Killer laughed under his breath. “It used to seem so easy,” he said, “back when I was making members of the old Fang Gang, but now the filth and the rabble and the trash are everywhere, and even if you make them, they’ll turn on you, rob you, betray you, and take off with someone else. I tell you these massacres have to come. They have to. There’s bad dudes selling the Blood. Can you believe? Selling the Blood. Least they were. I expect they’re played out too and running for their lives now like everybody else.”

Again Killer begged Antoine to stay with him.

“For all we know, Armand and Louis and Lestat are all in this together,” Killer said. “Maybe they’re all doing it, the big heroes of the Vampire Chronicles. But these things have to happen, like I said. I know this is what Benji thinks, but he won’t say it. He can’t. But this is worse than before. Can you hear them, the voices? There was a Burning last night in Kathmandu. Think about it, man. It’s going to move across India, whoever’s doing it, and then into the Middle East. It’s worse than the last time. It’s being more thorough. I can sense it. I remember. I know.”

Tearfully, they parted a short way southeast of New York. Killer wouldn’t go any farther. Benji’s broadcast the night before had confirmed Killer’s worst fears. There had been no direct witnesses to the Burning when it hit Kolkata. Vampires for hundreds of miles caught images of the immolation. They were fleeing west.

“All right, if you’re determined to go through with this,” said Killer. “I’ll tell you what I know. Armand and the others live in a mansion on the Upper East Side half a block from Central Park. It’s three townhouses linked together, and each one’s got a door to the street. There are little Greek columns on each little porch and big limbed trees growing out front surrounded by little skirts of iron.

“These townhouses are maybe five stories high and they’ve got these fancy little iron balconies up high on the windows that aren’t balconies at all.”

“I know what you mean,” said Antoine gratefully. He was picking up the images from Killer’s mind, but it seemed rude to say so.