I humbly apologize for the long delay, but life really took over in the last months. I thank with all my heart all the people that reviewed the first chapter and those who put my story on their alert: you really gave me inspiration!

DISCLAIMER (I was so excited at the idea of posting that I forgot it in the first chapter): I don't own Moonlight, otherwise the show would have had a second season...and a third…and a fourth…

Two days later.

It wasn't still midnight, but Beth felt so tired all she could think of was having a shower and going straight to bed. That night Mick, with her help, had finally framed Tierney Taylor's murderer. She was glad it was over and she could see the relief on Mick's face when the paparazzi ignored him to surround the killer and Talbot. Foster was nowhere to be seen. If only Mick knew, she thought. But he didn't: he had the right to rest, to be quiet for a while. She had taken her decision and in spite of everything she didn't regret it. Yeah, wait until Josef ask for his "reward", a little malignant voice whispered in her brain. I'll think about it when it's time. A problem a day is more than enough. She shrugged and unlocked her door. Mick had left her with a tender kiss and the promise to meet the following day. As soon as she entered her house, she kicked away her shoes, sighing with satisfaction. She took a long, hot shower; then she put on her blue bathrobe, she pulled her damp hair in a loose bun and decided to treat herself to a glass of chilly white wine. She stopped for a moment in the living room, just the time to put a CD in the stereo. It was Bach's Goldberg Variations played by Glenn Gould. The quality of the recording was so good that Beth could hear that amazing pianist humming his way throughout all the passages. While she was pouring the wine, she felt for a moment a slight breeze grazing her neck. She looked around, uncertain. She knew she had closed all the windows before going out that afternoon. She shook her head: tiredness can really mess with people's mind. She took the glass of wine and moved to the living room, enjoying the music that filled the air. For a moment she stood there, leaning against the doorframe, in the darkness, relaxing. Then she turned on the light…and choked a scream.

Josef was comfortably sitting on her sofa, his Armani grey jacket casually thrown in a corner, his black shirt unbuttoned at the neck, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

"How did you get in?" she hissed, angry at his intrusion.

Ignoring her question, he closed his eyes and with a long, slender hand followed the music. "Ah…wonderful, isn't it? Bach himself would have appreciated his touch, I can bet on that. He could recognize genius because he was one of them".

She looked at him in awe for a moment then she spat out: "Don't try to fool me with your usual I'm a vampire-and-I've met a lot of famous people crap! I asked how did you get in and I'd like an answer!"

He laughed heartily, raising his hands in fake surrender: "Peace, Blondie! I don't want you to get angry…not yet, at least. As for your question, well, your windows are not so difficult to open. I know it was quite rude but I had something for you". He put his hand in the pocket of his shirt and took out a little, black thing: he held in front of him, smiling suavely to Beth. She held her breath, recognising the tiny object for what it was: the memory card of a digital camera.

"Is that…?"

"Yes, my dear, it is. It's Foster's memory card, the one with Mick's pictures in it." Josef closed his pale fingers around the little thing which shattered under the pressure.

She felt numb with relief…for a second. "But what if he saved them on a computer?"

Josef looked at his Rolex and twisted his mouth in a parody of a smile: "It won't be a problem. Right now, Foster's cottage is burning down. An unfortunate accident with some device; it happens every day. Humans are so careless…"

"And Foster?" The words slipped out of her mouth before she could even think. Josef's smile disappeared. "Do you really want to know it?"

She nodded, unable to speak. "Well, his body will not be found, that's for sure". He watched her, waiting for a reaction. Beth gasped: "You…did you…?" She couldn't finish the sentence; she just stood there, shivering in her bathrobe.

Josef grinned: "I don't mess with scum. I pay someone else to do it". Beth shook her head, unable to believe what she had just heard. "How can you joke about it?", she asked with a trembling voice. He looked genuinely surprised: "I'm not joking. I'm being realistic. You knew what you were asking for". His voice was now as cold as marble.

Beth sighed; she just wanted to end the conversation, to go to bed and forget everything: "Yes. Yes, I knew", she muttered, so low a normal person wouldn't have been able to hear her. "So, what do you want?", she asked bluntly.

Now the smile on Josef's face was very different: it was a slow, suggestive grin that gave her goose bumps. He patted lightly on the sofa: "Well, to begin with I want you to sit down by my side". Ok, she thought, I can do it. I just have to go and sit down. She refused to listen to the part of her brain that was screaming "Red alert!" and sat down stiffly on the sofa, careful not to be too close to the vampire who was clearly having fun. Beth had always thought of herself as a brave person: her terrible ordeal when she was a little child had hardened her; now she wasn't easily scared and she had learnt to face trouble in a very straightforward manner. She decided to take the lead. Avoiding carefully his eyes, she gathered her courage and spoke: "I know what you want, Josef".

He raised an eyebrow: "Do you?"

Beth took a deep breath and clenched her hands: "Yes. You want…well, I guess you want a taste of my blood. All right, here it is" and she offered him her neck, blushing furiously.

She heard him chuckle, but she wasn't able to see his face. He leaned towards her until his nose touched slightly the soft, white skin just under her jawbone. He inhaled delicately: "You smell of roses, Beth", he whispered. She felt his hand gently touching her hair.

Then his lips pressed right on her pulse and she toughened herself, waiting for the sting of his bite…which didn't come. Josef raised his head and laughed: "Thank you, darling, but it's not your blood I want to taste…even if, believe me, I'm sorely tempted".

Beth looked at him in disbelief. His eyes, just a few inches from her face, were a pale shade of silver now, but his fangs were still retracted. "You don't want my blood?"

"No, but I must tell you you're lucky I've got the self control only 400 years of practice can give. A younger, less expert vampire couldn't resist such a mouth-watering offer". He laughed again and Beth began to feel a wave of rage: which kind of game was he playing?

"What the hell do you want, then?", she exploded, letting out all the tension of the last days.

Josef shook slowly his head, smirking: "Well, I do want a taste after all".

Beth frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but in that same second Josef leaned again towards her, his hands cupping her face. She was taken completely by surprise.

"Only, not of your blood".

And she froze completely when his mouth crashed on hers.