The stampede starts almost immediately as the crowd scatters, terrified Brights running from me as much as if I'd killed their leader after all. Ivan just stands there, staring at me, mouth hanging open now that his shriek of horror has faded into the night. He moves at last to reach for me, touch my hand.

"What have you done to me?" Gone is the make-believe voice, the affectation of a vampire he must have concocted from a variety of pop-culture icons. Instead he is just a ...