The bullets were low caliber. There were no exit wounds and Vox’s body was solid enough to withstand the foot-pounds of impact. He stayed there on his knees for three full seconds before he canted backward and collapsed onto the floor.

Mr. Church laid the pistol on the table and folded his hands in his lap.

He did not move at all for over an hour.

(6)

Dr. Rudy Sanchez sat next to Dr. Circe O’Tree in the Basilica di San Giovanni in Laterano. It was midafternoon, and a tour group was following a guide up a side aisle as the man droned on about how this church had been burned, sacked, ravaged by earthquakes, and rebuilt several times over the years. Circe had her eyes closed, listening to her own thoughts, but Rudy eavesdropped on the guide. The story seemed appropriate to all that had happened.

“It’s different,” Circe said quietly and Rudy turned in surprise, wondering how the comment fit the speech.

“What?”

“The world,” she said. “It’s different.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding.

“Today and tomorrow and from now on. It’s different.” Circe wiped away a tear.

“I know.”

The tour guide moved off toward reliquaries containing bones of dead saints, his flock following, cameras flashing.

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.”

“The dark isn’t the dark anymore. There are things in it.” Circe bared her teeth in an almost feral snarl. “I don’t want it to be real.”

“No.”

“But it is.”

“Yes.”

“Vampires,” she said. “God help us.”

Rudy wrapped his arm around her and held her close and looked up at the statues of the holy people who were supposed to keep them all safe.

“Dios mio,” he whispered.

(7)

The bishop and the gathered priests stood in the multicolored rays of light which slanted down through the tall stained glass windows. The bishop stood in the Great Entrance of the Liturgy, flanked by assisting priests, watching as the young candidate for ordination came forward, carrying the Aër—chalice veil—over his head, following the procession of other members of this holy event.

The bishop took the Aër from the candidate and covered the chalice and diskos with it. A priest brought a chair for the bishop to sit in, setting it in front and to the left of the Holy Table.

Two priests flanked the candidate and brought him through the Holy Doors, escorting him three times around the altar, allowing the young man to pause and kiss each corner of the Holy Table. At the end of each circuit the candidate bent to kiss the bishop’s palitza and right hand. The priests guided him then to the southwest corner of the Holy Table. The young man knelt and rested his forehead on the table’s edge. The bishop then placed his omophor and right hand over the ordinand’s head and read the prayer of ordination.