Of Masques and Martyrs by Christopher Golden Read Free Book Online Page B

was never at issue. After his first death, when he became one of the shadows, he lived in secret even as his celebrity continued to grow. Reluctantly, he joined Karl Von Reinman’s coven and tried to hunt only the worst of humanity. Eventually, he couldn’t do even that, instead taking blood only from willing donors.
    After the Venice Jihad, when the world learned that the shadows were real, Cody reveled in his second round of fame and adoration. He tried to re-create at least a part of his great celebrity. Then Hannibal had declared a savage war on humanity, and on any of the immortals who opposed him.
    For the first time in his life, the world turned against Will Cody. He was reviled instead of applauded. It had been that way for more than a year now, and Allison had come to believe firmly that it was killing him, destroying her lover as surely as some horrid disease.
    Hannibal’s betrayal had not only changed the world, but it had changed them all individually as well. Allison had abandoned her life as a broadcast journalist to disappear into the shadow of America. The world knew her lover was a vampire, of course. So Hannibal had destroyed her life as well. Living in fear changed her priorities, that was for certain.
    Her generation had never known what war really meant. But Allison knew now. War was living, squeezing life from every second.
    Will had become more serious, more intense, over the past year. That had been the whole purpose of this trip, to relax, to forget Hannibal, at least for a little while. They’d reasoned that in places like North Platte and Cedar Mountain, there wouldn’t be any shadows, nor any vampires. Except Will.
    It had helped some. But not enough. Allison still felt as though her presence was the only thing that could make Will happy. That was a lot of responsibility for a woman in any relationship, but living on the run, in the middle of a guerilla war, it was even harder. The hardest part was not becoming just as dependent on him as he was on her. It might already be too late, she thought. Nothing mattered to her the way Will did. Allison didn’t know what she would do without him.
    Then there was Peter. She didn’t know if it was his new familiarity with sorcery, or the unfathomable time he had spent away from anyone who cared for him, but Octavian had set himself at a distance from everyone. He still had a certain nobility and charm, but his warmth seemed to have disappeared. Except with George Marcopoulos, the aged human doctor who had been Peter’s friend through it all.
    “You ready?” Will asked, his fingers lightly running through her hair. She wore it cut fashionably shorter now, at shoulder length.
    “So we get breakfast after all?” she asked with a smile.
    “I suppose you deserve it,” Will replied archly.
    “Suppose?” Allison cried, feigning insult. “You wound me, sir.”
    Will leaned in and kissed her then. For a long moment after, he rested his forehead against hers. Then he sighed and withdrew, eyes closed a moment and with a tiny smirk on his face. Allison began to reach behind his head to pull him close for another kiss, but Will waggled a finger in front of her eyes.
    “Now, now, young lady,” he said sternly. “Let’s not start that again, or we’ll be out here all morning.”
    Allison laughed, summoned up her strength, and with one mighty shove pushed Will off the hood of the Jeep. With the speed that was a trademark of his kind, he could easily have turned and landed on his feet. Instead he offered her a look of mock hurt and despair and plummeted to the hard-packed dirt road with a grunt.
    “Come on, old man,” Allison said as she slid off the hood. “I’m getting hungry.”
    As she opened the passenger door, she saw Will pop up just beyond the Jeep, chuckling to himself. Sweet relief washed over her. For once, he was relaxed. He’d forgotten his troubles, just for a moment.
    Inside the Jeep, the cellular phone trilled. Allison frowned and