"Premature," Shiro said. "Needed more time to be completely prepared. The advantage of surprise is gone. He wishes to strike once and be certain it is a lethal stroke."

I watched the little old man for a minute. "Everyone's got advice tonight. Why are you giving it?"

"Because in some ways you are every bit as arrogant as the Council, though you do not realize it. You blame yourself for what happened to Susan. You want to blame yourself for more."

"So what if I do?"

Shiro turned me and faced me squarely. I avoided meeting his eyes. "Duels are a test of fire. They are fought in the will. The heart. If you do not find your balance, Ortega will not need to kill you. You will do so for him."

"I guess you were a psychoanalyst before you were a sword-swinging vigilante against evil."

Shiro puffed on the cheroot. "Either way, been alive longer than you. See more than you."

"Like what?"

"Like this vampire warlord. How he manipulates you. He is not what he seems to be."

"Really? I've never seen that one before," I said. "Someone not what they appear to be. However will I adjust."

Shiro shrugged. "He is centuries old. He is not from the same world. The world Ortega lived in was savage. Brutal. Men like him destroyed entire civilizations for gold and glory. And for hundreds of years since then, he has fought rival vampires, demons, and enemies of his kind. If he approaches you through formal, civilized channels, it is because he thinks it is the best way to kill you. Regardless of what happens in the duel, he intends to see you dead by any means necessary. Maybe before. Maybe after. But dead."

Shiro didn't put any particular emphasis on the words. He didn't need to. They were enough to scare me without any added dramatics. I glowered at his cigar and said, "Those things will kill you."

The old man smiled again. "Not tonight."

"I'd think a good Christian boy wouldn't be puffing down the cigars."

"Technicality," Shiro said.

"The cigars?"

"My Christianity," Shiro said. "When I was a boy, I liked Elvis. Had a chance to see him in concert when we moved to California . It was a big revival meeting. There was Elvis and then a speaker and my English was not so good. He invited people backstage to meet the king. Thought he meant Elvis, so I go backstage." He sighed. "Found out later I had become a Baptist."

I barked out a laugh. "You're kidding."

"No. But it was done, so I tried not to be too bad at being Baptist." He rested a hand on the handle of his sword. "Then came into this. Made the whole thing more simple. I serve."

"Serve who?"

"Heaven. Or the divine in nature. The memory of my father’s past. My fellow man. Myself. All pieces of the same thing. Do you know the story of the blind men and the elephant?"