Mr. Quinlan regarded Eph with eyes informed by centuries of existence. His voice, when it entered Eph’s mind, was a smooth, measured baritone.

Dr. Goodweather, I presume.

Eph locked eyes with him. Barely nodded. Mr. Quinlan looked at Fet:

I’m here in the hopes that we can reach an arrangement.

Low Memorial Library, Columbia University

INSIDE THE COLUMBIA University library, in a research room off the cavernous rotunda—once, and still, the largest all-granite dome in the country—Mr. Quinlan sat at a reading table across from Fet.

“You help us break into the camp—you get to read the book,” said Fet. “There is no further negotiation…”

I will do that. But you know that you will be vastly outnumbered by both strigoi and human guards?

“We know,” said Fet. “Will you help us in? That’s the price.”

I will.

The burly exterminator unzipped a hidden pocket in his backpack and pulled out a large bundle of rags.

You had it on you? asked the Born, incredulous.

“Can’t think of a safer place,” said Fet, smiling. “Hidden in plain sight. You want the book, you go through me.”

A daunting task, to be sure.

Fet shrugged. “Daunting enough.” He unwrapped a volume lying within the rags. “The Lumen,” said Fet.

Quinlan felt a wave of cold travel up his neck. A rare sensation in one so old. He studied the book as Fet turned to face him. The cover was ragged leather and fabric.

“I pulled off the silver cover. Ruined the spine a little bit, but too bad. It looks humble and unimportant, doesn’t it?”

Where’s the silver cover?

“I have it socked away. Easy to retrieve.”

Quinlan looked at him. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, exterminator?

Felt shrugged off the compliment.

The old man chose well, Mr. Fet. Your heart is uncomplicated. It knows what it knows and acts accordingly. Greater wisdom is hard to find.

The Born sat with his black cotton hood sloughed off his immaculately smooth, white head. Before him, open to one of the illuminated pages, lay the Occido Lumen. Because its silver edging was repellent to his vampiric nature, he carefully turned the pages using the eraser top of a pencil. Now, at once, he touched the interior of the page with his fingertip, almost in the way a blind man would search a loved one’s face.

This document was holy. It contained the creation and history of the world’s vampire race, and as such included several references to Borns. Imagine a human allowed access to a book outlining human creation and answers to most if not all of life’s mysteries. Mr. Quinlan’s deeply red eyes scanned the pages with intense interest.

The reading is slow. The language is dense.

Fet said, “You’re telling me.”

Also, there is much that is hidden. In images and in the watermarks. They appear much clearer to my eyes than yours—but this is going to require some time.

“Which is exactly what we do not have. How much time will it take?”

The Born’s eyes continued scanning back and forth.

Impossible to say.

Fet was aware that his anxiety was a distraction to Mr. Quinlan.

“We are loading the weapons. You have an hour or so—then you’ll come with us. We are getting Nora back…”

Fet turned around and walked away. Three steps later, the Lumen, the Master, and the apocalypse evaporated. There was only Nora in his mind.

Mr. Quinlan returned his attention to the pages of the Lumen and started to read.

INTERLUDE II

OCCIDO LUMEN: THE MASTER’S TALE

THERE WAS A THIRD.

Each of the holy books, the Torah, the Bible, and the Koran, tells the tale of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. So, in a way, does the Lumen.

In Genesis 18, three archangels appear before Abraham in human form. Two are said to proceed from there to the doomed cities of the plain, where they reside with Lot, enjoy a feast, and are later surrounded by the men of Sodom, whom they blind before destroying their city.

The third archangel is deliberately omitted. Hidden. Lost.

This is his story.

Five cities shared the vast, lush plain of the Yarden River, near what is today the Dead Sea. And out of all of these Sodom was the proudest, the most beautiful. It rose from its fertile surroundings as a landmark, a monument to wealth and prosperity.