I watched them from the shadows I was hiding in. The Intel the school had provided us with said they'd been here at least 3 weeks, maybe more. But it was obvious it was more than that. They were too relaxed and comfortable in their environment and had girls clothes scattered over the furniture in a way that only happens when someone is very familiar with the area. The purple bra in particular that was laying across the back of the couch was a give away. I couldn't see the whole room through this window, just part of the kitchen/eating area and part of the living room/couch area. A guy sat slumped down comfortably on the couch a foot or so away from the undergarment, typing away on his laptop with a beer sitting half full on the coffee table his feet were propped up on. He had a look of only moderate concentration, and the lights flashing over his skin showed me that the tv was also running.

The two girls I'd been sent with my team to retrieve were sitting at the bar counter that separated the tiny kitchen from the living room. One was the girl I was officially assigned to – Vasalissa Dragomir. Tall, blonde, beautiful. She sat on the bar stool relaxed but lady like. She wore tights under a demure, fitted skirt that stopped above her knees and a thin sweater that looked like cashmere or angora, or something else equally soft and expensive. Grey colors on the bottom, light lavender on the top. She clasped her knees together modestly and even though her face and hand movements as she talked were animated, she kept that casual and lady like poise.

I was pleased to see that. Here in the human world for the last 2 years she'd been a nobody. But in a day or so when we brought her back she'd be a princess again. It was good that she seemed to have kept whatever good etiquette she'd had before leaving. She'd have plenty to catch up on as it was. I studied her for several more minutes, committing the sight of her to memory. I was her Guardian, even though she didn't know it yet. I had to be able to recognize her instantly by both mannerisms and looks, no matter the clothes, situation or obstacles in my view.

So I studied the wide, happy, relaxed smile that nonetheless kept her fangs covered. I studied the way she sat, the way she held her shoulders, the flutterings of her hands as she spoke to her companion and the way she flipped her long hair over her shoulder without the use of her hands when it had slowly worked its way over her shoulder and into part of her face. I watched the delicate hand cover her mouth so casually when she laughed openly at something – no doubt an old habit to help conceal the extra long pointy teeth.

After 2 solid minutes I felt I had a good amount of data stored in my memory, and my gaze switched over to her companion, who was apparently having a staring competition with a cat. This girl matched the description of the other person we'd set out to retrieve, a Rosemarie Hathaway, a name I was familiar with. Her mother was a well-respected Guardian and I'd had the opportunity to see her and speak to her on a couple occasions in the last few years. Nothing extensive, and I'd had a small role to play in a mission she'd been in command of, and overall, I like Genene very much from a professional point of view. She was polite, smart and well skilled in social cues along with all the very physical aspects of this job. I had wondered before we came about this young girl who was her daughter. Would she be very much like her mother?

But now as I studied her, I realized that she looked very different from the Freshman picture they'd shown me in her file. She was older now, not a young girl at all, but a young woman. The face in the picture had been an angry, grumpy young girl with messy short hair and bangs. The young woman straddling the bar stool beside Vasalissa was certainly no young girl. Not only did she have the curves of a full grown woman, but her face was very different now as well –the cheekbones strong and prominent, as were her nose and lips – the baby fat all kids and young teens had now melted away. She wore makeup now too, and obviously took more care with her hair at this point in her life, and the bangs were gone, grown out or whatever. The rest of it had been grown out too and fell in lively waves down her back and framed her face.

'Very pretty,' I van remarked to me, inside my head. I resisted the urge to nod my head at him, then ignored him and continued my observations. 'For duty, of course,' I van added dryly. 'Not because she's attractive'.

'No,' I responded unnecessarily. 'I'm being thorough'. Ivan seemed unconvinced.

She was dressed very differently than Vasalissa was, and definitely not in the school uniform her picture showed her in. She had on cotton looking shorts and a semi-loose tank top, obviously her pajamas for the night. It struck me as she pushed it unceremoniously over her shoulder what an extreme picture in contrast the two girls made. Vasalissa thin, delicate and with silvery blonde hair as delicate looking as her. Rosemarie with plenty of curves and a possessive way of occupying as much space as she sat as she possibly could, her hair so dark it was almost black.

I could see from here that there wasn't a whole of Genene in her appearance and I wasn't seeing a whole lot of Genene in her countenance either. Genene sat and interacted with people much more in the manner that Vasalissa was. It wasn't uncommon for Dhampires not to know their fathers, and no one seemed to even have a guess who Rosemarie's father was, but it looked like his genetic contribution had been the most influential.

I wondered though. I'd been told many stories about the exploits of these two girls at the school over the years, designed to prepare me for what I should expect since I was the only one on this trip with no prior experience with either of them. The stories were told with tones of annoyance and frustration beneath the Guardian calm, but the actual events, the actual words – it sounded to me like Rosemarie would have to be exceptionally smart and resourceful to pull any of it off. Maybe those skills hadn't been put to any positive use in her life so far, but they were things that you were either born with or weren't and they couldn't be learned at a high level if you didn't already possess them. Genene had them in spades, and the stories made it sound as if her daughter did too.

I'd also studied the girls' school records before leaving, wanting all the information on both that I could collect. Vasalissa had always had perfect grades, and near perfect attendance except for a few days where Rosemarie had identical absences. Almost no disciplinary marks on her record. Rosemarie, well, from her grades she clearly wasn't a math or geography whiz, but everything to do with the physical side of being a Guardian she'd excelled at. And there were a couple dozen pages needed in her file to document the unheard of amount of disciplinary marks she had. It was obvious she either had a problem with impulse control, or authority figures, and most likely both.

My eyebrows had gone up at a few of the descriptions – things like calling teachers fascist bastards at age 5 and breaking a female classmates arm at age 9. Her behavior in her pre-teen and freshmen years had lacked the oddity of those two reports, and mostly involved sneaking out of anywhere and everywhere she was supposed to be and breaking into anywhere and everywhere she shouldn't have been – usually with alcohol, Vasalissa, boys or some combination thereof. Those actions were fairly run of the mill as far as teenagers were concerned and only stuck out because of the sheer number of them.

But the second to last note in the file had been the night before their escape. Damage to a students room and school property. With a baseball bat. A lot of damage. It had stuck out to me as I read it, in a way nothing else had, except for maybe the first boy incident where she'd apparently bullied one of her male classmates at age 7 into kissing her 'to see what was so good about it'. But apart from this one incident the day before they left, any damage to physical property seemed to be an accidental byproduct. There had been on account of a railing on the fourth floor of one of the stairways being almost ripped completely out of its moorings for insistence, and the note had stated she and another student named Mason had thought they could make a homemade cord and bungee jump down those 4 stories. They hadn't known the combined weight of their jumping at the same time and falling 4 stories would be more than the railing could handle. The resulting broken ribs they'd both had from this incident weren't from fighting, but from the homemade harnesses jerking them to a halt before they hit the ground, which was prior to the railing being ripped out. I'd found myself secretly amused by that one, although the author of the note was clearly livid, and sincerely glad I hadn't been there that day to sort that one out.

But the baseball bat incident…not even close to the same league. Her given reason stated anger at the students treatment of a feeder – which admittedly had been appalling. I'd made a mental note of the name of the Moroi as one to keep an eye on while I was here. Someone willing to do that, even to a human, had dangerous, psychopathic intentions. I'd taken a few minutes to look up the incident in his file and speak to Alberta – the head of the Guardians at the school – about him, and knew several other people shared my opinion of him.

But, as angry as reading the more detailed incident report had made me, the urge never crossed my mind to destroy his room with a bat. I could understand wanting to hit him with a bat, although perhaps not actually doing it, or destroying his room without him in it… but it felt very odd to read that he had simply been standing there while she did it. I knew students and I knew human nature. The whole story never made it into the documentation, so I had no doubt there were a few pieces missing. But here, I had no solid guess what those missing pieces were. And I had a feeling, watching Rosemarie through this window, that having her back at the academy would result in a lot more missing pieces. Again, it made me wonder about the other half of her heritage.

But tonight was about gathering new information for tomorrow. Studying the nighttime habits – the girls were obviously on a human schedule – studying the house, all possible exits, transport options, roads, fences, driveways, habits of the neighbors (just in case there was resistance that resulted in taking the girls down outside the house). We had gotten the blueprints to the house from the county records office and all of us had memorized the layout of the house earlier today. Now, we hid and watched. So that's what I did.

I watched the orange cat loose the staring contest with Rosemarie and arch its back, fur puffing up and hissing at her. I watched Vasalissa laughing and picking it up and cuddling it like a child. The cat instantly settled down in her arms. Rosemarie rolling her eyes at the cat and hopping up onto her bar stool, over the counter and jumping lightly across the gap to the other counter on the other side of the narrow galley kitchen to pull a bag of chips out of the cabinet before reversing the whole process of acrobatics to return to her seat. The cat jumped and ran from Vasalissa when Rosemarie suddenly dropped back onto her stool and both girls laughed uproariously, and then the boy glanced over and the three of them spoke back and forth for several minutes, smiles on their faces. Rosemarie tossed a chip at the boy and hit him on the side of the head where it exploded into crumbs. Vasalissa hid her teeth with her hand again as she gave one of her wide mouthed laughs.

A little while later the boy closed his laptop, turned the volume up on the tv and layed down on the couch finishing his beer. The girls were watching whatever was playing from their stools for a minute, and suddenly Rosemarie laughed and looked over at Vasalissa and said something. Vasalissa smiled but didn't say anything. Rosemarie laughed again and then scooted her stool closer and draped an arm around her friend, who leaned down slightly to lightly rest her head on Rosemarie's shoulder. Rosemarie squeezed her shoulder lightly and after a few minutes the two sat up straight and separated at the same time.

It felt oddly rehearsed – that synchronized timing – but after 2 years of only having the other to rely on and trust, maybe it wasn't so strange. My heart twisted sharply as I realized they behaved very much like Ivan and I had, that familiar comfort with each other and their friendship. It had been 9 long months now, but the ache was still just as strong. I'd never had anyone who wasn't family that I'd felt that close to, and I doubted I would again. I missed Ivan but I was realizing as time passed that I had a separate, second ache in me for that feeling of peace and relaxation that came from having another person you trusted so completely. The revelation had come pretty recently and it made the hurt feel worse as time went on – not better.

I watched now as the girls seemed to decide it was time for bed. Rosemarie crumpled the now empty chip bag and tossed it over the bar counter. It must have landed in the trash can because her throwing hand did a victory pump, although neither of the other two were looking, so a self-congratulatory victory pump, and the two girls headed into separate bedrooms while the boy stayed on the couch.

I'd assumed at first that the boy was being used as a feeder for Vasalissa, or possibly physical fun for Rosemarie, but I'd ruled the first one out when he'd laid down and I'd gotten a good view of both sides of his neck and saw no marks. Now I ruled out the second one because although both told him goodnight, there was nothing lingering or emotional in it. They barely glanced at him.

I frowned to myself as I moved to my secondary position on the other side of the house, behind a tall tree. When we'd scouted earlier we'd found this spot gave me a clear view into both girls bedroom windows. I was thinking about it while I walked – where was Vasalissa's blood supply coming from? We'd all assumed when we found them that there would be a human feeder. And when we had found them, and there was a roommate, it seemed to support this conclusion. But the visual evidence was not matching up, and now I was realizing that this was the first missing puzzle piece of our night, and it felt like an important one.

My vantage point let me see into both bedrooms and again I saw the obvious difference between the two girls. Vasalissa's room had filmy white curtains over the blinds, but she pulled the blinds up and opened the window as she got in. Rosemaries' room had the blinds pulled up but at a weird slant that suggested she hadn't wanted to bother to fix them. Odds and ends of pointy and breakable looking knickknacks perched on her window sill. At first glance I'd known them for exactly what they were – intrusion alert. Anyone trying to mess with the window would knock them off and the sound would alert her. There should have been a similar arrangement on Vasalissa's window sill. Sloppy – but she got points for thinking of it at all.

In her room, Rosemarie stretched (and against my full intentions I found myself admiring the shapes of her body, the curve of her spine as she did so) and stepped into the connecting bathroom that she presumably shared with Vasalissa. A few minutes later she emerged and shook her hair out with her fingers before pulling the covers back – her bed, the whole room actually, was a mess and everything was scattered everywhere – then flipped off the light and hopped into bed. Our eyes were good in the dark and a city block is never truly dark, so I could see her still, and watched her fluff her pillows and then elbow them into the shape she wanted before sprawling out and occupying most of the beds available space. Soon she was out.

Vasalissa on the other hand had more to her bedtime routine. She'd gotten out of that shared bathroom first, wearing a set of flannel pj's with short sleeves and Capri pants. She sat at a desk in her room and carefully brushed all her hair out to perfection, watching her progress in a small mirror. The strokes were smooth and sure and she went over all of it several times. She then smoothed some sort of lotion into her face, hands, legs and arms. She removed a thin chain necklace and stud earrings and put them carefully in a small, plain jewelry box. Then going to her closet, which was neat but overfilled, she selected an outfit for the next day and laid it out over the back of the chair she'd just been sitting at. She double checked that everything was where it should be then picked up the mirror and examined all her teeth carefully. Finally, she put the mirror down and neatly folded down the covers of her bed that clearly got made this morning. She turned off the light and tucked herself in. Where Rosemarie had sprawled occupied all possible space, Vasalissa set a pillow behind her and lay on her side with her back to it and snuggled up against it. It made me wonder who the pillow was supposed to be. Maybe nobody. Maybe it was like a child's security blanket and meant to form a shield between her and the rest of the world while she was in a vulnerable state. Or maybe she missed someone. The file had mentioned a boyfriend before she left St. Vladimirs.

I noted the time on my watch as each girl laid down and quietly reported in through my earpiece to our crew in the SUV so they could make a note. We had started surveillance early in the morning (human time) and taken shifts, reporting back the time any activity happened in or near this house. Tomorrow, after a full 24 hours study, we'd look at the notes and decide on the best time to move in. It hadn't been officially decided, but most likely after bed time tomorrow would be our go.

A few hours had passed and my shift would end in another 2 before anything more happened. Through the earpiece I knew the boy had fallen asleep on the couch and none of the neighbors worked late and were all asleep too. Ideal situation for the most part. Hopefully tomorrow the boy would make it to his bedroom. No one had seen anything in a little over an hour, but none of us were talking or moving. I heard only a few birds and crickets and a couple passing cars. It was nearly 4 am when suddenly a movement in Rosemaries room caught my full attention.

I noted it in my earpiece as I watched her thrash around in her sleep and fight off her covers in a sudden panic. A bad dream I assumed and was about to call all clear when suddenly she sat straight up, eyes wide, looking straight at me. I hadn't moved in over an hour but I fought the urge to be even stiller. There was no way she could see me through this tree. But even without reading her lips I heard the faintest noise from her. A name, said in a sudden panic. Lissa!"

My gaze instantly switched to the other bedroom and I noticed Vasalissa was also having a bad dream. While she wasn't fighting her covers to the death she was shaking and seemed to be crying in her sleep. My gaze went back to Rosemarie but she was already almost out of her bedroom door. As she ran, Vasalissa sat up to screaming and covering her face with both hands. Rosemarie then burst into her room and all but took a flying leap onto her bed, grabbing her and holding her close, talking to her while she cried and saying something back.

I was relaying a quick synopsis into my earpiece, knowing the scream had all of us on high alert now. I gave the word to stay and not move in and watched as Rosemarie cradled Vasalissa to her chest and rocked her like a child while her friend cried herself calm. It was an extremely tender and heartfelt moment and seeing their expressions I felt a sense of pride. It was clear that they were more than good friends. Vasalissa trusted Genene's daughter completely and fully relied on her – and Rosemarie apparently deserved it and took it seriously. This is what Guardians are meant to be like with their Moroi, I thought, remembering my own connection with Ivan. We had been close, but had relied on each other in mutual, equal amounts for different things. Not all Guardian/Moroi pairs were that lucky, like Rosemair and Vasalissa seemed to be, or Ivan and I had been, but most managed a good working relationship. It was generally accepted for bad fitting pairs to be reassigned quietly and without fuss. But this, this was Guarding in its purest form. A bond of love and trust that was complete, with no holding back. And it truly made me happy to see it.

Then something unexpected caught my attention. Rosemarie was moving her hair away from her neck and tilting her head. Closing her eyes. A very intimate motion – or, I suddenly realized with a jolt – a feeder like one! And just as the realization hit my brain like a bucket of ice water, Vasalissa bit. The 2 second headsup I had didn't quite give me time to squelch my startled intake of breath. But it was quiet enough that the earpiece didn't pick it up. I waited in shocked silence while they finished. It made perfect sense. I was surprised the idea hadn't occurred to any of us sooner. It was very taboo of course, but the safest option available to two teenage girls out alone. It was still dangerous, true, because the endorphine rush would leave Rosemarie high and incoherent for a couple hours, and the toll that blood loss would take on her stamina, which was a large part of what had made this sort of thing taboo originally, but surely it was still better to this in this anonymous house with Rosemarie than a young, obviously underage girl going out to find a stranger. Of course, neither solution was anything other than terrible – one of the man reasons to bring them back.

And then, in an instant, I knew we had to move tonight. Vasalissa was intelligent not doubt, but Rosemarie was the dominant one and the one with the guts to try crazy stunts to get away. All this would go smoother if we moved tonight, while Rosemarie still felt the effects of the bite.

I hated the sinking feeling in my gut at the thought. It felt like cheating. And a cheap trick to use on one of our own, even if she wasn't yet a promised Guardian. It just felt low. But this was my job, and in the end, both girls needed the safety the school could provide, not to mention the structure and training for Rosemaire. She needed to finish her training for Vasalissa's sake. They would not be able to run forever. And though she seemed to be maintaining a pretty functional life, this was dangerous. One day, one bite too close to another one, and she would become an addict, leaving Vasalissa with no real protection. I looked at the trinkets in Rosemaries window sill. Hell, Vasalissa barely had protection now. I couldn't doubt that this was the right thing to do – or even that taking this unexpected advantage was the right thing to do – but I still felt dirty somehow.

Ivans voice in my head spoke to me, sounding amused. 'This is what you are reduced to, my friend? Cheap tricks? We both know you are capable without those'. And for a second, I really, genuinely, hesitated. We had planned to move in about 12 hours. There were half a dozen of us against 2 of them. There was no way this girl could outfight and out-think all of us. I could wait, which would surely end the same anyway, and let the girls keep their secret from the other Guardians. A dangerous secret at that. Not everyone would arrive at the same conclusion that I had. Could I justify waiting? Could I justify going in now?

I came out of my thoughts to focus intently on the two girls, looking for a sign. What was right here? What was the most moral course of action? As I watched Rosemarie smiling in that doped up, hazy, happy smile all bites gave their victims – and here my mind stuttered on that word, victims – the orange cat jumped on the sill and glared at me. He arched his back and hissed, puffing his fur up to twice his size. He had seen me. Without realizing it, I'd walked 2 steps forward in front of my tree I was hiding behind to see if I was really seeing what I thought I was seeing. I was now just barely in front of the trees shadow, but just barely was too much. I cursed myself silently. It was such a rookie mistake and I couldn't believe I'd made it! And Rosemarie was staring at the cat, trying to figure out its problem. And just like that, I saw Genene Hathaway in her daughter. I saw, even in her drugged state, the wheels turning in her mind as she pondered the cat. Then looked past it and out the window. And straight at me.

I locked every muscle in my body in place; it was possible she would skim her eyes right over me. I was in all black, and my skin and hair were dark. I didn't stand out in the shadows the way someone like Vasalissa would. And she was foggy, her scanning of the lawn had been sluggish, and movement was what attracted the pupils. I crossed my fingers mentally, but then – hadn't I just asked for a sign? Now or in 12 hours we'd be ripping these two from the life they'd constructed for themselves.

Rosemarie's gaze sharpened and I knew she saw me for sure. She frowned, then quickly moved into action mode. I saw the change on her facial expression, the set of her lips, the narrowing of her eyes. Genene in dark hair. And in an instant I was sure. She's gotten Genene's will to fight, and her creative thinking, her unstoppable will. This girl would run – and try every trick she could think of. I took two slow steps back into the trees shadows, my eyes locked with hers. 'Go on', I thought, my own intensity dial revving up.