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“Of course you do, my darling,” the maenad crooned. “Shall I find out for you?”

“Please,” he begged.

“All right.” She scanned the people, and crooked her finger at Eggs. Tara held on to his arm to try to keep him with her, but he lurched down the steps and over to the maenad, grinning foolishly all the while.

“Are you a girl?” Eggs asked.

“Not by any stretch of the imagination,” Callisto said. “You have had a lot of wine.” She touched him with the thyrsis.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed. He wasn’t smiling anymore. He looked into Callisto’s eyes, and he shivered and shook. Her eyes were glowing. I looked at Bill, and saw he had his own eyes focused on the ground. Eric was looking at the hood of his car. Ignored by everyone, I began to crawl toward Bill.

This was a fine kettle of fish.

The dog paced beside me, nosing me anxiously. I felt he wanted me to move faster. I reached Bill’s legs and gripped them. I felt his hand on my hair. I was scared to make the large movement of rising to my feet.

Callisto wrapped her thin arms around Eggs and began to whisper to him. He nodded and whispered back. She kissed him, and he went rigid. When she left him to glide over to the deck, he stood absolutely still, staring into the woods.

She stopped by Eric, who was closer to the deck than we were. She looked him up and down, and smiled that terrifying smile again. Eric looked at her chest fixedly, careful not to meet her eyes. “Lovely,” she said, “just lovely. But not for me, you beautiful piece of dead meat.”

Then she was up amongst the people on the deck. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of drinking and sex. She sniffed as if she were following a trail, and then she swung to face Mike Spencer. His middle-aged body did not fare well in the chilly air, but Callisto seemed delighted with him.

“Oh,” she said as happily as though she’d just gotten a present, “you’re so proud! Are you a king? Are you a great soldier?”

“No,” Mike said. “I own a funeral home.” He didn’t sound too sure. “What are you, lady?”

“Have you ever seen anything like me before?”

“No,” he said, and all the others shook their heads.

“You don’t remember my first visit?”

“No, ma’am.”

“But you’ve made me an offering before.”

“I have? An offering?”

“Oh, yes, when you killed the little black man. The pretty one. He was a lesser child of mine, and a fitting tribute for me. I thank you for leaving him outside the drinking place; bars are my particular delight. Could you not find me in the woods?”

“Lady, we didn’t make no offering,” Tom Hardaway said, his dark skin all over goose pimples and his penis gone south.

“I saw you,” she said.

Everything fell silent then. The woods around the lake, always full of little noises and tiny movements, became still. I very carefully rose to my feet beside Bill.

“I love the violence of sex, I love the reek of drink,” she said dreamily. “I can run from miles away to be there for the end.”

The fear pouring out of their heads began to fill mine up, and run out. I covered my face with my hands. I threw up the strongest shields I could fashion, but I could still barely contain the terror. My back arched, and I bit my tongue to keep from making a sound. I could feel the movement as Bill turned to me, and then Eric was by his side and they were both mashing me between them. There is not a thing erotic about being pressed between two vampires under those circumstances. Their own urgent desire for my silence fed the fear, because what would frighten vampires? The dog pressed against our legs as if he offered us protection.

“You hit him during sex,” the maenad said to Tom. “You hit him, because you are proud, and his subservience disgusted and excited you.” She stretched her bony hand to caress Tom’s dark face. I could see the whites of his eyes. “And you”—she patted Mike with her other hand—“you beat him, too, because you were seized with the madness. Then he threatened to tell.” Her hand left Tom and rubbed his wife, Cleo. Cleo had thrown on a sweater before she went out, but