The moan of horror, when it came, was hauntingly familiar.

Sally Yan turned off the microphone to clear her throat. It was her show. The crowd was waiting. She had to start talking.

Twenty minutes ago, she been mad that the crowd was so small. Now she was relieved.

Malcolm Donald moved as if to take the mike. She snapped it back on (still seeing him stab her sister dead), said too loudly “Thank you for coming!” and winced along with everyone at the electronic shriek.

Behind her Charla Thorp muttered “Jeez.”

Sally kept her face neutral. They’d wanted Charla, who was a celebrity for her “You’re invading my home with your noise” viral video, but she was a royal pain in the ass. Lavinia, who always had Sally’s back, hissed a gratifying “Shuddup.”

“We’re, um, we’re holding this gathering in the early morning so there’s no reason to be afraid.” Sally wished her amplified voice was less shrill. “I mean, things won’t get out of control. This won’t be another debacle like at the plaza.”

Shit. The crowd already knew that and now Malcolm, responsible for the debacle, stiffened beside her. Could she possibly have started worse?

“Right, okay, um, so you’ve seen TV interviews and online videos. You’ve heard we’ve got a vampire who isn’t a killer and who can be in the sunlight. Well, we’re here today to prove it.”

The showdown at the plaza had been videoed from office and hotel windows. A news service that had built an enclosed walkway to their helicopter pad had even sent a camera crew. The internet swarmed with images of vampires crawling in midair over Malcolm’s plaza “home,” and of people standing in the open at night, walking toward a shiny red 1950s car with big fins.

Sally remembered the jumble of voices as she walked in a daze, Lavinia’s fiercely protective arm around her. Malcolm had said tiredly, “There was nothing else to do, nothing else,” while Sister Amanda spoke meaningless comfort in a soft stream.

Into a momentary pocket of silence, the kid Jeremy had whispered intently something which sounded like “You’ll help me find him. You better help me find him.” The words had meant as much and as little as anything else and were swallowed by a nightmare glare and wild thrum. The helicopter crew.

The copter had trailed them all the way back to Jesse and Walter’s and five minutes after they got inside (time for an efficient geek to run an address through a database search) every phone rang.

Walter shook his head no, and they turned all ringers off. The helicopter roared and circled but finally had to go home to refuel. In the guest room Sally wept against Lavinia with passionate guilt until she fell asleep to miserable dreams of KerriAnne’s sad face. Again and again she gave the little nod and watched her sister die.

With the sunrise had come reporters. “Don’t tell them what Walter is,” Jesse begged as the doorbell rang. “I’m not ready for that.” Sally, still in a fog, nodded, and vowed to say nothing about Lavinia either. But a few moments later, facing flashing cameras, she’d found herself declaring defiantly that Lavinia was her love and a vampire.

Lavinia had said, “Yo, schmucks, you wanna see?” and walked into the sunshine. Nobody was impressed: Lavinia looked human except for the obviously fake vampire teeth. Glowering, Lavinia made a move to rip her clothes off and fly and a horrified Sally practically flung herself in the way, shrieking, “Come film us tonight! We’ll walk outside!”

That night, the reporters had been more impressed. She and Lavinia had declared “Wherever we’re together is our home” and walked into a crowd of vampires unharmed. When the news went live their email filled with thank-yous from around the country (and many variations of “God will punish you fucking dykes but come sit on my face” – the internet gave people “special dispensation from the pope to be an animal”).

Facing the crowd now, Sally took a deep breath. Damn it, she could feel Charla thinking, “She shouldn’t show folks she’s so nervous.” Charla grated on her and she grated on Charla.

Thrusting her doubts aside, Sally said, “We want to show you today something that you have to see live to know it’s not a trick of the camera.” (Or as she could still hear Lavinia saying, “Anybody can’t handle it, fuck ‘em.”)

Scanning the crowd (Jeremy with his haunted eyes, a straight couple with their arms around each other, a bearded black man with granny glasses, a mother and son), Sally recognized Jesse and Walter’s neighbor, the white-haired hippie in the rainbow knit cap, looking delighted and excited. When Sally’s eye rested on her, she flashed a peace sign.

“This is Lavinia,” Sally said, warmed. “She’s a good person, a thoughtful and caring person and she is also a vampire. She’s standing in the sun but we will show you that she is a vampire in a way that will take your breath away.”

Lavinia stepped forward, staring at the crowd with quiet dignity. Take me or leave me. She wore a kimono which brushed the ground. (The crowd had no way of knowing how unheard-of this was or how Lavinia had glared while Sally dressed her with glee.)

Sally had one skill a leader must have: the ability to feel a crowd. They were with her, they were interested, they were studying Lavinia.

“I know she doesn’t look like one,” Sally said. Her words came at just the right moment to speak to their doubts but not so quickly that she seemed desperate for them to believe. She had just done well but Charla didn’t seem to notice.

Lavinia was breathing deeply, feeling the power of the sun on her face and hands. She didn’t look nervous. Lavinia had the gift of making herself at home wherever she was.

Acting on a suggestion from Walter, Sally made herself say in a high innocent voice, “I’ve never heard of a beautiful vampire before,” then followed with a reasonable Glinda imitation, “Ehnly bed vempiahs ah egly.” Walter had been right: the crowd chuckled and were more on her side. But she felt cheapened: her gift was sincerity, not theatrics.

“Well,” she continued, blushing, “she was bitten and turned and she’s fought her way back to humanity.” With my help and love, she thought, then decided defiantly to say it. “With my help and deep, deep love.”

A snort of disgust from Charla made her lips tighten. But Lavinia turned those violet eyes on Sally and took her hand. She’d been right to say it: the crowd was happy for them. For the moment, the Charla fans ignored Charla.

It was time. “You’re going to see what sunlight really does to a vampire. Get your cameras rolling and be ready to be shocked.”

She dropped Lavinia’s hand and nodded. She had convinced a glowering Lavinia that hopping around getting boots and jeans off would look silly. Lavinia undid the kimono and let it slide to the stage. She was gloriously naked underneath.

Sally, too nervous to be aroused, felt for the reaction of the crowd. Interested. Titillated, though Lavinia was not young or gorgeous.

Three cops at the rear watched with stone faces. Sally had wondered if Lavinia should just wear a skimpy bikini but Lavinia had said, “No, naked is better. Trust me on this.” Malcolm, Jesse and Walter had quietly agreed and Charla had shrugged.

Walter had said, “Maybe I could be the one,” but when Jesse said, “Please, no,” Walter nodded instantly. With that fleeting sad look, gone the next second, Jesse had joked “If Walter gets in the sunlight, we’ll get a clean-up bill from the City. The sun doesn’t just juice him up with blood, I’m afraid.”

Lavinia started to undulate hugely, lost in ecstasy. The crowed was fascinated and unnerved.

That was when the moan, cold, ancient and frighteningly familiar, swelled beneath their noise.

Sally ignored it at first, wishing she had let Lavinia fumble and look dumb as she stripped. It would have made her more human. And as Lavinia stayed on the ground, she worried in the other direction, tight-lipped.

But Lavinia flew. With a melodic peal of sound, she surged twenty feet. The crowd gasped. Sunlight gleamed from suddenly tilting lenses.

The ancient moan surged into a scream of horror!

Sally, eyes snapping like a mouse in a snake pit, searched desperately to see from which direction the danger would come.