“The blood banks in the rooms belowground …,” Viktor said.

“Adequate,” said Seth. “Seen to. All of it. Done. I just told you. Dr. Gilman is in charge, and no one will come up out of the cellars until she gives the word. Our beloved savants have their labs down there, their computers, their projects. They are as indifferent to fear as they are to anything pertaining to the world outside their own field. The electrical systems protecting them cannot fail. It would be flat-out ridiculous of the Voice to launch an attack on this location.”

“And the Voice is such a paragon of the reasonable and the effective,” said Viktor suddenly under his breath. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself, and Fareed realized suddenly how very tense and miserable Viktor was, and how excited also.

Viktor wore his usual short-sleeved white polo shirt and jeans, though he was carrying over his arm a soft brown suede jacket for the journey. He was a blond-haired young male in splendid health with a well-developed and muscular frame that was almost that of a man rather than a boy. But in this day and age a man might develop height and musculature until he was thirty. Viktor was six foot one, already one inch taller than his father.

“I’m sorry. Forgive me for interrupting,” Viktor said, with his usual courtesy. He’d been deferential to Seth and Fareed and his mother all his life.

“No one expects you to be indifferent to what’s happening,” Seth said gently. “But we’ve been through it. This is the way. This is our decision.”

Viktor nodded, but his eyes and complexion flashed with a warmth that no preternatural body could ever give forth. Fareed could hear Viktor’s accelerated pulse. He caught the faint scent of the sheen of sweat covering Viktor’s upper lip and forehead.

In the dim lunar light of the monitors Viktor looked so much like Lestat it was uncanny. He wasn’t angry as he looked at Fareed. In fact, it didn’t seem that Viktor had ever been angry in his entire short life with anyone. But he did look hurt and young and anxious. His unruly blond hair made him look more boyish than he was. It was long now, almost to his shoulders. And that is how the Vampire Lestat looked most of the time in videos, photos, and even the iPhone snapshots taken of him by vampire paparazzi in Paris.

“I beg you one more time, both of you,” Viktor said now in a trembling but rather deep voice, “to bring us over. Rose and me, bring us over! Do it before we make this journey to New York and you plant us, two helpless human beings, in a colony of the Undead.”