Blood Ties

Unfinished Business

Vicky

Henry and I were on another stake out. It was your normal, everyday cheating husband; nothing supernatural about it, nothing even all that exciting. We sat in his car, listening. This guy had more class than most others we'd seen. He used fake credit cards to buy a hotel room. Nice paper trail. Henry sighed audibly.

"What?" I asked.

"This stake out isn't as much fun as our others." He complained.

"Oh, grow up." I replied, rolling my eyes. I couldn't hide a playful smile.

His lips curled into a grin and he leaned in, his hand brushing my hair.

"Oh, but I am grown up."

My breathing grew heavier and he smiled at my accelerated heartbeat.

"See?" he said, "Isn't this fun?"

His hand lingered on my cheek. I felt my face flare. His hand was cool and soft. Goodbye common sense or any coherent thoughts. I closed my eyes and felt his breath on my cheek. His lips brushed my skin and I turned to face him. It was as if we hadn't even touched. I heard him chuckle and I opened my eyes to see him leaning against the window.

"That," I said, struggling to control my breathing, "Was not very nice."

"I got the impression you rather enjoyed it."

I glared at him. He just smiled back, his white teeth gleaming in the dark. I swallowed hard, hoping my pulse was slowing down.

"So what are we supposed to be looking for?" He asked, never taking his eyes off me.

"You mean aside from your personal amusement? Just your standard cheating husband; something nice and easy, and maybe just a tad bit relaxing."

"Your heartbeat doesn't sound very relaxed."

I looked over at him, still smiling.

"Well, if you would only stay on your side of the car…"

"My side? So now we've reverted to elementary behavior. I'm glad to see we're making progress."

I smiled at him and glanced up at the hotel room where our wonderful Mr. Baker was staying. On our wiretap, I heard them saying something, but I couldn't quite make out what it was. I leaned closer to the speaker that I'd brought, straining to hear.

"He's asking her if she wants him to walk her out to her car."

"Say yes, say yes," I whispered to myself, forgetting Henry was listening as well.

"Get the camera ready Vick, they're coming out."

I grabbed the camera and sure enough, out came the happy couple. I snapped a few that would be beneficial to my client.

"Okay Henry, we're done here. Can you drop me back at the office?"

I turned to look over at him and realized he was quite close. My breath caught.

"All done? Are you sure Vicky?" he said, nearly whispering.

"Henry," I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. He was so close. Our bodies were nearly touching, but he kept himself just far enough away. His face was close to mine and I was unsure of what might happen. His eyes held mine; I was unable to look away. He gave me a crooked smile that sent my heart racing. What was wrong with me? He's a vampire for Pete's sake! There was no controlling anything right now. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I forced my hands to stay at my side. He moved closer, slowly and gently until I was breathing his air. This is what I wanted. I was ready. I closed my eyes and kept still. I could feel his cool skin touching mine.

"Vicky, you are so very unpredictable." He whispered in my ear. He chuckled again and sat back in his seat, pulling the car out onto the street. I focused on two things, controlling my breathing and looking at the pictures I had taken.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face." I said to him.

"Oh come on Vicky. You have to admit, that wasn't half bad."

"You've had too many years of experience. It's not fair how you can just do one thing and turn my brain…"

His eyes had a dark, playful twinkle to them. I tried to ignore it. His masculine features were overly pronounced in the dark lighting. From the rugged jaw line to the pronounced cheekbones, it's unfair how good-looking he was.

"Vicky, it's rude to stare," he said, a mischievous tone in his voice.

"Don't flatter yourself." I retorted.

"You sure know how to boost someone's self confidence."

"You have enough to share with the world."

The rest of the drive was quiet and it wasn't long until Henry was telling me goodbye and that he'd see me tomorrow. I walked into my office and plugged in my camera. The pictures downloaded and I deleted them from the camera before printing them. Call me paranoid, but I don't like keeping pictures on anything except my hard drive. I must have fallen asleep because when my eyes opened next, Coreen was staring at me with a folder. She put it next to me and I sat up, putting my glasses on.

"Mrs. Baker-"

"Has the pictures. She stopped by earlier this morning and I saw them printed out. I wouldn't have come to wake you if it wasn't urgent. There's a woman here to see you. She says her name is Bethany Martinez."

I fixed my hair a little and threw a Tic Tac in my mouth to cover up my bad breath. Bethany came into the office and sat down. She was a pale woman, petite. She had long, thick brown hair and crystal blue eyes. Her features were nice and she seemed very sweet. In her eyes I saw something familiar. Fear. Terror.

"What can I do for you Ms. Martinez?"

"All of my classmates are dying. And I'm next."

Now, in my profession, when someone says that, you're supposed to tell the police. Well, that's what a normal private investigator would do. My cases are usually a little difficult for the police force to believe, so I keep them to myself. It was quickly becoming par for the course to hear the words 'demon', or 'vampire', or 'invisible killer' in my sentences these days. My how things change.

"Okay. Can you give me a list of names?"

Here she pulled out an old yearbook and flipped open to her class page.

"All of the names with dashes next to them are dead. There are only a few of us left."

I glanced down the list and froze in the C category. Mike Celluci. I mumbled to myself. I took down a few of the names that were unmarked and promised Bethany I'd check them out and talk to them.

"So, Bethany, do you have any idea who is doing this? Who would methodically go through your entire class and kill them off, one by one?"

"I'm not sure Ms. Nelson. All I know, is Gloria called me two days ago and told me she had seen George. I told her that was impossible, because George was dead. Yesterday I get a phone call telling me Gloria is dead."

"Who is this George?" I asked, my curiosity peaked.

"He was the nerdy kid in our class. The day before graduation, the janitor found him dead in the indoor pool. No one really knows what happened to him. Everyone made fun of him, sure, but no one would want to kill him."

"Just one more question before you go, there's a name at the top of the list that was skipped. Emma. Who is she?"

"She was George's only friend. I don't know where she is right now."

"Ok. Thank you for coming in. I'll call you if I find anything."

"Thank you Ms. Nelson."

I looked over the names again and wrote them out on a pad of paper. I began looking for their addresses. After I wrote those down, I took the yearbook and went down to the station to see if I could dig anything up. I was on my fourth or fifth victim when Mike came up.

"Vicky, where did you get this?" he said, ripping the book from my hand.

"My client gave it to me." I said, dismissing his inevitable questions. He threw the book down on the desk I was working at and stormed off. I didn't find reports on all of the deaths, but most were caused by blood loss. Almost every person had bruising around the neck, but that wasn't the strange thing. All of their blood was on the floor and pictures showed it had come from their eyes, ears, nose and mouth. People cut into tiny pieces, I could handle. Crazy bleeding from everywhere? Not so much. I took a cab to Henry's place and went up to his room, folders in hand. I knocked on his door, a mere formality.

"It's open," I heard him say. I pushed the door open and looked around me. It was only midday, but it seemed like the middle of the night. His place always smelled… it was impossible to describe. Familiar, perhaps? I looked around for Henry and jumped when I saw him on the couch. His shirt of deep crimson fell lazily around him, unbuttoned and forgotten. He looked comfortable, relaxed. He had a sketchpad in one hand and a black pencil in the other. I glanced over and noted the page was blank.

"Just the sort of inspiration I was looking for." He said with a smile, not moving. "Have a seat. What brings you here Vicky?"

Hmm, where to start?

"I have a client who needs our help."

"Our?"

"Well, she hired me, but by hiring me, she hired you as well. So yes, our. Anyway, a woman by the name of Bethany Martinez came to me today and told me her entire class was being killed."

"Class?"

"Graduating high school class. Here's her year book." I said, tossing it to him. He flipped through it and looked back up at me.

"Mike's on this list."

I nodded.

"Which means he's involved somehow."

I nodded again.

"He freaked when he saw me with it today. I went down to the station to see what I could find on all the deceased victims."

"And?"

"They all bled to death."

"Isn't that original."

"I'm going to go talk to one of the people on this list. A Kevin Jonson."

"Are you asking me to come?"

"Only if you want to."

"Well, I do break in faster than you."

"Only because I'm human."

He smiled at our banter. It was one of my favorite things about him. He could dish it out as much as I could.

"Sun should be down soon. We'll leave after that."

"And what am I supposed to do until then?"

"Sit right there, I'm not done drawing yet."

He sat up, his shirt fluttering slightly. His smooth skin was stretched over fine muscles. Why am I thinking like this? I'm still not sure.

"Something else that's interesting," I said, eager to break the silence. "One of their classmates, George, was found dead, the day before graduation at the school's indoor pool."

"Killed or suicide?"

"Bethany didn't know. But I bet you Mike does."

"Do you really want to bring him into this?"

"He is in this Henry. He's on the list. What's your beef with him anyway?"

"I was never a huge fan of beef."

"Henry."

He sighed, trying to avoid the subject. This was a sore spot for both of them. I had to squeeze it out of one of them sometime.

"Because, he clearly has feelings for you."

"What?"

Talk about coming out of left field.

"He's dating Kate." I said, rolling my eyes and sitting back, resting my head on the couch.

"That doesn't mean he wouldn't drop her in a heart beat if you showed a little interest."

"No." I denied. "Henry, he couldn't possibly…"

I looked up and his eyes showed the truth I didn't want to hear.

"What the heck am I supposed to do now?"

"Do whatever you were doing before. If you don't feel the same way, just be like you always have been. But if you do, he needs to know."

I remained quiet. In an instant Henry was beside me, not as close as in the car, but still close.

"Vicky, how do you feel about Mike?"

"I. We. He's like a brother to me. He's one of the best friends I have. I'd do anything for him."

He seemed satisfied with my answer.

"The sun's almost down. We should get going."

It always made my head spin how quickly he could change gears. I followed him out to his car and I told him the first address that we were going to stop at. We pulled in the driveway and I could see him tense.

"Henry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. You said the victims all bled out, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I can smell the blood. I think I might stay here. If I'd known this person would have bled out already, I would have fed."

"If I'd known he would be dead, I'd have called Mike. Will you be ok out here? I have to go call Mike."

"Vicky, can't you just call Mike here and we come back later?"

"Why don't you want me to go in there?"

"I'd just feel better about it if I went with you."

"Well either you go in and resist the urge to lick the floor or I go in alone. Either way, I'm going inside that house."

"I know. Just wait a second." He mumbled as he exited the car.

We walked in together and I made him wait for me to pick the lock. For once, he didn't argue about him jumping in from an upper window. We walked inside and saw the body quickly. I walked around it and knelt down beside it.

"Wait," Henry said. "I smell something."

"Gee, could it be all the blood saturated in the carpet?" I mocked.

"Something else. Something like… dead fish. Or rotting flesh. Or a little bit of both."

"Where is it coming from, can you tell?"

"As far as I can tell, it's coming from the body."

"He can't have been dead for more than a few hours. He's still warm." I walked around the corner into the office area. The computer was still turned on and there was an email up on the screen. It read: "Hello. My name is George Turner. I died the day before I graduated. No one cared about me and everyone made fun of me. Except for Emma Wade. Everyone in my graduating class is dying. They all are dying because they don't send this to ten other people. If you don't, I will come to your house and strangle you myself. You have twenty-four hours."

Posted underneath the small paragraph was a photo of presumably George and Emma. I looked up at the time the email was received. It was received just over twenty-eight hours ago.

"Henry, I think we have a vengeful ghost on our hands."

"That's great. Can we leave now?"

I looked over at him, leaning against the wall, turned away from the blood. I could see he was struggling. I walked as quickly as I could, calling Mike as we walked out to the car.

Henry

I drove her home and then parked my car at my place. I decided to take a bit of a walk, having a lot on my mind. Between Vicky and my serious need for blood, I had a few problems. I allowed my mind to wander, knowing what direction it would go. I had seen more history than historians could dream about. Still, after all this time, I'm still conflicted over this woman. I caught myself thinking that maybe... I needed to shock myself back into reality. Fast. I stopped walking, looking around. I stood at a dark bridge, cars driving by quickly. I glanced down at the water. It looked cold. I inhaled deeply and stood up straight. I jumped off the side and plunged into the frigid water. The instant shock was exactly what I'd wanted. Even being dead as long as I have, I was not expecting the sudden intensity of the cold. I was forcing my body to relax, to just drift when I heard my name.

"Henry! Henry!" she called. I sighed. My eyes shot open when I heard a plunge close to me. I forced myself upright and began threading water, searching for her

"Vicky. Go home. I'll be fine." Her heartbeat was coming closer. I could feel my control slipping. Not here. Not now. Not her.

"Henry, you jumped. You nearly gave me a heart attack. We need to get you home." She said, pulling me out of the water. Her arm brushed against my bare skin and I shuddered, the scent of her nearly overwhelming me. I held my breath and gritted my teeth.

"Vicky, please."

"Henry, you'll catch your death out here."

"I already am dead!" I snapped. I moved away quickly. I stopped when I heard her heart falter from the cold. Her body couldn't quite cope with it the way mine could. I clenched my fists and turned slowly, keeping my distance. Her eyes were wide. I realized that I was shaking. She stepped forward. I stepped back. I wanted to run.

"Henry, please you're shaking." this was not helping.

"I'll be fine." I managed to stammer.

"Not dressed like that you won't. Now come on, off with the wet shirt. Take the jacket."

I looked down at my white button down. I glanced at my blue fingers. Even vampires have issues with frozen extremities. After the third try, I looked up at her.

"If you want me to take this off, you'll have to do it yourself."

"Oh, Henry, are you that desperate?"

I smiled.

"No, just frozen." my smile grew wider as her heart accelerated.

"Vicky," I whispered. "You should really slow your heart down. It's getting loud." her blush was worth the frozen hands.

I tried to ignore the hunger that chose that moment to make itself known again. The strain of the cold and the blood was taking a toll on me.

"Vicki, try to calm yourself. Please." I almost choked on the last word. Her blood was singing to me.

"Henry what's wrong with you?" I really didn't want her to know the extent.

"I'm just a little hungry."

If anything, her heart sped up. I had to take another step back.

"Like... get me a rare steak hungry? Or you look yummy hungry?" Her voice was amazingly calm. Her eyes grew wide at my silence. Again, the heart sped up. By now, I could hear the blood pulsing through her veins. There was a gentle hum to it. It was definitely something I've never experienced before. It was indescribable. It was like I could sense everything about her. No human could ever understand the feeling of being a vampire on the hunt. Except maybe the hunted.

"Vicky, you should go. Thanks for the jacket. I'll drop it by later. I just... need to eat." I turned around and began to walk away.

"Ooh no you don't." she said, coming after me. The hum grew louder. She didn't know what she was doing. The heat of her hand through the thin cloth seared my skin. I felt her pulse beating in time with her heart. I smelled the sweetness of her skin. I saw the veins and arteries in her neck. I closed my eyes. My words came out in a hiss. "Vicky, step away. Now."

Now, she was scared. Finally. I walked away, ignoring her calls after me. I walked as far as I could but I could still hear the hum from Vicky's blood. I heard people all around me, lots of pulsing blood. It was like an orchestra of hunger.

No matter where I went, I could hear Vicky's blood calling to me. I had tasted it once, after all. The bond between us was there. To any other vampire, she would simply have been prey. But not to me. There was a boundary there that I couldn't cross. I closed my eyes and breathed in. I could smell blood everywhere. I wandered the city for nearly an hour. The cold from the river had started to wear off, but I was still hungry. I heard a heartbeat approach from behind me. A dirty hand tugged at my jacket. I spun around, snarling.

"Sir - do you have some -" the man didn't get to finish. His proximity, the pulsing of his blood - it was too much to bear. And no one would miss him. Of course, he wasn't my type, but beggars cannot be choosers. My teeth plunged into his neck. The slightly metallic, sweet taste of his blood filled my mouth. I gave myself to the hunger. The man's eyes were glazed as I pulled away. Two pinpricks of blood decorated his neck. His skin was pale and he was shaking. It would be so easy to finish him off, slake my thirst. He mumbled something. I tried to catch what he said. "-not your fault." His eyes fluttered shut. His pulse was weak but still present. I smelled his blood all around me... but underneath it, I could smell Vicky. My eyes widened and I shoved the man's body away. I shot to my feet, still shaking. Vicky's face appeared in my mind. Her disgust. I was a monster to all but her. It was my nature to kill... but I couldn't...

I sank to the ground near an old tree and lay there, shuddering and still hungry.

I leaned against the tree, gasping for air. I saw a dog across the street, digging in a garbage can. Lovely. Being a beggar sucks. I waited for the dog to come my direction. I pet it for a little while, then sank my teeth in. It wasn't as sweet as human blood. Definitely greasier. But it was blood all the same. I buried the dog's body next to the tree. Now that I wasn't as hungry, I could think clearly. I could tune out the sound of Vicky's heart. I stood up a little too quickly and almost fell over the tree root. There's a reason vampires prefer human blood. Animal blood... just isn't as healthy. It felt like dirt in my body. Dog's blood is probably to vampires what extremely greasy vampires are to humans. Nauseating. I barely made it home before I collapsed on the couch and curled into a ball. So what if it made me look vulnerable. It felt like I was coming apart from the inside out and I needed to hold everything in. My vision blurred and my skin felt hot. I rolled off the couch and stretched out on the floor. I've lived on animal blood before. Rats, actually. And I knew what was coming next. I waited patiently for the warm feeling to crawl up and out. I breathed slow, measured breaths. I stumbled to my bathroom and collapsed on the floor, sweating. My hands groped around for something to vomit into. As I proceeded to heave into the toilet, I heard a familiar heartbeat coming up to the door. Perfect. She was going to freak out. After I purged the filthy blood, I'd be right as rain. I sighed. It could take a few hours for the blood to be completely out of my system. Until then, she was just going to deal with it.

I heard her knock on the door before she pushed it open. I hadn't locked it. Her heart sped up again. She was worried, stressed.

"Henry? Where are you?"

I got to my feet and leaned against the bathroom doorway. My hair was plastered against my forehead. "Right here," I said. Then promptly sat down on the floor. She came over and sat next to me, only a hint of hesitance in her actions.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She felt my forehead with her hand. "You're burning up."

I managed to laugh. "Indigestion."

"What from?"

"A dog."

"A dog? You ate a dog?"

"It was necessary."

"Why?"

I looked away, the whole event replaying in my mind. The old man, her disappointed face. I couldn't tell her. I refused.

"So. Anything on this crazy new case of yours?"

"Oh, you're not going to change the subject on me." She put my arm around her and dragged me to my bed. I hate feeling helpless. Especially after so many years of being superior.

"Can't I?" I groaned as she sat me on the bed like I was a little child. Not that I minded having her in my bed. Not at all. I lifted my hand to her hair and stroked it. Her heartbeat sped up and I smiled. Her face was turned away from me, so I just kept playing with the strands. She was trying to ignore me, but I was winning. I could tell. When a girl's heart starts going at the speed of light, it definitely means something.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

"Just fine." I said, running my hand down her arm.

"You're still burning up."

"It will pass."

"Henry," she said, turning to me with a serious face. "Henry, why did you eat a dog?"

"Beggars cannot be choosers. I was desperate."

"Henry, why won't you tell me the truth?"

My hand, again playing with her hair, stopped.

"And what makes you think I'm lying?"

"Your eyes. I can see there's something you don't want to tell me."

I sighed and lay down, putting my hands on my chest. Why did I feel this need to protect her, to keep her safe?

"Henry?"

"Well, if you must know. It's you."

"Your reason for eating a dog is me?"

"After we visited the house with the dad man, I was conflicted and very hungry. I jumped into the cold water to clear my mind. It also helped me control my hunger. But when you jumped in, I could hear your heartbeat. I was prepared to wait you out, but then your heart faltered from the cold." I paused, unsure if I wanted to tell her about the hum of her blood, or the way it called to me. I chose to leave it out for now. "Since I needed to feed, I walked around a lonely part of town. An old homeless man unfortunately happened upon me."

"Where does the dog come in?"

"I needed more. It was a stray dog. I did bury it, if it makes you feel better."

"You didn't kill the old man." A statement. I remained silent. "Why didn't you finish him?"

Her cell phone rang. Saved by the bell. I heard the sound of Mike's voice on the other line. I turned away to give Vicky a little privacy, but it's hard with my sense of hearing. I tried to formulate a way to get around the current topic. Bye the looks of things, the topic had already dropped. She put her phone back in her pocket and stood quickly. I sat up, fighting back the urge to vomit.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Bethany, my client, was just found dead in her car. You're not coming with me."

"Who will keep you from hurting yourself?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Mike's there. I'm a witness. Probably one of the last people to see her alive.

"Well then, call me if anything interesting comes up. Smell her computer."

I smiled at the face she made.

"Remember, it'll be faint, but nasty."

She walked out my door quickly, phone in hand.

"Hi Coreen…"

Vicky

I couldn't get Henry's face out of my head. He looked a little pale and a lot sick, but that wasn't what bothered me. I couldn't figure out what bothered me… except maybe the way he was hiding something. It couldn't have been good.

I felt a little guilty leaving him there on his bed. Just as I left the room I saw him curl into a ball. I think he tried to hide it from me, but I'm not that blind. Or maybe I am. Anyway, Mike needed me more.

I got to the crime scene and felt strangely relieved that I hadn't brought Henry with me. This victim, Bethany, had had the strength to get to her phone as she died. The carpet was soaked with her blood. The last crime scene had been spotless compared to this. I could barley recognize her. I tried to ignore the stench of the dead body and find a computer. Sure enough, in the back seat, was her laptop. I asked one of the investigators to open it up for me. On the screen was the same email the other victim had gotten. I looked over at Mike, who looked distracted.

"Mike, what's wrong?"

"I knew her. Bethany. She was in my-"

"Graduating class." I finished.

He looked up at me, that familiar determination in his eyes.

"Vicky, what's going on here?"

I gauged whether or not he'd believe me.

"Vengeful spirit. He's attacking his whole class. Except for a girl named Emma. Do you know where she might be? I need to speak with her."

"Emma? I-I don't know. Why do you need to talk to her? And why are you asking all the questions?"

"Because Bethany was my client."

"Oh, your client." Mike made the word sound dirty. I didn't think he'd gotten entirely used to my cases. Or he had and he refused to acknowledge it.

"Yes, she came to see me about a string of deaths."

He was about to say something, but we heard a crash. We both turned to see Henry stumble over to us. He was about halfway when he turned and ran to a trashcan and threw up.

"What's wrong with Sabertooth?"

"Bad drinks."

"I didn't get any calls last night."

"That's because there was no reason for one." Mike eyed me cautiously. Of course he thought I was covering for Henry. Considering I didn't even know what was going on, I wasn't really lying. He came over to us then.

"The laptop smells the same."

"I didn't smell anything." I said.

"Mike," he said, redirecting his attention. "Have you gotten any strange emails lately?"

"Would you know anything about that?"

"Other than that it means your marked?"

"Marked?" we asked at the same time.

"Vengeful spirits usually stick around because they want something. Usually it's justice." Henry explained. His blue eyes went from Mike, to me, and back to Mike. "It marks its targets with that email."

"And we always thought chain letters were phony." Mike mumbled.

"Mike, he's coming after you next."

"How do we get rid of a vengeful spirit?" I asked, oddly unphased by the topic of our conversation.

"The surefire way is to salt and burn the corpse."

"He was cremated." Mike said in a daze.

"Then he has to be attached to something. Spirits can't just stay here. The need something to hold them. Usually it's a physical piece of them or something that became a part of them."

All three of us stood quiet for a moment. Coreen called, breaking the thoughtful silence.

"Hi Coreen, what do you have?"

"Well not a lot. All I could find out about George's death is that he had bruises on his neck and something about the pool. After his death, it was drained and closed, and it's still empty.

"Thanks Coreen."

I hung up and looked straight at Mike.

"Mike, what really happened to George?"

"He drowned?"

"I know he didn't strangle himself first. Were you involved?"

"No." He paused. "But I didn't tell either."

"Tell about what?" Henry asked, leaving his 'charm' out of the question.

"The football team was the worst when it came to George. They were ruthless. The night he died, I had gone back to get a book from my locker. I heard them in by the pool, so I went to see what was going on. I saw them holding him by the neck. He passed out and they dropped him. He fell into the pool unconscious. He didn't even have a chance. When they realized I'd seen everything, they made a very 'persuasive' argument and convinced me to say nothing. Until I saw you with that yearbook, I hadn't even thought about any of them."

Henry looked instantly concerned.

"He's attached to the pool."

"How the heck am I supposed to salt and burn a pool?"

"There might be another way. Sometimes, spirits have weaknesses. Was there anyone who befriended him? Someone who stood up for him?"

"Emma." Mike said without hesitation.

I had a sudden frightening thought.

"Mike. How long ago did you get that email?"

"This morning."

Henry swore and turned away.

"Is there a way to keep him safe?" I said, walking around to face him. "At least while I try to figure out how to get rid of him?"

"I'll keep him at my place. I can protect him there."

"Hey, I'm still here. And I can take care of myself."

"All of the people he's killed so far were alone." I said, eyeing him seriously.

"Fine. I'll stay with Fitzroy."

His tone made Henry laugh. I rolled my eyes.

"Mike, just don't shoot him."

I didn't really want to hear what either of them might have said, so I took that opportunity to leave. I took a cab to my office where Coreen was looking for Emma. I walked in and heard her talking on the phone. She hung up just as I walked in.

"Emma's on her way here."

"She is? What did you tell her?"

"I told her we needed to talk to her about an unpaid parking ticket."

"Thanks Coreen. Did you find the address for the pool?"

She handed me a small piece of paper. The door burst open and we both turned to see Emma.

"Miss Nelson, what is this all about?"

"I'm sorry to bring you down here like this, but I have some serious questions for you. Please, sit down." I motioned for her to come in. She glared at me and then came in. "Do you remember a boy in your class, a George Turner?"

"He and I were great friends. Why do you ask?"

"He's killing your class."

"But that's highly impossible." She said, but her eyes said she knew something. She knew that he was out and about.

"Emma, you need to tell me what you know."

She hesitated, glancing from me to Coreen.

"He emailed me. He told me he was sorry for the things he had done and in the process of doing. He said he didn't want to hurt me, but that they needed to understand what it was like."

"Emma, we really need your help. You are his voice of reason. We think he'll only listen to you. Will you please come with me?"

"Miss Nelson, you don't know what you're asking. I'm just not sure if I can do this."

"If you change your mind, please call."

Henry

I sat on my couch, flipping through the old yearbook Vicky had left.

"Mike Celluci. Wait." I leaned closer to the book, though my eyesight was perfect. "Are you wearing…glasses?" I tried to stifle a laugh. "You're a little chubby too…"

I looked up to see him glaring at me.

"I'm being forced to stay here, with you, against my will. I don't need to put up with this."

"So leave. Die. At least I'll be here to put Vicky back together."

He stood quickly. I sat back, relaxed.

"Why so defensive detective?"

"You have no right. You're not even human."

"And being inhuman takes away what right exactly?"

"To love."

Amazing. His ideals and theories were incredible. I could feel my anger begin to boil.

"So, just because I'm not human, I can't have human emotion?"

"How could you possibly know?"

"I died for love. And gladly would again."

The words slipped out. I instantly regretted them. The secret I've been guarding so carefully just came out in a blur. Maybe Mike hadn't noticed. He did.

"You would again? Is that in a 'if I could redo the past' kind of thing or… no. You would now. You love her."

"Don't you?"

"I'm with Kate," he said, after a pause. Interesting. The exact same thing Vicky had said.

"That's an excuse, not an answer. Do you love her? Simple yes or no."

"Only if you answer it too."

"Yes. I love her. But she can't know because it's not always safe. And I want her to make her own choices without my influence."

"Can't you just make her tell you?"

"I wish it were that easy. It doesn't work on her. I'd be able to protect her then."

"Oh, because I don't do a good enough job?"

"No, you don't. I'm with her a heck of a lot more than you are."

"I have a job."

"Again with the excuses. You know, you should really write a book of them. You could make some money."

"This is all a joke to you isn't it? Make the cop mad so you can run off with the girl."

"I'm not running anywhere."

"You know what, Henry? Why - why don't you just go color or whatever it is you do?" Mike tossed one of my pens up and down in the air over and over again. He wasn't looking at me as he spoke. I reached over and plucked the pen from his hand before he could toss it again. I sat back against the couch and crossed my arms.

"I would. If I didn't have to baby-sit you." Mike finally looked up at me and glared.

"I didn't want to be here."

"I didn't hear you complaining."

"Well, Vicky -"

"Yes, Vicky." I stood up and faced the wall where the portrait of my father hung. "It always goes back to her doesn't it?"

"Ever gone up against her and actually won?" Mike's voice sounded like a mixture of awe and bitterness. "Have you?"

I tried to ignore the almost Yoda-like syntax of his sentence. He looked almost comical going through the books on my coffee table. Not that it was an actual coffee table, either. I ran a hand through my hair. "Naturally," I said. "Women can't resist my charm and good looks."

He scoffed and I felt a tinge of irritation. "Your problem, Fitzroy, is that you don't know when to stop."

Oh, I knew when to stop. I stop when the pulse has slowed until it's barely perceptible. I stop when the blood stills. "And your problem, Celluci, is that you aren't smart enough to know when to start. You didn't tell Vicky about your connection until it was too late. And now I have to baby-sit you."

"I'll leave."

"It's up to you. You can choose between an avenging spirit or Vicky. Personally, I think I'd rather take the avenging spirit."

Mike slapped the book he'd been flipping through down on the floor.

"What exactly is your problem, Fitzroy? Is the fact that Vicky refuses to be controlled eating away at you? You can't tame a tornado. Even if she's blind."

"I don't control her. I don't try to," I said. "I'd be an idiot to even think it. Oh, sorry, am I insulting you?"

"Don't think you can understand human emotions, vampire. You're hunter. Vicky's prey. Stay away -"

"Funny, it doesn't seem like she wants me to stay away."

"You've fed on her."

"She offered it to me. I was dying."

"I'd rather have you die."

"Then who would save you?" I faced him. "Tell me, can you fight off demons? What do you know of the world Vicky has to live in? Nothing."

"No, but at least I tan," Celluci said with a cold smile. "You shouldn't even exist."

I sighed and looked at my father's portrait pleadingly. "Why do they always have to bring that up? Why?"

"Because you know it's a good point."

"It's also the only one that you have." I opened my mouth to say something else, but the lights began to flicker. I swore. George was here and looking for Mike. Vicky had better be grateful for this.

"Mike, sit on the couch and shut up." I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a few bags of salt. So, I have a few random things lying around my apartment. I can't say it hasn't come in handy more than once. I walked back out to Mike and threw the salt down in a circle around him.

"What the he-"

"Mike. Shut up if you want to see the sun rise."

"Salt?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Sometimes people just don't make sense. I heard Mike's heart speed up unnaturally and I looked around for George. He stood on the edge of the salt, staring at Mike.

"Hey George, you can't get to him." I said, drawing his attention to me.

"No, but I can get you." His deep, creepy voice said.

He approached me, but stopped.

"You're not human."

I rolled my eyes. I swore, if I heard that again, I was going to kill someone.

"Yes, I'm not human."

Mike's cell phone went off, he answered it. So much for staying quiet.

"Vicky, now's not a good time."

"Mike! Hang up!" I yelled to him. He dropped the phone. I was able to catch it before it broke the line of salt, but George was already gone.

"Where'd he go?"

"To find Vicky, you stupid idiot."

"Why Vicky?"

"Because you spoke her name. He heard you. If she dies, I swear to God I'll-"

"You'll what? Eat me?"

"Bring you to the edge of life, to the point where you'll beg me to finish you, then I'll leave you, alive, clinging to life."

"That's awfully dramatic, have you been thinking about it long?"

"Everyday. It's what makes me happy."

"Why don't you just get over yourself! You're not half as good as you think you are."

"Well I'm still twice as good as you."

"You'd like to think so, you inhuman monster!"

"Why can't you come up with something more original? You're beating a dead horse, I know I'm not human. Come up with something else. Please, it's getting old."

We stopped and saw Vicky coming in.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking at both of us.

"Mike was just pointing out how I'm not human. George paid us a visit."

"Thank you so much for helping Mike."

"I'm not helping Mike," I said, glaring at him. "I'm helping you."

"What is going on?"

"Vicky, Henry is-"

"Just very annoyed."

She eyed us, sensing an underlying problem. Sometimes her intuition didn't have very good timing.

"What are you afraid of Fitzroy? Are you afraid I'll tell her?"

I focused on breathing and calming down the overwhelming urge to eat Mike. Vicky wouldn't have been very happy if I had.

"Mike, don't push it." I said through clenched teeth.

"Tell me what Mike? Henry, what's going on?"

It was at that glorious moment her phone rang. I turned away from her to face Mike.

"Are you serious Mike? Do you realize how close you are to death?"

"Not with Vicky here."

"You still sleep with your windows open, detective?"

"How do you know if I sleep with the windows open?"

"I like to walk around, or up."

"You've spied on me?"

"You make it sound dirty. I only like to know the people I work with."

"Do you stop by Vicky's apartment?"

"Nope, she's usually here."

He was breathing pretty hard now. I could hear Vicky talking on the phone in the background. The hum was back, increased by my mood.

"You don't get to love her," Mike said, anger and bitterness dripping off his words.

"So because you can't have her, no one can? Is that how you treat all of your problems, Celluci?"

"You don't get to judge me."

"You're trying awfully hard to control me. I don't get to love her, I don't get to judge you, what do I get?"

"To exist."

"Even though it's wrong."

"Don't twist my words!"

"That's exactly what you said!"

"Why can't you-"

"Stop!" I said. I turned to see an open door. I swore again.

"Vicky!" I yelled after her, though I knew she was already long gone.

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know. I'm going to call Coreen."

"Why not call her?"

"Go for it, I don't think she'll answer."

He walked over to a corner, turning his back to me.

"Hello?"

"Hi Coreen, it's Henry."

"Hi Henry. What can I do for you?" She asked sweetly. I rolled my eyes at her tone. She really wasn't my type.

"I need to know what Vicky's up to. She stopped by and then left and I don't know where she went."

"She went to the pool."

"The pool?! Thanks Coreen."

I hung up before she could say anything else and grabbed my jacket.

"Where are you going?" Mike yelled at me.

"I'm going to go save Vicky, you idiot."

He followed me out the door quickly and we rushed off to his old high school.

Vicky

Whatever was going on with those two, I didn't have time to figure out. Emma had called me and told me she wanted to help. I told her to meet me at the old pool, and I had intended to bring Mike and Henry with me. I had to leave without telling them anything. Hopefully they'd be able to come help. I got to the campus and walked into the pool. It was empty, graffiti everywhere. There were a few dim lights on, giving me a little visibility.

"You must be Vicky." Said a deep voice. I couldn't see where it was coming from, or much of anything.

"George?"

"You're very good. I'm sorry to bring you into this, but killing you will hurt Mike Celluci."

"You don't have to do this. I can put to you rest."

"I'll rest when I'm dead. Oh, wait, I am. Like I said," he was much closer now, I could hear it. "I'm sorry to bring you into this."

I felt my blood boil. Literally. I screamed and fell on the ground. I shut my eyes as tight as I could, though I could feel tears falling down. I knew they weren't real tears, I could almost see myself bleeding out. I heard footsteps running in, but I couldn't see. Everything was red.

"Vicky!"

I heard my name from a familiar male voice, but I couldn't tell who it was. It felt like my ears were full of cotton. I felt cool hands pick me up. I screamed again. Movement was like fire.

"Vicky, it's Henry. I'm here."

"Henry," I whispered, though it came out more gargled than I'd intended. The redness was fading, my hearing getting clearer. I couldn't hold my own head up. I looked up and Henry and tried to smile. I could feel him stroking my hair, holding my head in his lap. Then I could hear what was going on.

"…her go." Mike said.

"Do you offer yourself instead?"

"No he doesn't." said a girl's voice. Emma. I breathed in a shaky breath.

"Just relax Vick. We'll take care of it. Just relax." Henry sounded worried.

"Emma! What are you doing here?"

"George, you need to stop. This isn't right. I can take care of the people that killed you."

"I only have two left. Mike and Andrew."

"Mike can arrest him. We'll take care of it."

"You're not part of this. I didn't hurt you at all. Just go Emma, please."

"You are hurting me George. By killing everyone I grew up with, you're hurting me."

"No. I never wanted to. No!"

"Then let go George. Go rest."

"Do you hate me now?"

"I could never hate you George. I forgive you."

"I forgive you too George." Mike chimed in. My whole body ached.

"Henry, shouldn't you leave?" I whispered, knowing he could hear me.

"Not until I know you're ok. I'm sorry I couldn't be here to help you sooner. Your pain is my fault."

I tried to reach up and touch his face, but my arm didn't get far off the ground. I think he got my point and picked up my hand. He rested it against his cheek, closing his eyes.

"Henry, don't blame yourself. I left without telling you. Thanks for coming after me."

"I'm just glad we were in time."

I pushed myself up, allowing him to help keep my steady. Mike walked over to us and looked me in the eye.

"Vick, I'm so sorry."

"Not you too." I don't think I was feeling up to another tender moment.

"I'm gonna go see if I can find some towels," Henry said, sensing Mike had something else to say.

"Vicky, I just need to know. Henry and I were fighting earlier because of you."

I rolled my eyes. I did not need this right now.

"Mike…"

"Just listen. He said I wasn't there for you enough, that I couldn't protect you the way he could. Is he right?"

"Partly. You have a job that demands your time, energy, and focus. I understand that, I really do. I used to be there. The job I have now demands everything from me. I don't blame you, really."

I closed my eyes. All this talking was starting to make me dizzy.

"Do you love him?"

"Mike! What does that have to do with anything?"

"I just need to know. That's the only reason I'm asking about any of this. We talked a bit when I was at his place. Do you?"

"I'm not sure. I think so."

"What about me?"

"Don't do this Mike. Not now." I looked down at the puddle of my blood on the ground. It didn't look real, as dark as it was.

"I called an ambulance. I want you to get looked at."

"I'll be fine."

"Well? Do you, or could you, love me?"

"Mike, I really don't think so."

He looked away. I saw the pain in his face. We waited silently for the ambulance to come and look at me. Henry was nowhere in sight. I was sure he hadn't left, but I didn't know where he was. I had to fabricate a believable story fast while they bombarded me with questions. Mike eventually stepped in and they let me go home after I promised to take it easy for a few days. I slowly walked out of the building, and paused at the stairs. I gripped the railing and eased myself down. Before my foot hit the second stair, Henry was at my side taking my weight. He almost carried me to his car, but he knew I'd be mad, so he let me walk a little. I sighed and rested against the side of the car before getting in. Henry waited too.

"I'm so tired," I said.

"My apartment is closest, but I can take you home."

"Just ask Henry, I know it's killing you just as bad as it was killing Mike."

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth. I don't think I could work between us."

I looked up at his penetrating eyes that were smiling. Before I could do anything, he was kissing me. I didn't fight, but I didn't have the energy to embrace it either. I think he knew that I tried. My cell phone started ringing and he allowed me to answer it.

"Yeah?"

"If he ever does anything that's even got the hint of being illegal, I'll arrest him and put him in jail."

"Thanks Mike." I hung up and sighed.

"Everything ok?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Mike is just getting on my nerves."

"Want me to eat him for you?"

"I didn't think he was your type."

"I make a few exceptions."

He began walking around to the other side of the car.

"Henry?"

He was back before I finished speaking his name.

"What did you tell Mike? It really rattled him."

"I think you already know." He said. He brushed a strand of hair out of my face, letting his fingers gently touch my skin. He opened the door for me and began to drive.

"So, where did you want me to take you?"

"Somewhere soft," I said, my mind already turning off.

"My place it is then."

I could hear the smile in his voice.