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gift,” Savhoran said. “Something we have made ourselves, put our thought and energy into.”
    “That’s nice. How do people react to that?”
    “We do not usually see their reactions.”
    Why was that? I decided I didn’t want to know the answer. The whole subject gave me the creeps, actually.
    A virtuous vampire. Hard to wrap my brain around that. Myths getting in the way, I figured. Caeran was right, they distorted my understanding.
    We reached my place, and Amanda shut off the engine. “I’ll walk you in. Be right back,” she said over her shoulder to Savhoran.
    She accompanied me to my door. I took out my keys.
    “Savhoran’s having a hard time,” she said quietly. “He’s still adjusting to living with this thing. It’s only been a few months since he manifested, so please, cut him some slack, OK?”
    “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to make him feel bad.”
    She sighed. I could see the worry in her face. “He’s thought about suicide.”
    Oh. Crap.
    “It’s a major danger for them—all of the ælven. More so if they’re unlucky enough to get hit with the curse.”
    Why? I could understand if they got the disease, but why would a healthy ælven consider suicide?
    “See you tomorrow.” Amanda said. “Want a ride? I could pick you up.”
    “Thanks, but it isn’t far. I’ll probably ride my bike.”
    “Then I’ll drive you home after.”
    “That’s not necessary.”
    “Yes it is. Either that, or one of them will escort you. Caeran doesn’t want any of us going out alone after dark, not while there’s an alben active in the area.”
    “Isn’t that kind of extreme?”
    “After you’ve been attacked a few times, you’ll feel differently.”
    I blinked. “How many times have you been attacked?”
    “Oh—four or five. It was kind of a vendetta, though. She fixated on me as a way to get back at the clan.”
    Great. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

 
     
= 4 =
    M y dreams that night were restless. Lomen was chasing me and I kept running away, even though I didn’t want to. Then I started chasing Savhoran. He ran into a barn and I followed, but it was dark and I tripped and fell into a pile of hay and couldn’t get up. I woke up frustrated and still tired. My brain was mush.
    The classes I had that day were Organic Chemistry Lab followed by its accompanying lecture class, both in Clark Hall. I’d never made it in to work on the lab assignment.
    I resisted the temptation to enter the building from the parking lot and thereby avoid the spot where I’d found Kimberly. I decided that looking at it without a dead body there would give me some closure, so I walked around to the west side of the building.
    The yellow tape was gone, and a line of glass votive candles sat atop the wall that masked the stairwell. A heap of store-wrapped bouquets sat at the foot of the steps, with a couple of bigger, nicer arrangements and one stuffed bear with pierced nipples. I stopped and stared, then slowly went over to look. The candle flames flickered in the shade of the building.
    More candles on each of the steps, some sitting on top of notes written on scraps of paper. More flowers on the little landing at the top. There were a few greeting cards, and a photo of Kimberly that had been printed on a color inkjet and then gotten wet and smeared. It was still recognizable, barely.
    A lot of people had liked her, I guess. I’d barely known her; I had lumped her and her classmates together and labeled them annoying in my mind. I felt a little bad about that.
    As I stood there, a girl came up and propped a bouquet wrapped in cellophane against the half-wall. She shot me a glance and I recognized her from the Physics 102 class. One of Kimberly’s classmates.
    I gave her a nod. She ducked her head and hurried away.
    I’d see her later. Should I say something to that class? Did they know I had found Kimberly?
    I went into the building, trying to shake off the discomfort of seeing the impromptu