The caravan reached Georgetown just before sundown the next day, though David was not there to see it. The following day the trio of humans got what supplies they could and set out to meet David outside one of the bolt holes that Megan knew.

David greeted them as darkness fell. "Everything go okay?" he asked.

"Pretty much," said Mack. "How about you, anything exciting happen?"

David had a sudden, vivid recollection of standing between the pack and the road train, of being half certain he would die, but he just shrugged. Telling the story wouldn't serve any purpose. "Not really."

They set out into the moonlight night, David leading the way. Before long, however, Megan began to lag behind.

"I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I... didn't sleep well the last few days."

David thought of her nightmares, and suddenly wished that he'd been able to be there on the caravan with her. "Here, give me your pack," he said, and after putting it on, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her. She leaned against him, and was soon dozing. He was aware, for a moment, of the scent of her blood, and in the back of his head the pressure of need clamored, but he put it out of his mind and concentrated on walking, on keeping a brisk enough pace without actually going too fast for the two humans to keep up, and that was distracting enough.

They went on silently into the night, and made good enough time that they reached the halfway point, and Aidan's old bolt hole there, with an hour or so to spare.

"Sorry I can't offer you an actual bed," said David, "And sorry it's so cramped, I think one of you might want to sleep out in the tunnel, if you don't mind."

"You spend most of your days in these little caves?" asked Mack.

David nodded. "I have an actual home, I think most vampires do, but when I'm out hunting I can't always get back to it before daylight."

Jeff shook his head. "Not exactly luxury."

David shrugged. "Once the sun is up, I'm usually out cold, so I don't mind."

Mack chuckled. "I've bunked in worse spots, to tell the truth. I think I'll sleep in the tunnel."

Megan stirred and yawned in David's arms. He put her down gently on the pile of old blankets. "Here. Are you still tired?"

She nodded. "Yeah... I haven't really slept much."

He smiled at her. "Well, you should sleep well today."

She smiled back.

Jeff and Mack exchanged amused glances, but Megan and David didn't notice, they just curled up together.

Megan dropped off immediately, but the sun hadn't yet risen, and David couldn't sleep. He lay staring at the ceiling, listening to Megan's breathing. He could tell when Jeff and Mack both fell asleep, tired out by the long night's walk. He closed his eyes and put one arm over Megan. He could hear her heartbeat, and as other distractions vanished he also became aware of her scent. She smelled mostly of ordinary human scents, of sweat, and dust, with lingering notes of her most recent meal and a hint of the indefinable scent of "city", but under all that was the alluring scent of her blood.

He opened his eyes again, trying to distract himself by looking at the patterns in the sandstone ceiling above. But now that he'd noticed it, he couldn't ignore it. The pressure of need, of hunger was intense. He had felt it building every day, every time he held her. Most days they went to bed at sunrise, and he slipped off quickly into slumber before he could do anything he would regret, but some nights she had been tired earlier, and he found he couldn't bring himself to ask her to stay up. He would have to tell her why, and the idea was somehow impossible, he couldn't even picture the conversation. Holding her made him feel protective, a surprisingly good feeling, but the growing hunger was always there, always demanding. He had thus far managed to resist the urge, though the week of her woman's cycle had been nearly unbearable, the blood smell so strong that even a human nose might have faintly detected it. But that had been when she had been with him no more than a handful of days, and the need had been weaker then. Now... he tallied up the days. Seventeen days together at the cabin. Two days to reach Cottonwood City. Two more days to find Mack. Three days waiting for the caravan, five days on the road, and one day in Georgetown. Thirty days, a full month. Nearly the longest he had ever gone without tasting human blood. He had been so busy, he hadn't noticed the time slipping by. He held his breath, hoping to block out the scent, but it crept in anyhow. Or perhaps he just imagined it. He'd tasted her blood before, he knew the flavor of it, the scent of it. He could nearly taste it now. He gritted his teeth together. I cannot. I cannot just take from her like this. It would be wrong. It would be like rape, to bite her and take without her permission. I cannot. He repeated it to himself as a litany, over and over, and at long last the sun edged above the invisible horizon and he was able to sleep.