Night of the Vampires by Heather Graham

speaking to me, or I’m done.”
    Lisette had her hands on her hips as she stared at him; no one would mistake them for lovers at that point.
    â€œI forget. You’re one of them,” she said. “Texas!” She nearly spit out the word.
    â€œHumanity,” he said flatly. “Look, are you going to tell me where we stand and what’s needed, or are you going to spout political rhetoric?”
    â€œThe South will lose!”
    He lowered his head for a minute. “Yes. Eventually. The blockades grow tighter, and for every Federal killed, another steps off a ship from another country, barely speaking English, ready to die like a canary sent into the coal mine of freedom. I’m done talking, Lisette. Tell me what you want, but, please, make no more references tothe evil of Texas and my brethren. Just tell me where we are with the trauma at hand.”
    She pursed her lips with displeasure. “You did well last night. Extremely well. But we know that a number of the creatures escaped.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œHave you seen the paper this morning?”
    He shook his head. “No.”
    She reached into her bag and produced the morning’s newspaper, unfolding it so that he could see the headline—Murder on Florida Avenue.
    He took it from her hands and read the article. A Joshua Brandt, his wife, mother and two servants had been found dead. The bodies, white as sheets, had been discovered strewn about the house.
    Â 
    B REAKFAST HAD LONG been cleared away. Martha had gone to be with her children. Alex had tactfully taken Brendan for a “constitutional” walk. And Megan sat with Cody in the parlor, sensing what was coming next.
    â€œYou knew about me all your life?” he asked her.
    She shook her head. “No, not all my life. But I knew about my father. Well, when I was young, my mother would tell me that he’d been a wonderful man, but that he didn’t stay long in one place. That he…that he had a quest in life, and that his quest was important and undertaken for the sake of all humanity. I never saw our father. I was born in North Carolina, where my mother had friends. I would tell the children that I played with at parties and so on that my father was a great man, but when I was about six, I think, one of the older boys told me that my father was a drifter and I was a bastard. Shortly after, we movedto Richmond, my mother married a fine man named Andrew Jennison and my life went on from there.”
    She had barely finished speaking when the door opened and Cole stepped in. The woman, Lisette Annalise, was not with him. Megan had to admit she was glad. She didn’t like Cole Granger and she liked him less alongside the actress who seemed to think she was the Army of the Potomac.
    Cole looked at them then closed the door carefully. He walked over to Cody, placing a newspaper on his lap.
    Cody groaned.
    â€œWhat is it?” she asked.
    â€œThe plague at the prison might have been stopped, but we didn’t get them all,” he replied.
    Megan stood and hurried over to Cody’s side, brushing past the solid granite that was Cole Granger, and looked down at the giant headline on the newspaper.
    â€œAt least it’s not—Battlefield at Antietam, at Gettysburg, the Wilderness…Tens of Thousands Dead,” she said weakly, looking for something positive to say.
    â€œHow many do you think made it out?” Cody asked Cole.
    â€œCan’t be many. But even one is enough.”
    Cody exhaled. “Well, hopefully, the ones who escaped were new, young vampires that will need rest by daylight. But where?” he asked softly, frowning.
    â€œSt. Paul’s, Rock Creek—Prospect Hill?” Megan suggested. The former, a Colonial church, had quite an impressive burial ground. The latter was a large expanse, fairly new, but with many plots sold. “Oak Hill Cemetery? And beyond. The law stipulated not so long ago that