"Can I ask just one more?" he entreated instead of answering my demand.

I was on edge, anxious for the worst. And yet, how tempting it was to prolong this moment. To have Masato with me, willingly, for just a few seconds longer. I sighed at the dilemma and then said, "One."

"Well...," he hesitated for a moment, as if deciding which question to voice. "You said you knew I hadn't gone into the bookstore, and that I hadn't gone into the bookstore, and that I had gone south. I was just wondering how you know that."

I glared out the windshield. Here was another question that revealed nothing on his part and too much on mine.

"I thought we were past all the evasiveness," he said, his tone critical and disappointed.

How ironic. He was relentlessly evasive, without even trying.

Well, he wanted me to be direct. And this conversation wasn't going anywhere good, regardless.

"Fine, then," I said. "I followed your scent."

I wanted to watch his face, but I was afraid of what I would see. Instead, I listened to his breath accelerate and then stabilize. He spoke again after a moment, and his voice was steadier than I would have expected.

"And then you didn't answer one of my first questions..." he said.

I looked down at him, frowning. He was stalling, too.

"Which one?"

"How does it work - the mind reading thing?" he asked, reiterating his question from the restaurant. "Can you read anybody's mind, anywhere? How do you do it? Can the rest of your family...?" He trailed off, flushing again.

"That's more than one," I said.

He just looked at me, waiting for his answers.

And why not tell him? He'd already guessed most of this, and it was an easier subject than the one that loomed.

"No, it's just me. And I can't hear anyone, anywhere. I have to be fairly close. The more familiar someone's... 'voice' is, the farther away I can hear them. But still, no more than a few miles." I tried to think of a way to describe it so that he would understand. An analogy that he could relate. "It's a little like being in a huge hall filled with people, everyone talking at once. It's just a hum - a buzzing of voices in the background. Until I focus on one voice, and then what they're thinking is clear. Most of the time I tune it all out - it can be very distracting. And then it's easier to seem normal," - I grimaced - "when I'm not accidentally answering someone's thoughts rather than their words."

"Why do you think you can't hear me?" he wondered.

I gave him another truth and another analogy.

"I don't know," I admitted. "The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM."

I realized that he would not like this analogy. The anticipation of his reaction had me smiling. He didn't disappoint.

"My mind doesn't work right?" he asked, his voice rising with chagrin. "I'm odd?"

Ah, the irony again.

"I hear voices in my mind and you're worried that you're the odd one out." I laughed. He understood all the small things, and yet the big ones he got backwards. Always the wrong instincts...

Masato was gnawing on his lip, and the crease between his eyes was etched deep.

"Don't worry," I reassured him. "It's just a theory..." And there was a more important theory to be discussed. I was anxious to get it over with. Each passing second was beginning to feel more and more like borrowed time.

"Which brings us back to you," I said, divided in two, both anxious and reluctant.

He sighed, still chewing his lip - I worried that he would hurt himself. He stared into my eyes, his face troubled.

"Aren't we past all the evasions now?" I asked quietly.

He looked down, struggling with some internal dilemma. Suddenly, he stiffened and his eyes flew wide open. Fear flashed across his face for the first time. He gasped loudly.

I panicked. What had he seen? How had I frightened him?

Then he shouted, "Slow down!"

"What's wrong?" I didn't understand where his terror was coming from.

"You're going a hundred miles an hour!" he yelled at me. He flashed a look out the window and recoiled from the dark trees racing past us.

This little thing, just a bit of speed, had him shouting in fear?

I rolled my eyes. "Relax, Masato."

"Are you trying to kill us?" he demanded, his voice high and tight.

"We're not going to crash," I promised him.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and then spoke in a slightly more level tone. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I always drive like this."

I met his gaze, amused by his shocked expression.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" he shouted.

"I've never been in an accident, Masato. I've never even gotten a ticket." I grinned at him and touched my forehead. It made it even more comical - the absurdity of being able to joke with him about something so secret and strange. "Built in radar detector."

"Very funny," he said sarcastically, his voice more frightened than angry. "I won't hesitate to turn you in. I was raised to abide by traffic laws. Besides, if you turn us into a Pacifica pretzel around a tree tunk, you can probably just walk away."

"Probably," I repeated, and then laughed without humor. Yes, we would fare quite differently in a car accident. He was right to be afraid, despite my driving abilities... "But you can't."

With a sigh, I let the car drift to a crawl. "Happy?"

He eyed the speedometer. "Almost."

Was this still too fast for him? "I hate driving slow," I muttered, but let the needle slide another notch down.

"This is slow?" he asked.

"Enough commentary on my driving," I said impatiently. How many times had he dodged my question now? Three times? Four? Were his speculations that horrific? I had to know - immediately. "I'm still waiting for your latest theory."

He bit his lip again, and his expression became upset, almost pained.

I reigned in my impatience and softened my voice. I didn't want him to be distressed.

"I won't laugh," I promised, wishing that it was only embarrassment that made him unwilling to talk.

"I'm more afraid that you'll be angry with me," he whispered.

I forced my voice to stay even. "Is it that bad?"

"Very much so, yes."

He looked down, refusing to meet my eyes. The seconds passed.

"Go ahead," I encouraged.

His voice was small. "I don't know how to start."

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" I remembered his words from dinner. "You said you didn't come up with this on your own."

"No," he agreed, and then was silent again.

I thought about things that might have inspired him. "What got you started - a book? A movie?"

I should have looked through his collections when he was out of the house. I had no idea what kind of novels he owned...

"No," he said again. "It was Saturday at the beach."

I hadn't expected that. The local gossip about us never strayed into anything too bizarre - or too precise. Was there a new rumor I'd missed? Masato peeked up from his hands and saw the surprise on my face.

"I ran into an old family friend - Ren Jinguji," he went on. "My family and his have been business partners for a long time, since before I was born."

Ren Jinguji - the name was not familiar, and yet it reminded me of something... some time, long ago... I stared out of the windshield, flipping through memories to find the connection.

"His family dates back to the Ainu people. His brother tries to uphold their traditions," he said.

Ren Jinguji. Koshamain Jinguji. A descendant, no doubt.

It was as bad as it could get.

He knew the truth.

My mind was flying through the ramifications as the car flew around the dark curves in the road, my body rigid with anguish - motionless except for the small, automatic actions it took to steer the car.

He knew the truth.

But... if he'd learned the truth Saturday... then he'd known it all evening long... and yet...

"We went for a walk," he went on. "And he was telling me about some old legends - trying to scare me, I think. He told me one..."

He stopped short, but there was no need for his qualms now; I knew what he was going to say. The only mystery left was why he was here with me now.

"GO on," I said.

"About vampires," he breathed, the words less than a whisper.

Somehow, it was even worse than knowing that he knew, hearing him speak the word aloud. I flinched at the sound of it, and then controlled myself again.

"And you immediately thought of me?" I asked.

"No. He... mentioned your family."

How ironic that it would be Koshamain's own progeny that would violate the treaty he'd vowed to uphold. A grandson, or great-grandson perhaps. How many years had it been? One hundred?

I should have realized that it was not the old men who believed in the legends that would be the danger. Of course, the younger generation - those who would have been warned, but would have thought the ancient superstitions laughable - of course that was where the danger of exposure would lie.

I supposed this meant I was now free to slaughter the small, defenseless tribe on the coastline, were I so inclined. Koshamain and his pack of protectors were long dead...

"He just thought it was a silly superstition - a mere story," Masato said suddenly, his voice edged with a new anxiety. "He didn't expect me to think anything of it."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him twist his hands uneasily.

"It was my fault," he said after a bried pause, and then he hung his head as if he were ashamed. "I forced him to tell me."

"Why?" It wasn't so hard to keep my voice level now. The worst was already done. As long as we spoke of the details of the revelation, we didn't have to move on to the consequences of it.

"Hinako said something about you - she was trying to provoke me." He made a little face at the memory. I was slightly distracted, wondering how Masato would be provoked by someone talking about me... "And an older boy from the tribe said your family didn't come to that beach, only it sounded like he meant something different. So I got Ren alone and tricked it out of him."

His head dropped even lower as he admitted this, and his expression looked... guilty.

I looked away from him and laughed out loud. He felt guilty? What could he possibly have done to deserve censure of any kind?

"Tricked him how?" I asked.

"I played into his flirtatious games - it worked better than I thought it would have," he explained, and his voice turned incredulous at the memory of that success.

I could just imagine - considering the attraction he seemed to have for all things human related, totally unconscious on his part - how overwhelming he would be when he tried to be attractive. Then I realized he said he was returning the flirting, which made me want to kill the Jinguji kid.

"I'd like to have seen that," I said, and then I laughed again with the black humor. I wished I could have seen his reaction when silent Masato returned his advances. It must have thrown him off. The devastation would've been entertaining. "And you accused me of dazzling people - poor Ren Jinguji."

I wasn't as angry with the source of my exposure as I would have expected to feel. He didn't know any better. And how could I expect anyone to deny this boy what he wanted? No, I only felt sympathy for the damage he would have done to his peace of mind.

I felt his blush heat the air between us. I glanced at him, and he was staring out his window. He didn't speak again.

"What did you do then?" I prompted. Time to get back to the horror story.

"I did some research on the internet."

Ever practical. "And did that convince you?"

"No," he said. "Nothing fit. Most of it was kind of silly, and then-"

He broke off again, and I heard his teeth lock together.

"What?" I demanded. What had he found? What had made sense of the nightmare for him?

There was a short pause, and then he whispered, "I decided it didn't matter."

Shock froze my thoughts for a half-second, and then it all fit together. Why he'd sent his friends away tonight rather than escape with them. Why he had gotten into my car with me again instead of running, screaming for the police...

His reactions were always wrong - always completely wrong. He pulled danger toward himself. He invited it.

"It didn't matter?" I said through my teeth, anger filling me. How was I supposed to protect someone so... so... so determined to be unprotected?

"No," he said in a low voice that was inexplicably tender. "It doesn't matter to me what you are."

He was impossible.

"You don't care if I'm a monster? If I'm not human?"

"No."

I started to wonder if he was entirely stable.

I supposed that I could arrange for him to receive the best care available... Ryuya would have connections to find him the most skilled doctors, the most talented therapists. Perhaps something could be done to fix whatever it was that was wrong with him, whatever it was that made him content to sit beside a vampire with his heart beating calmly and steadily. I would watch over the facility, naturally, and visit as often as I was allowed...

"You're angry," he sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything."

As if him hiding these disturbing tendencies would help either of us.

"No. I'd rather know what you're thinking - even if what you're thinking is insane."

"So I'm wrong again?" he asked, a bit belligerent now.

"That's not what I was referring to!" My teeth clenched together again. "'It doesn't matter'!" I repeated in a scathing tone.

He gasped. "I'm right?"

"Does it matter?" I countered.

He took a deep breath. I waited angrily for his answer.

"Not really," he said, his voice composed again. "But I am curious."

Not really. It didn't really matter. He didn't care. He knew I was inhuman, a monster, and this didn't really matter to him.

Aside from my worries about his sanity, I began to feel a swelling of hope. I tried to quash it.

"What are you curious about?" I asked him. There were no secrets left, only minor details.

"How old are you?" he asked.

My answer was automatic and ingrained. "Eighteen."

"And how long have you been eighteen?"

I tried not to smile at the patronizing tone. "A while," I admitted.

"Okay," he said, abruptly enthusiastic. He smiled up at me. When I stared back, anxious again about his mental health, he smiled wider. I grimaced.

"Don't laugh," he warned. "How can you come out during the daytime?"

I laughed despite his request. His research had not netted him anything unusual, it seemed. "Myth," I told him.

"Burned by the sun?"

"Myth."

"Sleeping in coffins?"

"Myth."

Sleep had not been a part of my life for so long - not until these last few nights, as I'd watched Masato dreaming...

"I can't sleep," I murmured, answering his question more fully.

He was silent for a moment.

"At all?" he asked.

"Never," I breathed.

I stared into his eyes, wide under his fringe of lashes, and yearned for sleep. Not for oblivion, as I had before, not to escape boredom, but because I wanted to dream. Maybe, if I could be unconscious, if I could dream, I could live for a few hours in a world where he and I could be together. He dreamed of me. I wanted to dream of him.

He stared back at me, his expression full of wonder. I had to look away.

I could not dream of him. He should not dream of me.

"You haven't asked me the most important question yet," I said, my silent chest colder and harder than before. He had to be forced to understand. At some point, he would have to realize what he was doing now. He must be made to see that this all did matter - more than any other consideration. Considerations like the fact that I loved him.

"Which one is that?" he asked, surprised and unaware.

This only made my voice harder. "You aren't concerned about my diet?"

"Oh. That." He spoke in a quiet tone that I couldn't interpret.

"Yes, that. Don't you want to know if I drink blood?"

He cringed away from my question. Finally. He was understanding.

"Well, Ren said something about that," he said.

"What did Ren say?"

"He said you didn't... hunt people. He said your family wasn't supposed to be dangerous because you only hunted animals."

"He said we weren't dangerous?" I repeated cynically.

"Not exactly," he clarified. "He said you weren't supposed to be dangerous. But the Ainu still didn't want you on their land, just in case."

I stared at the road, my thoughts in a hopeless snarl, my throat aching with the familiar fiery thrist.

"So, was he right?" he asked, as calmly as if he were confirming a weather report. "About not hunting people?"

"The Ainu have a long memory."

He nodded to himself, thinking hard.

"Don't let that make you complacent, though," I said quickly. "They're right to keep their distance from us. We are still dangerous."

"I don't understand."

No, he didn't. How to make him see?

"We try," I told him. "We're usually very good at what we do. Sometimes we make mistakes, though. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you."

His scent was still a force in the car. I was growing used to it, I could almost ignore it, but there was no denying that my body still yearned toward him for the wrong reason. My mouth was swimming with venom.

"This is a mistake?" he asked, and there was heartbreak in his voice. The sound of it disarmed me. He wanted to be with me - despite everything, he wanted to be with me.

Hope swelled again, and I beat it back.

"A very dangerous one," I told him truthfully, wishing the truth could really somehow cease to matter.

He didn't respond for a moment. I heard his breathing change - it hitched in strange ways that did not sound like fear.

"Tell me more," he said suddenly, his voice distorted by anguish.

I examined him carefully.

He was in pain. How had I allowed this?

"What more do you want to know?" I asked, trying to think of a way to keep him from hurting. He should not hurt. I couldn't let him be hurt.

"Tell me why you hunt animals instead of people," he said, still anguished.

Wasn't it obvious? Or maybe this didn't matter to him either.

"I don't want to be a monster," I muttered.

"But animals aren't enough?"

I searched for another comparison, a way he could understand. "I can't be sure, of course, but I'd compare it to living on tofu and soy milk; we call ourselves vegetarians, our little inside joke. It doesn't completely satiate the hunger - or rather thirst. But it keeps us strong enough to resist. Most of the time." My voice got lower; I was ashamed of the danger I allowed him to be in. Danger I continued to allow... "Sometimes it's more difficult than others."

"Is it very difficult for you now?"

I sighed. Of course he would ask the question I didn't want to answer. "Yes," I admitted.

I expected his physical response correctly this time; his breathing held steady, his heart kept its even pattern. I expected it, but I did not understand it. How could he not be afraid?

"But you're not hungry now," he declared, perfectly sure of himself.

"Why do you think that?"

"Your eyes," he said, his tone offhand. "I told you I had a theory. I've noticed that people - men in particular - are crabbier when they're hungry."

I chuckled at his description: crabby. There was an understatement. But he was dead right, as usual. "You're obsercant, aren't you?" I laughed again.

He smiled a little, the crease returning between his eyes as if he were concentrating on something.

"Were you hunting this weekend, with Syo?" he asked after my laugh had faded. The casual way he spoke was as fascinating as it was frustrating. Could he really accept so much in stride? I was closer to shock than he seemed to be.

"Yes," I told him, and then, as I was about to leave it at that, I felt the same urge I'd had in the restaurant: I wanted him to know me. "I didn't want to leave," I went on slowly, "but it was necessary. It's a bit easier to be around you when I'm not thirsty."

"Why didn't you want to leave?"

I took a deep breath, and then turned to meet his gaze. This kind of honesty was difficult in a very different way.

"It makes me... anxious," I supposed that word would suffice, though it wasn't strong enough, "to be away from you. I wasn't joking when I asked you to try not to fall in the ocean or get run over last Thursday. I was distracted all weekend, worrying about you. And after what happened tonight, I'm surprised that you did make it through a whole weekend unscathed." Then I remembered the scrapes on his palms. "Well, not totally unscathed," I amended.

"What?"

"Your hands," I reminded him.

He sighed and grimaced. "I fell."

I'd guessed right. "That what's I thought," I said, unable to contain my smile. "I suppose, being you, it could have been much worse - and that possibility tormented me the entire time I was away. It was a very long three days. I really got on Syo's nerves." Honestly, that didn't belong in the past tense. I was probably still irritating Syo, and all the rest of my family, too. Except Haruka...

"Three days?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharp. "Didn't you just get back today?"

I didn't understand the edge in his voice. "No, we got back Sunday."

"Then why weren't any of you in school?" he demanded. His irritation confused me. He didn't seem to realize that this question was one related to mythology again.

"Well, you asked if the sun hurt me, and it doesn't," I said. "But I can't go out in the sunlight, at least, not where anyone can see."

That distracted him from his mysterious annoyance. "Why?" he asked, leaning his head to one side.

I doubted I could come up with an appropriate analogy to explain this one. Haven't I terrified him enough for one day? I just left it at, "I'll show you sometime." And then I wondered if this was a promise I would end up breaking. Would I see him again, after tonight? Did I love him enough yet to be able to bear leaving him?

"You might have called me," he said.

What an odd conclusion. "But I knew you were safe."

"But I didn't know where you were. I-" He came to an abrupt stop and looked at his hands.

"What?"

"I didn't enjoy it either," he said rather shyly, the skin over his cheekbones warming. "Not seeing you. It makes me anxious as well."

Are you happy now? I demanded of myself. Well, here was my reward for hoping.

I was bewildered, elated, horrified - mostly horrified - to realize that all my wildest imaginings were not so far off the mark. This was why it didn't matter to him that I was a monster. It was exactly the same reason that the rules no longer mattered to me. Why right and wrong were no longer compelling influences. Why all my priorities had shifted one rung down to make room for this boy at the very top.

Masato cared for me, too.

I knew it could be nothing in comparison to how I loved him. But it was enough to risk his life to sit here with me. To do so gladly.

Enough to cause him pain if I did the right thing and left him.

Was there anything I could do now that would not hurt him? Anything at all?

I should have stayed away. I should never have come back to Utashinai. I would cause him nothing but pain.

Would that stop me from staying now? From making it worse?

The way I felt right now, feeling his warmth against my skin...

No. Nothing would stop me.

"Ah," I groaned to myself. "This is wrong."

"What did I say?" he asked, quick to take the blame on himself.

"Don't you see, Masato? It's one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved. I don't want to hear that you feel that way." It was the truth, it was a lie. The most selfish part of me was flying with the knowledge that he wanted me as I wanted him. "It's wrong. It's not safe. I'm dangerous, Masato - please, grasp that."

"No." His lips pouted out petulantly.

"I'm serious." I was battling with myself so strongly - half desperate for him to accept, half desperate to keep the warnings from escaping - that the words came through my teeth as a growl.

"So am I," he insisted. "I told you, it doesn't matter what you are. It's too late."

Too late? The world was bleakly black and white for one endless second as I watched the shadows crawl across the sunny lawn toward Masato's sleeping form in my memory. Inevitable, unstoppable. They stole the color from his skin and plunged him into darkness.

Too late? Haruka's vision swirled in my head, Masato's dark as night black eyes staring back at me impassively. Expression;ess - but there was no way he could not hate me for that future. Hate me for stealing everything from him. Stealing his life and his soul.

It could not be too late.

"Never say that," I hissed.

He stared out the window, and his teeth bit into his lip again. His hands were balled into tight fists in his lap. His breathing hitched and broke.

"What are you thinking?" I had to know.

He shook his head without looking at me. I saw something glisten, like a crystal, on his cheek.

Agony. "Are you crying?" I'd made him cry. I'd hurt him that much.

He harshly scrubbed the tears away with the back of his hand.

"No," he lied, his voice breaking, but the underlying anger was apparent.

Some long buried instinct had me reaching out toward him - in that one second I felt more human than I ever had. And then I remembered that I was... not. And I lowered my hand.

"I'm sorry," I said, my jaw locked. How could I ever tell him how sorry I was? Sorry for all the stupid mistakes I'd made. Sorry for my never-ending selfishness. Sorry that he was so unfortunate as to have inspired this first, tragic love of mine. Sorry also for the things beyond my control - that I'd been the monster chosen by fate to end his life in the first place.

I took a deep breath - ignoring my wretched reaction to the flavor in the car - and tried to collect myself.

I wanted to change the subject, to think of something else. Lucky for me, my curiosity about the boy was insatiable. I always had a question.

"Tell me something," I said.

"Yes?" he asked huskily, tears as well as frustration still in his voice.

"What were you thinking tonight, just before I came around the corner? I couldn't understand your expression - you didn't look that scared, you looked like you were concentrating very hard on something." I remembered his face - forcing myself to forget whose eyes I was looking through - the look of determination there.

"I was trying to remember how to incapacitate an attacker," he said, his voice more composed. "You know, self defense. I was going to smash his nose into his head." His composure did not last to the end of his explanation. His tone twisted until it seethed with hate. This was no hyperbole, and his kittenish fury was not humorous now. I could see his frail figure - just silk over glass - overshadowed by meaty, heavy-fisted human monsters who would have hurt him. The fury boiled in the back of my head.

"You were going to fight them?" I wanted to groan. His instincts were deadly - to himself. "Didn't you think about running?"

"I fall down a lot when I run," he said sheepishly.

"What about screaming for help?"

"I was getting to that part."

I shook my head in disbelief. How had he managed to stay alive before he'd come to Utashinai?

"You were right," I told him, a sour edge to my voice. "I'm definitely fighting fate trying to keep you alive."

He sighed and glanced out the window. Then he looked back at me.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he demanded abruptly.

As long as I was on my way to hell - I might as well enjoy the journey.

"Yes - I have a paper due, too." I smiled at him, and it felt good to do this. "I'll save you a seat at lunch."

His heart fluttered; my dead heart suddenly felt warmer.

I stopped the car in front of his mother's house. He made no move to leave me.

"Do you promise to be there tomorrow?" he insisted.

"I promise."

How could doing the wrong thing give me so much happiness? Surely there was something amiss in nodded to himself, satisfied, and started to remove my jacket.

"You can keep it," I assured him quickly. I rather wanted to leave him with something of myself. A token, like the bottle cap that was in my pocket now... "You don't have a jacket for tomorrow."

He handed it back to me, smiling ruefully. "I don't want to have to explain to Misaki," he told me.

I would imagine not. I smiled at him. "Oh, right."

He put his hand on the door handle, and then stopped. Unwilling to leave, just as I was unwilling for him to go.

To have him unprotected, even for a few moments...

Daiki and Kaoru were well on their way by now, long past Sapporo, no doubt. But there were others. This world was not a safe place for any human, and for him it seemed to be more dangerous than it was for the rest.

"Masato?" I asked, surprised at the pleasure there was in simply speaking his name.

"Yes?"

"Will you promise me something?"

"Yes," he agreed easily, and then his eyes tightened as if he'd thought of a reason to object.

"Don't go into the woods alone," I warned him, wondering if this request would trigger the objection in his eyes.

He blinked, startled. "Why?"

I glowered into the untrustworthy darkness. The lack of light was no problem for my eyes, but neither would it trouble another hunter. It only blinded humans.

"I'm not always the most dangerous thing out there," I told him. "Let's leave it at that."

He shivered, but recovered quickly and was even smiling when he told me, "Whatever you say."

His breath touched my face, so sweet and fragrant.

I could stay here all night like this, but he needed his sleep. The two desires seemed equally strong as they continually warred inside me: wanting him versus wanting him to be safe.

I sighed at the impossibilities. "I'll see you tomorrow," I said, knowing that I would see him much sooner than that. He wouldn't see me until tomorrow, though.

"Tomorrow, then," he agreed as he opened his door.

Agony again, watching him leave.

I leaned after him, wanting to hold him there. "Masato?"

He turned, and then froze, surprised to find our faces so close together.

I, too, was overwhelmed by the proximity. The heat rolled off him in waves, caressing my face. I could all but feel the silk of his skin...

His heartbeat stuttered, and his lips fell open.

"Sleep well," I whispered, and leaned away before the urgency in my body - either the familiar thirst or the very new and strange hunger I suddenly felt - could make me do something that might hurt him.

He sat there motionless for a moment, his eyes wide and stunned. Dazzled, I guessed.

As was I.

He recovered - though his face was still a bit bemused - and half fell out of the car, tripping over his feet and having to catch the frame of the car to right himself.

I chuckled - hopefully it was too quiet for him to hear.

I watched him walk up to the pool of light that surrounded the front door. Safe for the moment. And I would be back soon to make sure.

I could feel his eyes follow me as I drove down the dark street. Such a different sensation than I was accustomed to. Usually, I could simply watch myself through someone's following eyes, were I of a mind to. This was strangely exciting - this intangible sensation of watching eyes. I knew it was just because they were his eyes.

A million thoughts chased each other through my head as I drove aimlessly into the night.

For a long time I circled the streets, going nowhere, thinking of Masato and the incredible release of having the truth known. No longer did I have to dread that he would find out what I was. He knew. It didn't matter to him. Even though this was obviously a bad thing for him, it was amazingly liberating for me.

More than that, I thought of Masato and requited love. He couldn't love me the way I loved him - such an overpowering, all-consuming, crushing love would probably break his fragile body. But he felt strongly enough. Enough to subdue the instinctive fear. Enough to want to be with me. And being with him was the greatest happiness I had ever known.

For a while - as I was all alone and hurting no one else for a change - I allowed myself to feel that happiness without dwelling on the tragedy. Just to be happy that he cared for me. Just to exult in the triumph of winning his affection. Just to imagine day after day of sitting close to him, hearing his voice and earning his smiles.

I replayed that smile in my head, seeing his full lips pull up at the corners, the hint of a dimple that touched his pointed chin, the way his eyes warmed and melted... His fingers had felt so warm and soft on my hand tonight. I imagined how it would feel to touch the delicate skin that stretched over his cheekbones - silky, warm... so fragile. Silk over glass... frighteningly breakable.

I didn't see where my thoughts were leading until it was too late. As I dwelt on that devastating vulnerability, new images of his face intruded on my fantasies.

Lost in the shadows, pale with fear - yet his jaw tight and determined, his eyes fierce and full of concentration, his slim body braced to strike at the hulking forms that gathered around him, nightmares in the gloom...

"Ah," I groaned as the simmering hate that I'd all but forgotten in the joy of loving him burst again into an inferno of rage.

I was alone. Masato was, I trusted, safe inside his home; for a moment I was fiercely glad that Misaki Hijirikawa - a well-trained nurse - was his mother. That ought to mean something, provide some shelter for him.

He was safe. It would not take me so very long to avenge the insult...

No. He deserved better. I could not allow him to care for a murderer.

But... what about the others?

Masato was safe, yes. Yuki and Saki were also, surely, safe in their beds.

Yet a monster was loose in the streets of Chitose. A human monster - did that make him the humans' problem? To commit the murder I ached to commit was wrong. I knew that. But leaving him free to attack again could not be the right thing either.

The brunette hostess from the restaurant. The waitress I'd never really looked at. Both had irritated me in a trivial way, but that did not mean they deserved to be in danger.

Either one of them might be somebody's Masato.

That realization decided me.

I turned the car north, accelerating now that I had a purpose. Whenever I had a problem that was beyond me - something tangible like this - I knew where I could go for help.

Haruka was sitting on the porch, waiting for me. I pulled to a stop in front of the house rather than going around to the garage.

"Ryuya's in his study," Haruka told me before I could ask.

"Thank you," I said, tousling her hair as I passed.

Thank you for returning my call, she thought a little saddened.

"Oh." I paused by the door, pulling out my phone and flipping it open. "Sorry. i didn't even check to see who it was. I was... busy."

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, too. By the time I saw what was going to happen, you were on your way."

"It was close," I murmured.

Sorry, he repeated, ashamed of herself.

It was easy to be generous, knowing that Masato was fine. "Don't be. I know you can't catch everything. No one expects you to be omniscient, Haruka."

"Thanks."

"I almost asked you out to dinner tonight - did you catch that before I changed my mind?"

She grinned. "No, I missed that one, too. Wish I'd known. I would have come."

"What were you concentrating on that you missed so much?"

Natsuki's thinking about our anniversary. She laughed. He's trying not to make a decision on my gift, but I think I have a pretty good idea...

"You're shameless."

"I just don't want him to outdo me." She pouted.

I chuckled at her response. She used her gift for some of the oddest things.

She pursed her lips, and stared up at me, a hint of accusation in her expression. I paid better attention later. Are you going to tell them that he knows?

I sighed. "Yes. Later."

I won't say anything. Do me a favor and tell Ai when I'm not around, okay?

I flinched. "Sure."

Masato took it pretty well.

"Too well."

Haruka grinned at me. Don't underestimate Masato.

I tried to block the image I didn't want to see - Masato and Haruka, discussing ideas about new compositions.

Impatient now, I sighed heavily. I wanted to be through with the next part of the evening; I wanted it over with. But I was a little worried to leave Utashinai...

"Haruka..." I began. She saw what I was planning to ask.

He'll be fine tonight. I'm keeping a better watch now. He sort of needs twenty-four supervision, doesn't he?

"At least."

"Anyway, you'll be with him soon enough."

I took a deep breath. The words were beautiful to me.

"Go on - get this done so you can be where you want to be," she told me.

I nodded, and hurried up to Ryuya's room.

He was waiting for me, his eyes on the door rather than the thick book on his desk.

"I heard Haruka tell you where to find me," he said and smiled.

It was a relief to be with him, to see the empathy and deep intelligence in his eyes. Ryuya would know what to do.

"I need help."

"Anything, Tokiya," he promised.

"Did Haruka tell you what happened to Masato tonight?"

Almost happened, he amended.

"Yes, almost. I've got a dilemma, Ryuya. You see, I want... very much... to kill him." The words started to flow fast and passionate. "So much. But I know that would be wrong because it would be vengeance, not justice. All anger, no impartiality. Still, it can't be right to leave a serial killer wandering Chitose! I don't know the humans there, but I can't let someone else take Masato's place as his victim. Those other humans - someone might feel about them the way I feel about Masato. Might suffer what I would have suffered if he'd been harmed. It's not right-"

His wide, unexpected smile stopped the rush of my words cold.

He's very good for you, isn't he? So much compassion, so much control. I'm impressed.

"I'm not looking for compliments, Ryuya."

"Of course not. But I can't help my thoughts, can I?" He smiled again. "I'll take care of it. You can rest easy. No one else will be harmed in Masato's place."

I saw the plan in his head. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, it did not satisfy my craving for brutality, but I could see that it was the right thing.

"I'll show you where to find him," I said.

"Let's go."

He grabbed his black bag on the way. I would have preferred a more aggressive form of sedation - like a cracked skull - but I would let Ryuya do this his way.

We took my car. Haruka was still on the steps. She grinned and waved as we drove away. I saw that she had looked ahead for me; we would have no difficulties.

The trip was very short on the dark, empty road. I left off my headlights to keep from attracting attention. It made me smile to think how Masato would have reacted to this pace. I'd already been driving slower than usual - to prolong my time with him - when he'd objected.

Ryuya was thinking of Masato, too.

I didn't foresee that he would be so good for him. That's unexpected. Perhaps this was somehow meant to be. Perhaps it serves a higher purpose. Only...

He pictured Masato with snow cold skin and pitch-black eyes, and then flinched away from the image.

Yes. Only. Indeed. Because how could there be any good in destroying something so pure and lovely?

I glowered into the night, all the joy of the evening destroyed by his thoughts.

Tokiya deserves happiness. He's owed it. the fierceness of Ryuya's thoughts surprised me. There must be a way.

I wished I could believe that - either one. But there was no higher purpose to what was happening to Masato. Just a vicious harpy, an ugly, bitter fate who could not bear for Masato to have the life he deserved.

I did not linger in Chitose. I took Ryuya to where the creature named Kazuo was drowning his disappointment with his friends - two of whom had already passed out. Ryuya could see how hard it was for me to be so close - for emt o hear the monster's thoughts and see his memories, memories of Masato mixed in with less fortunate humans who no one could save now.

My breathing sped. I clenched the steering wheel.

Go, Tokiya, he told me gently. I'll make the rest of them safe. You go back to Masato.

It was exactly the right thing to say. His name was the only distraction that could mean anything to me now.

I left him in the car and ran back to Utashinai in a straight line through the sleeping forest. It took less time than the first journey in the speeding car. It was just minutes later that I scaled the side of his house and slid his window out of my way.

I sighed silently with relief. Everything was just as it should be. Masato was safe in his bed, dreaming, his wet hair tangled like seaweed across the pillow.

But, unlike most nights, he was curled into a small ball with the covers stretched taut around his shoulders. Cold, I guessed. Before I could settle into my usual seat, he shivered in his sleep, and his lips trembled.

I thought for a brief moment, and the eased out into the hallway, exploring another part of his house for the first time.

Misaki's breathing was even. I could almost catch the edge of her dream. Something with the rush of water and patience... enjoying the peace of the water's edge it seemed.

There, at the top of the stairs, was a promising looking cabinet. I opened it hopefully, and found what I was looking for. I selected the thickest blanket from the rather large linen cabinet and took it back to his room. I would return it before he woke, and no one would be the wiser.

Holding my breath, I cautiously spread the blanket over him; he didn't react to the added weight. I returned to the rocking chair.

While I waited anxiously for him to warm up, I thought of Ryuya, wondering where he was now. I knew his plan would go smoothly - Haruka had seen that.

Thinking of my 'father' made me sigh - Ryuya gave me too much credit. I wished I was the person he thought me to be. That person, the one who deserved happiness, might hope to be worthy of this sleeping boy. How different things would be if I could be that Tokiya.

As I pondered this, a strange, uncalled image filled my head.

For one moment, the hag-faced fate I'd imagined, the one who sought Masato's destruction, was replaced by the most foolish and reckless of angels. A guardian angel - something Ryuya's version of me might have had. With a heedless smile on her lips, her sky-colored eyes full of mischief, the angel formed Masato in such a fashion that there was no way that I could possibly overlook him/ A ridiculously potent scent to demand my attention, a silent mind to enflame my curiosity, a quiet beauty to hold my eyes, a selfless soul to earn my awe. Leave out the natural sense of self-preservation - so that Masato could bear to be near me - and, finally, add a wide streak of appallingly bad luck.

With a careless laugh, the irresponsible angel propelled her fragile creation directly in my path, trusting blithely in my flawed morality to keep Masato alive.

In this vision, I was not Masato's sentence; he was my reward.

I shook my head at the fantasy of the unthinking angel. He was not much better than the harpy. I could not think well of a higher power that would behave in such a dangerous and stupid manner. At least the ugly fate I could fight against.

And I had no angel. They were reserved for the good - for people like Masato. So where was his angel through all this? Who was watching over him?

I laughed silently, startled, as I realized that, just now, I was filling that role.

A vampire angel - that was a stretch.

After about a half hour, Masato relaxed out of the tight ball. His breathing got deeper, and he started to murmur. I smiled, satisfied. It was a small thing, but at least he was sleeping more comfortably tonight because I was here.

"Tokiya," he sighed, and he smiled, too.

I shoved tragedy aside for the moment, and let myself be happy again.