They were sitting in the park with Elle; Morpheus was playing with the knobs of Elle's hair that she was trying to grow into dreads. Opium kept saying that Elle would look so kickin' if they ever grew out, a black girl with crazy blonde dreads. Opium used silly words like kickin' and girlfriend all the time, and Morpheus only knew that it didn't seem affected. No one else used her precise combination of slang.

"Fierce?" Morpheus asked.

"Fierce!" said Opium correcting his inflection.

Elle laughed, "It's one of those words that means that something is very bad, or that it is very good?"

"Yeah, like bad or wicked used to be," Opium said.

Morpheus doubted Elle would have ever heard wicked used in slang, Morpheus had only ever heard Opium use it. And besides that Elle was French, not American. Morpheus saw Joy coming. "Gotta go," he groaned. He picked up his guitar case and moved away.

He spent the afternoon playing in the park, after Opium had taken Joy and Elle away to catch the train out to Brooklyn. It was summer, the park was pretty crowded, with pigeons more than anything. Morpheus wasn't too partial to birds, if he was ever to feed pigeons it would be because he was feeding pigeons to his plants, or his Djinn, they all thrived on blood offerings.

He saw Julien come into the park, felt his wings want to sprout from his back. It was that way with all Angels, if you got very emotional about anything they just showed. It was a completely separate feeling from the lust. No better way to describe it. He wanted Julien badly.

And there he was, laughing and surrounded by friends. Morpheus had picked up their names, of course he knew the green-eyed creature was Athen, the Vampyre. The other two were Human. What bothered Morpheus about the Humans was that they knew Athen, or Louis as he was going by, was a Vampyre-the girl was even giving blood to him-but they never told Julien.

Morpheus could not help but wonder: how could you not know your lover was a Vampyre? He closed his eyes for an instant, saw himself sitting in the park as he was then, saw Julien beside him, pale, not tan, kissing his throat. A shiver moved up Morpheus' spine as he opened his eyes. He saw Athen kissing Julien oblivious to the crowd about them, and Morpheus bit at his lip. He had felt Julien's fangs press against his skin in that second his eyes had been closed.

Julien was sitting very still, the girl, Julia, was drawing his portrait. They all went to the same art school, even Athen. There was a gallery downtown that had shown paintings done by Athen the other year, Morpheus had gone to see them. He remembered standing in that room perfectly, there had been so many Julien's staring at him, those done by Athen and those done by a painter called Cary Merisi. Morpheus only knew who Cary was because he had seen the young man so many times in scrying pools while Julien had been dating him.

Morpheus choked, almost cried, suddenly it had hit him that he would live this way for centuries, one at least. He put his guitar away slowly and then sat with his knees drawn up under his chin. A girl sat down near him and did the very same thing.

He looked at her. She had dark red hair that seemed to come from dye and lain in braids that were held with the sort of barrettes babies wore in their hair. She was wearing a flannel shirt over a tank and jeans, Doc's on her feet like the ones he was wearing. She rolled her head to one side and looked at him for an instant.

She was sad, he felt it. She was one of the desperate ones, but she wasn't like the children who just tried to forget, she was different. She fought. She kept going through the pain, living in The Empty World, knowing more than most around her what was going on because she knew there had to be something better than her world. And she was lonely, like him.

"Hi," Morpheus whispered to her.

"Hi," she mouthed.

"I like the barrettes, really."

She nodded, dared to look him in the eyes for a split-second. They were blue, mixed-up blue, and she was freckled. Morpheus noticed she had a pock mark almost at the center of her forehead. He only really noticed because he was used to picking out the one Opium had from a distance. This girl's was on the opposite side. "What's your name?" Morpheus asked.

"Seraph," she said at a whisper. She didn't look directly at him.

Morpheus smiled. "Like an Angel."

Her pout nearly thinned to a smile. "Yeah, an Angel."

"My name's Tyron," said Morpheus.

She smiled half a smile. She didn't say it, but she was thinking about a Tyrone Power movie she had seen, it was almost as if she wanted him to see the image, as if communicating by thought came more naturally than speaking.

She looked even more sad, something came over her quite suddenly, she dug the heel of her palm into her left eye. "Gotta go," she said.

Morpheus walked up to Hotel Seventeen and paid for another week in advance. He went up to his room, set the guitar against the wall and lay down. River was waiting for him, hanging on the wall. "I know," said Morpheus, "hotel's too clean, not enough for you to eat."

The lizard hopped from the wall, and perched on Morpheus' head. "I don't eat other animals."

"Don't lizards eat bugs?"

River just blinked at him.

"Sorry. I suppose it's hard for you. We can't do anything for Julien, or Joy. I'm sure we'll find someone you can help, you need to find good things to do with your life too."

Morpheus took the lizard into his hands and lay petting it. "I don't want to say anything to Opium, I know it's just the same with her, sometimes she can't help wanting to go back to Sleep. It's not like I have this idea that I'll see him some night and...fuck him, Riv," speaking curses didn't come naturally to Morpheus, but he thought that was the word for it when it was mainly physical. "It's just I miss having someone touching me. It never feels as bad as this at home, it's like this world sucks the life from you and you need so much, you need these others to come touch you and say nice things to you."

River seemed to sigh.

Morpheus picked up an issue of Vogue from the clutter of his bed and flipped through it. He recognized Julien's sister, the voluptuous tall blonde model wearing silver make-up. And he recognized Linda Evangelista. She was Julien's favorite super-model. Morpheus liked her name. "Think I could find a Djinn in New York, Riv?"

"What's a Djinn?"

"Maybe I can show you." Morpheus lifted River to his shoulder. Morpheus collected a few things from the room then. They made their way up to the roof of the hotel. Morpheus set some incense burning on the roof and stood before it, his eyes going black to the very corners. He spoke the words that would call the Daejinnim to him, kept chanting quietly till he could feel their invisible bodies hovering. He listened to their secret voices begging for attention.

Morpheus feared then he wouldn't find one Djinn that would be useful and loyal to him. These Djinn had been hovering over this city for ages, were practiced at impersonating petty Daemons for kids who played records backwards, and playing devil for those who lit black candles below inverted crosses. Morpheus wanted nothing to do with those sort of Djinn, much too impish and arrogant.

He called to his two loyal Djinn and they came up from his room in the bodies of Sofia Loren and Audrey Hepburn in slim black powersuits, bringing him the small cassette player he wished for. "This will do it or nothing will," Morpheus said to River. He set the deck to play and music from Madonna's Erotica album played softly.

Morpheus called again, and there were fewer Djinn now. Some of them brought clouds and rain to him but Morpheus only told those ones to go. Another Djinn came down and turned the music up, moved through Morpheus' hair. Morpheus called it back, gave it shape so that a Linda stood before him in powersuit. "Evangelista," he named it and to insure its loyalty he made a small wound in his arm with fingernails and offered blood to the new Djinn.

There were three.

Morpheus collected River and his things, went to the door calling the Djinn after him. When he got to his room he found three bottles and dropped some blood into each. Morpheus commanded the Djinn into the bottles and capped them loosely. He thought it would be better to have them trapped a little while.

Morpheus got into bed, and he fell asleep. He woke up feeling sad, thought he remembered dreaming Julien. And he also felt himself watched. He sat up slowly, and heard a giggle. Absinthe and Laudanum were there, in his room. "Happy, unbirthday!" Absinthe said.

They rushed to the bed and sat with him. Laudanum crawled up behind and draped his arms about Morpheus' shoulders, Absinthe sat facing them, opened a box of chocolates and offered them to Morpheus. "Cheer up!" Absinthe said.

"Why are we always having to cheer you up?" Laudanum asked sleepily.

"I am fully expecting the sky to open up and rain down torrents!"

"You were watching the mirrors," Morpheus said finding himself somehow gladdened.

"Well, Sin was coming to feed the plants, and I was coming to see her..."

"His beloved sister."

"And no one was watching the desperate ones, so I took it upon myself."

"But he gets tired, so I keep him awake."

"We work well together."

Morpheus laughed. He closed his eyes and let chocolate melt over his tongue. It felt so much better being held.

"Group hug!" squealed Absinthe and threw herself into Morpheus' lap.

"I love you guys," Morpheus said.

Laudanum kissed his shoulder, "We know."

Morpheus felt better after that. They came to see him often. Absinthe indicated that Jibril was just a little regretful, he had not guessed that being in the needy world would effect Morpheus after so short a time. No one had ever claimed that they understood the nature of Halfangels. All they did know was that the Angels who spent the most time in the needy world alone fell most easily. Gabriel and Raziel would have fallen long ago if they did not consistently travel together.

Morpheus was walking up Fifth Avenue singing to himself, not very loudly, when he heard a gunshot. He ducked reflexively, familiar with the sound. He heard another, caught the running figure across the street, familiar, he should know this person. And then another shot as the figure spun around. Steven!

He was falling to the pavement.

The doorman ran from the building across the street, pounded over the pavement toward Steven's body. Morpheus felt something else, from above. Someone up in the building knew what had happened and was radiating anger. Athen? If Steven lived in this building Julien did too, and that meant Athen would be near.

A form, Morpheus thought, a body and I can go over there, I can help. He reached and it came to him as it had in the mirage, the form most needed, most friendly. He knew that he would be called Joey.

Athen was leaning over Steven's bleeding figure when Morpheus arrived. He was opening Steven's shirt, holding one hand on the chest wound while he prodded at Steven's head with the other. Some of the people there were telling him to leave the body alone. Athen only snapped at them, eyes glaring. "Have you ever watched someone die?"

"I have, mahn," Morpheus said.

Steven spoke: "...eyes..."

"Oh, no, Steven, don't go," Athen cried. It seemed he actually loved the Human.

"Don't look at her, mahn...she'll take ya with those eyes of hers, don't look," said Joey's voice.

"Fucking tell her you're not going!" Athen shouted.

There was a choking sound, for an instant Morpheus thought Steven was dying. But, the sound came from above.

Julien was standing there looking a Calvin Klein poster boy, crying. "Oh my Gawd Omigawd omigawdomigawdomi..." and then nothing.

The ambulance came. Steven was hastily lifted onto a stretcher and hoisted up into the vehicle. Athen moved after him, a hand came up to bar his way. He could have looked at them a certain way and held them in thrall, he could have smacked the man so hard his head flew from his shoulders, but he just stood, stunned. "He's his fucking nephew," Morpheus said.

The paramedic rolled his eyes, but they had no time to fight. Athen climbed inside. He shouted at Julien. And Julien didn't seem to hear...anything. "Jule! Go inside. Tell John what's happened. Jule?"

The ambulance sped away. Morpheus stood staring at Julien. He smiled to himself. He was standing not three feet from Julien, and he was perfectly calm.

The small crowd was moving away, several police officers stood pointing at things, trying to get statements. Julien stood staring at the spreading pool of blood. His arms hugged his waist, his face was stained with tears, still wet. Julien licked the salt from his lip.

The doorman was watching Julien as he spoke to one of the police. "His name's Julien Dangerous. But he wasn't here when it happened. He knows Mr. Jewel...lives in the building."

"Well I don't guess we need to talk to him, kid looks pretty messed up anyway."

Morpheus stepped to Julien's side, touched his arm. "Hey, c'mon, I'll take you inside."

Julien said nothing, but he walked along when Morpheus put just a little pressure on his arm. They passed through the lobby with no trouble. Julien was leading the way, letting Morpheus press the button outside the elevator but pressing the one inside himself before returning his arm to his waist. A somnambulist.

They went into Steven's penthouse. The door wasn't locked. Julien walked to the ladder-like staircase and climbed to the loft, letting Morpheus stay close to him the entire time. There was a man sleeping fitfully on a sofabed, John, Morpheus gathered. He thought he recognized him from scrying pools, a tall, brown-haired ex-dancer. John was currently acting as Steven's bodyguard. He spoke in his sleep, called the name Daniel. And then very suddenly he sat up.

Julien slipped down beside him, said nothing. John blinked sleep from his eyes, shook his head. "Julien?"

Julien began sobbing loudly, fell forward and cried on John's bare shoulder.

"He's not going to die," Morpheus whispered.

John seemed to see him for the first time. His jaw fell, his fingers clenched at Julien's shirt.

Morpheus gave him a short nod. "You can call me Joe," he said. "Your friend, he's in the hospital, I'm sure the doorman remembers which, he's good at remembering." He turned on his heels, walked down the stair.

"Joey?"

Morpheus went to the door.

"Joey! Thanks!"

Morpheus smiled. Joseph Ripley had been dead ten years.