A/N: Eating a bananananana nut muffin. My sister and I made up a new phobia last night... angoraphobia. Fear of fuzzy things. Ohohohohohoho!!!!!

Bah... 'M afraid I'm not doing this very well. But who cares? I write, I post, funfunfun!


Chapter 3 - Ruban Noir



Neris closed the door very, very carefully. The pale features, the dull eyes, the gaping mouth, the hand outstretched on the pavement...

For a split second she that it had been... no. Paj's books and mooning about was getting to her. It couldn't have been.

"Neris, look at this," Paj said behind her. Neris jumped. "See, it shows how-"

"No," Neris interrupted, waving a hand. "One vampire in this family is enough."

Paj scowled, the grimace unusual and childish on her delicate features. "Don't you want..." She spread her hands out, one holding the book. "I don't know."

"No, I don't, Paj," Neris replied wearily. "I just want to go to bed."

Paj gave a long, hard look. "Another attack?"

Neris nodded, sliding down the door until she could rest her forehead on her knees. "Yes. A Watchman. I didn't know him, I wouldn't have known he was a Watchman without his badge. I couldn't have known."

Paj sighed. "I certainly hope Vimes gave you the day off."

"He did. Tomorrow too."

The black-haired girl bit her lip, hesitated, then reached her hand down to Neris. "Let's just go to bed. It'll be better in the morning."

Neris smiled and took the hand. "You're probably right."

There was silence as the girls changed into nightclothes, snuffed out candles, and got into bed. The quiet sucked at them, willing them to talk and giggle like sisters did.

"Um..."

"Yes?"

"Do you ever think about..."

"About what?"

"About the day you were bitten."

There was silence for a moment.

"Of course I do." The voice was bitter. "Mostly at three am. Oh, yes, I had a nice neck and looked good in an underwire nightgown... that's all they really look for, you know."

Hesitation, then: "What was it like? Did it hurt?"

"I screamed, but it didn't hurt, exactly. I felt like I was falling backwards into this big thick pink cloud and these claws on my neck were pulling me with them. No, it didn't hurt. But I did feel like I was dying, which I suppose I technically was."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Um... so... Do you want me to close your coffin?"

"No, that's all right."

"Good night, then."

"No... good morning."



Dimitriev walked down the road, humming to himself and skipping up and down off the curb like a gothic version of a character in "Singing in the Rain." A cigarette hung from his hand, trailing smoke like a busted jet engine.

He had had a really great night.

But... the Watch had a Werewolf.

The whispers had reached him, even in his merry seclusion. It was beginning to worry him. Even the worst of Werewolves could smell a Vampire three miles off. Aniseed, then? He was rich, after all. It was a trait often found in Vampires. He couldn't blow his cover, not now. The stakes were too high.

The Watch had a Werewolf.

Dimitriev knew that the city was full of other Vampires, Black Ribbon traitors every one of them, but there was something...

He paused on the corner and inhaled, smelling the sharply-sweet smell of peppermint. It hung in the air like a brittle yet alluring perfume.

The Watch had a Werewolf, but he had a Vampire.*

Dimitriev unfolded his wings and vanished into the night with the harsh sound of leather dragged across metal.

_____________
* Himself. Our dear Dimitriev is something of an egotist, can you tell?