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place. Pumps the blood, everything. Perfect setup for a creature that thrives on drinking blood."
    The feratu hopped off the blonde's head and scuttled toward Jonah. He backed away and glanced behind him, sizing up his escape route.
    "Two ways it can make you a vampire," said Stanza. "One, it infects your bloodstream with its babies through the bite of a host. Two..."
    Suddenly, the feratu scrambled forward with a burst of speed. Adrenaline surged through Jonah's body, and he started to run.
    That was when Stanza fired the machine gun. The feratu danced in a hail of ironwood-tipped bullets, exploding in a flash of flesh and fangs and fur and blood.
    When the thing had been blown to sufficiently tiny bits, Stanza released the trigger. "Two, it jumps on you, burrows in through your urinary tract, and eats its way to your heart."
    "Geez." Jonah was shaking. He tried to stop looking at the gruesome mess on the alley floor. "Ever hear the expression 'too much information?'"
    "More on the way, Jonah." Stanza gazed up at the rooftops on either side of the alley. "They're hunting you. In force. They need you."
    Jonah stared at her. "That's what the vampire said. 'We need you.'"
    "Sure you're not up for some travel?" said Stanza.
    "What makes you think I'll be any safer traveling than staying put?" said Jonah.
    "They know where to find you now." Stanza kicked at the shredded remains of the feratu . "Wouldn't a moving target be harder to hit?"
    Jonah frowned. "You're leaving when?"
    "Right now," said Stanza. "Trust me, they're already closing in on you."
    Jonah shook his head. "Mom and Dad's funeral is tomorrow."
    "Would they rather have you alive or undead? What do you think?" Stanza marched over and lifted the dead vampire's head by her bloody blonde hair. The head tore away, and the rest of the corpse slumped to the pavement. "This isn't a joke, Jonah. Want to end up like her?"
    Jonah shifted his weight from one foot to the other. What he really wanted to do was run, all right...run away from Stanza and the blonde and the feratu and the funeral and everything. Just start over without all the noise.
    "I need to think about it," said Jonah.
    "There's no time." Stanza tossed the head aside and stomped over to stare him in the eye. "We've got to leave now ."
    "And go where?" said Jonah. "What's the first stop?"
    "Church, of course." Stanza smiled. "Where did you think?"
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    *****
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    Chapter 4
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    "And so the hunt begins." James watched from his perch on the rooftop ledge as Stanza and Jonah ran from the alley far below. "'Neath a moon so full and low it fairly reeks of mortal sins." James looked over his shoulder. "How's that?"
    His companion nodded from within the hood of his cloak. "Very pretty, James. You may yet find that poetic immortality you seek."
    James, who as a vampire was older than the ten-year-old boy he appeared to be, bowed to the man in the hood. "I am nothing without you, master."
    The hooded man patted James' shoulder. "And I am fortunate to have found a friend and apprentice like you in this dark and sour life."
    This life of madness.
    Somewhere, deep in his soul, the hooded man felt a pang of longing for the life he had lost. That ancient life that felt at least twice as many centuries ago as it actually was.
    That glorious life, all sawdust and sunburn, of which this moment on the rooftop was but a pale imitation. A sad facsimile tasting of ashes and heartbreak.
    If I but had a heart instead of a monster in its place.
    The hooded man placed a hand upon his left breast. Instead of the rhythmic beat he'd known long ago, he felt the constant grinding of the creature's teeth, gnashing in ceaseless hunger.
    This is not a song. They call it so, but it is not.
    Only mindless and meaningless, it is, lacking both reason and rhyme. Bringing but suffering and desperation in the guise of a miracle.
    If only I had the will to tear it from my chest, still squirming and screaming, and with my last breath cast it to its