Illya had never known cold until he took the Ancient One's hand.  The cold burned into him like a flame reaching to his bones.  As the cold burned into him, he watched as the colors drained from the world around him and then faded away completely.

Come my son, the voice reverberated through his skull, we have much to do and a great distance to travel before the sun rises.

With that, Illya felt a tug and he was gliding through the walls of the U.N.C.L.E. fortress.  His body faded, became thinner, and finally turned to a mist in the other's control.  They flew through the New York City sky, following the moonlit trail that raced over the ocean.  Within minutes, they were far from shore, heading off over the Atlantic.

Below them, Illya sensed the racing forms of porpoises and the rare whale.  Ships seemed to crawl under their wraith like forms.  And when they passed the sailors crossed themselves at the sudden icy cold that emanated from them.

Finally, they reached the coast of Africa.  From there, Illya was led deep into the wilds, places that were uncharted even in this modern age.  High, unnamed mountains, covered by rich, thick forests sped by below them.  When Illya was completely confused by the terrain, lost within the vast, untouched forests, the mists dropped, plunging through the trees and following a deep crevasse.

You will be safe here during the sunlit hours, the voice slid through Illya's mind like a drug, warming his cold bones as it forced him back into his normal body.  This is the original home of our kind, the Lilim and the Nephelim.  This is where our Great Mother birthed the original Lilim and Nephelim.  Here, just a stone's throw from the Gates of Eden.

Illya looked around the cave, surprised by its splendor.  Once inside, beyond the first curve of the stone walls, everything a man could want was to be found.  Thick rugs protected his feet from the stone floor. Heavy, ornate hangings covered the walls and gave him impressive tapestries to study.  An ancient wooden bed, each of the four corner posts made from a single tree trunk stood at the far side of the cave, covered with silken comforters and brocaded pillows.  On a low wooden table, silver rimmed goblets sat around a silver and blue glass bottle in a silver, ice-filled bucket.

Drink, my child, for you thirst and are weak, the Great One led him to the table and poured the wine-red liquor from the bottle.  It is the finest wine mixed with the finest, purest blood on the planet, I believe you will like it.

Illya looked at it and frowned.

Do you refuse me?  The dark eyes laughed at him.  Is my blood not good enough for the Prince and Heir of the Vampyr?  Drink.  For if you do not, I will kill go back for your Napoleon.  He would make me a good appetizer, don't you think so?

Resigned, Illya took the offered goblet and sipped.

Good, now come to me.

He could no longer resist the voice that whispered in his mind, in his blood, and in his bones.  He could feel their kinship.  He could feel the lines of time that stretched from his present to the Other's past. They were kindred, Lilim and Vampyr.  When the Great One beckoned, Illya turned.  When he felt the cold hand upon his neck, he tilted his head, arching his neck to the other's teeth.

And in his hand, he gripped Napoleon's crucifix, knowing he only had one chance. one single, slight, deadly chance.  And if he failed, they would both die.

Napoleon shivered.  It was so cold he could feel the ice forming on his bones.

"His core temperature is still falling," the U.N.C.L.E. doctor could not believe his eyes.  He had packed every heating pad and every thermal blanket on the agent, but nothing was helping.  "He will not be able to survive much more of this, sir."

Alexander Waverly nodded, bowing his head to the inevitable.  Beside him, resting on a gurney, pale as death, was Valentine.  The ancient vampyr was barely alive.  Only the rapid thinking on the part of one of the young agents who had rushed in on hearing the attack had kept his soul mate from dying.  Even now, with IV lines pumping blood into the vampyr, it was a close thing.  The wounds he had gotten from being thrown through a wall were still healing - closing slowly under the influence off several hundred tiny stitches by one of U.N.C.L.E.'s best surgeons.

"What happened in there?"  The doctor asked quietly. He was rarely surprised by what he saw here, but this . the destruction of the Headquarters, the damage to the ancient vampyr, and the cold killing Napoleon had all been a shock to him. "Is this the End, Alexander?  Are we really in the time of prophecy?"

"I am afraid so," Alexander admitted wearily.  "And we have lost our best defense for the battles to come."