"Change into mist?"
"I've never even met a shapeshifter who could do that."
Poppy thumped the bed with her heel. "And obviously we don't have to sleep in coffins."
"No, and we don't need native earth, either. Myself, I prefer a Sealy Posturepedic, but if you'd like some dirt ..."
Poppy elbowed him. "Urn, can we cross running water?"
"Sure. And we can walk into people's homes with out being invited, and roll in garlic if we don't mind losing friends.
Anything else?"
"Yes. Tell me about the Night World ." It was her home now.
"Did I tell you about the dubs? We have clubs in every big city. In a lot of small ones, too." "What kind of dubs?"
"Well, some are just dives, and some are like cafes, and some are like nightclubs, and some ar e like lo dges-those are mostly for adults. I know one for kids that's just a big old warehouse with skate ramps built in. You can hang out and skateboard.
And there are poetry slams every week at the Black Iris."
Black iris, Poppy thought. That reminded her of something.
Something unpleasant ...
What she said was, "That's a funny name."
"All the dubs are named for flowers. Black flowers are the symbols of the Night People." He rotated his wrist to show her his watch. An analog watch, with a black iris in the center of the face. "See?"
"Yeah. You know, I noticed that black thing, but I never really looked at it before. I think I assumed it was Mickey Mouse."
He rapped her lightly on the nose in reproof. "This is serious business, kid. One of these will identify you to other Night People-even if they're as stupid as a werewolf.'I
:You don't like werewolves?"
"They're great if you like double-digit IQs."
"But you let them in the dubs."
"Some dubs. Night People may not marry out of their own kind, but they all mix: lamia, made vampires, werewolves, both kinds of witches ..." Pop py, who had been p laying at intertwining their fingers in different ways, shifted curiously.
"What's both kinds of witches?"
"Oh . . . there's the kind that know about their heritage and have been trained, and the kind that don't. That second kind are what humans call psychics. Sometimes they just have latent powers, and some of them aren't even psychic enough to find the Night World, so they don't get in."
Poppy nodded. "Okay. Got it. But what if a human walks into one of those dubs?"
"Nobody would let them. The dubs aren't what you'd call conspicuous, and they're always guarded."
"But if they did ..."
James shrugged. His voice was suddenly bleak. "They'd be killed. Unless somebody wanted to pick them up as a toy or pawn. That means a human who's basically brainwashed-who lives with vampires but doesn't know it because of the mind control. Sort of like a sleepwalker. I had a nanny once. .." His voice trailed off, and Poppy could feel his distress.
"You can tell me about it later." She didn't want him ever to be hurt again.
"M'm." He sounded sleepy. Poppy settled herself more comfortably against him.
It was amazing, considering her last experience going to sleep, that she could even shut her eyes.
But she could. She was with her soulmate, so what could go wrong? Nothing could hurt her here.
Phil was having trouble shutting his eyes.
Every time he did, he saw Poppy. Poppy asleep in the casket, Poppy watching him with a hungry cat's gaze. Poppy lifting her head from that guy's throat to show a mouth stained as if she'd been eating berries.
She wasn't human anymore.
And just because he'd known all along that she wouldn't be didn't make it any easier to accept.
He couldn't-he couldn't--condone jumping on people and tearing up their throats for dinner. And he wasn't sure that it was any better to charm people and bite them and then hypnotize them to forget it. The whole system was scary on some deep level.
Maybe James had been right humans just couldn't deal with the idea that there was somebody higher on the food chain. They'd lost touch with their caveman ancestors, who knew what it was like to be hunted. They thought all that primal stuff was behind them.
Could Phillip tell them a thing or two.
The bottom line was that he couldn't accept, and Poppy couldn't change. And the only thing that made it bearable was that somehow he loved her anyway.
Poppy woke in the dim, curtained bedroom the next day to find the other half of the bed empty. She wasn't alarmed, though. Instinctively she reached out with her mind, and . . .
there. James was in the kitchenette.
She felt ... energetic. Like a puppy straining to be let loose in a field. But as soon as she walked into the living room, she felt that her powers were weaker. And her eyes hurt. She squinted toward the painful brightness of a window.
"It's the sun," James said. "Inhibits all vampire powers, remember? " He we nt over to the window and dosed the curtains-they were the blackout type, like the ones in the bedroom. The midafternoon sunshine was cut off. "That should help a little-but you'd better stay inside today until it gets dark.
New vampires are more sensitive."
Poppy caught something behind his words. "You're going out?"
"I have to." He grimaced. "There's something I forgot my cousin Ash is supposed to show up this week. I've got to get my parents to head him off."
"I didn't know you had a cousin."
He winced again. "I've got lots, actually. They're back East in a safe town-a whole town that's controlled by the Night World.
Most of them are okay, but not Ash."