"Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead." - Oscar Wilde

Several times a day Michael came in to sit with me. He didn't cry as he had when we'd lost Donovan. He was sad, broken, and silent. I began to suspect he, too, was simply waiting for the end to come. I had the

Eddie approached. "I'm sorry about your boy," he said.

"Both boys. Both of my sons are dead." My voice was damaged from screaming, and sounded flat and cold, even to me.

"I just wondered... it's just that certain supplies are getting low and..." He faltered under my unblinking stare.

"Sorry. I'll ask Freyja," he said, and hurried away, loathe, perhaps to catch the disease of longing for death.

Atsheena sat in Michael's usual place when he wasn't there. Her fear consumed her. It radiated out from her, a dark aura. I had nothing left to be frightened of. Our brokenness was a strong bond. She held my hand, and we did not speak.

At night, Freyja would slide beneath the blankets of the tiny bed and lay with me, giving me enough relief from my pain to sleep, but when she left I was raw.

Gaia washed my face with cool cloths and cared for me as a mother would, but I didn't want to be comforted. I sent her away.

Judith was the first to realize that I needed someone to set me in motion again. If I was adrift after losing Donovan, I was obliterated by what Tesscati had done to Ike. She approached me and put something on the little table next to the bed. She kissed my head, brushing my hair back from my forehead just the way my mother used to do when I was a child and not feeling well. "Sometimes we are willing to risk life and limb over silly things. Sometimes we realize that there are things totally worth all that risk and more. Sometimes life and limb just isn't enough, and we lose what is most dear. It hurts. I know it hurts. I lost my son forty seven years ago. I never forget him. Not ever. Not for a single minute of any day. But you still have risks that need to be taken. This old lady wants you to get up."

She kissed me again and adjusted the covers over me. After she'd left I looked and saw what she'd left. It was a square chunk of honeycomb, dripping in sticky sweetness in a little plastic box with a golden bow on it.

Raziel was the next to visit. He opened the door and entered the dark room like a human. He did not hold himself erect or move quickly. He walked like he, too, was experiencing the feeling of crumbling to nothing under the weight of what had been asked of him. He sat on the edge of the bed next to mine, facing me but not directly in front of me. His elbows rested on his knees.

"I was late," he mumbled.

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what he was talking about. I didn't care. I wasn't sure why I had thought not caring was such a bad thing. It was astonishingly liberating.

"I was supposed to be there. I was supposed to help you. I was sent with an entire host of angels. Your cries were heard,

Now he had my attention. "What are you saying?"

"I tried. I came the second I was told to go. I went as fast as I could. I flew as fast as I ever had. So fast that I outstripped the host by far, so I was alone when I encountered the angelic army of Acedia. They were lesser angels, far weaker than me but there were so many and I was alone." As he spoke his form shifted, matter dissolving into light. He was before me as his angelic self. As always, he was illuminated from within and shimmering in every color of the spectrum, his massive wings folded behind him but I saw that one wing hung at an awkward angle and there were vast patches missing all the feathers entirely. He was covered in weird slashing spots of darkness. I understood that these were the cuts and wounds inflicted upon him as he had fought to get to me. His wrists were damaged quite badly. Had he been bound?

"Eventually my group caught up with me and, together, we were able to defeat and scatter the attackers. But, by then... I was too late."

I just lay there looking at him. "You were sent to help me?"

"Yes."

"I see. And if you had stayed with your group like you were supposed to, do you think you may have not been detained by these others in this way?" I asked.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position and faced him squarely. "I thought you exist outside of time and space."

"So do those who oppose me," he said.

"Why did God need you at all?" I asked. "God is God, right? The Great I Am. That Which Is. Why didn't He just answer me Himself?"

Raziel's fiery angelic eyes shimmered with diamond tear drops that were neither liquid nor gas, or anything else of this world. "I do not not know why That Which Is moves in such ways. I was not there when the stars were cast into the sky. It is not my place to ask."

A spark came to life in my heart, not love, but darkest rage. "Get out," I told him.

"Simone, you..."

"GET OUT!" I screamed. And he was gone.

I lay back down and closed my eyes and tried hard to make dying happen faster. There was no way I could have ever guessed who my next visitor would be. I couldn't have guessed, and I wouldn't have tried. I'd never known the spirit could be brought so low and still cling to the body.

I slept far more than I was awake. Sometimes my sleep was blessed oblivion. Other times it was Hell, replaying the destruction of my two beautiful sons over and over again.

"Mom? Mom, wake up now," the voice said.

It was just like the old days when I was certain that the voices were not real, and I didn't know how to tune them out, and I couldn't stop hearing them and responding to them. This was a thousand times worse, though. This taunting came in my own dead son's voice. Even from behind my closed eyes, hot tears burned. I knew I wasn't sleeping. I must have finally, completely lost any remaining grip I had on reality.

"Mom. You need to wake up. Come on. You can do this. We need you to come back to us."

Just go. Leave. You've won. I quit. Please just go. I thought these things but did not say them. I made them go away before by ignoring them. What was real? The bed was real and solid. The soft pillow beneath my head.

"Mom! You're not even sleeping any more. Come on! Are you trying to get revenge for all those mornings I wouldn't wake up?"

The cold air hitting my filthy body when the blankets were ripped away felt very real. I opened my eyes to see who was pestering me. Donovan sat on the edge of the bed. His slightly too long hair fell across his forehead. His eyes were worried. It was him, but not him. It was my beautiful boy, changed. Grown. Other. "Hi, Mom," he said.

He smiled uncertainly and suddenly my son was in my arms and I was sobbing once more, this time in pure unadulterated joy. If I had been in the depths only a moment ago I now soared among the stars. I could barely breathe. My words were mere gasps.

"Oh my baby! You're alive? You're alive!" I wanted to press him so tightly against myself that I could just absorb him back into me and carry him once more in my womb where I was certain he was safe and warm and I didn't have to share him with anyone. I felt like I would never be able to let go.

He submitted to my embrace for only the briefest moment before pulling away. He'd never liked to be held but, even in my shattered state I realized I was hurting him with the pathetic remains of the Power that lingered in my body. I released him, but clung to his shirt sleeve like a toddler, not physically able to let go entirely. My son! Alive! The room was dark. Only a single small candle flickered on the table in the corner, but even by that meager light, the differences in him were plain. He was far too old. In the time he'd been gone he'd aged half a dozen years. His skin was perfectly flawless. It was cool to touch and less yielding than flesh should be. But it was his eyes that were the giveaway. His eyes burned with a deep scarlet fire. These facts sunk into my brain slowly, like trapped animals sliding into a tar pit, unable to save themselves from their creeping descent. Too much had happened. I'd pushed too hard and it seemed my mind could no longer process anything quickly.

"You're..." I stopped. I couldn't quite say it.

He nodded and offered his trademark half smile.

I didn't let go of him. I drank in the familiar features in greedy gulps.

"So you still love me?"

"Oh, my ! You even have to ask? I love you more than life itself!" I sobbed the words, knowing they were literally true.

"This is really hard for me, Mom," he whispered.

For a split second I thought he meant that being a vampire was hard, and I was going to offer some kind of assurance, but then I realized he was referring to my proximity. It was hard for him to be so near warm flesh in this way and keep his appetite reigned in. I remembered the reaction of the vampires in the compound had to me and understood that, to be around me, in particular, was even more difficult than being around other humans. I forced myself to let go. He made a good show of acting casual when he stood and moved across the room to pour me a glass of water. He put it on the bedside table and took a few steps away from the bed.

My brain was like a rusty, unused squeezebox being pressed back into service.

"I'll clean up and get dressed!" I said. It seemed like a novel idea. "Do you want to wait outside for me?" The last thing in the world that I wanted was to let my child out of my sight, but I also realized how hard he was fighting to maintain control and thought that giving him some time to collect himself might be a good idea.

He nodded, a little too eagerly. "Yes. Get dressed. I'll wait." He spoke in short, clipped sentences and then, with movements just a tiny bit too fast to pass for human, he left the room and closed the door behind himself.

I moved as quickly as I could. I was suddenly aware that I was grossly dirty. I hadn't cleaned myself in days and I stank. My mouth tasted like a sewer. I went to the bathroom, and washed,and pulled on the thickest clothes I could find: heavy black jeans, a baggy sweatshirt, socks, shoes, and gloves. I took one of the clean veils from the little closet, covered my hair and face, and raced from the room on weak, shaking legs.

He was still there! Oh, how I longed to hold him, just to make sure he was solid and not an apparition. Michael was there. Tear streaks stained his cheeks and he, too, seemed to need reassurance. He was constantly reaching out toward our boy. Everyone gave us space except Freyja and Atsheena. They knew that my blood, pulsing with The Power, was a near irresistible draw to vampires and young vampires, especially, were not known for their great strength of will.

"What happened?" I asked. I didn't really want to know but, at the same time, I had to understand. "I was so sure that you were dead--that they'd never let you live."

"Me too," he answered. "There was so much going on: the explosions and the soldiers and people screaming and running and shouting orders. Denisa grabbed my arm and said, "Come on! Let's go!" I started to follow her but then I remembered what you said. You told me not to leave that place no matter what, even if the building fell down around me. So I stopped. I told her I wasn't supposed to go. She started to get really mad and then I realized that the ones on the other side were freaking out. They were screaming at her to get me and grab me and hurry before you came back. I knew that I was in big trouble so I tried to run but, she was so fast, you know? And crazy strong. Way stronger than I was. She just grabbed me and dragged me out. I figured she'd kill me as soon as we were outside but she didn't. There was a cop car waiting out there for us and she threw me in the back and slammed the door shut. There was no way for me to get out. They took me out of the city somewhere and locked me in a room and left me there for a long time. Two whole days, I think. I'm not sure. It all got a little confused in my head. When they came back I was so hungry and thirsty and tired and scared I couldn't even think straight. The first one in the door was Tesscati." He shook his head and Michael put an arm around his shoulders. "I was a mess. I wasn't brave or heroic at all." He didn't whine or cry or fuss. He was simply stating a fact.

Michael hugged him. A pang of envy shot through me.

"Any one of us would have been terrified, Donny. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I just..." Michael's voice broke and he closed his eyes, "I'm so sorry."

"There was nothing you could have done, Dad. There was nothing anyone could have done. It was this huge plan that they'd put in place and it all went just like they'd hoped. Tesscati told me that it never really had anything to do with me at all. That he couldn't do anything to you physically so he was aiming to break your spirit."

"It worked," I told him. Losing you was the beginning of the end for me. I never knew anything could hurt so bad."

The door burst open and Adam was in front of us. He'd run so fast it seemed as though he'd teleported. Tears of blood burned crimson tracks down his cheeks. With trembling hands he reached out and held Donovan's face. "You're alive," he said.

"I am," Donovan grinned.

"God, kid. I'm so sorry. I swear I had no idea. She had me duped. I was such a fool."

Donovan held his wrists. "It's OK, Adam. I'm OK. Really."

The two of them hugged. "If you need anything at all, kid... you name it."

"I promise."

Adam didn't meet my eye, but he said, "I'm sorry I let you down, Simone."

I didn't care. I could have forgiven him just about anything just then. "None of us is omniscient, Adam. You're here now with us, and so is Donny."

Adam squeezed Donovan's arm one more time, and left us. It was still difficult for him to be close to me.

Donovan focused on me once more, and I marveled at this child's strength of will. "Don't give up, Mom. Please don't let him win. If he wins...." He was suddenly very young in my eyes.

"I don't want him to win either, Donny. God knows I don't want that. But I'm just not sure I can keep going on like this. I have you back, for now. What if I lose you again? What he did to your brother," a sob caught in my throat and I looked away from the fiery hunger burning in my child's scarlet eyes.

"You're not going to lose me, Mom. I'm different but I'm not gone. That's just how life is, right? People change. Kids grow up." He fidgeted. "Mom?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Yeah?"

"Do you remember that day in my room? The day we first talked about... you know... what it's like to be different?"

"I remember," I said.

"I've thought about that day a lot since all this happened. The creatures used to tell me that there was darkness in me. They teased me that I would be like them someday, that I would hunger for blood..." He looked down at his shoes, letting that sentence hang in the air. Part of me wanted so badly to ask him what he had been doing, how he had been surviving all this time but another part of me didn't want to know. Not now or ever. He continued on. "Even Raziel that day... he didn't give any straight answers, but I think he saw this coming. I think he knew I would end up being changed and... you know... I think he was trying to tell me that it was OK. I think he was trying to say that some things seem weird or scary or alien or bad to us but they're not. It's not bad to be like this, Mom. It's just different." He stopped again and I knew he wasn't quite . This...," he indicated his own body, "...this is right. This body is strong and fast. I am unstoppable in the night." He leaned forward and shoved my arm a little, "And no one ever tries to make me wake up in the morning!" I couldn't help but laugh just a little. "I even like the hunger. I know that sounds so weird but there's something... I was so sure that I was going to die. I was sure that we were all going to die. But now I have this constant hunger in my belly, and it drives me to get up and to move and it reminds me that, even though I've changed, I'm not dead. We are not dead. And a wise woman told me once that, as long as there is life, there is hope."

"Is it very hard?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Yes. It's the hardest thing ever. I'm hungry every minute and I get... urges, you know?" He blushed deeply. "It's hard, but it's not impossible."

Michael shook his head. "When, exactly, did you change from a wise guy into a young man of wisdom?"

Donovan looked chagrined.

In his way, Raziel appeared. "It's good to see you with your family, Donovan."

"Thanks. It's good to be here."

"I need to talk to you, Simone," he said to me.

I hated that he was there. I never wanted to see him again. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want any of this anymore. I was proud of my son. He was showing us all that he was a youth of extraordinary character. As a vampire, his physical appearance would change rapidly now, into that of a full-grown man. It seemed his spirit was developing just as fast. I wanted nothing more than to milk the goats and collect eggs from the chickens, and watch my boy's life unfold before him. Everything had changed for him. He was alive and it was possible that he would continue to live for a thousand more years before crossing to the other side.

"You knew he was alive?" I asked.

"I did," He said.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"If you had gone in search of him, everything we have worked for would have been lost."

I wanted to smack his too-perfect face. I fought to keep my voice even as I announced the decision I'd made as soon as I'd seen him.

"Simone...," his eyes were filled with desperate sadness, but not surprise. He'd known I was going to say this.

"No, Raziel. I don't want to talk to you. I'm talking to my family. I quit. I won't let Acedia win. I'll stand for what'sright. I'll live out everything I've preached. I'llgive up my life caring for these," I said, indicating the compound and all the people it contained, each of whom I loved. "I will not turn my back on the Light, but I won't be The Prophet any more. I won't let this destroy my heart and mind. I'm going to go back to being just a mom. It was the greatest thing I ever was. Please go now."

At that moment the Power left me completely. Thebuilt-up pressure that I'd been fighting to contain was gone, replaced by total relief, and emptiness. The Power was gone, and I was glad to see it go. I pulled the covering off my head and looked at my family with unshielded eyes.

My husband wept unabashedly.

"Are you ashamed of me?" I asked him, terrified that he would say yes. He didn't say anything at all. He reached out and cupped my face in his hands and looked at me for a long time. He studied every feature and then he kissed me on the forehead, the eyes, the cheeks, and finally on my lips before pulling me in to his chest and holding me there in a crushing embrace. After a long moment, I felt him pull Donovan close to us. Now that the Light, with whatever allure it held for him was gone, he was able to be near me and touch me and still maintain control. It was the happiest I had felt in a very, very long time.