Jesse was watching his sleeping husband when the shock wave of bullets reached his ears.

Two nights ago, he’d seen that Walter was Jeremy’s evil vampire. Probably. Since yesterday morning when Walter had studied his face and then agreed to perform at today’s rally news conference, Walter had avoided looking at him. Last night they’d had sex and Jesse had faked every minute of it, feeling raped and wanting to vomit.

Tonight, he’d been relieved when Walter climbed into bed with a breezy “G’night, booboo,” and rolled away.

And now he felt snubbed and hurt. Damn his chicken heart: he’d still welcome Walter back and forgive him if only Walter would talk to him!

But what if he pierced the veil and found only a monster?

Walter breathed evenly and quietly.

The longer you keep silent about something, the harder it becomes to speak at all. But just a week ago he’d done it, he’d spoken to Walter and they’d cleared up so many things.

And now this. Speaking about something like this was beyond any power he had.

He thought about the awful rally this morning. Walter had scanned the crowd like a guerilla ready to duck and kill. Looking for Jeremy.

And they couldn’t have done worse if they’d planned to alienate the crowd. They’d meant to show that you could safely invite vampires into your home. They should have shown that Walter was a vampire and then shown him being invited into Malcolm’s plaza “home.” (Before Lavinia flew, Sally had quietly invited her in but nobody had seen that.)

Instead Malcolm invited him in first when nobody believed he was a vampire. From the edge of the plaza Walter boomed through the wireless mike, “May I pretty please come in?” in his swishiest voice. (He’d wanted to say, “Little humans, little humans, let me come in,” but Malcolm had put his foot down.) Malcolm said, “Welcome, come in,” and he sashayed in wearing a bathrobe while people laughed.

Then he dropped the robe to fly naked in sunlight and show he was like Lavinia. That might have worked except for the damn fig leaf.

A naked man spurting come from a raging hard on would have sent the wrong message so Malcolm had insisted Walter wear a condom and tape his hard penis discretely to his belly. That was fine. But without telling anyone, Walter had put an enormous dayglo pink fig leaf over the whole affair (which was so Walter that Jesse dared hope that everything was normal after all).

He looked ridiculous as he struck dumpy poses and flexed his muscles. Some people booed and called for Sally and Lavinia, they’d liked them. Even when he flew it looked like a stunt. Then the condom overflowed and gunk dripped onto the crowd…

Jesse burned with shame thinking about it. When Malcolm, white lipped with anger while Charla glared, said, “You can invite vampires into your home if you follow these precautions,” people really booed. Afterward the Mayor made a televised address urging people to stay indoors after dark and never speak the words “Welcome, come in.” He talked about irresponsible citizens and suggested that legal action might be taken.

At least Malcolm had ignored Jesse’s tentative suggestion that they film vampires coming in and out of Jesse and Walter’s own house. But the news helicopter still hovered and it was only a matter of time before someone worked it out. Such a mess.

Why for Christ’s sake was someone shooting fireworks? Fourth of July was barely celebrated anymore: fireworks during the day were bland and fireworks at night were out of the question. Even to shoot a skyrocket from a home window, you’d have to stick your head out and –

Those were gunshots!

Jesse licked dry lips. People were mad enough to take a shot at Malcolm but he was back in his plaza “home.” But people were mad at Walter too…

He looked down and Walter was watching him silently with blood-red eyes.

Jesse gasped and started back. Walter hadn’t looked so vampiric since the early days. He hadn’t been asleep; he’d been facing calmly away from Jesse, breathing evenly with open eyes. Now his face was deathly still, neutral.

Outside, stray bullets knocked over garbage cans, thudded against garage doors and clanked off of parked cars. An angry voice shouted.

While Jesse shook, Walter rose to his feet in a smooth glide and pulled on his dressing gown. He never met Jesse’s eyes again as he slipped out the bedroom door.

Jesse tried to find the courage he’d had five years ago. Then he’d run alone down the stairs and opened the door to bring Walter back in.

But then he’d run to save his beloved. If he followed now…

More voices shouted outside, and a helicopter drummed. Did he hear Walter’s voice saying something? Then only the chatter of helicopter blades.

The red hairs rose on the back of his neck. He was being watched.

He turned with helpless, dreamlike slowness.

His gaze swept across the alarm clock with the lighted red numbers, the yellowed package of rolling papers from ages ago when he’d smoked, the half-opened clothes closet, to the window which looked into the yard, that haven for half-human vampires.

Jeremy’s haggard face, raw with pain and hate, blazed at him so fiercely that Jesse jumped back. Jeremy held a wooden stake and a hammer.

Jesse bit his lip to keep from screaming, “He’s not here, I don’t know where he went!” Even now, half sure that Walter was evil, he couldn’t betray him.

Jeremy smacked the window with the hammer and vaulted into the bedroom through a vicious rain of shards. Garden dirt fell over the glass on the bed. Jesse lunged away, bleeding from a stinging cut across his cheek.

Jeremy crouched on the bed, looking at the terrified Jesse with unwilling speculation.

“You’re special to him. Someone it would hurt him to lose. Aren’t you?” The words seemed pulled from some alien insect lodged in Jeremy’s throat.

But Jesse, understanding, trembling, had to say truthfully, “I don’t know anymore.”