Free Angel Souls and Devil Hearts by Christopher Golden

separately and together. He had always refused. They had offered to save Valerie’s life, and she had reacted with fear and disgust, being not as
open-minded as her husband. She would rather take her chances with the doctors. And George would join her when his time came.
    But for now, he lived, and he was their greatest friend among humans.
    When they had finally been seated and their orders taken, Meaghan asked him what, other than the obvious, he was worried about.
    “We’re clueless here,” he began, quietly and calmly, so as not to draw the attention of the loud crowd seated around them. “We don’t know where Mulkerrin’s
been or how he came back. We have no idea where his apparently new abilities come from, or what their limitations are. Peter’s status is unknown. We don’t know what’s gone on
inside Salzburg in the hours since the earthquake, or what’s happened to Cody and Allison Vigeant.”
    “You can rest assured,” she interrupted, “that if anything had happened to Cody, Alexandra would know of it.”
    “Well, that’s something at least,” George said, and was thoughtful for a moment before continuing. “The UN is afraid of you, all of you, I mean. But strangely enough,
mostly of you. Because of the power you hold over your people, and because of the book.”
    “I won’t . . . I can’t give up the book.”
    “I know that.” He looked at her sternly, a reminder of who he was. “I’m not suggesting that you do. The safest place for The Gospel of Shadows is with you and
Alex, away from any government, especially America’s, away from the less, shall we say civilized, of your kind, like Hannibal. In the wrong hands . . . Well, I don’t have to tell you
this, but they’re also afraid because, while they know you’re not really vampires, at least not the mythical kind, they don’t have a clue as to what you really are.”
    “Neither do we!” She raised her voice, gaining her unwanted attention from the other diners, some of whom easily recognized her. She was a celebrity after all. “Neither do
we,” she said again, quietly.
    “They didn’t believe you before,” George replied, “and now that they know we lied to them about the end of the Jihad, about Mulkerrin, they really don’t
believe you. They want to do research, to study—”
    “Out of the question, unless they have shadow scientists,” she said, stopping him. “We’ve been over this. I don’t want them trying some synthetic replication of the
process; you know where that could lead. I also don’t want them developing weapons against us.”
    Meaghan reached across and held George’s hand, tight. Their eyes met.
    “The only thing keeping the world at peace right now is their fear of the unknown, their fear of us. The more they know about us, the less frightened they become. This new order is a
tenuous thing.”
    “And Mulkerrin may be enough to bring it down,” he said. “Listen, I’ll continue to stall, and I think the truth of your words will hold them off a while, but we’ve
got to find out everything there is to know about your people . . .”
    His voice trailed off, but Meaghan heard the phrase he’d left unsaid. Before they do.
    “Peace is a dangerous place,” Meaghan said, her mind far away now.
    “A mine field,” George agreed.
    International Airspace.
Tuesday, June 6, 2000, 12:15 P.M. , EST:
    High above the Atlantic, a military transport jet carried Roberto Jimenez toward Germany. He’d been visiting relatives in New York City when the call came through. There
wasn’t a person in the world he hated more than the UN secretary general, Rafael Nieto. His boss. He’d never met a more arrogant, aggravating man. And yet, Jimenez respected his boss.
He knew the job, did it well, and earned the attention of the world.
    At forty-four, hair white at the temples and streaked through the otherwise dark, close-cut fur of his head and mustache, Jimenez was still young to have been made