"There was time, at least in my mind. He did not put a time limit on me."
"You destroyed the others centuries ago."
He watches me. "You are very beautiful."
"Thank you."
"It warmed my heart to know your beauty still existed somewhere in the world." He pauses. "Why do you ask these questions? You know I didn't kill you because I love you."
"Do you still love me?"
"Of course."
"Then let me go."
"I cannot. I am sorry, Sita, truly."
"Is it so important to you that you die in his grace?"
Yaksha is grave. "It is why I came into this world. The Aghoran priest did not call me, I came of my own will. I knew Krishna was here. I came to get away from where I was. I came so that when I died I would be in that grace."
"But you tried to destroy Krishna?"
Yaksha shrugs as if that is not important. "The foolishness of youth."
"Was he God? Are you sure? Can we be sure?"
Yaksha shakes his head. "Even that does not matter. What is God? It is a word. Whatever Krishna was we both know he was not someone we can disobey. It is that simple."
I gesture to the waves. "Then the line has been drawn. The sea meets the shore. The infinite tells the finite what is supposed to be. I accept that. But you are faced with a problem. You do not know what Krishna said to me."
"I do. I have watched you long. The truth is obvious. He told you not to make another of your kind, and he would protect you."
"Yes. It is a paradox. If you try to destroy me, you will go against his word. If you do not try, then you are damned."
Yaksha is not moved by my words. He is a step ahead of me; he always was. He points to the house with his flute. Ray continues to stand beside the window, watchingus.
"I have watched you particularly close the last three days," he says. "You love this boy. You would not want to see him die."
My fear is a great and terrible thing in this moment. But I speak harshly. "If you use that as a threat to force me to destroy myself, then you will still lose Krishna's grace. It will be as if you struck me down with your own hands."
Yaksha does not respond with anger. Indeed, he does seem weary. "You misunderstand me. I will do nothing to you while you are protected by his grace. I will force you to do nothing." He gestures to the setting sun, "It takes a night to make a vampire. I am sure you remember. When the sun rises again, I will come back for you, for both of you. By then you should be done. Then you will be mine."
There is scorn in my voice. "You are a fool, Yaksha. The temptation to make another of our kind has come to me many times in the long years, and always I have resisted it. I will not forsake my protection. Face it, you are beaten. Die and return to the black hell from where you came."
Yaksha raises an eyebrow. "You know I am no fool, Sita. Listen."
He glances toward the house, at Ray, then raises the flute to his lips. He plays a single note, piercingly high. I shake with pain as the sound vibrates through my body. Behind us I hear glass break. No, not just glass. The window against which Ray is leaning. I turn in time to see him topple through the broken glass and plunge headfirst onto the concrete driveway sixty feet below. Yaksha grabs my arm as I move to run to him.
"I wish it did not have to be this way," he says.
I shake off his hand. "I have never loved you. You may yet have grace before you die, but you will never have that."
He closes his eyes briefly. "So be it," he says. I find Ray in a pool of blood and a pile of glass. His skull is crushed, his spine is broken. Incredibly, he is still conscious, although he does not have long to live. I roll him over on his back, and he speaks to me with blood pouring from his mouth. "I fell," he says.
My tears are as cold as the ocean drops on my cheeks. I put my hand over his heart. "This is the last thing I wanted for you." "Is he going to let you go?" "I don't know, Ray. I don't know." I lean over and hug him and hear the blood in his lungs as his breath struggles to scrape past it. Just as the breath of his father struggled before it failed. I remember I told themanthat I could not heal, that I could only kill. But thatwas only a half truth, I realize, even as I grasp thefullextent of Yaksha's plan to destroy me. Once he usedmy fear to make me a vampire. Now he uses myloveto force me to make another vampire. He is right,heis no fool. I cannot bear to watch Ray die knowingthe power in my blood can heal even his fatal injuries. "I wanted to save you," he whispers. He tries toraise a hand to touch me, but it falls back to theground. I sit up and stare into his mortal eyes, trying toput love into them, where for so many years with somanyother mortals I have only tried to put fear.
"I want to save you," I say. "Do you want me to save you?"
"Can you?"
"Yes. I can put my blood in your blood."
He tries to smile. "Become a vampire like you?"
I nod and smile through my tears. "Yes, you could become like me."
"Would I have to hurt people?"
"No. Not all vampires hurt people." I touch his ruined cheek. I haven't forgotten Yaksha's words about coming for both of us at dawn. "Some vampires love a great deal."
"I love ..." His eyes slowly close. He cannot finish.
I lean over and kiss his lips. I taste his blood.
I will have to do more than taste it to help him.
"You are love," I say as I open both our veins.
11
Ray's sleep is deep and profound, as I expect. I have brought him back to the house, and laid him in front of a fire I built, and wiped away his blood. Not long after his transfusion, while still lying crumpled on the driveway, his breath had accelerated rapidly, and then ceased altogether. But it had not scared me, because the same had happened to me, and to Mataji, and many others. When it had started again, it was strong and steady.
His wounds vanished as if by magic.
I am weak from sharing my blood, very tired.
I anticipate that Ray will sleep away most of the night, and that Yaksha will keep his word and not return until dawn. I leave the house and drive in my Ferrari to Seymour's place. It is not that lateten o'clock. I do not want to meet his parents. They might suspect I have come to corrupt their beloved son. I go around the back and see Seymour through his bedroom window, writing on his computer. I scratch on his window with my hard nails and give him a scare. He comes over to investigate, however. He is delighted to see me. He opens the window and I climb inside. Contrary to popular opinion, I could have climbed in without being invited.