✶✞ Once upon a time, a very, very long time ago two weeks ago in Jared's life, he read an article about an ambulance spiriting away vampire victims... ✶✞

Off early from work for a fake dentist appointment, and with a double duty of work hours awaiting him for it, Jared walked stiffly through the glass doors of the building the woman had departed from the night before. The lobby was fortified in humorless marble leading up to a thick black slab of counter, behind which sat an equally humorless-looking attendant. To the left, a bank of elevators was locked behind golden metal gates. Jared stood there, the hairs on his arms pricking in the aggressive air conditioning.

What the fuck am I seriously doing here? I am such an idiot.

As he wavered, a man and a woman came in behind him, professionally attired and, judging by the bags they carried, on their way back from picking up a late lunch. He did a double take—one was the woman from last night.

"And the Pryces?" the man was saying. "I thought Frank and Truman's firm turned them away for having no case."

"They have no case," the woman replied. "They have nothing. But put in some paperwork, go through the motions..."

"...bill them for it..."

"...and tell them we did everything we could."

"Too bad. Could've been a real windfall."

"As long as we look better than Frank and Truman. They didn't even try."

The pair moved out of earshot, and Jared stared after them desperately. He hadn't really followed the conversation—he'd been trying to decide whether or not he should interrupt it. Now, with the chance lost, he started toward the elevators after them, slipping sheepishly past the attendant, then stopped short and watched the floor numbers light above the one they had taken. When the lights stopped changing, he called the elevator back down and rode it to the same floor.

The elevator left him in a narrow vestibule with a single door on one side. On the door, the words "JANICE KNIGHT & ASSOCIATES, ATTORNEYS AT LAW" were painted in black on the glass. As he drew nearer, he could see the faint impression of former lettering under "JANICE KNIGHT."

Taking hold of the knob, he drew a deep breath and went in. Across a waiting area, a secretary's desk blocked access to the hall. The woman behind it looked up at him over her tortoiseshell glasses.

"Yes?"

"I, uh..."

As he faltered, a different man than the one he'd seen downstairs emerged from an office off the hall and hurried out of sight.

Jared took a shot in the dark. "I need to see Ms. Knight."

The secretary's eyes lingered pointedly on the faint bruise still visible on his cheek. "She's in meetings all day. Do you have an appointment?"

"Um, no."

"Theeeen you'll need to make one."

"Can I not just see her quickly? This is important."

"As are her meetings. I could perhaps see about getting you in sometime the week after next—"

"This can't wait."

She frowned, her eyes now lingering on his shirt. "You are aware she doesn't usually take pro bono cases?"

"What?"

She shook her head. "What is it about?"

"It's about, uh...it's about the Pryces' case."

"What? How do you know about that?"

"It's important, how soon can I see her?"

She clicked her tongue and pushed a button on the telephone on her desk. A pause, a brief back-and-forth, and she turned back to Jared.

"What's your name?"

"Jared. Um, Stern."

"Come back later. She'll catch a break around 7:30."

"That's...late."

"She's the last one out, six days a week. She's a busy woman. As am I."

"Right..."

Jared retreated from the desk, noting a pair of empty chairs in the corner and, with another look at the secretary, making for the door instead. Without any better plan, he took the elevator back down and found a place outside to sit and keep watch, lest Janice Knight should renege on their appointment, or prove not to be the person he had guessed.

He realized, as he was sitting there, that he was going to miss dinner at Judy's, and got up to find a payphone, hitting the answering machine and leaving another cancellation message. Feeling guilty, he trudged back to the office building and took up position again.

He passed the time paging through The Weiss Diaries, which he was forcing himself to read as much as he could understand of on commutes. Given the effectiveness of water, he wanted all the information he could get on Weiss's garrulous friend. As the sun sank in the sky, he checked his watch more and more often, until he abandoned the book altogether and began pacing the street. At last, it was nearly time, and he headed back inside.

The secretary was gone, and the floor was quiet. Darting glances at the closed doors on either side, he made his way down the hall to the far end and another elevator. Here there was an office with a light on inside. He knocked, rubbing at his arms—the building seemed even colder than earlier. A woman's low voice bade him enter.

Janice Knight, as beautiful as he had found her the night before, sat straight-backed behind a heavy wooden desk with the sunset burning behind her. She cocked her head at him, causing her raven hair to spill back over her shoulder. A silver necklace drew his eyes down to her bosom.

"Mr. Stern?"

"Yeah?"

"Take a seat."

He made for the chair she beckoned him to. It was a bit too near the desk, but the wheels were stuck, preventing him scooting it back without a struggle. He settled himself with his knees pressed up against a metal support bar. The desk, with only a computer monitor, an array of files, and a half-eaten tray of sushi resting on it, was tidy, but the office was not. It was evidently undergoing repainting, and opaque plastic sheeting was laid down across the floor and over the bookshelf, weighted with paint cans and brushes.

"Don't mind the mess," Knight began. "Now what's so urgent? You said it was something about the Pryce case?"

"Uh...yeah, I...said that." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually it's, um...I came to warn ya."

"Come again?"

Jared shot a look out the window, where the sun was already reduced to a red sliver. If he couldn't convince her before she went out tonight...

"There's uh—there's someone following ya. Someone dangerous."

The suspicion left her face as a shadow of unease settled on it. "A...a pale man? Dark hair, intense eyes?"

"Yeah! You've seen him?"

"Is he something to do with you?"

"No! I mean, I just know cuz I'm keeping an eye on him."

Her eyes narrowed again. "Because he's 'dangerous.'"

"Yeah."

She stood up. "Dangerous how? Are you reporting criminal activity?"

"No, I—I can't prove anything."

"Prove? But you suspect something?"

Jared hesitated. "Look, I—I got no evidence, but...I know he's a murderer."

"Hold that thought."

She went to the door, throwing a glance down the hall before closing it behind her. On returning to the desk, instead of brushing past him, she stopped at his side. Her cobalt eyes bolted him to the spot. Even had he been standing, she'd be taller than he was.

"A murderer?" she murmured. "And you think...I'm in danger?"

Poised so close, she smelled faintly floral, fruity, sweetly spicy. Flustered, Jared opened his mouth to respond, but was arrested by a compound click.

He looked down in amazement.

She had handcuffed him to the bar on the desk.

"What...what?"

Knight, who had stepped out of reach, didn't dignify this with a response, but pulled out a cell phone, flipped it open, and began pressing buttons.

"Hey, you gotta listen to me—I'm not crazy, I swear!"

She didn't look up. "Well I wouldn't go that far. But I know you're telling the truth."

"...what? Then, why didja...?"

Her fingers paused on the keypad. "Honestly, why would you think I would let you in here? And listening to your ridiculous story..."

Jared struggled with this. "This was a trap?"

"No, it was a test."

"What?"

"Of course it was a trap."

He wetted his lips. "Whaddaya doing?"

"Making a call."

He started as the cell phone began to ring.

In a matter of seconds, the ringing stopped. Knight, very deliberately, pressed a button, then raised the phone to her lips, her eyes locked on Jared's. "K," she said. "You're on speakerphone."

"Angel!" Christian Keen's jubilant voice buzzed over the line. "Is he there?"

"That is why you're on speakerphone."

"Does that mean he can hear me?"

"Yes..."

"You're a doll! Red, are you listening?"

Jared felt a bead of sweat trace its way down his jaw.

"Now don't be coy. I'll be right up. Try to behave yourself until I get there, won't you? She can be"—he broke into a short laugh—"cruel."

The call disconnected. Knight snapped the phone shut and went back behind her desk.

"How long till he gets here?"

She ignored him, settling in behind her computer.

"Hey! You seriously gonna fucking feed me to him? I came here to warn ya!"

Still, she ignored him.

"You can't—we're in fucking office building! Hey! You fucking psycho!"

She replied without looking up. "If you think you're the first man to be flinging obscenities at me in my office, you're sorely mistaken."

"I...I'll shout."

"That also would not be a first. Upstairs and downstairs are clear at this hour." She looked up. "But you aren't really such a pussy, are you?"

"Wh—what?"

"Well just in case, the cleaning woman has lately established a taste for death metal. Unfortunately, she was given the night off, but..." She reached under the desk, hefting up a boombox and planting it on the surface, her fingers playing on the play switch. "Scream, little girl. No one will hear you."

Jared stared at her. "What are you? I mean a vampire I get, sure, but...if you're really human..."

Knight laughed and leaned forward, plattering her chin on a palm. "Hm. I start to see it, what he sees in you. You're so naïve. It's adorable."

Suddenly regretting her attention, he turned his to the handcuffs. They looked discouragingly sturdy. A tiny keyhole mocked him.

"What's your move, hm?" She tilted her head. "Can you pick locks?"

Jared couldn't. Now ignoring her, he gave an experimental tug on the cuffs. They cut into his wrist and clattered against the metal bar of the desk. There wasn't enough space to get a finger in to pry at them. Folding in his thumb, he squeezed the bones of his trapped hand together with his free one, pulling as hard as he could bear against the steel ring.

"Ratcheted tight enough for you?" Knight gave him a thin smile. "You do have small hands... But break your bones, if you like. You won't get free."

He could see that, and yet, he had to do something. His eyes raked the room, catching on her computer monitor. If he threatened to smash it?

Her smile widened. "Do your worst. The hard drive's in another room."

He wasn't sure what this signified, but it didn't sound promising. He turned his attention to the desk instead. Maybe the bar could be shaken loose? He grabbed the rail and heaved.

"Oh good! I was afraid you really were a pussy."

Redoubling his efforts, he strained at the metal bar, planting a foot on the side of the desk and pulling with both hands. Knight crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, hands clasped behind her head. The wry amusement in her eyes caused him to wonder, suddenly, if he was the first to be trussed here.

The foot still on the floor lost traction, almost toppling him, and looking down he saw the painter's plastic. A coldness billowed in his chest. The color of the paint in the buckets by the wall was a deep, rusty red.

Meanwhile the metal bar wasn't budging. But there was one thing that had changed—the quality of the light in the room. The shadows of the skyscrapers had long since melted into the darkening streets, and the last of the day was draining from the office.

He took his foot from the wood and dug his heels into the plastic carpet. Bending his knees and hefting the desk by the bar, he just managed to get two of the legs clear of the floor. In this position he strained backward, his own leg burning, heaving the mahogany behemoth away with him.

Knight, who had scooped the boombox off into her lap, watched impassively as the desk left her, the computer's cord pulling from its socket and snaking to the floor.

His efforts impeded by the chair he'd been sitting in, Jared inched the desk backward across the room to barricade himself in the corner. He let it drop and leaned, panting, against the wall.

"Cute." A split-second frown flickered across Knight's face. She stood up, her eyes flicking to the far wall, where a purse hung on a hook, then started after him.

Jared thrust his free hand into his satchel. Rummaging out a stake, he brandished it at her.

Knight sneered at him. "What are you doing with that? I'm not a vampire."

"Yeah? Just a wannabe vampire? What are ya, his girlfriend?"

She seemed to find this unduly funny. "My god, you are an idiot."

As she started to move forward again, he slashed the air between them. "Stay back!"

Her eyes narrowed. "You haven't got the guts."

"Try me."

The door opened.

Christian Keen, immaculate in tailored suit and tie, surveyed the scene before him like a child on Christmas. "Ohhh, Janice. You shouldn't have."

Knight looked at him, brow furrowed, about to speak, when his eyes fixed on the stake in Jared's hand.

He turned to her. "He still has his weapons."

"You...think things like that are pesky? He's shackled to a desk. Surely you can handle him."

"I'm not complaining. But knowing you, I should have expected different treatment."

Her frown soured. "And knowing you, this is what you get. Just kill him this time. You already botched the tarp."

He scowled. "It's been a trial on his trail." As he turned back to consider Jared, his grin restored. "At any rate he doesn't have his water-thrower."

Jared wrenched his sweaty wrist against the cuffs until his nerves flared in protest. "I was just thinking," he said, "I've been too hard on ya. Thought you could use a little handicap."

Keen threw back his head and laughed. "If you're half as desperate as that pun it must be serious. Would you excuse us, Janice doll? That is...unless you'd like to watch."

"Oh please. I'm not a girl anymore." Pursing her lips, Knight threw a last glance around the office, her eyes running over the desk and computer.

He waved a hand at her. "Not to worry. I'll reimburse you any damages."

Her expression resolved into annoyance. "I've delivered. I expect more than reimbursement. Whether you can handle him or not."

"Ye of little faith," he returned, raising an eyebrow as she retrieved her briefcase and purse.

"Wrap the corpse in the plastic when you're done with it and take it down by the service elevator. Here's the key."

He caught it deftly.

"Call me when it's down. Your cleanup crew will get it from the dumpster."

Keen grinned. "Garbage truck night, is it?"

Knight's eyes caught Jared's bulging ones. "It'll be too late for the ambulance."

He'd barely had time to process this when she'd brushed past the vampire and reached the door.

"I've canceled the cleaning shift, but leave enough time for yours. You have the floor until dawn."

Keen looked back at Jared, clawing at the cuffs. "He won't last that long."

She clicked off the lights as she left.