“What is to stop every blood drinker from making a multitude of other blood drinkers?” asked Viktor. “Before, everyone had agreed; no more making of blood drinkers until the Court had established some rules. But now? Without the problem of Amel, what’s to stop our ranks from increasing again until there are wars in the streets?”

Also Viktor wasn’t at all convinced the modern world would ignore the vampires forever as fictional. True, the bias against vampire beliefs in modern medicine was so widespread and rigid that any deviating scientist could be ruined for life. His own mother, Flannery, had been marginalized and destroyed because she had claimed to believe in the vampires. This was still happening to doctors and scientists in parts of the world. But Viktor said it couldn’t go on forever. Governments must be investigating. Somebody would round up evidence of the indisputable truth.

Seth said no. The Prince said no. “They’ll never believe in us any more than they believe in aliens from other planets or near-death experiences, or the existence of ghosts. And there is no indisputable truth. One doctor’s indisputable truth is another man’s fantastic lie.”

Fareed’s head ached. Too much to study; too many directions to take; too many questions; he lacked the discipline now that always upheld him in the past.

And Amel. What went on with Amel?

It was still possible to hear the voice of Amel as Lestat was hearing it—Fareed’s telepathic powers had always been considerable. Anytime he was close to Lestat he could eavesdrop. Unless the two wanted to be sealed up in solitude. Then no one could telepathically penetrate their exchanges any more now than before. When Amel wanted to be overheard, he made it obvious. He laughed; he raged; he screamed; he sang in the ancient tongue. When he didn’t, he spoke to Lestat alone.

Was all peace and harmony between the two of them?

Marius said no. Amel was gaining ever-greater ascendency over Lestat’s body. Lestat tried to conceal this. But Fareed knew it was true. Fareed could discern those brief periods when the Prince allowed Amel to take over—to lift a pen and scrawl innumerable pictographs over pages and pages of paper, or to pick up the cell phone and tap in with one thumb a number that only Amel knew.