I slept through the next day. And let me tell you, it was great.

As nice as Lucy was, it was a relief not to be smiling false smiles and being annoyingly cheerful. For once, I really, truly got to sleep in as nature intended me to. Thank God.

I got up, got dressed, paid Lucy a visit. She was entirely asleep and didn't make any noise. I was tempted to kick Mina's bed when I passed, but I doubted that would help me accomplish my goals. Ah well. Maybe soon.

Afterwards, I had the whole of the town to myself.

I went back to Carfax.

I lead an exciting life.

The next evening I misted in, Lucy was awake. Mina was fully unconscious, but dear Miss Westenra was sitting with her back to the wall and her knees up to her chest. She looked quite tired.

"How are you doing that?" she yawned.

"I'm not. You're dreaming." I think the "dreaming" excuse is probably the stupidest excuse in the history of excuse-making. Have you ever had a dream where one of the characters in it says it's one? I haven't. No one I know has.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Could I fly, then?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"How long have you gone without sleep, Lucy?"

She tried to stifle a yawn. "I think twenty-three hours."

I folded my arms. "Lay down. Now."

She did and was asleep within five minutes.

"Humans," I muttered.

Lucy did not try to stay up for me for a long while, which just made my job that much easier. A little duller, perhaps, but that is evidently the price of companionship. It was a price I could deal with. For a while.

I say "for a while" because when things get too dull- you've noticed this, I'm sure- I get twitchy. That's why I keep Katherina around. Things don't ever get too dull.

The days passed.

On August 19th, something interesting happened. Finally. Two interesting things, actually.

When I came in, not only was Mina's bed empty (YES!) and unslept in, Lucy was awake again. She'd planned this one, she had a cup of straight coffee in her hands. "I'm definitely not dreaming now."

Lucy was looking less alive. She was thinner, her hair was not as bright, and despite the fact that she was sucking down more coffee than air, she still looked exhausted. Good. She was well on her way to being a vampire- not a "vampiress," "vampire" is a platonic term. I hoped I could turn her quickly and avoid a lot of pain and confusion.

"Are you sure?"

"Fairly sure. I'm drinking coffee."

"Maybe you're only dreaming drinking coffee."

She did not look like she had enough with energy to debate this. "Possibly."

I considered pushing it, but decided not to. "Where did Mina go?"

"To get Jonathan."

I could not have heard that right. "I'm sorry, what?"

"To get Jonathan. Her fiancé. She got a letter today from some convent in Romania saying he caught brain fever. She went to go see him and nurse him back to health, I guess."

"You have GOT to be kidding me," I hissed, mostly to myself.

"No," said Lucy. "He's delusional, apparently. Talking about vampires and ghosts and werewolves."

I wanted to bang my head on the nearest hard object. Harker was harder to kill than a cockroach. First, he escapes Kat's wrath- which, in and of itself is quite a feat- survived a coma, managed to go out the window with bedsheets into the cold, hard wilderness, and he was still alive. What does it take to freaking kill him and be done with him?

Lucy finished her coffee. It should be noted that unless the drinker in question has sufficient sleep and bloodstream, coffee with make them shaky but not more alert. I drank when she was finished.

Two minutes after I arrived home, literally, there was a commotion on the other side of my fence. There was the unmistakable sound of crunching glass, people running and yelling.

"RENFIELD!"

"Oy, Renfield, stop! You, there, grab him!"

There was an oof, a noise like an elephant stomping on something, and a yelp not unlike a dog's.

Something hit the other side of my stone fence and a pair of pale hands gripped the top. Half a second later, their owner was up and over the top of the fence. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, very thin and pale, but evidently very strong as well. He had close-cut, unclean brown-gray hair and unusually huge eyes that were a disconcerting shade of silver. I knew this because he was looking up and the window I was seeing this through while trying to navigate through Carfax's jungle.

He went around the corner of the house and I came barreling down the stairs to ask him just what the hell he thought he was doing.

"Master!" he shrieked, clearly enjoying himself.

"What?" I said, all the fiery what-the-hell-do-you-think-you're-doing spirit sort of dying.

"Master! I found you, at last! I have planned this escape for many nights!"

I remembered there was an insane asylum next door. I was going to get all the crazies. "Yeah, um, that's really-"

"Show me how you Change!"

"What?" I snapped.

"You Change! I have seen you!" His moment of clarity passed and he yelled, "I am here to do your bidding, Master, I am your slave and you will reward me, for I will be faithful! I have worshipped you from long and afar off! Now that you are near, I await your commands and you will not pass me by, will you dear Master, in your distribution of good things?"

"Shhh!" I hissed. "No, I won't- um- pass you by. I'll find you later, just go!"

His pursuers came around the corner and I vanished.

Renfield, if that was his name, did not take my words to heart. He fought the men in white coats- there must have been ten of them, all healthy- off for a good twenty minutes before they wrestled him to the ground and put him in a pair of handcuffs and brought him back to his room. I checked on him; he was bound in a straightjacket and tied to the wall.

Even this did not silence him. When he saw me through the barred window, he struggled against his bonds, let out a high, lilting cry and shouted, "I shall be patient, Master! It is coming, coming, COMING!"

Ah, London.