At 6.30 (there was no way I wanted to risk Cutler seeing me come out of the front door of Honolulu Heights), I walked down the steps and onto the street to wait. Against Annie's wishes, I had packed a stake in my bag, along with the bottle of damn perfume just in case, though I was already reeking of the stuff. I tapped my foot against the pavement, understandably nervous. I didn't care what Hal and Tom had said; I was still sure that Cutler was going to try and drink my blood. After all, he didn't know I was a werewolf, and by the time he'd sunk his teeth into my neck, it would be too late. For both of us.

A 6.50 (at which point I was very glad indeed I had chosen to be cautious about the time), a sleek, black car pulled up. My knowledge of cars was somewhat limited, in that I knew nothing at all of them, yet I could still feel myself being impressed by Cutler's choice of vehicle.

The window rolled down to reveal the vampire himself, who motioned for me to get in. I took a deep breath to calm myself, which only really results in the inhalation of Chanel No.19, before getting in.

"Hello," I said. Oh god; who said 'hello' as a greeting anymore? I should have said something more casual like 'hi' or 'hey'. But it was too late now.

"Alright?" said Cutler, as he waited just a millisecond after my seatbelt had clicked to pull the car away at an alarming speed.

Cutler drove with immense ease, it seemed. Although he was never quite still, his fidgeting indicated a boredom at the ease of driving, more than the stress of it; the tapping of a thumb on the steering wheel or the light fiddling with his collar. A few times he sniffed the air and rubbed his nose, and I wondered whether the sensitivity to perfume that Hal had mentioned was perhaps like an allergy. Was it then, that Cutler could smell the perfume, instead of the wolf smell? Or did the perfume perhaps block his nose, so he could smell nothing at all. I made a mental note to ask Hal at some point.

After five minutes of driving in silence, I attempted to make conversation.

"You've got a nice car," I said, lamely, into the silence, fervently wishing I had something interesting to say.

"Hmm?" said Cutler, looking at me.

A sort of apology arose to my lips, for it occurred to me that I had perhaps disrupted his thoughts.

"The car," I said, wishing I hadn't said anything at all. "It's...nice."

Cutler smiled vaguely, but didn't say anything, and I took note to never try and start conversations ever again. I contented myself with instead looking out of the window for the remainder of the journey.

The car drew up outside a perfectly ordinary looking townhouse; one of the many flat conversions in Barry. I almost laughed at myself when I realised I had been expecting something more reminiscent of Dracula's Castle. Cutler was either weirdly tidy for a man, or he had made some sort of attempt on my behalf. Maybe he'd had to clear up after his last victim...Ok, I really had to stop.

It felt strangely...homely, inside the flat, though I was hit by the strong odour of vampire that I guess was clinging to every surface. But I felt far more at ease than I thought I would inside Cutler's home. Apart from the feeling that my blood was about to be drunk; a feeling that I could not shake.

Cutler was already striding about in a confident, business-like manner.

"Let me get you a drink..." he crossed to a kitchenette, where he opened a small fridge, though he almost immediately closed it again. But not before I had glimpsed several bottles of red liquid I was quite certain was human blood. I felt faintly sick.

Cutler turned to look at me, quickly checking to see if I had noticed anything unusual, and I saw one of those rare looks of apprehension on his face. As though he was worried he had blown his cover.

"It's ok," I said, quickly. "I'm not thirsty."

Cutler grinned, looking relieved. "Ok," he said. "I'll take you out for one later, if you like."

I didn't have time to respond to this - was it an invitation? I wasn't sure – before Cutler had strode once more into the living room area, shrugging off his suit jacket and sitting down on the sofa.

"Now," he said, gesturing for me to do the same. "To see something really interesting."

I sat down on the sofa, careful to put a safe distance between me and the vampire; still not one hundred percent sure that I wasn't about to be devoured. But my attempts were futile. Cutler had to lean over me to retrieve a slim laptop anyway, and when we were both settled once more, we were practically touching side by side.

Cutler fired up his computer, which was a lot more technologically advanced than the beast my family used to have in the study, with the massive monitor and chunky keyboard. Cutler's fingers moved with a swift deftness over the keys to hastily open up a window of internet explorer, but I still caught sight of what seemed to be a picture of a wolf as a desktop background.

"I've got something very interesting to show you," he said, typing a search into a website called 'Youtube'. "Or at least," he continued. "I hope you'll find it interesting."

After a few clicks, Cutler had opened up a video on the website.

It was a...a werewolf, transforming. Or...actually, it was two werewolves, screaming and howling. I stared, transfixed with horror, as one of them came closer to the camera, and I recognised it as-

"Tom," I breathed.

"Hmm?" said Cutler, vaguely, whose eyes were also fixed to the video, but more in glee than in horror.

The video continued right up until both Tom and the other werewolf had transformed entirely into wolves, and then it cut out.

"So," said Cutler, moving the laptop away. "What do you think?"

What did I think? I thought I was going to be sick. I had never seen a werewolf transformation before; having only had them myself. I could never have imagined it to be so...grotesque. I knew it was a reasonably violent affair, for I had often awoken the day after a full moon to find myself covered in cuts and bruises, but I could still not imagine myself looking quite like that.

Cutler seemed to understand my long pause before answering. When he spoke again, it was much gentler than I had ever heard before.

"I know it's...a lot to take in," he said. "But I'm guessing you recognised our friend from earlier?"

I was still too shocked to really say anything at all, so just nodded.

"Yeah..." said Cutler, examining his hands. "Tom McNair."

"How come you knew about all of this?" I asked, speaking for the first time for what felt like ages.

This, it seemed, Cutler had an answer for. "I got Tom McNair out of a sticky situation with the police a few weeks ago. I did some more...research, and found this." He gestured to the laptop.

"I see," I said numbly.

There was silence for a moment, until a loud beeping made me jump out of my skin.

"Sorry," said Cutler, taking out his beeping phone and tapping at it with his long fingers until it was silent.

"So," he said, running a hand through his hair. "How about that drink?"

x-x-x

I stammered protests the entire way into town; he didn't need to buy me a drink, it was late, I wasn't thirsty...I even went as far as to say I thought I'd left the oven on, but my these protests were ignored entirely, and Cutler pulled the car to a halt outside some sort of swanky looking bar. We walked in, and I realised that this was actually my first experiences of a bar. How strange that I should be sharing this moment with a vampire that I was supposed to be spying on. Well, I thought, there weren't many other nineteen year old girls who could say the same as that.

The bar was full of well-dressed people, and I felt very shabby indeed in my jeans. Thank god I could largely hide behind Cutler who, dressed in his suit, looked quite at home in this environment. He led me up to the bar.

"What would you like?" he asked.

I was completely stumped. I had no clue whatsoever when it came to drinks.

"Umm...just, uh, whatever," I said, in a manner that I hoped portrayed me to be easygoing, but actually probably just made me look indecisive and stupid. However, Cutler smiled, and ordered a drink I had never heard of before, though Cutler assured me it was the best. When the drinks were placed in front of us, I could see why Cutler favoured it; it was bright red in colour.

"It looks like blood," I said, without thinking. But Cutler didn't seem bothered by this statement.

"Let's be thankful it doesn't taste like blood as well!" he said, grinning.

Wow, I thought, he could be a convincing liar when he wanted to be. Perhaps all those years of practice. I wondered how long Cutler had been a vampire for; living this double life as a blood sucking creature one minute, and a well-respect solicitor the next. Hal had said that Cutler was a reasonably young vampire, but that could mean anything.

Cutler took out some money to pay for the drinks.

"Oh," I said. "You don't have to...I'll pay..."

The man at the bar winked at Cutler. "Come on love," he said to me. "The man's got to pay on a date."

"It's not-

But Cutler had already shoved some money into the barman's hand and he had wandered away.

"Cheers," said Cutler, raising his glass. "I think today has been very...informative."

I nodded, touching his glass with my own.

I very much thought that this little rendezvous ought to be kept as short as possible, and so hastily glugged down half of my drink in one; the red liquid heating up my throat and my stomach as it slid down. The quicker I drank, I thought, the quicker I would be able to get out of there. But alas! No sooner had I drained the glass, did the barman bring another round over. I thought it would be rude to refuse this second drink, and by the third one, I didn't care.

I was feeling really most peculiar by this point, and suddenly thought of the ridiculousness of all this spying malarkey. I didn't want to live my life in a web of secrets and lies! The world would be a much better place if everyone was just honest and truthful. I should tell Cutler the truth immediately; I should tell him about my being a werewolf, about Tom and Hal, about spying on him...He would take it well, I thought. He would possibly be surprised at first, but then would probably congratulate me on my excellent disguise skills, and then we would laugh about the whole thing for a while...

Oh god, I was drunk. And I was in serious danger of letting the entire plan fall through entirely. With effort, I returned my brain to sobriety and excused myself to the bathroom. Once there, I splashed cold water on my face to try and regain some of my senses. I couldn't afford to be in anything other than a perfect state of mind when around Cutler. I had been so close to telling him everything. What an idiot I was! I splashed more freezing water on my face, more as a punishment than anything else, and stumbled back out into the bar.

I saw that Cutler was still where I left him, but he was now accompanied by several other people, one of whom he was having an agitated conversation with. When Cutler saw me coming over, he leapt from his seat, grabbed my elbow, and began escorting me to the exit. But our path was blocked by one of the men, and I was suddenly aware of a much sourer vampire scent than either Hal or Cutler's. Oh no. I couldn't be around a vampire. They would smell that I was a werewolf, they would-

"Leaving so soon, Cutler," the other vampire said. "Unless..." his eyes flickered towards me. "Having an evening snack, are we? Well you must remember to share Cutler. Manners are everything."

"Piss off, Fergus," said Cutler, shortly.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your little friend, Cutler?" the vampire Cutler had called Fergus leaned closer, but then drew back, sniffing.

"You haven't been messing around with werewolves again, have you Cutler? You bloody stink of those dogs!"

"Shut it," said Cutler. "Just because you can't see the attraction-

"Attraction? Jesus Cutler, you talk as if you're in love with the bloody animals! I'm telling you, the Old Ones won't be interested in any pathetic plan you're brewing with those damn dogs."

Did they just mention the Old Ones? So Cutler was preparing something that was to do with them. But...what?

Cutler's eyes flashed between me and Fergus significantly.

"Oh," said Fergus. "Oh have I blown your cover? Well, we know one easy way to fix that..."

The eyes of the vampire went black for just a millisecond before Cutler pushed him roughly away, with an immense force. So much so, in fact, that Fergus was taken aback, and fell to the floor. Cutler's face told me that he had perhaps not meant for quite that outcome from his actions, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Fergus looked up at Cutler from the floor; an expression of strong dislike on his face.

"Very well, Cutler," he said, nastily. "I'll let you have your own way with this one," he gestured towards me. "But don't think the Old Ones will be quite so easily won over as that when they arrive!"

x-x-x

Cutler was very quiet as we drove away from town, muttering something about "drunk bastards", but mentioning the incident with Fergus no more. Though we hadn't really spoken in the car previously, I hadn't really been aware of a physical feeling of silence. But now, this silence hang, almost heavy, in the small, confined space of the car.

I had acted ignorant of all strange goings on, and so Cutler now probably thought I was mad, stupid, drunk, or all three. I shuddered when I thought of Fergus's black eyes. I had never seen a vampire like that before and strangely found myself trying to imagine Cutler with those black eyes and fangs, but found it difficult to form that image in my head.

What an interesting outcome if would have been if Fergus actually had drunk my blood; he would have died, and Cutler would have known that I was a werewolf. What an extraordinary turn of events that would have been. But, thankfully, Fergus seemed to have believed that the scent of werewolf he had smelt had come from Cutler, and his interaction with werewolves. Did that mean that Cutler was renowned for his interest in werewolves? I wasn't sure. And what had they been talking about with the Old Ones?

Before I could ponder this further, the car came to an abrupt halt outside Honolulu Heights. It was pitch black, and raindrops were pattering on the window, seeming loud with the engine now cut out.

"Look," said Cutler, speaking for the first time in ages. "Why don't I take you back to your place? It's raining and...I don't mind."

"No!" I cried. "No, there's no need. I don't know how to get there from here anyway." I added.

Cutler frowned. "If you don't know how to get there, how will you-

"In the car!" I cut in, quickly, in a manner that probably bordered on hysterical. "I don't know how to get there in the car. You see I...I only know how to reach it on foot...you know...have to go through someone's garden..."

"You have to go through someone's garden?"

"It's a...large garden. More of a park. Anyway, thank you for the drink and your interesting video. Goodnight!"

Before I could look any more like an idiot, I shot out of the car door. Only when I was sure that the car had driven out of sight did I climb the stairs to Honolulu Heights, push open the front door and step inside. It required every ounce of energy I had to drag myself up the stairs to my room where I slumped, fully clothed, on to the bed, and fell almost instantly asleep.