“Oh? Then I'm coming with you." Yasna was still wearing the dress she had worn to the play. Pale as green leaves, it looked wonderful against her dark skin. Althea forced herself to look away.

“Don't be ridiculous. You're not going anywhere with me."

“You can't stop me."

“I can't stop you? You, a human?" She snapped her fingers in Yasna's face, trying to make her voice hard. "It would take me that long to get you out of my way if I wanted."

“But you won't." Yasna crossed her arms in front of her chest, her back still firmly pressed against the door, blocking her escape.

“Why not?"

“Because you don't really want to Leave. You want someone to ask you to stay."

“Stay? With you?" She Laughed, though the effort tore at her throat.

“Don't flatter yourself, Yasna. You're cute, but I've slept with dozens of women more attractive than you."

“Maybe." She raised her chin bravely. "But none of them are here right now, are they?"

"No, they're not. They're dead. Just like you will be, in time. Like everyone else in this house.”

“True. A doctor has to get used to the idea of death. To know that too often, we fail." Her lips twitched. "My job taught me early the unpleasant truth about my own mortality.

Her voice softened. "Tell me, Althea. Has anyone ever thanked you for what you do for us? Thanked you for the centuries of service?

“I will. Thank you, Althea. Thank you for protecting us. Thank you for doing what no one else can. Thank you for standing between us and the forces of darkness. Thank you for my life. Because I know that if you had failed last night, I would have died. I looked into Kincaid's eyes and saw my own death.

“Thank you."

Caught off guard, Althea blinked. Her mouth opened, but no words emerged. Suddenly, with an almost audible snap, her iron will broke, destroyed not by anger, but by understanding and kindness. Weeping, she fell into Yasna's arms. Terrible, shuddering sobs wracked her body, the culmination of centuries of pent-up grief. Yasna cradled her against her chest while she cried herself out. It seemed to take hours, but when she was done, she felt emptied-out and calm.

“Poor baby," Yasna whispered. Somehow they were both sitting on the floor. She wiped away her tears with her thumb, her fingers lingering on her cheek.

“You needed that."

"I did." She took a deep breath, then let it out in a sigh. She felt emptied-out, but her will was firm.

“It doesn't change anything, you know. I'm still leaving. I can't...I can't stay here and watch you all die. Not without something to live for."

“If you could have something, what would it be? What would make it worth it to stay here with us?"

Bitter, hopeless longing surged up within Althea. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, "A baby." She closed her eyes as she confessed her innermost desire.

“The Messenger of God declared that none of our kind would ever become pregnant. Or sire a child. That despite our passion for humans, we were cursed to eternal barrenness."

Yasna nodded, as if this came as no surprise. "And what if I told you I could give you a baby?"

Althea stared at her, shock warring with anger. "You can't." Her voice was flat. "Don't joke about it. It's not funny. Don't you think