Even, a little voice said inside me, if the stranger was beautiful and wealthy and politically astute?

No, I told myself stoutly. Not even then.

“Can you put yourself in my place?” Eric asked, chiming in on my thoughts. We knew each other pretty well, without the bond. He took my hand and held it between his cold ones.

“No, actually, I can’t,” I said, as evenly as I could manage. “I’ve been trying. But I’m not used to that sort of long-distance manipulation. Even after death, Appius is controlling you, and I just can’t picture myself in that position.”

“Americans,” Eric said, and I couldn’t decide if he said it admiringly or with a mild exasperation.

“Not just Americans, Eric.”

“I feel very old.”

“You are very old-fashioned.” He was ancient-fashioned.

“I can’t ignore a signed document,” he said, almost angrily. “He made an agreement for me, and I was his to order. He created me.”

What could I say, in the face of such conviction? “I’m so glad he’s dead,” I told Eric, not caring that my bitterness was written on my face. Eric looked sad, or at least regretful, but there was nothing else to say. Eric didn’t mention spending what was left of the night with me, which was smart on his part.

After he left, I began checking all the windows and doors in the house. Since so many people had been in and out that day and night, it seemed a good idea. I wasn’t too surprised to see Bill out in the yard when I was locking the kitchen window over the sink.

Though he didn’t beckon to me, I took my weary self outside.

“What has Eric done to you?” he said.

I condensed the situation into a few sentences.

“What a dilemma,” Bill said, not totally displeased.

“So you’d feel the way Eric does?”

In an eerie echo, Bill took my hand just as Eric had earlier. “Not only did Appius already enter negotiations, so there are presumably legal documents on the table, but also I would have to give my maker’s wishes some consideration—as much as I hate to acknowledge that. You have no idea how strong the bond is. The years spent with one’s maker are the most important years of a vampire’s existence. As loathsome as I found Lorena, I have to admit that she did her best to teach me to be an effective vampire. Looking back on her life now—Judith and I talked about this, of course—Lorena betrayed her own maker, and then had years and years to regret it. The guilt drove her mad, we think.”