It was a five day journey from Cottonwood to Georgetown by road train, which meant four nights on the road. The caravan camped during darkness. Moving at night was too risky, it was too easy for vampires to lay traps ahead of the caravan. So it remained motionless, surrounded by lights and sentries, while the sun was down.

It was also guarded by David, who caught up with the caravan each night and stood watch until nearly sunrise.

When three nights had passed with no sign of vampires, David almost dared hope for an uneventful journey. But only a few hours after sundown on the fourth night, he sensed something in the distance.

If he hadn't already been ghost pale he would have blanched dead white. It was huge, easily the largest source he'd seen. And that meant... they were going to actually attack the caravan, that was what it had to mean. They'd gotten together a large enough group to try and take out the lights, take the whole thing. Which meant that he couldn't just avoid them, he had to fight. Maybe, just maybe, if his friends hadn't been there he might have moved on. Dying would mean that the vampires would be free again to do as they pleased, and so he might have weighed the options and decided to go rather than to stand and die. But Megan, Mack, and Jeff were there. He simply couldn't abandon them.

As the distant vampires drew nearer, the source split into two. Each of those groups seemed about the size of the group he'd met in the lair near Cottonwood. Fourteen vampires. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. God.

The two groups circled around, obviously planning to take the unsuspecting caravan from either side. But they paused there, still beyond eyesight or earshot in the desert. There was a long moment of utter stillness, and David realized that they must be debating what to do about him. They could sense him as easily as he could sense them. They might just assume he was another pack of vampires, but they had to at least suspect that he might be the Hunter.

I wish they couldn't sense me, he thought. If there were some way to take them by surprise, some way to not be visible... And then he almost laughed. Aidan's last lesson! He'd never used the "vanishing" trick. He hadn't needed to. But now... He took a deep, steadying breath, trying not to think too hard about the insanity of attempting to lure in seven or more vampires at once. He moved to stand directly between the group on his side of the road and the caravan. He settled his hat firmly on his head, and drew his sword. Once he did this, he wouldn't be able to move until he was ready to drop the illusion and fight. Then he closed his eyes. He wouldn't need sight, it would only distract him. He pictured the white room. He had practiced it often enough to not need the trick with the dissolving object. He simply pictured white, blank, nothingness, until that was all that existed. He felt utterly still. He was blank. He was faintly, peripherally aware still of the sense of vampires in the distance, but that wasn't a conscious awareness, any more than peripheral vision is. There was nothing real in the universe but the bright white emptiness.

Some part of him, more instinct than real thought, was still tracking the vampires. The groups stayed where they were for a while. To their senses another pack of vampires had just vanished, snuffed out in a single instant, without a sound. They were no doubt nervous, even afraid. The group on the far side of the caravan remained distant, not wanting to circle around the road train's lights to see what had happened. Eventually the group on the near side slowly approached.

He sensed them nearing, heard their footsteps, but he was still lost in the blank, white space. It was not yet time to exist again. He would know when it was. They stopped again when they were close enough to catch sight of him, a single cloaked figure, bearing hat and sword, standing between them and the light. They slowly drew closer. David was aware of a growing tension. Soon he would be unable to stay in the meditative state. And then the first of them ran at him. Perhaps the vampire thought he was just a human. Perhaps it just couldn't stand the waiting any more. Whatever the reason just one of them leaped at David, ahead of the others.

He snapped back into being and met the vampire's attack with his sword. The slice wasn't quite perfect, he'd slit its throat almost all the way back, but hadn't quite managed to kill it. But it made a strangled sound and clutched at its neck, no longer a threat for that instant, at least. David was dimly aware of the details, that it had been male, of average build, with light hair, but some of the meditative state was still with him, and he moved in a supernatural calm, striking past the first with all his speed to take a second one, this time getting the clean stroke he wanted, taking off one of the vampire's upraised hands along with its head. And then the others broke, scattering into the night.

He ran down one more, then stopped. Five sources scattered off into the darkness, there had been eight of them. He turned, and finished off the one he had first struck. The group on the far side of the caravan retreated back into the night. Whatever had just happened, they obviously wanted none of it.

David leaned on his sword for a moment, feeling very strange. It had been so fast... He'd just effectively faced down more than a dozen vampires. He started to shake. God! They could have taken me. Just that one group could have taken me! He shook himself and took a deep breath. They hadn't. He was still alive, and the caravan and his friends were still safe. That was all that mattered.