Rain fell on the carriages, automobiles and hooded pedestrians, along the asphalt streets with range of old and older storefronts. The gutters ran with brackish water, the air temporarily cleansed of smoke and battle scents, here and there uniform boots in groups of six or so stomped quickly through a puddle. Otherwise business went on, the Poles had seen much worse times and retained a cultural memory of past wars in which the country had shrunk at its borders and even disappeared.

The war was young and the larger military forces were to the south and east of this city, Poznan. A German made sports car stopped short, braked easily in the slick street and sidled up to the curb before a post office. The driver's door lifted and a slender male figure in cap and nicely tailored jacket stepped out, well shone boots skipping to the storefront lightly. Looking back to the vehicle its driver nodded to the girl inside.

She was dressed in one of her more modest gowns, long silvery blonde hair pulled up in such a manner that she could look studious. She smiled as the door closed. It was a smile the young man understood, and wondered if they were gaining telepathy. The people about him were staring. It was only the car, the clothes. It couldn't be they recognized him or had any clue what he'd gone through the past year, could it?

The man strode into the post office, he didn't think he would have any packages, they would have been sent to his mother's house long ago, he was really here for other news. He tried to smile, to look for any old familiar face but the grim colorful posters about the walls and the constant channels of video news and postings displayed above quieted his happiness at coming home. Poland was recruiting for its own military and from the look of it preparing to put up a fight. Against which side?

The resolute man at the desk looked up, his last customer gone. "Can I help you?" He asked.

"Been out of town, a long while."

"And you came back?" the man asked incredulously.

The young man nodded quickly. "I had to, this is my home. Can you tell me if there is anything for me here?"

"Name?"

He almost said John. He cursed silently. "Danjel Poznanski."

The clerk smiled as he tapped at his board with stylus. "We do have a package for you, actually, two of them it shows..." he rose from his seat only to turn and collect the packages from the slide in the wall behind as they fell. Neither was very large. "You related to Maria? Old family she had, Poznanskis."

"She was my mother," Danjel said.

"I'm sorry."

Danjel took up the packages. The small box from Los Angeles was from his father. The other was probably from Joy, whatever name she used. "My mother's not dead, I only meant she's not that person anymore."

"Oh. Shame. It would be nice to see her about entertaining troops or something. Beautiful lady. She was in movies."

"Used to be," Danjel muttered as he left.

The rain had grown fierce in his absence and opening the door with the packages was a small struggle. The wind threw the water up into his face, while Claudia sat at her mobile surfing, or whatever she did, oblivious. Danjel threw the packages into the small space behind the seats and started the car again. He loved the car, it was gorgeous. But it was so flashy and here he was going home, how could he explain?

"They told my father," Claudia said in English with Parisian accent.

"You could..." Danjel began.

She shook her head. "I travel with you, John," she said.

He nodded. "So, they say anything?"

"A message from my father. He says David showed him the note. He was quite cross with him; imagine a Vampyre letting a blood-bound sixteen-year-old girl run away from him and so on."

Danjel almost told her to be quiet. They were alone, in his car, and he had almost said it.

"No one can hear," Claudia said then continued, "But they made him understand, and he says he worries for me and tries to understand. He does not say it, but I know he is afraid the Underground or the Swiss will find me."

"I won't let them take you again, Claudy, you know that I..."

"I know," Claudia said, didn't let him apologize again, but he wanted to. She had said he was forgiven, but Danjel did not feel forgiven. It had been entirely his fault...he had seen what they had done to her, the bruises...taken her hair, her clothes. He saw in his mind the picture of her when the Swiss took her along with the two Vampyres, the men explaining that this girl was already wanted by the Protestant Underground for some Loyalist activities in Paris, he heard David screaming for her. A flicker in his mind and she was in the jail, somebody's little girl beaten up in the name of Christ.

Claudia. She had just kissed him. Danjel's lips tingled still and his neck where her fingers had dug into his flesh. She could smile at him. When she smiled at him, he could smile, couldn't help it.

Danjel fingered the earring in his right ear that was made of the last three beads and crucifix of a rosary. God help them both, they had to do something!

† † †

The car was parked outside of his mothers house and it had been for several minutes. It was one of the older row houses, brown stone on its façade with elegant staircase before the door, three stories of windows plus the hidden basement windows along the street. It had been their house since his grandfather's time at least. "They're watching the car," Claudia said flatly.

Danjel frowned. Two years since he'd visited, he'd been just barely 18. How could he explain it all?

"I'll just go," Claudia said. She was always brave. She gathered her bags, computer and even Danjel's things until she looked ridiculously weighed down. Still, she marched across the wet street.

Danjel followed, took his bags from her shoulder. He was glad Claudia was along. He glanced nervously to the windows and saw curtains moving. The door was opened as they reached the steps. Wendy was there, two years older than last he'd seen her and of an age between Claudia and him.

"Dany, it is you!" she said, speaking English as usual, it would evidently become American if she continued. The family all spoke English as well as Polish and some Russian or German as they'd picked up in school but he and Wendy had lived with their father as children; it would always be American they spoke.

Danjel dropped his baggage on the stoop and threw his arms about his sister. She was bigger, but so was he, tall, golden-haired and just beautiful. As Wendy peered around his shoulder to Claudia, a girl appeared in the doorway. "Aly!" Danjel called to her.

She cringed in glee as he bent to her. She put her arms about his neck and allowed her self to be lifted. "Did you come back to be in the army?" Alicja asked.

"No. No, I came to be with you."

Alicja hugged Danjel more tightly as he carried her into the house. Wendy was helping with baggage, saying that the rest of the family were all out. Danjel half listened. He was home.

The smells from the kitchen at the back of the house, bread smells and meat smells, the fading wallpaper in the staircase, the smooth wooden floors and the sound of boots on its planks were all familiar. Danjel placed Alicja on the floor. He turned, saw the three girls waiting. "Do you think we can have some place to stay."

"All the basement is free," Wendy said already lifting bags to move to the inside staircase.

Danjel took the remaining luggage from Claudia careful to leave her computer and followed Wendy down into the cluttered basement. He hadn't had his own room here since Alicja was born and really thought it best not to expect Rudy to share a room again. The basement was fine, comfortable and less formal than the rest of the house in décor and function.

Danjel gathered Wendy and Alicja onto one of the two sofas with him. He sighed, very much relieved. "I have lots of things to tell you all, but I will wait until Mom is home. But I have come to stay with you, to be here. I came here as soon as I heard about the war. Claudia has come with me. She is a good friend of mine, so you make her feel at home. She's never been to Poland before."

"Not his girlfriend?" Wendy asked.

Danjel looked to Claudia. She was just sitting down on the floor and letting down her hair, mobile computer already open. "Maybe sometimes," Claudia said with too evil a smile. Later he might confess to Wendy, later still to a priest, but there was no reason to give Alicja cause to ask what the difference was.

Claudia smiled for Alicja. "I tease him sometimes, he is like my big brother, always watching out for me. I never had my own brother. You will share him, won't you?"

"What accent is that?" Alicja asked.

"I grew up in Paris," Claudia told them. She asked for a bathroom.

"Alicja will show you," Wendy said. The smaller girl was eager enough to leave with her new plaything.

"You got a package from Dad," Wendy said. Danjel was going to say he had not opened it but his sister continued. "He wants you and I to leave for America. He thinks we will be safe."

"And nothing about Mom?"

Wendy sighed. "He won't say a word against Jozef, you know that. But he figures we can just leave her and all the half-siblings and go live in California."

"I'm not going to California!"

"Neither am I," Wendy said.

"Tell me everything that's happened here," Danjel asked.

Wendy nodded and began to speak. She said the real battles were on the borders but that people within the cities were causing their own problems in their urgency to prepare for the worst, stores were short of everything and lines formed when new supplies were known to arrive. Those who felt passionately one way or another about the war were fighting against each other and the number of soldiers in the city were mainly Polish and present only to police the streets in case of riot. Though she had heard that a group of Russian soldiers camped at the old airport. In either case, seeing soldiers unnerved everyone. Mother was at the church daily, which was not unusual, she had always been religious and devout to the Catholic church, but now, because of the political actions of the Pope, the church was sometimes targeted by protestors. Otherwise, there were more people who went there seeking help and so their mother volunteered her time to do whatever their priests needed.

Danjel thought about his own dealings with priests. He had gone to temple when he was young, because his father had taken him, but after his parents separated and father moved back to LA, Mother had educated all her children in the Catholic church teachings and encouraged them through the sacraments. In particular, Danjel had been very interested in Catholicism as a whole, reading of saints and church history. His best friend, Krzysztof, had gone into the seminary. Such discussions they'd had.

But, more recently, he'd been hired by the lady who approached him in Varna where he'd been working, and while chauffeuring her about, found that she was one of the Vampyres as was the man, David, she called her brother. It had seemed the best thing to tell a priest of that, to ask for advice. But, somehow, it had all gone wrong. The Priest in Zakopane had used Danjel to capture the two Vampyres along with their young servant...Claudia.

The things the militants had done in that prison, in the name of the church, could not be remotely Christian. Having the small part in it had made him wish for death, made him feel himself Judas.

"Do the priests say anything, Wendy?" Danjel asked, "About what we should do?"

"I don't get what you mean. They say what they always say. The war is political, it's about borders shifting by Union order, and over-government, and the Pope lodging complaints about being run out of the Vatican."

"But Russia crossing into other nations, in violation of the Treaty, means they reject the Union laws. If there is no Union law, then there is nothing to stop Darkling from taking vengeance out on people..."

Wendy shrugged. "Ask Rudy, he's full of the latest propaganda these days. Really. Regardless of ideology, The Union has continued to allow all people their freedom of religion and basically left us alone. Doesn't matter if they say it's to 'liberate' us or help 'peacekeep'; The Russians are the ones who crossed the border. Do you want to be Polish or Russian?"

Danjel shook his head. "I can't agree with that either. It's just another government. Our people are the important thing. I don't want anyone to die fighting."

Wendy shrugged. Alicja had returned with Claudia and now Leon was with them. Danjel greeted his half-brother, handsome brown-haired boy around Claudia's age, more thick of build than any of the siblings, legs large and face ruddy now from playing football; he still had the cleats on.

He gave his hand for only a moment and turned immediately to ask Wendy to cook supper saying that dad and Rudy would be home shortly and mother would be at the church late again.

"Where is Jozef?" Danjel asked.

"He and Rudy like to keep informed about the war," Wendy said, "They stop by the library after work. A lot of people from all sides go there, it's sort of agreed there will be no fighting there."

Danjel nodded slowly. He said that he would help Wendy with cooking after he had changed his clothes. She took Alicja away with her, leaving Claudia and Danjel alone again. Claudia opened one of her bags, removed her clothes to hang from some long forgotten nail in a ceiling beam and then went about brushing her hair. Danjel sat gazing at the movement of her hairbrush for a while, thought about getting some clothes.

"I like them," Claudia said.

"I should have introduced you properly."

"I have been thinking, perhaps if I just used my own name, I mean dropped my father's name."

"Are you sure?" Danjel asked. He had heard Claudia speak of her father and this seemed contrary to her previous thoughts.

"Only because if there happens to be anyone who knows of the organized resistance they may have heard of Louis DeParis, he was quite notorious as I've explained." He'd been a member of an organization called the Metropolitain Noir, which had saved Darkling from the guillotine during the recent Paris Riots, and smuggled them to safety. "And well, I did forge documents and hack with intent of taking or changing information, regrettable..."

"Claudia Klein then," Danjel said quickly, "We'll say you spent many years in France but of course are German."

"Too many lies trips one up. Just use the name, I'll speak to the rest."

Claudia lay out some fresh clothes from Danjel's bags. It had always seemed obvious to him that she was used to being served, came from money, yet she had been a maid of sorts to Joy, had done everything David wished. A vision of David crawling up Claudia's naked body just to take the blood from her throat. Danjel shivered to be rid of the vision. The last year had been nightmarish and at times seductive in the amount of new pleasures offered.

† † †

Danjel longed for his mother the instant Jozef and Rudolph came into the house. So involved in political debate in which they didn't entirely disagree but nearly agreed in loud rapid sentences were they, and so eager to drag Danjel into it. Rudolph, the oldest of Jozef's children, about a year older than Claudia, and as tall and slender as Danjel, but with Jozef's dark hair and eye coloring; ranting about wanting to join the army, and insisting that, as a Catholic and a Pole, it was his duty to keep the Darkling Guard out of Poland, and let the Russians pass through, if they must to support the Swiss in some campaign further west. And then Jozef would insist that they must resist all foreign military, or else be an occupied country.

Rudy did not believe Russia had any motivation to take Poland for themselves, would talk about making deals with or demands on the Russians, to allow them to pass through, so long as they did not leave troops behind. Jozef in turn would say it would be a bad thing if troops were left behind. He listed many old wars in which Poland had been taken or partitioned.

Expectant looks toward Danjel. He began to explain that he and Claudia, with other companions, had traveled to many cities in the last year, and that they had been in Paris during one of the largest terror attacks, in which explosives were deployed, to shut down all transportation in and out of the city. Business had been halted for weeks, and simply ancient buildings destroyed. "It is nothing you want here. It's so peaceful here compared to what I saw: streets filled with battle and buildings and vehicles exploding around you. I was even shot!"

"You took a wound in Paris?" Rudy asked.

"Well, it was only my arm, it healed eventually."

"Did they really use the guillotine?" Leon asked.

"I believe one of the groups was trying to round up and execute all Darkling."

"the Protestant Underground, Secret Christian Brotherhood, Klansmen from America, the Rowan, those now calling themselves the États libres...all at some point in the last fifty years have been active in Paris and most have attempted to solve their problems by outing and murdering Darkling, even if they are innocent of crimes or just children."

The family all stared at Claudia.

"I see it on the net, anyone can find out about these groups if they do a small amount of research."

"Ah, one of those girls always at the keys," Jozef said with a forced laugh.

Claudia smiled. Danjel let out a breath he'd hardly been aware of holding.

"Isn't the reason they have so many problems because of the Haven?" Rudy asked.

Claudia squinted. "They have a Haven, but it's actually been there for millennia." She shook her head. "It's just our way, being Parisian."

"She's joking," Danjel pointed out.

"Oh," Wendy said.

"So, you've known Danjel long?" Jozef began.

Claudia beamed. "About a year."

"Make up beds for them, Wendy?"

"We're in the basement," Danjel said quickly.

"I'm sure your mother will want to meet Claudia, when she comes in."

Danjel sighed. Annoying in a way, but it felt so good for the moment to be scrutinized by a step-parent and suspected of no good. He might enjoy his mother ranting and insisting Claudia share an upstairs room with one of his sisters. Might dwell for a moment in the illusion that the worst they harbored was a sexually-active teenaged girl, and not a hacker sought by every anti-darkling terrorist organization, either for her own past crimes or because they could use her as bait to manipulate David and the powerful Vampyres related to him by blood.

† † †

They were laying together on a sofa when mother reached the basement but nothing about their proximity seemed to touch her. She was beautiful as ever she had been as a young starlet or commercial actress, and as a Madonna about to weep for her son. She breathed his name and, suddenly, Claudia was gone and mother was leaning over Danjel.

He embraced her, smelt the incense about her and the clove shampoo. For an instant, he thought of Karachi and the village there - it was the clove scent - but then mother was back. "I missed you," Danjel confessed, "I had to come be with you."

She only held him without speaking. When she slowly drew away Danjel saw she was teary-eyed. "Don't tell me you've come to sign up for the war, my heart will break."

Danjel shook his head. "Not me, momma, but I had to be here." And then he heard himself confess everything. Meeting two Vampyres. The priests who seemed to use him. The lady Vampyre who tormented him. His strange, close friendship with Claudia. He spoke of the riots in Paris, and told her that he actually had been inside the Haven. He described his trip to Scotland, and the peaceful Darkling that were there. Danjel described New York City and driving across America. He'd been to Japan, and the lady Vampyre had done something to betray him, but he didn't tell her that part. He explained at length his meeting the strange sort of Darkling in Karachi: Joe who was a boy of the Naphaim and his friend, as well as the Keeper there, called Orchid, who had helped him. And then, he told his mother of going to Rome and seeing the inside of Vampire City, which had once been the Vatican, and how he felt that, just as with people- humans, some Darkling were better or worse than others. And then, quickly, Danjel said that he had arranged as best he could to travel to Zakopane where his car had been, and finally he and Claudia had driven here.

He asked that his mother believe that he had to be with Claudia; she had risked danger to herself to support Danjel in his desire to be here with his people, and had to stay hidden. And maybe he was damned for it, but he was going to sleep with her. He saw his mother laugh as he swore he would go mad without Claudia, swear that he loved her.

"Oh, Dany," Momma cried, "you tell me of evil priests and innocent Vampyres, riots, being shot at and violated, of so much blood-drinking and manipulation. You have gone through all this and still come back to me alive and well, and think I would keep you from this beautiful girl who has been a true friend through all of those things?"

Claudia giggled somewhere.

"You take your friend to see Father Kit tomorrow, he still asks about you..."

"Kit is here? He's one of our priests?"

Mother smiled. "Yes, Father Krzysztof is one of our priests now. Go to see him, Dany. Confess your troubles to him. He could use help with the missions. Or go to the library in the mornings, before the others all crowd in there. Be our peacemaker, eh?"

Danjel hugged his mother again, and this time he thought only of her as he breathed the scent of her hair. "I love you."

She left him with a kiss on the cheek, seemed tired suddenly. And then Claudia was standing there. "I like her. You made her sound so strict, made my father sound horrible and permissive."

"She's not well," Danjel whispered, "She's terribly worried."

Claudia nodded. "Tomorrow we will go visit this father Kit, perhaps he can help. And I will definitely go to the Library, and any place the young men and women gather, to find what I can. There must be a way to get through these times without all joining the army or taking part in riots."

Danjel nodded slowly. That was his reason for coming here, a hope that he had some power to stop the fighting. He really had no idea what he could do.

† † †

Danjel climbed the stairs from basement to second floor where the first shower could be found. He passed through the two staircases and halls, passed by a bedroom and music room. His Grandfather had always been at the piano and there was a small collection of classical instruments the family had collected. In the halls there were a few photos remaining from Mother's movie career.

Danjel's father had reportedly discovered her, cast her as "that girl who can do a convincing Slavic accent" in a number of American and British films. She'd even done a few Polish movies and played parts in some German films. But, after their separation, when Jozef and mother had married, she had devoted herself to family and god entirely.

After his first real shower in days, Danjel left for the kitchen clothed in a towel. Alicja was complaining from her room that Mother was pulling her hair as she combed it. Footsteps above said Rudy was dancing around with his punching dummy. Rudolph had already been into boxing when Danjel had left home, when they had shared a room and fought constantly.

Jozef was in the kitchen, sitting at the head of the table and looking at the small digital pad as he chewed at his toast. He glanced as quickly at Danjel. Wendy was awaiting food from some small appliance or other. Danjel stood still near the pantry, wondering what he might eat. He'd gotten too used to being served over the last year, to having ladies pile plates before him with foods of every nation. He felt thirsty.

"Wendy says this is your car outside," Jozef said and it took a moment to realize Danjel was being spoken to. "Don't think you would want to go back to taxis after being in one of those...have you thought about working now that you are back?"

"I didn't come here for that," Danjel snapped and instantly regretted his tone. Jozef didn't deserve that, it had only been concern. "Forgive me. I meant that I have a plan but I need to learn more before I am sure what to do."

"You do mean to join the army."

"No," Danjel insisted. He decided he'd just get some coffee.

"What's this?" Wendy asked as Danjel felt her at his back. He turned his head, saw her standing with warm cereal in one hand and the other with fingers hovering behind his left shoulder.

How could he have forgotten the tattoo? Obviously that was what Wendy had seen. "A cute little butterfly," she teased and Danjel knew Jozef was looking toward him.

"I had it done a while ago," Danjel said and straightened, "cute as it may be, it symbolizes to me a transformation of the soul. A metamorphosis if you will."

"Your brother is a man now, Wendy, leave him be," Jozef said calmly.

"And wraith thin," Mother said as she arrived. "I will fix you breakfast. Go get dressed, Dany, you'll eat before you go to the church."

Danjel sighed deeply. They used to all annoy him so, but the nagging was a joy now. He jogged to the stairs obediently.

Claudia was still lying on one of the sofas, curled slightly on her side, and hiding her face from the beam of sunlight that came through the shallow windows near the ceiling. Danjel bent to her side, lifted the blanket from her face. So pale she looked. "It's so bright," she croaked.

"You need breakfast," Danjel told her but he was afraid she needed what he could not possibly give her.

"Thirsty," Claudia whispered. Her tongue left her lips and licked at one and then the other.

"Try not to think about it," Danjel whispered, "Just get dressed."

She rose quickly, almost robotically. Danjel said nothing as he dressed himself, but could not stop seeing an image of David piercing her pale flesh with those two sharp fangs...and he'd seen it so clearly. Yes, he was remembering it rightly, Danjel had been in a bed with Claudia. Naked. Warm. Simply worshiping Claudia and then David had been there, as if rising from a mist between them, and then the blood. Had Danjel been kissed? Tasted Claudia's blood from David's lips? There was so much he did not really want to remember, he'd liked it all too much.

† † †

A couple eggs, tomato juice, splash of orange straight from the skin and a cup or so of Rudy's rehydrating sports drink. It made a thick red liquid that smelled foul but Claudia drank it down quickly. Danjel cringed. For all the stories of Tepes and Dracula, there were blessed few Vampyres that would be caught dead or otherwise in the Eastern parts of Europe, and so while growing up he'd had his human words for them and all their habits. Upierzyca, he had called Joy.

Danjel shivered every time he thought of her. How had he let her have so much power over him? At first it was supposed to be an act, a priest, by Christ, had been the one to ask him to act as if loyal to the Vampyre until she could be trapped, but little by little, the acting had become easier, until it didn't seem to be an act.

Image of Joy in tight-bodiced, green velvet gown, her deep brown eyes swimming with motes of green it seemed, and the half-remembered touch of her black-lacquered fingernails on his bare skin. He had wanted her to cut him!

And the girl sitting pale and quiet at his mother's table, forcing a smile, had been what they called blood-bound before Danjel had even met her. After a while, she had been drinking animals blood herself. She had not turned, never become a Vampyre, but Danjel was sure Claudia was close as one could be yet remain human. She was trying to fight an addiction to the blood and, little by little, it was showing.

When Claudia looked at him her eyes were apologetic. Don't worry, I'll help you, Danjel thought and then she nodded as if he had spoken.