Evyn whipped up two Caramel Mocha Frappés while Bethalie sat at the kitchen table, trying very hard not to look at the human lying on her sofa. So, as a distraction, she glanced around the cavernous space that she called home, feeling herself relax somewhat. This was her haven, her sanctuary. Here she didn't have to worry about what was lurking around every corner, waiting to jump out of the darkness to try and tear her throat open. Here, she was safe.

The loft had been modernized to make it livable, but she'd kept as much of the old character as she could. The aged brick walls had been left as they were, the dark oak floors polished to a high sheen. The kitchen had been put in on the left side of the space and she had worked very hard to decorate it so that it was reminiscent of her Granny's kitchen back home. She had an old fashioned Formica table, white metal cabinets, vintage appliances, complete with a powder pink stove and refrigerator from the 50's, refurbished, of course. 

The living room was off to the right and was filled with ornate, gothic style furniture, which she wasn't a bit ashamed of. She'd been feeling all...paranormal...when she'd decorated that part. There were black, highly carved tables scattered about, an elaborate sofa and chairs done in silk fabrics in shades of lavender and grey, and a very opulent black chandelier hanging low in the center of the space. 

Off to the back was Evyn's office area and her own workout area, consisting of a weight bench, punching bag, work out dummy, and her weapons cupboard. The cupboard was a huge, lavishly carved wardrobe made of ash and stained dark and filled with everything that a Ward would need to take out her targets. And lastly, at each end of the cavernous space was a set of wooden stairs that led up to the sleeping lofts that belonged to her and Evyn. Their lofts reflected their personalities, Evyn's being done in clean, modern furniture, with no frills and no fluff. The woman was all business, even in her sleep. Her own loft was a bit more feminine, with gothic style furnishings and plenty of pillows and lamps and things around. She saw so much ugliness doing her job, she liked to come home and have pleasant, pretty things to look at.

The light drizzle that had been coming down turned into a sudden downpour as Evyn came to the table with their coffees, pounding against the large windows and the tin roof overhead, creating a jarring clatter. Thunder rumbled out over the harbor and even through the brick walls Bethalie could hear the moan of the waves. It was a sad and ominous sound that seemed to fill her with a sense of foreboding.

She and Evyn both sipped their coffee, neither of them speaking, but both casting occasional glances at the man lying paralyzed on the sofa. She could tell by Evyn's tight expression and worried brown eyes that she wasn't overly happy about the situation. And neither was she. But, what could be done? The man had been bitten by a Vampire. He could blow the whistle. He just couldn't be allowed to walk away, no matter their opinion on the matter.

"So, should I tell them now?" Evyn finally asked, clearly wanting to get it over with.

Bethalie's stomach squeezed uncomfortably. She didn't want to do it, but the system was in place for a reason. It wasn't up to them to question it. "We have no choice," she whispered. "My phone is in my coat pocket."

Evyn nodded, getting to her feet and heading out across the space, stopping to grab Bethalie's phone and rifle through the man's pockets in search of his wallet, so that he could be identified. Evyn also snapped a photo of him to document his injuries before going over to her office area, where she would download the photos from the phone and get in touch with The Big Guys. That was Evyn's part of the job, sending messages and photos and doing all the electronic tracking of the targets. Bethalie stayed well out of that part. She only did the killing.

While Evyn clicked away on her computer, Bethalie walked over to the area where her weapons cupboard loomed and began unloading all the gear strapped to her body, putting it all safely away and making sure to reload her .45 clip, replacing the two rounds she'd fired. It was only two silver bullets, but sometimes every bullet counted. Once she was about ten pounds lighter, she went to get her coat from the back of the sofa to make sure all the pockets were properly filled for the next time she went out. Her long coat was sewn from black and silver brocade fabric, only the silver threads running through the brocade were actually made of pure silver. It made the weight of the coat substantial, but it did ensure that any wayward Darksider she was scuffling with couldn't hold onto her for more than a few seconds.

The pockets all checked, Bethalie hung the coat in her cupboard, hoping it would dry out properly, and then piddled around, putting the coffee glasses in the sink and wiping off the kitchen table and otherwise trying her best not to look at the man on the sofa. Evyn was all involved in doing her techie thing, which mostly seemed to consist of staring at her computer screen as if something magickal was flashing before her eyes, so trying to talk to her was out of the question.

Not knowing what else to do, Bethalie went up to her sleeping loft, stripped off her damp clothes and headed to the shower. Her bathroom was an oasis, a totally feminine space done in white and lavender and grey and withholding none of the frills and fluff. There were cushy rugs under foot and a seating area in the corner complete with an overstuffed chair and ottoman done in grey silk and another black chandelier hanging low from the ceiling. The only thing that bothered her about the bathroom was that she didn't get to spend enough time hanging out in it. It really was a soothing and comforting little retreat.

After a good half hour in the steamy shower stall, Bethalie stepped out and grabbed her robe from the door of the towel cupboard, pulling it on and then walking over to the sink to brush out her hair. The reflection she saw in the large, well-lit mirror always seemed to shock her a little. She was 25 years old, but looked much younger. And she favored her Granny so much that it was eerie. But, she wasn't Cornelia. She was Bethalie Sanderson, Ward by birth and by blood. She'd been working at her calling since her twentieth birthday. Five years of putting down those who chose to go against the rules. Yet, it didn't show on her face.

Her pale skin was unlined as of yet, her blue eyes were still clear and bright and showed no sign of wearing down. She had her family's high cheekbones and heart shaped face, as well as the Sanderson hair, which was thick and as black as midnight. Her Granny had the same jet black hair that she always wore waist long, but Bethalie preferred to keep hers shorter, wearing it in a chic, inverted bob that she could pull back away from her face when she was working. She was on the slight side, only 5'4 and a hundred and five pounds, giving her a fragile, harmless kind of look. But, that harmless look was deceiving. Though she wasn't invincible, she could get the job done, bringing down Darksiders three times her size.

Her mother, a Ward who'd decided to forgo her lineage, wasn't pleased when her daughter had gotten the call from the mysterious Powers That Be, announcing that a Ward was needed in Port Angeles, Oregon. Her family knew the call was coming one day and they'd prepared for it, even though they'd hoped she wouldn't go. They'd much prefer that she marry and settle down in some nice, safe neighborhood where all the people drove minivans and there wasn't a Vampire or Demon in sight.

Bethalie couldn't turn down that call, though. Like her Granny, a working Ward for twenty five years, she couldn't ignore her birthright. So, she left her home in the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee and made a new home in Oregon. Evyn had been given to her when she arrived, meant to be her right hand gal, and once they'd set up their home, she'd settled into her life in Port Angeles and the rest, as they say, was history. She hadn't looked back, not even for a second. And she certainly didn't regret not following her parents' dream of settling down and becoming a housewife. Ugh. Baking cookies and raising children just wasn't in her. Just thinking about it gave her the heebies. Of course, denying her parents' dream meant that the Sanderson line would die out with her, but there was nothing she could do about that.

Shaking off her retrospective, Bethalie finished brushing her hair and slathered on a little moisturizer before leaving the bathroom. Stepping out into her sleeping area...she let out a sharp gasp, a painful shockwave rolling through her, sending her reeling backwards a few faltering steps. Sitting across the room, on her bed, was the Vampire she'd left in the back of the utility van! And she was completely unarmed!

Damn!

Instantly, despite the fact that she was weaponless and facing a Darksider who could snap her like a twig, her body went into fight mode, preparing to fall into combat with the intruder. He might take her down, but the bastard was going to have to work for it!

"Calm down, Ward. I'm not here to hurt you," the Vampire stated, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Bethalie's thoughts suddenly flew to Evyn and her heart squeezed. "Evyn! Are you still alive down there!" she called out somewhat unevenly. 

If Evyn was harmed, the smirking Vampire invading her space would be following the girl into the Afterlife, only he'd be doing it in tiny little pieces! And if she couldn't do it barehanded, she'd...she'd chew him to death, if there was no other way!

"I'm good!" Evyn called back. "I let him in so he could talk to you!"

Upon hearing Evyn's voice, Bethalie let out her breath. She hadn't been killed! Thank God! Evyn was her family. It would tear her apart if anything happened to the girl.

Still poised for battle, Bethalie glared at the Vampire who was sitting on her bed. On her bed! "What do you want!" she bit out, anger racing through her, banishing her momentary fear.

"You can relax," he said to her, his tone easy. "As you can see, I didn't harm your girl or the human. I entered your home politely."

The Vampire could easily have gotten in on his own and then killed Evyn and the human. The fact that he'd asked permission to enter was a good sign. However, she had to question Evyn for allowing him entrance without her permission, especially knowing that she was unaware and indisposed.

"What do you want!" she demanded again, highly put off and offended by the presence of a Vampire in her personal space.

"I need to speak with you about the one you just put down," the Vampire answered soberly and she only then realized that his voice was deep and gravelly, but in a way that actually made her insides do a strange little dance.

Well, he could speak all he wanted, but she wasn't coming back. And if he was out for an explanation or an apology then he was going to be disappointed. "There's nothing to talk about. She's gone. So...goodbye," she told him, hitching her thumb toward the loft stairway. When the Vampire made no move to exit her space, she stiffened her spine and tried again. "You can get out the same way you came in. So, beat it."

"I'd prefer to stay with you," he said simply.

Hmmm. That was...odd. But, he was a Vampire, which meant he was prone to being all mysterious and...odd. And now that she wasn't in the heat of battle, she could see just how handsome a Vampire this male was. He had dark hair that hung down in an overly long, choppy cut, enormous hazel eyes that glinted like stars, pale skin, fine bone structure that included high cheekbones, a wide forehead and a square jaw and chin that were covered in a pleasing amount of stubble. He was quite beautiful, having about him that look of someone who...didn't quite belong, which spoke to the fact that he'd been around for a very long time. The older ones always looked out of place.

And apparently he was going to be around for a while longer, because he was refusing to leave her room. And that pissed of her off.

"I'd prefer if you let me get dressed," she said sternly, again pointing to the stairway.

"Again, I'd prefer to stay with you," he repeated, keeping his glinting hazel gaze locked with hers, one of his dark brows lifted in a very...taunting sort of way.

Was this Vampire who had invaded her home actually challenging her! He'd better be thanking whoever he prayed to that she didn't have a single thing she could use as a weapon just then, otherwise, he'd be joining the female in the trough of Mix downstairs!

"Fine!" she shot at him. "I'll get dressed. You say your peace."

If this Darksider thought she would flinch or blush or shy away like some shrinking violet, he was wrong! She was a Southern girl, filled with piss and vinegar! If he wanted to stay and watch her dress, then it wasn't going to faze her. With an easy movement, Bethalie untied her robe and dropped it to the floor, walking across the room to her wardrobe as if nothing at all was wrong or off kilter. Although, midway through her walk, she did start to wish she'd gotten a wax, but oh well.

"So...speak!" she bit out, throwing open the wardrobe doors and searching for something comfortable.

There was a brief silence from the Vampire before he cleared his throat. "Uh...ahem...I-I wanted to talk to you about the one you put down."

"You said that already," she pointed out, pulling open the top drawer and taking out a pair of panties and a bra. "Say something else."

"She was my sister," he said, and Bethalie abruptly whipped around to face him.

"I-I'm sorry," the words slipped out of her mouth of their own accord.

Damn! Had she actually said that? Damn!

Turning away from him, she stepped into her underwear, annoyed that she'd apologized. She did not ever apologize for putting down a law breaker! Not ever! What the hell was wrong with her!

"There's no need to apologize. She needed to be put down long ago," the Vampire stated. "I should have been the one to do it, but I've never quite had the heart. I'm only sorry you had to be the one to strike the blow that killed her."

"Don't be. It's my job," she said, sliding her bra on and trying to work the hook.

"But, I need to be sorry," the Vampire answered, his coarse voice suddenly right in Bethalie's ear.

She jumped as his overly warm hands brushed against hers and her bra band tightened into place. She spun around, prepared to either punch him in the mouth or break his hands, but he was sitting on her bed across the room, looking innocently back at her.

"My family has protected her for centuries," he went on as if nothing had happened. "They've coddled her and gave into her tantrums until they created that... thing you killed. But, by killing her...I'm afraid you've signed your own death warrant."

Bethalie glared at him for a second before turning back to her wardrobe and pulling out a pair of yoga pants and a tank top and putting them on. She was more pissed about the Vampire touching her skivvies than the death warrant thing. She had put down a lot of Darksiders. There were probably dozens of death warrants with her name on them.

"Thank you for the warning," she said, shutting her wardrobe and turning back to him. "Maybe we'll run into one another again sometime. So, you know...goodbye."

Even though the hint wasn't exactly subtle, he didn't move to leave. "You don't understand," he stated seriously. "My family will send someone to kill you. They'll send as many people as it takes to put you down."

"Again, thank you for the warning. But, I'm capable of looking out for myself," she said, moving to her dresser to grab a hair band so she could put her hair up.

"You should leave it down.  Its very flattering that way," the Vampire said, his gravelly voice rather soft and silky.

Bethalie continued on, putting her hair into a tight pony tail. That slick, sultry Vampire shtick didn't work on her. And furthermore, why would he even try? She happened to be a Ward, i.e. the enemy of the Vampire.  Which meant they mostly ignored her.  Well, unless they were running away from her.

"Putting down one of my family is no small matter, Ward," he continued. "You can't possibly live through what they'll send after you."

She turned to him, folding her arms over her chest. "Then you should have put her down yourself."

"I could not. None of us could," he admitted flatly. "Which is how we've arrived at this current situation."

She let out a sigh, suddenly wishing he would look away from her. Vampires had that burningly intense gaze that made a person feel like their soul was being caressed. It was unsettling, not to mention slightly...seductive. But, she fought against it because the man was a Vampire and she killed Vampires. It was just too weird!

"Once my family is notified of my sister's death, they will retaliate," the Vampire explained to her.

"I assure you, I can handle it," she answered firmly.

Vampire assassins were not overly concerning, and furthermore, she simply did not have the time to fret and stew over the possibility of someone gunning for her. Not that she considered herself invincible or above getting snuffed out, but nearly every family who'd lost someone to her wanted vengeance. She'd actually come up against her fair share of irate loved ones and even a few hired thugs sent by irate loved ones...and some of those people had not walked away from the encounter.

"You can't handle it," the Vampire pointed out. "Which is why I'll be staying with you to make sure you aren't killed because of this."

Bethalie looked at him, not sure how to react to his little announcement. "Um...thanks for the offer, but I decline."

A Vampire offering to protect a Ward? That was...unnatural.

Perhaps she should have been a bit suspicious of his motives, but she wasn't. Darksiders really weren't all that covert when it came to revenge. Working to get close to an enemy in order to kill them when they least expected it would take more energy than they were willing to expend. They preferred a more upfront approach. It if pissed them off, they killed it right then and there, no covert tactics required.

"I can't allow you to decline, Ward," the Vampire insisted. "This is my doing. Because of my weakness, you had to get involved. I won't allow you to be die because of my shortcomings."

"Why not? That'd give you and yours just one less Ward to deal with," she stated, honestly curious. Had this Vampire forgotten that she put down his brethren for a living? Most Vampires would gladly stand back and allow her to be snuffed out.

"Because you spared my life when others of your kind would not have," he said simply. "I owe you a debt."

Letting out a sigh, Bethalie started across the loft, heading for the staircase and leaving the Vampire to sit on her bed. She made it to the bottom step before she heard him right behind her. Ignoring him, she crossed over toward her weapons cupboard, passing by Evyn's desk, where the woman was sitting, still staring at her computer screen.

"Evyn, stay out of the way," Bethalie said, feeling the Vampire very close to her as she walked.

She made it to her cupboard, opening it and removing her batons from their sheaths, extending them with a quick flick before turning to face the Vampire. "You can leave now," she said to him, giving him fair warning.

The Vampire raised an eyebrow at her, his face registering moderate surprise. "Ward, I want to help you. I—"

She was on him then, swinging her right baton and connecting with his left knee joint, causing him to let out a pained snarl as he was sent stumbling sideways. Before he could recover himself, she swung again, striking the same knee joint, and in the next instant swung her left baton, striking his other knee and dropping him to the floor. With a quick movement, she slammed a baton hard against the side of his skull and he went sprawling onto the floor with a loud oomph! Wanting to keep him down, she whipped her right baton through the air and brought it down across the back of his neck, right over the base of his spine, using all the force she had, which would hopefully stun him for a brief second.

He let out a pained grunt and without hesitation, she dropped both her batons and spun around to her weapons cupboard, snatching one of the large, pointed wooden stakes hanging on the inside of the door. In the mere second it took her to turn back around, the Vampire was already on his feet, looking highly pissed and coming straight at her. As the angry Vamp reached her, Bethalie, clutching the stake with both hands, stepped forward and drove it straight into his stomach with all her might, hearing the fabric of his shirt tearing and the thick sound of his flesh giving way.

The Vampire froze, looking at her with wide, unbelieving eyes and then, after an incredibly long moment of standing there as rigid as a board, he tipped straight backward, crashing to the floor like a felled tree.

Annoyed that it had come to this, Bethalie snatched up her batons, retracted them both and put them into the cupboard. Damned Vampire! What was his issue! All he had to do was go away and leave her be!

"Oh dear," Evyn tisked, coming over to stand next to the unmoving male. "Are we going to take him downstairs and kill him there?"

"We aren't going to kill him. We're just going to put him outside," Bethalie stated, thinking that for a human, Evyn sure was bloodthirsty.

"What did he want?" the woman asked as they each grabbed a leg and began pulling the Vamp toward the front door.

"The female dissolving in the garage is his sister. He wants to protect me from whoever his family will be sending to kill me for putting her down," she answered with a shrug.

"Oh. Well, that's...weird," Evyn stated, turning red from the weight she was helping to heave across the room.

"Yeah. It's...weird. So, why'd you let him into the loft?" Bethalie questioned, thinking she'd slip a disc if she wasn't careful. Vampires weighed a solid ton!

Evyn lifted a thin shoulder. "I didn't think he wanted to hurt you."

"How did you know for sure?" she asked as they finally made it through the front door and out into the hallway.

"I didn't. He just didn't strike me as a bad guy."

Well, that was comforting. "You shouldn't have let him inside, Evyn. He could have killed us both," she scolded.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again," Evyn penitently stated as they dragged the Vamp into the elevator. "He just seemed nice. And he's really cute."

If a cute face was all it took for Evyn to put them both in mortal danger, then she was clearly suffering from a lack of sexual activity. Poor Evyn needed a date.

They took the elevator down to the first floor and drug the Vampire across the space and over to the door that led out into the back alleyway. They hauled him out into the darkness and the steady rain that was pattering down, dropping him beside the door because they couldn't go any farther.

Sweating and huffing like she'd just ran a marathon, Bethalie grabbed the smooth Ash stake and forcibly pulled it from the Vampire's stomach, swiping it across his shirt front to clean it off. The wound gushed a river of blood that splattered down onto the asphalt, but he wouldn't bleed out from it. He would start to heal within a few minutes and by the morning the wound would be gone. Hopefully, he'd gotten the point, no pun intended, and when his paralysis wore off, he would be on his merry way.

The extremely sharp piece of wood she'd nailed him with was hewn from an Ash tree and was given a bi-monthly soak in her granny's own proprietary blend of Absinthe, Angelica, Elecampane, Rue, Brimstone, and Belladonna. The soaked Ash was one of a very few things that could paralyze a Vampire. She kept the stakes ready to go, but since she wasn't usually interested in immobilizing her targets, she rarely took them out with her. Why bothering paralyzing the target when killing it saved a step?

Going back inside, Evyn shut the door, clicked the deadbolt into place, and they headed back upstairs. Though she could have had the building outfitted with a fancy electronic security system, she didn't see much point. If someone from the darker side of reality decided to try and get into the place, locks and alarm systems certainly wouldn't stop them, so a regular old deadbolt was as good a deterrent as any. Besides, she could barely work her cell phone, so there was no way she could manage an alarm system. She'd probably wind up permanently locking herself out of the place and having to sleep out in the street.

"So, you're going to have another price on your head?" Evyn asked as they entered the apartment and she went off toward her desk.

"Apparently," Bethalie said, making her way to the sofa to check on the only body she hadn't had to beat the crap out of that night.

The man still looked alert and utterly terrified. Some of his terror probably had a bit to do with the little scuffle he'd just heard. Otherwise, he was doing well.

"Bethalie, having an irate clan of Vampires after you might not be your worst problem," Evyn said from across the space.

Her tone was one Bethalie recognized, so leaving the man on the sofa, she joined Evyn at her desk, leaning against it and waiting for the bombshell.

"It seems our cute friend over there isn't just any human," Evyn said, casting a worried glance up at Bethalie. "Apparently, he hosts a web show called...In Search Of." She paused, her fingers clicking over the keyboard with lightning speed. "Crap! It's one of the most popular shows on the web. Millions of people watch it every week."

Uh oh. This was leading nowhere good.

"He goes all over the world, investigating haunted places and trying to document proof of the paranormal world. But, some of his latest episodes have been about him hunting down the bigger myths and legends. He's been to Europe investigating Werewolves and it looks like some of his upcoming shows are going to be about hunting down...Vampires."

Oh shit.

"So, if this guy...what's his name?" Bethalie asked, tired of calling him the human.

"It's Mace Donovan," came the reply.

Mace Donovan? That name sounded like a character off one of the cheesy soap operas her Granny still watched. "So, if this Mace Donovan suddenly disappeared...people would go looking for him?" she questioned, figuring that was what her assistant was getting at.

Evyn was staring at her screen and chewing her bottom lip, which was a sign of distress. "He has a massive cult following. And it looks like he's actually been able to document some fairly impressive evidence of hauntings and ghosts. If he disappears, people will absolutely be trying to find out what happened to him."

Oh shit.

The monster hunter vanishes while searching for Vampires. That was how rumors got started. Having fans and followers wondering what happened to their hero and flocking to the sight where he disappeared, probably in an effort to try and solve the mystery, would not be good for the Darksiders. One human intent on having the fame of solving the disappearance could cause trouble. But, possibly hundreds of humans? Maybe more?

"Have you heard from The Big Guys?" Bethalie asked.

"Just a couple of minutes ago," Evyn answered.

"What are they going to do with him?" she wondered, feeling bad for the guy. He had no idea when he woke up that morning that he was going to be chomped on by a monster and then put down because of it. It was ironic really, given his particular line of work.

Evyn cleared her throat. "Actually, it's what they want you to do with him."

"Me!" Bethalie balked.  "No!  No way!  I-I am not putting down a human!"  Killing innocent people was not her end of the business!  Period!

"They don't want you to put him down," Evyn stated, wincing slightly.  "They want you to keep him here until they can figure out how to deal with him. And that means keeping him away from any and all contact with Daylighters so he can't blow the whistle."

Oh shit.

Bethalie stared at Evyn for a moment. "I'm supposed to keep him a prisoner? Here! With us!"

"Pretty much," Evyn stated.

"How in hell am I supposed to do that! I have to work! I can't sit here and watch him!" she hissed, feeling outraged.

"Uh, that's not the worst of it," Evyn went on darkly. "That Vampiress you put down..."

"Yes?" she asked hesitantly, not enjoying the expression on her assistant's face.

"You shouldn't have."

Bethalie stalled. She didn't know how to react to that statement.

"That particular Vampiress was the daughter of one Mr. Bartholomew Grey of New York," Evyn said, focusing on her computer, her fingers flying. "And he just happens to be the owner of Syncorp Industries."

"The company that makes Synthetic Blood Product?" Bethalie asked, not seeing how that made a difference when his offspring was out there feeding on humans.

"The Grey Clan is off limits, Bethalie. They supply Darksiders with food. They are the only suppliers. And they're rich enough to buy entire countries. The daughter wasn't on your list of targets, so it seems you'll be taking the brunt of the retaliation."

The Big Guys were leaving her to face the music alone? Surprise, surprise.

"How can they expect me to deal with Mace Donovan if I get put down?" she wondered, just out of curiosity.

"I guess they're hoping you'll stay alive long enough for them to find a solution to that little problem."

Well.

"There's one more thing," Evyn said, shaking her head, her expression worsening and her fingers suddenly going still.

Bethalie felt herself stiffen. "Hit me."

"The Vamp in the dumpster...his wrists were slit and he was drained of his blood. He's the second one found in the past two weeks."

"Really?" Bethalie asked, surprised. Who the hell would want to drain a Vampire? Surely no Darksider would. Anything with a taste for blood usually went for people. It was almost cannibalism to feed on one of their own.

"The first one was found in a dumpster on Cleveland Street last week. Luckily, it was a Vampire who found him rather than a Daylighter. That one had his wrists slit and he was drained, too." Evyn shook her head, her brows drawn tight together. "He was identified as Jack Dunning."

"My target from two weeks ago," Bethalie said, feeling a mix of dread and anger running through her belly. Why the hell hadn't she been informed? She'd still been out there looking for him!

"Apparently, someone is killing your targets and leaving them out where anyone can find them. The Big Guys want you to figure out who's responsible and put them down before they wind up exposing all of us," Evyn stated.

Bethalie's mouth fell open as disbelief lanced her. "Um...they do realize that my job is putting down the Darksiders they tell me to put down. They give me the information and I do the wet work. I-I'm not Nancy Drew! I wasn't brought here to solve mysteries!" she scoffed.

"I don't think They care. You have a direct order to fix this problem," Evyn stated.

Bethalie shook her head, completely thrown by what Evyn was telling her. "They can't be serious!"

"They are," her assistant assured her. "That's two bodies in two weeks, Bethalie. They need you to put a stop to whatever is going on here."

"But, I-I...how...I wouldn't even know where to start!" she said, feeling the odd urge to laugh. "Why can't They figure it out? I mean, They seem to know every time a Vampire bites a human or a Witch spells her neighbor. Why can't They deal with this and tell me who to kill when it's over, like usual?"

"I dunno. Maybe because their Narc-line pays well, but not well enough for someone to rat out a person who can drain two Vampires," was Evyn's reply.

Yes. The Narc-line. It was a way for Darksiders to squeal on the lawbreakers and make a few bucks in the process. Well, more than a few bucks from what she'd heard. Money was a great motivator and for enough of it, most people—or Darksiders—would turn in their sire. Synthetic Blood Product might be fairly cheap, but nothing else in the world was these days. Even Darksiders had to pay rent.

However, maybe there were limits. Say, for instance, maybe no amount of money could incite someone to squeal on whoever was capable of holding down and draining not one, but two Vampires. The money would be no good if the narc was dead.

"So, what you're telling me is that I have to be here watching the human and keeping him on lock down, yet I have to be out looking for whoever is killing my targets," Bethalie stated, wondering how she was going to accomplish both feats simultaneously.

"And you have to not get killed by whoever the Grey Clan sends to snuff you," Evyn pointed out helpfully.

"Well, you should probably clear my calendar. I think I'm going to be busy," she said on a sigh.

"You don't have a calendar," Evyn responded.

"Right. Well, that makes things easier."

"Does it?" questioned Evyn.

"Not really," Bethalie answered, turning and heading for her sleeping loft. "Go to bed, Evyn. We should get some rest."

The way things seemed to be shaping up, sleep was probably going to be the very last thing on their list for a while.