As if capitulating, she walked toward the observatory door, hands in her gym suit pockets. Titus followed and was arms length from her when she turned, and thrust a large silver crucifix in his face.

He backed away, trying to focus his eyes. She took it for aversion and shoved the object up against his nose.

Reflexively, his hands clasped the crucifix. Bright beauty sizzled through his every nerve, stiffening his body as high voltage current would. Forgetting everything, he drank it in as thirstily as if it were blood. A strange ecstasy stole over him. Transfixed, he heard music so sweet he needed to cry. He was filled by an indescribable scent and laughter bubbled through his veins.

In one instant, he was totally consumed and reborn.

The current spent, he drooped, leaning on a desk, propping himself on stiff arms. His head lolled onto his chest as he gulped air. Every vampire sense was alive in him. Inea was a redolent human warmth, the cavernous lab echoed empty, and he felt the distant throb of humanity throughout the dome.

“So you did lie.” Inea’s voice was ripe with grief.

Dizzy, he yearned for time to assimilate the precious gift that had flowed into him, the strength he so desperately needed. “Inea, I didn’t lie,” he insisted wearily. “Give me the cross.” He groped vaguely in her direction.

She approached, holding it before her like a shield, waiting for him to wither in its light. But it had spent itself. He took it from her taut grip and held it to his lips, feeling her warmth still in the pure silver.

Turning, he sat on the desk corner. He cradled the cross in his hands and smiled up at her. “Thank you. But I can’t imagine where you found this.”

“There’s a Catholic chaplain over in the other dome. He loaned it to me.” She added in a small voice, “It almost killed you. Why are you sitting there holding it as if it was your greatest treasure?”

At that, he laughed, a pure spontaneous celebration.

“Because it is! Or was.” For the first time in days, his hunger had gnawing at him, and he felt he could face down Abbot himself, if necessary. “Listen. I told you I’m not afraid of religious objects of any sort, and that’s the truth. But a charge such as this one held is rare. It takes a priest of great purity and power to consecrate anything like that-and it’s silver.”He was dabbling at the edges of metaphysics. There was no rational reason why silver would hold such a charge while other materials didn’t.

Perhaps this one had been charged recently?

“Silver bullets are supposed to kill your kind.”

“Sure. Any kind of bullets will if they hit a vital spot. Myths. The power stored in this cross discharged into me, in the most exquisite-”

“You mean it was good? A pleasure?”

“A pleasure I could crave endlessly.”

“How could a legend get so twisted?”

“Easy. You saw how it disabled me. Even you thought you’d killed me. If you’d run in terror, you’d have been convinced you’d vanquished me-wouldn’t you?”

“And that you were too evil to abide a symbol of good.”

He nodded, watching her work it through. Then he said, curiously, “But you’re not Catholic. Surely there must be chaplains of other faiths here? Why did you choose-”

“But Catholics are the ones who train exorcists and”-her eyes went to the crucifix he fondled-“I guess you passed that test. On the other hand, I have only your word for it that you’d welcome another Catholic whammy.”

Catholic whammy? “How about Jewish? See if you can find a kosher mezuzah somewhere and throw that at me.”

“You serious? Or are you just doing Brer Rabbit begging not to be thrown into the briar patch?”

He rose, his legs able to hold him now. Brusquely, he told her, “It was your test. You ought to be satisfied. But next time, please give me a couple of seconds warning.” He handed over the crucifix. “Take this back to the chaplain and tell him it ought to be reconsecrated. If he was the one who charged it in the first place, it’ll work again.”

She held it by the long shaft. “That wouldn’t prove anything. It didn’t prove anything this time.”

“Is that my fault? I’m very tired of this game.”

“So am I. I thought this would settle it. I honestly didn’t expect you to react at all. You did tell me you didn’t fear religious objects!”

“And I don’t!” he snapped, then realized it was his sexual frustration driving him. “I’m sorry. Everything I’ve told you is true. But I haven’t told you everything there is to tell. I never said I had.”

“I’ve yet to uncover one piece of concrete evidence to substantiate your story.”

“I doubt you ever will. Whatever you observe, Inea, you’ll be able to find another explanation.”

“Years ago, you taught me about Occam’s Razor-that the least complex explanation usually turns out to be true. Why assume you’re a vampire when human tricks can account for everything you do?”

“Why would I insist on this wild tale when I could let you believe me human and take you to bed right away?”

Reaching, she suggested, “Because you’re crazy?”

“Your hypothesis is getting complex. Think about that. Then go find the holographic equipment I snuck in and installed in your room during the few hours I was on Luna before you invited me there. You saw the bat form. You believed it. You’re not that easy to trick.”

“True.” She sighed. “I’ll devise something definitive, and I promise it won’t be silver bullets. I don’t want to hurt you.” She sidled past him, planting a shy kiss on his cheek that left him as limp as the crucifix’s charge had. And the joy that came in the wake of her kiss was almost as potent.

That night, he slept cherishing the memory of that single, voluntary kiss. He hardly dared imagine what it would be like when she finally took him to her bed.

On Abbot’s last day of work in the lab, the shipment from Luna Station arrived, escorted from the docks by three rough-cut Brink’s guards commanded by Suzy Langton. There was one huge crate and two smaller ones, which were waist high on Titus.

When they broke the seals under the watchful gaze of security, they discovered the larger one contained all the parts they’d expected. The other two crates carried a variety of items shipped from Earth just after Titus’s group had left.

While the others were picking over the bounty in the large crate, Titus took the crowbar to the other two, and discovered to his great relief that nestled among bottles of B&J High Purity Solvent which Titus hadn’t ordered were a few dozen small packets of dark crystalline powder labelled B&J Additives. Connie had shipped him blood to replace what had been stolen. She must have acted instantly.

As he leaned over, his upper body jackknifed into the crate, Titus felt Abbot approach. Before he could hide the evidence, his father peered down into the crate.

But it was a Brink’s man who bent over Abbot’s shoulder and asked in a deceptively soft Southern accent, “What have you got there? Powdered solvent? I didn’t know there was such a thing, but it surely doesn’t belong here. Hey, Suzy!”

Everyone followed Suzy over to the smaller crate.

Titus realized he should have cloaked his actions when he opened the crate. He could have removed the packets to his office without anyone noticing. Now it was too late.

Shimon plucked up one of the bags and tossed it from hand to hand. “Odd stuff. Whose do you suppose it is?”

Titus’s eyes met Abbot’s, hardly daring to plead.

Abbot inspected Titus with a sardonic smile. Then he shrugged and finessed the packet out of Shimon’s hands. “I’ll find out who it belongs to and take care of it.” He spoke to the Israeli, but his attention swept the crowd as he insisted with powerful Influence, “It can’t be important.”

Titus added his Influence, summoning all his power and trying to emulate his father’s tightly leashed control. “It’s trivial―Abbot and I will take care of it. You can all safely forget it.”