 
# Mere Mortal

# By Katie Roman

© 2014, Katie Roman  
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Cover Artist: Skylar Faith

Printed in the United States of America

To Erin, you've been there since the very beginning

And to Caroline & Jessica, who helped immensely in making this happen

One

I tried not to shake. I suppose it wouldn't matter. She probably already sensed my nervousness. I had never been truly afraid of the Others until I met Angie Winter. White blonde, tiny, yet imposing, with the same presence as a tiger on the loose. A big, scary, man-eating tiger. My name is Samantha Dunmore. I'm an adult. I shouldn't be afraid of things that go bump in the night.

When Angie came into my office everything went cold. Her very presence was enough to suck the warmth from the room. An ice tiger on the prowl. I tried covertly to deep breathe, to keep my heartbeats even. She could probably hear my heart pounding away even though I smiled congenially. Her eyes strayed to my neck. I felt like she could see my pulsing veins beneath my turtleneck. I zipped up my hoodie as extra protection. Not that clothing could keep me safe if Angie decided to act. If she wanted me, she could easily take me.

Her eyes locked with mine. They softened, drawing me into a sense of security. Her pupils dilated, overtaking the green of her irises until only black orbs were visible. She licked her lips in a sloppy way. I blinked and when her spell was broken I knew she had just been messing with me.

"Stop that," I ordered. I felt like a weak willed fool. My face flushed and my ears grew hot. I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed and puffed my annoyance. I gritted my teeth together, but refused to break eye contact. It was clear I was embarrassed, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing me cowed.

I pulled her file from my desk. "Did you bring your consent forms?" I wanted to see her through our meeting and be done with her until next month.

Without a word she bent down to pull a few papers from inside her motorcycle helmet. She threw them onto my desk, there were about ten pages. Ten people had given their permission. Ten. It boggled my mind. "And they're notarized, dearie," she sneered, showing her teeth. I tried not to stare at them.

I flashed an uncomfortable smile, letting her condescending remark slide. I checked the notary seal and signature. It looked good, nice and legal. Vampires had to bring their...dinner I guess...to one of the all night notaries in the area to get proof this wasn't simple violence. It was weird to me that ten people had agreed this month. Last month she had come in with an astounding twenty-five. Angie could have knocked me over with a feather when she handed over that stack.

"It's all in order I guess." I opened my desk again to retrieve my "CLEARED" stamp and ink pad. I eyed the cross next to my box of paper clips. I had been tempted to use it before, but I wasn't so sure that I had the faith to give it power. I grabbed the stamp and ink, slamming the drawer closed.

"We 'Others' were surviving and doing things long before you human fools added your rules and bureaucracy."

I opened my mouth to argue, but quickly changed my mind. "Please don't hassle me, Ms. Winter. I only work here."

"Can I go now?" Her tone was impatient, but her body was relaxed. She leaned back in her chair, exuding confidence and a devil may care attitude.

I double checked all her documents before giving them my stamp of approval. The red letters marred each page, a deep red, the color of fresh blood. I made a mental note to get black ink.

I blew softly on each page to help the ink dry faster. Angie Winter was now cleared to take the blood of these ten unfortunates for next month.

In one fluid movement she was out of her chair. "Miss Dunmore." I blinked and she was gone. I let a long stream of air escape through my lips. My office suddenly seemed cheerier. Even the empty desk opposite mine looked a little happier with Angie's exit. Others, especially vampires, had this effect on places.

I had studied social work in college and was a junior when the Others came out. I was recruited out of school to help keep track of their activity. It's my job to register Others, newly turned or those who are just coming forward. Witches get licenses, werewolves get tagged, and vampires have to prove they're not taking blood from unwilling victims. All very bureaucratic, all very painless, also somewhat annoying.

My job's not so bad. I don't meet with too much resistance from clients. I generally only work with newly turned vampires, but I have a few that are older. I wasn't too afraid of vampires, excluding Angie. I knew if one followed me home he/she couldn't enter my home without my permission. And generally if a vampire propositioned me a firm "no" from me stopped unwanted advances.

I hadn't had much preference to who my client base was. Others were each equally dangerous. Witches could summon demons and level curses. Vampires could break necks, bones, and drain bodies. And werewolves could sniff you out and maul you in your sleep. To avoid running afoul of anyone I just smiled and remained pleasant.

I did have moments of doubt about my chosen profession. The empty desk across from mine had belonged to a young woman who was mauled last month. I sometimes stared at the computer monitor that collected dust and the empty desktop she once had family photos on. I shivered to think of her bloodied body being carried out of the parking lot during the full moon. It made me leery of werewolves, more than witches or vampires, even though I knew most had control over their animal instincts.

After the incident my supervisor, Sean Benson, a gorgeous, funny, kind, intelligent, loyal, and did I mention hot, werewolf fell out of favor with most of the office. He never gave anyone a reason to dislike him, but anyone who didn't work closely with him became leery. I continued my routine as normal, knowing he could smell my fear, but he was polite enough never to call me out on it.

I stared fixedly at the empty desk across from me when Sean leaned into my office. His hair was an unmanageable golden brown hair. It fought hard against the product he used to tame it. He sported a constant five o'clock shadow. He looked good in his jeans and black t-shirt, a casual blazer adding just a touch of class. I could see his muscle underneath. I wanted to give them a poke to see if they were as rock-hard as I assumed. I could feel a bit of drool forming at the corner of my mouth as I took him in. He smiled at me. The effect was infectious and I returned his toothy sincere smile with a goofy lopsided one of my own.

"Evening, Samantha," he said, pushing himself away from the door to come into the office.

There was something about the way he carried himself that made him irresistible. He was my supervisor and he was a werewolf. Both reasons he needed to stay off limits. Our office frowned on interoffice relationships, but there were no rules against fawning.

I looked down at my old, faded pink hoodie and gray turtleneck and wondered how bad my hair looked in this bun that had been frizzed by the humidity from the afternoon's rain. I felt like a geek next to him, oh well. I'd rather have my neck covered up than have it savaged by Angie Winter.

"Hi, Sean," I said as he stood before my desk.

"Was that Angie Winter?" I nodded, shuffling her notaries about. "I thought I heard a motorcycle peel out of the parking lot. I've heard she races it to get extra cash and victims. Must be something irresistible about a brooding vampire on a motorcycle. Mind if I have a seat?"

"Go ahead." I waved a hand to the empty seat across from me. The chairs in my office were low quality folding chairs. Hard, cold, uncomfortable. Our office had the budget for new computers, a coffee machine, paid lunches, but damned if us case workers didn't have the worst chairs in existence. At least I had a swivel chair.

"You look upset, Samantha." He slid into the chair so recently occupied by Angie. His presence warmed the room that Angie had left so frigid. I dared to look up and he watched me carefully.

"She has that effect on people," I muttered, shuffling the notaries around.

"She does have that brooding, undead, 'I'm too good for you mortals,' death stare down, doesn't she?" He picked up Angie's papers. "Only ten? The other fifteen thought better this month?" He inspected them carefully. With each movement I catch a whiff of his cologne.

He wore some sort of Old Spice and he always smelled vaguely of the outdoors. Like fresh cut grass or leaves newly fallen from the trees. I wondered if he smelled like wet dog after a shower. The very thought made him less threatening to me and I chuckled. Sean raised his eyes from the notaries. He cocked his head to one side, raising an eyebrow, searching my face for a clue to my sudden laughter.

"People seem to be drawn to the whole vampire thing." His eyes rolled back into his head, as if he searched for an answer written on his skull. "I don't understand why it's this romantic thing."

I cringed thinking about shacking up with a vampire. "I couldn't really say."

"And here I always thought people like dogs." Sean laughed at his own attempt at a joke. I felt the corners of my own mouth turning upwards. I couldn't help it. His good mood was like a plague that spread. He cracked his knuckles when he put the papers down again. "I didn't come in here to discuss the inner workings of a blood donor's mind. I wanted to see if you would be willing to take on two newly turned vampires. Patrice won't touch them."

Patrice, a good friend and coworker, wouldn't go near newly touched vampires. She worked with everyone else with ease, but if a vampire was turned within the last five years she'd have none of them. She doesn't like the flash or arrogance.

"I suppose I don't have a choice."

Sean smiled that disarming smile again. "Brent and Jose have full client loads and you still have a few openings. Besides, put a newly turned, untested vampire near Jose and he gets that crazy look and sharpens his desk leg into a stake."

"That happened once and if you'll remember it was Angie he tried to stake, not a new turn. Who hasn't wanted to stake that woman?"

Sean lowered his head to grab a tissue off my desk. Pretending to blow his nose I could see his shoulders shake from silent laughter. Obviously taking potshots at blood donors was okay, but making fun of vampire stakings was bad form. He straightened himself again. "They're a brother and sister by the name of Melvin and Jessica Klein."

"They live in an apartment complex in unincorporated Des Plaines." Sean grabbed a pen off my desk and scribbled an address on my notepad. "Chin up." He rose and winked. "Try not to mock them too much."

"I think you're confusing my bedside manner with yours," I said, typing the address into my computer for directions.

He waved good-bye with his middle and index finger and left. I leaned back in my swivel chair. New turns were fine to me. They sometimes were a little arrogant, pretending they weren't mortal days before. But on a whole they didn't give me too much trouble.

Two

Everything started five years ago. The president and congress tried to change the immigration policy. The new stringent laws would force the US back to a more isolationist viewpoint, a pre-World War II U.S. The theory was we could focus on our crumbling economy and other internal issues. Most people didn't see how this would help and there were protests, but the proposed policies angered some powerful werewolves.

There was a large werewolf population who had been in the US for one or two generations and they brought family members and friends from Eastern Europe, Asia, and South America in droves. These packs owned businesses, managed to get workers' visas for their families, and staffed shops and warehouses with their kin. They reunited packs that had once been separated by oceans. Their secrets were relatively safe from human interference thanks to the enterprising nature of many alphas. Money moved a lot of it along and when you have a pack of thirty to forty sometimes even a hundred, bribe money was aplenty.

The new laws would make it harder. The crack down on legal and illegal immigrants alike would be swift. There was no telling if it would even be passed into law, but that didn't matter. It never had the chance to get off the ground.

One full moon the president was hospitalized after being attacked by a large dog. His wounds healed quickly, but he continued to complain of cramps and the occasional fever. The next full moon our president transformed. He was a half-human beast, covered in fur, standing on hind paws like a dog's. His hands functioned as clumsy paws. He went crazy in the light of the full moon. All traits, as we soon learned, of a person bit by a werewolf. Had he been born into the role he'd be more wolf than man during the full moon. He'd also be more mentally stable during the change, having become accustomed to it in the womb. His transformation led Others, vampires, witches, and werewolves, to seemingly come out of nowhere.

The radical werewolves revealed first, seeing as their actions had made their very real presence known. The older werewolf families who came out next, somewhat apologetic for the behavior of the radicals. These werewolves either were descended from the Native American tribes or had been in the US for four or more generations, families like my supervisor's. Witches came next. They claimed Nikola Tesla and Alexander Fleming as their own, but strangely left Marie Curie untouched. Then the vampires under one hundred years old came out. These younger vampires attempted to breach the gap with humanity by raising rats and chickens and dogs to fill themselves. Other, older, vampires didn't deny their lose of humanity, but agreed to get consent from their victims first, just to keep trouble from coming down on their heads. The oldest vampires still kept quiet and they didn't pose any greater threat then they had before. They quietly drained blood and kept in shadows.

And yet Angie had come forward. She was older than any other vampire client I had. No one really knew why she bothered, centuries of hiding meant her skills were honed. She could move undetected and untouched. I wasn't even sure how old she was. She once mentioned leaving Europe for the first time after the Reign of Terror in France. She was already a vampire at that point, but I had no references of her life before that point.

There had been a good deal of resistance to the idea of Others being regulated. After the great coming out the idea was proposed that we needed to track them. Though, as Angie stated repeatedly, they had seen to their own affairs forever. The debate raged for a year before the Bureau of Supernatural Beings, or BSB for short, was formed. The debate still raged on what restraints should and should not be put on Others. How to try werewolves that go mad after being bitten, what sort of sentencing do you give a vampire who will live forever, what magic is okay for witches to use. Others fought their bonds and insisted one of their own sit at the head of the BSB. The compromise was a human had to head it as well. It'd been the only thing anyone really agreed on. Ella Herald, a vampire turned in the eighteen nineties, sits at the head with a retired FBI field agent, Robert Baxter.

We sometimes had protesters outside our office building, but on a whole working for the BSB wasn't bad. I wanted to go into social work and the BSB allowed me to do that and it was a government position so I had decent benefits. If I ever left I had amazing credentials to fall back on. Then, of course, there was the chance to work with Others, a fact my teenage self is very jealous of.

~*~*~

I made a run to the bathroom quickly to change out of my turtleneck and hoodie. Technically I wasn't allowed to wear hoodies at the office, but when it came to Angie and her questionable bloodlust I willing broke whatever rules I had to.

I slipped out of the hoodie and pulled the turtleneck over my head. I buttoned up a black blouse and checked myself out in the mirror. My bun had roughly a million fly-aways standing on end. I liked to look my best when I met new people, but today, only looking somewhat okay would have to do.

My hair's a soft brown. When it's not pulled up it falls down my back in waves. It has the potential to look good, but I don't always have time to put the forth the effort. My eyes are gray, but not a pretty silvery gray, oh no. They are the gray of winter sludge. The kind of gray of a winter morning with cloud cover, no hope of the sun appearing. The kind of gray that depressed people who just wanted to see the sun and warmth again. It's a small price to pay for not having the same hooked nose as my father and sisters. I stand at five foot eight with a runner's body. I was very active before taking a job at the BSB. The desk job has added a few pounds around my midsection, but I retain most of the muscles from years of running and lifting weights.

I yanked my brown hair from its bun. A bump was left in my tresses where the elastic band had held everything in place. It looked like a tangled mess. I sighed, cursing the rain. I pulled a tiny brush from my purse, while shoving the turtleneck in. The brush was smaller than my palm and not up to the task in front of it. Too bad.

A few pained strokes tamed the frizz. It still had the unattractive bump, but I quickly tied it back up. I pulled a few strands out to frame my face. Better. I wish I had time to straighten and style, but that was for the ambitious. Besides next to a vampire no one with a pulse looks good. I packed up my things, shoulder my bag, and waved good-bye to Sean on my way out.

Our BSB office is located on the Kennedy Expressway near the Cumberland exit. Around us are other nondescript office buildings and a host of chain restaurants. As I ran for my car I heard the "L" pass and stop at the Cumberland stop.

I liked to park close to the door. I felt fairly confident none of my clients waited for me in the bushes, but my former office mate had her run-in in the parking lot. I am not one to tempt fate. My black '93 Rav 4 was parked next to Sean's forest green Range Rover, with our coworker, Brent's, silver Camry on the other side. Safety in numbers.

The drive to Des Plaines was a quick one. I took Cumberland to River Road and followed River to Touhy. There wasn't much traffic this time of night. Unincorporated Des Plaines was an ill-lit area, always has been. I know a lot of Others like this area. I had a few other clients who lived in other apartment buildings nearby. The absence of streetlights allowed werewolves and vampires to skulk about unnoticed.

The Kleins' building was a four story brick shithouse. The windows were boarded up for the most part. I saw the occasional glimpse of light through the cardboard and garbage bags, but my guess was most of the inhabitants were out feeding.

Getting out of my car I regretted not bringing a jacket with me. The day was warm enough, but now that the sun had set the night was cool, with a breeze cutting through my blouse. I hadn't noticed it when I darted from the BSB building to the Rav. I took hurried steps from my car to the apartment's front door.

Two women hung around outside having a smoke. The light from the apartment's foyer was just good enough that I could see their washed out faces. I couldn't see their bite marks, but I knew a blood donor when I saw one. I nodded by way of greeting as I inspected the mailboxes.

One of the women, a short, but well built redhead snuffed her cigarette into the brick wall next to the mailboxes. I didn't like her breathing down my neck, getting her cigarette stench in my personal space. For me donors are unnerving. They willing let vampires feed on them. They wanted to be vampires, but weren't deemed good enough to be turned. So they settled for a life of being bitten and drained in the hopes someone would finish the job. It seemed like a sad way to exist to me.

"Do you know which apartment Jessica and Melvin Klein live in?" I asked the mouth breather. I decided to alleviate her curiosity.

"What do you want with them, leech?"

"Official BSB business."

The second woman, a stick of a brunette, put out her own cigarette to join us. "Apartment two seventeen." She was a good deal nicer than her counterpart, giving me a sad smile.

"Thanks."

The redhead was busy giving me the stink eye. BSB case workers are lowly scum to a lot of people. Oh well. Scum I am, scum I shall remain.

"What do you want with them?" the redhead snapped, repeating her question.

"Official business." I made to open the main door to the complex, but the redhead moved and held it shut. If I wanted to I could overpower her. I, after all, had all my blood intact. I didn't want to start any trouble though. "And I really can't discuss BSB business."

"You busy bodies are always getting in our business!"

"I am simply doing my job, ma'am." I put my hand on the door. She didn't move.

"Well, your job interferes with our lives. If my boyfriend doesn't get the notary to his leech of a case worker in time he can't bite me. He has to catch squirrels."

Get your paperwork in on time, I thought, but refrained from comment. "The laws are there to protect you." I opened the door an inch. The redhead wasn't strong enough to keep it shut against my tugging.

"They're there to discriminate us!"

I looked at the brunette who looked pained at her friend's outburst. "Rachel, let her in. She's just here to do a job." The brunette pulled Rachel away from the door. "She always gets cranky after a feeding, sorry."

I dug in my purse and handed Rachel a little Ziploc full of almonds. "Protein will make you feel better." Rachel scowled and the brunette smirked. I waved good-bye putting on the brightest, least offensive smile I could. I stepped into the apartment building. The redhead's muttered curses hit the now closed, glass doors.

The building was quiet as a tomb as I made my way upstairs. Everything was a soft, off-white. The floors, the carpet, even the décor was various shades of eggshell or beige. No one wanted aggressive colors like orange or red when Others were generally ruled by their senses. I climbed the stairs to the second floor. I saw a few splotches of reddish-brown stains in the beige carpet. I chose to ignore them because only an idiot wouldn't know what they were. Apartment two seventeen was at the end of the hall. Someone had put a little plastic flamingo, with drawn on fangs, outside. I knocked and waited.

A woman about my height opened the door. Her hair was a dirty blond. It was flat, without even a hint of wave or curl, falling like straw around her shoulders. Like all vampires she was flawless. Her skin was a smooth ivory, without a sign of blemish. She dressed in skinny jeans and a plain black baby doll t-shirt. She probably took part in sports, volleyball maybe or softball. She had the build of an athlete. She had at least twenty pounds on me.

"You must be Jessica Klein. My name is Samantha Dunmore. I will be you and your brother's case worker." I held out my hand, but she just stared at it.

Turning on her heel she beckoned me inside. The apartment was full of cheap, plywood furniture. The kind that only needed an Allen wrench to assemble. There was a beat-up leather couch in front of a medium sized flat screen TV, a watermarked coffee table, and a folding card table and chairs. The table had newspapers and bills piled high. There was a light on in the bedroom and I could see the corner of a coffin. The light was off in the galley style kitchen. There were no decorations on any of the walls.

"Mel, Samantha is here." Jessica cleared a space on the table for me to set down my folders.

I did so, pulling out some forms for her and her brother to fill out, all very standard.

A lanky, pale man with dyed black hair came in from the bedroom. He was outfitted in a brand new black duster and I could see his legs were covered by skinny jeans. They had the same high cheekbones and upturned nose. Though he looked more sullen. He kept staring at his feet, refusing to make eye contact.

I could see why someone would want to change Jessica. She's sporty and perky. But I couldn't say the same for Melvin. Vampires preferred to turn those who don't try to look the part, those who aren't on the fringes of society. Businessmen, athletes, dean's list students, they are chosen. Vampires want joiners, people who will move upwards. Melvin looked like he was happy to stay low and go unnoticed.

"My name is Samantha Dunmore; I'll be your case worker." I held out my hand. Like his sister Melvin didn't bother to shake it. "I understand you were both turned recently." A quick search of their file had shown me several notaries bearing their names. They'd been donors for a while before making the change.

"Last week, Johanna Gonzalez. She said she knew you." Jessica said, almost daring me to disagree with her.

I knew Johanna. She was another of my clients. I didn't remember seeing her name on the notaries, but that did not make a difference. Though I was surprised Johanna didn't call in to report her intentions of turning two people. The BSB tried to approve every turn before it happened, but the law abiding nature of Others only extended so far. For vampires it halted at reporting turns. Though they were gracious enough to report it after the fact, making sure new vampires followed that rule at least.

"I know Johanna. I work with her as well. Now," I pulled a stack of papers from one of my manila folders.

Jessica and Melvin crowded around me. I now had a better view of them. With the exception of an upturn in her nose that gave her a pig face, Jessica was beautiful. It wasn't all from the turn to vampire. Her full lips and body were gifts of genetics.

Melvin on the other hand was probably no looker. He was beautiful now of course, but he was gangly, with stringy, poorly dyed hair, and a sour expression. I knew he was undead, but it wouldn't hurt to be a tad cheerier. As he crowded around me I noticed his eyebrows were undyed, showing a pale blond, almost white look. I subtly touched my eyebrow, pretending to push a hair from my eye. He scowled. Both looked to be about twenty or twenty-one. And they'd stay that way until the moon fell out of the sky or they decided to spend an afternoon tanning.

"I need you to read and sign these. I also need to know if you're having any trouble finding work."

Regulating Others' activities was the major goal of the BSB, but it was also important to make sure there was no discrimination in the workplace or elsewhere. Equal citizens, equal rights.

"I'm the night manager at a gas station. My boss is a witch," Melvin mumbled. He took the form from me and set to work filling it out. His handwriting was classic serial killer scrawl. I could barely read it.

I stared at Jessica. She didn't say anything for a minute. "I'm taken care of." She also took her form and set to work filling it out. Hers was a bubbly handwriting, her I's were dotted with little circles.

I'm sure you are. I bent down and scribbled some notes on one of my many forms. Jessica reached over me, her perfume invading my nostrils. I wrinkled my nose in displeasure. It was like sandalwood and blood. A nice smell soured for me by the coopery scent of blood.

From their pile of bills and general hodgepodge she pulled out some official BSB documents. I recognized them as consent forms. They weren't even pretending to keep a bridge with humanity. They already wanted human blood. I felt my heart speed up. Most of my clients raised animals for their blood. It was always a little nerve wracking to work with someone who went for human. I wondered how they had been sustaining themselves. They legally couldn't take human blood without a stamp of approval. Not that that ever stopped anyone.

"I've been picking up stray cats, but I hate them." Jessica said, reading my shocked expression. I suppressed a shudder. "I want the blood of the weak."

I stiffened. Jessica stared hard at me. I cut my eyes to Melvin. He looked less miserable now, more feral. "Excuse me?" My voice raised an octave as my mind wrapped around this thinking.

"I used to be weak. I felt stronger when I was chosen," she explained. "Even if you're not a vampire being a donor makes you feel powerful. It brings the promise of unhindered supremacy and glory. I think I could bring that feeling to others."

And I'm terrified. What a fanatical prospect. The very idea of leeching away someone else's life force, of having my own taken away, it left me feeling tired. I suddenly thought of velociraptors. According to wise men like Dr. Grant they hunted in packs. They could open doors. They had problem solving capabilities and they were vindictive, hunting for sport. I felt like I was trapped in a room with velociraptors. They had my scent and they were daring me to run screaming into the night. Jessica held out the consent forms.

It's not like I never saw them, but something in the air here made me wary to touch them.

"Johanna said you'd stamp them," Melvin growled. The facade of a weak brother, awkward, on the fringes, was gone. He morphed to full vampire mode too quickly for my liking.

I gingerly took the consent forms out of Jessica's hands. "They look okay." I looked carefully at the notaries. "Most new vampires avoid humans though." The moment the words came out I regretted saying them. I regretted even thinking them.

"What do you know?" Jessica gripped my shoulder hard. It felt like having a vice clamped onto my bone. I couldn't be sure if she had just forgotten her new vampire strength or if she tried to hurt me for a reason.

I wanted to break free and run off, but Melvin had moved to block the door. I could have jumped out the window. But if I broke anything I'd be a wounded gazelle for the hungry raptors. This was also assuming I could even get away from the death grip on my shoulder.

"The BSB is trying to suppress instinct with rules and regulations!" Her nails went in deeper. It was a miracle she didn't draw blood. "I could break every bone in your body. I could show you what it's like to be a god."

I refused to cry out. I bit the inside of my cheek, letting the coppery taste of blood settle unto my tongue. The pain in my mouth only dulled the pain on my shoulder. Jessica was trying to get me to buckle. I had dealt with chauvinistic Others before. They wanted to prove they were strong and in control. In a practiced vampire this display would be cut off before bloodlust took over. In this newly turned bitch, I couldn't be sure she wouldn't savage me when she caught the scent of my bleeding cheek.

"You mundane little girl." Little girl? I was at least three years older than she was. "What use do we have for your stupid papers?"

"Jessica..." Melvin's voice wavered. Jessica made no move to release me. "Jess..."

I looked over to him. His face blanched, eyes transfixed on the spot where Jessica held fast. Suddenly the pressure eased.

Jessica watched me. Her face was an unreadable mask.

Melvin cleared his throat. "She didn't mean to hurt you. We are just chafing at the collar the BSB tries to put on us. You're no more responsible for those rules than I am for making the sun rise." His words were sincere, though he looked pained to even be saying them.

"I'm sorry. You're only the messenger. Let me get an icepack for your shoulder," Jessica said quietly. Her words were edged with a tinge of regret, but also mockery. She may be sincere with her apology, but she still saw me as a symbol of oppression.

I wanted to yell at her. To remind her a week ago she was as human as me. How dare these new turns think their lot in life is hard. Until a few years ago this Other lifestyle wasn't even open to them. Instead I grabbed the notaries and flipped through them. Whatever, I wanted out of the building right now. The notaries looked good enough. I'd take any sort of punishment I had to if I were wrong. I stamped the papers. I grabbed the forms I'd made them fill out as well.

"Call our office tomorrow to set up your appointment next week." I grabbed more consent forms and shoved them into Jessica's hands. "Have a great night."

They watched me carefully as I fled. I'd request someone else take them as soon as possible. I breathed easier when I was out into the parking lot. I was glad their window didn't face my way. I didn't want to look up and see them staring down at me.

~*~*~

I crept back into the office. I wasn't interested in seeing anyone. I caught a glimpse of myself in my reflection on the door and I looked frazzled. My face was white and when I stopped moving my hands shook slightly. My coworkers would know I was upset and would ask questions if they saw me. I didn't want to answer anything.

Though there was one thing I had to do. I refused to be locked into the role of case worker for the creepy twins.

Sean was in his office poring over something. He had his hands buried into his hair, looking like he was ready to rip it out. I knocked on the open door to make sure I wasn't disrupting him too much by entering.

"You know what sucks?" he said by way of greeting, not looking up. "Pack boundaries. Werewolves in packs are always furious at other pack werewolves for crossing boundary lines without permission. And everyone is mad at loners for being able to move freely." He held up some of the papers before him, finally making eye contact. He shook his paperwork at me like I could do anything about it. "There's like, eighty complaints here. Before the BSB we just used to beat the crap out of the offender. Now, as their own personal form of punishment for the rules the BSB lay down, werewolves are filing complaints about everything!"

He paused his tirade long enough to take a breath. He dropped the papers back onto his desk, folding his hands before him. "Come in, sit down, the fit has passed."

I sauntered in and sunk into the chair across from him. The chair, unlike my folding chairs, was padded in the seat and back, with high arm rests. My jeans scraped against the faux leather, making an uncomfortable squeaky noise. I fidgeted trying to get situated.

I looked down to get an idea of what he worked on. The top complaint accused one B. Hernandez of the Niles Pack of walking into a grocery store located in the vicinity of the Lake County Pack. I had a headache just looking at it.

"You look like..." I figured he wanted to say "shit" but he settled for "Really tired." He smiled softly.

"I'd like to be taken off the Klein siblings."

He raised an eyebrow. Any trace of good humor vanished from his face. "That doesn't sound like you."

"We just didn't click. We had some major personality differences." I could see it all over Sean's face. He wasn't buying it.

I liked people. And people liked me. I had never had an issue with any of my coworkers or clients. Angie was the only one and she was just ornery and it wasn't because of me. Sean knew this. My other office mates knew this.

"Personality differences," he repeated, trying to bring sense to the words. They were bouncing around in his mind, looking for a foothold. "Well, I guess you could take the Patel couple from Brent, if he is willing to pass off his clients like that. He's only had one meeting with them, so it's not like he's attached. We'll discuss it in our daily meeting tomorrow." He stopped talking.

He waited for me to elaborate. I had no intention of doing so. I gave him a half smile, trying to erase the worry from my face.

"Tomorrow then," he said again.

I thanked him as I left. Brent would trade with me. Brent was a football player, all shoulders and no neck. He'd been in the army for five years. He took no crap from anyone. He could withstand Jessica and Melvin.

I walked back to my office feeling slightly better. This would all be sorted out tomorrow. I opened the door to my office and nearly jumped out of my skin.

Jessica sat on my desk, rifling through some files. I had been warned to keep my drawers locked, but I figured while I was in the building they were safe. It was physically impossible for me to be more than fifty feet away at any given time.

"Excuse you!" My unease from Jessica's earlier grip momentarily lost. I was offended. She had the gall to look through the personal files of my clients. I crossed the room in two steps and pulled the files from her. The corner she held ripped in the process. I looked down. It was for my client Johnny Tran.

"You can't be looking through these!" I shook the ripped papers in her face.

She knocked them clear of my hand. Papers flew out all over the floor. The red ink of my "Cleared" stamp, the raised seal of the notaries, pictures of the goat Johnny kept, all floated to the floor for Jessica to look at. I bent down to pick them up before she could see anymore.

"Who even let you in? You can't come in without being invited!"

"The sign said I was welcome."

It was a stupid question for me to ask. All BSB buildings had a sign stating "Vampires Welcome" or "Vampires may enter". Apparently it was enough of an invitation into the offices to satisfy the old rules. It invited them in without someone having to stand outside welcoming vampire after vampire in.

"Who said you could come into my office?" I knew the answer as I asked it. Our night receptionist, May. She's a few years older than me. She lets everyone in, giving them exact directions to whatever office they wanted. Every one of us had had an encounter with someone we didn't want to because May liked to help people. We all hoped she had learned something from last month's mauling, but no. Not our sweet, trusting May.

"What do you want?" I shoved Johnny's papers into a new folder. Got to my feet and put them in my filing cabinet. I locked it quickly.

I walked around my desk and slid into my chair. Jessica swiveled around, sitting cross legged in front of me.

"I'm looking for a friend. Or I should say a friend of a friend. Johanna says you know her." I made a face that I hoped showed my disdain. Jessica noted it and continued. "Her name's Agacia."

I blinked. "I don't know anyone by that name." I was going to have some strong words with Johanna very soon about this nosey, aggressive vampire she turned. "So, you better leave."

I wanted nothing more than to get my crucifix from my desk, brandish it in Jessica's face and cry "begone foul demon!" I didn't have the guts to wield a cross or a stake or a gun loaded with a silver bullet. I was a marshmallow. Any Other could smell it.

"She sometimes goes by the name Agatha, sometimes even Angie." She struck a chord with me and she knew it. I could feel my face giving away the knowledge that I did know an Angie.

Some vampires move in groups. Like werewolves have packs or witches have covens. Then there are those who limit contact. Angie was one who limited contact. I could see Johanna taking young, willing protégés, but I didn't see Angie doing that. I couldn't even see Angie entertaining the idea of offering a hand in friendship to anyone.

"I'm trying to locate my friend. Can you help me?" The cold that I had been greeted with earlier was replaced by a sweet tone. If I was a man I imagined Jessica would bat her eyes and stick out her breasts to entice me. She just softened her tone with me, trying to lull me into her confidence.

"I'm afraid I can't give any personal information without written consent." Maybe I am just a puny human, but by golly I still followed the rules.

"But, it's really important," Jessica attempted a pout. The effect was somewhat lost because all I could focus on were her teeth. She hadn't bothered to retract them. Her canines stuck out, into her now protruding bottom lip, giving her the look of a severe, deadly overbite.

"I'll need to discuss the matter with Angie." I grabbed a piece of stationary from my desk drawer and pushed it her way. "If she agrees I can give her your phone number if you write and sign that you agree to allow her that access." Then you can have a vampiric sleepover and braid each others' hair.

Jessica eyed the paper with a look of disdain that would have caused the paper to shrivel and die if it had been alive. "I'll just wait until you talk to her." Jessica leaned forward.

I didn't like the closeness. I was especially uncomfortable because I knew she was a new turn that wanted human blood already. She couldn't possibly have enough control of her senses to pull back if her bloodlust tried to take over.

Her face was flawless; her eyes startlingly beautiful even in the fluorescent lighting of my office. I focused on her chin. Control came from the eyes and I wouldn't be caught in her trap.

"It's very important I contact my friend. I met her last year. She told me to look her up if I was ever turned."

"There are rules to follow." I concentrated hard on that chin. I wondered if it had been scarred when she was human. If it was subject to pimples or zits. If little blond hairs ever sprang up. I willed myself not to look up. It's what Jessica wanted me to do. I could feel my resolve weakening. Vampires secrete pheromones kind of like a pheromone trap attracts flies. It helps create willing victims.

Jessica moved, her finger touching me under the chin. She lifted my head so I was forced to make eye contact. Her eyes were an astonishing blue-green, like the waters in the Caribbean. Calm now, but with the promise of a storm over the horizon.

"About that file..." she said, her voice dripping honey into my ears. I could feel my fingers itching to grab Angie's file and pour her secrets on the desk. Those beautiful ethereal eyes held mine in focus. If I blinked they would be gone and their magnificence lost to me.

"Samantha?" I blinked. The spell broke. I jerked my chin away from Jessica's finger that still held my chin up. I narrowed my eyes at her for a split second before turning my attention to the doorway.

"Hey Patrice!" I waved my coworker into the office.

She leaned in my doorway. Her black skirt and pink blouse were wrinkled from sitting too long at her desk. Her black hair was pulled into a pony tail. She looked mad.

Jessica moved off the desk. "Hello," she said. She hid the hate in her voice, but I could read it in her body language. Her hip was cocked and she had a hand on it. Even with her back turned to me I knew she wore a scowl.

"I was just coming to grab Samantha for a conference call. And you are...?" Patrice's brown eyes took in Jessica. Her loathing for the newly turned vampire came out with each blink.

"Jessica. Samantha's newest client."

"Uh huh. Well Jessica, is your business concluded? It is an important call."

Jessica looked over her shoulder at me, baring all her teeth in a mirthless smile. I felt all the colors in my face evacuate, leaving me cold all over. She nodded a good-bye and floated out of the room. Her beauty and grace shone through her threatening nature.

"What the hell was that?"

I liked Patrice a lot. I met her when she trained me, showed me the ropes. Before Others revealed she'd been a social worker with a family full of vampires. She kept their secret and was happy to do so. She was perfect for a position in the BSB. She was not much younger than my mother. Time had been kind to her. A few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. A few grays lacing their way through her roots. She had a little sag and a paunch from having a few kids.

"Just having a few problems."

"I heard you talking to Sean about 'personality differences'."

"You mean you were eavesdropping on Sean?" I knew it was the truth. Everyone's business was her business. I benefited normally. She always shared gossip with me. This was the first time I was the subject of her gossip. Bummer.

"Call it what you want. So, you okay?"

If she knew I was having problems she knew Sean was doing most of the solving. I flushed a little. I didn't want to appear like a simpering little girl. It was bad enough I already felt like one.

"Yeah. That was nothing."

"Didn't exactly look like nothing." Patrice plopped down on my desk, giving me the once over. "She looked like she wanted a snack and Samantha Dunmore was on the menu."

"Personality differences, you know."

"If you say so, but let me give you a bit of advice. Poke her in the eyes next time."

"Pardon?"

"Having speed and strength is useless if you can't see." She smiled. Her grin was mischievous. I smiled back in spite of myself. "My cousin attacked me once after turning. My two thumbs stopped him real quick."

I met her cousin once at a company party. He was respectful and well-mannered. I guess if Patrice had gouged my eyes, I'd behave too.

"It can't be all that bad." I didn't respond. "Newly turned vampires almost always want to live the fantasy of seducing quivering young ladies. It's part of their genetic make-up or something." I didn't quite believe that, but I still remained quiet. "Poke her in the eyes and be done with it."

I wanted to believe Patrice. She'd had to deal with vampires since 1983. Her cousin had been turned, then her best friend. If her cousin attacked her, maybe it was just a new turn thing, an instinct of sorts. I was ready to convince myself I just needed to stand up to Jessica when I remembered her insistence at seeing Angie's file. That couldn't have been an instinct. I allowed a genial smile to escape. I didn't want to have Patrice thinking I was a terrified little girl.

"Thanks, Patrice."

"Cheer up, Samantha. She'll back off soon." She picked up a pen and twirled it in her fingers. "I'll walk you to your car tonight. I'll teach you how to gouge out eyes." She got up, patted my shoulder and left.
Three

I nearly died of a heart attack at eleven the next morning. There was a warm pressure on my chest and hot breath on my face. After kicking out from under the covers a stinky little dog tongue licked my face. My Welsh Corgi, Sasha, sat on me. It was easy to forget the previous night's events with the tan and white splotched dog giving kisses all over my face.

I lived off of Montrose in the Portage Park area. I shared a two-flat with a college friend, Chris. We inhabited the bottom floor and a young Polish couple lived above us.

Chris had been one of my closest friends since college. He taught me to play guitar and I tutored him. We began living together when my boyfriend moved on and I could no longer afford rent and his girlfriend unceremoniously threw him out. It was a good deal and unlike some of my former roommates I never had to worry about Chris leaving a huge mess for me to clean up or skipping his half of the rent.

Pushing Sasha off, I got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. There was enough sunlight that Chris hadn't bothered to turn on the light. He was fiddling around on his laptop, invading some village or another in his online video game.

"Good morning!" he said around a huge piece of banana bread. He had a quarter of the loaf I had baked the day before on his plate. Crumbs were all over the table. "Want to play? I could use some help. Everyone is being an asshat this morning."

Chris was short and stocky like a dwarf, maybe that's why he always played as a tall and graceful elf in online games. He didn't bother with a beard though or much hair at all. Instead of allowing his sparse hair to grow in a horseshoe formation he just shaved it. "I know you want to. You can use my account..."

I shrugged. I learned to love video games because of Chris, but his dedication was admirable. Online games were almost like a job to him, but for me they were ways to waste away the hours with friends when there was nothing else to do.

"Let me get my workout in and we'll pillage and burn stuff."

I padded back to my room, slightly more awake than I had been. I slipped into my gray running shorts and a faded pink t-shirt. I laced up my running shoes. I liked to take at least ten minutes to stretch, but it didn't always happen. I took Sasha with me on my runs and she liked to jump all over me while I loosened up my muscles.

"If I get injured, you'll have to get help," I said to her. If my dog had to perform a Lassie-like feat and bring back help, I'd be doomed.

Sufficiently loosened up I attached Sasha to her leash. Outside was a little chilly, but I counted any day without frost as a victory. I walked up the block for a few minutes before getting into my run. These days I generally manage an eight minute mile. Today I only had the energy for a ten minute mile. My mind was still troubled by Jessica's visit to my office.

Sasha lopped alongside me. Her mouth hung open, stupidly happy with the morning run. As I ran I envisioned myself as a tough, ass-kicking, vampire hunter. Those that preyed on the weak and scared met with the business end of my stake. It was a good thing the sun was out because if I ran into Jessica I'd teach her a lesson.

I became so engrossed in the fantasy I pushed my one mile run to two. I began running faster. I was a brave huntress, reigning down justice on the undead. An image of Jessica's blue-green eyes flashed before me. The feeling of being powerless as she worked her will over me covered me like a second skin. I stopped. Sasha pulled on the leash, trying to continue her run. She looked back at me, brown, puppy eyes begging for more.

"Come on. Time to go home." The fantasy shattered at the memory of those eyes. I wasn't a huntress. I was nothing more than a scared office worker.

I trudged home. I kept hold of the leash, but I didn't rein Sasha in. She ran back and forth in front of me, catching this scent and that. I was tired again when we got home.

Chris had set my laptop up on the kitchen table across from him. At least in the online world I could be a force to be reckoned with.

~*~*~

The time passed. Somehow I managed to get on a clean pair of jeans and a brown tunic top. I even managed to straighten my hair while playing. All the while I laughed and played games with Chris online.

At four I logged out. It was time to get to work. Likewise Chris needed to be getting ready for his own job. He worked as the nighttime security guard at an assisted living facility. From what I gathered he patrolled every other hour and watched movies the rest of the time. I was slightly jealous because I worked the same shift and did real work.

I scurried out of the flat and loaded myself into the Rav. I secretly hoped to hit traffic. I almost thought about taking I-90 to ensure I hit traffic. I wasn't feeling too optimistic about work today. But I didn't want to be late so I hopped on Irving Park Road and took my usual, construction-free route to work.

I worked the five to eleven shift. We termed it the vampire shift. In the summer we do a lot of paperwork until the sun sets. In the winter we have clients waiting for us by the time we walk in the door. Since we were currently in spring we had a few hours of sunlight to catch up on paperwork until we needed to go to see clients.

I rolled into the parking lot at four fifty-five; a little disappointed I wasn't going to be late. I pulled the Rav into a spot next to Sean's Range Rover. I did a quick scan of the area. I was the last to arrive.

Most of the mid-shift people were still around. They worked the hours of one to nine. They worked a healthy balance between Others like witches and werewolves and vampires. There were times when I wished for such a shift, but only because I didn't always like getting home after midnight.

I powered up the stairs to the fourth and top floor. I rushed off for my office. The BSB held the fourth floor. Technically the BSB owned the whole building, but there weren't enough people to justify using all three floors. To make up for the error of buying the whole building the BSB leased out the other three floors. A law firm was on floor one and a clinic, generally used for drug testing, was on floor two. In comparison to the ten story buildings made of glass and steel all around us, the brick building looked more like an apartment complex.

The morning shift of nine to five were packed up and leaving as the vampire shift came in. The mid-shift was busy at work. Natural light mixed with the fluorescent lighting. The cubicles in the center of the floor were mostly empty of interns and file clerks, while half the offices of the case workers were dark. There were stripes of gold on the gray-brown walls where the sun managed to break through the shades. A few people pushed past me, trying to get out the door.

I went into my office, closing the door behind me. I had the shades up and the sun shone directly onto my desk. A beacon awash in gold for all to see. I put my lunch bag down, deciding an apple and some carrots weren't worth putting in the break room's refrigerator. I drew the shades, but didn't bother to turn on the lights. I liked the gentle light of the setting sun.

I locked my purse into my three drawered filing cabinet, flipped on my computer, and checked my planner. I had only two vampires to see tonight. Leslie at eight-thirty and Jarell at ten. Other than that I had a meeting to attend and little else.

The sun continued its descent to the horizon. The shadows grew longer as I checked my emails. By the time it was too dark to work without the lights on, it was seven. Meeting time.

The workers of the vampire shift gathered in the conference room. It was supposed to be big enough for all employees in the building. Half the people could fit in there, standing room only. There was a bigger conference room on the first floor, but we had to ask the lawyers real nicely if we could use it. The conference room, like the rest of the floor, was painted a non-aggressive gray-brown. There was a large table taking up the center of the room. A projector screwed into the ceiling. Eight chairs were around the table, with more stacked up in the corner farthest from the door.

Sean stood at the head of the conference table. He was dressed in ironed, black slacks with a white t-shirt on under his blazer. I pulled up a chair closest to him. I caught a whiff of pomade. He'd attempted to tame his hair with it. At least I think he did. His unruly mane looked as unkempt as usual. I guess he could have been eating the pomade.

Brent and Jose came in together. Brent was about thirty-five. Barrel chested, no nonsense attitude and buzz cut. His eyes were a warm hazel. His nose had been broken several times and heeled crookedly. He was slow to smile, but was a generally nice guy. Jose was shorter than me, black hair, black eyes, and cheery demeanor. We joked about his reaction to vampires. He was skittish around them, but he managed to build rapport with everyone. He worked with witches and werewolves who worked nights like the rest of us. He was the only one on the vampire shift not to deal with a single vampire. Patrice came in just behind them. She slid in next to me.

"We're in for a slow night," Sean began. "Samantha has two appointments tonight and I believe the rest of you are office bound." There were nods of agreement. "We've been asked to sort through some files sent over from the downtown office."

I stifled a groan, choosing to roll my eyes instead. Whenever the office downtown sent things to be sorted it was a tedious affair. Busy work intended to bore us out of our minds and ensure we earned our paychecks.

"You all need to turn in your reports every day. I don't know how many times I have to tell you this." We were required to turn in status reports on our clients. They were brief updates for the central BSB to review, looking for suspicious and potentially dangerous activity in Others. Like work sent over from other offices, they were boring to do.

"I'm not going to get yelled at again because you miscreants can't be bothered to do your work." I'm the youngest person on our shift, then Sean. It was funny to hear him call Patrice, Brent, and Jose miscreants. "Finally, Brent, would you mind taking Samantha's newest clients? Jessica and Melvin Klein? You can hand off two of yours in exchange." All eyes cut to me.

"I guess, but why?" Brent watched me intently.

I felt my face get hot. I knew I was turning a bright red. I scooted down in my chair, trying to disappear. I knew Sean was going to ask this in the meeting, but I hadn't imagined the level of embarrassment it would cause in me. I had been threatened. I shouldn't have been ashamed to want the troublemaker gone, but I was. I had failed somehow.

"There were some differences of opinions and to keep things running smoothly I feel it'd be better if you took them."

Under the table Patrice gave my knee a reassuring squeeze. She hadn't told Sean what she'd seen the night before. And for Sean's part he sold the personality differences story to Brent, though I don't think he believed it himself yet.

"I was thinking you could give her the Patels. You've only just starting working with them."

"Yeah, that'll be fine." Brent gave me a thumbs-up and one of his rare smiles. I smiled back, embarrassed with myself.

"Off you go. And if even one of you forgets your reports tonight I will personally flog you." He waved us out.
Four

It was seven thirty when I plodded back from the meeting. I planned to grab the Klein file and give it to Brent before heading out to meet my client. To my chagrin the little, red light on my phone blinked relentlessly. I frowned, not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment.

I picked up the phone and punched in my voicemail code. "I still need Angie's information" was all it said. My body involuntarily shook a little at the voice. That cool, collected, utterly crazy vampiric voice. I knew I should have run directly to Sean's office and told him the truth, but I didn't like the idea. I could handle this and it all started with my own phone calls.

I quickly dialed out on my phone and waited as the other line rang. Five rings passed before the voicemail message kicked in. "Hi Johanna, this is Samantha calling from the Cumberland BSB office. I wanted to talk to you about..." I searched my brain a moment to find the right words. "About a friend of yours. Please call me back." I clicked the phone back onto the receiver.

I set the receiver down and tapped my fingernails on my desk. The staccato beats mimicked my heartbeat that had yet to slow down after hearing Jessica's voicemail. I picked up my office phone again. I dialed and waited for a familiar voice to pick up.

"Yes, Miss Dunmore?"

"Hi. I just wanted to let you know one of your friends has been bothering me, trying to reach you."

There was silence for about thirty seconds. I was sure she had hung up. "Friend?" she finally asked. Her tone indicated to me I was mad for even suggesting she had friends.

"Yeah, her name's Jessica." I couldn't give last names for the same reason I couldn't give Angie's number out. I had never been given permission to do so. First names were okay and Jessica was a fairly common one. "She said she was a friend of a friend and you told her to contact you if she was ever made a vampire."

"I don't know any Jessicas..."

"She also called you by a weird name. Agatha or Agacia, something like that."

"Agacia?" It was strange to hear a vampire become nervous, but I could hear Angie's voice waver at the name. "She said Agacia?" Even through the phone I could hear the wall of confidence she built crumble at the mere mention of the name.

I moved the phone away from my face to stare blankly at it. She sounded odd, almost worried. I returned the phone to my ear. "Yes, that was it."

Another thirty seconds of silence fell. "I don't know any Jessicas." Click.

That was it. I knew something was wrong. I had hit a nerve with Angie. That made me feel weird, uncomfortable. If someone as ferocious as her could be rattled, what hope was there for me? I suddenly needed something to do with my hands. Normally I cooked or baked my stress away, but I didn't have anything to cook with here.

I opened my desk drawer in search of a project. I was supposed to be doing reports, but as I opened my computer to work on them, I found myself staring blankly at the computer screen. My mind was scattered by Jessica and by Angie's response. I needed to distract myself, not just pretend to be working. My desk didn't hold any answers to my terrified boredom.

I grabbed a stack of post-its and some tape. The Little Mermaid figurine my mother bought me could use a castle to live in. It would pass the time until I had to leave. It would also ease my troubled thoughts for a little while, while I decided what to do.

~*~*~

My client, Leslie, lived in nice condo above some of the shops in downtown Park Ridge, off Northwest Highway. She had been about sixty and dying of lung cancer when a vampire grandson turned her. This had been three years ago. Before being turned her body was hunched over from arthritis. She looked closer to eighty than her rightful age and she was wasting away from her cancer treatments. Now she looked younger, healthier. Her skin was washed out from the turn, but her liver spots and yellowed teeth had changed, reflecting a perfect specimen. She kept five cats as her source of food and relished the second chance her grandson gave her.

My visits to her were like visiting Grandma. If Grandma drank blood.

I was buzzed into the building and I took the elevator up. A middle-aged man rode up with me, but he pressed himself into the corner as far from me as possible. I sometimes got this reaction when nosey people looked at my paperwork and caught the BSB seal. They automatically assumed I was an Other and wanted their distance. Leslie occupied her condo for a long time, living in it years before Others even came into the open. I wondered how her neighbors, like this cowering middle-aged man, felt about that.

The elevator stopped at Leslie's floor. As I exited I took a deep breath and sighed. I thought about scaring the guy, but decided against it. He was not worth the effort.

I headed down the hall and knocked on Leslie's door. "Good evening, Samantha!" Leslie was a willowy woman with a big, brown wig on. She'd lost all her hair to chemo by the time she was turned and it never grew back. The upside was now she could have any hairdo and color that struck her fancy.

"Hi, Leslie. How are you tonight?"

She ushered me in and offered me some homemade cookies. I didn't know if it was because she could no longer taste the dough or because she just wasn't a good baker, but her cookies were terrible. They tasted like salty, sawdust. I ate them every time because she baked them especially for my visits.

"I tried a chocolate crunch recipe this time. How do you like them?" She sat me down in a recliner in front of her TV. She waited with eyes wide in excitement, for my response. Her condo was nice. Lots of overstuffed furniture, pictures of grandkids, quilts everywhere. It smelled nice. Much like cookies should smell and yet the taste. Ugh.

I liked Leslie. She went out of her way to make me comfortable in her home even though I was only there to monitor her blood taking activities. So, I always gave the same answer about her cookies. "You have a gift, Leslie, an absolute gift."

Leslie clapped her hands with enthusiasm. I sometimes got the feeling she knew I lied about the cookies, but the lie made her happy. So, we kept up our charade.

"How is everything, Samantha?" Leslie asked as she rounded up her cats while I pulled out some papers from her file.

"I'm good." Despite the whole crazy vampire after my other client, everything was peachy keen.

"Any young men strike your fancy? You know my Larry is looking for Miss Right."

Leslie, you sweet old lady. Too bad Larry is the one who bit you. "Oh. Um, I'm good where I'm at."

"You just let me know if you ever want his number."

"Well, you know the BSB frowns on us dating clients or relatives of clients." A rule I was actually thankful for when Leslie pushed Larry at me.

Leslie nodded. She moved about her condo, grabbing cats off furniture and herding them toward me. "Here are my lovelies." All five of the cats looked at me angrily. One of them hissed and hooked a claw into the toe of my riding boot. Leslie bent down and pulled it away.

I didn't relish the task ahead of me. Leslie held her cats down as I inspected them, one by one. I had to check to make sure Leslie wasn't trying to turn them or that she was taking too much blood. Turning a cat is how we get chupacabras. A lot of people think it's cruel to feed off animals, but after witnessing it firsthand I couldn't agree with the accusations. I had watched Leslie feed. She pre-filled vials of blood, using a syringe to extract it. Then she emptied the vials into tumblers. It was like when I brought Sasha in for blood work at the vet. It annoyed the cats, but there were no lasting effects. And Leslie kept five to keep from overfeeding on one. As an animal lover I couldn't say this was ideal, but I figured this option was better than wildly ripping throats open, animal or human, and guzzling blood down.

My visit with Leslie lasted fifteen minutes. I could lie and say it ran until my meeting with Jarell and I could get some coffee. Or I could go back to the office and tackle busy work, maybe do my reports to avoid being flogged.

As I exited the building I thought I caught a glimpse of an athletic blond eyeing me from the parking lot of a sushi restaurant that shared the building with Leslie's condo. I stopped and looked. People milled around, but none watched me. I could have sworn it was Jessica.

~*~*~

I came back to find Rena, the intern, in my office, dropping off some papers. Rena's perfect oval of a face with big almond shaped eyes was shocked to see me. Her light brown hair was cut to her shoulders and bangs fell into her brown eyes. She dressed in black slacks and a light pink blouse.

"Shouldn't you be packing up to leave?" I dropped my purse onto the desk. I picked up some of the papers Rena left.

"Sean asked me to deliver these to everyone first." She looked guilty, like she was doing something she shouldn't have been.

The memo stated there was going to be an office wide audit. A serious complaint had been filed and all the case workers were subject to interrogation. I'd never heard of such a thing.

"What is this?" I held the paper up for Rena's inspection. Like she hadn't already read it.

She shrugged. "It came from the downtown office, but no one tells me anything, sorry. I can't imagine anyone here having a serious complaint filed, though. I heard Sean on the phone with someone, sounded like it may have to do with last month's incident." It's like I worked in an office full of eavesdroppers.

"Oh, yeah, I guess that'd make sense. I mean, no other BSB workers from other offices got attacked at their office." During office hours, by a client, while terrified coworkers called for help.

I couldn't shake the feeling this was about more than last month's incident. I know what I saw in the parking lot at Leslie's and I knew she was hunting me. To get me away from the safety of the BSB office would take one well placed phone call to the main office. Get an audit going, get a complaint filed, and suddenly I'm on a forced sabbatical and Jessica has an easy target.

~*~*~

I went about the rest of my night in a haze. My trip to see Jarell was uneventful. Luckily there were no people lurking in the shadows outside his home. I ignored the reports I was supposed to do. I bit my nails down to the quick. By the time I packed up everyone was gone for the night. Being a supervisor Sean was still hanging around to finish his work. I waved good-bye as I passed his office. I thought maybe I should ask him about the audit, but decided not to worry myself with it tonight. It was after midnight, I'd already stayed later than I wanted. I was happy to be going home.

I swung my keys around my index finger as I rode the elevator to the first floor. It was a nervous habit, if I wasn't chewing my nails I fiddled with whatever I got in my hands. The elevator dinged on the first floor and the doors slid open.

I went to take a step out. I stopped dead, almost letting the elevator doors crush me. Fidgeting with my keys, my head suddenly becoming very light. Jessica stood in the lobby watching me. She wore strappy sandals, a black skirt, and a tight, green, knit sweater. She looked gorgeous. I felt like a toad in my brown tunic top, jeans, and riding boots. I probably looked like one too.

"You look pretty when no one's around and you think no one's looking." She smiled a wide, toothy grin. "I was thinking about you. How good a person you are, following the rules like you do." She began to move toward me, gracefully gliding across the tile floor. "An all night notary is a few blocks from here..." She had consent forms in her hands.

I backed up into the elevator, hurriedly pushing the button to the third floor. She was fast, forcing the doors open again. "You scared or something?" She spoke softly. One hand held the elevator door open, while she took my wrist with the other.

I felt sweat on my midback. It was a cold sweat, a sweat I only got when faced with something as daunting as rats or heights. I didn't want to be this close to her. I could smell the metallic odor of blood. Blood and sandalwood. It was a disgusting combination. My heart pounded in my ears. I wanted to squeeze past her, to run for my car.

"Can I help you?" I squeaked, avoiding eye contact.

"Yes." She snaked an arm around my waist, ushering me farther away from the safety of the elevator.

She turned me around. Her body was between me and the exit. Ever so gently she tilted my chin upwards. I tried to keep my eyes focused on anything else. Anything, but those powerful orbs. She took a firm hold of my chin, forcing me to stare at her.

"Come on, Samantha." I felt myself melting away, losing my resolve. "It won't hurt. Then there will be no secrets between us."

I blinked. No secrets? She was still after Angie's information. She hunted me because she wanted it that badly.

"This isn't going to happen." My pepper spray and rosary were in my purse. I'd never be able to get to them, but the spell was broken, that gave me a fighting chance. "I don't do that sort of thing."

Her hands were strong. Her nails dug ever so slightly into my chin. If I struggled she could break my jaw. If I screamed she could crush my windpipe. I widened my stance. I'd dig my heels in and fight as long as I could.

"Come on," she attempted a sweet, gentle voice. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. I'd rather she be mad and screaming.

"I said no. I won't let you feed on me and I won't give you someone else's personal information. Go home."

Anger flashed through Jessica's eyes. Her hold on my chin broke. The relief was momentary. With the heel of her palm she struck my chest just above my breasts. I flew backwards into a potted tree. The force of her strike caused all the air in my lungs to flee. I sat on the cold tiles, dirt and loose leaves sprinkled around me. I gasped for air, trying to force it back into my body. I continued to draw in ragged breaths.

The elevator dinged and Sean came out. He was a disheveled wolf man in business casual, but he was a god to me at that moment. He nearly dropped his laptop case. Eyes narrowed, breathing deep, he looked ready to attack.

"Is there a problem, Samantha?" He took the scene in. Me, sitting on the floor, mouth open like a gaping fish. Jessica, standing above me, murder in her eyes. "And you must be Jessica Klein?"

Jessica turned all her attention to Sean. The two squared off. I managed to get to my feet. I stood on shaky ground and eyed the door. I probably couldn't make it before Jessica pounced on me.

"May I help you?" Her voice was ice. My hands shook violently. I pulled tight on my purse strap, giving them something to hold onto.

"Are you harassing Miss Dunmore?" I had never seen Sean angry. It wasn't something I wanted to see pointed at me ever. His chest was puffed up and a vein in his forehead became noticeably bigger every second. "I don't like little punks that hurt my friends. There's the door, take your little poser ass out it."

"You stink of a werewolf," Jessica sneered. "And I don't listen to lowly Weres. I'm making plans with Samantha."

Sean stepped forward. He was at least six foot three and he had the height and bulk to squash Jessica into the floor. "If you touch her again-"

"What? You'll hit a girl? How manly of you."She snorted, pinching her mouth into a tight, cold smile.

"I won't hit a woman, but I'll hit a vampire." He clenched his teeth and his fists.

"The full moon isn't tonight, doggy. We both know who's stronger right now. I'll be taking my pretty friend home."

"Fuck no!" I shouted. Neither moved or acknowledged me.

Without taking his eyes from Jessica, Sean tossed me his keys. I caught them with shaking fingers. "Get in my car and lock the doors. I'm taking you home."

The last thing I heard as I hurried out was Jessica trying to stake a claim on me. I ran to Sean's Range Rover, clicking it open and jumping in. I barely noticed the cold, wet air of early spring. I locked the doors. I tried to get the key into the ignition, but my hands shook too much. The keys dropped near my feet. My hands and face were cold and my nerves were shot.

Vampires asked me before, but after a firm no, they left me alone. None had come after me like that. I looked up to see Jessica burst out of the building. She ran like a fire was behind her. I tried to make myself tiny in the passenger seat. Sean came out after her. She ignored me and ran into the darkness.

"I'm calling the cops you, blood sucking leech!" Sean's voice shook the night air. Sean stood a few moments to make sure she wasn't coming back.

He came up to the car. I unlocked it with some effort. When he was in and the doors locked again I burst into tears.
Five

As soon as the tears started I stifled them. I wiped my eyes and nose with my sleeve in a most unceremonious way. I put my head against the window and watched the lights pass us as Sean drove me home.

"You know," Sean turned to me when we were stopped at a light. "I'm not going to judge you if you cry."

I wasn't afraid of being judged. I was afraid if I started I'd never stop. I felt miserable. My heart pounded in my chest. I had a knot in my stomach. The spot Jessica had hit me ached. I didn't answer Sean. I just kept looking out the window.

"We need to call the police as soon as we get you home."

That brought me back to attention. "No! I don't want the cops involved!"

Sean took his eyes off the road for a moment to gawp at me. He took one hand off the wheel to shake a finger at me. "Did she hit you in the head? We have to call the police and the BSB to file a report."

"I'll file a report, but no police, please."

"Why not?" He looked back at the road, shaking his head in annoyance.

"I just don't want to." I didn't want any more trouble. I just wanted it all to be over. "I'll put in any paperwork you want me to, just don't call the police."

"Are these the personality differences you mentioned?" I nodded. "Brent taking over the Kleins is not going to make this go away, you know."

"I know."

We got to my place. Sean parked on the street behind my neighbor's white Ford Focus. He instructed me to stay in the car. He got out first, circled the car, and opened the passenger door for me. I poured myself out of the Rover, clutching my purse to my chest like I held a life preserver on choppy seas.

"I'm going to check around. Go inside, wait for me." Sean walked me to the door and then abandoned me to walk around the perimeter.

The flat was empty except for a fidgety Sasha. Chris would be home in an hour or so. I dumped my purse on the floor. I stooped down and picked her up. She needed out. I'd ask Sean. I couldn't face the dark and she couldn't wait until Chris came home.

When entering I was technically in the kitchen, but if I took two steps to the left I was in the living room. I flicked on these lights first. I knew Jessica couldn't enter without my invitation, but I still went from room to room turning on the lights, clinging to Sasha. I walked down our hallway and flicked on the light in Chris's bedroom, next the bathroom. I snaked around our impossibly long corridor to my bedroom and the half bath that connected to it. All the lights were blazing as I walked back to the front door.

"I'm coming in, Samantha," Sean called through the door before coming in. He looked sad. His eyebrows knitted together in concern.

I didn't want his pity. Yes, I looked pathetic, standing there clinging to my dog, sniffing back tears and snot.

"Does your dog need to go out?" I nodded. I couldn't bring myself to form a single one word phrase anymore. "Leash?"

I put Sasha down. Her leash hung on the doorknob of the pantry door. I knelt down to hook the leash on. I passed it off to Sean.

"Alright, little dog! Let's get you emptied out." He looked at me and attempted a smile. "Sit tight. I'll be right back."

Sean led Sasha out. I stood alone. I went to our kitchen table. Chris and my laptops were set up from the morning. I grabbed hold of one of the chair backs to steady myself. I was exhausted, but so wound up I didn't think I could sleep.

I straightened up when I heard Sean returning. He came back in with a less wiggly Sasha. He bent down and unhooked her from her leash. She ran off and jumped on the couch. Sean closed the distance between us.

"Let me see your face." He reached out to take hold of my face. "I want to get a good look at the damage she did."

I instantly recoiled. This wasn't Jessica. This was Sean. I'd known him for over a year. This man had never threatened me. He had only ever been a nice guy. I turned my face up to him and gasped at his utter closeness. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't mean-"

"I should have waited for your say-so. Sorry. May I get a better look at your face?"

I nodded. This time when he reached for my face I didn't pull away. His fingers were warm under my chin. He turned my face gently toward the light. His big, brown eyes took me in with a critical eye. He pursed his lips in concentration and I wanted to throw my arms around him and thank him for being my champion tonight. I felt stupid for even thinking it, like he'd read my ridiculous thoughts and make fun of me. I flushed, feeling my face get hot with embarrassment.

"Well, they're minor scratches. They'll probably heal by morning." His hand stayed where it was. I liked the warmth of it.

We locked eyes. I could see myself in those eyes. They reminded me of my dog's, big, brown, warm, and innocent. He didn't say anything. He just stared, searching for something in my eyes. I felt my breath catch in my chest. I thought of the power Jessica's eyes had over me. I shuddered.

His hand dropped away. He gave me a firm poke right where Jessica had hit my chest.

"Ow!" I backed out of his reach. I covered my chest with my arms again.

"Just making sure there wasn't any serious damage. If something was broken you'd be saying more than 'ow.' You'd be screaming and thrashing in pain."

"You could have just asked!" I rubbed the spot on my chest, wincing slightly.

"I've seen a vampire punch people before; the pheromones they secrete into the air sometimes make it harder to realize the full damage until later. It's like your body is in shock, but you know, not exactly. It's how sleeping virgins could be bit and not wake up from the pain. A vampire once broke my wrist in a basketball game and I didn't realize it for a few hours. "

I vaguely remembered hearing these things when I signed on with the BSB. I had a whole manual of Others lore explaining how they managed to stay hidden over the centuries. I still glared at him.

He shuffled his feet awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you going to be okay by yourself? It's not too late to call the police."

Ice cold terror had settled on me ever since I saw Jessica waiting for me. I didn't want to admit just how scared I was. I shook my head. "My roommate is due to be home soon." And no vampires could get through the front door.

"Alright. I'll pick you up early tomorrow. We need to talk to Carl about this."

Carl Garcia was the general manager of our office. He hated people, trouble, and complaints. This news would surely fill him with unprecedented joy.

"Sounds like a plan," I mumbled.

Sean patted my shoulder and left. Sasha ran to the door when he closed it. She wagged her tail, waiting anxiously for her friend to come back in.

I trudged off to my bedroom to change into my pajamas which consisted of a spaghetti strap undershirt and men's boxers.

I checked myself out in the mirror that hung on the back of my door. With the exception of the green Celtic knot tattoo just above my belly button, my skin was unmarred. But now in the center of my chest, above my breasts was a large red mark. It didn't look like it'd do more than bruise. However, each time I took a breath my chest burned. Sean was right, there could have been serious damage done. Whenever I thought of Jessica and her eyes my brain got fuzzy. That jerk had pumped so much into trying to trap me I still felt the effects. I finished changing and went back into the kitchen.

I looked around. I'd never be able to sleep, not until Chris came home at least. I dragged myself into the kitchen. Filled with a new vigor, I started pulling things out of the pantry. Flour, sugar, garlic, anything that could serve to make a meal. I planned to keep my mind and hands occupied.

~*~*~

I woke up with my face stuck to a glossy page of my cookbook. The kitchen smelled of peanut butter cookies and chicken and potato stew. I had called Chris on his way home to pick me up ingredients such as potatoes and chicken. He never questioned my cooking habits, probably because he benefited greatly from them.

I sat down while the stew simmered in the crockpot. That had been around three-thirty in the morning. The clock on the microwave proudly declared it to be eight-fifteen. I normally slept at this time. My body felt like it waded through sludge. My limbs were heavy and my mind drowsy. Everything in my brain muddled together. I needed to move.

"Sasha!" I rasped. My throat had dried out completely, like someone sandpapered it. I got up to get some water. I tried again. "Sasha!"

I heard Sasha's dog tags jingling as she trotted from my room to the kitchen. "Time for our run." I changed quickly and grabbed her leash off the kitchen table.

The day was humid. It was a brisk humidity that made the air thick. These days sucked. On colder days like today the air coated my lungs and limbs, making it hard to breathe as I ran. On hot days it made every movement feel like trying to run through hot pudding. The sky was gray, trapping the moisture between clouds and ground.

I felt cold in just shorts and a tank top, but I powered on. I tried to run the exhaustion from my body. It was daytime. No Jessica around to bother me. Sean and I would talk to Carl. Explain what had happened. Request a background check; request a new BSB office to keep track of her. The BSB protected their own. They paid hospital bills for mauled employees. They paid for counseling. Safety was a top priority. It'd all be settled. The incident would be a bad dream.

I ran, with intervals of walking, for longer than I planned. It was ten fifteen when I came back home. My legs were jelly. Sasha panted at my feet. I gave myself a headache from lack of water before such a long workout. There was a stitch in my side and I was hungry.

I added fresh water to Sasha's bowl and filled her food dish with kibble. I grabbed a cookie and nibbled on it. The moderate hunger I acquired on the run gave way to a ravenous feeling. I tore open the cabinets, grabbing bags of chips, crackers, bread, and cereal. The stew wasn't ready yet, but when it was I'd dive into it without abandon. I ate until I felt sick.

I returned the untouched food to the pantry. My stomach revolted at the overload. The knot from the night before had never settled. I picked up the kitchen garbage can. The contents of my extremely hefty breakfast landed in the bag. My throat burned, my nose stung from the smell of bile. The food flowed out of me in a constant stream. The browns and yellows of my crackers and chips mixed with the rainbow of my Fruit Loops. All of it settled on top of our normal garbage of eggshells and used paper towels.

The purge lasted a full minute. I fell to my knees, hugging the can, panting. Sasha ceased eating her breakfast to lick my bare legs. Tears formed in my eyes. I wiped them away and sniffed back some snot. I scratched Sasha behind the ears, comforted by her presence.

I sat on the floor for a few more minutes. My stomach finally settled enough that I felt okay standing up. I walked to the bathroom, turned on the shower, stripped down, and got in. I let the warm water wash over me. I opened my mouth to rinse it out. I sat down, bringing my knees to my chest.

When I was seven my mom signed me up for a park district softball league. My half-brother, Matthew, played football. My oldest sister, Cassie, took dance. My next oldest sister, Melanie, played violin. My mom thought it would be good for me to join an activity too. I was a chunky kid at seven. I liked dolls and playing pretend with some of the neighborhood kids. I didn't have any interest in sports, but I went because it was demanded of me.

The coach's daughter, Rachel, would beat the crap out of me. She'd tackle me, pin me down, and make me eat dirt when the coach wasn't looking. After a few weeks of the abuse I finally ran to my mom, crying. I refused to go back to softball or any team activity. My mom called the coach and screamed at her. I never had to join a sport again. I never lived down the shame of running from the bully. She continued to harass me verbally all the way through high school. I didn't want to let another bully win.

I intended to do to Jessica what I did to Rachel on graduation day. She was right in front of me in line for our diplomas. When they called her name I stuck my foot out and watched her fall face first on the stage. By that time I had shot up, lost the baby fat, and worked with a punching bag to make sure bitches didn't make me eat dirt anymore. Jessica could push me down, but I'd drive a stake through her heart if she tried to pin me.

The water stopped being warm after I sat in the shower for twenty minutes. I shampooed, conditioned, and shaved quickly. I jumped out before the water got too cold. Too bad for Chris if he needed to get in.

I wrapped a towel around my hair and body and scurried from bathroom to bedroom. I disrobed and caught myself in the mirror. The spot where Jessica had hit me was now a blackish-purple bruise about the size of a fist. I gritted my teeth.

I dressed in a pair of pinstripe pants, a teal undershirt, and a white blouse. I braided my hair down my back. I wanted to look like a competent professional when I faced the general manager. I slipped my feet into black ballet flats and went back to the living room. I had hours to kill before Sean came to get me. I powered up my laptop.

~*~*~

Chris let Sean in when he came knocking on the door. "Hey, you must be Samantha's boss."

I peeled myself off the couch and closed my laptop. Sean was dressed in a suit. He had the same idea as me of looking as professional as possible.

"You're the roommate then?" Sean asked. He looked over at Chris's laptop. "Solid choice."

I grabbed my lunch out of the refrigerator. The guys talked about video games and the best ways to disembowel goblins. This was a side of Sean I had never seen. I almost didn't want to break him and Chris up.

I didn't have to. When I came to stand beside the table Sean looked up at me and smiled. I almost melted from the warmth in his eyes and smile. I suddenly felt weird standing in my kitchen, having such a handsome man smile so at me, with my roommate playing video games.

"Ready?" he said.

"Yeah. Let's go get this day over."

I bid Chris and Sasha good-bye and followed Sean to his car. I buckled myself in as Sean climbed into the driver's seat.

"You look tired," he observed. "Are you sure you want to go into work today? We can write the report up and you can shuffle home before the sun sets."

I thought about Rachel and that disgusting dirt taste. I brushed my teeth for half an hour to get the taste out. No. Not again. "It won't get any better if I cower and hide. I'll do my reports and I'll just keep on trucking."

"Good attitude."

We drove along, not saying much. He pulled us into the parking lot. The Rav was right where I left it. I blew out a sigh. Sean cut the engine, but didn't get out of the car. He turned to me.

"It'll all be fine." He took my face in his hands. My heart stopped, not from the remembrance of Jessica's touch, but something else. He turned my face to the side. "Those scratches healed pretty fast. Just a little red today." He dropped his hand away. "Let's go."

We got out of the Range Rover. We headed into the building. I dug around my lunch bag for a little baggy full of cookies. "I baked these last night. Obviously it's not much of a thanks, but, well, you know."

He opened the bag and popped one into his mouth. He looked like the cat that ate the canary as he chewed happily. We got into the elevator. He pressed the button and shook his head.

"What if she's back tonight?"

"Leave with Brent and Jose tonight. I have to stay late to finish some work. If I catch you here after they've gone you'll be sleeping in my office with the door locked."

The ding announced our arrival on the third floor. He went left, giving my shoulder a pat as we went to his office. I hung a right. Sitting behind my desk was a gray haired, wrinkled, fat Hispanic man in a tweed jacket and new khakis. My boss Carl Garcia waited for me. Must be that witch's sixth sense I hear so much about. He knew I planned to go to him, so he came to me.

"Carl?" I didn't have to see Carl very often, but when I did it was to be yelled at.

"I got a call from a Jessica and Melvin Klein. I couldn't find them in the database though. They're just two names with no information." He was tapping his foot under the desk. "Did you forget to enter their information by chance?"

"I've been a bit busy." I opened my filing cabinet and dropped my purse in.

"I see. Anyway, the sister, Jessica or whatever, she filed a complaint against you. She said you were unprofessional and rude."

"What?"

"I had a message waiting for me from the downtown office. She apparently called the regional manager and was livid that you were so prejudice. The BSB does not discriminate against anyone! Because of your behavior we're facing an audit. I don't know what this woman said, but it must have gone beyond being rude."

My brain froze. Me? Rude? Dear God. The woman wanted to rip my throat out and I was the problem here? I was the reason for the audit. I get hit in the chest and I'm the problem. She holds my face so hard she leaves scratches and I'm the problem. Bullshit. "Carl, that girl-"

"Not another word, Dunmore. You're young and inexperienced in this field and it's showing now more than ever." He must know I spent at least an hour a day swiveling in my chair, doing little else.

"Carl, please listen. That woman came after me last night." I thought about flashing him the bruise, but I didn't need sexual harassment on my list of offenses. I used my words instead. "She's been harassing me to get to another client's file. She hit me and would have done worse if Sean didn't step in."

Carl scrunched up his face. "Really?" I'm sure he wanted to get me out of his hair. It was nothing personal. With such stellar interpersonal skills I could see why he was a manager.

"Really. Sean and I were going to talk to you about it. I wanted to file my own complaint."

"That's a pretty serious accusation." Carl softened a little. He had daughters. He had to understand. "Let me talk to Sean. Then I'll call the general manager back. I can't stop this audit you realize. We're all under scrutiny since the mauling. We don't need another attack on a BSB worker and we don't need any Others thinking we're discriminating against them. Did you call the police?" I shook my head. "Probably not a bad choice, you know how Others feel about the police. But you should at least have called the BSB help line and had some field agents come take your statement." He rose and left.

I let my mouth drop open. As soon as my computer was up and running I'd have to email Sean. He'd fix this. He'd back me up. Carl tolerated Sean. His word meant more than mine.

I sat down, heaving a frustrated sigh. The red light on my phone blinked. While my computer started up I picked up the phone to hear my messages. At first there wasn't anything, and then Jessica's voice came through. I shouldn't have been surprised.

"That doggy won't protect you forever. He isn't always going to be able to walk around your house to check for bogey men." She'd seen my house. My heart stopped. "I told you I wanted the blood of the weak. That means you."

~*~*~

I had to give it to Carl. He worked fast. Within an hour of our chat two BSB agents were in my office. A trim woman in her thirties, wearing a woman's suit, held a clipboard. Her partner, a black man around her age in a suit to match hers, paced around. He looked at all my things. She sat at the ready. He closed the door to my office. It blocked out all my inquisitive coworkers.

"I am Agent Balicki," she said. "And my partner Agent Hill. Carl Garcia called us in regards to an incident that transpired."

In normal circumstances people would report to the police. However, where Others are concerned things get dicey. People either thought Others were discriminated against by the police or thought the police were too easy on them. It was just easier to go straight to the BSB. Most field agents were Others, though plenty were recruited from the ranks of the military. I had no way of knowing if these two were military or Others. It didn't matter if they'd help me.

"We have a number of questions to ask you," Hill said. He sat down next to Balicki.

"First off, you are aware Miss Klein filed a complaint against you." Balicki locked eyes with me. She searched me for any signs of dishonesty. I had heard of witches who were aura readers. They could tell you lied just by reading your aura. I didn't know what my aura looked like, but if Balicki tried to read it she wouldn't find any lies.

"Uh, Carl mentioned it, but I don't really know what she said. Just that I was unprofessional and rude."

"She claimed you threatened her with a rosary and holy water. And that you made some derogatory slurs against vampires. She and her brother did not feel safe in your presence."

My mouth dropped open. That went beyond rude and unprofessional. That was downright crazy talk. "I would never! I...I...what the crap?"

Balicki gave me a dirty look. My outburst displeased her. I wanted to dump my coffee into her lap. Let her have an outburst so I could give dirty, disapproving looks.

Hill held up his hand. "Please calm down, Miss Dunmore. We looked at your file on the way over here. You have no priors..."

"Carl said the audit coming our way was because of me!" I blurted out.

Another stare from Balicki. It must be easy to be cool and collected when no one tried to break you for information. "We take complaints of that nature very seriously and if you are threatening a client we'll take appropriate measures." I hate bureaucracy. I needed them to arrest Jessica and throw her in a vampire-proof cell, not investigate lies leveled at me.

"And what about her attack on me?"

"We'll be visiting Sean Benson next. And from there Miss Klein and her brother," Hill explained. "And don't worry. Any violence from Miss Klein toward you is not being taken lightly."

I unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt. I pointed to the bruise on my chest. "Look what she did!"

This time Balicki's mouth dropped open. She closed it just as quickly. That's right. I had a big, ugly bruise on my chest. Hill leaned forward. "That is one fine mark you got there."

My fingers shook with rage as I buttoned my shirt back up. "So?"

"The audit will continue as planned. We can't exactly stop it," Hill said. The expression plastered on his face was one of sympathy. "Like my partner said, some serious accusations have been filed. We still need to investigate. Your old coworker," he motioned to the empty desk. "She was mauled by a werewolf, correct? One mauling, now a vampire attack? I'd say this place is long overdue. None of the other offices in the area have had these sorts of problems."

Gah! Poking eyes out and pulling hair wasn't an option. It'd be bad form to assault these two fine field agents. Forms, audits, interrogations. What a bunch of bastards.

"We'll be in touch, Miss Dunmore." Balicki pulled herself out of my folding chair.

I saw the two of them out. Once they left I closed the door again. I kicked over the chairs they had occupied.

~*~*~

The caller-id showed that the front desk was trying to reach me. It was easier to breathe knowing the call came from someone I worked with. I was still shaken by Jessica's message.

"Hi May," I said, picking up the phone.

The woman on the other side chomped away at her gum. "Angie Winter is here, but she isn't on my calendar. Didn't she come in last night?"

"Uh, yeah. Let her in." We only had walk-in appointments until eight pm, all work after that was meetings about Others, filing, updating the federal BSB database, driving to clients, and various other nonsense. I'd welcome a surprise meeting if it broke up the monotony, even if it was Angie Winter.

Angie sauntered in. She stood at five feet and probably one hundred pounds. If she was a human I'd have towered over her, but she eclipsed me entirely. Her hair was tied her into a bun, every hair secured in place. Not even a wisp loose. She was dressed in biker gear, as usual. Heavy leather jacket over a green shirt and tattered jeans. Despite the heavy boots she wore she moved as slightly as a cat. Helmet in one hand, a fancy wood polished box in her other.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

Without my approval she sat and put the box on my desk. "You're having problems."

"Pardon?"

"Your call about Jessica worried me. I did some snooping. I heard things." She pushed the box toward me. "I brought you a gift."

I inspected the box. It was a beautiful red wood with silver hinges and a Celtic knot as the lock. She had left the key in. The top of the key was the heart and crown of a Claddagh ring. I unlocked the box. Inside was a stake made of the same polished red wood. Silver laced through the wood in interlocking patterns.

"That's real silver, not cheap imitation, in case a werewolf should get the same ideas as that bitch. Did she hurt you much?"

"How do you know about that?" I sat stunned. For one thing, despite working with Others the BSB never gave any sort of weapon to their employees. If they had my office mate might still occupy the desk across from me.

"I thought you might like the design and the box. I'd carry that with you in your purse," she said, deliberately ignoring my question.

"Angie, how do you know anything about Jessica?" I repeated. I was in no mood for games.

Her porcelain face kept the same expression I had always seen. "I said I hear things. Protect yourself."

"But-"

"You're scared of me. I'm giving you a tool that could kill me. You should take that as a sign of good faith."

That was one way to take it. She knew something about Jessica and it was something that was a danger to me. "I need to know how you know her." Angie got up. "Don't leave." Her back was to me, she completely ignored me. "Angie, wait!" It was too late. My office suddenly became warmer in her absence. I'd have taken the chill if she just answered my questions. I didn't like the uncertainty that I faced.

I looked at the stake. It was a beautiful piece of work. Someone had put a lot of time and effort into making it. I removed it from the box, running my fingers of the inlaid silver. It was cool at first, but under my touch it warmed quickly. I wrapped my hand around the top of the stake and made a motion like I was driving it into a vampire. I dropped it back into its box. I couldn't see myself actually using this.

It won't come to that, I told myself silently. Balicki and Hill would see that I never had to use this as a weapon. It was just a pretty bauble, a gift among from friends. I could sit here and tell myself this stake meant nothing, but I knew deep down I lied to myself.

I grabbed the box and scurried down the hall to Sean's office. He was hunched over his desk, making marks on some documents. The hair that had been so lovingly styled earlier was back to its unmanageable mane again. His clean shaven face of the afternoon replaced with stubble. He pulled at his hair, grumbling. I knocked on his door. He grunted a bit. This was the sound that he was in no mood to be bothered. However, he was going to be bothered.

"Sean?"

He pushed the papers away. His full attention was on me now. "Something wrong?" I crossed the room to sit. He had nice leather chairs for guests. They were sleek, comfortable, with high armrests. I wanted to live in these chairs. I wanted to know how he got these and I got folding chairs, though.

"I got a really creepy voicemail from Jessica, first off. She knows you checked the area around my house last night."

"I reported her to the federal office. They've tagged her." All his attention focused in on me.

"Uh, Angie stopped by."

"I heard." He raised his eyebrow when I wasn't forthcoming with a response. "And?"

"I'll show you really quick and I promise to put it away. Uh...don't touch it." I put the box on the table and opened it for him. A few beads of sweat broke out on his brow. If he touched it, at best he'd get hives. At worst I'd have to call the hospital to control his cardiac arrest. I knew he wouldn't touch the silver, but his face blanched.

"That there is a stake. A silvery stake. And now I've seen it...so how about you go ahead and get it off my desk?" He couldn't tear his eyes away from it.

"Sorry." I closed the lid and tucked the box between my feet. His eyes immediately shot back to me.

"I'm really scared. She knew Jessica attacked me, but wouldn't tell me anything. If Angie didn't think there was trouble headed my way why would she give me this? How do I stop this from coming down on me?" I didn't want to cry again, but I felt like I probably would. I shut my mouth and waited.

"There's something else. Agents Balicki and Hill called. Jessica wasn't home. She'd banged up that brother of hers pretty bad." My mouth dried up at his words. "She must have heard they were coming."

"What do I do? She's going to hunt me down. What if she comes back tonight?"

My entire body shook. Sean reached across his desk to hold my hands. A rush ran through my body. For a moment I wished he wasn't my boss. Someone walked by his office. I gently freed my hands to hug myself. No need for any rumors to start about us. He pursed his lips together in weird frustration, looking both concerned and annoyed.

"You're safe here. Brent is going to walk you to your car. I told him to shoot Jessica with a flare gun if she bothered you." He smirked when he said it. I found it impossible to return the smile. He might think this attempt at levity was funny, but I was too terrified to see the humor. "Is that roommate of yours willing to get you from your car? I can do a drive-by after I leave work. Make sure no one is lurking around."

"I'm thinking of driving to Naperville. My dad will shoot anyone who touches his baby girl. I should be safer there."

"Text or call me when you're safe inside your parents' house then."

Six

My parents lived comfortably, without much noise, now that all their children had flown the coop. Both my sisters were married with children and my half-brother had just tied the knot. Children were still pending in that picture. On the outside it was a white paneled house with a two car garage. Inside it was littered with the toys of grandchildren, countless family photos, and a veritable hurricane of family togetherness.

Whenever I came home my mom made my favorite meal and asked about work. In spite of the horrible time I was currently having I did look forward to a meal made by my mom. I tried to focus on that as I left work and drove to the suburbs.

I drove around the block once to search the shadows. It unnerved me that Jessica had fled her apartment. I didn't want to let on just how terrified I was when Sean told me, but I was scared out of my wits. Jessica was out there somewhere waiting for me.

Uneasy, I pulled into my parents' driveway. I hadn't seen any lurking figures, but that did not mean they weren't out there. I cut the lights on the Rav. Nothing moved. The front door was twenty feet away. I could get to it and unlock it in under a minute. A good time, but vampires were faster. Steeling myself for the worst I took a deep breath. Flinging myself out of the car I ran for the door.

I felt a cold sweat break out on my back. I fidgeted with my keys, trying to find the right one. Groping around in the dark I found the lock and key and forced them together. Something stirred in the bushes at the neighbors'. My fingers stopped working. I could do this; just turn the key a little more.

I steadied myself with both hands on the doorknob. Turn and push. The door gave way and opened before me. Whatever moved hissed and spat. I jumped through the threshold and closed the door. I locked it. The whole house was dark and quiet.

Feeling safer now I texted Sean and Chris. I begged Chris to take care of Sasha until I came home. I climbed the stairs to my old room. I had no extra clothes, so I stripped down to my underwear and climbed under the covers. I'd have to leave early so I could get home and change. My body gave way to exhaustion once my head hit the pillow.

~*~*~

My parents were up and moving around at six. I turned over at the smell of the coffee. I buried my head under the pillows when they turned on the morning news. I had to get up when I smelled bacon. I got back into my work clothes. The white shirt that had been so crisp yesterday was now wrinkled. The pants fared no better.

My mom was putting out a plate for me with waffles, bacon, and eggs when I padded into the kitchen.

"Mornin' honey." She hugged me. Her head came up to my shoulder. She was wearing a hot pink bathrobe. I liked the fuzzy feeling it had.

My dad was fiddling with his ereader. He no longer ordered the Chicago Tribune; he just read it on his new gadget these days.

"Hi Dad," I gave his shoulder a little punch as I sat down. "Thanks for breakfast, Mama."

"What brings you so far out on a work day?" My dad put down his ereader. "Trouble with the Others?"

My mom put a pan in the kitchen sink before sitting down to enjoy her breakfast. "They're such an unpredictable bunch. Just the other day a witch came into the post office and threatened to turn me into a newt." She winked at me.

My mom worked part-time at the post office. On any given day humans, as well as Others, were threatening all manner of things to her and her coworkers.

"Karen," my dad scolded, having missed the wink. He took a bite from his bacon. "So, what's brings you out? Free breakfast?"

I'd normally tell them. But this was beyond my usual troubles. I didn't want them to worry. I was doing plenty of that myself. "I just had a bad day, needed some comfort food."

"If you have time you should stop by Melanie's. Little Hannah has the chicken pox. She hasn't had much adult interaction all week. George is away on business." Driving to Lombard to see my sick niece and older sister wasn't in my plans for the day.

"I have to work, Mama. I can't wear these clothes two days in a row. Besides Sasha is probably crying. I need to take care of my baby."

She scowled. It annoyed her that I referred to my dog as a baby. My dad just laughed. The conversation descended into our family's goings on. After finishing breakfast I decided I'd rather sit in traffic for two hours than help my mom grocery shop or explain what was really going on in my life. I had the feeling my parents weren't buying the "bad day" angle I was working.

I bid my parents good-bye. I halted my walk to my car when a scrap of paper caught my eye. Someone had left a note tucked under my wiper blades. The sun was up, Jessica couldn't get me, but I shook my fear away and grabbed the note. "Naughty, naughty" was all it said.
Seven

So she knew where I lived. She knew where my parents lived. She knew my car. She'd reported me to my boss. And now she had disappeared when Agents Balicki and Hill were going to question her. All bad things. As I sat in traffic on the Reagan Expressway I took toll of my situation.

An audit was coming down on my head. My attacker was loose. The creep knew where to find me. My main source of protection was a werewolf. The full moon was tomorrow. So I had to count Sean out. There was a fifty percent chance he would go mad during the full moon and would need to be chained up in a basement. I had a stake, but I didn't trust Angie. My only solace was that she couldn't get into my house without an invitation.

I couldn't avoid being out after dark forever. Winter in Chicago was darkness. There had to be a solution. I'd call Johanna again. Then I'd call Angie and demand answers, which meant I'd beg and whimper. I would also talk to Carl again and explain just how dire this was. I'd flash him my bruise if I had too. Sean would back me up. Okay, a plan. I felt slightly better for it.

Traffic picked up when I got onto the TriState only to be stopped again on the Kennedy. The day was heating up and true to Chicago's inconsistent spring weather I wasn't dressed properly. To save gas I rolled my windows down, getting more exhaust than breeze. My blouse and slacks were now sticking to my body in a most unpleasant way. Unfortunately tomorrow I'd probably be back in my winter coat.

I spent another half an hour before reaching my exit. The street in front of my house was relatively bare. A few retirees and housewives were home, but my own roommate was gone, as were our upstairs neighbors. Upon entering my house I was greeted by an overly excited Sasha. Her entire body wagged at seeing me. I knelt to scratch behind her ears and then took my shoes off. Confident I was home alone, sans the dog, I stripped down quickly. My overheated legs were glad of the release.

I decided a shower was in order. Our bathroom was a pale blue with ugly puke green tiles. The sink was cream colored porcelain with rust spots around the drain. Our toilet was colored to match. We had a standing shower and no bathtub. We also lacked a bathroom fan so in the dead of winter I had to open the little window inside the shower to let the steam out.

I jumped into the shower and turned the water on. Despite how sweaty I was I still turned on the hot water. I stood under the stream of water, letting it rinse my sweaty body off when my cell phone rang. I ignored it. After a minute it started ringing again. I growled and turned the nozzle. Carl's name flashed on the screen. Goody.

"Hello?"

"Samantha, you need to come in early today. I want to continue our discussion from yesterday." He didn't sound angry. That couldn't be right. This was Carl, he liked to be angry.

"Carl, I can explain."

"I'm sure you can. I had a long email from Sean this morning. I understand your accuser," he paused, "Your attacker has disappeared. I want you in at three. The three of us are going to sit down and talk about this." The phone clicked. I climbed back into the shower. I no longer felt the refreshing feeling of the warm water. I washed and rinsed my hair quickly, jumping out the shower in a foul mood.

It was Chris's turn to wash the towels, obviously video games got in the way. I wrapped myself in a beach towel covered in dolphins. Outside the bathroom Sasha bounded around my feet. She was trying to herd me like a sheep. I nudged her with my foot. She backed off a moment and then began her little circle around me once more.

"Sasha baby, knock it off." She paused again, her head cocked to one side, tail wagging.

"But Mommy, I thought you loved me," I forced my voice up an octave. I assumed if Sasha could talk she'd have the squeaky voice of Minnie Mouse. I bent down, scratching her behind the ears. "Who's the cutest puppy ever?" She licked my hand and forearm as I reached around to scratch her back.

I straightened myself. Sasha licked my shins and wagged her tail. I walked into my room, closing the door on the little dog. I heard her go into the kitchen, her paws clacking on the linoleum. I opened my closet to find a weather appropriate outfit. I settled on a black, tiered skirt that fell to the floor. It would hide the fact I hadn't bothered to shave my legs in the shower. I pulled it off the hanger and grabbed a green v-neck long sleeved tee. I figured with the floor length skirt and light weight long sleeved shirt I would be comfortable in the current weather and comfortable if the temperature dropped. And I would look professional enough in my meeting with Carl and Sean without looking stuffy and old.

I held the clothes close to my toweled chest for a second. The bruise sat as an ugly mark on my skin. I tried not to think about what was happening in my life, but in the silence and loneliness of my room I suddenly felt overwhelmed. I sank onto my bed, face buried in my clothes.

~*~*~

I texted my dad, letting him know that one of my clients was causing problems. I spared the details of the note on my car, the phone message, and of course the attack in the lobby. I did tell him that my boss was helping me so he shouldn't worry too much. I reminded him not to tell my mom. His response came as I was pulling into the parking lot of my office building. "Want me to get you from work? I'll get Sasha and bring her home with some extra clothes." I sighed. I was an adult. I ran to my dad in college, but I was twenty-five now. I had to grow up some time. I got out of the Rav. I was filled with resolve to see an end to this whole mess. I strode across the parking lot with purpose, acting braver than I felt.

I pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head, letting them act as a headband. I watched Sean's Range Rover pull up. I waited under the overhang by the door so I didn't have to squint into the sun while I waited for him. I could have pushed my sunglasses back down, but I looked so damn cute with my current hair, sunglass combo I daren't ruin it.

Sean sauntered from his car to me. He wore dark blue jeans and a gray t-shirt. Tonight was the full moon. He only came in to have this brief meeting with Carl. Once it ended he'd be gone and my chief protection would be gone.

He looked as tired as I felt. There were dark circles under his eyes. "How was the stay at your parents' last night?"

I dug around in my purse. I handed him the note that had been on my windshield. "It was there when I left Naperville this morning."

He pursed his lips. "Wonderful."

We walked to the elevator together. I backed myself against the wall and heaved a sigh. Sean pressed the button for the third floor. I wondered if it was possible to just stay in bed, under the covers for the rest of my life. I had a laptop. I could stay connected to the world. Too bad the idea of a bedpan made me sick.

Sean pulled me away from the wall when our floor dinged. "Come on you."

We didn't even stop off at our offices first. We just walked to the corner office that belonged to Carl. I hated his office. He liked to intimidate people with weird masks and wooden weapons from all around the world. I couldn't figure out why he had a morning star behind his chair or what it had to do with being a case worker. Unlike my office or Sean's office it wasn't cluttered with filing cabinets. He had a couch, of the same design as Sean's chairs, and a coffee table with a variety of magazines and occult books. The chairs we sat in, however, were uncomfortable straight backed, hardwood, with no cushions. Carl was like a crime boss in his high-backed swivel chair.

"Well?" Carl leaned forward in his chair.

I told Carl what had happened with the note and everything leading up to it. Sean interjected here and there, mostly reminding Carl that keeping the employees safe was his responsibility. I gave him the note, though he didn't look like he knew what to make of that.

"I understand Miss Klein has run off," Carl said. "She must still be in the area if she had time to leave this note." He handed the note back to me. I refused to take it. "Agent Balicki and Hill are out looking for her. While they do that you are to help Miss Edgar with her work. I don't want you leaving this office."

Oh God. I served my time as an intern. The days of filing and loading the copier were over. I liked seeing my clients. Being stuck in this office would drive me crazy. The silver lining was I liked Rena.

"We'll get this taken care of. You can't be off the grid for too long. Sean, you can go. Samantha, please stay a moment." Sean raised his eyebrow, but left anyway.

Carl waited for the door to click shut. He leaned forward in his chair. Whatever he wanted couldn't be good. His laced his fingers together in front of him on the desk. They rested on the note I brought in. "I must say you pick bad times to find trouble, Miss Dunmore."

"Ah yes, because I asked for all this." My brain caught up to my mouth after I spoke the words. "Er, sorry. I didn't expect that to come out." Yes, because thinking it was so much better. I bit the inside of my cheek to remind myself to think before speaking.

"I do wish you kept this serious trouble at home, but that's only because I don't wish to see any more investigations around here."

I bit down harder on my cheek. A warm, little rush of coppery blood filled my mouth. I didn't want these troubles whether they be personal or professional. Carl kept staring at me, waiting for a response.

"I'm not exactly happy about this either." I thought of the bloody mess I'd seen in the parking lot when my office partner was loaded into that ambulance. Who would ever want that?

"I am doing the best I can to have this whole debacle handled discreetly. I don't need anyone raising questions that the BSB isn't protecting their own. And I don't want another case worker rushed to the ER because of an unhinged Other. You have potential and I'd hate to see you squandered due to inattention on my or anyone's part."

I suppose this was the highest compliment I'd ever receive from him. Potential was better than what he called Brent two weeks ago. Potential was better than a goose with his head stuck up its own ass.

"We'll get this taken care of for you. Don't leave this building without an escort and don't get out of your car without one. Sean's right, you are my responsibility. Now get yourself to work."

~*~*~

"Anderson, Julie." Rena read off from her list. I transferred the information into a spreadsheet. "Witch. Uh, license issued March thirteenth, good for two years. Age eighteen." We couldn't tag Others until they were eighteen. Though, when it came to vampires it was kind of hard to prove their ages. Rena and I were hard at work cataloging all the reports from the month of March.

When I decided to take up social work I never imagined the amount of paperwork. Reports, notaries, spreadsheets. With each name Rena read I wanted to flip my PC over. Poor girl. She'd be stuck doing this alone if Jessica hadn't hit me square in the chest.

"Ansel, Quinn. Vampire. Eight notaries last month. All legal. Aged twenty-four when bit."

I put my face down on the keyboard. Letting whatever random keys I touched fill in the spreadsheet.

"Uh, Samantha?"

"Just let me die here!"

"We're not even out of the A's," Rena chided.

That was fine. This was my entire night. Agent Balicki took it upon herself to cancel my meetings outside the office. Once Rena left I'd make contact with my clients. I needed to get out among the people, er Others, even if it was only by phone.

I straightened up and erased what my forehead had typed. "Next please."

"Maybe it's break time."

"Go on, I need to make a call."

Rena watched me carefully. The entire office knew what I faced. I blamed Patrice's eavesdropping and big mouth. No use pretending otherwise. I could stand them knowing, but I couldn't stand the pity. I'd even heard Patrice in the bathroom telling May this is how it always starts.

I picked up my phone and dialed out quickly.

A sing-song woman's voice answered after the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hi Johanna, it's Samantha from the BSB office." I figured with Jessica missing, maybe Johanna had an idea where to find her.

"Oh! Samantha, I got your message. Sorry, my brother just died, I've been helping his widow." She sounded casual. Vampires didn't have emotions per se. I guess I shouldn't expect her to be all tearful about her brother's death, but I thought some emotion would be nice.

Johanna had been a moderately successful model in the 1950s. She had the proportions of Bettie Page and the blond hair of Marilyn Monroe. She had been turned into a vampire after slipping into obscurity in 1953. In 1983 she turned a Wall Street mogul into a vampire and married him. He worked with Patrice as his case worker. "What's this about an incident?"

"I wanted to talk to you about a new turned named Jessica. She said you turned her last week. She has a brother."

"Goodness, Samantha dear, I've only ever turned one person and that's my Ricardo. I don't know any vampires named Jessica."

"I must have misheard the message she left me," I said lamely. "I didn't mean to bother you for nothing. Uh, sorry about your brother." I offered my condolences, but the part that produced sympathy and empathy in her was gone.

"He was ninety, dear. I'll see you next week for our appointment. I'll have my consent forms all ready to go. Bye!" Click.

Okay, add the fact that Jessica knew my clients to my list of grievances. I'd call Angie next. She knew her, no matter how she tried to deny it. I pulled up Angie's phone number. There was no ringing, just a robotic voice letting me know the number was out of service. Great. I had talked to Angie on this number the other night, now it was disconnected. Fucking great.

I cradled my head in my hands. "Hey, I'm about to go home." I looked up and Sean leaned in my door way.

"I thought you left already."

"I had some messages to sort through first."

Outside the sun slowly drooped in the sky. The full moon would be up soon and he'd be a man-beast, hunting with his pack. They'd protect him and he them. I was left alone.

"I just talked to Johanna."

"And?" His brow creased as he tried to figure out exactly what that meant.

"Well, Jessica said that's who turned her, but Johanna's never heard the name before."

"Who the hell is this SOB?" An excellent question. Who was this Jessica person? Why was she singling me out like this? My phone rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"This is the office of Samantha Dunmore," the number was withheld. I didn't have to ask who it was.

"Why would you sic agents on me? I come to you asking for a favor and that's how I get treated? I've got rights, bitch."

"I just talked to Johanna. Who are you? She didn't turn you."

Sean moved from his post at the door frame. In two easy steps he stood before my desk. He planted his hands, clenched into fists, on it.

"Aw, why are you so suspicious?"

"You need to leave me alone. I saw your little note on my car."

"That was a very lovely house your parents have. You should invite me in next time. I'll buy movie tickets and send your parents out."

I muted the phone and handed the receiver to Sean. He listened for a minute before pressing the mute button again. "If you want to do anything of those things to me I'll grab a rawhide and show you a good time...oh? That's lovely. If you have any further suggestions for my personal improvement you can call." He handed the phone back. I gently hung it up.

Curiosity overrode my fear. "What did she say?"

"Are you familiar with The Lady's Guide to a Vampire Lover?" The book had come out about a year ago. It was supposed to be an erotic guide for women who took vampire lovers. I had never read it. The picture on the cover scared me away.

"I've heard of it."

"If you really want to know what she said, pick up a copy. I'm pretty sure she described chapters five through eight." My eyes widened. I could only imagine. "Yeah. I talked to Carl again. Balicki or Hill or both will walk you to your car tonight. Stay out of trouble." He chucked me under the chin and left.

~*~*~

I poked around at my pretzels and turkey sandwich. I wasn't very hungry. My stomach was all knotted. The sun was down, the moon was up, and a creepy chick was hounding me.

Rena cut up her apple into eight perfect slices. She systemically put a dollop of peanut butter on each one. Delicately she popped one into her mouth. Chew. Swallow. In went the next. I watched with fascination. I became fixated on watching her eat. The monotony of the task drove everything else out. A minute or two passed before she became fully aware of this.

"Is there something on my face?" She grabbed a napkin and dabbed around her mouth.

"No. I'm just, uh, thinking. Sorry." I dropped my eyes.

"You look down," Patrice said from behind me. She plopped down in the seat next to me. She was wearing an orange maxi dress, with a white shawl over her shoulders. She looked like a safety cone and yet, still she looked good. She grabbed some of my pretzels.

"Just having a few problems."

Rena and Patrice exchanged looks. Everyone knew my problems. This did not mean I wanted to talk openly about them over turkey, apples, and pretzels.

"I heard those two agents talking about a missing vampire-"

"You mean you were eavesdropping on them?" If I survived this ordeal I would never take part in her gossip circle again.

"Call it what you want. So, you okay? This can't be easy for you."

I grimaced and put my hands in my lap. If I ran away and hid I wouldn't have to look into all the eyes that offered me pity. Instead I said nothing and looked away.

"Poke her in the eyes. Like I said before, having speed and strength is useless if you can't see." She smiled. Yes, her very sound advice of poking out eyes.

A vision of those eyes trying to bend me flashed in my mind's eye. Patrice's suggestion was easy to imagine, but harder to execute.

"It'll be alright in the end. You'll see." She grabbed another pretzel and smiled another beautiful toothy grin. She got up, patted my shoulder and left me with my food.

"Yeah," Rena said quickly. "You're tough. You can take on one, newly turned vampire."

I wish I was as confident as she was. I gave Rena my best smile.

~*~*~

I drove home in silence. I didn't even bother with the radio. My body had long since surpassed tired. I looked forward to lying down with Sasha and watching TV. I'd sleep when I was dead. I shuddered, thinking how close that might be.

The light in the front room was on. Chris was off work and probably playing video games. I was relieved. I'd have to go into a dark house if he wasn't up and about. Sasha didn't greet me at the door. Chris wasn't around. I walked into the kitchen and put my purse on the table.

"Hello?" I called tentatively.

The door flew open and Chris stopped dead in his tracks. He looked like a hunted animal. "Sasha ran away!" He blurted out.

"What?!" I bounded passed him onto the sidewalk. I missed the last step and nearly fell flat on my face onto the walkway.

"I took her out an hour ago. She caught a scent or something. I don't know. She pulled the leash out of my hands and ran for it. I'm so sorry! I've been running up and down the streets looking for her."

I ignored him, running off into the darkened alley crying out for Sasha.
Eight

I zigzagged through the streets and alleys. I screamed Sasha's name. With each minute that passed my whole body filled with desperation. Sasha got loose from her leash before. She was an inquisitive dog. These things happened once in a while. But somewhere out there Jessica lay in wait. Sasha would not become a causality to that vampire bitch.

"Sasha!" I stopped to catch my breath in an alley behind Austin. My legs hurt from inappropriate footwear. My body would not thank me for this tomorrow.

The night was chilly. The air settled over my sweaty body, blanketing me in its coolness. "Sasha!"

A man came to his chain link fence. He had a bag of garbage in his hand. He looked at me like I was a crazy person. I'm sure I looked the part with my hair blowing wildly around my face and my eyes wide in fear. "Are you looking for a little brown and white dog?"

"Yes!" I bounded over to him. My legs screamed in protest at running in sandals. Sasha first. I could deal with the pain when we were both safe at home.

"I caught a glimpse of one. Another woman, with blond hair was chasing her. They headed toward the park." He pointed westward. "Your friend wasn't having any luck catching her."

A blessing in disguise. "Thank you so much!" I shook his hand furiously before running for the park.

I knew the little park well. I sometimes did my runs there. It had a modest playground, a few baseball diamonds, some tennis courts, a brick one story park district building. Nothing truly spectacular, but it served its purpose. Sometimes, when I babysat my niece and nephews I would bring them over. It was a nice place to visit, during the day.

The lights over the baseball diamonds were lit. They cast a glow over the field before me. I realized my folly pretty quickly. When I was running my mind didn't stop to process what was happening. It all hit me in a rush. My purse, with the stake gifted to me by Angie, was on the kitchen table. It was past midnight, there was a full moon, and I was entirely alone. My cellphone sat next to the stake. In my purse. On the table. A few miles away. I could run pretty fast if I needed to, but I'd never outrun a vampire even in running shoes, much less sandals and long, flowing skirt.

I jogged a little further to one of the parks' baseball diamonds. There was a discarded metal bat left by the little leaguers. I picked it up, silently thanking forgetful little boys. I ran around calling for Sasha. That was also a terrible idea. Stupid, stupid Samantha. I suppose it didn't matter. Any Other, friendly or not, would sense me in the area anyway.

The air hit me as my heart rate dropped back down. The night was cold. With each intake my breath hung in the night like a little fog. I held tight to my bat.

"You smell pretty sweet when you sweat." I stopped. I knew what I'd see if I turned around. My heart pounded harder than it had while I was running. I forced myself to remain calm. I slowly turned.

Jessica was there. She wore a leather jacket, dark blue skinny jeans, and a faded Bob Dylan t-shirt. She held my Sasha. My dog looked terrified. This was a predator and she knew it. "I liked watching you run. You were so consumed with finding this doggy you never stopped once to think." Truer words had yet to escape Jessica's lips.

"Put my dog down."

"Your werewolf friend was easier to catch than I thought." She gave Sasha a little shake. She couldn't possibly think my little Corgi was Sean. "He fits into a nice package, so small and stupid. I offered a piece of jerky and he came right to me."

She was serious. The fool probably only cared about vampires. She'd never bothered to do her homework. No werewolf or shape shifter could shift into a different mass. Their bulk didn't magically disappear. If a two hundred pound, six foot three man shifted into a wolf and all that weight and height got redistributed. Not even a witch skilled in the art of transformation could solve the size issue. The "turning a prince into a frog" myth was still very alive and believed. However, if a witch did turn a man into a frog, it'd be one giant frog. I assumed Jessica, now an Other herself, would understand this. Had she not noticed the complete lack of male bits on my dog? Or did she think someone Sean, a man as a human, turned into a female dog at the full moon? I'd laugh at her idiocy if I wasn't so pants-wettingly scared.

"Give me the dog back."

"No sweetie, I don't want your werewolf to get it in his mind to attack." Her voice was even and calm. Sasha whimpered. I needed to get her away from Jessica. One wrong step, though, and my dog's neck would be snapped. "I'll put him down when you decide to take his spot. One bite and I'll make you forget about him."

"This is all because I won't turn over Angie's file? That's what a crazy person does!"

"I represent an interested party. I was told to retrieve her information and I intend to do just that. You represent an obstacle. Now," she tightened her grip on Sasha. "I don't want to hurt your friend, but I will. What are you going to do?"

"Give me my dog back!" I shrieked.

My shrill scream pushed Sasha into action. She knew when her mama was scared. She bit into Jessica's arm and gave it a shake. Jessica dropped her more from surprise than pain. In her moment of distraction I hit her in the face with the bat. The sound of metal connecting with skull made my stomach churn and roll. It cracked and a few droplets of blood sprayed out, coating the bat. Jessica staggered. The right side of her face was unrecognizable. I stood in horror as she fell to her knees, clutching at her face.

Sasha snarled and snapped by my legs. I snapped back into action, running, with Sasha a few paces before me.

I was jerked back as Jessica pulled on the back of my shirt. I landed flat on my back. Jessica took the bat from my hands and flung it. She sat on my pelvis. Blood dripped from her temple. The hit I gave her would have killed a human. Before my eyes the bones knitted themselves back together. The fraction, the indent from the bat, healed quickly. Only an open wound remained. She'd need more blood to finish the healing process. I had done such a number with the bat whatever blood she had earlier in the night wasn't enough. I filled with a sort of grim satisfaction.

The warmth of her blood dripped onto my face. It was cold almost as soon as it touched my skin. Having vampire blood enter the bloodstream was bad. Jessica only had to scratch my face open to infect me. I wouldn't become a vampire, no that was more complicated, but I'd be bound to her until her blood ran through my system.

She took hold of my chin. My eyes locked with hers. No, not this again. Those beautiful eyes held mine in a trance. "I'm going to open a cut on your cheek now." Her sweet voice made it sound like this would all be all right. That this was normal.

No! Samantha, no! This wasn't normal. Not for me. Other men and women might like being bound, being a servant to a vampire master. But that wasn't me. I liked how I lived. I did nice things for other people because I wanted to. I performed favors because it was my choice, not because some wench thought I should. I squirmed underneath her weight.

"Naughty, naughty." Sasha barked wildly. I prayed she wouldn't attack. She'd kill her. "Sit still," Jessica commanded.

I took my thumbs and jammed them into her eyes. "What the fuck?!" She screamed out and rolled over. I took the opportunity to run again. See you heal from that one!

I thought I glimpsed something in the shadows, by the tennis courts. I had no time to worry about what it could be. Whatever it was, my concern for it was second to my heart-pounding fear of Jessica.

She moved so fast. Suddenly she stood before me. I felt movement all around me. Something ran from the tennis courts to us. It was a large hulking shape. The already chill air became even colder. It was a feeling I was familiar with. My mind emptied of everything, but terror. Where had I felt this cold before?

Jessica pulled up a bench, poised to throw it. In an instant I ducked and the bench missed slamming into my head. I felt its breeze on my neck as I covered my head. Behind me the bench clattered into the dirt.

"Leave her and the pooch alone." Angie!

I uncovered my head. In front of me stood a seething Jessica. The cut from the wound was still open and bleeding. A great black wolf circled and growled around her. Behind me was Angie flanked by four more wolves. The biggest of the pack was almost up to Angie's chest. Between its legs Sasha barked with new found confidence.

Jessica flashed her teeth. "You! I've heard about you. I've been looking for you. Let's make a trade. You for Samantha." She had an arm around my waist in a second. The biggest wolf bounded at her. When Jessica fell backwards I went with her. Her arm wrapped around my neck. The wolf bit at her legs while I struggled against the crushing power of her arm on my windpipe.

The bark and snarl of the wolf was the thing of nightmares. I had heard angry dogs before, but this shook me down to my bones. The rest of the pack descended on Jessica, all snarling and snapping jaws. She let me go when one bit her thigh. She threw me off and rose herself, swinging wildly at the wolves. I rolled onto my back, trying to get up, but my legs wouldn't obey.

Angie grabbed me by the front of my shirt. I stood uneasily on my feet again. The werewolves snapped at Jessica's heels as she danced about. In one terrible moment Angie had me by the neck. She was on her tiptoes inspecting my face. "You'll survive," she declared. "Nightmares will be in your future, though. Now go home, call your BSB watchdogs and do me a favor. Omit my being here." Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. I could see star and moon reflected beautifully in them. Two black spheres showing me infinity. I nodded.

Warmth from Sasha's body pressed against my leg. I bent down to pick her up. My body shook as the adrenaline drained from my limbs.

"You'll be safe to walk. We'll keep her occupied." Angie pointed to Jessica who had climbed up the fence around home plate. "I'll teach her some manners."

I could feel Sasha's little heart beating double what mine was. I was thrilled she was alive.

"Hey! Come back! You fucking bitch!" Jessica screamed. "You fucking cunt!" Desperation was ugly and scary in a vampire. I retrieved the baseball bat. There was no need for little kids to find it covered with blood tomorrow. I didn't bother to look back. I just turned my feet home and walked.

~*~*~

Melvin Klein sat on the stairs to my place when I returned. I kept Sasha secure in one hand and brandished the bat at him with the other. He didn't move to attack me. He just sat there, looking as miserable as ever.

"What do you want?"

"You don't understand my sister. She's not like this."

That strength, that malice. She didn't seem to be anything, but a bully. "Three times now she's hurt me."

"It's the vampire that turned her. Some old one named Simon. They're lovers or something. I don't know. She started seeing him and everything changed. She turned me. I didn't want this. I didn't want to help her hunt for whatever this Simon guy wanted."

Simon. He was the one who wanted Angie's information. Why? I looked at Melvin. His dyed hair unwashed. His clothes ill-fitting on his skinny frame. He looked pathetic.

He continued when I said nothing. "Before Simon she'd never have done any of this. Sure, she had a temper, but she wasn't violent. Just give her what she wants and I'm sure she'll leave you alone."

"I don't believe that. She likes this hunter-prey scenario more than you seem to realize." She looked at me like I was lunch. Her duty to this Simon vampire first, then do as she likes with her victim. Those blue-green eyes burned with lust and hunger. If she bound me once to do her bidding for her master, there was nothing stopping her from continuing to do so until I was a shell.

"Leave my sister alone!" His voice rose. He snarled at me. Showing such ferocity that I backed away from. In my arms Sasha growled back.

"Hey!" Chris poked his head out of the front door. "I told you to get lost!"

Melvin's fight evaporated, but his eyes filled with hate as he pushed past me. Chris and I watched in silence until he was gone from view.

"I called the BSB when he showed up looking for you." Chris stated as I walked in. "They're sending someone over."

~*~*~

Balicki and Hill looked none too pleased with my story. "You hit Jessica Klein with a bat and ran?"

I washed the actual bat and hid it. I felt safer having it near me. I didn't want them to take it as evidence. Instead the bat I hit Jessica with was still at the park for all they knew. Angie asked, though I wasn't sure why, for me to omit her presence. I did it for reasons unknown to myself.

"She must have been low on blood. She didn't heal very fast otherwise she'd probably have caught me."

Balicki looked especially skeptical. Hill looked mostly amused. Balicki returned her notebook and pen to her messenger bag. "We got a report of a disturbance at the park. People in the area heard werewolves baying at the moon." She waited for me to add details to my story. I didn't. "We'll scour the neighborhood for Jessica and Melvin." I had, however, enlightened them to Melvin's visit and his mention of Simon.

"Might I suggest staying inside after dark for a while?" Hill put in.

I saw them out, hanging back in the door frame as they got into their car. When their taillights were out of sight I went back inside and bolted the door. Chris watched me carefully.

"It's bedtime," I said.

"You and I are going to have a talk in the morning." He disappeared into his room.

I cleaned up, got into my pink pajama pants and a spaghetti strap, gray top. When I came out of my room Sasha was scratching at the door. I glanced out the window to see the pack leader sitting in my front yard. I swung the door open and ran out, throwing my arms around his neck.

"Oh Sean." His tail wagged upon hearing his name. His fur was the same shade of golden brown as his normal hair. He even had the same outdoorsy, fresh cut grass smell Sean always did. "I'm so sorry."

He tugged away from my grasp, giving me the same cocked head look Sasha liked to give me. "I have always been afraid of you around the full moon. You never gave me a reason to be terrified. In fact you were always a friend, kind and courteous with me. And I was terrified of you around this time of the month. Like I thought you would maul me just cause. And you rescued me tonight when I didn't have any faith in you." His tail beat onto the grass. "Is it wrong to pet a werewolf?"

He nuzzled my hand. I slowly petted his head. Happy to feel his silky coat under my fingers. I finally felt relaxed. At least for a moment, then the air suddenly became colder.

Angie came up the street, carrying a duffel bag. "His clothes." I just stared. "We chased the little prick away, but the cops didn't catch her, so she may swing back this way."

"How did you get his clothes?"

"They were in the car he let me borrow to find you. I called him just after sunset. I figured Jessica might be up to something when she thought your werewolf boss wasn't around to help you."

I felt my face get hot. I got to my feet and stood in front of Angie, arms crossed, foot tapping. I wanted to look like a badass, but I felt like a spoiled brat. "You didn't think to tell me? Did you see her almost drain me?"

"I saw you poke her eyes and run. She was aiming that bench at us. She wanted you alive."

"Because of Simon?"

"Because of Simon."

"Who is he?"

Angie shrugged. The street light and full moon combined provided me a decent view of her face. Scared wasn't the right word. At least not scared in the way I would be scared. Nervous was the more apt description. She kept blinking rapidly and looking past me into the dark. Her nervousness worried me in a way I'd never felt before. It made me apprehensive, with a feeling of dread settling on my mind. If someone existed in this world that could unnerve Angie I didn't want to be on his bad side.

"I appreciate you not telling those agents about our involvement." She motioned to Sean. He sat impassively, watching our exchange.

"Would you care to enlighten me as to why Simon has Jessica coming after me?"

"You're the only human he knows I've had contact with. And you are pretty valuable. You have access to BSB files. With one click of your mouse he can get my address, phone number, and everyone I take blood from. Once he has that information you're expendable. He has no use for scared little girls."

Sean growled. It was deep, chilling. I looked over my shoulder. His eyes focused on Angie, all his teeth were barred, hackles up. I didn't know who to be more afraid of. I stood between two Others that could break, beat, and drain me in seconds. I wrapped my arms around myself protectively. I never wanted that growl directed at me.

"But why?" I said turning back to Angie.

Angie smiled. Her teeth shined like pearls. The smile didn't reach her eyes. "I took something from him a long time ago, something he had no right to in the first place." The smile evaporated. She shook her head, looking like she tried to shake some unpleasant thoughts away. "You look tired. Your friend here is staying the night. I'm going home. Get some sleep. I'll be in touch." She dropped the duffel bag at my feet. And that was it. She was gone.

"Want to sleep on a couch?" I hoisted the bag onto my shoulder. Sean's tail resumed its wagging. "Come on then. I'll...I'll...make all this up to you somehow."

Nine

Angie had been right. I did have nightmares. I kept waking up tangled in sheets, sweating. I couldn't remember all my dreams. All that stuck with me was the feeling of helplessness, of trying to run, but never getting away. It wasn't until the pink hues of dawn were visible through my window that my mind eased enough that I slept uninterrupted.

By eight Sasha danced at the door. My whole body fought against the heavy grip of sleep, but my dog refused to let it hold me down any longer. I didn't feel rested at all. That didn't matter to Sasha. She jumped onto my bed, licked my face, and whined until I got up.

I didn't bother to change out of my pajamas. I slunk through the flat trying not to disturb anyone. Though Chris's door was open, he was nowhere to be seen. There was a blanketed figure on the couch. Sean's feet dangled over the arm rest. I hadn't thought to pull out the couch bed for him. From the way he currently slept I didn't think that mattered.

I hooked Sasha up to her leash, slipped into my sandals, and quietly exited. The couple who lived upstairs was enjoying one last smoke together before heading to work. Both glared at me. My adventure from the night before had kept them up past decent hours. I waved, putting my friendliest face on. They didn't return it.

I walked Sasha around the block once. She wanted to run, but my shins burned with each step. I'd have to ice them later. "We'll run tomorrow." I told her when we got back.

Sean was up and dressed when we came back in. He looked bedraggled. The normal five o'clock shadow he tried to keep trimmed was almost a full on beard. He made a very sexy mountain man. Sasha greeted him with enthusiasm. Her tail whipped back and forth while she circled him for attention. Sean bent down to scratch her belly. Everyone was ruled by my dog. Spoiled, little queen.

"Cute dog," he said. He straightened himself.

"Pushy dog." I rubbed my arm awkwardly. What was I supposed to say? I'd never had a werewolf come to my rescue before. In fact, up until a few days ago, being surrounded by werewolves was a nightmare to me. He watched me, waiting for me to say something. Come on, say something, I chided myself. Say anything. "About last night-"

He didn't let me get any further. In two steps he'd closed the distance between us. One arm wrapped around my waist while his other hand cupped my face. His lips were hot and sweet against mine. His beard tickled me, but I didn't move away. Suddenly I felt rooted to the floor as electricity surged through my body. Common sense told me to break away. I no longer felt rooted. I felt like I was about to float away on this good feeling. I grabbed a handful of his shirt, looking for something of his to anchor myself to. The arm around my waist pulled me closer. I moved my own arms around him. The kiss deepened. He used his tongue to part my lips and I let him. My heart ka-thunked against my ribcage. I was moments away from melting from the heat when I heard the lock on the door catch.

We flew apart like shrapnel as Chris entered. Sean stood where he had been. I backed myself up against the kitchen table. Blood rushed to my face. Sean's face remained impassive, but his eyes searched me. Chris looked at us both. He was no fool. I was grateful he said nothing.

Instead he held up a paper bag bearing the insignia of the neighborhood bakery on it. "It looked like you guys had a bad night. And," he turned to Sean. I breathed a little easier with his eyes off me. "Thanks for putting pants on, man."

"Yeah, sorry you saw my junk this morning. It's the downside of the full moon. Naked when you turn wolf, naked when you turn back. I suggest vacuuming everything. There's a lot of fur over by the couch."

"That's truly disgusting," Chris said. He put the bag on the table. I had yet to move from my spot. He produced a cardboard box with raspberry coffee cake and a second box of assorted doughnuts. "Despite that, you're welcome to this bounty of sugar."

I suddenly kicked back into gear. Sean was still a guest. He didn't know his way around our cupboards. I circled around the counter island of our kitchen to retrieve some small, dessert plates and a knife to cut the coffee cake. I handed a plate to each of the guys. Or at least tried to.

"If you don't mind, I'll just take a doughnut for the road," Sean said selecting a chocolate frosted one with sprinkles. "I need to shower and sleep off the effects of the full moon. I'm pretty much useless the day after."

He smiled at me. The same kind smile he always gave me. But it was somehow different today. My heart pounded in my chest.

"Do you need a ride anywhere?" I said. It had taken a while, but I finally found my voice again.

"No. Angie parked my car around here."

"A pleasure meeting you." Chris shook Sean's hand. We were going to end up having a very long talk once Sean was gone.

It would be the polite thing to do to show Sean out. I wanted to. Another kiss would be nice, but that would be bad. He was my boss. I liked my job at the BSB; discounting the current drama I had a decent position. I had an office, a salary, a great insurance policy, and I was easily able to pay off my student loans. Most people who graduated with me couldn't say the same.

Sean was attractive and nice and I had always swooned over him in private. However, unless he supported me after my inevitable firing from the BSB no good would come of this. I also couldn't be sure of his motives for the kiss to begin with. Working at the BSB I heard lots of stories about werewolves. Transformations messed with their minds. Sean never came into work the day after a full moon. Who's to say the kiss hadn't been some left over instinct? Some instinct to mate with the most available female that could be attracted. Spread the seed to ensure survival. Or what if he was only interested because he had some white knight complex. I needed saving. He rescued me. End of story.

The thoughts bounced around for about ten seconds. This lasted an eternity to me. Chris cleared his throat. "I'm a car guy." He wasn't. "Can I check out your ride?" He trailed Sean out, looking back long enough for me to mouth the words "thank you".

I sat at the table. There was an important decision left before me. Coffee cake or doughnuts? I made my decision and was cutting the cake when Chris came back in.

"Well?" I asked, dropping a huge piece onto my plate.

"He drives a green Range Rover. Four wheels and an engine, goes vroom vroom." He didn't sit with me. He just stood with his hands on his hips next to the table. "Any trouble at the office you want to tell me about?"

I cut an extra piece of coffee cake. By the time I finished talking I had plowed through both pieces and two doughnuts. My stomach churned and my head ached from all the sugar. I didn't want to get sick again.

"Please tell me you're calling in sick."

I shook my head. I had one more day and then a day off. I could survive. I would survive. The baseball bat from the park lay on my bed. I'd bring it everywhere as protection.

"Do you at least want a ride to and from? I can see about getting my shift changed."

This was a sound idea. But I didn't want to put Chris out. "I'll take a taxi." For a generous tip I could get the driver to wait until I was safely inside my house before driving away.

Chris nodded. "Uh, one more thing. You and Sean..."

"Are just friends...?" I offered.

"You and I are just friends."

"There's nothing there. There can't be. I value my job too much." I hoped his kiss wouldn't haunt me. It had felt so good. So right. Boss, I reminded myself firmly.

"Just remember our friendship doesn't extend to me paying your rent for the rest of your life. So if something does come of it, don't get caught."

He laughed, but it was uneasy. He wasn't just worried about my job. He was worried about me. I got up from my seat and gave him a hug to reassure me. He patted my back gently, pushed me back, and held me by the shoulders.

"Do you need anything at all?"

Sasha was at my feet licking them to get my attention. I had almost lost her. She was just a dog. No one should harm her to get to me, but Jessica came dangerously close. If she had hurt my baby I'd have attacked her with such reckless abandon I'd probably be dead in a ditch somewhere. For my safety and Sasha's she needed to be somewhere else until this blew over.

"Can you take Sasha to my parents' house?" Naperville was far out of the way from us.

"You betcha. Sasha!" He bent down, slapping his hands on his knees excitedly. "You and I are going on an adventure!" She wiggled around in a circle.

I felt better about this arrangement. I couldn't protect myself entirely, but I could keep her safe. I'd miss her company though.

Chris was right. I was bruised, aching, tired, and scared. Then there was the confusion I felt over having Sean's tongue in my mouth. On the other hand, it was Friday. I'd survived the week and could enjoy two days off in silence and contemplation, i.e. I'd be drunk. Sean wouldn't be in the office. It's easier to avoid people who you never have to see. I wouldn't have to partake in the awkward dance of "what happened between us" with him. Okay! Time to put on my big girl pants and go to work

Ten

A lithe woman left my office in a huff. Her husband was one of my clients and she demanded to see who he used for blood. Her terror that he was cheating was natural, but rules were rules. When I refused to show her, she dumped her wild berry smoothie into my lap. Hooray. I should have stayed in bed. Her tantrum broke up the mind-numbingly boring task of entering in last month's reports. I could have done without the smoothie in my lap though. On the other hand the smoothie had ruined the memo on my desk stating we'd have a four hour meeting tomorrow at ten about the upcoming audits. Saturday meetings, joy. My longed for day off was ruined.

I grabbed my turtleneck from out of my desk. I used it in an attempt to mop up the mess the woman had made. I loved wearing wet jeans. I loved wearing wet jeans that smelled like berries. My coral, blue striped blouse was untouched. Small blessings. It'd be a bitch trying to get a berry stain out of it.

My phone rang once and then May's voice crackled over the speaker. "Angie Winter is coming up." Fucking fabulous.

I braced myself for her arrival. She waltzed in wearing a dark green maxi dress and flips flops. Her hair was now a dyed black and done up in a top knot. It was the most normal I had ever seen her. She sat on the corner of my desk. I didn't like her there.

"You smell like berries." She looked at my lap. "I've never had a smoothie, but shouldn't it go in your mouth?"

"Can I help you?" My normal fear of Angie was replaced by a belligerent annoyance. She had let me fall into danger. I could have been killed and she hadn't told me, but she had told Sean. I should have been the party in the know! And I was in danger because she stole something.

"Did wolfy share your bed last night?"

"Excuse me? He's my boss."

She tapped her nails on my desk. They were perfectly manicured and painted with a forest green to match her dress. "I'm sure he wishes you weren't. In fact I'm surprised he's waited this long to attempt to hump your leg."

"Cute analogy. What do you want?" I ignored her comments about Sean. White knight complex, I told myself, repeating it in my brain as my new mantra.

"You should be thrilled. Not only did a Were protect you, but he's a very influential one. You do know that, right?"

"Yes, he's Vanessa Fornes and Craig Benson's oldest."

The Fornes pack ruled the northside. Benson was from a small, but powerful pack in Milwaukee. Vanessa was the alpha female in Evanston, having challenged her parents and taken over. Craig was a beta male in his pack. Taking off to make a prosperous marriage and gain alpha status elsewhere. Both families had serious investments spanning back to the 1860s.

They lived in a mansion in Evanston, near the lake, ruling their pack of a hundred some werewolves. They were powerful before the Others came out, now they were royalty and very open activists. Sean coming into the BSB at a manager level was no accident. His parents and sister were the face of Others' advocacy in Chicago. He worked behind the scenes ensuring fair treatment through proper channels.

His status was never an issue in our office. He was Sean. Buying us dinner from his own pocket, taking us out for drinks, being a friend when it was needed and being a boss when it was needed.

"It's all very surprising he picked you. Don't you think it's surprising?"

I sneered at Angie. How dare she call his background into this. As if I wasn't worth a sniff by a werewolf of his standing. I'm good enough for anyone, human or Other.

I mentally smacked my forehead with my palm. Boss, I reminded myself. White knight complex. It doesn't matter who thinks I'm good enough or not.

"What difference does any of that make?"

She shrugged. "None. I'm just making a passing comment. I didn't come in here to discuss your sex life."

Good. I didn't have one at the moment. So it'd be a pretty short conversation. I let my anger at Angie flood my veins. "Angie, I dealt with a fear last night that I will never get over and I could have been spared if you had said something to me."

It was the first change of expression I'd ever seen from her. I couldn't tell if she was impressed, taken aback, or pissed. Her expression quickly changed back to her normal impassive look. "I didn't think you'd forget the fucking stake." It was now safely in my purse and the baseball bat was under my desk.

"And you told Sean I was in danger. Once again, I should have been told. Your almighty bitch routine is wearing me down. I'm sick of these secrets and little conferences with my boss about my safety without telling me. What the hell is wrong with you?" My brain said "shut up Samantha," but my mouth decided that wasn't in the cards. "That creep has been harassing me all week and you have the nerve to walk in here and tell me I shouldn't have forgotten the stake."

Angie leaned close. She smelled of lilac. The pleasant smell didn't couple well with black, irisless eyes. I made her furious. Her voice was a whisper. "You want to be in real danger? I can make that happen." She straightened again. "Now, Jessica didn't want to kill you, so you would have lived to see me rip her heart out."

I wheeled my chair back, up against the wall. "Get out of here."

"I could have let her have her way. Look, I wanted to help you. And I am willing to do any amount of favors if you do one for me. Just one." Vampires couldn't exactly feel fear like me, but she was afraid. This Simon guy had her terrified. "I like you, at least for a BSB worker. I had a case worker in Boston and he was a dick. You at least want to believe I have humanity rather than deriding me as nothing more than a soulless leech. I let my last case worker get sucked dry and left dead in a dumpster. He decided to help Simon instead."

I felt all the color in my face drain away. If I tried hard enough perhaps I could melt into the wall. I was the one who put her name in the database. Most older vampires stopped changing their names when they revealed. She'd revealed once before and still changed her name. And her first case worker was dead.

"I need your help. You can ask for anything from me in return." My heart pounded against my ribcage. I didn't want to have to sign any consent forms or be helplessly bound to anyone. My hand went straight to my chest. I pressed against the bruise, letting the sting of the pressure bring me down to reality. "I need you to destroy my file."

"What?"

"Take my file and burn it. I'll protect you until Jessica is killed by her creator."

She was desperate. I wasn't a conniving, vindictive little harpy, but I saw an opportunity here. I lowered my voice. Patrice's office was next door. Her little ears were probably all perked up. "Why? There's nothing in it but your consent forms."

Again she bent forward. "Exactly. Those people trusted me enough to not kill them. You don't destroy that file I'll let Jessica have you while I leash your little Were with a silver collar. You aren't a bad person, Samantha, and I don't want to make you suffer, but if any harm comes to those people I drank from, I'll see to it you're in a dumpster next."

"What is going on?"

"I told you. I took something that didn't belong to an old friend."

That wasn't good enough. "What really happened?"

She glanced over her shoulder. My door was still open. Balicki and Hill kept walking by to protect me. She moved off my desk, making to shut us inside. "Don't close it. Someone will think I'm in danger."

Angie rolled her eyes, but sat back where she was. He face got closer to mine. "Have you ever heard of the Tears of Christ?"

"The what?"

"They're an old vampiric legend. The story goes when the devil tempted Christ in the desert he collected His tears. The devil gifted the Tears to his cursed children, the vampires. Any vampire who drank of them would no longer have to be confined to darkness and wouldn't need permission to enter a victim's home. Supposedly Elizabeth Báthory and Gengis Khan both drank of the Tears. Lucky for the world both of them died. I don't know if the stories are true. I imagine if they were the Tears of Christ would have dried up long ago. It doesn't matter. If Simon drank the tears and new powers were granted his bloodlust would double. If the stories were wrong he'd go mad from disappointment. I stole the Tears and ran. Before I could go decades without seeing him, now he's found me twice in two years."

"Can't you just run away again?"

"I don't want him to hurt anyone I've fed on. Those people who sign my consent forms are hangers-on. They want to feel a taste of the immortal, but are afraid to ask for the curse. They shouldn't be hurt by Simon for wanting the pleasure I give them."

I tapped my foot anxiously. It all made me very nervous. "Where are the Tears now?"

"Hidden. Somewhere Simon would never, ever think was possible."

Silence settled between us. Angie asked a lot. I risked a lot in saying yes.

"I'm not going to lose my job over this."

"You don't seem to understand the severity of this situation."

"I think I do. Seems to me I'm dead one way or the other." It hurt to admit it, but I did understand. I let my voice drop even lower. "I destroy your file and your powerful enemy will kill me. I keep it and you kill me. I don't even have these precious Tears to barter with."

"I said you'd have protection."

"Not forever. You already fled Boston. Just by knowing you, I'm going to die. Thanks a lot."

Angie's brows furrowed. My sarcastic thanks pissed her off. Good. I was plenty mad already. I would be safe at my BSB desk, doing my paperwork and checking notaries if she'd stayed in Boston. I wouldn't be terrified every night of a psycho vampire. I wouldn't be having advances from a werewolf with a hero complex. And I wouldn't be worrying that my parents were going to be killed too. Or my roommate. Well nuts to this.

I craned my neck out. "Bite it." I put a finger on my jugular. "Right there."

"You've been a whimpy, turtleneck wearing, little girl since I met you. Now you grow some stones?"

I was tired, physically and mentally. If Angie killed me I knew she wouldn't bind me too. I could go out with some dignity.

"I'll give you a day to rethink this death wish. I can and will protect you. I'll be watching your every move until you agree." She pulled a post-it from my stack. In a fluid motion she scribbled down a number for me. "You can reach me there." On a second post-it she wrote down an address. "I advise going there after work and speaking with Bridget. She'll see you safely through the night."

After she left I released the tension in my body. I had hours left, but I just wanted to get good and drunk. My parents were in danger, my roommate was in danger. If I stayed at a hotel I was an easy target. If I stayed with friends they became a target. Well Samantha, you are royally screwed.

~*~*~

The address Angie provided led me to the loudest, most well lit bar off Northwest Highway. I passed Sláinte frequently to and from clients' houses. It stood out because protestors always hung out front to boycott it. It was owned by a witch. And from my understanding she wasn't a particularly quiet one.

I paid the cab driver and stood outside surveying the bar for a minute. Inside the bass had been turned up causing vibrations to travel up through the soles of my feet. It was Friday night. I expected little else from a bar tonight. A crowd of about five stood outside enjoying a smoke and chatting. If this Bridget person was inside I'd probably have a drink, then high tail it out. I was in no mood for the noise and the people. I hoisted the bat onto my shoulder and entered.

I plopped down at the bar, elbowing bros out of the way. A woman of medium height with dark red hair, that frayed out around her heart shaped face came over to me. She wore a Tom Petty tour t-shirt and lowriders. I could see a St. Bridget's cross tattoo peeking out on the flash of skin between shirt and jeans. Her face had a few freckles that managed to avoid being concealed by her make-up.

I slid a twenty at her. "Three fingers of Jack and a splash of coke. I've got more twenties and a need to be drunk."

"Ugh, finally!" She shouted over the music. "I've been pouring out beers and fruity cocktails all night to punks. I disapprove of your coke and choice of liquor, but at least you're not pansying up my bar." She held up her index finger. "One minute." She had managed to hear the bar phone over the music and talking. I watched her mouth move and at one point she turned to me. Her smile was friendly when she returned. "Samantha?"

"Uh..." Angie said to come here. Had she set me up?

Reading my expression the woman shook her head. "Bridget O'Malley. That was Angie. We can talk privately later." She screamed. "When it settles down."

Settles down? The pre-audit meeting was tomorrow. I needed to be in bed and rested. Closing time was hours away. I didn't really think it'd quiet down before then.

"Here!"She produced an unmarked bottle from under the bar. Down the length of the bar another bartender, a black man about my height with beautifully maintained dreadlocks, frowned intensely at seeing the bottle. She pushed the twenty back in my direction. "You take a shot of this, I'll comp your next two drinks."

A man around my age pushed up against me. He smelled like cheap beer and pizza. "I want my shit comped. I want in!"

I elbowed him into backing up. "What is it?"

Bridget had a glint of mischief in her blue eyes. The mirth didn't transfer to her lips. She actively frowned at the guy elbowing his way up to the bar. "My granddad's special brew. One shot, if you keep it down and don't scream in pain, I'll comp your next two drinks. Yours too, Mr. Nosey."

I held out my hand. We may be women, but I always ensured free stuff by entering into gentleman's agreements. Just like my dad taught me. She took it and gave it a firm shake.

She grabbed two shot glasses and opened the bottle. Looked like whiskey, smelled like paint thinner. My eyes watered at the stench. She poured out two shots and pushed them forward.

"Ladies first," the man said.

I cut my eyes to him and then rolled them. I downed my shot. I essentially drank fire. It burned my throat, heat tried to escape through my nostrils. I let my tongue loll out of my head.

"Fuuuuck..." I moaned.

"Here," the bartender handed me a glass filled halfway with an off white creamy liquid. "It'll stop the burning. You're next, Buddy."

Smugness on his face, the man picked up his shot. His friends slapped him on the back, cheering him on that he could beat a girl at a drinking contest. When the shot went in, it came right back out. He sprayed the bar with it and whimpered, crying. "Give me some of that." He reached for my glass. Bridget whipped him with a towel.

"Only winners get that. You have to live with the burning taste of defeat."

Like a beaten dog he slunk away, friends helping him along. I drank the liquid in front of me in one gulp. Its coolness leeched the heat and provided a sweet aftertaste. The things I do for free stuff.

"Well done, girlie." She took away my empty glass and replaced it with a whiskey and coke.

The defeated man was complaining to the black guy behind the counter. He laughed at the guy and waved down at our end. "You beat granddad's brew, even my friend, David, hasn't managed that."

"Thanks, uh-"

"Way to take it like a champ, Samantha. That second drink," she tapped the glass that had been filled with the white liquid. "It's my own personal brew. Holy water, garlic, and a hint honey for flavor. It helps repel vampires."

"What does it do exactly?"

"Vampires can smell it on you, but if one is dumb enough to bite you it'll turn their mouth to ash."

Maybe Angie hadn't set me up after all. I sipped at my whiskey and coke. "I am going to need these to keep coming my way."

~*~*~

The room at Sláinte spun around me. The other bartender, the one Bridget called David, held me upright. He kept trying to force garlic bread and water into my mouth. I hadn't eaten since the donuts and coffee cake. Three drinks had completely done me in. The digital clock over the bar read four AM. David, Bridget, and I had been drinking and laughing for hours. I hadn't even felt the time pass.

David had a French manicure that I kept fixating on. He wore beautiful gold contacts, making him appear exotic. One of his dreads brushed my face. I swatted at it, convinced it was alive.

"Christ, Bridget, why didn't you cut her off?" he growled.

"I didn't think three would put her under the table. Geez, I even watered down that last one."

Deep within me my stomach roiled. "I'm gonna be sick."

David grabbed a waste bin and shoved it under my chin. When I was done being sick I looked up to see Bridget on the phone.

"Yeah she's safe. She's a bit under the weather at present, Angie."

Another wave erupted out of me. David held my hair back. Near me I could smell an open bottle of some noxious fumes. "David, I'm staying here tonight to keep an eye on this one." I heard Bridget pour something.

David mumbled something. "Pass me some of the pizza. I may as well stay too."

Eleven

I woke up under a table at Sláinte. Bridget was passed out at a booth with one foot on the table. There was an empty bottle of rum next to her. Her co-owner, David, slumped over a table. My problems seemed miles away in light of my hangover. The terrible pain I endured was my biggest problem currently.

My phone vibrated. I flipped it open, "Hello?" My own voice tore through my brain.

"Where are you?" It was Patrice. "You're supposed to be at the office."

"What time is it?"

"Nine forty."

Uh oh. "The meeting."

"Yes, the meeting. Get your ass over here." Click.

I looked at my clothes. I vaguely recalled how vomit got on my pant leg. It coupled horribly with the smoothie stain. I wore only a black undershirt on top. My blouse was MIA. Oh yeah and I reeked of alcohol. "I am boned," I said aloud.

Bridget rubbed her eyes. "What's up?"

"I'm a mess and about to be late for a meeting."

"Come on," Bridget eased herself out of the booth. "I keep a change of clothes in the office. I think I've got a skirt that might fit." Her eyes were bloodshot. I could be sure mine were probably the same.

I looked at my phone. Ten missed calls and twenty texts. Fabulous.

"I need a cab."

"David!" Bridget shouted. I grabbed my head. "Wake up!" She gave him a poke. "Can you drive Samantha to the BSB office?"

"Yeah, yeah." Aside from looking extremely uncomfortable David was no worse for the wear. Methinks he hadn't gotten completely plastered last night.

I fell into step behind Bridget on our short walk to the bar's office. Inside there was a cheap pressboard desk and faux leather chair. Bridget had hung an Irish flag on the wall farthest from the door. A White Sox World Series poster hung opposite, right next to the door. Papers were scattered here and there. An empty wire cage was against the wall on the left hand side of me. It was set up on an old army trunk.

Bridget handed me a modest black skirt. She was few inches shorter than me. What would have fallen just below her knees hung just above mine.

"Have you seen my blouse anywhere?"

"Not since you came in. Let's see what I can do about that." Bridget moved the wire cage and opened the army trunk. There were a few shirts inside mixed with some random odds and ends. She held up a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt. I would be swimming in it. Not exactly professional. I hoped my face radiated my uncertainty at her choice in attire.

She threw the shirt over her desk chair. This time when she came up from the trunk she held a tweed blazer, tan, complete with leather patches. I took it, buttoning it up over my tank top undershirt.

"Do I look as ridiculous as I feel?"

"Do you feel like a cross-dressing professor with a drinking problem?"

"Yes."

"Then you look as ridiculous as you feel." Bridget patted my back and left the office so I could change. I peeled away my jeans and shimmied into the skirt. I pulled my hair into a ponytail since there was little else that could be done with it.

When I emerged from the back David had keys in hand and was ready to fly. Bridget offered me a Dixie cup as I left. I was relieved to see it was filled with mouth wash. My entire mouth felt gritty and there was a terrible taste in it. I gargled and spit it out while David brought his car around to the street.

~*~*~

We drove along to work. I cried silently because the sun hurt my head and eyes. Even through my sunglasses the sun hurt. I felt grimy and dehydrated. There was a knot in my stomach, but it wasn't there from the hangover.

"Thanks for the ride," I said quietly when we pulled into the parking lot.

"I don't really get a say when it comes to Bridget." He didn't sound angry, just stated a fact.

"Oh, uh, sorry." I didn't really want to make another enemy. "I didn't mean to put anyone out."

"No worries. I feel like I owe you since I didn't stop Bridget from funneling drinks into you."

David pulled his Camry up to the main doors. The parking lot was filled. Everyone was inside having our pre-audit meeting. Prepping us for what was to come. I was late. Not only that I was ill-dressed. I was calling attention to myself no matter what.

"I'll just catch a cab home."

David shook his head. He reached over me to retrieve something from the glove compartment. "Give me your arm." With the glove box pen he scribbled some numbers on my arm. "Just text me."

I got out. I looked like crap. I felt like crap. I refused to remove my sunglasses for fear of an instant migraine. Despite the mess I was I strode to the door pretending I had the confidence of a Victoria's Secret model. I marched to the first floor conference room, stopping briefly outside. I could hear Carl inside. Through the door's little window I saw that he stood before the assembled workers. He was in a suit and he talked with his hands.

All my fake confidence evaporated. This wasn't me. I never drank when I had to be up and out in the morning. My hand shook as it went near the doorknob. I couldn't delay much longer. It was only a matter of time before someone caught me hovering outside. I pushed through the door, face red with embarrassment. Carl didn't halt his speech, but he looked directly at me.

A few eyes in the back row did the same. The conference room was like a small lecture hall. It was set up with five rows of folding chairs, ten across. There were no more open seats. So I leaned against the back wall. I caught sight of Sean near the front. He caught sight of me too. I lowered my eyes.

The meeting lasted four hours. I learned very little. A serious complaint had been filed. The complaint was that a BSB case worker had said and done some derogatory things. The accuser did not feel safe and given recent stakings at a BSB office in Portland, Oregon these complaints were taken very seriously. No mention that the accuser had attacked the same case worker she leveled her accusations at. We'd all be observed and questioned. Questions would be about us, about coworkers, and personality examinations. We then watched a two hour video on prejudice in the workplace.

I texted David as Carl wrapped everything up. He hadn't seemed too happy about driving me this morning. I hoped the number he gave me wasn't fake.

I filed out of the conference room first. There was no way I would willing talk to anyone in my current state. I ducked into the first floor bathroom and waited for a response for my text. Knowing other women would be coming in to use the facilities after such a long, boring meeting, I did what any self respecting person would do. I hid in a stall.

The door to the bathroom opened. At least three women entered. I could hear them talking. Eavesdropping wasn't a habit of mine so I did my best to tune them out. It'd have been easier if Patrice wasn't among the women who entered.

"I can't believe she showed up late. In that tacky ass jacket. Then she has the nerve to hide in the bathroom." I stood on the toilet and looked over the door at Patrice. She stood with her hip cocked, arms crossed over her chest, glaring up at me. Two other women, I didn't recognize, had come in with her. They went into the empty stalls. "You smell like a distillery. Now get down from your creepy post so these fine ladies can use the bathroom."

I did as I was told. I exited the stall and stood before Patrice.

"You look like hell. What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about. Hung over and all that." Patrice scrunched up her face. She raised an eyebrow. "Rain check?" I offered.

"Go home and take a damn shower." Patrice made a disapproving grunt, but stepped aside from the door. "You'd tell me if you needed help right?" She asked as I passed.

No. "Of course." She rewarded my lie with a warm smile.

Relieved of my duty to explain myself I left my sanctuary of the bathroom. I caught sight of Carl walking toward the elevator with Agent Hill. Balicki was nowhere to be seen. I did need to go home and shower, but I had questions.

"Carl!" I pushed my way through the BSB people milling out.

Carl and Hill stopped to look me over. Carl looked annoyed. "How nice of you to join the meeting. Did you not see the memo yesterday?"

"Yeah, about this. Why is this moving forward? Jessica came after me twice. Do I need to show you the bruise again?"

Annoyance was replaced with pity. "I'm sorry Miss Dunmore." I actually believed him. "The audit is going to continue. The auditor, a-" he looked to Hill for the name.

"Stevenson Dhaliwal," Hill said.

"He insisted this continue. Whether or not this Jessica Klein woman is lying or not, a lot of attention is being drawn to this office. The BSB wants to avoid a scandal going public. This is really just a show, Miss Dunmore."

Scandal? Like if my body drained of blood washes onto the lakeshore? Dear God, I was going to die thanks to bureaucracy and red tape. "This isn't fair," I said flatly.

"Be home before dark, Miss Dunmore. Put my number on speed dial. I will make sure someone patrols around your house tonight," Hill instructed.

In my pocket I felt my phone vibrate. My ride was probably here. Shoulders slouched, head down, I power walked from the elevator to the front door. A few of the smokers outside raised their eyes to me. They sniggered and went back to their quiet conversations.

In the parking lot Bridget leaned up against a cherry red Mustang convertible. She wore flare legged jeans that were a size too big and a white t-shirt proudly showing Bowie's face. Sitting on the hood, like a car model, was a fire haired woman. Her hair blew in the slight breeze like a fire on top of her head. She wore jean shorts stopping short of her ass and a gray tank top. She filed her nails while Bridget waved me over.

I felt a figure move behind me as I started to walk. I looked over my shoulder to see Sean. His eyes fixated on the Mustang.

"You've made some new friends," he said. "I don't suppose Bridget gave you some of Granddad's special brew."

"You know her?" I turned completely to face him.

His eyes left the car to look at me. "She's been a witness to a few territory disputes. She's...unhinged, at best." His face clouded at some memory he was not willing to share. He sniffed the breeze. "I'd say that's her sister. I can smell Were on her."

"Is her sister unhinged?"

"No more than any other human who has been turned. All I know is she's a registered loner."

This meant she could move freely among pack boundaries without permission. And if she was turned it meant she was probably more than a little unhinged given that the full moon was only two days passed.

"Angie introduced us. Bridget had some sort of vampire repellent." I shrugged. I didn't want to be near Sean right now. Mostly because I wanted another kiss like the one we'd shared. It was not the time or place for that.

"She's a pretty competent witch. She'd do well selling her potions and charms instead of running a bar. Samantha, I'd like to talk to you. Privately." He cast her eyes back toward the car. I looked too. Bridget was coming over.

I wasn't interested in talking. I didn't know what Sean wanted to say, but after putting his tongue in my mouth it couldn't be good. Those kinds of talks never were.

"I need to be going."

"Alright," he said quietly.

"Hey Samantha, you ready?" Bridget reached us. She eyed Sean carefully, trying to place him. "Benson, right?" He nodded. "Nice to see you again. Mind if I steal my friend here for lunch?"

"Mind if I tag along?"

Bridget's face contorted. I looked at both of them. Neither one appeared to trust the other. In the world of Others, vampires hated witches because witches were born into their role. Werewolves hated vampires because they didn't like the god complex vampires adopted. And witches hated most everyone because they were the most human, seen as the weakest. There was a lot of distrust in the community of Others. It was part of the reason the BSB wasn't resisted with any real force. No one could unite long enough to make a better deal.

I felt the tension between the witch and werewolf. Centuries of instinct funneled into the firm handshake they now shared.

"I'll pay," Sean offered.

Satisfied with this deal, Bridget broke free of the handshake. "My sister won't want another Were in her car though."

"I'll drive."

Bridget nodded and went back to the Mustang to retrieve her sister.

"What was that about?" I fell into step behind Sean. He unlocked his Range Rover from part way across the parking lot.

"Want me to take you home first to change?" He said. I frowned. I didn't want him ignoring my questions.

But I also did want a change of clothes. "Yeah, that'd be great."

I climbed into the backseat of the Rover. Someone else could sit up front with Sean. He made no objections to this. Bridget climbed in the back with me. Her sister getting up front.

"This is my sister Jenna. Jenna, meet Samantha."

"Yo." Jenna shook my hand.

No one said anything as we drove to my house. Classic rock pumped into the car, but I could barely hear it. I rolled down my window. As if that could somehow break the tension. Bridget, Jenna, and Sean all sat rigidly. No one trusting anyone else. Relief cascaded over me when Sean parked in front of my place.

"Can I use your bathroom?" he asked, unbuckling himself.

"I guess."

He left the keys in the ignition. A sign he trusted Jenna and Bridget not to commit grand theft auto. He trailed me in.

Chris had drawn the shades. Everything was shadowed. Chris's car was outside, but he didn't stir when we came in. Probably napping away in his room. I felt lonely without Sasha running to greet me. That was fine. She was safer where she was.

I made for the bedroom to change, but Sean stopped me. "I'm worried about you," he said flatly. He had me firmly by the arm. I shook him off, not liking the restraint. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Do you know what the Tears of Christ are?" I hadn't planned to tell him. But I knew Sean better than Bridget. I felt more comfortable asking him about Angie's relic.

"Supposedly the devil gifted them to his vampire children. Witches say they're actually a witch potion. And werewolves think they're actually meant for us. They're about as real as gold at the end of rainbows. Why? Who told you about them?"

"Angie. She said she stole them from this guy, Simon. He turned Jessica. He wants them back."

"And you're her case worker so you know how to contact her." He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't think the Tears of Christ exist. Just a tale to keep Others searching, giving us something to believe in. Like the Holy Grail. People get fanatical about this sort of thing."

Worry creased his brow. He took both my hands in his. "Did Angie say what she did with them?"

"No. She said she hid them. I don't know. I thought if I found them..."

"Don't finish that thought."

I didn't know where I was going with it anyway. What if I found them? I give them to Simon Angie attacks. I keep them secret Simon continues his attacks through Jessica. But maybe...

"If I held on to them I'd have some bargaining power. What other choice do I have? The BSB is just making reports, but not doing anything." I pulled my hands away and gestured to the door. "That vampire is out there! Angie put me in this position! Why shouldn't I find this thing and give it back? If this Simon guy is powerful enough to scare her, he can protect me."

Tears welled up in my eyes. I refused to cry. I used the back of my hand to wipe my nose. With each blink more tears threatened to fall.

Sean reached for me. He pulled me into a hug. Enveloped in his arms I felt the dam break. My body shook with sobs I could no longer control. His hands ran up and down my back. He rested his chin on the top of my head.

"I never did anything...to anyone! I'm a nice person!" I cried into his chest. Tears clung to my lashes. The fabric of his shirt was wet from my outburst. My cheek chafed against it. I pulled away, wiping at my tears furiously.

Sean gently tipped my head back. This kiss was softer. Just a simple peck. I felt a second wave of tears coming up.

"I'm a mess." I broke the kiss. I didn't pull out of his embrace though.

"You're fine." He brushed one of my fly away hairs out of my face.

"I'm not fine. I'm hung over. I feel filthy. I'm in tweed. Tweed!"

His brown eyes took me in. "It's not your best look."

The next kiss was more passionate. Heat rushed through my body. I broke away when I felt my hands itching to remove my jacket. When I wanted to shed clothing it had gone on too long.

"No," I said. "No, no. No white knights." He raised an eyebrow. "You, riding in on your white horse. Rescuing me. Stuff."

"You hit Jessica in the head with a bat. If I wasn't there you'd probably have hit her again and again until her super human strength was useless."

"Angie said you wanted to hump my leg."

He didn't respond right away. "A fact I deny as your boss." It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. He pulled me closer. The space between us went from about six inches to nanometers. His lips brushed my forehead.

"I'll be fired." I whispered. But really, what did I care? What had the BSB done for me in this fiasco?

Sean's hands moved up under the tweed. I titled my head up. His breath warm on my face. So close.

"Hey! Are you guys dead?" Bridget shouted from outside the door.

I forgot the O'Malley girls were in the car. I disentangled myself from Sean. I didn't want to though. He opened the door. Both women invaded. Jenna sniffed the air, and then looked at us.

"I'd like to take a quick shower," I said quietly.

Bridget snapped her fingers and made a pistol gesture. "I'll just order a pizza. Is that cool with you, Mr. Benson?"

"I'll spring for any pizza that doesn't have vegetables."

I headed down the hall, listening to them talk about toppings. I wanted to continue what I started with Sean. I wasn't convinced that he didn't have a white knight thing, but I didn't care right now.
Twelve

I wrapped a towel around my wet hair. I was feeling better having washed the grime off my body. I dressed quickly in running shorts and a Bears jersey. When I emerged from the bathroom Bridget sat alone watching TV.

She clicked through the channels so fast I barely caught anything she was watching. Seeing me she switched off the TV.

"Where'd Jenna and Sean go?"

"Wouldn't you know I ordered pizza from a place that was too far away to deliver." I caught another mischievous glint in her eye. She winked. "I don't think he trusted me to be alone with you. Or maybe he wanted you to himself?"

I flushed under her ice blue eyes. I wasn't sure yet if I trusted her with that yet. I plopped down on the couch next to her. She smelled like stale cigarettes and cucumber melon. She'd had a smoke recently and tried to cover it up with body spray.

"He also took Jenna back to her car. I asked them to stop at the bar and get your baseball bat. You left it when you rushed out for that meeting. I took it to a priest for a blessing."

"Pardon?"

"It's made of metal, not wood, so I can't spell it, but holy water and a blessing ought to make any vampires think twice."

I nodded. Vampire repellent, blessed bat. Bridget seemed like she could be a friend, but I couldn't be sure. I didn't really trust Angie and they were friends.

I decided to test the waters. "So, you're Angie's friend?"

Bridget snorted. She turned her head side to side until her neck cracked. It was loud and probably felt pretty good. "I owe Angie some pretty big favors. Whenever she presents the opportunity to pay one back, I jump at it. Most of her favors are running errands during daylight hours. She's never asked me to protect anyone before." Bridget cracked her back, then her knuckles. On the inside of her wrist I caught sight of a large, raised, white mark. Like a burn that had never healed properly. I stared at it.

She sat on her hands when her knuckles were sufficiently cracked. I don't think she liked my staring at her scar.

"Thank you."

"Eh, I'm no fan of vampires. And I've had a run-in with that Simon douche before. His conquests have hurt a lot of people before." Her eyes no longer focused on me. They looked somewhere behind me, somewhere in days past. The distance lasted only a few seconds. She blinked away the memory. "You just call me if you need anything. I don't have an extra room at my place, but you can crash on the couch if you need to. Hell," she bounced herself on the couch. I rocked slightly with her movements. "I wouldn't mind crashing here. Except what is with all this fur?"

I took the vacuum to the couch several times. I could not get rid of the wolf hair Sean left behind.

"Sean changed back from a wolf here."

She nodded. "So you and him...?"

"What? No. He's my boss. That behavior is a fireable offense."

"Yeah, you were pretty steamed about that last night. You kept drunkenly complaining that the BSB wouldn't let you ask out who you wanted. I assumed you had the hots for some Other, but not an Other who was your boss."

"Well, they frown on us dating Others. They can't forbid it, but we get warned about it. They don't want any 'accidents' for humans at the BSB. No one accidentally turning into a vampire or something. But inter-office dating is a no-no."

"Bummer. For an overprotective Were that dude seems alright."

"Uh, did I say anything else while drunk?"

"You did say that if Christ cried in the desert His tears were dried up by now." I cringed. I'm sure Angie didn't want that little bit of information out. "I know all about Angie's little theft. I for one think she and Simon have their hands on a trinket from the Renaissance Fair." It looked like her eyes might just roll back into her head. "Idiots." She murmured.

I thought back to Angie's "little theft" as Bridget called it. It wasn't like she intentionally put me in harm's way, but I was furious with her all the same. My hands itched for something to do.

"You like brownies?" I asked. Bridget looked at me like I was insane, like there were people in the world who didn't like brownies.

I set to work mixing up some brownies while Bridget talked. She wasn't even talking about anything. She just talked and joked, lightening my mood with her chatter. She handed me ingredients as I worked, never stopping her stream of words. Sean came back, sans Jenna, finding me making baked goods and Bridget talking.

The smell of a deep dish sausage pizza overpowered every other smell in the kitchen. It was enough to bring Chris out of his coma. Sean put the pizza box down on the table along with two bags of pop. Root beer and diet cola.

Bridget moved around me to retrieve plates and cups.

"Chris, this is my friend. Bridget, this is my roommate." The two shook hands first. Then they went after the pizza. I abandoned the cookie dough for the moment to grab a piece myself. I took some forks and knives from the drawer. I didn't know about Sean and Bridget, but I didn't like manhandling slices of deep dish. Less mess with a fork and knife.

"Your sister is stopping by the bar to get something for you," Sean said. He picked up a slice and plopped it on a plate. He handed it to me.

Bridget took her piece and went to enjoy it on the couch. Chris joined her, turning on the TV. I sat at the table, more pizza within easy grasp. Sean sat with me.

I felt like I was in a nice, little bubble. The sun was out on this warm Saturday afternoon. I was surrounded by friends. The only thing missing was Sasha lying on my feet under the table. I listened to the sounds of the baseball game coverage and snatches of Chris and Bridget's conversation. I could hear little finches outside tweeting away. Everything was at peace.

~*~*~

I woke up alone in my bedroom. The sun had set and my room was filled with darkness. The little, red numbers on my clock told me it was ten pm. Something cold under the covers touched my leg. Feeling it up I realized someone had tucked the blessed bat into bed with me. I didn't remember when I feel asleep. I remembered being on the couch, watching a truly terrible 1960s sci-fi movie with everyone. I vaguely remember Sean carrying me to my room. The rest was a blank.

I struggled against the tiredness in my limbs. I missed my Sasha. There was a certain comfort I felt with her around. I had tomorrow off. I'd go to my parents' house and play with her. I'd score a free meal while I was at it.

Rolling myself over, I flicked on my bedside lamp. I didn't even have time to scream. A smooth hand pressed against my mouth. It was cold. Not the cold of a hand with insufficient gloves on a winter day. No, this was the cold of the living dead.

Inside my chest my heart beat so fast I thought I was going to have a heart attack. The vampire held me down while I lay there, completely frozen in fear.

He stood over my bed. He was of medium height, probably even shorter than I was. He had a mature face, but I wouldn't place him as old. Maybe in his mid to late-twenties when he turned, but his eyes and face showed wisdom. Centuries' old wisdom, like Angie carried. There was a Mediterranean look to him. He had flawless, olive colored skin, soft dark curls, a larger than average, hooked nose. He was well muscled. Even if he didn't have vampire strength he could crush me. He smiled. It never reached his eyes. His teeth weren't retracted. God, I hoped Bridget's repellent worked and his mouth turned to ash.

"Your neighbors let me in." When entering from the street there was a short hallway. Straight ahead was the door to Chris and my place. Up the stairs led to our neighbors'. But we shared a common threshold. This vampire had been invited in. My home was no longer safe.

The hand released my mouth. All the air I didn't realize I had been holding in escaped in a choked breath. I pulled the covers up around me. With my left hand I held them in place. With my right I wrapped my fingers around the bat.

"Simon," I said quietly.

"So Agacia has told you about me." That name. "Or however she calls herself these days." He sounded disgusted. "She seems to tell you a lot of things."

"I know what you're looking for. I don't have it. Leave me alone."

"No. Agacia would never let you hold it. Inferior beings can't know power such as that. But you have her file. You can find her."

Angie said he would use the people she took blood from to find her. All for some stupid vampiric relic that probably was a fake. He singled me out because I was her case worker. Anyone at the BSB could access her address and phone number. Only I had her notaries with donors' names. This fucking bully.

I narrowed my eyes. "She seems to think you're very powerful, but you can't even find where she keeps her coffin. She'd hiding in the open for God's sake. You need to pick on the weak. Some demigod you are. You send Jessica after me! To do your dirty work!"

Simon grabbed my chin. I knew this move. He was going to try to spell me through the eyes like Jessica. "We're going to the BSB office now." The words were like honey. Oozing over me, sweetening everything.

Not this time. "No." I swung the bat out from under the covers.

He moved fast enough to grab it before I hit his face. He recoiled in fear the second his skin made contact. The stench of his burnt hand filled my nostrils. I gagged at the smell, but didn't stop myself from pressing the bat's tip into his neck.

He screamed. The sound could wake the dead. I hoped my stupid neighbors called the police. It was the least they could do after letting him into the hallway.

Simon yanked the bat out of my hand and threw it. It crashed into my dresser mirror. Shards of glass flew onto the floor and top of the dresser. He lunged at me, but the bat's effects made him slower. I was able to twist out of the way. I dropped to the floor. Purse.

Where the hell had I thrown my purse? I had to find the stake. Knowing me it was in the kitchen. Always as far away as possible to be of no use. I wrapped my hand around a bigger piece of glass. I felt a slow trickle of blood.

Simon grabbed my ankle. He pulled me toward him with such force I thought he'd rip my leg off. I did my best to aim the glass at him. Blood obscured my reflection in it, but I could see I'd gone white with fear. I drew the shard across his hand. He let me go, recoiling from the touch of my blood. A small bit of ash formed where my blood touched his hand. Bridget was the greatest witch I knew. I'd kiss her full on the mouth if I survived.

"Dunmore!" My eyes flicked to the window. Angie was outside. The window was open, the screen removed. That's how he got in. Once he had an invitation over the threshold he'd pried my window open. "Dunmore, let me in!" Angie cried from outside.

"Come in, dear God you are welcome to come into this house!" I screamed back as Simon hit me from behind.

He landed his punch between my shoulder blades. I went down like a sack of potatoes, gasping for air. Angie crawled in the window and launched herself at him. I felt her shadow pass over me. The sounds of wood cracking forced me to roll over onto my bed. My nightstand wobbled uncertainly as the vampires lifted themselves off it.

I found my bat again, picking it up, and getting to my feet. Angie circled Simon, her teeth bared. She kept low to the ground. Simon stood firmly on my bed. My presence was completely ignored. The two snarled and hissed like cats. Angie lunged again, hitting Simon in the knees. Again they landed on my nightstand. It cracked again and this time gave out under the pressure.

It clattered to the ground. Angie pinned Simon on top of the broken plywood. She brought down angry fists on to his face. He struggled under her. He wasn't a big man or anything, but Angie was a tiny woman. His vampire strength had to at least match hers. However, he was unable to get a hold of her hands. Finally he got his feet under her body and firmly kicked her upwards.

Angie tumbled over the bed and into me with such force I got knocked off balance. Angie must have been full of bricks. How can she weigh this much? I couldn't recover from the impact, but Angie sprung up quickly. The two fell back into fighting.

I grabbed my bat again. Time to clear out. My room was being trashed, but that didn't mean I needed to suffer any broken bones. I ran into the kitchen. I picked up my purse looking for my stake and phone. Someone banged on the door. My heart raced. What if my neighbors had given permission to the Kleins to come in? I raised the bat, terrified they'd break in any second.

I heard a man scream in Polish. Then a shrill woman responded. I didn't know anything beyond hello in Polish, but I knew an argument. Whatever. I didn't care. My idiot neighbors were trying to help me. I pulled the door open and the Wienceks tumbled in. He was dressed in pre-ripped jeans and black polo. She had on a little black dress with a visible garter belt underneath.

A gun was tucked into the waistband of Mr. Wiencek's jeans. "Are you alright?"

My hand was cut open, dripping blood on to the floor. My hair fell into my face in a tangled mess. I sweated through my clothes. I wasn't alright.

"Did you let in a vampire?" I didn't want to scream at them, but I felt a scream brewing inside.

"He said he was leaving you an invitation." Mrs. Wiencek peeled something off my door. It was an envelope written in calligraphy. It had "Ms. Samantha Dunmore" written in beautiful gold lettering. "I watched him tape it to the door and I made sure he left." She wrung her hands nervously.

"Well, he's in my bedroom. He crawled through the window after being given permission to enter." I felt my eyes narrow at her. I covered my face.

"We called the police." Mr. Wiencek drew his gun.

"He's in the bedroom fighting with another vampire. Don't go back there." I grabbed his arm when he tried to get passed me.

We heard the sounds of a struggle from the back. I was glad Chris worked on Saturday nights. I didn't want him in the same danger I was in. I pushed the Wienceks out into the little foyer and slammed the door behind us. We'd wait outside for the police.

I called Balicki and Hill. A minute or two passed before I heard the sirens. Moments after the sirens came into ear shot I could see the red and flashing lights.

Two squads pulled in front of the two-flat. Balicki and Hill were on their way. Like Hill promised they were patrolling the area. I couldn't help thinking they were doing a crappy job at it.

Two cops went in by the front door and two circled around back. Nothing happened for a few minutes. No shouts of "freeze, police!" or "hands up!" A knot formed in my stomach. Simon got away.

While the police searched the area Balicki and Hill pulled up in a black, Buick century. BSB issued.

The Wienceks were up immediately, telling them what had happened. I stayed seated on the front steps. Hill disengaged himself from the swirl of explanations from the Wienceks. "Care to explain what happened?"

I told him about Simon getting into my room. I highlighted the blessed bat, but neglected to mention the vampire repellent. I didn't know how legal it was for Bridget to be making something like that. I talked away Angie by saying a second vampire had appeared at the window itching for a fight with Simon.

"And you think this is the one who turned your other assailant?"

"He mentioned Jessica." He hadn't. I had mentioned her, but he hadn't denied sending her. That counted as an admission, right?

Two of the cops came back around to confer with their BSB counterparts. "All the damage is in the back bedroom. The screen was ripped off, but the glass isn't broken. We're getting the window nailed down so no one can force the window open." Like I was going to stay there.

~*~*~

I spent the next few hours giving my statement and answering the same questions over and over. No one found any trance of Simon or Angie. With Hill and Balicki as my escorts I packed a duffel bag full of clothes. I took some jeans, a suit, a few blouses, and two pairs of shoes. I slipped on some socks and my running shoes. I grabbed my leather jacket, pulling it on over my jersey. I was going to my parents'. No vampire would get an invitation into that house under false pretenses.

Balicki and Hill followed me all the way to Naperville. By the time I pulled into my parents' driveway it was almost two am. I waved at the BSB agents when I was safely over the threshold of the house.

An excited Sasha greeted me. I dropped my bag and scooped her up. I pulled my phone out of my purse.

Chris picked up on third ring. "Hey. You just getting up?"

"Not exactly. When you get home there's going to be some police tape over my bedroom door."

"Uh..."

"I'm at my parents'."

"I'm glad you're safe, but I was on my way home. Are you saying I'm not safe to go there?"

"The police are watching the place. And I've vacated the premises. You should be fine."

A long sigh came through the ear piece. "I'm slightly more worried about you."

"I'll be fine." Eventually. "I'll talk to you later."

I disconnected without listening to anything else he may want to say. I didn't feel like sleeping. Not after my rude awakening. To feel safer I pulled the stake out of my purse and tucked it into my waistband. I turned on the TV to watch whatever horrible movie was showing this late. I settled down on the couch. Sasha jumped into my lap, glad of my presence. I was equally glad of hers.

We'd barely gotten into a Godzilla movie when Sasha stood up in my lap. Her hackles were up and she emitted a low growl. I muted the TV to listen.

At first I didn't hear anything. But Sasha's growl continued. Then I heard a light tap on one of our windows. I got off the couch to investigate. I pulled the stake from my waistband, poising it for attack.

I circled the bottom floor of the house. Sasha kept her watchful position on the couch, her entire body alert. I went room by room. First the kitchen. Nothing out the windows. Then the dining room. Status quo. Nothing weird in the bathroom, except my mom's taste in magazines. Back in the living room everything was as I left it. If Sasha wasn't so alert I'd think I imagined the whole thing.

I went to the big picture window that faced the street. I surveyed the bushes. Nothing. I turned back to Sasha. Her ears were flat against her head. She barked once. I turned back around to see Simon staring at me through the window.

I stumbled backwards, landing flat on my butt. His wounds had healed, including the burn marks from my holy water infused blood and the blessed bat. He'd fed since I last saw him. A thought that made me shiver. Sasha jumped off the couch. She was a streak of tan and white, barking incessantly at the window. Simon made a motion for quiet with a finger to his lips. I could hear footsteps above us. I opened my mouth to call for help, but Simon pulled a very ragged looking Bridget into my view. Her eyes were wide in the dark. The moon's light illuminated her fear. My dad would come down and his presence could mean bad things for Bridget.

"It's just me!" I cried loud enough that Simon nodded his approval.

"Samantha?" My dad called down the stairs. The upstairs hall light flicked on.

"Go back to bed. I just came to see Sasha." I grabbed Sasha by the scruff of her neck. "Shh!" She whimpered and nervously licked her chops.

I heard some unintelligible curses from upstairs. At least the light when out. I heard his footsteps go back into his room.

Outside the window Simon crooked a finger at me. I showed him the stake. And I showed him my gauzed up hand, reminding him I had more weapons at my disposal, ones not so easily stripped away.

I pulled myself up and went outside. I left my bat inside. If Simon wanted to attack he'd have broken my neck the second I came outside. Jessica and Melvin lurked around the Rav. Simon had a firm hold on Bridget.

"Caught her taking out the trash. Agacia has some confidence in you two. And don't lie and say Samantha is your caseworker," he said, giving Bridget a shake.

Jessica moved closer to me. I raised my stake. She just laughed. Her teeth shone brightly. She was on the hunt, ready for my blood. I didn't move. My blood had burned Simon. Let her try to take it.

"Jessica," he said. "The witch spelled her. Her blood is tainted. They're both tainted."

Jessica looked at me. I stuck my tongue out.

"Very mature," Simon quipped. "If you give me Agacia's file this will be all over." Except for me. Who would soon suffer a case of the deads by Angie's hands.

"Let Bridget go," I hissed.

"No. You hold something I want. I hold something you want."

"I'm not a something!" Bridget clawed at Simon. He bear hugged her, pinning her arms to her sides. He could break her in two if he applied enough pressure.

Jessica and Melvin flanked me. Jessica looked angry. Melvin looked miserable. I saw a bruise on his cheek coupled with a long gash. They'd hurt him into joining and denied him blood to heal his wounds. I felt bad for him. He didn't want to be part of this anymore than I did.

"You'll hurt the people Angie takes blood from."

"If they're as withholding as you with information, then yes." Simon held tighter to Bridget. Her face turned red under the pressure.

"What if they don't know anything? You'll just keep killing? Suck them dry and leave them in dumpsters? Like Angie's old case worker in Boston?"

"I want what's mine." Bridget's mouth flopped open, like a fish out of water.

"I'll get it for you. I'll find the Tears, but you can't hurt anyone else." Simon eased his grip on Bridget. She breathed in a few deep breaths. "And you have to release Bridget into my care."

"How do I know you'll keep your word?" How did I know he'd keep his word?

There was no collateral I could give to Simon. I wasn't about to let him hold Sasha or my parents. Not for Angie. I didn't know Bridget well, but the fear plastered her face was enough to know not to leave her. I remembered the look she got when she said he hurt people.

"Give me the witch and we'll have a deal," Simon said.

Bridget furiously shook her head. "No. I'm not giving you a living creature as collateral."

"Then," he put Bridget in his death grip again.

Behind me Melvin shifted. "Can't we just take her word?"

I heard skin make contact with skin. I didn't want to turn around and see what Jessica had done to her brother. I'd been hit twice by vampires. It wasn't a pleasant experience.

"You must want something else from me. Some show of good faith." I could tell he wanted something living for good faith.

"Take my familiar," Bridget croaked. She wheezed as she breathed.

"Are you serious?" I whispered. The vampires could hear me so I'm not sure why I thought being quieter was a good idea.

She nodded. "He's back at the bar. He's a chinchilla."

"Simon," Jessica scoffed. "They're wasting our time. Take the witch back; she's worth more than an overgrown rat."

"Shut up! Don't you know anything? A witch giving up her familiar is very serious." Simon pushed Bridget to the ground. He gave her one shot to the ribs with his foot. He tried for a second, but I jumped forward and brandished my stake at him until he backed up a few paces.

I helped Bridget straighten. I kept an arm around her waist. She looked unsteady on her feet.

"I'll take you to the bar and hand him over. But I want to ride with Samantha. I won't trust you if I can't go with my friend." Bridget took a few ragged breaths.

"Jessica, ride with the ladies. We'll meet you back at Sláinte." He snapped his fingers. Melvin hurried to him.

Jessica grabbed hold of Bridget. Her eyes locked on me, daring me to get into the house with my friend and lock them out.

"Let me get my keys." I tucked the stake back into my shorts.

I went back into the house. I wasn't going to stay here. Not on the off chance Simon backed out of the deal and came after my parents.

I kissed Sasha and grabbed my duffel bag. I picked up my bat, took a deep breath, and went back outside. Jessica had Bridget in a tight grip next to the Rav. Parked in front of the neighbors' house was a white Ford Escape. Melvin was in the driver's seat. Simon stood outside, passenger door open. He waited to make sure we were actually going to the bar.

Jessica looked at the bat. Did she know it was blessed? Or did she just remember my attempt at braining her with it? Either way she looked unhappy to see it.

I ignored her and jammed my key into the driver's side door. I got in, throwing the bat into the back seat. I leaned across the passenger side seat to unlock it for Jessica. She flung the door open, reaching around her seat to get the back door unlocked. She shoved Bridget into the car. I could drive away now. Jessica wasn't in yet. I could drive us to holy ground or something.

I caught Bridget's eyes in the rearview mirror. She gently shook her head. God knows who they'd take their anger out on. I put the key into the ignition and waited for everyone to buckle their seatbelts. Putting the car into reverse, I backed out of my parents' driveway, leading our weird procession back to Bridget's bar.
Thirteen

Bridget waltzed into the bar. All the lights were on and the door unlocked. No one else was around. Simon said he snagged her taking out the trash. David had probably gone home for the night. Simon had a firm hand on Bridget's back as we all walked through the bar. I was sandwiched between Jessica and Melvin. Jessica's fingers dug into my upper arm. I wanted to unwrap my wounded hand and grab hold of her with my "tainted" blood. I bit my lip.

Bridget and Simon went into the office, emerging moments later. A white chinchilla was in the wire cage I had seen in the office earlier. Its little black eyes took in everything. Looking pained Bridget handed the cage to Simon.

"Collateral," she mumbled softly.

Simon shook her hand first. Then mine, sealing our agreement. "I will give you until Monday night. Bring me the Tears or bring me the file. If you don't, I will start with your familiar and work my way up the food chain." He breezed past us. Jessica and Melvin fell in behind him.

I waited until I heard their car drive away before turning my attention to Bridget. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Oh please. I have a spell on my Fernando. We can track him during daylight hours and steal him back. We just need to cover our scents. And what about you? Promising the Tears? Angie's gonna rip your heart out." A pregnant pause invaded the bar. "But thanks. It got them to leave at least."

I pulled up a stool and sat at the bar. Bridget circled around to stand behind it. She looked natural there, at ease.

"Do you know where the Tears would be?" I asked.

"Ha, not a clue." She grabbed a bottle from under the bar. It was the vampire repellant. She poured some into two tumblers, pushing one my way. "The effects don't last very long. I drink it every day." I sucked it down. I wanted my blood as toxic to Simon as possible.

The air got cold. I looked at Bridget. She had sensed the shift as well. Something wicked this way comes.

Angie was a blur of motion, knocking me clear off the stool. I pulled the stake from my waistband and held it feebly against her. Her eyes were black with fury. From under the bar Bridget produced a Smith and Wesson pistol. She pointed it at Angie.

"Leave her alone!" She cocked it. "I had all my bullets blessed."

Angie turned her fury toward Bridget. "You sold me out!"

"I saved Bridget!" She knew about the deal. She had been watching. She could have done something. "You were going to leave her to die in their hands!"

Angie swung around. In normal circumstances I'd never have stopped the punch. Against a vampire I was less than useless. I doubled over, clutching a hand to my cheek.

"You're lucky I showed restraint!" She snapped. That was true. All the bones in my face would be broken otherwise.

Bridget didn't lower the pistol. "Hey! She's right! You left us out there to founder."

"We're tracking the familiar tomorrow," I said. I held my cheek. I was really tired of these attacks. "And like I'm going to give something to that guy that'll make him unstoppable." I'd honestly have said anything to free Bridget from his grasp. "But your promise to protect me was pretty useless."

"I was going to intervene, but you seemed to have everything in check. At least until you offered him the Tears!" Angie collected herself. "You rescue Fernando and then what?" Bridget looked to me like I had much of a plan going.

"Destroy your file." I could look all across the city and suburbs for the Tears. I didn't know where to start looking and even if I found them I wasn't handing them over.

"You'll actual destroy it?" Her interest was piqued.

"If you help us." I probably shouldn't be making anymore deals with Others, but I was desperate. "Simon is not just going after your blood donors anymore. My roommate, Bridget's sister, our families, David, Sean, they're all caught up in a mess you started." My blood boiled through my veins. I didn't apply at the BSB to be beat on because a client had sticky fingers. "I want Simon off our case."

"I can bring you something that'll make Simon think he has the Tears."

"You said if they didn't work he'd fly into a rage."

"Give him what I tell you and I'll handle the rest. In the meantime," she dug into her pocket. She produced a single key. "I have a house in the area. I don't use if often, but you'll both be safe there." She crossed to the bar in search of a pen and paper. "If you decide to rescue your familiar tomorrow stay in hiding during the night. I need Simon stalled until the agreed upon Monday night meeting."

Damn her. I really wished she'd intervened sooner. She wrote out her address on a napkin. I knew the area. Lots of one story houses built in the 1960s made of brick, with little backyards, one car garages, and alleys around back.

"Take the bus. Simon and his cronies know your Rav."

I had been thinking I should just park it here anyway. Angie nodded to both of us and took her leave. Bridget finally lowered the pistol. Outside we heard Angie tear away on her motorcycle.

"I'm starving," Bridget said. "How about you?"

~*~*~

We stayed awake trying to figure what we should be doing next. Bridget ordered Chinese takeout. She had a scrying mirror out, waiting for the sun to come up. The mirror was pewter handled with vines and roses crafted on the handle. I couldn't see Bridget buying something like this. It must have been an heirloom.

"I figure they'll be moving around until sunrise." she tapped the glass nervously.

I felt terrible. I wouldn't have handed over Sasha, but she had given up Fernando without hesitation. Bridget looked miserable. She lit up a cigarette, taking care to blow the smoke away from our food and my face.

I leaned forward to grab an eggroll. I caught my reflection in her little hand mirror. My face was all red where Angie had hit me. This was just a new addition to my ever growing collection of bruises. One nasty purple one on my chest, one forming on my back, and now a shiner on my eye. I sighed and put the mirror face down.

"I'm sorry about Fernando."

Bridget turned her head and blew out a smoke ring. It floated over the table behind her. It dissipated slowly. "Don't worry about it." She looked at the back of the mirror. "I've haven't scried much, so you know." She snuffed her cigarette into the lid of the now empty sweet and sour container. She smiled. The mischievous glimmer in her eyes was gone. "Can we get into the BSB office on a Sunday to get Angie's file?"

"Not without a key."

"Um...could we like, break a window?"

"If you want the BSB and the police to swarm all over us." I chewed the eggroll.

"Would your general manager let us in if we fed him a convincing lie?"

I thought about Carl. He thought I was an incompetent boob. Calling him would be a bad idea. There was someone else I knew with a key. Though, I didn't think I'd be getting that key anytime soon. I wasn't the best liar in the world either.

"Sean has a key."

"He's sweet on you. Can we use your feminine wiles to get the keys?"

Letting him in on the plan of breaking into the BSB would put his job in jeopardy. I doubted my wiles would get us very far. Still, if we were going to destroy Angie's file we needed to get in there today when no one was around. If I tried to hide it with auditors everywhere I'd fall under more scrutiny.

"I don't think he's going to let us in."

"Do you think he'd give us a ride to find Fernando?"

"Yeah, that he might do."

Bridget nodded. She picked up a plastic fork and speared a piece of General Tso's chicken. "We'll take the bus to my house and give him a call after I scry for Fernando."

It seemed like a solid plan. I didn't look forward to having Sean see my newest bruise. His white knight complex would probably go into overdrive. However, he was the only person with a car I knew well enough to ask for a ride so we could leave the Rav at the bar.

Chris would drive us, but I didn't want to drag him into this. It was bad enough my mess had trashed half our place. I didn't know Jenna or David well enough to want to ask them. Since Bridget put them forward I didn't think she wanted to involve them. That left Sean. He'd already fought off Jessica for me. Why not ask him once more for help?

~*~*~

Bridget lived in a two story townhouse in Niles off Oakton. It was white paneled with a brick face on the first floor front. Jenna's Mustang was in the driveway. All the shades were drawn when Bridget and I came in.

Bridget flipped on the kitchen light instead of opening the blinds to let in the light of sunrise. It was a pleasant kitchen, one that was little used I guessed. The counter tops were pristine, black and white marble. The floors were white tile. I envied the beautiful new, stainless steel oven and refrigerator. I imagined all the wonderful things I could cook in this kitchen. Nothing showed much use except the food splattered microwave door and the coffee stained coffee pot. There was a black folding card table and four matching chairs that didn't match the beauty of the kitchen.

"Do you have any flour?" Bridget looked at me quizzically. "I must use this kitchen. I want to make pancakes."

Bridget crossed to the cabinet and pulled out some salt. There wasn't much else. A few boxes of cereal, canned sauce, dry pasta, packets of ramen. It looked like my dorm room pantry.

"If Sean drives us we can make a stop at the store." She put the salt and the mirror on the folding card table set up against the wall across from the stove. "It's going to take me a while to figure this out. Like I said, I've never really been good at this. Last time I tried it took me two hours to get a fuzzy image of a pear."

"What were you looking for?"

"My grandma's garden. I think I scried her kitchen instead. Make yourself at home."

I dropped my duffel bag and bat in the foyer. I was tired, but didn't want to fall asleep just yet. I set about stretching out for a run. The plan was to work some of the tired from my limbs.

"I think I'll just run a little bit." I pulled my hair into a ponytail, using a tie I always kept in my purse.

"There's a park up the block. It has some decent paths."

The morning was a little chilly. The morning sky dawned grayish pink. I could see the sun, but I could also see clouds. The day would prove to be overcast. That was fine. It would make for a pleasant run.

I mulled over the plan. I didn't know how I'd convince Sean to give me his keys. I ran along thinking up lies I could feed him. None jumped out at me as good. He'd never believe me if I said I'd forgotten something important, like my purse. I also couldn't say I had an emergency meeting with a client. He knew Balicki and Hill had forbidden me going out to see clients while Jessica was at large.

I picked up my pace. The harder I pushed, the less tired I felt. Maybe we could pick pocket him and steal the Range Rover. I could seduce him, but that felt weird to even think about. Bridget could seduce him, but I didn't think he swung toward witches.

My legs pumped onward even as my breathing became labored. I had to get into the BSB building. If I waited until tomorrow my chances of getting caught were greater. I thought about Simon. He was a bully. A dangerous bully. I didn't want him to hurt Fernando, Bridget, or myself. I didn't even want him to get his hands on Angie. Not after I saw him manhandling Bridget last night.

I stopped my run suddenly. I bent over, hands on my knees. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. My breath fought to get out of my chest, but I had trouble getting any air in my lungs. My legs buckled under me. I crashed to the ground, putting my head between my knees. I'd never had an anxiety attack before. I could safely say I didn't like it.

Early morning sounds were muted in my ears. I heard only my heart pounding. Someone laid on their horn. My head pulled up. The black spots slowly cleared up. I had gone down on the sidewalk a few feet from a driveway. A maroon Grand Am ran in the driveway. A middle aged man was behind the wheel. The woman in the passenger seat hung out the window. They were dressed in church going clothes.

"Are you ok?" The woman called.

I slowly got to my feet, dusting off my butt. "Crippling vertigo. I'm fine now." I sprinted in front of their car before they could ask any more questions.

I burst through the front door at Bridget's. From the kitchen Bridget leaned into view. On shaky legs I went to join her.

"How's it going?" I said first. I didn't want to explain my panic attack.

"Well, I've got something. I see Fernando, but I'm not sure what I'm looking at."

She moved aside so I could see what was going on in her mirror. She had a little white candle burning in a pewter candlestick holder. It was the same craftsmanship as the mirror. There was some water in a coffee mug next to the candle. I knew a little about scrying. In order to find Fernando in the mirror the chinchilla would need to be near a reflective surface. If I had to guess I'd say the reflective surface she found was a toaster.

Plywood furniture, drab setting, beat-up leather couch. "I've been there before." Bridget looked up at me. "That's Jessica's apartment."

Bridget smiled triumphantly. "Can you call Sean? We've got a rescue mission!"

~*~*~

Bridget was in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee. She'd changed into jeans and a black zip up hoodie. She swore she'd be able to get the key from Sean. I didn't even want to ask.

I used Bridget's bedroom to change after convincing Sean to come over. She had a queen size mattress and box spring without a frame. It just lay on the floor. She had a trunk, much like the one in the bar, which was open. Casual clothes like jeans and t-shirts spilled out of it. She had a bookshelf that came up to about my waist. Most of her books were autobiographies of sports and music stars. Though she did have a white, leather bible, and a large, black leather book with Latin inscribed along the binding. It was old and worn, probably a spell book.

I changed from my shorts and underwear first. I found a clean pair of underwear and shimmied into them. I pulled my jeans on next, straight legged so I could tuck them into my boots. I sat on the floor and slipped my knee high, riding boots over my jeans. I zipped the boots up. I felt more confident when I wore them. I looked damn good in them in whatever I wore them with.

I pulled my hair out of the ponytail, and then pulled my jersey off. I removed my sports bra and rifled through my bag to put on a clean bra. I slipped a plain white t-shirt over it. My black leather jacket topped off the ensemble. I grabbed my brush and purse and went into the bathroom to check how I looked.

My hair curled a little, but a few brush strokes tamed my fly aways. The spot Angie had punched was already changing colors from red to purple. At least it wasn't swollen shut. From my purse my phone rang. I swayed my hips a little to David Bowie's "Golden Years".

I grabbed my phone. My mom's number flashed across the screen. She was probably headed to church. She'd want an explanation of my middle of the night visit, and then she could more effectively pray for me.

"Hi, Mom."

"I thought you'd stay the night. Sasha misses you." I heard the sound of dishes being put into the sink. She hadn't left for church yet.

"I was up late helping a friend at her bar. I was wide awake and thought I'd just come out for an hour or so to see Sasha. I had plans this morning, so I didn't want to stay."

"Oh well. Next time then. How's that little issue with your client?"

My dad would never keep something like that from my mom. It was a good thing I didn't give details. "It's being worked on. The BSB is investigating."

"Well, if you make a big enough fuss they'll move the paperwork faster."

Downstairs the doorbell rang. "I need to go, Mom. My friend is here."

"Everything will work out, sweetie. Have a fun day."

Ha. That's a laugh. I hung up on my mom and went downstairs. Bridget poured coffee into three mugs. Sean had his back to me when I came into the kitchen. I braced myself for his reaction to my face.

"Thank you for helping us get her familiar back," I said to get his attention.

"It's not a huge deal, but did you report the attack on Bridget to-" he stopped short when he saw my face.

My outfit was meant to give me confidence. Sean's mouth opened, deer in a headlights style, and his stunned look drained all my confidence away. I dropped my eyes to focus on my boots.

"It's not what you think," Bridget said quickly. "Angie punched her in the face."

"Oh yeah, that's so much better." Sean lifted my chin. His eyes took in the shiner. "Care to explain further?"

"Not really." I pulled my chin from his hands.

When I first called him I told him about the attack at my place the night before and us needing to rescue Fernando. The attack on my home was enough to get him to agree to play chauffeur.

I took the offered coffee cup from Bridget. Sean did the same. He took a big gulp. I was shocked his body could take the heat. Bridget watched him drink a little too intently.

"Angie was pretty mad. We kind of made a fake deal with Simon for the Tears of Christ." Bridget cracked her knuckles.

Sean's face blanched. "You did what?"

"Only to get him to leave Bridget alone." I jumped in. "We gave him her familiar as collateral. We have a safe house for the night. Angie's going to help us catch Simon." I thought. She just said she'd handle it. Sean didn't need to know that.

"You need to go to the BSB with this. You're both insane if you think stealing your familiar back is a good idea. You..." he put a hand to his head. "You...you..."

Sean's eyelids drooped. His body swayed. He started to fall forward. "Trust Exercise!" Bridget screamed.

Sean fell forward. He didn't have to worry about chipping any teeth on the floor because I broke his fall. All his weight pinned me to the floor.

"Get him off me!" I shrieked. "You killed him!"

From upstairs hurried feet ran from a bedroom to the stairs.

"I spelled his coffee. He'll sleep until I take it off."

Jenna bounded into the kitchen. She wore pink bikini underwear and a blue chemise. My shriek had dragged her out of sleep. Her red hair flew all over the place, her eyes barely open. "What's going on down here?"

"We're stealing his car. Help me roll him off Samantha."

Jenna blinked. "Why?!"

Sean snored. His head was on my shoulder. I could barely breathe. I tried to push him off. Jenna scoffed and hooked her hands under Sean's armpits. Bridget grabbed his feet. I pushed up on him. We managed to get him off me, but moving him somewhere other than the kitchen floor wasn't going to happen.

"I'm going back to bed." Jenna grumbled and went back upstairs.

"Get his keys," Bridget instructed. "We'll go to the BSB first. Then we'll go to Jessica's apartment."

Fourteen

The parking lot at the BSB was deserted. I knew better than to complain. "Maybe we should park somewhere else," Bridget commented. I couldn't agree more. It was good no one was at the office, but that also meant Sean's Range Rover would stick out.

We sat at a stop sign. Going straight would take us into the parking lot. Left took us to street parking in front of some apartment complexes. Right took us to parking lots for the other office buildings in the area. All equally deserted. I hooked a left, eventually settling on a spot about two blocks down.

Being a Sunday morning most people weren't up or still sat in church. If we hurried we could be in and out before the street started to bustle with traffic. I checked for traffic before getting out. Bridget hopped out onto the sidewalk. I hit the lock button on his keys and was rewarded with a honk from the Rover.

"Ready?" Bridget circled the car to stand next to me. She wore a messenger bag. She assured me it only carried harmless charms. They were just in case we ran into trouble.

We strode forward. Just two ladies out for a Sunday morning walk on a fine overcast day. Two ladies who hadn't pickpocketed a Were for his keys and stolen his car. Two ladies who definitely weren't breaking into a federally owned building to alter some documents. Nope. Nothing out of the norm here.

The BSB building loomed before us. There were security cameras at each entrance. This didn't bother me as much as it should have. No one watched the security footage unless vandals were about. I told myself this at least.

I walked up to the door like I belonged. There was a little censor that blinked red. I found the key and fitted it into the lock. The door beeped at me. I dug around in my purse for my BSB badge, flashing it over the censor. The little light flicked green and I heard another lock unlock itself. I pushed the door open.

"Ta-dah!" I held the door open for Bridget.

The inside was dark. I screwed up my courage and followed Bridget in. "Let's take the stairs."

Bridget opened the door to the stairwell. Blackness poured out. I fumbled with my cellphone. The light of the screen cast an eerie glow up into the darkness.

Carefully we took to the stairs. I didn't know what terrified me about them. Probably an overarching sense of guilt at what I was doing. I could lose my job and go to prison. The upside was if I did go to prison I'd at least be alive.

I flashed my badge again at the third floor. The telltale click indicated I could get on the floor. I pushed the door open on the third floor. I made a beeline for my office.

"Maybe I should apply here," Bridget whistled as she took in my office.

"I used to share this office," I said. I dropped my purse on my desk. I produced my keys and unlocked my filing cabinet. "My office mate was mauled." I surprised myself at how matter-of-fact I delivered it. My life was so screwed up being mauled by a werewolf seemed so every day.

I opened the filing cabinet drawer labeled "T-Z". My hand stopped over Angie's file. I wasn't ready to risk my career.

"Can't anyone just look those donor names up?" Bridget asked.

I grabbed the file and flung it on the desk. "We only track to make sure no one is being forced into giving blood. We hold the notaries for six months and then shred them. We only enter the ages of donors and dates of the notary. The BSB cares about protecting humans more than the interests of Others, I guess."

She picked up the manila folder and scanned through some blank consent forms. "Must piss a lot of Others off. Making them account for every little thing, but humans get away with a signature that's shredded in six months." Frustration edged her voice.

Others had to be entirely accounted for to "protect" the human population. Now that we knew about them, we couldn't live in the same blissful ignorance as we had. In many ways I supported the BSB. They saw to it Others didn't lose their jobs and had the same rights as any other citizens. I liked that. But at the same time separate but equal didn't work and it sometimes made my own blood boil to see a sweet woman like Leslie having to detail her nights to me while someone like me never had to.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

The frustration passed. "Eh, you don't make the rules."

"But I am about to break them." I chewed on my thumb.

If I was just caught in the building I could just say I left my wallet in my desk. What could I say if anyone found out I knowingly destroyed a file? Saying I did it to protect innocents wouldn't go a long way. The comeback would be why I hadn't reported it. I didn't have an answer to that. Angie had asked me not to. Her beautiful eyes, devoid of irises at the time, had held mine when she asked.

I slapped my palm into my forehead. "Oh brother."

"What's up?"

"Angie spelled me." She had been so subtle about it. I never realized, but each time she held my eyes, she had persuaded me. "She didn't want me to tell the BSB she had helped me against Jessica and Simon."

"Sounds like Angie."

"She didn't do it when she asked me to destroy her file. Think that means anything?"

"No," Bridget said after a considerable pause. "Are we doing this?" Her tension slowly filled the room. She wanted her familiar back. I stalled.

I grabbed the file. I'd tell Balicki and Hill the whole story. I shoved the file back into the filing cabinet.

"We're not doing this?"

"I can't. We'll go get Fernando and figure something else out. I'll explain the whole situation. Those people," I pointed to the now closed drawer, "Will be safe."

Skepticism crossed over Bridget. She shifted, crossed her arms, and bit her lip. "If you say so."

"Let's go." I refused to lose my job over Angie. I fumed inwardly as I picked up my purse.

I'd been stupid not to realize Angie had pulled the same crap Jessica tried. Spelling me with her eyes to get me to do what she wanted. She had let me make the decision about the file alone, but she'd kept me in danger not letting me report her interference to Balicki and Hill. I'd almost ruined everything for her.

I stomped out of the office towards the stairs. Bridget followed a few feet behind. My anger overrode everything. My hand was on the doorknob to let us back onto the stairs.

"Samantha," Bridget started suddenly. "Do you hear that?"

I stopped to listen to my surroundings. Someone else trudged up the stairs. Bridget pulled me away from the stairwell door.

Without a way of knowing who walked upstairs I didn't know where to hide us. I knew who it wouldn't be. Any of the cubicle owners. None of them would have a key to get into the building.

"Under a desk."

Bridget and I picked two cubicles across from each other. If the mystery person didn't turn on the light we stood a chance of not being caught. I crawled under the desk that had a view of the door. A divider wall blocked most of the view, but I could see enough to identify whoever came in. Bridget huddled under a desk, facing out toward the windows. All she saw was me.

The stairwell door opened. I saw a man come in. He wore jeans, with beat-up sneakers. He had on a long sleeved, coral, t-shirt. In the shadows I couldn't make out his face well, but he did have a darker complexion. Without the lights on I really couldn't pick him out of a line up though.

He had a key to get in; otherwise the alarms would have sounded. He moved with purpose away from the door toward the offices. I dared to move enough to see where he went. He stopped at Patrice's office first, checking out the nameplate. Then he moved on. Searching.

The sounds of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" blared. I looked at Bridget in horror. She returned my look.

"Hello?" I eased a little realizing it was the man's phone. "No, no, I was just having some tea and readying my things for tomorrow." His voice rumbled. Deep and melodic, almost soothing.

I crawled from my hiding spot to see where he was now. My office. I returned to my hiding place. I couldn't hear much of his conversation anymore. Just bits and pieces, general chatter. Bridget had her phone out. She flashed it to me to show me it was safely off. My phone beeps when I switch it off, but I checked it to make sure it had been turned to silent.

The sound of metal being scraped against metal grated my ears. The man made an ungodly racket. "Son of a bitch." He snarled. "Oh no, sorry. My stupid drawer is jammed again. Probably got a spoon caught in it. Can I call you later? I'm going to need both hands for this."

There was the sound again, like he shook something that wouldn't budge. Metal scraped against metal and even from outside my office my ears hurt. Bridget shifted across from me. Hurried footsteps crossed the office floor to the stairwell. A door closed and then there was no more noise on the floor.

I crawled out first, dashing into my office.

"He's getting something out of his car." Bridget called from a window facing the parking lot. "We should probably hide somewhere we can better escape from. A bathroom perhaps?"

I agreed, but I was worried. I couldn't be sure what he used, but he'd tried to jimmy open my filing cabinet. If I had to take a guess he was probably looking for a certain W file. I quickly unlocked the drawer. I pulled everything out of Angie's folder and shoved the notaries into a random V file.

"I think he's working with Simon," I said when Bridget joined me.

She took in the damage to the filing cabinet. I slammed the drawer closed and locked it up. Bridget took my hand, pulling me out of the office. We booked it down the stairs. On the first floor I peeked out the main door. The man had his back to us. His tan Chevy Malibu was parked in a handicapped spot near the door and he was half in the front seat looking for something.

I motioned to the bathroom. We went inside and the motion censored lights flicked on. I didn't want to risk him seeing light from under the door so I pushed the censor off. I put my hand on the door so I had some sense of direction. The bathroom was now pitch black and my eyes adjusted slowly. Bridget's hand, clammy from sweat, reached for my free one. We stood in the darkness, holding hands like little girls, listening intently for footsteps.

Our patience was eventually rewarded. Someone walked by the bathroom. The door to the stairwell opened and closed. There was no more sound. Giving Bridget's hand a squeeze, I pushed the door open. I surveyed the area. No mystery men hanging out, waiting to trap us.

My hand dropped away from Bridget's. We walked slowly at first. Once we reached the main door I pushed it open and ran like hell.

Bridget was close behind me when we reached the Rover. I unlocked the doors and slid in. Bridget was in and buckled in the blink of an eye.

"You honestly think he wanted Angie's file?"

I shrugged. I turned the car on. "I don't know. Why else would anyone try to break into my stuff?"

"There's always that. Maybe it was a surprise cursory inspection? Don't audits start tomorrow?"

I couldn't believe the BSB would do that. Not without a memo stating a surprise inspection would eventually be happening. Even BSB surprises were scheduled.

I pulled the Rover away from the curb. "Let's just get Fernando and go to Angie's safe house."

~*~*~

The apartment complex Jessica and Melvin lived in was just as creepy during the day as it was after dark. I parked Sean's car, turning the engine off. Bridget got out first. She dug around in her pockets. She produced her pack of unfiltered cigarettes and her Zippo. The smell of tobacco wafted in the air as I climbed out.

"I'm masking my scent," she explained. A smoke ring blew toward me. I waved it away.

Bridget looked rattled as we stood outside the apartment. I felt pretty rattled myself. The turn of my life in the last week hadn't left me exactly thrilled about my future prospects. This was of course assuming I had some sort of future. I could easily see my body being found in a dumpster somewhere.

"Come on," Bridget threw the cigarette down. She squashed it with her foot.

I led her inside and up to the apartment. "How do we get in?" The plan to get Fernando back didn't extend this far.

"I'll get it open."

I figured this meant she had some sort of spell to unlock it. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when she tried to kick the door in. I was especially surprised when the wood splintered and the door swung open.

"I spelled my shoes." She pointed to her sneakers. "When I first bought the bar I kept having to break down the bathroom door. Junkies hanging out, doing illegal crap. I could easily have stored the spell in my wand, but I look like a badass when I kick doors open. So, I spelled a bit of wood and glue it to my soles."

"Can you spell my boots?"

"Sure. But let's discuss that later."

"Right." I peered into the apartment.

Everything was the same as the last time I had been in. The only difference was the lack of a second coffin in the bedroom. Fernando's cage was perched on the counter, with the toaster in full view. Bridget rushed over and grabbed the cage.

The chinchilla hopped around. She took out her familiar and let him climb onto her shoulder. I felt a pang of grief for Sasha. I wanted to be reunited with my baby.

"Alright, let's go," I said.

Bridget reached into the pockets of her hoodie. "Anise extract." She opened the bottle. The smell overpowered everything else. "It'll cover our tracks. When they come to check on Fernando they'll know it's us, but they won't be able to scent us to Angie's safe house."

I was glad to have Bridget a few steps ahead of me. First the door, now the anise. I was impressed. She upended the contents of the bottle on the carpet. The already overpowering smell nearly knocked me over.

"Let's go." She cradled Fernando in her arms. "Grocery store? Then we can wake Sean up."
Fifteen

"Salt, pepper, and hot water normally serve to break a spell." Bridget explained as she searched through her cabinets.

She had given me a book on charm magic. It had dog-eared pages from much use. There were plenty of different kinds of witches. Earth, black, white, charm, wand, hedge witches, etc. To the BSB there was no difference. A witch was a witch and needed to be licensed to practice his or her craft. I had just assumed Bridget was an earth witch. Most in the area were. Looking through her spell book, with its many notes, I knew better.

I had never seen a real spell book, much less one of such a little practice magic in Illinois. There were spells for love, necromancy, health, luck, spells to make one's life better or to destroy the life of an enemy. I looked at the sleep spell that Bridget had showed me. According to her book it induced prophetic dreams.

"But," she squatted down, investigating the bottom shelf of the pantry. "I have a charm here somewhere that'll wake him up without soaking him and getting salt and pepper water on the floor. "Here you are!" She pulled out a beat up box of Count Chocula.

I watched her dump the contents onto the table. I sat on the floor next to Sean's immovable body. He breathed, but had not moved a muscle since dropping.

Bridget had a few odds and ends scattered on the table. I sat up to get a better look. Feathers, buckeyes, sturdy pieces of wood, vials of God only knew. She grabbed a wooden amulet with a piece of amber in the center. It hung on a leather string.

"The amber takes something negative and turns it in positive and the cypress wood holds a reversal spell." She explained. "I used to spell myself by accident as a kid. My mom bought this for me. It should have a spell charged."

"I hope so." I didn't want to explain salt and pepper water to Sean. "How does it work?"

Bridget went to one of the drawers near the sink and grabbed a sewing kit. "I prick Sean's finger and take one drop of blood. Easy, easy, easy." She took the amulet and a spool of thread with a needle stuck into it.

She sat next to me. Gently she took hold of Sean's lifeless hand, rubbing his fingers to get blood into the tips. "Sterilize this." She handed me the needle and her Zippo.

I ran the flame over the needle, not sure how to tell if it was sterilized. When the tip turned black Bridget nodded. "Now go use some hand sanitizer from the bathroom. That should do it, right?" She was asking me? Like I had a clue. My normal days didn't consist of cleaning needles to prick people.

I did as instructed. I used a bit of toilet paper to wipe the needle down with sanitizer. Returning to the kitchen I handed it to Bridget. She pricked Sean's finger just enough to break the skin. Again she rubbed his finger. One droplet of blood surfaced. Bridget held the amulet to it, letting the drop circle the amber. It created a moat around the stone in an indentation I hadn't notice before. Bridget draped the amulet over Sean's head as best she could.

No reaction was forthcoming. I was beginning to think maybe the wood wasn't charged with a spell.

"I don't think-" I was cut off as Sean gasped into awareness.

He propped himself up on his elbow quickly like he was going into a plank position. "Christ!" he panted. "What the hell?"

"I accidentally gave you the wrong coffee," Bridget lied. We were both on our feet, helping Sean up. "I meant to spell Samantha so she'd sleep. Then we could go get my familiar."

I gaped at the ease of her lies. Sean looked around, bewildered. "What's that smell? Smells like...liquorice."

"We dropped some anise at the Kleins' apartment," I said. I needed some truth in the kitchen. "Bridget said it'd make it harder to track us."

"Smart move," he mumbled. We helped him to one of the folding chairs. He eased into it, looking confused and worn. He lifted up the amulet.

"I didn't want to dump water on you. The effects of the sleeping spell are going to be lingering. I suggest keeping the amulet on for a while or you're going to go right back to bed." Bridget put a cup of coffee in front of Sean. He nodded a thanks and drank it. "Samantha is going to make some pancakes." Bridget continued.

I crossed to the counters where we had dumped the groceries. Eggs, flour, sugar. I unloaded each thing quietly while Bridget told Sean about our daring rescue. I wanted to tell him about the man in my office, but he wouldn't take too kindly to us using his keys to break in. So I settled myself on autopilot to make our lunch.

I put a pan on the stovetop, turned the heat on, and went about mixing everything together. After half an hour the mixing bowl soaked in the sink and a stack of pancakes sat on the table between Bridget and Sean.

Sean forked a pancake onto his plate, liberally adding butter and syrup. "I really think you should report this whole thing. I don't know why you haven't already."

"I think Angie spelled me," I said. I took one pancake. After this morning's panic attack on the street, I didn't feel much like eating. "Bent me to her will."

"I believe it." He cut up his pancakes and shoveled a big piece into his mouth. "I had my first car wrecked because my vampire ex-girlfriend held my eyes long enough to convince me she should drive. But you can report it now."

True. I could call Balicki and Hill. "Tomorrow. I want that auditor to see that I'm guiltless against these accusations."

Bridget looked up from her food. She had an anxious look on her face. "What do you think Angie will do?" She knew I planned to hand the BSB agents Angie's file. There was no reason to look so nervous. They could protect her donors and if she'd let me do that from the start some of this mess could have been avoided.

"You should both worry a little less about what Angie thinks." That was easy for Sean to say.

I touched the bruise around my eye. I cared a great deal what Angie thought. What little appetite was in me disappeared. I pushed my plate away. "When you're done eating, can you take us to the safe house?"

Sean's eyes locked with mine. Worry lines creased his forehead, making him look older than he was. "Do you need to pack anything?" he asked, turning his attention to Bridget.

"I'll have my sister take me just before sunset. I want to get some stuff at the store."

I excused myself to make sure I'd repacked everything into my bag. My heart raced even as I knelt on Bridget's floor taking stock of the few belongings I had. I wanted to feel safe again. The best that could be hoped for was Simon didn't locate the safe house tonight.

He wouldn't right? Angie seemed to elude him, even after encountering him and Jessica. If she could escape his grasp even when he had her in it, then I'd be safe. Right?

~*~*~

The drive from Bridget's to Angie's took longer than expected. People were out of church and running errands. I wasn't a fan of the Sunday post-church traffic, too many people and not enough lanes. Sean honked at a minivan that made an illegal left turn in front of him. He then flipped an inappropriate gesture that was reciprocated. Classic rock filtered through the radio and I was ready to crawl into bed for good.

"She wasn't trying to spell you was she?" He asked as he ran through a yellow light.

Bridget had spun some pretty amazing lies over breakfast. If I hadn't been with her I'd have sworn she told Sean the truth about the two hours he was knocked out. I, however, wasn't so adept at lying. I shook my head. Silence was my best defense now.

"Want to tell me what really happened?"

"No." No need to make him knowledgeable of my crimes. We didn't both need to lose our jobs. I turned away from the window to read his expression. His lips were tight and his brow wrinkled.

Since our few fleeting kisses I couldn't be sure if Sean's reactions to me were that of a boss or a friend or if he tried for something more. Either way my morning escapade would not make him happy. I silently prayed he wouldn't push the issue.

"I wish you had let me go to get the familiar," he said. "And I wish you would call Balicki and Hill today. This has gone on long enough."

"No, tomorrow is better." I could give them the file, explain everything.

"I have a key to the building." I almost broke into hysteric giggles at this. "We can get the file and hand it over."

I stalled. Angie's eyes, black with fury, were burned into my memory. Her motives for not wanting to be found out were unclear to me. She was already in the system. What possible harm could come of cooperating with the BSB? Maybe she wanted to go off the grid again. First Boston, now Chicago. Simon tracked her easily enough through the BSB. Why did she even bother?

"I want to talk to Angie first."

Sean huffed and puffed like a big, bad wolf, but kept his thoughts to himself. He pulled onto a side street off of Austin. Cars lined either side. He slowed the Range Rover, looking at addresses. "There it is." I pointed to a beige brick house.

It was one story and through the chain link fence I saw a garage to match. Sean found a parking spot a few houses down. I scooped up my bag and bat getting out with the grace of a fish out of water. Sean walked around the car to help me with my bag.

"Not a bad neighborhood," Sean said.

It wasn't. The house was located in Jefferson Park. A quick ride would put me right back home. A shadow of doubt hovered over me. I was too close to home. No. Simon knew Angie was in the city, but couldn't find her. I'd be safe in one of her hideouts. I fit the key into the lock, pushing the front door open.

The front room had hardwood floors. There was a beige leather couch, an end table with a desk lamp, and wall to wall bookshelves. No knickknacks or photos, no vases of flowers, no decoration to speak of. Multitudes of books though.

Sean put my bag down. "I guess when you've had lifetimes to live you accumulate a lot of stuff." I walked through the front room into a small hallway. Straight ahead was an office, though it was pretty sparse. An overhead ceiling light, a beat-up desk, and a swivel chair. An ancient PC was set up on the desk.

To my right was a bedroom. Same overhead lighting and a queen size bed with a quilt on it. Not even a dresser. Anyone Angie let stay here wasn't expected to stay for long. To the left of the bedroom was a bathroom. White tile, white walls, tiny bathtub. Nothing special. Next to the office was the kitchen. New marble countertops clashed with the old stove and refrigerator. No table, no other appliances. A canvas bag sat next to the stainless steel sink.

Sean walked passed me, inspecting the bag. "There's a note that says 'feed yourself'. And there are some bananas, mustard, and peanut butter." Gross. "Oh and microwave popcorn."

"But no microwave."

"Is this what she thinks the living eats?" He opened the refrigerator. "There's a pie in here."

I wasn't one to turn my nose up at pie. Two doors stood next to each other. My guess was one went to the attic and one to the basement. Hefting the bat onto my shoulder for confidence I tried the door on the left. Stairs led downward. I flicked on the first switch I saw, casting a soft glow in the basement.

I went down with Sean close behind me. It was the holy land of movies. The walls were unseen behind shelf after shelf of movies. The only break was around the TV, the washer and dryer, and a sink. Each of the bottom shelves was packed with video games. Against a far wall was the most magnificent TV I had ever seen. A Playstation 3 was hooked up to it, but a few other systems were visible on the shelf underneath the TV. A burgundy recliner of leather and a black leather couch were positioned around a coffee table. A treadmill was behind the couch for easy TV watching during exercise.

"She must have every movie ever made down here." Sean walked forward to inspect them. "And in alphabetical order. What happens when she buys a new movie? Does she spend hours moving everything down one?" I watched him pull a movie from the B and M sections and switch them with movies in the H and O sections. "Vampires get way too compulsive about stuff," he said by way of explanation.

I looked around the basement, hugging myself. Sean moved next to me. "Want to watch a movie or something?"

"I want to go home. God, I can't believe this mess. And the BSB is being oh so helpful. I'm in a quagmire of bureaucracy."

"I'm going to tell you something. I'm not supposed to say anything, but whatever. Balicki and Hill have been trying to cancel these audits. The recent attacks against you prove to them that you haven't done anything. Also they reported the death of a case worker in Boston. He'd been harassed, and then found dead in a dumpster." I shivered. Angie's old case worker. "The vampire he said who'd been harassing him, some Katera Hanson, gone. Balicki and Hill aren't allowing the same mistake to be made. They want time to work out your case. They've been calling all around the city, sending out notices about Jessica. However, this Dhaliwal guy is insistent saying our office is a disgrace to the BSB."

I thought of the man trying to break into my office. A man with a key to the building. A man with access to the floor. That seemed like the kind of power an official BSB auditor would have. I wanted to confide in Sean, but I kept my mouth shut.

"You think he's in cahoots with Jessica?"

"No. I think he's a paper pusher. I think he wants to exercise his power and make everyone think he's a big shot."

I wish I could agree. "Well it'd be nice if the BSB did something more than send paper pushers after me." I huffed. I rubbed my arms, feeling cold despite my jacket. Outside I heard the beginning of rain fall.

"Hey, that's not fair to Balicki and Hill. They've been trying."

"Not hard enough."

"It's better than the alternative." Sean sat on the couch. He patted the spot next to him. I slid onto it, not resisting when he put an arm around my shoulder. "Here's a well-kept secret of the Others for you. Things are much safer with the BSB."

I turned my head to face him. I curled my body up. His arm snaked down to rest on my back. His face was emotionless. It was unsettling.

Others had been surviving since forever without the BSB. Its inception made most of them angry. To hear the son of alphas say it was safer shocked me. Vampires were almost walking gods. Werewolves in wolf form could only be stopped with silver. Witches could do all manner of magic, including summoning demons and talking to the dead. What did they have to be scared of? I took in Sean's blank face.

"Once when I was ten my sister and I stayed out past dark bike riding. When we got home we were grounded for three months. Without anyone policing Others, children like my sister and I got taken all the time. Used in the weird power struggles that raged out of human notice. Most Others wouldn't report it. A werewolf child goes missing? They're gone. And unless they turn up again, no one speaks of them. A lot of Others will deny it and say the BSB is only ruining instinct. I say whatever. Five years ago if a vampire thought you were hiding something for a rival he wouldn't bargain. He'd break you for what he wanted. Vampires like Angie and Simon are playing nice because they don't want the BSB all over the vampire population. It's an imperfect system, but I prefer having you in a safe house with an audit looming than your neck snapped."

"I hate this fear."

"I know. I lived with it most of my life. My parents are powerful werewolves, alphas on the northside with a huge pack to protect. I spent a childhood boxing and playing contact sports. I'd have rather been playing video games with friends. Just ask Bridget. She probably remembers what it was like. Knowing what was out there, but never being able to report it."

I thought back to Bridget's face when she first mentioned Simon. She said he hurt people and her face filled with pain. I hated to think of it.

Others on the news always touted being proud and strong. They saw themselves above the laws and fought tooth and nail for fair treatment. Bridget had even scoffed at the BSB's protection of human blood donors. It never occurred to me some Others saw the BSB as a good way to stop warfare that had been quietly brewing for thousands of years. That the complaints over pack boundaries and balking at the outlawing of demon magic were welcome release for those who had everything to lose. Maybe that was why Angie hid in the open, being on the grid made her marginally safer than staying hidden.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

The hand on my back gave a gentle nudge. I snuggled up to Sean, putting my head on his chest, letting him hug me as we sat in silence. His kissed the top of my head and smoothed down my hair.

"You're fine, Samantha." But for how long?

I moved my legs, straddling Sean in the effort. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close. His lips were warm and sweet. The amulet pressed into my chest as I wrapped my own arms around his neck. I couldn't say what I looked for, but his closeness was good enough for now. I allowed myself the opportunity to enjoy his caresses.

The last two times we'd kissed fear and dread hung heavy. I was safe for the moment. I could allow myself some joy and relaxation. His kiss deepened and one of his hands moved up under the back of my shirt.

His hands felt good on my back. Filling me with warmth, a warmth until recently I thought was long gone. I'd never allowed myself to daydream about him. It was especially hard on days when he looked enticing in jeans or well fitted suits. I had always admonished myself. Boss, I'd always reminded myself. But I didn't care right now.

I slipped my own hands under his shirt. He wasn't kidding about spending a childhood getting fit for Others warfare. His muscles were rock hard. His hand moved up farther to my bra. I broke the kiss.

"No," I said, though my voice wavered. My old reservations returned. Even second base would be too far and would destroy our working relationship.

His removed his hand from under my clothes and brushed some of my hair away. His brown eyes were soft as he looked at me. "No," he repeated, but his voice was heady with wanting. He cleared his throat, shifting me off him. "Let's watch a movie."

I let him pick some comedy. He went straight for "Animal House." I sat rigid on the couch as he loaded the DVD player. He grabbed the remote and flopped back down.

He held out one arm, making a "come here" motion with his hand. "No funny business," he said with a smile. I removed my jacket. I slowly eased into his arms, letting him envelope me.

~*~*~

The rain started and had yet to let up. The constant tapping on the windows soothed my mind. I sat with Bridget in the basement. Sean left as the sun set. His last kiss still lingering on my lips as I turned the TV on.

"So, like, if you canoodled on that bed I am going to be so mad," Bridget said.

I settled the TV on a random movie station. Two old women fought over a cake and tea. "I did not canoodle on the bed. And what makes you think you get the bed?"

"If you take that bed, I am crawling in it with you."

I was dog tired. Unless Bridget snored or squirmed in her sleep, I couldn't have cared less. But I didn't think I'd be able to sleep again. I'd probably keep her up the whole night with my tossing and turning.

"You can have the bed. I'll sleep down here."

"Damn straight." She smiled triumphantly.

We sat enjoying the movie. Her mere presence was a comfort now that Sean had gone home. I had never been the kind of person that needed to be around other people. Sure, I went out with friends. I enjoyed a good conversation, but I could also entertain myself. This whole week I hadn't wanted to be away from other people. I hated Simon for taking away my confidence in solitude.

Upstairs the door opened and closed. Bridget and I both sat up straight. The bickering old ladies on TV were the only sound. "I brought some more food." Angie's voice carried downstairs.

Relieved we turned the TV off. In the kitchen Angie dropped another canvas bag on the counter. "I had one of my donors get food this time." Thank God.

I rooted through the bags. I hadn't eaten since my one bite of pancake. My stomach growled, but I didn't want Sean to leave me alone to get food. I didn't like bananas and the pie was highly suspect. I praised Angie's donor silently. Pre-made salads and some frozen chicken nuggets. Not the best, but edible. She'd even gotten Cheerios and milk for breakfast. There was a six pack of root beer.

I dug into one of the salads without bothering with dressing. Bridget took the other. She found a cookie sheet, never used, under the stove. She dumped the chicken nuggets onto it, turned the stove on, and began eating her own salad.

"Did you get the file?" Angie asked.

"No," I said. I put my half eaten salad on the counter. "I want to hand it over to those BSB agents who have been helping me."

Bridget busied herself by locating two mugs and filling them with root beer.

"That's the opposite of what I want." Angie put her hands on her hips, looking like a tiny Wonder Woman in leather pants and a biker's jacket.

"I'm not going to lose my job."

"You shred those documents after six months anyway!" She got very close to me, before I could look down, but what I saw was fury. Okay. She'd spelled me before. Don't lock eyes.

"Yeah, but I'm being watched closely. And if I make a report that says you have twenty-five notaries for the month of April. You damn well better have twenty-five!"

"Then lie!"

Bridget put a mug in my hand. "Someone else was looking for those notaries today," she said. She forced her way between Angie and me. "Samantha didn't destroy anything, but she hid the notaries in another file."

I took a sip of the root beer. My eyes stayed on Angie, even though she now focused on Bridget.

"Let her hand them to these agents. They want her safe." I had told Bridget about Balicki and Hill. How they wanted the audits to be halted and me to be kept safer.

My head felt light. I put an unsteady hand against my forehead.

"Trust Exercise." I turned to Bridget. She looked shamefaced.

"What? Oh, you bitch." My body rushed for the floor and everything went black.
Sixteen

My dreams were vivid. I walked an ethereal plain at night. The stars swirled around like Van Gogh's "Starry Night". Wherever my foot fell the grass died. If I did not move fast enough the rot laced up my leg. I walked on, never slowing, not sure where it was I had landed.

I passed Bridget sitting on a rotting log under a cypress tree. Behind her was a swamp reflecting the starlight above. Her face had been painted white, though her eye sockets were black and her lips lined to look like teeth. She held a skull in one hand and an amulet in the other. No words escaped her though her lips moved frantically. She looked at me, mouthing her unheard words louder. The water of the swamp gradually changed color. The moon that had reflected yellow was now a deep red on the water's surface.

I moved on. A great, brown wolf, Sean, stood on his hind legs dancing to an invisible tune. Above us I saw that the stars moved to his dance. His coat shone brightly. He tilted his head back and howled. The sound rocked me to my core. I stopped my gait to cover my ears. Even the stars halted their dance. He resumed his dance. The stars did as well. I pulled my feet free of the rot around them.

With each new step the filth fell away, but behind me a trail of black earth snaked a path directly to me. Onward I moved. The plain showed only Sean's wolf dance and Bridget's bloody cypress swamp. Everything else was a vast land stretching as far as I could see. I walked for a long time. Finally I came upon a pedestal. A crystal vial sat on it. My dream self knew I looked at the Tears of Christ. I reached out to grab the vial.

I came back into the waking world with salt and pepper water up my nose. I sputtered and gasped. My arms flayed out at some unseen attacker.

"Calm down," Bridget gently scolded.

I lay on the kitchen floor. The first pinks and grays of dawn were visible through the window. I had been changed into my pajamas, now soaking wet.

"It's about six. Angie changed you, tucked you into bed, and then dragged you out of bed at four. Guess she didn't want water to damage the mattress. She demanded I get up at four too."

"Couldn't you have used that amulet?"

"It wasn't charged. How do you feel?"

"I had some trippy dreams."

"Yeah, I don't have a standard sleeping potion, just one that supposedly gives you prophetic dreams. Whenever I've been on the receiving end I haven't had any prophecies, just weird dreams."

I thought back to my dream. Bridget painted up to look like a skull. In the soft light of dawn she just looked tired. I thought about what Sean had said about things being safer for Others now. I thought about Bridget's reaction to Simon.

"How are you?" I asked.

Bridget blinked. "Fine. Since you're up I'm going to get some more sleep."

I nodded, pulling myself off the floor. "Can I ask you a question first?" Bridget shrugged, but made no comment. She stood expectant for my questions. "Sean said he used to have to worry about being abducted by a rival pack. What was it like for you before the BSB?"

"Mostly fine. We only knew of one witch near our family, then of course my uncle is a turned werewolf, but we generally lived quietly. Being unimportant within witch and Were hierarchy no one cared what we did."

"But you knew Simon?"

"In a way." She cracked her knuckles. I thought I had overstepped my bounds. I didn't know her all that well, why should she share anything with me? "He killed my girlfriend when I was eighteen. Before the BSB, vampires were real clever. They'd slit wrists or string victims up to make deaths look like suicides, always leaving tidy notes of regret. Allison met Simon at an art show. She was unaware of Others. I tried to warn her, but he spelled her same as Angie spelled you. Drained her, slit her wrists to hide the bite marks, and left her for dead."

I wanted to hug Bridget and apologize, but what good would that do. There had to be years between that tragedy and now. I stood awkwardly.

"I went to New Orleans after some serious acting out." I watched her unconsciously touch her sleeved arm. Her hand rubbed the area where I'd seen her burn scar. "Angie actually accompanied me down there. I took the train with her coffin in tow. Said I was transporting my grandfather to be buried in Louisiana. My aunt sells earth charms down there. I picked up the practice and eventually came home. Had Allison been attacked with the BSB in force murder would never have been ruled out, but she'd be gone all the same. The BSB leashes us because humans are scared, but I suppose there's solace in the small things. Like Simon and his cronies are being investigated now before they have a chance to hurt anyone else. Well, I'm tired. So have a good day at work. Come by the bar afterwards. I think Angie has something brewing."

~*~*~

I showered and dressed in my finest business professional. Nude nylons, navy blue skirt and matching blazer, with a light pink blouse. I looked like a stewardess, felt like a corporate tool. No matter. I still had Angie's file, I had a bargaining chip.

Since I was up early enough I took some time out of my morning to go home. I called a cab. I wanted to drive myself to work.

Chris slept soundly in his room. The place felt empty without anyone awake. I really wanted to see Sasha, but that wasn't in the cards today. I strode into the bathroom and applied enough make-up to make it look like I wore none. I combed out my hair and put half of it up, letting the rest fall past my shoulders. I made a turkey sandwich, grabbed an apple, and a container of microwavable macaroni and cheese. I felt like I was heading off to first grade.

The traffic was tolerable, getting sketchy and slow only when I drove over the Kennedy expressway. I fidgeted nervously when I finally got to the office. I got out of the Rav and sighed heavily. There was a twenty-five percent chance I'd get out of the ordeal unscathed.

Everyone milled about the third floor break room. I caught sight of Rena who guarded an empty seat at one of the few tables. She waved me over. She had two bagels, a plain and a cinnamon raisin, set in front of her.

"They bought us bagels and doughnuts," she said sliding the raisin one to me. "What happened to your eye?"

I had yet to eat this morning. My stomach did cartwheels, making my appetite disappear. I thanked Rena and slipped the bagel into my lunch bag. "I ate before coming in. And it's best to ignore my eye."

"It's...black and blue!" She reached a hand out to touch it.

"I was at a bar with a friend. I got some friendly fire between two guys who were fighting."

I saw Sean talking with Carl at the bagel table. He turned, locking eyes with me. He smiled and my heart fluttered. I dropped my eyes.

"Don't be nervous, Samantha," Rena smiled at me. She broke off a piece of her bagel and popped it into her mouth. "I heard the office in Glen Ellyn just had one of these. No one was fired there."

"I just wish they could give normal performance reviews instead of this audit." I also wished I worked with less dangerous individuals. Maybe I should seek work as a case worker with death row convicts. "I'm going to go straighten up my office and wait for the inevitable."

~*~*~

No one came in to see me right away. Instead I spent the morning emailing my clients, letting them know we would have to reschedule my meetings for the week. I tried to ignore the gauges in my filing cabinet. The mystery man had made no secret of his activity. Maybe he didn't expect me to last the day.

It looked like he'd gone after the lock with a screwdriver. My mom had tried that trick to get into my locked hope chest when I was a teenager. It hadn't worked then and it hadn't worked now. If Angie's pursuers wanted it, they could ask politely.

I opened the filing cabinet. The Angie file was missing. Okay, I told myself. I hid her papers. I opened the V file I thought I'd shoved them in. Nothing in there with her name on it. I tore through the files. Nothing. Nothing. Sweet baby Jesus, nothing! Papers flew around the office as I searched. They were here yesterday! Stupid, stupid, stupid! I cursed myself. I was stupid to think the file was safe.

"Miss Dunmore?" A man about my height, perhaps thirty-ish, with black gelled up hair and a black suit came in. If he spent time working from a desk he supplemented that by working out all the time. I could tell he was ripped even through his clothes. "I'm Stevenson Dhaliwal." His voice was melodic. The same voice I'd heard yesterday while hiding under the desk. I couldn't say I was surprised. "Is there a problem, Miss Dunmore?"

He smirked. I had a handful of notaries in my hand, clutching them like I'd die if I let them go. He closed the door, putting us alone in the office. I bunched up the paper.

"Where are they?" I thought I'd scream. My voice came out as a harsh whisper.

He took the seat across from me. I saw a flash of gauze on his wrist. Vampires bit there if they wanted an easier place to conceal the wound. Thighs were pretty popular too. He caught me staring and covered his wrist with his other hand.

"That's against regulations," I said.

He pulled his jacket sleeve down over the gauze. "Don't worry about the file and the notaries." Oh God. He'd given them to Simon. All those innocent people. I should have trashed it yesterday. "I got a locksmith in here bright and early. That lock of yours was impervious to normal lock picking methods. I put them in my car." His expression was triumph.

I let out a stream of air. Simon didn't have information on Angie's donors yet. The notaries had phone numbers and names. It'd be easy to get addresses from that. I had to get that file back.

"You and that stupid witch broke your agreement with Simon."

"Ha! I saw you rooting around here yesterday before Fernando's liberation. I'm pretty sure your vampire master broke his word first," I growled. "I'm going to report you!" I pointed a finger at Stevenson. I'd be calling Balicki and Hill posthaste.

"You had a chance to avoid this mess. You never should have allied yourself with Angie." I looked at his now covered wrist. At least I didn't bind myself to a vampire who slit wrists and wrote suicide notes.

"Get the fuck out of my office!"

"Call your BSB agents. I outrank them." He moved like liquid out of the chair. "I think I might do some light reading at lunch. I've got some good reads in the car."

I watched him leave. My fingers dug into my armrests. My jaw clenched. I fought against my instinct to jump on his back and slam his head into the wall. I sat, waiting for the urge to pass. As I sat there in anger Sean walked by.

He backtracked and came into my office. He wore a gray suit with a gray striped tie and a white shirt. "Samantha?"

"Close the door, please," I said through gritted teeth.

I loosened my jaw. Sean closed the door. I got out of my chair. I wrapped my fingers into the lapels of his jacket. I pulled him in for kiss. I even slipped him a little tongue before moving back.

"I'm about to lose my job. Wish me luck." I gave him another kiss.

"Where are you going?" Sean held my arm.

"Never you mind."

I broke away and opened the door. I made for the stairs and hurried down to the parking lot. A few smokers, Brent among them, stood outside enjoying a quick cigarette break.

"Hey Dunmore, what's up?" Brent asked, offering me a smoke from his pack.

"I'm on a mission, but thanks." I waved the offer away.

I strode to the Rav. A tan Chevy Malibu was parked next to it. I recognized it as the one from yesterday. I peered into the passenger side window. Angie's file lay on the seat. This nonsense needed to end. I opened the Rav. My bat lay on the floor behind the driver's seat. I grabbed it.

"What are you doing, Dunmore?" Brent called from the door. His voice filled with laughter.

I looked at the Malibu. Side or front? Side or front? Front. It'd be harder to drive it this way. I took a few warm up swings, and then made contact with his windshield.

The glass spider webbed after my first swing. One more solid hit ought to finish the job. Stevenson's car alarm went off, screeching in my ear. I refused to be deterred.

"Dunmore! Christ!" Brent screamed. "Have you lost your damn mind?!"

I swung the bat again. This time glass flew at me. I'd have to shake down my clothes to get all the little glass bits out. I shoved the bat through the hole I made. I cleared away enough glass so half my body could fit in. I brushed the glass away and climbed up on the hood. I reached in and grabbed the file. I crawled back down. For good measure I marched around the back and broke the taillights. Bits of red glass littered the parking lot.

I climbed into the Rav, turned the key, and put the car into drive. At the front door Stevenson and Carl had come out. I could make out Sean's figure behind them. I blew Stevenson a kiss and peeled out of the parking lot.

Seventeen

"You did some serious damage to private property," Balicki shouted over the phone. "I don't care if Stevenson Dhaliwal is Dracula himself! You can't just go around busting open windows."

I sat on the countertop at Sláinte. Bridget had her head down. She couldn't hide her laughs. Her entire body shook with them.

"I told you I needed to get those files. Please, come get them before Stevenson tries to reclaim them."

I had driven around for a while. I eventually went home and changed into jeans and a White Sox t-shirt. I parked the Rav at a grocery store, took the bus to Bridget's, and had been with her ever since. Angie wanted us at the bar, so that's where we were. I still planned to give the file up for safekeeping.

"Please come get the file. I can explain everything." My phone had been off for hours. I had a lot of texts and voicemails, but I refused to listen. I didn't want to hear from anyone, but the BSB agents who were supposed to be helping.

"I can't promise you won't be taken to the police station for this. And you better have a damn good reason for all this if you hope to ever find work again. Right now we're at the office downtown. Stay where you are. We'll get there as soon as possible." The connection clicked.

"So?" Bridget looked up. Her face was red from laughter.

"They'll be here when they get here. How are we on time?"

"Sun just set. I don't know where Angie's coffin is, but she must be close. She'd want to beat Simon here."

Bridget closed the bar. She'd also locked the file in her safe in the back. She wore jeans and a long sleeved green shirt. Her short hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She poured out two tumblers of her vampire repellent. If Simon broke my neck he at least wouldn't get my blood.

I pulled my hair up into a ponytail as well. I fidgeted nervously. I didn't like this. Any of it. I should have just turned the file over right away. I'd been stupid to let Jessica pick on me, not saying more. Now I had broken a windshield, brained a couple of vampires, and made out with my boss. Boy, I must be the envy of every little girl.

Half an hour later Angie waltzed in. "Where is it?" Was all Angie said by way of greeting.

"Locked away. I'm handing it over to the BSB. I had to steal it back from Simon's stooge. But I faked some notaries in case Simon turns up before the BSB. I figure Dolly Madison and Bea Arthur would want you to bite them. We made copies at a print shop."

"Clever." Angie pulled a little vial from her pocket. She placed it on the bar next to where I sat. It looked nothing like the one I saw in my dream. It was a little jar, like the ones I saw at the beach that held little shells. There was a red wax stopper plugging it up. Dingy liquid filled it.

"Did Christ cry muddy water?" Bridget picked it up to inspect.

"Haha. I filled it up in a puddle. Simon will grab it and run. Give him the fake file too as a show of good faith."

"Where's the original?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll make sure Simon leaves you alone after this."

"How?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I said not to worry."

I slurped down the repellant. I had to trust that Angie would solve this. And if she didn't Balicki and Hill would.

The three of us chatted quietly. At eight Jessica, Stevenson, and Melvin came in. Simon came in last, pulling the strings on his three puppets. Angie growled, Bridget reached for her pistol, and I dug out the stake. Finally I had it when I needed it.

"Miss Dunmore," Stevenson's voice was a cold knife in my brain.

"Your collateral walked off," Simon replied coolly.

"Back off, Simon. Dunmore and O'Malley had nothing to do with any of this. Call off the dogs. I've got the Tears." She held up the fake vial and gave it a shake. "If you want it, you deal with me. Or are you afraid I'll break your collarbone again?"

Simon showed all his teeth. "What do you want, Agacia?" Apparently picking on me was easy. He picked on me and got away with it, but when mama bear stepped up he suddenly lost his nerve. She'd come to me scared of Simon, now he was scared of her. Vampires. What idiots.

"Samantha." I looked up. Even from across the room Simon's eyes had power over me. "Give me the vial."

I blinked and turned away. My hand tightened around the stake. I felt safer having it in my grip. I was a fool not to have it earlier.

"Aw," Jessica taunted. "Look at the kitten with the dog's bone." I looked at the stake.

I was sick to death of this. I don't have vampire reflexes, but this didn't stop me from grabbing Bridget's ashtray and throwing it. It smacked into Stevenson's forehead, ash flying everywhere. His weaselly vampire buddies didn't even try to stop it. Small victories.

No one did anything at first. Like a flash Jessica and her brother lunged. Angie punched Melvin in the throat and close lined Jessica. With them dropped she jumped at Simon. The two elder vampires grappled.

Jessica recovered first and tried to launch over the bar. She ripped the pistol out of Bridget's grip and flung it across the room. Bridget caught her in the arm with a corkscrew. She landed atop the bar, trying to stop the bleeding. Bridget proceeded to bludgeon Jessica in the face with a bottle of rum. Melvin stayed down. Good. He at least was keeping his meek self out of the fray.

That left Stevenson, who had decided to bum rush me. I wasn't cool enough to throat punch or use a cork screw attack so I bent my body down at the last second. I sent my shoulder and elbow into his solar plexus and groin respectively. He staggered back. I was blind to everything, but him. My ears were fully aware of the fights going on around us, but I saw nothing.

Again Stevenson rushed me. This time when I turned to block with my elbow he took hold of the waist of my t-shirt, yanking me hard and to the side. I stumbled, trying to keep my balance. The shirt ripped from the strain. With a firm hold on the back of my shirt he forced my head down and toward his raised knee. I managed to turn my head so my cheek took the most impact. I spared myself a broken nose, but the jolt still shook my teeth. I took the butt of the stake and slammed it into his knee.

"Christ!" It was enough to force him to release me.

I backed up into the bar. Jessica had her hands on Bridget's throat. Bridget's eyes bulged out and she clawed at Jessica's fingers. I slammed the stake into Jessica's shoulder.

She screamed and released Bridget. I missed her heart on purpose. I couldn't kill someone. Even this someone. Jessica used both hands trying to pull the stake out. Blood poured out and she turned white. Bridget lay where she was, gasping for air.

From behind something cracked on my skull. My world flashed white. I blindly swung around, pulling the stake free of Jessica's shoulder. I hit Stevenson in the head with the blunt end. He staggered back. Blood covered my hand and stake.

I touched my head, it was wet. Pulling back my fingers they were a bright red. My stomach was mostly empty, but what was inside surged upwards. I vomited all over the bar. I grabbed the counter, leaving a bloody smear as I tried to keep my balance. I was briefly aware Stevenson had me by my shoulders. I suddenly flew backwards into a table. From the flat of my back the ceiling spun. I tried to sit up.

Stevenson and Jessica were coming toward me. Angie had Simon on the ground while she repeatedly slammed his head into the floor. Simon kicked her off. He threw himself at her. The two crashed through the glass on the door.

Stevenson pulled me up. I punched him in the face. My aim was off and my arm weak. I connected with his shoulder. He tossed me backwards into the rubble of table and chairs.

Bridget jumped onto the bar. "Leave my friend alone!" She screamed.

The ground shook like an earthquake, running up through my bones. My vision was already unsteady, but I could see an aura of light green around Bridget. It flashed black, then back to green. I thought it was my head wound causing me to imagine things, but Stevenson's mouth hung open too.

"Don't let that witch draw in anymore!" Stevenson said.

"Get out of here!" She screamed again. A shockwave ran through the floor, cracking a few chairs and the wood over the already broken door. She jumped off the bar and tried to reach my side.

Stevenson made to grab her. I grabbed his ankle and yanked. He went face first into the floor. With her vampire reflexes Jessica was on me. She touched my blood and drew her hand back with a scream. Bits of ash fell into my open wound. She took my left arm and there was a crack. The screaming wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it stop? I had a small idea that I was the one making the noise. I still had my stake. I slammed it into Jessica's thigh. I became mildly aware she was no longer in my reach.

Warm hands were on me. "Give me a minute and you'll be safe," Bridget whispered. Was that salt in her hand?

She circled us and shouted a word into the madness. A green sheet surrounded us. A limping Stevenson threw himself into it, but the green only rippled at his effort. Jessica, Stevenson, and Melvin stood outside, away from us.

"Where's Angie?"

"The cops and the BSB will be here soon. That shock wave will have everyone on the block calling for help." Bridget knelt beside me.

"You're bleeding," I said. I reached for her cheek. Someone had cut her face. I laughed. I don't know why. I couldn't help it.

"Samantha, you probably have a concussion. I need you to stay awake for me, okay?" The sheet rippled again. The puppets looked for weaknesses. My vision was fading. I could feel a warm liquid running down my temple. Bridget ripped part of my shirt apart, I think. There was a distinct ripping of fabric. The green shook again. Something pressed against my head.

What happened next was so fast my eyes couldn't adjust to it. Stevenson and company put their hands up. Four uniformed cops and two suits, Balicki and Hill, came at them, guns drawn. They were handcuffed and dragged out. The paramedics came next.

"Samantha, I want you to break the circle I made. Just run your fingers in the salt and break it. Show me you are still lucid."

I couldn't feel any more pain. I could taste the vomit. It was probably all over me. I wanted to reach my good arm out and break the salt, but I couldn't. If I moved I might die. My left arm hung uselessly against my stomach. I'd be bruised all over tomorrow. If I broke the circle I could get medical help. Why couldn't I break the circle?

"You!" Hill growled. Why hadn't he and his partner been here to protect me? "Let her out of the circle!" He roared.

"Break the circle, Samantha." Her hand rested on my cheek. "Please, stay awake for me. Show me you're awake."

"Goddamn you!" Hill was closer now. "What are you doing?"

I walked my fingers across the floor. My fingertips brushed the salt. I made one line through it. The sheet fell down around us. "Good girl," she whispered to me.

"Miss," a paramedic said in my ear as he knelt to me. "I'm going to need you to step back." I felt Bridget leave my side. I wanted her to stay. In all this confusion and in my fear and disorientation my friend was the only thing that felt real.

I forced my eyes upwards. Balicki and Hill had Stevenson in cuffs, handling him roughly. I smiled. Small victories indeed.

~*~*~

A man leaned over me when my thoughts gathered again. I vaguely recalled the ride to the hospital, but somewhere my memories stopped making sense. This was real though. A man, not just any man, but Simon, hovered over me. Beside me a machine beeped.

"Doctor?" I rasped. Hoping a nurse would come in.

"Doctor Simon, Miss Dunmore." He inspected my head closely. "You have some stitches and a clean break in your arm." I held up a casted arm. When had that happened? "You've been kinda of loopy for a few hours. It's about two am now."

"Where's Bridget? What did you do to her?"

"You'll join her soon enough." He went to the door and closed it. "I understand there was another woman in the bar." He smiled, showing his extended canines.

"You wanted her. You made Jessica to try to get to her."

"Smart girl. I'm surprised you didn't break given the circumstances. No. Instead you overcame your fear of a powerful vampire like Agacia to keep your loyalty and her file. I reward loyalty and punish failure." He ran a tongue over his extended teeth.

I lived through all this only to die in a hospital. I guess it was convenient the morgue was in the building. "I know her pretty well. She's fled Chicago and she won't tell you where she's going. You no longer have any information to give." His hand grabbed my shoulder and pushed me into the bed. He snapped his fingers. Melvin came out of the bathroom. "I'm sorry about this, Miss Dunmore."

Melvin bent over me. He extended his own teeth. Simon presented my wrist to him. The sting of teeth dug into my wrist. As my blood flowed ash covered my wrist. Melvin tried to pull up. Simon pushed his head down, making sure he didn't break his hold. Melvin grayed around the edges. My heart slowed. My vision faded. All this only to die.

~*~*~

"She's awake!" A young woman dressed in light blue scrubs was wrapping up my wrist. "One of those scumbags came in here. We found him dead, a bite mark on your wrist."

Poor Melvin. I wiped a tear away remembering his graying skin as he drank my blood. He'd only been loyal to Jessica. No one needed to die. All over a silly relic that probably did nothing more than taste like salty water.

"I had some holy water and garlic."

"You should buy a car for the witch that spelled that for you. It probably saved your life. I wish I could brew something that powerful. I've seen vampires die from it before, but they can usually smell it before they bite."

"Simon made him bite me."

"Oh sweetie, you must still be out of it. No one has been in here except for that escaped vampire. Just rest. Your friend, Bridget, is being moved into this room after she is done being questioned by the cops and the BSB. We're keeping you here at least until the morning. I'll be back in a little while to check on you. And, you have a visitor." She winked and left me. I heard her tell someone in the hallway to come in.

Sean came in. He ran a hand along my face. The moment was fleeting. "Brent, Jose, and Patrice are here. Carl is getting coffee, but he wants to come see you too."

"I look like shit."

He smiled, showing all his teeth. His fingers brushed the bandage over my stitches. "You'll heal and your scar will make you look tough."

"If I was a dude maybe. I'll just look like a battered woman otherwise."

The smile. My heart beat faster to see it. "You silly girl. A good witch can hide it for you and so can some decent foundation." He took my right hand. I looked at my cast and frowned.

"Our beloved, but nosey coworkers will be along any minute, I'm sure, he logical part of my brain told me we needed to break contact now, but part of me wanted Sean to sit and hold my hand for while. "Did anyone call my parents?"

He shrugged. "Probably, but no one is telling us anything." He locked our fingers together, bringing my hand to his lips for a quick kiss.

"So..." I said quietly. "What happens now?"

"What would you like to happen?" We locked eyes. He smiled gently and I knew there was at least one thing we both wanted.

A great many things. I wanted a real date with Sean, not a few random make-out sessions with undertones of fear. I also wanted to one day return to work, but I couldn't have both. I blew out a sigh, letting it last longer than it should have.

Sean leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips and pulled back again. "Better make it last," I said without thinking.

"That's what you want?" I expected a bit of disappointment from him, but he kept his voice level and professional.

"I love my job, current troubles aside. I worked hard to get here. I'd be a fool to throw it away on something that may or may not work." It hurt to say, but I knew it was the right thing. I did love my job and as much as I liked Sean I couldn't be sure of anything with him.

"If I ever transfer offices, maybe...?"

"Maybe," I conceded.

Sean leaned in again and kissed me. His free hand cupped my face and I felt warm all over. If I could have made the kiss last I would have, but it eventually had to break. When he pulled away he let my hand go too.

In the hall I heard a great deal of commotion and my mom's voice shrill with fear. I leaned back into the pillows, hoping to disappear. Sean stepped away from the bed. From a briefcase on the floor, that I hadn't even seen, he began reading off a list of questions off the official BSB incident report. He winked at me as my mom and dad barged into the room to shower me with hugs and kisses.
Eighteen

Bridget blew out a smoke ring. We were seated on the front stoop of the two-flat. Sasha sat next to me, tongue lolling out. My parents were on their way to my house with their grill and food. Jenna planned to stop by too.

The morning after the bar brawl some suits came to my hospital room. They told Bridget her witch's license was not being revoked because Sean had acted as a character witness for her. They told me I would be suspended for a month while they investigated my claims. I had told them the whole story, I omitted nothing. Sean corroborated, stating he'd come to investigate a tip that I was in danger the night of the full moon. I had to answer for my resistant to giving the full story from the start. It helped to tell everyone Angie spelled me. Her file was turned over to the BSB office as evidence, the fake file, and fake Tears went with it. My saving grace was Stevenson. Balicki and Hill questioned him and he squealed, telling them he was bound to a vampire and that vampire wanted me for my information. No one could find Simon or Angie though.

Jessica was in a vampire-proof jail and Bridget and I would both be expected to testify. Bridget had been visited by Simon in the hospital as well. She refused to talk about it.

I slept at my parents' house for safety's sake, but I had come home to grill with Chris.

Bridget sighed, "We should go by Angie's house in a few days, see if she's actually gone."

"Why do you think she bothered to help and then flee like that?"

"I don't know, but that's twice she's been there to save my skin. I guess I owe her again."

"Does the first time she saved you have anything to do with your burn mark?

"In a way, but let's not talk about that right now. I'm going to have nightmares enough without dredging that up. When Jessica and Simon are behind bars for good, we'll talk again."

"I can dig it." Sasha licked my hand to check if I was real. Bridget and I both doted on her.

~*~*~

I couldn't sleep. Not tonight. It had been two weeks. I had received a letter from Simon two days prior. He said Angie put me in danger as a diversion. He'd leave me alone for now. Angie had the Tears and the BSB had the file. He warned me to avoid Angie in the future. If I did I'd stay safe. No problems there. Angie was gone and if she came back I'd scream and stake her.

Outside in my parents' yard the stars shone down on me. I didn't know if Simon was really gone, but I couldn't keep having people drive me everywhere after dark. I knew I ran a risk being out now, but I needed to feel the night air. Needed to assuage my fears. I missed my home. I looked at my cast, admiring the sweet and somewhat lewd things people had written on it. I touched the bandage on my head.

The cool night air got even colder. Angie walked up the driveway toward me.

"Your friend said you fled," I remarked.

Angie put a manila envelope into my good hand. "I'm leaving tonight. I was watching him. Don't worry about Simon. He thinks I went to New York. He headed there."

"Where are you going?"

She didn't say anything to that. "I wanted to stop by and see you and Bridget. You look well enough."

"Thank you for keeping us safe until she got her protection circle up. Though I could have done without you skipping out on us."

The BSB had started combing the area for Angie and Simon. Simon wasn't in the BSB system, he would be a bit harder to find. The donor file ended up being used to help locate Angie. It hadn't proved too helpful. Angie used a different address for each donor. Most addresses ended up being seven-elevens.

"I said I'd protect you in return for you destroying my file. I didn't realize it'd cost you so much in the end. So, to make up for that, the keys to my house are in that package for you, along with some money to help you along until they permit you to return to work. You can stay at the house, throw parties, do whatever, just don't sell it. I'll be back to Chicago someday and I hate staying in hotels."

I looked at the stuff in my hand and then looked back at her. "Take care of yourself."

Angie wrapped cold arms around me. It was the most frigid hug I'd ever been part of. I appreciated that she was trying. "I'm out, Samantha. Don't let Bridget push you around and don't let that Were of yours get any ideas about chewing on your furniture." She broke the hug and walked back out of the gate.

Huh. That was weird.
About the author:

Raised in the suburbs of Chicago, Katie Roman has been many things. Student, band geek, dog sitter, history major, and consummate tea drinker, but above all things she's been a writer.  
Visit her at www.katieromanbooks.com
Also by Katie Roman

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