When the club descended on the back of my head, I got the feeling that Saturday night was not going to be much better than Friday night had been.

There was a flash of light at the edges of my vision, and the world tilted sideways as I dropped to the ground next to my car. Someone strong tossed me over his shoulder, and I promptly fell asleep.

I awoke a good bit later, when my throbbing head bounced against something hard and smooth. It was dark. There was the sound of gravel crunching under automobile tires. I was lying on my side, with my knees drawn up to my chest, and not enough room to move them about.

My dimly functional brain idly received the information my senses faxed it, processed, and returned the conclusion that either I was in the trunk of a car or my bed had been moved to an undersized box on the back of a roller skating turtle on a pebble beach.

It ought to tell you something about my condition when I say that I puzzled over which possibility was the more likely, and eventually decided to flip a coin.

I was reaching for my pocket when dim bits of sense started sneaking past the lump on the back of my skull. My name was Nick Christian. Age 28. Height five foot seven. Weight one hundred and fifty pounds. Employed as a private investigator for Barnham and Ripely, out of Kansas City, on the Missouri side of the river.

Oh, yes. I had spent the previous evening making existence difficult for a genuine, honest-to-goodness vampire.

There's a blade of clarity which only bothers to cut through the haze of confusion when I'm already late to work. Or when I answer the phone out of a dead sleep and hear a female voice on the other side. Or when I suddenly realize that I might be about to die. I didn't have to flip a coin to decide which of these cases was applicable.

When the car came to a halt, I was tensed and ready. Heavy footsteps circled around to the trunk. A quick search with my fingertips had turned up nothing to use as a weapon (ah, for the days of tire-irons), and instead I had settled for making sure my legs were functional, and getting them more or less underneath me.

Keys rattled. The latch popped. I drove my shoulder hard against the lid of the trunk, levering my body up with my legs.

He wasn't ready for that, I guess. The lip of the suddenly rising lid took him on the underside of the chin, and sent him reeling back from the car.

The sun had gone down, and I could only see by the dim backglow of the car's headlights. My captor was a fairly large man, though he wasn't nearly so intimidating as he might be, rolling on the ground like that.

I hopped unsteadily out of the car, lurched over to the man, and started kicking him in the ribs as he tried to climb to his feet. If I felt a twinge of guilt, I couldn't notice it over the dull throbbing of my head. He buckled after the third kick and fell onto his side. I gave his abdomen two more blows before I took a step back from him, and it was then that I heard her.

"Nick Christian," she said, her voice smooth and melodic. "What a distinct pleasure it is to witness your. . . unique charms."

I straightened, tense and scared as hell. She stepped out of the darkness, an attractive young woman dressed in a long, full, gauzy skirt and a black denim jacket. She didn't look more than twenty, but the cruel twinkle in her eyes belied any innocence which might have gone with youth. She was lovely, and she was cruel, and I had watched her throw a full-grown man about like a basketball while sporting a pair of serpentlike fangs a good six inches long.

I looked about for a bit of repartee', came up short, and simply demanded "What do you want, Julianna?"

She smiled, a bright expression worthy of any cheerleader. "I want to rip your throat out, Christian," she told me pleasantly. "You made me look foolish, little man." She sighed dramatically. "I'm afraid it's going to have to be unpleasant, this way."

I bridled. Short people don't like to be reminded that they're short. Or at least I don't. Some might call me insecure, but I'd probably get upset at them for slighting me.

Anger had driven back fear, as it often did, and I cudgeled my already becudgeled brain for solutions. Time. I needed time.

"Why's that?" I responded wittily. I tried to pinpoint my location. Couldn't be far from the city, but there were trees all about.

Her lovely lips pulled up into the ghost of a smile. "I've my good reputation to think about, Christian. A family that expects certain standards to be met. Being bested by a mortal is simply unthinkable. I need to kill you. Convincingly."

The stars were occluded by light pollution. I realized with a start that I was still in the city. A park, it had to be.

"A pity," she went on. "In other circumstances, I'd have kept you for myself." The smile turned into something cold and alien. Her eyes altered subtly, also not quite human. "Your life is rich, mortal. You would sate me for weeks."

I might have been aroused at the thought--if my head didn't hurt so much. And if I hadn't seen that pretty face turn into something out of a nightmare. In the distance, there came a long, coughing sound. An animal?

The vampiress turned at the noise. "Ahhhh. . ." she breathed. "They feel the night, as well. They are hunters, Christian. Like me."

Not just an animal. A lion. I was in Swope Park, which covered several square miles of property just southeast of the city's heart and incorporated the Kansas City Zoo. It was also the single most active spot for drug-related activity, gang violence, and homicides in the town. Bodies turned up here every weekend. Whee.

"Well," Julianna said, turning back to me. "Let's make things sporting."

"Right," I said. "Give me a gun."

She laughed. "How very bold you are, Nicky. No, I think not." She pursed her lips and considered me. I suppressed a snarl. I hate being called 'Nicky'. "It's more than two miles to any edge of the park from here, mortal. Reach the outside, and I will let you go."

I considered this. If she thought I could get away, she'd never offer me the chance. Damned if I was going to play games for her amusement.

"Nah," I said. "My head hurts. Guess you'd better finish me off right here." I sat down on the cool ground, which was a much more pleasant experience than I had realized it would be.

Her eyes blazed, but she only nodded her head. "I expected you to be difficult, mortal. So I took precautions."

She gestured with one well-manicured hand, and from the shadows came a number of figures which could only loosely be termed 'men'. They were dirty, dressed in rags of clothes. Their skin was pale, their hair long and bedraggled. Their fingernails were long and dirty, their gums pulled back from their yellowed teeth. Most frightening were their eyes. They were hollowed and sunken, and every one of them was black--no whites at all--and lacking everything of the awareness of a human being.

There were three of them, and between two of them was a girl I knew. She was sixteen or so, petite, and bottle-blonde. Amy had been selling herself on the streets to be able to support her mother's cocaine habit two years ago. I had managed to get her away from that life, and had kept loose track of her every now and then ever since.

Now she looked frightened, her pale face even whiter than usual. She was dressed in army surplus combat pants, a blue KC Royals tank-top, and a men's white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up sloppily. She was shaking so hard she could barely stand, and when she saw me she cried out, "Christian!"

The vampiress stalked gracefully over to her and stroked her face with the backs of the fingers of one hand. "She's very pretty, Nicky. It would be a shame if something happened to her." Amy watched Julianna with miserable brown eyes, not daring to lean away from her touch.

Julianna absently patted the head of one of the hunched figures like it was a favorite dog. She turned back to me. "Now. You will cooperate. Give me a good hunt, and I will let her go, once I have you."

I shook my head. "No deal. If I get away, how do I know you'll not kill her?"

She seemed amused by that. "What would you have, then?"

I pointed a finger. "She goes with me." I worked up enough gumption to give Julianna a contemptuous smile of my own. "It's only fair."

She nodded, thoughtfully, and turned back to the girl. Then she murmured something to the once-men, and they reluctantly released her. Their hands left grimy smears on the clean white shirt.

She stumbled away from them and ran towards me. I painfully rose from the ground, and kept one eye on Julianna when Amy threw her arms around me and started crying.

"What's happening, Christian?" she sobbed quietly. "Who is she?"

"You'll be happier not knowing, dear," the vampiress said, without turning around. The denim jacket slid to the ground, revealing an aerobicized, bare back underneath. Julianna shook out her long, dark hair, still not turning.

"One hundred," she said.

I swallowed, pushing Amy back just enough to be able to look her in the eyes. "Listen, Amy. Listen to me. You have to do what I say, all right? No questions. We've got to run."

"Ninety-nine," Julianna said. The gauzy skirt slid over her hips, and down her long legs, and joined the jacket on the earth.

Amy blinked up at me. The half-human things leaned forward intently, as if getting ready to spring. They looked like hounds.

"Ninety-eight," Julianna purred. She stretched like a cat, extending her arms. The indirect light almost hid the claws which now tipped her white fingers.

I took Amy's hand and started off at the best pace I thought she could hold. Julianna's voice continued the steady countdown behind us. It sounded almost sensuous, as if she were taking time to taste each word.

We moved out into the darkness, following one of the concrete bicycle trails. There were lights, spaced very distantly, each a separate pool of illumination in a desert of darkness. Amy ran next to me with little gasping noises. My own breath rasped more heavily than it should have--but it had been a rough weekend, so far, too.

Julianna expected me to head for the nearest exit to the park. So, I had to do something different. The zoo wasn't far--and there might well be a night watchman on duty there. Pay phones, too. I thanked God that I hadn't put my last quarter into a Coke machine, and that the thug who'd taken me hadn't stripped my pockets.

My own mental countdown was only at twenty-nine. So when the three shapes rose up out of the shadows as we jogged past a light, it took me off guard.

Someone shoved me hard. I lost my balance and fell, taking skin off my palms on the concrete. Amy squealed, and there was rough laughter.

"What have we here, brother?" said a voice. A fellow with a switchblade in his hand stood over me, looking down at me. He wore gray and black gang colors, as did the two others with him.

"Joggers," said another, a young man with his hair shaved. "Godamned joggers."

"Juicy," said a third, an overweight youth with acne scars on both cheeks. He had Amy by both arms, and pulled her towards him. She brought a knee up into his groin, and he cried out, throwing her down before doubling over. Baldy's foot swept her hands out from under her as she moved to stand, a smooth martial-arts style move. Switchblade laughed at Acne.

"Stupid, brother. Let the little slut give you disrespect like that."

"We just see about that," Acne grated. "Hold her." Baldy leaned over and twisted the girl's arm behind her, lifting her to her feet again.

Her face was frightened, but it was a tightly controlled fear. She'd been in worse than this before, I knew. She looked over at me, biting at her lip. "Nick?"

"You kids had better get indoors before your mommy finds out you're out after dark," I said. This brought a sudden silence from them, as Switch and Acne turned to look at me. Baldy kept a hold on Amy.

I stood to my feet again. I'd been doing that a lot lately, so I'd had plenty of practice.

"You'd best just keep your mouth shut, grampa," Switchblade said. Grampa. I've got a baby face that gets me carded for every beer I buy, and this punk thought I was old. It was almost enough to make me feel ancient. My mental count was at eight.

"We're in something deep, here, kids. You don't want any part of it. Believe me."

Switchblade scowled.

"Cut him," Acne urged. The punk with the knife hesitated, looking at me, and started forward.

Lots of martial arts are there to keep you in shape. On television and in the movies you see these wiry, ripped-out young tiger-men leaping and kicking and smashing boards and so on. I don't know any of those.

Okinawan Kempo is a martial art for potbellied Japanese gardeners. It's calm, meditative, and designed to maim or kill any opponent who faces you. I know this one. There are no flying kicks or double-reverse elbow-smashes. Just a lot of quickness and power directed at fragile joints with bone-crushing force.

He started with a thrust at my belly. I slapped his wrist aside, seized it, locked his elbow with mine, and dropped my weight. There was an unpleasant sound, and the knife tumbled to the concrete accompanied by a high-pitched scream. I did feel vaguely guilty this time--I should be helping this kid off the streets, not dislocating his wrist--but knives are serious business, and time was pressing.

I left him to writhe, and stood, facing the other two. I put my very best snarl on my face, and said, clearly, "Let her go."

Baldy was about to reply when there came a long, howling sound from only yards away. Something in tattered clothes burst from the shadows and grabbed Acne by his fat throat. He gave a strangled scream as another of the man-hounds leapt onto his shoulders, clawlike nails raking at his eyes.

Baldy released the girl who immediately ran towards me. I stooped to collect the knife, retracted the blade, and pocketed it. Acne's cries ended abruptly, and a quick glance showed him on the ground under the three hounds, who gibbered and slavered. Blood was pooling out onto the sidewalk in the harsh circle of light.

Baldy turned to run, and Switch staggered away, face twisted with horror.

There was another scream, and a thump, followed by a horrible wrenching sound.

Julianna, naked, her face subtly altered into something inhuman, stepped into the circle of light. Her skin was patterned thickly with bright blood. Our eyes met for a second, and she laughed, girlishly. The motion revealed long, venomous-looking fangs, like a rattlesnake's, in her mouth.

I fought down a wave of fear and nausea that nearly drove me to my knees, sought out Amy's hand again, and turned to sprint for the gates of the zoo.

We ran for a time, feet pounding along even faster than our hearts. The parking lot was a long, lonely stretch of exposure which we hurried across. We paused in the shadow of the gates to the zoo, and I nearly collapsed against the bank of pay phones next to the entrance.

"This can't be happening," Amy gasped, speaking at last. "It just can't. What were those things?" She was breathing too hard to cry.

"Beats the hell out of me," I replied breathlessly. "Don't care, so long as they aren't here." I tried to ignore my brain, which was screaming the same things Amy had said.

"There's no time for that," I told someone. "Got to move, not talk. No time."

I drew a quarter out of my pocket with a shaking hand, and managed to get it into the tiny slot on the phone. 911 is easy to dial, thank God. It occurred to me a few seconds later that I hadn't needed to pay for the call.

I suppose I should have expected to be put on hold on a Saturday night. Something just made it inevitable. Seconds ticked by, while my own little emergency awaited its turn for official attention. It made me want to scream and pound the receiver against the wall, but as I didn't have another quarter, I elected not to.

"Metro emergency line, what is the nature of your emergency?" The prim, crisp voice that spoke from the phone made me want to weep with happiness.

I had just opened my mouth to talk, when with a howl the hounds burst from the brush at the far side of the parking lot and started loping towards us with frightening speed. Their mouths and hands were smeared with fresh blood, and their all-black eyes almost burned with eagerness to have more.

"Oh, shit," I mumbled.

"Sir. Profanity is not necessary. Tell me the nature of your emergency or I will move on to the next caller."

I blinked at the phone for a moment, choking down a dozen creative responses to the officious operator.

"Nick. . ." Amy moaned, sliding her back to the wall. The gates to the zoo were high and chained shut.

Finally I managed, "Assault in progress. KC Zoo. I need police officers here immediately."

The operator said something else, and I heard her voice buzzing as I dropped the phone, leaving it dangling. Let Julianna find it and know I'd called for help. The hounds were only a few seconds away.

"Climb," I snapped, stooping to give her a leg up to the top of the gate. She managed to grasp the top, awkwardly, and drop heavily to the pavement. I'm quite strong for my size. Hauling myself up the bars was hard, but not impossible, and I followed her into the zoo proper.

The hounds slammed against the bars behind me as we turned to move deeper into the park. One of them tore the dangling phone from its socket, and I idly wished it had been the operator's hair. Vindictive, me? Nah.

We were almost out of sight among the buildings when Julianna reached the gate. I saw her set her bloodstained hands against it, then lower her head. I didn't waste time seeing if she could break the chains. Amy was already tugging me deeper into the park.

We rushed past the ape house, and somewhere towards the front of the zoo, there was a groaning sound of tortured metal, then a deep twang. The animals in the petting zoo were rushing back and forth in a panic, the goats bleating loudly. In the ape house, out on its island, chimpanzees screamed sharply, and rushed back and forth in their enclave. The huge bears we passed, black, brown, polar, grizzly, paced back and forth, their great heads swinging. One of them snarled at us.

There was a light on in the building adjacent to the cat house. Behind us, at the front of the zoo, the animals went into a screaming frenzy. I went to the door to the lit building and pounded on it. Amy crouched next to me, peering back through the dimly-lit reaches of the zoo.

No one answered. I pounded on the door again, then paced around to the side of the building, to peer in a window.

That same coughing roar I had heard earlier nearly scared me out of my shoes. This time it came from nearby. I looked over. The great cats were kept in open cages attached to a U-shaped building, leaving a courtyard in the middle where observers could come to gawk. The cats were all out in the open-air cages. Unlike the other animals, these were completely still. Lions, tigers, leopards. Staring at me.

I shivered, turning back to the window. I peeked around the edge of the blinds, hoping to see a sleeping watchman or caretaker.

There was a grow-light on inside, a cool white radiance bathing some broad-leaved plants below it. Otherwise the room was empty. I cursed, and turned to go back around to the front of the building.

Amy appeared, hurrying around the corner in front of me, and nearly bumping into me. She clutched at my shirt and hissed, "Shhh. I saw them."

I nodded, sliding past her to peer cautiously out at the park. A dark shape scuttled through the shadows between buildings. The chorus of animal wailings was moving slowly this way, and I'd have bet dollars to donuts that Julianna was coming along with it, her hounds spread out in front of her.

I glanced around. A heavy-duty air conditioning unit squatted in the shadows next to the adjacent building. "Up," I whispered.

Amy nodded and moved quietly onto the air conditioner, then grasped the edge of the roof, scrambled with her toes for a moment, and hauled herself up.

I followed her, my head pounding. Things spun around for a second, and I dangled there by my hands, taking deep, even breaths. After the zoo stopped moving unpredictably, I finished climbing, making a small amount of noise.

There was a feral cry from somewhere below, and the sound of rushing feet.

"Damn," I mumbled. "They must have heard us."

Amy nodded, pressing close up against me. "Or smelled us."

I glanced around the roof. It nestled up against the roof to the cat house, which was another story higher. An iron-rung ladder led up to the roof of the next building.

I started to the ladder, and climbed up it. The cries of the hounds were drawing nearer, and the bears were roaring, nearly berserk, from the next set of buildings. The roof to the cat house was flat, and didn't look as if it had any other way up to it. At the other side of the building, around the 'curve' of the U, the back of the cat house pressed up against a long slope leading down to an encircling waterway, and service road. A high fence stood beyond that, and past the fence, I could see late-night traffic meandering along 63rd Street.

I called Amy up to the higher level. The first of the hounds scrambled onto the roof below us as she reached me.

"The police should get here soon," I told her. I hoped I sounded like I believed it. I pressed the closed switchblade into her hands. "Keep this. Just in case."

"What are you going to do?" she asked me.

"Keep them from getting up the ladder. I hope."

There was a set of low growlings from my left, where the open-air cages of the great cats, lightly screened over at the top with electrified wires, were located. The cages were more than twenty feet 'deep', as I looked down over the edge into them. The cats were restless now, and each pair paced silently back and forth.

The hound below paused at the foot of the long ladder, and stared up it, as if it were frightened--or had forgotten how to use it. Another joined it on the roof. Then the third.

I swallowed, trying to prepare myself. I'd never killed anyone before. I was suddenly realizing that I was going to have to, if I wanted to live.

The bears had fallen silent, when all at once, the hounds swarmed up the ladder. "Get back! Get back!" I called to Amy. She was shouting something behind me as I started kicking at the hands of the first one to reach the top. I squatted on the roof, bracing with both hands, and kicked at its face and fingers as hard as I could.

The hound screamed, its black eyes mad, as it overbalanced and tumbled backwards. It howled in fear as it fell backwards. Its scream was punctuated a moment later with a meaty crunch.

The one behind it got a hand on my ankle, its filthy nails digging into my skin. I scrambled backwards as it came further up the ladder, kicking at its face with my other foot. It ignored the kicking, hunching its shoulders and ducking its head.

It gained the roof and raked its other hand at my face. I blocked, twisted, and hammered at its nose with my fist. It screamed and rolled to one side. I rose to meet the other as it flung itself at me. I fell backwards, levered my legs under it, and lifted it high into the air towards the other side of the building. This one fell soundlessly, scratching at the edge of the roof as it went by.

"The police!" Amy shouted. "Look!"

I whipped my head around. Two cruisers had pulled up on the service road at the bottom of the hill below the cat house. Spotlights mounted on the sides of the car were being trained on us.

My surge of exultation vanished when the last hound rose and stalked slowly towards me, hands out. "Amy, is there a way down?"

"Ummmm," she said. "Yes! Yes, there's a drainpipe!"

I crouched, ready to meet it as it snarled at me. "Get down it. Run for the cops."

It drove forward then, and I cried out as one of its fingernails slipped past my defenses and grazed my eye. My own return strike went wide as tears blurred my vision, and it got its hands around my throat.

If you get someone in a really good choke hold, it only takes three to five seconds to render them unconscious. This thing was sloppy. I might have as many as fifteen.

I tried hammering sideways at its head for five seconds, but it didn't work. I grabbed at its fingers and tried to pry it off my neck for the next seven or eight seconds, but it was too strong.

There were bright points of light dancing in front of my eyes when I finally grabbed a fistful of its hair, hauled it down to me, and tore at its throat with my teeth. It was filthy and sickening and the copper burn of blood on my tongue started my stomach to wrenching around.

The hound rolled off me, releasing my neck and letting me take a breath of blessed air, covering its bleeding neck with both its hands. Gibbering in fear, it fled back to the ladder and started down. I don't know if it fell or not.

I staggered towards the drainpipe down to safety, retching up whatever was left in my stomach. The police spotlight nearly finished the job of blinding me. When I reached the drainpipe, I swung one leg over the edge of the roof, and looked down, my hurt eye still squeezed shut in pain.

Amy was nowhere to be seen.

A chill went through me. The growls and snarls of the great cats filled the night. I slowly turned around.

Julianna stood at the far end of the roof, a too-wide grin nearly splitting her face in half. She had Amy on her knees, one hand tangled in her bleached hair, the other holding deadly claws just over her throat. Amy was sobbing silently, her eyes wide and tearing.

"Admirable, mortal. And so very entertaining." She stuck out her lower lip in a mocking pout. "And you broke so many of my pets. Ah, well. No matter."

I was tired. God, was I tired. It was just too much, to have been so close. I just looked at her, breathing hard, tears streaming from my hurt eye.

"Go on, Nick," she said carelessly. "I'm finished with you." She drew her claws lightly across Amy's throat. "I'm sure the girl and I can find some way to remain occupied. Perhaps she'll even join my pack, when I'm finished with her."

She looked back at me, and her eyes gleamed.

Tired. Tired, tired, and disappointed. I had wanted to live so badly--even if it was only to spite her. I looked at the drainpipe. It wasn't too far to the ground. It would be easy to get away.

The roaring of the great cats was almost deafening.

I managed to say "Don't."

She paused, cocking her head to one side. Her naked body was warped, somehow, no longer a pleasant mask, and frightening, though her hair remained lush and rich. "What was that you said, Nick? Don't hurt the girl?"

I swallowed, and stood, starting towards her. Her smile became triumphant. "Let her go. You can have me."

She laughed, a rich, charming sound utterly at odds with her appearance.

"How very noble. How touching. How sweet." Her fangs were showing again.

I stopped, about five feet from her, and swayed on my feet. At least I could make sure Amy would get away. The police were running towards the building.

Julianna stretched out her taloned hand to me, face twisted and intent. "Take my hand, Nick Christian. Come to me."

Her fingers were cold as I touched them. And the claws that brushed my skin felt heavy and sharp, like steel scissors. She hissed and drew me to her with fantastic strength, shoving Amy heedlessly away from her. I didn't resist. There didn't seem to be much point in fighting.

The vampiress drew me to her like a lover, her arms twining about me. Her mouth spread wide, fangs gleaming, and I realized that she had taken her clothes off to avoid soaking them with blood. My blood.

I closed my eyes.

Julianna jerked suddenly, and cried out, a sound lost among the roars of the cats. I opened my eyes as one of her hands lashed out and sent Amy sprawling, then clutched at her kidneys, where the handle of the switchblade I had passed to the girl earlier protruded like a pin from a life-sized voodoo doll.

A rush of hope hit me along with the adrenaline, and I slammed my forehead into her face as hard as I could. She stumbled back, abruptly trying to escape me rather than draw me to her.

I pressed forward, keeping her off balance, from using her incredible strength. She screamed as her heels hit the edge of the building. She waved her arms for a moment, trying almost comically trying to keep her balance, then fell gracefully backwards, towards the lions' cage.

The wire over the top bore her weight for a moment, snapping and spitting sparks and burning a crosshatched design matching the electrified wires into her pale, spasming flesh. Then it collapsed, and she fell heavily to the floor of the cage.

Julianna was savage, beautiful, incredibly powerful--everything a hunter should be.

Unfortunately for her, so were the lions.

The roars of the great cats rose to thunder. Then, like thunder, they died away.

The KC Police never really did figure out what had happened. I wasn't exactly thrilled with the notion of telling them my version of events, either. I like my shirt sleeves to be in the front, thank you. I told them I couldn't remember anything. That head injury, you see.

Amy told them much the same--that she had been too frightened to clearly recall events. I always knew she was a smart girl. That last moment of courage had cost her a broken collarbone, but she bore it without complaint. I think she was too happy to be alive.

In the end, they decided that some of the cats had escaped the zoo, clawed up a pair of gang members in the park, and killed a young woman. Other gang members, who had abducted Amy, were killed, but no charges were ever brought against me. Self-defense, they said, and lack of evidence.

I finally got to sleep in a cell. Oddly enough, I felt pretty safe. They let me out the next day, bandaged in a dozen different places.

I got into my car. The sun would be going down in a few more hours.

Only one thing really bothered me, now that the vampiress was dead.

Family. She said she had a family.