Little Michael noticed her face seemed to twist, her eyes flashing in the night. He wanted to obey her, but…

  But…

  She wasn’t his mom!

  She let go of Michael’s arm and reached up to fix her jacket, still staring down at the kid. “I paid off the hotel, explained I was your aunt and that your Mom was down with a strange form of madness. If you shut your mouth, you will at least have table scraps, you miserable little PITA.” She huffed. “If my last little slave hadn’t died I wouldn’t need you, so be grateful he mouthed off one too many times.”

  She leaned over, putting her eyes just inches from little Michael’s. “Don’t make me eat you too.”

  The little boy stared at her in fear, believing every word the woman told him. She oozed something that made him want to curl up in a little ball and cry, not allowing himself to look up so that hopefully she was gone when the sun came back up.

  His mom had told him to run back to their hotel weeks ago, and had never shown back up. Now he was with some woman claiming she was his aunt.

  His eyes narrowed at her. His mom hadn’t feared the horrible man in the alley the night she disappeared. And if this lady ate him, he hoped she choked on one of his bones.

  Her cry of surprise when he lashed out and kicked her was satisfying, and he turned to run. He made it two feet before something slammed the back of his head and he went flying.

  Little Michael hit the ground, skinning his knees as his hands reached out to stop his head from bouncing off the concrete.

  The lady hissed, “Little bastard, you will learn or die. I really don’t care which.” Her voice dripped with anger. “And you will learn no one kicks Analine without penalty.”

  “Oh, I think there is one who can.” The voice of the male who spoke from behind her was dark, malevolent, and deadly.

  Analine whipped around to find a man in a dark coat just two feet away. His vampiric eyes flashed red and his face was contorted in absolute hatred.

  Behind her, another man was picking up the young boy. “Don’t look,” he told him. “She isn’t going to hurt you anymore.”

  Blood dripped out of Analine’s mouth; her shock was wearing off and she looked down. The first man’s hand, its fingernails looking like daggers, had opened her chest and grabbed her heart. “I don’t think this was working anyway,” he told her before his hand crushed the heart. His hand continued upward, cutting through her rib cage and slashing through her head from chin to brow. Her eyes lost focus as her body dropped to the concrete.

  Michael made the sign of the cross over the dead Were. “Go to hell,” he told the woman as he stepped across her dead body. “Call the Pod, Akio. We are going back to Paris.”

  Akio subvocalized his request to Eve and turned to follow Michael to a twelve-story building across the street.

  “We will go to the roof,” Michael told him, his paces resolute. “We will walk, so we don’t scare the boy.”

  “Hai,” Akio agreed.

  Minutes later the three came out of the door that exited onto the roof. Little Michael held Akio’s hand and stared in wonder as a black ship descended from the night sky. “Who are you?” he asked, looking from the ship to the men and back.

  “Some call him,” the bald man said, pointing at Akio, “the Shadow.” He pointed to himself. “My name is Michael. I’ve been called ‘the Archangel’ in ages past, and now?” He smiled. “Now I am the Dark Messiah.”

  Akio jumped into the front seat. Michael reached under little Michael’s arms and picked him up, placing him in Akio’s lap. “You will have to ride up here until we get back to Paris and find your people.”

  “Paris?” little Michael whispered, choking back a sob.

  “We cannot do anything for your mother,” Michael admitted. “She is gone. But boys need to be with their family so they can grow up into the men they were meant to be. We will take you back to your people, your tribe.”

  The sleek black craft rose into the sky, then turned and headed toward what was left of the great city of Paris.

  Nagoya, Japan

  Jacqueline squeezed her lower legs around her horse’s barrel to go faster. Mark was just behind her, but hell if she was going to give him the satisfaction of getting ahead of her. She knew that if he did, he would be on top of that ball and returning it to the other end of the field in an instant.

  And that would make the score a tie.

  And that just would not do.

  She had also realized in the last twenty minutes of playing polo—despite the simulated nature of the game—that he had an agility and balance that matched her own.

  And he had spent far less time training tirelessly with Michael.

  Not that she resented it. In fact, she found it kind of hot that he could hold his own. But she couldn’t let him win this point.

  She squeezed harder, and her horse’s gait changed. She felt it suddenly go bumpy, like something uncontrolled was happening. She looked back over her shoulder just in time to see Mark come up beside her in only two strides and then overtake her. As he did, her horse swerved into him and then away, kicking as it went as if also resenting the other horse overtaking it.

  Figures, she thought briefly as she swerved with it, falling to the side and then forward, grabbing a handful of mane for balance.

  Then the horse swung the other way, and one stirrup had already been lost. She was completely off-balance, and a second later she felt herself slipping. She tried to put her weight on a stirrup that simply wasn’t there.

  She fell forward over the horse’s shoulder.

  In slow motion she slipped off, reins providing no help or balance. She flinched, tucking and trying to avoid the trampling motion of the hooves she was falling on top of.

  Soon she would be beneath them.

  She looked upward, seeing horse and sky, and then she was aware of the wind being knocked out of her as she hit the deck.

  She couldn’t cry. Her body was in shock, even though it was a simulation and her Were capabilities should be able to take it.

  She could only lie there waiting for her visual display to return something that wasn’t quite so scrambled. She turned her head toward the sky, noticing that her steed was now patiently standing a good few feet to one side of her, as if on reset. Mark had already hit the ball down the field and was turning his horse around to head over to her.

  She inspected herself, feeling with her gloved hands to make sure her body was ok. She felt normal one moment and the next was not quite herself, as the sensory stimulation of the program flicked between her brain’s reality and the reality the program was feeding her. It was the most bizarre sensation she had ever experienced.

  Within a few moments, she was fully back in the virtual reality of the scene on the churned muddy playing field. She rolled over and picked herself up as Mark arrived.

  “You ok?” he asked her.

  She looked down at her muddy polo shirt and jodhpurs and her muddy gloved hands. “I’m fine, I think,” she said cautiously, making sure she really was ok.

  Mark grinned at her. “You stayed on well. Until you didn’t.”

  He was too high up to swipe at. Best she could do was thump his horse, which wouldn’t be fair to the horse even if it was a simulated entity.

  “You want to keep playing for this point?” he said, looking in the direction of the ball.

  Jacqueline narrowed her eyes. “One condition,” she said sternly. “You wait until I’m back on before we continue.”

  Mark thought about it and then agreed. “I’ll even hold your horse while you mount if you like,” he offered with a flourishing bow.

  “Chivalry?” she commented, bobbing her head with her bottom lip pushed out, impressed. She picked up her polo mallet, which was also caked in mud at this point. She flicked as much off the handle as she could and wiped the rest on her boot.

  Mark grinned as he trotted past her to the horse that was standing quietly, a few strides over. Jacqueline arrived at its side and hauled herself back up as Mark held the reins for her. “Good thing they’re programmed to reset,” he commented. “If this were real you would have ended up black and blue, the way you went down. And trampled.”

  Jacqueline grunted as she put one foot in the nearest stirrup, heaved her other leg over the horse’s back, and sat down on the saddle.

  Without waiting, Mark had already transitioned his horse into a canter from almost a standing start. Jacqueline flicked her reins and urged hers on too, trying to reach the ball first. Her mallet was tucked in at the horse’s side, ready to swipe into action when she was a few strides out.

  Just then the field deteriorated into a pixelated wash, leaving them chasing through blackness. A split second later the horses, mud, and polo wear disappeared, leaving a dull view of the room they had started in.

  “Heeeeey!” Jacqueline called, looking down at the metal horse torso she was straddling. Her gloved hands held onto nothing since the reins and everything else she had touched were simulated through the array of wires that fed into the gloves.

  She glanced at Mark, to see him looking equally disappointed. His visual patches were still over his eyes, making him look kind of wasp-like.

  She removed her patches and the room looked a little brighter. Eve had entered the room and stood in front of them.

  “Apologies. Yuko has been in touch, and she’s waiting for us in the parking lot. It’s time to go.”

  Jacqueline sighed, popping the patches into the holsters attached to the horse-like body she was sitting on. Mark did the same, and they carefully dismounted onto the blue padded mats.

  “It’s another world here,” Jacqueline commented, shaking her head. “Whoever would have thought about riding a horse just for fun?” She chuckled to herself.

  Mark was also in good spirits despite the initial disappointment of having their experience interrupted. “I haven’t ridden many horses in my time,” he confessed, “but that felt pretty realistic!”

  Eve smiled, satisfied that her invention had brought them pleasure. “It’s because the eye patches ‘wire’ into your ocular nerve using light pulses which trick your brain into all kinds of stimulated sensations. That’s why it’s so realistic—because your brain is telling you it is real.”

  “Without wires or electrodes!” Mark exclaimed excitedly.

  Eve nodded. “All through light pulses. Neat, huh?”

  Jacqueline still looked impressed. “That’s pretty awesome,” she admitted. “And I like the non-invasiveness.”

  Other riders were already heading into the room and mounting the pretend horses. “Yeah, I’d happily be hardwired into some tech for the experience, cyborg-style, but knowing there is a way where you don’t have to…”

  Eve nodded. “Much more convenient, especially when it’s for entertainment purposes.”

  Eve led them back along the long wide corridors of the entertainment palace toward the parking lot at the rear of the building. They passed several of the experiences they’d had and games they’d played, discussing briefly which were their favorites or the trickiest as they passed.

  Eventually, they reached the back doors and headed out into the parking lot. Eve guided them directly to the black box, which was parked in the same amount of space it would normally take to park a few hovercars. The three of them carefully crossed to the box and hopped in, finding Yuko fiddling at the computer screen.

  She looked up as they came in. “Did you have fun?” she asked, smiling.

  Jacqueline and Mark started telling her all the things they had done and played since she had left them several hours ago on the main street.

  “Sounds like you’ve had quite the time!” she exclaimed brightly as the box swooped through the sky to a quieter location.

  Jacqueline was brimming with enthusiasm. “I had no idea civilization could be so advanced. I mean, I know tech has its uses, but this is almost…excessive.” She grinned like a kid in a candy store.

  Eve sat quietly on the other side of the container at another computer. She turned. “They had Wata kashi too,” she stated simply.

  Yuko nodded sagely. “You have experienced good things today, then.”

  When the excitement had died down a little, Eve looked at Yuko pointedly. “And you? How were your ‘errands?’”

  Yuko flushed a little. “Good. All is well.”

  Eve glanced at her screen and back to Yuko. “Anything you want to tell me?”

  Yuko slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. Why?”

  Eve nodded at her screen. “Because I see the location the box went to. And the glow in your complexion,” she added, trying hard to stifle an excited giggle.

  Yuko blushed a deep red, lowering her eyes and then quickly covering her face with her hands.

  Jacqueline suddenly cottoned on to what was being discussed. “Has she been to see a boy?” She gasped.

  Mark frowned, looking at each of the females in turn. “How on Earth did you come to that conclusion?”

  Jacqueline chuckled. “It was obvious from her reaction,” she said simply. “So who is he?” she asked, turning to the faceless Yuko.

  Eve answered for her. “He’s a police inspector we met on a job not long ago. He helped us, and it turned out his family has a long history of fascination with our operation. He’s also super cute. ‘Inspector Hottie’ is what I call him. And he’s into Yuko.”

  Yuko had calmed herself a little and lowered her hands. She was still flushed and her eyes were focused on her lap, but she seemed to be composing herself.

  Eve continued. “The real question is, when are you seeing him again?”

  Yuko’s eyes came up to meet Eve’s without any other part of her body moving. “Tonight,” she whispered.

  Jacqueline clapped her hands with excitement, and even Mark gasped and laughed at the same time. Eve brimmed with enthusiasm and approval. “That is the best news I’ve had for a long time.”

  Yuko blushed, but her eyes remained on Eve. “You ok to watch the kids again?”

  Eve smiled. “Of course! They’ll have a blast.”

  Chapter Six

  Kirk was standing on the roof of a six-story building near the outskirts of what was left of their side of Old Paris, just looking to the west and thinking. He had on his vest, with cartridges in the sewn-in loops and his sawed-off shotgun slung at his side.

  The Were groups might have been destroyed, but nobody went out at night in Paris without protection, not even him.

  He heard some boots shuffle along the roof, step over a small block wall he knew was there, and continue in his direction.

  “Tim,” he called, not bothering to look behind him.

  “Kirk,” Tim responded as he ambled up beside his boss.

  “She’s out there, isn’t she?” Kirk asked his friend. “She isn’t going to stay.”

  “I’m not sure if she is waiting or watching. Hell,” Tim reached up to scratch his nose, “I think she is hoping something is coming in the night. Something she can release her pent-up, screwed-up sense of protection on.”

  Kirk glanced at the other lookouts on the buildings around him before he turned back to Tim. “She told you no.”

  “Several times,” Tim admitted.

  “Can’t say you didn’t try, and I got to say I’ll never call you a quitter.”

  “You?” Tim asked.

  “No,” Kirk shook his head slowly. “I decided I would be better off with someone who wants to stay at home, not be out there,” he nodded to the plains, “fighting the Darkness.”

  “Good man,” Tim told him. “I’ve been relegated to a casual friend. I think something else has her heart.”

  “The vampire?” Kirk asked. “Akio?”

  “Not someone, something,” Tim said. “Those are people who fought with us, and you know it.”

  “Not Eve,” Kirk pointed out.

  “She’s got enough humanity to be all right in my book.”

  “But it’s a technicality. She isn’t really a person.”

  “You know, Kirk,” Tim clapped his friend on the back, “sometimes you can be a dick.”

  The two men turned when they felt something different, Tim to the left and Kirk to the right, looking for whatever set their danger senses off. Moments later, Kirk popped Tim on the arm and pointed up.

  Both men watched as something black moved across the stars in the sky. Kirk put his hands up to his mouth and yelled, “Don’t you point your guns unless you want to shit them out later!”

  There were chuckles around them as they smiled, recognizing the ship.

  James joined them on the rooftop as the Pod landed and the cockpit started to open.

  Tim was the first one to speak. “Michael?” he whispered and walked forward, heedless of the ship.

  “Oh…damn,” James whispered under his breath. “She didn’t make it.” The two men watched as Tim reached into the plane and took the young boy from Akio, who handed him up.

  “Mr. Timothy,” the little boy was groggy from sleep, “I saw the stars so close I could touch them. But Mr. Akio said they were still too far away.”

  Tim held the boy in his arms, then adjusted him and allowed his head to fall to his shoulder. Seconds later, little Michael was asleep once more. Kirk and James walked up next to him.

  Michael was the first to jump out, his coat flapping as he vaulted easily out of the seat and over the side to land next to the Pod. Akio followed him out.

  “It seems,” Michael nodded to the young boy, “that his mother met the Duke in the city. She sacrificed herself to allow little Michael to run back to their hotel. William didn’t follow the boy. And I am sorry, but he had another bad scare right before we found him. He will need someone to take care of him.”

  “I got this.” Tim was rubbing the little boy’s back. “I told her not to go, that…” He choked up a moment. “That… It doesn’t matter. I told her not to go.”