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here in our demesne, but we can only do so much. Also, many of the older Vampyres resent the new restrictions, and they still follow the old ways in regulating their family trees—through secrecy, domination and violence.”
    “Oh good,” said Rune. “All the fun from the Vampyre movies just came back.”
     
     
    S panned by its famous bridge, the Golden Gate is actually the name of the strait that was discovered in 1769 by Spanish explorers. In 1846, the American military officer John C. Fremont named the passageway “Chrysopylae,” or “Golden Gate,” before the Californian gold rush. The strait had been compared to ancient Byzantium’s Golden Horn.
    As Rune looked out, the Golden Gate Bridge towered shining over the darkened waters of the strait. The symbolism of standing before a gateway was not lost on him. He dropped his duffle on the floor near a black Italian leather chair in front of a spotless glass desk that had some serious acreage. He hooked his thumbs into the empty belt loops on his faded jeans and stood at his ease as he regarded the Vampyre.
    Duncan did not sit behind the desk, nor did he invite Rune to sit. Instead he moved to the window and looked toward the west. He put his hands in the pockets of his twenty-five-hundred-dollar suit and, for a moment, he went completely still as only Vampyres could. He looked like the airbrushed front cover of a GQ magazine.
    Here it comes, Rune thought. Mow the lawn for the next thousand years. One single favor, stated in quite a simple sentence. Yeah Dragos, I know quite fucking well what I gave away.
    “It’s disappeared again,” Duncan murmured.
    “What?” Rune said.
    “The island. It’s disappeared again.”
    Rune looked out the window as well. The residual bloodred sunset glow was all but gone, but his sharp predator’s eyes could pick out the details in the night as well as the Vampyre’s could. The island had indeed faded from sight.
    He shrugged and said, “Okay.”
    “That is where you are supposed to go,” Duncan said.
    Rune sighed. “When I got your email, I thought you would be giving me the instructions for this favor.”
    Duncan turned away from the window to face him. “From what little I understand, any instructions I might give you would not release you from your magical obligation. Your contract is with Carling, and she must order you in person. She is currently at her home on the Other island, and of course time flows differently there. I am merely supposed to verify you made it here by the stated deadline, and to give you directions on how to get there.”
    “So Carling lives on Blood Alley, huh?” Rune shook his head. Way to build an all-over fearsome reputation, Carling. Much like the feudal Wyr society, in the Nightkind demesne, might often equaled right, and Carling had ruled as Queen for a long time before she gave the crown to Julian. She had abdicated to take advantage of a loophole that had then existed in inter-demesne law, which allowed her to become the Nightkind Councillor for the Elder tribunal. The legal loophole had since been closed. Former demesne rulers were now barred from sitting on the tribunal, but Carling maintained her unique position. She was not just a Councillor on the Elder tribunal. Since Julian was Carling’s progeny, he might rule the demesne, but Carling ruled Julian.
    Duncan shook his head. “Blood Alley is a very unfortunate label and not at all accurate. The crossover passage and the island were discovered around 1836, and as soon as she had become aware of its existence, Carling laid claim to it. There were a few times when she was Queen that she had to take action against warring Vampyre families. Her response had to be severe enough to quell the upsurge in violence.”
    “Oh-kay,” he muttered. “Been there, done that. I’m sure I’ve got a T-shirt somewhere to prove it. Why don’t you hit me with those directions?”
    “You must fly westward for a mile or so and circle around to