"My life for the past forty years has been good," Roff declared, breaking Kifirin's spell.
"Yes, it has," Kifirin acknowledged. "Before that, things were not so good. They call the comesuli common demons on my planet," Kifirin explained. "Many of the High Demons became corrupt and they mistreated the comesuli, though the comesuli tended the crops and herds and made sure the High Demons did not starve."
"They became lovers of themselves," Roff huffed.
"Roff, don't ever think you're a common anything," I said, leaning forward and giving him a smile. He smiled widely back and gave me another kiss before settling me on his shoulder again.
"Roff and his family are most certainly not common," Kifirin said. "They are one of two families that are winged Infilathi. They were always selected to become vampire because they developed wings with the turn. The winged ones were honorable and much admired."
"You have wings?" I sat up and stared at Roff in amazement.
"If I am turned," he nodded solemnly. "My ancestors were all winged vampires and much respected." I was duly impressed. I wanted to see a winged vampire, I think.
"When the High Demons called the comesuli common demons," Kifirin said, "it was an attempt to make the comesuli a part of themselves, when nothing could be farther from the truth. Comesuli are and always have been the young of the vampire race. Unfortunately, it is necessary for a mature vampire to turn them at the proper time in order for them to gain their true majority."
"Tonight has certainly been educational," I said. Roff pulled me back to his shoulder. I was comfortable there. So was he.
* * *
Sixty-nine-year-old Everett Hancock hit the mute button on his television remote; someone was ringing the doorbell of his small, two-bedroom home in Youngstown, Ohio. He wondered if it were his neighbor again, dropping by to ask more questions about his son Anthony and about Tony's death in France. He'd already talked to Corinne, Tony's mother, shortly after the bombing; the government had declared his son dead. Killed in the line of duty, the vice president said when he called.
Everett had been in the military in his younger days; was retired Army, actually. He'd seen Viet Nam and a few other places. Tony had gone with his mother when they'd divorced; Everett couldn't handle her disappearing one night a month and going off to run with who knew what. Everett had been home on leave when Tony was conceived—Corinne had written to let him know a few months after he'd gone back to Germany where he was stationed. Tony was born while he was away, too, and was four months old when Everett came home.
He and Corinne had done nothing but fight after he gotten home; she'd accused him of ignoring her to stay an extra three months in Germany, and he'd shouted about her stupid werewolf habits. Corinne packed her bags after the last blow-up, taking herself and Tony right out the door. Ran right off and married one of those damned wolves. Everett snorted at the memory as he opened the door.
"What the hell do you want?" Everett didn’t recognize the two men who stood there. They were dressed in nice suits and ties, though. Probably from the church, wanting him to accept salvation or something.
"I am Christopher Townsend," one of the visitors said. "You will come with us." Everett opened his storm door and followed Mr. Townsend right out to a waiting car. The other man who'd been standing next to Christopher Townsend slipped inside the house, grabbed Everett's keys and locked the door behind him as he left. He followed his partner out to the car, where Everett was already sitting in the back seat. Special Agent White was dialing his cell phone as Special Agent Townsend put the car in gear and drove away. The phone rang on the other end and was answered.
"We have him," Special Agent Kenneth White said and hung up.
* * *
Everett looked around curiously, as he was led into a basement—Mr. Townsend and Mr. White had driven him to Pittsburgh and stopped at a house there. Everett still didn't understand why he'd willingly come with them and hadn't attempted to object. It just seemed that whenever Mr. Townsend told Everett to do something, Everett thought it was a good idea.
"Are you hungry, Mr. Hancock?" Mr. White asked. Everett looked at the other man. He and Mr. Townsend looked young to him—younger than his son, who'd been thirty-six when he'd died.
"I could eat," Everett nodded.
"What would you like?"
"Oh, a piece of chicken, maybe a sandwich." Everett didn't care. The doctor was always on him to lower his cholesterol. Nowadays Everett ignored that warning and ate what he wanted. Nobody was going to live forever, after all.
"A chicken sandwich, maybe?" Mr. Townsend asked.
"Yeah. With fries." Mr. White went back upstairs.
"You will stay here, Mr. Hancock," Mr. Townsend showed Everett a bedroom. "There is a bathroom there, too, if you need to go." Chris Townsend showed Everett where the bath and shower were inside his bedroom. "You will not attempt to leave and you will do what Mr. White and I tell you." Everett nodded.
* * *
"Albert, they have him at the safe house in Pittsburgh," Charles spoke quietly into his cell. "Wlodek wants you to check to see if he has mindspeech."
"I can be there tomorrow; I'm in New York now," Albert replied.
"Let us know as soon as you can so we can make a decision," Charles said.
"Of course," Albert agreed and hung up.
* * *
"Take one or two nice outfits; the rest can be clothes you wouldn't mind working in. Just everyday stuff," I sat on Roff's bed as he folded clothing and placed it in his borrowed suitcase. Franklin and Greg had bought jeans, shirts, shoes and other necessary items for Roff and Giff. Both were quite happy with their new wardrobe.
"Where will we be staying?" Roff asked, folding a pullover shirt.
"I don’t know yet. Maybe hotels or safe houses," I said. "Do you have pajamas or something to sleep in?"
"I have pajamas, but prefer to only wear the lower half," he informed me.
"That's not unusual," I told him. I helped him pack shampoo and the soap he liked.
"It was not this complicated to make the pilgrimage to Baetrah," Roff muttered, zipping his suitcase.
"What is Baetrah?" I asked.
"Baetrah is the volcano on Kifirin's planet. The comesuli go there and ask Kifirin to take us back to Le-Ath Veronis."
"You can ask him in person," I smiled at Roff.
"You think we have not done this? He was not always available, you know. Only recently did he come to me and my family, offering us a place with you, along with the promise that if we worked hard, Le-Ath Veronis would again be inhabited by vampires and comesuli."