Chapter 007: Part of the Network

He checked his alarm clock, just to see that it was mid-day. 2 PM to be precise. That gave him 3 hours until he had to be at the blood bank. He groaned and got ready before he texted Hannah to see if she had time this evening.

When he picked up his phone however, he noticed that the last message he had received from her had been shortly after she had left him yesterday morning, letting him know she was off to her first customer. A new referral. After that, silence. So he texted, 'Good day to you, princess. Did you collapse into bed after work yesterday? Want to meet up later in the evening if you got time? I'm free after 7.'

He hoped she would have time. He wanted to see her.

Before long, Vandal decided to leave his apartment for a bit and go outside.

He needed the fresh air. He had slept so long it would do him good. Maybe he would go to the pier, he wasn't quite sure yet. Grabbing his keys and making sure he had his phone, he just left without further contemplating the matter.

'Don't you feel great?' one of the voices asked him. 'Don't you feel wonderful? So much 'better' than you were before?'

'But he was betrayed. He sh-' another voice started, and was cut off.

'Nobody 'betrayed' him!'

Wrong. Because he did feel betrayed. He hadn't truly been given a choice. And Heather, she had known all along! She had 'played him'. She had-

A surge of fury burned through him so violently that he knew, if anything breakable had been in reach in his apartment, it would now be broken.

Had she known from the moment she had stumbled into the blood bank, screaming for someone to give her a fix?!

Oh, he would find out. He would squeeze the truth out of her with his bare hands if he had to. If she'd been 'lying' and 'acting' this entire time, he would make her suffer. She had dragged him into this mess! And he, he had been unable to see it. No one had ever managed to fucking lie to him like that. To make him believe 'everything' they had said.

He 'hated' being lied to more than anything.

Vandal kept walking through alleyways without really paying attention to where he was going. He didn't care where he was going at the moment.

He felt stressed. To be honest, he felt a bit like before he had started his therapy all those years ago. Right now, he didn't have his emotions under control. Almost like his teenage self. And they were rapidly shifting from one to another. He felt unstable.

'You'll be better in a few hours,' a soft female voice soothed him.

He noticed it was always the same set of different voices. They weren't random. So far, he counted five of them. Two male, less frequent, and three female ones.

They were never quiet for long. He would have to learn to enjoy the moments of silence in his head as best he could.

The female voices started giggling and one of them pointed out, 'Look where you are. Isn't that nice? You've arrived at the sleeping beauty's place.'

Vandal stopped, only now realizing that he was standing right in front of the Asylum. 'Sleeping beauty?' Yeah, she was probably resting now, being a vampire and all.

'Kindred,' he reminded himself. That had been the word she had used.

Of course now, the club was closed. His hand wrapped around the door handle and he pushed it down.

To his utter surprise, the door opened. As he slowly peeked into the entrance hall of the club, he noted that the lights were on and that music was playing, although it was kept at a low volume.

He didn't know what compelled him to go in, his curiosity most likely, but he did so without hesitating.

As he entered and the bar came into view he recognized Cal, the bartender from yesterday.

He had sensed him, and looked up from the glass he was polishing.

"You didn't lock the door." Vandal grinned as surprise flicked across Cal's face, the tattoo on the side of it and his forehead distorting a bit.

He didn't comment on the unlocked door however. Instead he asked, "How did it go with Therese yesterday?"

"Alright," he curtly answered. Then he added, "You know when she'll be in tonight?"

"Yeah, Therese usually shows up right after sundown," he informed him. "Sometimes Jeanette shows up before she does. It's never guaranteed."

She had told him to stay away from her sister hadn't she?

"So what are you doing here this early?" Vandal inquired. This was unusual. The club only opened at a later hour if he remembered correctly.

"Oh, Therese had me check up on inventory. She always wants me to make sure we have enough liquor in store."

Behind him, he heard the door open and then fall shut again.

"To hell with these idiots! Cal, if I have to go there ever again, I'll personally bash their skulls in with the shoes they were too stupid to order in my size!"

The comment made him chuckle. Short tempered and hot headed was something he could relate to.

He heard a key turn in the lock and before he could speak, the young woman had already entered the club.

She stopped, black ballet shoes in hand. "Who's our visitor?" she questioned Cal.

He stared at her. She was wearing a black lace lyrical dress with several layers for its skirt, some long and flowing, others shorter. The dress was sleeveless and he could see that she had some muscle to her, even though she was built quite petite. On her right shoulder was a tattoo of a wingless dragon biting its tail and forming a circle. When his eyes finally had moved to her face he noted that she was wearing a blindfold, decorated with sequin. The ends of it were tied behind her head and had then been braided into her long, black, curly hair. The braid hung over her left shoulder and its end reached her chest. The red fabric looked like a streak of scarlet blood in it.

This was the same woman he had dreamed about. Even though her hair was longer and he couldn't see the entirety of her face, he was sure of it.

What had the ink on her arms said? "Beatrix?" He hadn't intended to speak aloud.

"How do you know my name?" Her head turned in the general direction of where his voice had come from.

Was she truly blind? A person with vision would have taken off the blindfold by now, he was pretty sure of that. However, she wasn't carrying a white cane.

"He had a meeting with Therese the day before. She probably mentioned you by name or something," Cal answered before Vandal could.

She hadn't, but he didn't mention that. He would play along.

"Hm. Oh well." She stepped a bit closer. "So, introduce yourself, as you already seem to know who I am." She smiled.

"I'm Vandal," he replied dryly. "Good to meet you."

As he was speaking, Beatrix stepped up to him and held out her hand. "Good to meet you too, Vandal." After a short squeeze, she walked past him towards the bar, skimmed one of the bar stools with her fingers and took a seat. "I guess you're stuck here until either me, or Cal unlock the door for you. You got urgent business to take care of, or would you like to stay for a while longer to watch me rehearse?"

For some reason, she got him interested enough to stay and watch. "I think I'll stay." He took a seat next to her.

She took off her sneakers and put on the ballet shoes. "Cal, can you give me my phone real quick?"

He handed it to her and teased, "Aren't you worried I'll eavesdrop again?"

She laughed, clearly amused. "If I was, I'd have also told you to hand me my earphones." She swiped a few different directions on her phone, but her screen stayed black. She ran her finger over the screen and her phone read out the button she had her finger on. 'Contacts'. She scrolled with two fingers until it announced 'Showing items 4 to 7 of 30'. She moved her finger on the screen until the phone said 'Janice'. She double tapped it. 'Showing buttons'. She again moved her finger on the screen until she had reached 'Call button' and double tapped that too. "Just one moment. Sorry I know it's impolite, but it's important." She put the phone to her ear and after just a few moments, Janice apparently picked up. "Hey. I'm good, thanks. I have a small favor to ask. Could you go and pick up my package from the neighbors? They left a voice mail for me. They're only here until tomorrow and I can't make it since I'm out of town currently." A pause, then, "Thanks, you're awesome. Till then!" She hung up and locked her phone before handing it back to Cal. "Thank you too."

"You're welcome."

Curiosity had gotten the better of Vandal. "So you're blind, but you're also a dancer?"

"Yes," she giggled. "Do you have doubts that I really am blind, because I seemingly came in without a cane? Well, it's standing at the entrance right next to the door."

"Therese didn't mention you were blind. She hired you right?" he lied.

"I first met her sister, Jeanette. She pitched me to Therese. It was Jeanette who trained me here. Took a while until I finally got down the boundaries of the stage and the dance floor, but now I know this place as well as my own home back in LA and my apartment here in Santa Monica. So I guess you could say it was Jeanette who hired me, Therese's just the one who's writing my paychecks."

From what he was hearing, Jeanette couldn't be as bad as Therese made her out to be if she was willing to help a blind person get a job as a dancer.

"How long have you been blind? And what have you been diagnosed with, if you don't mind me asking." This was genuine interest. He had always enjoyed medical school back when he was still in training and he cherished the chance to actually speak with someone who had a medical condition. He had only ever been able to read about stuff that wasn't in his field.

"A while. I developed my blindness after a car accident about 9 years ago, had a traumatic brain injury. The optic nerves in my eyes got damaged quite badly. I used to be a trained dancer before my blindness. I'm grateful I still get to do what I like, even if it's on a smaller scale. I have remaining vision, but it's not really worth mentioning since it's not enough to make me function as effectively as any sighted person, obviously."

He was slightly disappointed. He kind of had hoped she had had a degenerative eye disease from birth. "Well, you seem to be very well adjusted. Glad to see you still get to go on doing your original profession."

"Thanks." She got up from the stool and walked across the dance floor and stepped onto the stage.

Cal switched the music to a modern instrumental piece that had synthetic sounds and violin mixed, which made it sound quite interesting. It strangely fit the style of music that was usually playing at the club, though it was a bit different.

It was a roughly 5 minute performance. He had to admit, that she was very good. The jagged dance moves matched the more edgy parts of the music and became flowing, almost trance like during the softer more melodic parts with the violin. The whole thing was filled with contrast and he actually liked it. He hadn't expected to. It usually wasn't his thing.

Beatrix came back to them with a smile on her face. "How did you guys like it?"

"It's usually not my type of thing, but this, I actually enjoyed because it was different," he answered truthfully.

She bowed. "Thanks."

Cal laughed. "You know what I think of it. I kept telling you the last few times."

"Aw."

They kept talking about this and that, while Cal finished polishing glasses and sorted all the liquors and drinks in the bar.

"Do you remember what you look like?" Vandal inquired.

"The image that pops into my head is very faded and blurry, so I have to answer, not really. It's insane how quick your visual memory fades. It's only shapes, light and shadow and very little color. I know from descriptions, but you could line up five girls with the same one and they'd all look different, so I guess it doesn't really matter. I know I have black hair, and I obviously know it's curly and long from touching it. I also know I'm a bit smaller than average people and I have light skin." She shrugged.

He didn't know why he had such an urge to see her face, especially her eyes. "Any chance you could take off the blindfold?"

"Sure. It's pretty hot under there anyway." She undid her entire braid and then removed the blindfold. She brushed through her hair with her fingers. It nicely framed her face, flowing past her shoulders and onto her chest like black silk. Her eyes, surprisingly, were very light, pale blue.

"It's almost a pity you don't remember what you look like," Vandal grinned. "You're pretty. And your eyes are even lighter than mine."

"Oh, yes I almost forgot they're quite unusual." She laughed, clearly happy to have been complimented. "By the way, what did you come here for? Needed to speak to Therese?"

"Yeah, I'll come in later to bring her some paperwork from the hospital," he lied again for the second time.

"Oh, in that case, I'll probably see you later." She smirked, then added, "Oh wait, I guess I won't. My bad."

He actually laughed at that. "Well, I certainly will. I'll talk to you later, if you're not busy dancing."

"Oh, I'll take a break for you. Find me when you're back. It was really nice meeting you." She took a step forward and opened her arms.

Under any other circumstances, he would have refused the hug, but he didn't want to refuse her, partly because she was disabled.

Beatrix wrapped her arms around him and he hugged back. Grinning, she told him, "You're small for a guy." She rested her head on his shoulder for a second. "And you have long hair." She let go and giggled. "I'll go get the door for you."

She unlocked it for him and indeed, like she had said, her white cane leaned against the wall next to the entrance. "Until later."

He nodded goodbye, just to remember she couldn't see that. "See ya." Once he had stepped outside he heard her lock the door again.

He checked his phone. Still no message from Hannah and over an hour until he had to be at the clinic.

He sighed and decided to go to the pier.

There was not a lot of people around when he arrived. Most of them were sitting at the ice cream parlor. He checked and sat down on a bench near enough to watch the people sitting there.

Some couples, a group of teenagers, a family with kids, nothing unusual. What caught his attention however was a young woman with her blond hair tied into a ponytail, wearing a t-shirt that was at least 2 or 3 sizes too big for her, tucked into her ripped, baggy jeans. She was sitting there all alone, a bit off to the side and away from the other guests. Also, she wasn't drinking or eating anything. She was just sitting there, looking a bit sad.

'Play with her.'

'You know you want to.'

Yes, he did. But he wanted to keep watching her for a bit longer.

He kept observing for a full ten minutes. A waiter had walked up to her and she had shaken her head when asked if she wanted to order. She had checked her phone two times. And Vandal was sure, she had been waiting for someone who now wasn't coming.

'The whole world is your playground. All these people are your personal toys to do with as you please. Manipulate and break them to your liking.'

The words put a smile on his face. The demon was 'right'.

The woman stood up and put her phone away again. She was walking into his direction, albeit on the other side of the street.

Perfect. He would follow her a bit, just for fun, to see if she even noticed.

He walked at a distance behind her with his head lowered. He tailed her away from the pier, down two block, taking a left, then a few more blocks, right to her apartment complex. As she turned right to walk to her door, he just kept walking, but quickly checked over his shoulder to see if she would open one of the mailboxes, and if, which one.

Yes. She lived on the first floor. Her mailbox was the one to the left. And in this moment, he knew he now had a new game to play. He would keep watching her. If he got to, he would go through her mail and he would learn everything he could about her. He would try to find out if she would be missed and if not, then she would vanish off the face of the earth one way or another. He had marked her as his prey and she had gone to the top of his list.

He circled back around to the clinic and checked the time again. He had managed to kill enough of it that it was now quarter to 5.

He took the back door to the blood bank and went downstairs.

"Too bad you're stuck with night shifts now. I wonder who the new addition to the team is. Miss Voerman said she'd find someone to do the early shifts with me."

This was Bill talking and Vandal realized he could 'very clearly' hear him through the closed door of the reception booth.

He entered and both Bill and Phil looked surprised to find him here at this hour.

Immediate questioning from Phil commenced. "What are you doing here? Did something come up we didn't hear about?"

He shook his head. "Not really, I'm just supposed to take Heather Poe's blood samples every 3 days. Didn't Miss Voerman inform you?"

Bill shook his head. "No, but look she sent an email with our new schedules. You and Phil are stuck with night shifts. Like, for real at night. Look at the times! She has you guys doing inventory and everything during that. And me and someone new will be taking the donations during the day. She wrote that she thinks it will make the blood bank run more efficiently if the work is split like this." He paused for a moment, then continued, "She also left a message for you in a separate mail… It's encrypted. Hope you know who the hell her associate is, because apparently that's the password."

He sat down in front of the computer to read the first email as well.

She had really set up their schedules so that they only worked from after sundown to a few hours before sunrise.

And as usual Bill and Phil were talking. He growled, "Could you two leave me to read this in peace for 5 minutes?"

"Of course."

When they had left, he entered the password for the second email. She had sent him a detailed description of what blood types to take from the hospital supplies to sell and which bags to sell at which prices. She specifically ordered him to memorize it all and delete the email after. 'Print the email if you need to, but do not leave the information on here.' So he did and put the folded paper into the pocket of his jeans. Phil and him had their work cut out for them. They would spend the majority of Saturday night sorting through the bags.

A knock on the window made him turn.

He almost didn't recognize her. Heather had dyed her hair black and she wasn't wearing her glasses. She had put on winged eyeliner and red lipstick. Her yellow shirt and jeans had been replaced with a midnight blue pencil dress.

"Hey Vandal," she greeted him. She was in an exceptionally good mood.

"One second, Heather." He opened the door of the booth and shouted for Bill and Phil to come back. When they saw Heather, Bill almost stared at her.

"Damn, you look great," he told her.

Heather grinned and Vandal took note that her grin was eerily like his. "Well, thank you."

Bill opened his mouth again, but Heather cut him off. "You don't want to ask that."

"You don't even know what I was gonna ask," he laughed.

"Don't even think about it. If those words leave your mouth I'll 'rip your throat out'," she threatened.

Bill looked a bit like she had punched him in the face. "What the fuck?"

She smiled. "Good, now you think I'm crazy again. Keep it that way."

He shook his head.

Vandal stepped out into the hallway to Heather. "Well, come on then. We can't have you threaten my coworkers like that. I'm the only one allowed to do that." He lowered his voice. "I have a bone to pick with you still." He didn't lead her to the area where they usually took donations. He took her to a back room that had a hospital cot and a few cupboards with supplies. He didn't want to have this conversation anywhere where they could be overheard.

He closed the door behind them and told Heather to sit down on the cot. "I hate being played. You 'lied' to me, Heather. How long have you known?"

She didn't look sorry anymore, unlike yesterday. "From the first day I came down to the blood bank with my arms bleeding, screaming to get fixed. Kevin and Therese have been working together for quite a while and I was part of their plan all along. They used me to get to you. Each night, Kevin snuck in to see me and had me report on the day. He told me to go here and get as much info on you as I could. So I did."

Vandal's eyes narrowed. "So your warning not to drink the coffee, was that also a lie? Did you know I'd just drink it anyway, because you made me think you're crazy?" He stepped closer, remembering what she had said to Bill earlier. "Are you?" He looked into Heather's eyes. He would know if she lied now.

"I am." She didn't look away and as she spoke the words, something deep within them seemed to stir, something dark. For a moment, she looked unhinged. 'She is. Just like you.' "Just like you. It's in their blood. They pass their madness onto us. Their curse is also a blessing."

Truth, all of it, even if he didn't understand the meaning of her words.

"For my warning, it was real. I paid dearly for doing that. I disobeyed a direct order." She lifted her dress to reveal her thighs and on one of them, was a huge burn mark. It looked like someone had pressed a burning hot metal disk onto the front of her leg. "If you want my advice. From what I've seen and heard, don't do anything that could remotely displease Therese. She's far worse than Kevin. And stay clear of Jeanette. I met her once. I never want to meet her again."

"What was that curse you talked about?" he wanted to know.

"You hear them, right? Whispers? If you listen close enough they tell you things. Sometimes in your dreams, sometimes when you're awake. Sometimes it's the truth, sometimes they lie. You have to learn how to sort the bullshit from the wisdom."

He didn't comment on it, but he had taken note of what she had said.

Vandal eyed the burn on her leg again. "Did speed up the healing process? It still looks really bad still."

"I did, but this is as fast as it will go. Bullet wounds, knives, whatever. Don't get burned. It's harder to heal. I don't know why." She covered it with her dress again.

"Thanks for the warning." He had expected to be furious, but somehow he was only slightly angry with her. She too, had been played, more or less.

He took out everything he needed to take her sample and Heather complacently gave him her arm. The words she had carved into her skin had completely healed and the scars were not reddened anymore. "He force you to do that to yourself?"

Heather shook her head. "He refused to let me drink for a night after the month was over and I cut them into my arms. I didn't lie when I said I don't remember doing it. I was going insane with withdrawal."

That didn't sound good. "So it's really addicting?" He had already suspected that.

"Yes." She watched as he got ready to take her blood. "You're going to see her again later when you bring that in right?"

"I will." He placed the needle on her arms and drove it in. "That almost sounds like you want to come with me," he grumbled. "That why you dressed so nicely and did your face?"

Heather laughed. "That's almost cute you think I want to come with you to see that two faced bitch again. Or did you think I wanted to ask you to have a few drinks at the club with me later? Nah, none of my money is going into any of her ventures."

"I don't drink." He wanted to know why she had dressed up. "So where are you going then? Because you look ready for a special occasion."

"I'm going downtown. I'm meeting with a friend."

'LIE!' The voice screamed it so loud it almost made Vandal wince and pull out the needle with the tube too early.

"Why would you lie about this?" His voice filled with malice. "Let 'me' give 'you' some advice. If I ever catch you lying to me again, you will regret it 'dearly'." It wasn't an empty threat. He would hurt her if she did. 'Knife in your back.' He pushed his thumb down on the needle in her arm so she would feel where it sat in her vein. "Believe me when I say, I am quite creative and I 'know' how to cause pain even with just a needle." He could see her face contort in discomfort as he pressed down even harder. "I could blow your vein right now."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Heather spoke quickly, clearly creeped out now. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone what I'm really doing downtown. Please don't make me tell you."

'Make her tell you.'

'He shouldn't.'

'Don't.'

'Please, do it.'

"You're lucky I don't really care what you're doing, so I won't ask." He removed the tourniquet and gently pulled out the needle. He sealed the tube and pocketed it.

Heather was about to get up, but he ordered, "Stay seated."

"Why? I feel fine," she protested.

'Don't argue with him! He's being so generous. So 'patient' after all you've done.'

"I know. I want to take a closer look at that burn while you're here." He moved over to the cupboards again and found some antibiotic ointment and a bandage.

"Oh, okay. Thanks." She lifted her dress again.

'Yes, thank him. You should be thanking him 'on your knees'!'

It was still red and there were a few blisters. "I'm going to put some ointment on it and bandage it. I want you to do this once or twice per day at home for a week to make sure it doesn't get infected."

She nodded. "I will."

When he was done, he handed her the ointment. "Take it with you."

A bit perplexed she took it. "Won't anyone miss that?"

"Nothing here is ever missed." And with that, he sent her back out to be on her way.

Back at the reception Bill was waiting for him. "Did you sent her out with stuff from the clinic?!"

"I did. You didn't see the massive burn she had on her leg."

"Why did the guys upstairs let her out of the ward anyway?" Bill questioned. "Seems like a mistake to me."

"I don't know, and I don't care," Vandal huffed. "I'm outta here. I'll be stopping by again in 3 days." He didn't give Bill a chance to even say goodbye. He just turned and left.

He went home before he went back to the Asylum. Still Hannah hadn't written and he was starting to worry. Not get suspicious, like he usually would have. No, he was genuinely worried. Especially with what the voices had said before she had left. He tried to push it down, but he could only dampen the feeling.

There was almost nobody at the club this early. When he entered, Cal greeted him with a genuine smile. "Hey, Vandal. You know who couldn't stop talking about you?"

"Beatrix?" It confused him. What possible reason could she have for talking about him?

"Absolutely. Said and I quote, 'He's the most awesome guy I ever met! Even laughed at my blind joke! He wasn't uncomfortable at all!'"

Vandal grinned, "I guess that's one of the nicest things anyone ever said about me."

Cal ignored that. "Therese is in her office."

"Thanks. I'll be back in a minute."

He took the elevator up and knocked on Therese's door.

"Enter."

He did. Therese was sitting in front of her computer with a look of frustration on her face.

"Do you have the blood sample?" she asked and looked up at him.

Vandal walked over and handed it to her, "Of course, Miss Voerman. I also got your email and did just as you instructed."

"Very well." She sighed. "Please, have a seat, Vandal."

As her eyes left him again he felt a slight sting. He wanted her to keep looking at him. Acknowledge his presence, make him feel important.

"I spoke with Beatrix earlier, and apparently the two of you have already met. She told me you watched her performance. Please, tell me, what's your opinion? It was my sister's idea to hire her. Do you think she'll be an asset to the club and bring in more people?"

"I do, Miss Voerman. The performance is very unusual, but it is very interesting to watch. Beatrix herself is quite unique in my honest opinion. I think it's a good choice. She also seems to be really good with people. Your bartender gets along with her well."

"I'm pleased to hear that." For a moment she was silent. "I have a few other matters to discuss with you. One of them in regards to the blood you're going to be selling. I only scratched the surface with what I wrote in my email."

Vandal sat and listened to what she was explaining to him for over 30 minutes. She was telling him about the different clans and sects, the Masquerade, the Camarilla, the Anarchs, a group called Sabbat, more about ghouls and their capabilities and talked at length about how for instance a wealthy person with a PhD and upper class people had blood of a higher quality and better taste, which he was to sell as 'blue blood' and save up for Ventrue customers and a few bags each he was to bring to her personally once a month.

What surprised him most though, was the small fact that she apparently only drank the blood from wine glasses.

'Spoiled like a queen.'

'She's a bitch.'

'Queen Bitch.'

"Do you have any questions?" Miss Voerman asked. "Let me be clear, you are to ask when you don't understand something. I want everything to run smoothly."

He did have a question, yes. "What do I do if supplies run low, or out?"

She smiled. "I'm sure you'll find someone to unwillingly part with all their blood. Just make sure they won't be missed. I do have ties to the police around here, but I'd rather not have to make use of that."

Perfect. Heather had been right. He was getting to do the things he never could before but always wanted to. "I will, you don't need to worry."

"Good, if you don't have any more questions you may leave now. Tell Beatrix to talk to my sister at around 11 tonight. I will let her know that she's to be here."

"Of course. Good night, Miss Voerman."

She only gave a curt nod and he hurried out, sensing her becoming slightly annoyed.

Downstairs at the bar again, he sat down to Cal grinning. "A minute, eh? Did she give you a full lecture? You were up there for over half an hour."

"She went over the documents with me. All the hospital supplies, boring stuff," he lied.

"I bet only boring for you," Beatrix chimed from the side, walking over. She had her blindfold on again, but this time she hadn't braided the ends of it into her hair. She had pulled it into a ponytail and secured it with a hair tie. "I'd like to hear about it. What kind of supplies? Does she have you counting blood bags?" She laughed and took the seat next to him.

Did she know he worked at the blood bank? He was tempted to answer yes, just to see her reaction and so he did. "Yes. We regularly have to do inventory and Miss Voerman checks on all her ventures." It wasn't even a lie. She did.

Cal turned his attention back to a customer approaching the bar.

"I kinda wanna hold a blood bag, just once. Just to know what that's like. Can I come to the blood bank to hold one?" she giggled.

"Absolutely not, no."

"How can you refuse the blind girl?" she asked in a pleading voice. But her plea was only halfhearted. She didn't seem to have really mean it in the first place. She had said it as a joke.

"Well, watch me," he retorted.

"Uhm, how exactly am I gonna do that?" she laughed. "Are you going to lend me your eyesight?"

"Smartass," he half growled, half chuckled. He had to watch his words around her, she wasn't stupid and she payed attention to details.

"Thanks! So now, you gonna give me your sight?"

And she also noted that he hadn't answered her. "I wouldn't if it would make me blind instead." He paused and thought for a moment. "If it were possible to have a cure for your blindness, would you take it?"

"No."

She couldn't see the shock on his face, but she could clearly hear it in his voice. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

She sighed, "I feel like it would be a step back. Frantically looking for a cure doesn't help anyone. We tried so many things and nothing worked. I know such a thing doesn't and probably won't exist. Hoping for it doesn't help me. I've learned so much in the time I've been blind. About myself and other people. I'm looking forward to the future and to me it doesn't matter if I'm blind. I'm enjoying my life and I'm still doing things I like. Dwelling on hypothetical questions like that serves no purpose."

For a moment, he was speechless. He had never expected an answer like this.

"Being blind is really hard sometimes, I won't deny that. You get used to it though, and then you just get on with your life even if it's different than before." She smiled at him.

"Well, I gotta say, you are inspiring." He really thought so.

"Thank you, Vandal. That means a lot."

"You're welcome." He looked her over again and for a moment, he wondered if she would even notice if he reached out towards her without actually touching her. "By the way, Therese told me to tell you that you're to speak with Jeanette around 11 PM tonight."

"Great, I will do that!"

"You seem to like her," he noted quite amused. "I've never met her, but I've had people tell me to stay away from her."

"Jeanette is quite eccentric and quite unique," Beatrix said. She sounded like she admired her. "Reminds me a bit of myself. She's definitely weird at times, but a completely different kind of weird."

"You think you're weird?" So what the hell was he then?

'Insane.' 'Infected with madness.'

Beatrix nodded. "I am. Bet you thought so when I said no to that cure."

"Not really. You explained and I understand where you're coming from."

"If you could, just for a day, give me your eyesight," she rephrased the question from earlier, "would you then do it?"

He felt like his answer to the question would be weighed against a measure he didn't know. "Maybe if I knew you better. As of now, the answer is still no."

Her smile changed. For but a fraction of a second it turned triumphant and he did not understand why.

"Very good." Her voice had a completely different tone to it now. There was a kind of satisfaction in it, as if his reply had been something she had wanted for a long time and now finally gotten. "You're one of the few people with a brain. You're good with me."

"Yeah, people with brains are really hard to come by these days," he growled in frustration even at the thought. "Thanks for the compliment."

"No need to thank me for that."

"You said you have a bit of vision left. Can you describe what you see?" he asked. He was quite curious about that.

"Hm… Take my sequin blindfold for instance. When a bright light hits it just right, I can kind of see it. An extremely blurry rectangle that's red, even though a very faded, desaturated red, and shimmery. But I can't really make out smaller details. If you stood in front of a window with sunlight pouring in, I could make out your silhouette."

Interesting.

Beatrix turned to him on her stool. "Do you want to play a game, Vandal?" she grinned.

"Don't you have to go back to work, I don't think you have time to play right now." She was strange. And what the hell kind of game was she even talking about anyway?

"Trust me, I got time for now. So, how about it, yes or no?"

He shook his head and sighed. "Fine, what kind of game do you want to play?"

"I ask you a few questions, and you either make stuff up, or tell me the truth. Then I try to guess which of your answers were lies."

How was that gonna work with her being unable to see his face?

"You get to ask the questions after," she giggled.

"Fine, shoot then."

"How old are you?" she asked.

"31," he answered truthfully.

"Do you have siblings?"

"I had a sister." He did not like talking about it. Thankfully Beatrix didn't comment on the fact he had said 'had'.

"Are you scared of dying and if you could live forever would you like to?"

He wasn't. And now that he thought of it, he now had the chance to live forever. Therese had said by drinking her blood he wouldn't age anymore, as long as he kept drinking it once a month. "I'm not scared of dying, but I'm not sure if I'd want to live forever. I feel like it would get boring after a long time."

She surprisingly called out his lie. "Your last statement wasn't true. You think the opposite. You'd love to watch as all the brainless tools that walk the earth eventually expired, one way or another, as you just kept moving on without a care in the world."

How could she know that? How could she have 'possibly' know that?

"I'm a very good judge of character," Beatrix laughed, probably assuming from the silence that he was in shock. "Your silence speaks volumes."

He wasn't in shock. He was suspicious now.

'She's older and more experienced than she looks…' the voices whispered.

"My turn to ask you questions then." His voice had dropped slightly. "And I need you to take off the blindfold."

"You're able to read faces?" she sounded uncomfortable all of a sudden, but she didn't refuse to take it off. She did and ran her finger over the sequin.

"I am." He reached out for her hand and felt her tense. He wasn't touching her yet, but she clearly seemed to feel his intention. She looked like she was about to pull her hand back, when he placed his over hers. "Why are you so nervous? Do you have something to hide?"

Yes, yes, she definitely had. "No, I don't. It just makes me nervous because there's stuff I don't like talking about, and I'm worried you'll pry if you know I'm not telling the truth."

'She has a lot of secrets.'

"Lie. You do have something to hide. I just don't know what it is yet."

He saw her swallow. He was right and she seemed almost worried by the fact that he knew. "How old are 'you'."

"29."

'But she got there slower.' He didn't know what that meant.

"Okay." He thought about the next question he wanted to ask. "Would you trust me enough to let me sighted guide you to a place of your choosing?"

"Only after letting Cal know where I'm going and when I'll be back. I don't trust you enough just yet. A healthy dose of distrust, as you well know, may save your skin one day." She wasn't fidgeting anymore. She turned the hand he had placed his over and curled her fingers around it. "Maybe the two of us will get to know each other well enough to know 'when' to trust the other and when not to."

He had the feeling that she wanted to get to know him and for once he didn't mind. She was interesting enough to make him want to find out more about her. "Maybe we will."

Now she was smiling again and then randomly asked, "Well, I think I'd like that. Wanna go to the diner across the street with me after my shift ends tonight? I was going anyway. I'd like the company."

He quickly checked his phone. Still no message from Hannah, so she probably wouldn't be able to make it tonight, even if she wrote at all. "Fine, what time?"

"11:15. Just wait in front of the diner. I'll come right after I talked to Jeanette." She released his hand. "I should get back to work. I can't wait to talk again later."

"Likewise." To find out who she really was and what she was hiding. To make her spill all her secrets to him.

He stood up. "See you later, Beatrix."

"Till later, Vandal."

He stepped outside and hoped she would tell him what Jeanette had talked about with her later. If his strange dream was to be trusted, they would end up getting to know each other well enough to… To do what together? What had they been doing? Who had the blond in his dream been? Moreover, how could he even think his dream could have any meaning at all or been a premonition.

'Because Therese told him it is quite possible. That the gift of insight in her blood, now runs through his veins in part as well.'

Heather had mentioned something similar as well, hadn't she? That the whispers would tell him things? And that he 'only needed to sort the bullshit from the wisdom'?

He let out a frustrated growl. Then he went home for the second time today.