I gazed out my bedroom window at Cemetery Raven, watching the sky darken to night. The moment it did, I knew Zil would be out.

An entire week had passed since I'd stumbled onto his horrifying truth. Because of it, I'd stopped going anywhere at night, including Rhys' house. I hadn't even gone to Cortland Bridge to retrieve my recorder, though I'd have to at some point. I'd considered asking Rhys to come with me, but if he did, as bad as the bridge was, I was sure it couldn't compare to Zil, and if he was there ... I didn't know how far his promise to not harm would extend.

Being away from Zil, I'd had time to think. When I'd fled his tomb, he begged me not to go. I had anyway ... and he let me. He hadn't even come lurking or knocking on the door to say to keep his secret safe, I'd have to die. Instead, he'd stayed away.

Finally, I'd come to a scary conclusion – I owed him the chance to explain, and I knew just where to find him. Not a tomb, not the tomb – his tomb. But there was another reason in my going there. It would test my ability to be in his presence – and to secretly acknowledge that the privilege of knowing him was ... indescribable.

I left my bedroom and walked downstairs. Stopping in front of the mirror, I gazed at my reflection. I looked normal, and hoped I still would when I saw Zil, and that my fear of what he was wouldn't show. I went to the door and opened it – the recorder was on the porch. I picked it up, and saw underneath it a white rose petal. "Another mystery solved," I murmured.

"Chere – Ashe, I ..."

Zil was next to the tree, hands in his front pants' pockets – looking human, looking harmless.

I held up the recorder. "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

"How did you know?"

"I have a confession."

"More than, 'I'm a vampire – surprise'? Because I think I'll believe anything right now."

"I wanted to come before tonight, but I could hear your tormented thoughts."

"You read my thoughts?"

Zil nodded.

I murmured, "You said you could."

"Ashe, we do not need to behave as if anything has changed."

I wanted to laugh, scream ... shake him. "Zil, a lot has changed. Maybe not for you, but for me it has, in a very big way! I'm going to ask you a question and I want an honest answer. Cortland Bridge ...?"

"It is not permitted. In the mortal world, that bridge is old, decrepit ... condemned. But that is not all it is. It is a passage into parts of the Underground – my world. It is only one of many entrances, but the most perilous for anyone who does not belong. Mortals who go beyond the bend are dealt with harshly." Watching me closely, he added, "That is the reason I warned you away. In your encounter with Montague, he enhanced your ability to see ghosts, but only to hurt you. Before he could do worse, I stopped him."

"You stopped ...? Who's Montague – and what 'worse' could he have done?"

Zil exhaled slowly. "He is an evil magician, and might have killed you outright. The voices you heard were Montague trying to lure you deeper into the bridge while Gregory attempted to frighten you away."

Given how serious he was being, I didn't doubt his honesty. "And Gregory's the good one?"

"Yes."

I thought back to the moment I'd awakened inside the gazebo, the morning after the night I thought I'd been attacked ... and suddenly understood why I had recognized Zil's voice when we'd first spoken. "You saved me."

He nodded.

"But if Montague's your friend ..."

"Montague has no friends."

"Why did he enhance my ability? I didn't even know I had ... ability." Trailing off to a barely audible whisper, I finished, "At least not until I came to Mannix."

"You possess an energy that only the supernatural is aware of. It allows you to sense us even when you cannot see us. It radiates from you ..." He paused before adding, "Because of it, they will always be drawn to you."

"Like ghosts – and you?"

Zil lowered his eyes and answered softly, "Yes."

"So, you and Montague are ..."

"Immortal."

With that one word, the impact of everything he'd said was driven home as if it was newly realized. "The night he hurt me, you were there. If you're able to move so quickly, then why didn't you stop him? Is he faster than you?"

"It is hard to explain."

"Try."

"Our speed is comparable, but he had removed you from me. Do you remember when I said time was slowed so a mortal's mind could understand?"

"Yes."

"Using magic, Montague manipulated how time passed in your mind so you would experience, and comprehend, everything the way he intended for you to."

"Time ... comprehend? Zil, what does that mean?"

"In the mortal world, time is a measure of something. But in my world, time is nonexistent. Everything happens much quicker. Had Montague not changed your perception, it would have been too much for your mind, and you would have gone mad."

"Mad?" I murmured.

"Insane," he replied softly.

"I ... don't need clarity." I felt sick. I had accused Zil of being a weirdo who believed he was supernatural, not knowing just how accurately I'd called it ... and he was an unexplained being ... in every sense of the word!

"Ashe ... I wanted to shelter you."

Ignoring what he'd just said, I blurted out, "Have I seen others?"

"Yes."

"Are they at my school?"

"No."

A long, awkward silence passed. I wanted to not be quiet, to ask questions, but my mind was a blank. To try and alleviate the turmoil I felt, I turned on the recorder – but heard only static. I shut it off.

Zil said, "Montague."

We stood there, both of us silent. Just as the strain had almost reached the point of being unbearable, Zil said, "Maybe if I told you how it came to be, you will see me as less of a monster."

Monster. It was something I hadn't considered. By definition, Zil was. By his actions with me, he wasn't, and though I wasn't sure why, his self-deprecation bothered me. "You're not."

"No? Have you been told that my kind are cuddly and harmless?"

"No," I admitted quietly.

"You are right. We are not."

"'We' ... as in 'others'? Zil, you're scaring me."

His expression softened. "Ashe, I am sorry. Come, please." He extended his hand. I glanced at it warily and he lowered it. "If you like, I will tell you my story, but I caution you – it will seem unreal."

Feeling as if I should brace against the unknown, and only because he seemed to understand how traumatized I'd been by seeing his vampirien side, I decided to take a leap of faith and hear him out. "Okay, but not here."

"Where, then?"

"Cemetery Raven."

An eyebrow rose. "Are you sure?"

"I can't think of a better place. I haven't been inside it since ..."

His eyes dulled. "I know. I have waited. It pains me to have to accept that I am the cause of your staying away."

"I went into your ... I broke in. Technically, you were protecting your ... home." I hesitated before asking, "Whose name is on the outside?"

"I will explain everything. Come. Let us go."

Though it was a request and not a demand, I wondered if, by wanting to trust him, I'd just stupidly consented to putting my life in danger. I went down to the sidewalk to join him, and together, we walked in silence past the houses on my street to the place I'd suggested.

When we entered through the gate of Cemetery Raven, Zil politely motioned to a nearby, broken slab. We went to it and sat, but apprehensive over his close proximity, I fought not to move away.

For a long moment, he seemed lost in thought. In an effort to break the tension, I asked, "Is Zil a French name?"

"No. It is not my given name."

My curiosity sparked. "What was it?"

"Ange. It stands for Angel." Zil looked at me and his voice was soft. "Is this the last time you will test your resolve to trust me?"

I didn't know how to answer him. In that instant, my mind was flooded with ways to cope ... getting up and deserting him, running away, even threatening to expose him if he didn't leave me alone ... but I wouldn't. "Is that what you say to all of your victims?"

With a pained look, he glanced away, his jaw clenched.

"I'm sorry. I'm just ..."

"I understand." He looked back at me. "I am angry at myself, not at you. I caused you to be afraid and horrified." He exhaled softly and slowly began, "I spent my young life at home with my mother, my sister, Veronique, and my two brothers, Marcel and Etienne. I had a happy childhood and wanted more than anything to go into the service of God. Though desire is regarded as a sin, it was in that desire where I found my peace." He paused. "Until the day I was shanghaied by my father and made into a pirate."

"What – a pirate?"

"Yes. I am, in truth, very old."

Sensing his uneasiness, I asked carefully, "How old?"

"Over two-hundred-years old."

"Two ... hundred?" I breathed out.

"My father, that uncommon bastard, was a pirate. He, along with his wife and children, and other settlers, came here by ship. After he had established shelter for us, he left us to return to France. For most of our lives, he was away. I knew only very little about him – that he was a sailor ... and exceedingly mean. One day, when I was fourteen-years-old, a young man by the standards of my time, I saw him in town. I did my best to avoid him, but he caught up to me and insisted I go with him to the harbor. I had only been on a ship once, our crossing voyage, and remembered enjoying it. Naïve to his intentions, I agreed. It was a large vessel. On board, the men and other boys were all strangely dressed, and laughed when they saw me." Zil's eyes met mine. "I was unaware that my future was decided for me the moment my feet touched those planks. Later, he admitted that whichever of his sons he had seen that day, that son would be the one taken captive." Then, with a look I couldn't decipher, he continued. "When the sail was set with me still on board, I expressed my concern to my father. He replied that I was to become a pirate, just like him. I broke away and tried to jump overboard. He pulled me back and threatened that if I told any of the crew of our relationship, I would be used for fish bait. He then ordered me to take another name."

"What name did you choose?"

"I took the first letters of my grandfather's name. His name was Zacharie Ives Lazare – Zil."

Like puzzle pieces finally fitted together, a realization dawned. The 'Lazare' tomb ... his tomb, the one with his name on it, meant for him in his death, the one I favored ...! I gazed in the direction of the mausoleum. "So, that name, Ange Lucien Lazare, on the outside of your tomb was ... your birth name," I stated softly, looking back at him.

His nod was almost unperceivable. "Yes. The day after I had turned the age of twenty-three, we reached an island and set anchor. I was sent out with two other men on a scouting mission to see what we could find. I became separated from them and happened upon a native girl. She is the one responsible for what I am today."

"And your father?"

Zil averted his eyes. Quietly, and venomously, he replied, "He died shortly afterward."

Fearing his memory would anger him, I shrank back. But instead of changing into his vampirien self again, Zil's intensity faded and he swiveled to face me. "Lazare, in French, the meaning is, 'My God had helped'. I do not know if my God has helped me, but I am here to help you." He humbly bowed his head. "At your service."

His ridiculous gesture helped me to relax a little and I gave a small smile.

"Would you like to ghost hunt tonight?"

My smile faded and I tensed.

"Ashe, if you fear me still and do not wish to go, I will understand. But I would like to make up for the fright you have suffered. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Nearly speechless, I looked at him closely. "What?"

"Can you forgive me?"

I hadn't been mistaken. A vampire, a vicious killer by nature, had just asked for my forgiveness!

"Ashe, tell me what you want. May we stay friends?"

It would be a risk, and I was unsure. But moved by how carefully he was treating me and his apparent concern for my feelings, I decided to give him a second chance. "Yes."