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  I raised the Glock and pointed it at her head but Michael grabbed my arm and pulled it down.

  “Melody?” His deep voice was surprised and upset. The girl never stopped struggling but she did look up briefly. She was still only halfway through the window and there was an odd light in her pale, no-color eyes.

  “Melody Jenkins?” Michael stepped towards her, a frown on his face. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Why are you breaking into my house?”

  The girl didn’t answer. She just continued to struggle, half in, half out of the window in eerie silence.

  “Be careful.” I stepped forward, the Glock still in my hand. “You know this girl?”

  Michael stared at her, a puzzled look on his face. “Yeah, she’s one of the neighbor’s kids. But she’s never tried anything like this before.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Melody? Hello? Melody?”

  She looked up at him again and her narrow face contorted in a hiss. Too late, I saw she had something in her hand.

  “Get back!” I planted my hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him backwards as hard as I could. At the same time I rapped the girl he’d called Melody hard on the knuckles with the butt of my Glock. Michael stumbled and nearly fell just as the tiny device she’d been holding fell into my hand. It was a small metal canister and the moment it touched my hand it began to hiss, releasing some kind of gas.

  I threw the canister as hard as I could out the hole in the window. We watched as it continued to hiss and release its payload harmlessly into the green expanse of Michael’s back lawn.

  Michael was on his feet again and he looked shaken. “What was that?”

  I looked at the palm of my hand. There was no change at first, then as the light hit my skin, it started to turn black.

  “Silver nitrate,” I said. I sniffed my hand. “And some kind of ammonia compound.” Just as I said the words, the hissing gas canister in the backyard exploded with a flat bang that sounded like a firecracker. A lethal firecracker.

  Michael and I both ducked instinctively but Melody didn’t show any reaction other than to struggle harder to get through the window.

  “What the hell?” Michael stared out the window which was partially blocked by the teenaged girl.

  “Silver nitrate mixed with an ammonium compound makes a powerful explosive,” I told him. “They were probably hoping to spray enough of it into the air that you’d inhale it. Failing that, the explosion at the end would have driven it into your skin. Either way you would have been out for the count for a while—maybe long enough for them to come and collect you after it got too dark for Mrs. Lebowitz to see what was happening.” I gestured with my blackened hand. “Do you have any salt? If I don’t get this off soon I never will.”

  “Second cabinet on the right. Why did they send Melody in with it?”

  I shrugged as I dug for the salt. “Think about it. Mrs. Lebowitz isn’t going to think anything about your next door neighbor’s kid going through your yard. So she won’t call the police and the vamps won’t have any trouble taking you down. No muss, no fuss.”

  “But…but look at her. What did they do to her?” He gestured at Melody who had almost managed to get all the way into the kitchen by now. He sounded shaken but it was no more than I had expected. The vamps fight dirty—they always have and they always will.

  “She’s in thrall to a vampire,” I said, finally locating the salt and pouring a handful into my blackened palm. I reached around the oblivious Melody to get a small amount of water from the sink and began to scrub the salt into my skin. “They’ve planted some kind of a post-hypnotic suggestion in her brain. Probably to break in and hand you the canister. Maybe to try and hurt you too, so be careful.”

  The thin teenaged girl was finally through the window— she unfolded herself from her awkward position like a living, flesh colored origami and climbed down from the sill above the sink. But instead of attacking as I had feared, she stood blinking in the mid-morning light. Suddenly I had an idea.

  “Michael, look into her eyes and ask her something,” I said.

  He glanced at me. “Like what?”

  “Gosh, let me think about it,” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm. “How about asking her who sent her to break into your house and gas you?” I scrubbed harder at my hand. The black stain was beginning to fade—a little, anyway.

  Michael stooped down so that he was on eye-level with the girl. “Melody, honey?” he said, uncertainly, “Can you tell me how you got here and who sent you?”

  Melody stared right through him. She didn’t even blink.

  “No, no.” I shook my head impatiently. “Michael, you’re a vampire now. Use your powers. Don’t ask—tell. Look her in the eye and command her to tell you who sent her. And really believe that you have the authority to command her.”

  He glanced at me. “How do you know all this?”

  I thought of one long, cold night in the belly of the Andretti coven when Uncle Harry and I had barely escaped with our lives. It was one of those times you’d just rather forget about. So I shrugged.

  “I kill vampires for a living—or I did, anyway. It’s my job to know all their nasty little tricks.”

  He nodded at me. “Thanks.”

  “For what?” I said.

  “For saying ‘their’ nasty tricks instead of ‘your’ nasty tricks. Thanks for not lumping me in with them,” he said.

  I sighed. “The jury’s still out on that one.” I nodded at the girl. “Now try it again.”

  Michael took a deep breath and looked down into the girl’s eyes again. “Melody, look at me,” he said. This time his voice was low and commanding. For the first time, I felt a flow of power coming from him, an almost electrical charge that raised the short hairs on the back of my neck and made my skin break out in a rash of chill bumps.

  Slowly, the girl’s head turned and I saw her no-color eyes focus on his face.

  “Tell me who sent you to my house,” Michael commanded in that same, deep powerful tone.

  The girl’s thin pink lips opened but what came out wasn’t the voice of a teenager. “He who is looking for you sent me,” she said, or someone said through her. I wrapped my arms around my shoulders and shuddered helplessly. I would know that pale, whispery voice anywhere.

  “Who is that?” If Michael was rattled by the whispery voice coming from Melody’s mouth, he didn’t show it. Slowly, her narrow face turned toward me. “Ask Katherine. She knows.”

  I stepped forward, my fright turned to anger. “Say your name, you coward,” I demanded. “You never have before. In all the years I’ve known you, I never really knew who you were.”

  “It was not necessary for you to know.” Melody’s head turned blindly until she was facing Michael again. “You are the future of the race, Michael—the culmination of centuries—that which was foretold,” she said in that same, dry, horribly familiar voice. “Come to me peacefully and Katherine will have an easy death. If you force me to seek you out, the method of her death will be both painful and slow.”

  “You bastard,” I said, my voice grating low with hate. “If you come for me you’d better come prepared. Or have you forgotten how many blood-suckers I killed on your orders? You’ll just be one more notch on my belt.”

  The girl’s head turned towards me again and her mouth opened to emit a high, whispery laugh. I felt my stomach clench like a slick fist and then I leaned over the sink and lost every drop of the black coffee I’d had at Mrs. Lebowitz’s.

  “Hey, hey…are you all right?” Michael was right behind me, holding my hair out of my face and putting a cool, soothing hand on the back of my neck. I shook him off.

  “Fine. I’m fine.” I ran some water in the sink and rinsed out my mouth. While I was at it, I rinsed off my palm as well which was still faintly stained with the remains of the silver nitrate.

  I could feel my cheeks getting hot. I hate to puke almost as much as I hate to cry. Especially in front of an audience