scraps in a pile of 
knowledge the way a miser collects his wealth. Just by watching Julian, she found out that he was 
rather awkward around children, that pets didn’t like him, that men feared him, and that women 
found him fascinating. Being in his company made her feel secure. He had once impressed her by 
staring down a not very sober man in a cowboy hat who had tried to ask her to dance. The man had 
been very insistent, taking her arm after she had said no and trying to get her off her chair. She had 
looked desperately around for Julian, who had left her alone at their table for a few minutes. In a 
moment he was at her side, his hand on the cowboy’s shoulder, saying:
     "The lady said no!"
     Caitlin was afraid that there would be a brawl. The cowboy was half a head taller than Julian, 
and looked twice as big. But to her surprise, the two men only stared at each other for a few 
seconds and then the cowboy hat backed off, his hand massaging the shoulder that Julian had taken 
hold of. 
     From that moment on, she watched his every move carefully. She soon found out that he was 
extremely strong. It wasn’t the fact that he was able to pick her up and carry her around easily. 
According to Caitlin, any man should be able to pick up a woman without visible strain. But once, 
Julian had brought a bottle of very expensive French champagne to her home. He had opened it, 
and they had drunk a glass each. One thing led to another and they had soon forgotten about the 
open bottle, but after a few minutes Caitlin had said something about their champagne losing its 
bubbles. Julian had then picked up the cork, and pushed it back into the bottle, quite casually. 
     "You’re showing off," she had said, and he’d looked at her with a frown, obviously not 
knowing what she meant. She took the bottle and tried to remove the cork again, but didn’t succeed. 
     "Am I not supposed to be physically stronger than you?" he asked. 
     "You are stronger than anyone I have ever seen," Caitlin replied. "But don’t worry, I won’t 
hold it against you," she laughed, trying to make light of it because of the look of dismay on his 
face.
     "I... I know several people who are stronger than I am," he protested lamely, not looking at 
her.
     "And who might that be, Mr. Spock?" Caitlin retorted. He fell silent and looked so bewildered 
that she gave up baiting him and demanded more of the champagne. 
     He was very gentle that night, as if he were afraid that he might harm her somehow, and Caitlin 
promised herself that she would keep her mouth shut in the future. But later that night, when Julian 
was fast asleep, she did something that she had never done before. She removed the covers from 
him and looked him carefully over, from head to toe. She didn’t find anything suspicious, however. 
He was beautiful, well built, but no more so than any well trained man might be. His skin was 
unblemished and there were no scars. She looked at him for a long time, thinking this is Nature’s 
way of saying - I know how to do a good job with what I’ve got. He moved restlessly, as if he were 
feeling cold, and she covered him again. From that time on, Caitlin noticed that Julian had become 
very careful about his behavior in her presence. Only once, in her office, did she see him catch a 
heavy shelf that somebody had overloaded, preventing it from toppling over. She pretended not to 
notice when Julian looked at her apprehensively, after steadying it. 


     Julian Luna realized that his mind was running around in circles. There was no way he would 
work it out by himself. He needed help, and now, with Archon gone, there was only one person he 
could confide in. But the basement of the gatehouse was deserted. He walked around, admiring 
Daedalus’ paintings and then sat down, determined to wait for his friend. He closed his eyes and 
his thoughts started to race again.
     Archon’s death was a blow that was difficult to put behind him, but the reasons for his 
destruction were even worse. He, Julian, had always believed his Sire to be a just master. Archon 
could be harsh at times, but that convinced Julian even more. Archon could, of course, make 
mistakes, but what he had done wasn’t a mistake. It was an outright crime! Archon was no longer 
the father figure that Julian had always admired and respected. So, if Archon was bad, what was he? 
Did he differ in any way from Eddie Fiori or Cameron? That night, that terrible night, he had almost 
ripped Cameron’s throat out without asking for reasons. If Daedalus hadn’t stopped him... 
     Well, Caitlin, his thoughts jumped in another direction, there’s one who is stronger than I 
am. On the other hand, the Nosferatu Primogen is no more human than I am. 
     He was acutely aware of Caitlin’s watchful eyes. How long, before he would make a fatal 
mistake in her presence. His skills at pretending to be a mortal were formidable. After all, he was a 
Ventrue. He could make his heart beat at the right rate, his breathing and body heat normal. He 
could hide his strength and other powers, he could pretend to eat. What else was there? Maybe he 
should invent some human weakness like smoking or biting his nails. No, that would be ridiculous. 
It was fortunate that she couldn’t know what was going on inside him, that she couldn’t watch him 
when they made love, that she couldn’t feel the ferocity that overwhelmed him, together with the 
passion, when he would bite the pillow instead of biting her. Once, he had got hold of a mouthful of 
her hair and bit it off. Luckily, she hadn’t noticed. The women had always been there. Before 
Archon embraced him, there had only been his wife, and Eve, of course, but afterwards... He had 
discovered the double pleasure of seducing them and then feeding from them. Sometimes 
simultaneously. Archon had been displeased.
     "If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you had Toreador blood in you," he would say. "If 
you’re not cautious, some day a lady will be your downfall." 
     Eventually, he had been proven right. That young beauty from a wealthy Boston family. Was 
it really more than a hundred years ago? A servant had seen them in her bedroom. There was a 
scandal and that stupid brother of hers had challenged him to a duel. Archon had been furious, 
accusing Julian of endangering the Masquerade and banished him from San Francisco.
 
     Officially, Julian Luna had died in that duel and had been whisked away to England. There, he 
had met Lillie. Lillie, who had taught him what it meant to be a Toreador; Lillie, who had taught him 
what Kindred could be to each other. When he was allowed to return, decades later, Lillie Langtry 
followed him to America. And now, Lillie was becoming a burden. Julian was aware of the threat a 
woman’s jealousy could be, but he had never imagined that Lillie would do anything to endanger 
the Masquerade. She posed a danger to him and to Caitlin. Was Archon’s prophecy about to repeat 
itself?
     Suddenly, he became aware of another presence in the room and snapped his eyes open.      
Daedalus was standing in front of him, a worried expression on his face. 
     "Julian, what’s wrong?" he asked.
     "Nothing is wrong, yet." And then, "everything!"
     Daedalus pulled up a chair and sat down facing him. 
     "How can I help you, my Prince?" he asked. Daedalus was never the one to beat around the 
bush. 
     "I don’t know if you can help me. I don’t know if there is any help for me at all." Julian 
sounded tired and depressed. "Archon has betrayed me, and I can’t even ask him why; Cameron 
wants me dead, and the Gangrels and the Brujahs are constantly at each other’s throats, creating a 
danger to the Masquerade; my own niece has been Embraced against my wish, and I have reason to 
believe that Lillie has tried to get rid of both Caitlin and me. Tell me Daedalus, have I outlived my 
use as the Prince of the City? Should I step down?"
     "And who would take your place?" Daedalus demanded. "If you leave, the Clans will tear each 
other to pieces fighting over your position. It might very well be the end of us all!" 
     "You could take over, Daedalus," Julian answered. "You’re wise, and they respect you." 
     Daedalus stared at him in disbelief.
     "Are you mad!?" he exclaimed. "Even if I coveted that position, which I don’t, the Clans 
would never accept a Nosferatu as their Prince. If you really want to step down, then you must 
prepare. You must find a Kindred who may succeed you in the future. Preferably a Ventrue. You 
must find someone who will prove himself worthy of becoming a Prince. You can’t do it now, and 
you can’t do it in the near future. It takes decades."
     "I was afraid that you would say that," Julian responded, "but it doesn’t help me right now. I 
just don’t seem to be able to handle everything anymore. If Archon hadn’t... And Caitlin, you 
know, we almost died in Manzanita."
     Daedalus looked at his discouraged friend. For the first time he felt fear creep inside him. The 
Nosferatu do not scare easily. 
     "You really love that mortal women?" he asked. Julian sighed heavily.
     "I do," he said. "I don’t think that I could bear losing her."
     "Well then," Daedalus stood up, "I think the time has come for me to tell you what you should 
do. First, you must get your priorities right." 
     Julian looked up, surprised by the sudden change in his friend’s voice. Daedalus regarded 
him sternly. The countless ages of Nosferatu authority were suddenly quite visible. 
     "To start with," Daedalus was saying, "forget Archon! He was just another Kindred and as 
fallible as any of us. What’s done is done and can not be changed. I know that you loved him, but 
you must let him rest. Whatever wrong he has done, the fact is that, together with you, he brought 
peace and prosperity to the Kindred of this City. You must fight to keep it. Next, separate the 
Gangrels and the Brujahs. There is enough to occupy both Clans without their getting into each 
other’s way. Keep Cameron under surveillance; use Sasha if necessary." He shook his head at 
Julian’s gesture of protest. "She’s a Brujah now, but she will always be loyal to you. What has 
happened to her saddens me as much as it does you, but take advantage of it. Remember, 
Machiavelli was a Ventrue too. Call a meeting of the Primogens tonight. Let your will be known. 
Demand order and keep them busy. Cameron will probably try to kill you when he sees that you’re 
getting on top of things. Let him come close, but be careful - he’s much more dangerous than Eddie 
ever was. When he makes his move, you’ll be able to hit him so hard that it will take him years to 
pull himself together." He bowed forward, taking hold of Julian’s arms. "But you must act now!" 
he said with emphasis. "Don’t wait until it’s too late." 
     Julian smiled at his friend. He no longer felt helpless. With the Nosferatu Primogen at his 
side, he knew he was invincible.
     "You’d make a great Prince, Daedalus," he said. "I’ll do exactly as you have advised me." But 
he didn’t move yet, his mind still occupied by something else. Daedalus folded his arms across his 
chest, frowning.
     "Well, what are you waiting for?" he inquired. "Let’s call the meeting."
     Julian raised a hand.
     "Just a moment," he said laughing. "You’re so good at this, why don’t you advise me more. 
What should I do about Caitlin? And Lillie, what about her?"
     Daedalus let out an exasperate sigh.
     "I’m hardly the right person to give advice on matters of the heart," he said with disdain. "I 
suggest that you consult an appropriate column in that paper you’re publishing."
     That made Julian laugh out loud.
     "Daedalus, I’m quite serious!" he said. "I might not take your advice, but I certainly want to 
hear it."
     Daedalus’ features softened. Julian had always had a way of getting into trouble with women. 
With his good looks, it was no surprise.
     "Frankly, Julian," Daedalus decided to keep it light, in spite of the Prince’s eager expression,      
"you’ve had more experience with women in your hundred odd years of being Kindred than I’ve 
had during my centuries. Women equal trouble, whether they are Kindred or human." 
     "I didn’t know that you disliked women, Daedalus," Julian mused quietly.
     "I don’t dislike them," Daedalus answered. He felt uncomfortable with this part of their 
conversation. "I just don’t trust them. Whatever you do," he continued, "just make sure that you 
don’t expose the Masquerade through your association with that reporter woman."
     "Her name is Caitlin," Julian retorted, somewhat hurt by Daedalus’ attitude, "and she is very 
important to me."
     "In that case, I think you should make sure that she is protected; that you do everything you 
can to keep her happy and unsuspecting, and get Lillie as far away from both of you as you can."
     "Why? Do you think that Lillie will do something stupid again?"
     "Julian!" Daedalus was showing impatience, "you need to reread your Shakespeare." He 
shrugged at Julian’s blank stare. "You know, the play about the fury of the woman scorned."
     Well, so much for that advice, Julian thought. But if Daedalus was right, and he usually was, 
Lillie would have to go. It pained him because he didn’t want to hurt Lillie, but flaunting his liaison 
with Caitlin in front of Lillie was cruel enough. He remembered how awful it felt when Alexandra 
took up with Frank Kohanek. Yes, Daedalus was quite right in this as in other matters: get rid of 
Lillie, and protect Caitlin. Right now, he couldn’t manage much more. He pushed all thoughts of 
Caitlin into the back of his mind and returned his attention to Daedalus.
     "You’re quite right," he said. "But let’s forget about the ladies for the moment. We have a 
meeting to organize." He got up and walked briskly towards the main house, his back straight, his 
movements full of energy. Daedalus followed him, smiling to himself. 
     That’s my Prince, he thought with exhilaration. 


     Caitlin gave up trying to get some sleep when it was long past midnight; she was too worried 
and too upset. Also, she abhorred sleeping pills. She got up, showered quickly, put on a dress and 
ran to her car. It was rather quiet in the city; she could only hear police sirens wailing in the 
distance. She had already started the engine when the phone in her home began to ring. She parked 
her car as close to Julian’s home as she could and walked the rest of the way. There were several 
cars outside the gate, two of them police cars. She stopped, unsure of what to do next. Some men 
were standing there, talking. She would never get past those guards! Well, the least she could do 
was to try. She walked resolutely towards them and, to her relief, recognized one of them. It was 
Cash, Sasha’s boyfriend. Caitlin called out his name, but before he turned towards her, she felt her 
arm grabbed from behind. 
     "I wouldn’t go in there if I were you," a man’s voice hissed in her ear. She turned around and 
saw that it was the policeman she had met before - Frank Kohanek. 
     "It’s not safe to be near Julian Luna nowadays," he continued. "You could get hurt."
     Before she could react, she felt somebody taking hold of her other arm. It was Cash. 
     "Ms. Byrne, please come with me. I’ll take you inside," he said. The two men faced each 
other. After a moment, to Caitlin’s surprise, the policeman let go of her and backed off from the 
younger and smaller Cash. She was led past the other guards and into Julian’s home. An elderly 
man ushered her into a library, and she was left alone without any explanation. At least she was 
inside! She looked at her watch - it was two o’clock in the morning. She shivered. Has it really 
been six hours? Six hours, since her world came crashing down around her. 
     She had casually turned on the tiny TV-set that sat on a shelf in her office to watch the eight 
o’clock news. There had been a reporter standing in front of a big building in the city, babbling 
something about an explosion. She hadn’t paid much attention, but had started thinking about 
sending somebody out there, to cover the story. Several people had been injured, maybe even killed. 
There was a lot of smoke welling out of the partly demolished building. Policemen and fire-workers 
milled around. Caitlin was just about to turn away in order to find somebody to send to the scene 
when the reporter mentioned Julian’s name. 
     "Mr. Julian Luna, the co-owner of the bank," he was saying, "had been stabbed or shot by at 
least one assailant. Several witnesses had seen him being whisked away by his aides, covered in 
blood. The ambulance people who had tried to take care of him had been sent away and he had been 
driven to his home." 
     The image faded away, and when it returned Caitlin recognized the street outside Julian’s 
mansion. Another reporter was standing in front of the camera talking in a breathless manner.
     "... A lot of people have come and gone since the injured businessman, one of the owners of 
the devastated bank, was brought back to his home some forty minutes ago. Ominously, no doctor 
has been called. The police have tried to get inside, but they have been told that they will be 
contacted when Mr. Luna is ready..." 
     Caitlin realized that she was holding her breath; somehow her heart was blocking her throat. 
Slowly, she returned to her desk and picked up the phone. She dialed very carefully, her fingers 
trembling. The line was busy. She waited five minutes, which felt like an eternity, and tried again. 
Still busy. For the next hour and a half she tried to call Julian every few minutes. She became 
numb, convinced that Julian had been killed. Several people walked into her office during that time 
and tried to talk to her, but gave up and left when they saw her face. At last the line was free. The 
phone was picked up momentarily and a man’s voice said:
      "This is the Luna residence. No interviews will be granted... "
     Caitlin didn’t allow him continue.
     "It’s Caitlin Byrne," she said. "Please, I just want to know if he is all right."
     There was silence, and when she was almost sure that she would not get any answer, the voice 
continued.
     "Julian will be fine. He will contact you as soon as possible." Another silence. "He will call 
you. Please, be careful." The phone went dead. Caitlin stared at the phone for a few seconds and 
then stood up. She picked up her purse and coat and walked out of the office. Outside her door, all 
her co-workers were standing in a semi-circle. 
     They’ve gathered here like so many vultures, she thought, but Julian is alive! At the same 
time, he’s as much their boss as mine. They want to know.
     She squared her shoulders and looked straight at them.
     "I was told that he is all right," she told them. "Will somebody get out there and find out what 
has happened? I’m going home." She left hurriedly, not wanting them to see her cry. 
     She sat in her car, her vision blurred by tears. But they were tears of relief. 
     She picked up her phone several times during the evening, making sure that it worked. Every 
time it rang, she jumped. It was the paper, one of her friends; even the police called. To them she 
said that she knew nothing. But no call from Julian. As the hours crept by, she became more and 
more scared. What if that man had lied to her? What if Julian were badly hurt? Or dead? What was 
it that reporter on TV had said? No doctor had been called! For all she knew, Julian could have a 
physician of his own in that enormous house of his. For all she knew, he could be dead. The dead 
don’t need doctors! She was driving herself mad, thinking like that. It was past midnight when she 
tried to call again, but the line was busy. 
     And now she sat here, in this beautiful library that smelled of leather and old books. She was 
in his house but she still didn’t know if she would ever see her lover again. Suddenly she heard 
steps outside the door. As the door opened she heard Julian’s angry voice.
     "... No hunt will be declared without my agreement! I want to know who sent that stupid 
human after me! And make sure you find Caitlin!" He came in and stopped, staring at her.
     "I didn’t know I was lost," Caitlin said, taken aback by his anger and cold stare. "I tried to call 
you, but I couldn’t get through. I just wanted to find out..." She started crying unexpectedly, and 
turned away to hide it. In a few strides Julian came to her and took her in his arms.
     "Caitlin," his voice was tender, the anger gone, "I called you just half an hour ago. There was 
no answer and I was afraid that something had happened to you. That someone had harmed you in 
order to get at me."
     But Caitlin’s relief at seeing him alive and well was so great that it was her turn to get angry.
     "I thought you were dead," she sobbed, hitting his chest with both fists. "I thought you were 
dead!"
     He held her tight, preventing her from hitting him again. After a moment, when she was a little 
calmer, he took her face in both his hands and kissed her.
     "I am quite all right," he whispered. Then he lifted her and carried her out of the library. The 
room he took her into was only lit by the flames in the fireplace. She had thought before that it was 
odd that there were fires blazing away in almost every room in his home. He had once told her that 
he detested being cold. She had then commented that she didn’t find San Francisco a very cold city. 
He had laughed at that and mumbled something about his very low blood pressure. When she 
continued making jokes about his not having to worry about heart disease or strokes, he had 
avoided the issue. Maybe there was something wrong with his circulatory system? But now she was 
grateful for the fire. It made her feel cozy and secure.
     Nevertheless, she continued to sniffle a bit, just to make her point. Julian placed her on the bed 
and lay down with her, holding her, trying to comfort her, kissing her. After some time she gathered 
her wits and started questioning him about what had happened. But he didn’t tell her much more 
than she had already heard on the news. There had been an explosion that caused a lot of damage. 
There had been injuries and deaths. Somebody had attacked him with a knife. No, he was not hurt. 
He protested feebly when she started taking off his clothes. Caitlin quieted him with kisses and 
caresses. There was a bandage around his left elbow and upper arm. When she tried to ask him 
about it, it was his turn to silence her with kisses. In a few moments she forgot about bandages and 
explosions. The way he made love to her this time was more urgent and violent than it had ever been 
before. His skin felt hotter than usual, and his eyes seemed to glow in the dark. He sent her body 
into an ecstasy that she found difficult to bear. In the final moment, she clung to him and bit the 
side of his neck. She heard him gasp, and it frightened her because he had never made a sound 
during their lovemaking before. 
     "Oh, Julian, I’m sorry." She was trying to catch her breath. "I didn’t mean to hurt you!"
     He’d stopped moving and looked at her with shining eyes.
     "It’s all right, Caitlin." His husky voice was barely audible. "It’s all right," he repeated. "I 
enjoyed that." 
     Then he pressed her down, immobilized her hands by holding both her wrists above her head, 
his other hand beneath her lower back, raising her body towards his every thrust. It hurt, but it was 
also deliciously stimulating. His breathing became more and more uneven and labored until it 
stopped for a few moments, and his body started to shudder spasmodically. It was then that Caitlin 
felt his teeth sink into her shoulder. She cried out, but he didn’t let go until she said that he was 
hurting her. He released her hands then, but was still weighing her down with his body. Covering 
her wounded shoulder with his hand, he pressed his forehead against it.
     "You’re mine!" he said with emphasis. "Now, you’re mine!" 
     Caitlin was too tired to dispute that. At this very moment, she felt very much his. 


     In the morning, she looked at her shoulder and, to her surprise, found no trace of the bite she 
had received from Julian. There were other bruises and marks on her body that witnessed about 
what had transpired during the night, but there was no mark on her shoulder. It didn’t hurt either. 
She turned to Julian. Well, at least this time, he was still there. He was asleep; his face down, his left 
arm stretched in her direction. For a few seconds she admired his beautifully muscled back and 
arms. Then it hit her. Somehow, the bandage had come off during the night. There was no scar, no 
wound on his arm. Neither was there any trace left of her bite on his neck. 
     Am I going mad? she asked herself. Either that, or something is seriously wrong with my 
memory. She did not allow the thought that something might be ‘seriously wrong’ with Julian to 
surface. 
     There was a shy knock on the door and Julian was instantly awake. He slid out of bed and, 
putting on a robe, padded to the door. Whoever was outside was not let in. Julian went out instead. 
He returned after a few minutes and sat on Caitlin’s side of the bed. 
     "I must go," he said. "I want you to stay in my house for the time being." 
     Before she could start to protest, he continued:
     "That is, when you’re not at work. It would be one thing less for me to worry about. Please, 
don’t get me wrong, Caitlin, but I’m afraid that there will be a war in this city. I’m one of the 
intended victims and I don’t want you to be caught in the middle. Your association with me makes 
you another target." 
     He touched her shoulder lightly, right on the spot were he had bitten her. 
     "I’m sorry I hurt you. It won’t happen again." His smile was apologetic. "I got carried away. 
I’ll control myself better in the future." 
     So, she had not dreamed or imagined things. She looked at the white, unmarred skin. 
     "It mustn’t have been so serious: see, there is no mark left. Speaking of marks, what happened 
to your arm? There is no mark there either. I thought you had been stabbed..." Her voice trailed off. 
"The reporter on TV talked about your being covered in blood."
     "Oh, no!" Julian exclaimed. "It wasn’t my blood. My elbow just got twisted out of joint." He 
raised his left arm. "Now, even the swelling is gone. I had the bandage put on to stabilize it. It was 
rather painful." He smiled as she bowed forward and kissed that elbow. 
     "It didn’t stop you from being a rather ardent lover last night," she mused.
     "When I’m with you, I tend to forget all pains." He drew her closer. Caitlin rested her head on 
his chest, and rejoiced in his slow caresses. But just as his hands came to rest on her breasts there 
was another knock on the door and his hands moved away.
     "Will you stay?" he asked simply. She nodded her head.
     "Be careful about what you ask for. You might get it!" she answered. He gave her another hug 
and left. 
     When Caitlin was ready to go to work, she found that her car had been removed and a big, 
dark, European thing was awaiting her, complete with an uniformed driver. It was a young, very fair 
man with an incongruous Spanish accent. With a disarming smile, the young man presented 
himself as Arthur and told her that Mr. Luna had instructed him to be Caitlin’s driver, aide and 
bodyguard. When she protested, saying that she had no need of a bodyguard, he responded plainly 
enough:
     "I’m responsible for your safety. With my life. My Sir… er... Mr. Luna said, it’s your hide or mine."
     "Did he tell you to inform me about it?" she asked.
     "He said that if you knew how serious he was, you would be nice to me, not trying to get rid 
of me or run off." 
     It shocked Caitlin into silence. Certainly, Julian knew her well enough by now. He understood 
that she would hate being watched, but also that she was too kind-hearted to let the poor guard get 
into trouble because of her. 
     You are a manipulating bastard, Julian Luna, she thought, and decided to let him know what 
she felt about the whole business. For now, she would comply. A few heads turned when she got 
out of the expensive-looking car outside her office building. Arthur gave her the number of the car 
phone and told her that she only had to call him and he would be waiting outside the entrance at a 
moment’s notice. 
     When she came inside, all conversation stopped and all eyes turned expectantly in her 
direction. She couldn’t help blushing. 
     "Caitlin, what’s happened?" She was barraged with questions. "Is Mr. Luna all right?"
     "He is unharmed," she told them. "As for what has happened, you probably know more about 
it than I do." 
     The relief on their faces warmed her heart. As it turned out, nobody knew much more either. 
The police didn’t have a clue. Nobody knew who had planted the bomb in the bank. The city had 
been unusually peaceful during the night. The person who had attacked Julian Luna with a knife 
was still a John Doe; his throat had been torn open and he had bled to death. It hadn’t been done 
with his own knife and no other weapon had been found. Their contact at the forensic lab had said 
that they had never seen anything like it. It looked as if somebody or something had taken hold of 
the assassin-to-be and ripped his throat out. Also, there had been a lot of heroin in his body. 
     "Why would a drug abuser attack Julian?" Caitlin asked her staff. "One thing I’m sure of is 
that Julian Luna doesn’t stand on the street corner, peddling drugs."
     "Eddie Fiori," somebody said, "wasn’t he involved in drug trafficking?"
     "Eddie Fiori is missing, if not missed by many, but somebody might have got mad
when the source dried up. Somebody might have believed that Julian Luna was responsible for 
Fiori’s disappearance," was another suggestion. "Word on the street has it that Eddie was no longer 
protected, and it might have been Mr. Luna’s protection that had been withdrawn." 
     "It’s pure speculation," Caitlin defended her lover vehemently. "I want more than rumors and 
hearsay." 
     They looked at her silently, and suddenly she realized that she no longer had their trust. It hurt, 
but she would be damned if she would let them press her into something against her judgment. But 
she had to be honest with herself.
     How good is your judgment when it comes to Julian Luna? she asked herself.
     There was a knock on her door and Frank Kohanek came in.
     "May I have a word with you, Miss Byrne?" he asked. Caitlin braced herself inwardly. For 
some reason the policeman hated Julian, and it scared her. 
     "You saw Julian Luna last night." It was a statement, not a question. Caitlin nodded. There was 
no point in denying that. 
     "And he was all right?" Kohanek continued. She nodded again. "Are you quite sure?"
     "He said, that his arm had been twisted, but other than that..." Caitlin didn’t understand what 
the man was driving at. 
     "Are you absolutely sure? Did you see it?" He sounded very upset. 
     "Yes, I saw it!" Caitlin exclaimed. "And no, there was nothing wrong with it!"
     "We have three witnesses," the policeman’s voice had become calm, "three witnesses who saw 
the assailant stab Mr. Luna in the left arm, just here." His finger jabbed at her arm, just an inch 
above the elbow. "A big, ugly cut; he was bleeding profusely." 
     Caitlin stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly, an image flashed in her mind. Julian bleeding 
from several wounds and then, miraculously healed, no traces on his body of the injuries he had 
received. She shook her head. 
     This isn’t happening, she thought, or I’m going mad.
     "You’re mistaken," she said quietly. "There was nothing wrong with Julian last night, however 
he told me that somebody had been hurt and bled all over him." She looked at Kohanek pleadingly. 
But the man was relentless. He shoved a photo in front of her saying:
     "This is what was left of the alleged assailant on Mr. Luna’s life." 
     Caitlin looked at the gory picture, what she saw made her feel sick. The head of the dead man was 
thrown back, his throat in shreds. 
     "What happened to him?" she asked.
     "Your guess is as good as mine," Frank Kohanek said. "I suggest, you ask Luna. He refuses 
to speak to us." He left the photo on Caitlin’s desk as he stood up. "It’s possible that he killed that 
man in self-defense, but wouldn’t you like to know how he did it?"
 

     Caitlin sat staring at the terrifying picture for a long time. Her professional curiosity overcame 
her nausea. What could inflict such a dreadful injury? A ferocious animal could have done that. It 
made her think of inhuman strength and fury. Suddenly, she felt very cold. Julian was almost 
inhumanely strong. 
     It was difficult to concentrate on anything during the rest of the day. In her mind she went 
through everything she knew about Julian Luna. It was pitifully little. Could he have ripped a man’s 
throat out in a fit of rage? No! He was kind and gentle. She looked at her aching wrists. Dark 
bruises had formed there; the skin was abraded in several places. Kind and gentle? She hid her face 
in her hands acutely aware that there had been nothing gentle about Julian last night. He had hurt 
her, she still hurt inside, and she had been bleeding in the morning. Her period wasn’t due for 
another week. No! No! She had read somewhere that men could become unusually passionate 
when their life was in danger. 
     Oh God, am I making excuses for him? she asked herself. 
     She decided to confront him that very evening, but as the time passed by, she was more and 
more apprehensive, delaying departure until it was quite late. At last she called the number Arthur 
had given her and asked him to come for her. The car was standing outside the building, its engine 
running, when she came out. She went home first, Arthur helped her pack and then drove her to the 
mansion. She didn’t see Julian that night. After she had eaten all alone in the big dining room, she 
waited for him, first in the library, then in her bedroom. She woke up alone the next morning, 
relieved and angry at the same time. For two days there was complete silence in the Luna mansion 
as well as in the city of San Francisco. During those days Caitlin went through all the motions of 
normal living, but she was numb inside. She was aware that she, as well as the city, was waiting for 
something to happen. But what? Arthur was discrete and helpful. He reminded her of a comment 
somebody had once made, "When a perfect butler enters a room, that room becomes emptier." The 
memory made her smile.
     It was almost midnight of the third day of Julian’s absence. She had returned very late and 
was lying in the bathtub. She looked at her wrists again. The pain was gone and the bruises had 
turned light yellow, hardly visible. She heard somebody knock on her bedroom door and then come 
in. Her heart started to beat faster. Who but Julian would come into her bedroom?
     "I’m in the bath," she called out, turning off the running water. Quickly, she got out and put 
on the bathrobe. Julian was sitting in front of the mirror and their eyes met in the reflection.
     For a long time neither of them moved but then, slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned and faced 
her. He continued looking at her until, in spite of herself, Caitlin made a welcoming gesture, 
opening her arms for him. He moved then, swifter than she could follow with her eyes and she was 
literally swept off her feet. He turned around, holding her so tight that she could feel her ribs crack. 
The next moment they were in bed and he was kissing her and whispering silly things about how 
much he had missed her, and how much he loved her. 
     How could she distrust him? Caitlin admonished herself. 
     He kissed the inside of her palm and then her wrist and apologized again for having hurt her. 
     "I have felt like a villain these last few days," he said. 
     A wave of tenderness welled inside her as he continued to kiss her. He opened her bathrobe, 
his hands moved slowly over her body and she sighed in pleasure. Her nipples hardened under his 
touch. It felt so good. His lips traced paths over her still wet skin and she opened her thighs 
invitingly to his enticing fingers. Within minutes, his skilled hands sent her into her first orgasm. 
She clung to him, gasping, her nails digging into his flesh through his shirt. She made a small 
sound of protest when he let go of her, but he only got up to be able to remove his clothes. She 
watched him, her eyes wide open - he was so beautiful. She stretched towards him when he turned 
back to her, eager to touch him. They lay down together, side by side, just holding each other, 
before resuming their lovemaking. Hours later they were still going on. Caitlin was tired, and the 
pleasure was turning into a dull ache. At last, she tried to push him away and he immediately 
stopped moving.
     "What’s wrong?" he asked, a worried expression on his face. She smiled, her sore lips 
touched his lightly.
     "Turn over," she whispered, pushing him on his back. "I want to retaliate."
     He obeyed, but didn’t let her slide away, his hands gripping her hips in a steady grasp. She 
straddled him, pressing down on him. Then she took hold of both his wrists, and entwining her 
fingers with his, pressed his hands down on each side of his face. He understood then what she was 
aiming to do and let her, although they both knew that he could free his hands without much effort. 
Caitlin started to move rhythmically, watching his face all the time. She saw him bite on his lower 
lip until it started bleeding, his eyes never wavering from hers. She felt a strange urge to kiss him 
and taste his blood. She bowed down and felt the slightly salty taste on her tongue. She didn’t see 
his eyes turning pale, shining green, but felt his hands move under hers.
     "Oh no you don’t!" she exclaimed, pressing his hands down harder. She raised her head and 
looked at him again. His eyes were closed, but his shudders and the way he breathed told her that 
he was on the verge of an orgasm. She waited until his body started to arch against her, and a 
muffled moan escaped his lips. Then, quite deliberately, she leaned down again and slowly sank her 
teeth into his shoulder until she tasted his blood again. This time he freed his hands from her grasp 
and took hold of her head, but instead of pushing her away, he held her tight against his shoulder as 
if urging her to continue. Of course, she didn’t.
     Caitlin looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. There were bruises on her hips and on the 
inner sides of her thighs again. Her breasts and lips were sore, and Julian’s blood was smeared on 
her mouth and cheeks. This time she had been the violent one. She washed herself and looked up 
again. She saw fear in her own eyes.
     What’s happening to me! She stayed in the bathroom, reluctant to go back and face Julian. 
She hoped that he would fall asleep. No such luck. There was a knock and he came in, frowning 
against the bright bathroom light.
     "Are you all right, Caitlin?" he asked. She noticed gratefully that he had put on the bathrobe 
that she had left in bed. It was too small for him, but it covered the shoulder that she had bitten. She 
ran to him and, throwing her arms around his neck, started to cry.
     "Oh Julian!" she sobbed. "I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please! Forgive me. I 
don’t know what has happened to me. I have never hurt anybody in my whole life." She looked up 
at him, her face awash with tears. He was pale, a worried look on his face. He forced himself to 
smile. 
     "It’s okay, Caitlin," he tried to soothe her. "Nobody has died from a small bite yet. Unless one 
of us has rabies, of course." The joke sounded lame in his own ears.
     "Or is a vampire," Caitlin tried to keep up the light mood. But his body stiffened and he let go 
of her.
     "Let’s go to bed." Julian’s voice was suddenly distant, he didn’t look at her. "You need to get 
some sleep."


     After Caitlin fell asleep, Julian got up from the bed and sat by the fire, watching her turn and 
toss in her sleep. She called out his name several times in an anguished way. 
     "Am I losing you, Caitlin?" he asked the night.
     "I can’t let it happen! I can’t! I won’t!" He could not imagine continuing his existence without 
her. For a moment he entertained the notion of Embracing her. She certainly had acquired a taste 
for his blood lately! She could not know it of course, but what had occurred in Manzanita had left 
its mark. She had fed him her own blood to save him. Weak and half-unconscious as he had been, 
he had taken too much, almost killing her. He had had to return some and thus their mixed blood 
made her want more. It was far from an Embrace, but enough to kindle a desire in her that she 
found difficult to withstand. But he wanted her alive, warm, human. Would he love her as much if 
he turned her into one of his own kind? He didn’t want to find out. For now she was here, 
bewildered, suspicious and frightened, but alive and in love with him. He would have to disappear 
for a few days again until her bite, which was gone by now, ‘healed’. He would have to prevent her 
from doing it again in the future, no matter how much pleasure it gave him. Otherwise, someday he 
might lose control and go too far. Nevertheless, the memory of the explosive moment of the 
exquisite pain of that bite, combined with his climax, made him shudder with delight. He wanted it 
again, and the thought of having to abstain from it was painful. He sighed inwardly and left, after 
having kissed Caitlin lightly on the mouth.
 

     The next day all hell broke loose.
     As Caitlin tried to stay awake behind her desk, reports started to come in from all over the city 
that something was going on. There were tales of shootings, police raids, much fighting and other 
violent activities. But when the press got to the scenes, there was hardly anything left to report. 
Bullet-holes in the walls, traces of blood, a lot of destruction, but nobody was reported missing and 
there were no complaints to the police except from concerned citizens who reported gunshots and a 
lot of commotion. Nothing else. Caitlin spent the day alternately worrying about Julian’s well-being 
and becoming angry at him. Was he somehow connected with what was going on in the city? She 
was still ashamed about what she had done to him but comforted herself that it had not stopped him 
from reaching fulfillment. In the morning, she had found a vase full of white roses beside her bed 
and a lovely note from Julian. It said that he would be out of town for a few days, that he loved her, 
and hated to be parted from her. She had touched the white petals of one of the perfect flowers. 
     How thoughtful of you, Julian, she smiled with amusement. Did you think that red roses 
would remind me of the blood between us?
     Blood... 
     A chilly shudder went up her spine. She tore through the papers on her desk until she came 
upon the picture of the dead man with the severed throat. She looked at it for a long time, fear 
penetrating her whole being. Then, as in a dream, she slowly tore the photograph into tiny pieces 
and threw them away.
     That evening, while she was eating dinner alone, she heard a commotion in the hallway, an 
angry voice demanded to see Julian Luna. At first, she thought that it was Frank Kohanek and 
wondered how he had got inside the fort that Julian’s home had become. She looked outside and 
found several people arguing in angry voices. However, they fell silent when they saw her. 
     "What’s going on?" she demanded. A young man whom she had never seen before turned 
towards her. He scrutinized her for a long moment and then bowed formally.
     "Madame," he said, "will you please inform the Pri..." he stopped with an awkward movement.      
"Will you inform Mr. Julian Luna, that Cameron says ‘yes’?"
     Caitlin felt rather ridiculous but tried to be as formal as he was.
     "I’ll do so when I see him," she said, "but at the moment, he is not here." 
     Cameron moved a few steps closer and the others moved after him as if they were afraid that 
he would attack her. He looked her in the eye for several seconds until she felt like she was being 
hypnotized. Then he said:
     "I believe you." Then he smiled, and Caitlin felt as if he had released her. "I’ll be in touch," he 
said cryptically, turned back, and left without another word.
     "What was that about?" Caitlin asked of the small congregation that was left in the hallway. 
But they only mumbled incoherently and scurried away. Lillie was the only one left.
     The two women faced each other.
     "I hope you’re enjoying your stay here," Lillie said. Caitlin almost heard the unvoiced while it 
lasts. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin high.
     "Oh, I’m enjoying it immensely," she said in a high-pitched voice and turned her back on 
Lillie. 
     If you only knew how much, she thought to herself. Then she remembered that both Lillie and 
Julian had admitted to being lovers in the past, realizing that Lillie must know perfectly well how 
enjoyable being with Julian could be, and she felt a pang of retrospective jealousy. As she walked 
away, she heard Lillie chuckle. 
     I don’t want her around, she decided. I must ask Julian to get rid of her. In her mind, she 
repeated what Julian had once said to her: "Now, you’re mine!"