I could understand the appeal. Christ, I’d wake up totally fucking aroused, like a part of me I couldn’t feel when I was awake not only enjoyed the things in those dreams, but got off on them.

“The pain of the blood, Abraham’s blood... it brought her out. It spoke to her like nothing I had ever allowed into my life. Once she woke up, she didn’t want to go back. She can’t take over... not yet. She has to wait until I’m asleep. But she can keep me out for longer and longer each time, and she can let me back in whenever she wants. She’s stronger than I am. She spends more and more time with my body. Eventually, what happens? I wake up next to a half-vampire I don’t even know, and find out that it’s my blood that did it.

“So that’s when I really knew. This body is Missy’s. I’m just along for the ride until she beats me back completely. Then I’ll be the dream, and maybe those will be her nightmares.”

Two opened her mouth to say something, and could think of nothing to say. Melissa wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t already know. She was simply admitting the truth to herself.

Melissa was crying now, unable to look at them. “When you first told me about Two, Theroen, you said you thought you would stay here maybe twenty years. Twenty years? I’m not sure you’ll last another twenty days. I could never read people like you could, and I could never read you... but I’ve been able to all the time for the last few weeks. Escape. Escape. It’s like a flashing neon sign in your head.

“And I can’t even f...fucking bring myself to hate you for it. Either of you. It’s not your fault, and I know it, and that makes it so hard.”

Theroen stirred. Two shifted her weight, allowing him to sit up. He looked at Melissa and when he spoke, his voice retained its nearly ever-present calm, but there was deep sympathy in it, and an almost heart-breaking sadness. “A hundred and twenty years, Melissa. It comes and goes like the wind, and I hate myself for all of this, even if you cannot.”

“Don’t.”

Theroen shrugged. It can’t be helped.

“I don’t want her to win, Theroen, but she’s going to.”

Two spoke up. “Does she have to? Is there any other way?”

Theroen answered her. “I don’t know, Two. We have little time to find out.”

“Why?”

“There are two things eating away from our time here, my own desire to leave not included. The first is Samantha. She will wake, soon, and that will force a decision on her fate. A minor matter, perhaps. Perhaps not. The second is Abraham, who has instructed me of his desires. He wants us gone, Two, the sooner the better. As Melissa said, we will not be here another twenty days, but not because of any desire on my part. He says he has grown tired of me. As for Missy, Samantha, Tori; he feels they are his, and when I do leave, it will be without them.”

Melissa made a quiet sobbing noise. She was not looking at them, was instead watching the silent images on the television.

“What if you killed Abraham?” Two stood up, paced back and forth a few times, then looked at Theroen. He raised his eyebrows, tilted his head slightly, said nothing.

“I’m serious. What would happen to you? To Melissa? To Tori and Samantha and me?”

“This is an unwise avenue of discussion.”

“Is he really that powerful? Is it impossible?”

“That and more. Abraham has studied long in vampire lore. He knows very well what he is capable of, and has pushed those boundaries further than perhaps any other living vampire. He revealed a rather startling talent to me last night, unwittingly I think, when he caught your breath. I knew that in close proximity, his power over others’ minds was significant, but I did not know that he could allow you full reign of your thoughts while cutting off access to otherwise involuntary functions. I do now know how to do that, do not know how he did it, and do not know how to fight it.”

“Okay, but suppose somehow he died. We can’t kill him. Fine. But say tomorrow Abraham... I don’t know... gets hit with a nuclear bomb and is turned to ashes. What would happen to us?”

“Us. Very well, Two. On a purely speculative basis -- as what you speak of is simply not a