The vampire guard stared down at him with equal rage.

“No one enters without an appointment,” he snapped. “You’re going to have to leave and come back another time.”

“I enter anywhere I choose,” Kyle seethed back. “And if you don’t remove your hand from my wrist, you’re going to suffer greatly.”

The guard stared back, and they were in a deadlock.

“I see that some things never change,” came a voice. “It’s okay, you can let him go.”

Kyle felt the grip release, and turned and saw a familiar face: it was Lore, one of the chief advisers to the Council. He stood there, staring at Kyle, smiling, slowly shaking his head.

“Kyle,” he said, “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Kyle, still fuming from the guard, straightened his jacket and slowly nodded. “I have business with the Council,” he said. “It can’t wait.”

“I’m sorry, old friend,” Lore continued, “it’s a full agenda for today. Some of them have been waiting for months. Pressing vampire business in every corner of the world, it seems. But if you come back next week, I think I might be able to accommodate—”

Kyle stepped forward. “You don’t understand,” he said tensely, “I didn’t come from this time. I came from the future. Two hundred years into the future. From a vastly different world. The final judgment has arrived. We are on the brink of victory—total victory. And if I don’t see them right away, there will be grave consequences for us all.”

As Lore stared back, his smile dropped, as he realized the seriousness; finally, after several tense moments, he cleared his throat. “Follow me.”

He turned and strode off, and Kyle followed closely on his heels.

Kyle passed down a long, wide corridor, and within moments, he entered the huge, open chamber. It was immense, wide open, with a soaring, circular ceiling and a marble, shining floor. The room was shaped in a circle, and its periphery was filled with ornate columns and statues looking down on the room, mounted on pedestals.