crawling with the Feds' reaction team, so Boone couldn't get a good look, but he was guessing at least twenty dead.'
'Let me guess. A colleague of Dr. Turley?'
'Yep. She was on our list to contact. A Ph. D. in anthropology, religion specialist.'
'Smart vamps don't hit parties in the suburbs,' Milo said. 'That brings too much heat and attention. Vamps feed on the outskirts. It doesn't make sense.'
'Unless the payoff is worth the risk,' Julie said. 'My guess is they're looking for the when and where to use their artifact.'
'You think we're running out of time?'
'Why else would they risk having the Feds track them? The Monster Control Bureau guys are not the most efficient bunch, but they have resources we can only dream about. Vampires, especially old ones, don't pull stunts like this. That's how they lived to be old to begin with,' she said with authority. 'I don't think we are running out of time-I know it.'
'So who's the idiot now?' Milo queried, somehow managing to look both smug and innocent at the same time.
'Don't push it. Milo, tomorrow you cover for me. Grandpa and Earl can't know what I'm going to do. Pitt…' That was a good indicator that she was not happy, she almost never called me by my last name.
'Yes?'
'Try to dream something useful tonight, because tomorrow you're going to meet my dad.'
'Sounds like fun.'
'It won't be.'
Chapter 13
Dreaming. Pleasant dreams, just the normal disjointed clearing of the human subconscious. I slept deeply, able to tune out Trip's snores from the other bunk, and my only visions were good ones. Julie's beautiful smile and full-auto assault shotguns.
Then it changed. Events came into focus. My consciousness shifted gears. The pleasant normal dreams evolved into something sharper, with seemingly real physical sensations. Cold snow under my bare feet, and the smell of smoke in the air.
I was standing in the remains of a small town. The nearby buildings had been shelled into rubble. A light dusting of snow covered the broken stone, shattered wood and rusting metal. There were a few signs and torn advertising on some of the crumbled walls. I did not recognize the language, but it seemed familiar. The style of the art was simple and old-fashioned. A gray winter sky loomed fat and heavy overhead. The world was totally and impossibly silent.
The Old Man leaned against a piece of rubble, cane in hand. He took a pocket watch out of his homespun coat and examined it absently when he saw me.
'You are late, Boy. Much work to do.'
'Sorry.'
'No, I the one that is sorry. Almost killed, I got you last time.'
'When the Cursed One saw us on the beach?'
'Too dangerous to take your spirit out of body. I not know what I doing. I new at this. Too, how you say… stupid to do again. But I had to show… show Cursed One to you so you know what I know. Too dangerous. No more out of body.'
'What would have happened if he had caught us?'
'For me, probably stay same. For you, you end up like me. Something else probably come and take your body while it empty.' He shivered when he said that, drawing his collar up against the winter cold. 'Would be bad.'
'Something would inhabit my body?'
'Yes, there are things that not have body of own. They are, how you say… jealous. We not leave your body again. Not safe. I have to find new way to show you things.'
'So where are we right now?' I gestured at the silent town.
'In your head, Boy. Where did think?'
'I don't know. I've never been here. I've never been to that field we met in before either.'
'In your head. But from my memory. I am friend, I am guest here. I can show you thing that I know. Is hard to show, but I getting better. For smart boy, you are sometimes dumb.'
'Hey now,' I said defensively.
He laughed deeply. 'Is fine. I forget. Real world is different where I am. Rules change. Come, I show you.' He pointed with his cane, and walked away through the snow. I followed.
The church had been old and battered even before most of its roof had been blown off by artillery. The stained glass windows had been shattered, and small parts of the walls were charred ash where the church had caught fire. It was obvious that it had been a simple but beautiful structure at one time.
'What is this?'
'Is church. Got blowed up.' He made an explosion noise and opened his hands, pantomiming a bomb. 'I not know name, I go to synagogue own self.'
'I can see that. I mean, what are you trying to show me?'
'Is Place of Power. Cursed One brought ancient artifact here. Under this land was place where old kings make sacrifices; before man, other things use this place. This is last place that Cursed One used to try to destroy time. Time is his enemy. Lucky for us, his learning was not right. He was not ready for such bold move. He failed.' We continued toward the building. The stone stairs were cold and slick with ice. 'Lucky that time.'
'What would have happened if he had succeeded?' I ducked my head under a broken beam in the doorway. The interior of the church was just as damaged. Pews were smashed or knocked over. There was an altar at the far side of the room. 'What does it mean to destroy time?'
'He not want to destroy. Cursed One thinks he can control. He has old device. Older than world. When matter was organized to create this world, the artifact was already there. Not meant for this world. It can torture time. Turn it… backwards. Make it stop for some. Go for others. Is bad. Very bad. Cursed One is vain, full of pride, nobody can control time. Will destroy world.'
'The Elf Queen said that he is trying to get back his lost love.'
'Yes. That was first reason. Now I think he is so much twisted with evil and hate I not know. I will try to show you. If you understand him, maybe you can stop.' He reached up and put his cold, arthritic hands alongside my face. 'I try to show. I not take you out of your body, but I can maybe show you Cursed One's memories.'
'Wait. What is your name? The vampire called you Bar Eeka.'
'Byreika,' he corrected. 'Not important who I am. Now shush, is hard to show. Must concentrate.'
'Are you a ghost?'
'Ugh. Quiet, Boy. Time is short. Maybe is ghost. I not know.' The Old Man squeezed my head. He wore an intense look of concentration.
'What is this place?'
He took one hand away, and brought it back with a surprising slap. It stung.
'Always with the questions. Respect your elders. Now shush!'
The Old Man closed his eyes in concentration. The church and the smoldering town began to darken and fragment. Falling snow froze in midair. The world he had created began to fall apart without his attention. I could see my reflection in his glasses. As I watched, my face changed into someone else.
Confusion, resolving itself into a hazy vision from long ago.
The jungle road was hot. My horse was exhausted by the heat and lathered with foam. My plate was splattered with the blood of my enemies, and my helmet and plume sat heavy on my sweat-drenched brow. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of powder. I rested my battle-ax across my saddle and passed my matchlock to my secondary to be reloaded. Large carrion birds circled overhead, eager to have their chance at the
