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Informationen zum Autor Whitley Strieber is the author of many novels and works of non-fiction, including such legendary titles as THE WOLFEN and THE HUNGER. He lives in Texas with his wife. Klappentext “Bloody, lush, and gripping” ( Publishers Weekly ), the eternal story continues in this bestselling sequel to Whitley Strieber’s horror classic, The Hunger. Miriam Blaylock knows the secrets of civilization, the mysteries of life—and the agony of undeath. For centuries, she has traveled the world undetected. Until now. Interpol agent Paul Ward has cleansed continents of vampires, orchestrated the extermination of an ancient lair, and obtained their sacred Book of Names. He knows where they hide. He knows when they feast. And he knows their weaknesses. But he has a weakness of his own: Miriam. Cunning and elusive, she has escaped his complex network of hunters for years. Toxic and seductive, she has become his obsession. Now, predator is about to become prey. Killer to become lover. Good and evil will become inexorably entwined as the endgame begins for the last vampire. Chapter One The Conclave Everyone knew the sins of Miriam Blaylock. Her crime, and it was an unforgivable one, was to enjoy human beings as friends and lovers, rather than to simply exploit them. She could kiss them and find it sweet, have sex with them and afterward sleep like a contented tiger. To her own kind, this was perversion, like a man with a sheep. The fact that this prejudice was nonsense did not make what she was doing now any easier. She pressed herself back against the seat of the pedicab, instinctively keeping her face hidden, not only from man, but from her own kind. The samlor moved swiftly down the wet street, spattering through puddles left by the last storm. From the shadows of the passenger compartment, she watched a concealing fog rising from the moat that surrounded the ancient Thai city of Chiang Mai. How could she ever do this impossible thing? How could she ever face her own kind? Some theorized that she must have human blood in her family. The idea that there could be interbreeding was absurd, of course -- nothing but an old husband's tale. She despised the narrowness of her kind, hated what, in recent centuries, their lives had become. They had once been princes, but now they lived behind walls, kept to the shadows, appeared in the human world only to hunt. They had opted out of man's technological society. They knew human breeding, but human technology was simply too intimidating for them. Miriam owned a thriving nightclub in New York and had bookkeepers and assistants and bartenders, all humans. She had computers to run her accounts. She could access her stock portfolios using her PalmPilot, and she made money on the markets, plenty of it. She had a cell phone and GPS in her car. They didn't even have cars. Once the buggy no longer bounced along behind the horse, they had simply stopped riding. The same with sails. When ships lost their sails, her kind stopped traveling the world. And airplanes -- well, some of them probably weren't yet aware that they existed. The other rulers of the world were now just shadows hiding in dens, their numbers slowly declining due to accidents. They called themselves the Keepers, but what did that mean nowadays? Gone was the time when they were the secret masters of humankind, keeping man as man keeps cattle. Truth be told, the Keepers were in general decline, but they were far too proud to realize it. Conclaves were held every hundred years, and at the last ones Miriam had seen a change -- Keepers she had known a thousand years had followed her mother and father into death. Nobody had brought a child, nobody had courted. Despite their failure, Miriam valued her kind. She valued herself. The Keepers were essential to the justice and meaning of the world. That was why she had come ...
