Necroscope

and trapped Giresci's wrist in a band of steel-like fingers. His grip was ferocious. 'Your next project, you old fool? And if you had found him — found the vampire's grave — what then, eh? Old Faethor showed you how to do it, didn't he? And would you do it again, Ladislau Giresci?'

'What? Are you mad?' Giresci drew back more yet, inadvertently dragging the younger man's hand and arm into the beam of sunlight. Dragosani at once released him, snatched himself upright and reeled away into the room's cool shadows. He had felt the sunlight on his arm like acid, and in that moment he had known!

'Thibor!' he spat the word out like a vile taste. 'You!'

'Man, you're ill!' Giresci was struggling to stand up.

'You old bastard — you old devil — you ancient Thing in the earth! You would have used me!' Dragosani raved, as if to himself. But in the back of his mind, at the edge of his awareness, something chuckled evilly and shrank back, shrank down.

'You need a doctor!' Giresci gasped. 'A psychiatrist, anyway.'

Dragosani ignored him. He understood all now. He crossed to the small occasional table, took up his gun from where he'd placed it, jammed it firmly into its under-arm holster. He made to stride from the room, stopped and turned back. Giresci cringed away from him as he approached.

Too much!' the oldster was babbling. 'You know far too much. I don't know who you are, but — '

'Listen to me,' said Dragosani.

' — I don't even know what you are! Dragosani, I — '

Dragosani back-handed him, bruising his mouth and jerking his head round on his scrawny neck. 'Listen, I said!'

When Giresci turned his watering eyes back to Dragosani, they had gone wide with shock. 'I… I'm listening.'

Two things,' Dragosani told him. 'One: you will tell no one else about Faethor Ferenczy or what you've discovered of him. Two: you will never mention the name of Thibor Ferenczy again, or ever attempt to learn more than you already know of him. Is this understood?'

Giresci nodded, and in the next second his eyes went wider still. 'Y — you?' he said.

Dragosani laughed, however shrilly. 'Me? Man, if I were Thibor you'd be dead now. No, but I know of him — and now he knows of you!' He turned towards the door, paused and tossed back over his shoulder: 'It's possible you'll be hearing from me. Till then, goodbye. And Giresci — mark well what I've said.'

Leaving the house and moving into sunlight, Dragosani groaned and gritted his teeth… but the sun did him no harm. Still, he doubted if he would ever feel entirely comfortable under its rays again. It was not Dragosani who had felt the sun's sting in Giresci's house but Thibor, the old devil in the ground. Thibor, who in that moment of time had been ascendant, in control! But even knowing that it was so, still Dragosani was glad to get out of the direct sunlight and into his car. The interior of the big Volga was like a furnace, but the heat was in no way supernatural. As Dragosani wound the windows down and pulled away, heading for the main road, so the temperature dropped and he breathed easier.

And only then did he reach into his mind to dig out the leech-thing which was still hiding there. For he knew that if Thibor could reach him, then surely he could reach Thibor.

'Oh, yes, I know your name now, old devil,' he said. It was you, Thibor, wasn't it, back there at Giresci's? It was you, guiding my tongue, asking him those questions?'

For a moment there was nothing. Then:

/ won't deny it, Dragosani. But let's be reasonable: 1 did little to hide the fact of my presence. And no harm done. I was merely -

' You were testing your power!' Dragosani snapped. 'You tried to usurp my mind! You've been trying to do so for the last three years — and might have succeeded if I hadn't been so far away! I see it all now.'

What? Accusations? Remember, Dragosani, it was you came to me that time. Of your own free will, you invited me into your mind. You asked for my help with the woman, and I gave it willingly.

Too willingly!' Dragosani was bitter. 'I hurt that girl — or you did, through me. Your lust in my body… I could barely control it. I might easily have killed her!'

You enjoyed it. (A sly whisper.)

'No, you enjoyed it! I was carried along by it. Well, and maybe she deserved it — but I don't deserve you sneaking into my mind like a thief to steal my thoughts. And your lust has stayed in my body — which you must have known it would! My invitation wasn't permanent, old dragon. Anyway, I've learned my lesson. You're not to be trusted. Not in any way. You're treacherous.'

What? the voice in Dragosani's head made mock of him. /, treacherous? Dragosani, I am your father…

'Father of lies!' Dragosani answered.

How have I lied?

'In many ways. You were weak three years ago, and I brought you food. I gave you back a measure of your strength. You scorned pig's blood and said it was good only for freshening the earth. A lie! It freshened you. It gave you a lasting strength sufficient that you could reach out your mind to me even these three years later and in the full light of day! Well, I'll feed you no more. Also, you said sunlight would merely irritate you. Another lie, for I've felt how it burns you. And how many other lies have you told to me? No, Thibor, you do nothing except for your own advantage. I always guessed it, but now I know for sure.'

And what will you do about it? (Did Dragosani detect a tremor of fear in the mental voice? Was the Thing in the ground worried?)

'Nothing,' he answered.

Nothing? (Relief.)

'Nothing at all. Perhaps I made a mistake, seeking to be as you were, desiring to be one of the Wamphyri. Perhaps I'll now go away from here — and this time stay away — and let the years complete their work on you. I may have temporarily given your stinking bones something of flesh, something of life, but the centuries will take it all back again, I'm sure.'

Dragosani, no! (Real fear now, panic.) Listen: I wasn't testing my power. I wasn't testing anything. Do you remember how I told you I was not unique, that others of the Wamphyri were extant even now? I said that for centuries I had waited for them to come and release or avenge me, and they came not. Do you remember that?

'Yes, what of it?'

Why, can't you see? If our roles were reversed, would you have been able to resist? You gave me the opportunity to find out about those others, to learn what had become of them. Old Faethor, who was my father, dead at last! And Janos, a brother of mine who always hated me, exploded in the gasses of what he kept in his dungeons. Aye, dead and gone, both of them — and I for one glad of it! What? Didn't they leave me rotting in the earth for half a millennium? Oh, they heard me calling down all those

bitter nights, be sure of it — but did they come to set me free? Not them! So Ladislau Giresci fancies himself a tracker of vampires, does he? But I would have shown him how to track them, who left me to the dirt and the worms and the seep of centuries, when I rise up from this place! Ah, well, they are gone now, and my vengeance with them…

Dragosani smiled grimly. 'I can't help asking myself, Thibor, why they deserted you and left you to your fate? Your own father, for instance, Faethor Ferenczy: who would know you better than him? And why did your brother, Janos, hate you so? There's more to you than meets the eye, eh, Thibor? A black sheep among vampires! Who ever heard of such a thing? But why not? — you yourself have mentioned your excesses more than once. And I have personal recollections of them. Do the things you've done bother even your conscience? Or are the Wamphyri, and you in particular, without conscience?'

You make much of very little, Dragosani.

'Oh? I don't think so. I'm only just beginning to learn about you, Thibor. When you aren't lying outright, then