I was going to save this character for later, but he was smiling so sweetly and giving me those big puppy-dog eyes....I just couldn't say no!


A crash of steel announced his arrival. A small but deafening explosion confirmed it.

He opened the door on the right side of the van--the side that hadn't scraped against the wall--and jumped out, glancing around the old warehouse. Back in the States, he would have been trapped in the van, but here they drove on the wrong side of the road. Gotta love those Brits, eh?

He licked his lips and felt his pocket again. The switchblade wasn't going anywhere, natch, but the warm steel was comforting all the same. Like glancing at a friend in the seat next to you before the roller coaster got interesting, he thought, and the thought made him smile. If he ever hit another amusement park, he'd make their roller coaster interesting, no doubt about it.

The slap of rubber-soled tennis shoes on concrete told him one of his cronies had jumped out of the van. "Recruit" or "gang member" would have been more politically correct, but he preferred "cronie." While a lifelong fan of accuracy, he had never been a fan of political correctness.

"What now, Boss?"

He licked his lips again, glancing from side to side as though he saw the whole of London and not just the dingy interior of the warehouse. "I hear some, ah, interesting people showed up today," he said, "and it wasn't us."

"What're you gonna do about it?"

A smile spread across his lips, tugging at his scars. God, he loved that feeling. "Find 'em, of course. What happens next will depend on how interesting they really are."


"This seems like a patently bad idea, Tom."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"Because...well....." Edward made a gesture that took in the cluttered backyard, the overgrown flower bed and garden, the screen door with a missing screen and, of course, the dozen or so cats prowling about. The glow of a streetlamp made his hand sparkle slightly, and he hastily pulled a glove on.

"Well, what? They're cats, for the love of God. Who's going to miss them besides a decrepit old woman who lives alone?"

Edward tried to come up with a solid answer for that one, but the itching thirst in his throat closed off his reply. His stomach cramped with hunger, and he knew Tom's plan, stupid as it was, was also his only option. "I don't want to eat cats."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No...."

"Well, then...." He gestured to the yard, a gesture that said "What are you waiting for?"

Edward hesitated. He'd eaten deer, of course, and his share of semi-endangered species (spotted owls were delicious, no matter what the Environmental Protection Agency might say). He'd even stooped so low as to eat a cow when the family had relocated to a North Dakota farming community. Maybe that was why eating cats seemed so wrong, he reasoned. It was like a gourmet connesuir forced to eat McDonald's.

But if McDonald's was the only option.....

He took a breath, wondering why even as he did. Dead people usually didn't breathe; vampires were more the rule than the exception for that. Regardless, he let the breath out in a sigh. "Fine."

"You'll do it?"

"I don't have any more options, do I?"

Tom shrugged. "Since you've completely ruled out humans, squirrels and and fish--which we both agreed would have been sensible choices--then yes, you are out of options."

"Fish blood isn't the same," Edward whined.

"Of course it isn't," Tom said, dripping sarcasm.

"Have you ever eaten fish blood?"

"Considering I don't eat blood, no, I have not. And if we don't move before dawn, you will go hungry for another night," Tom added before Edward could further pursue a discussion of squirrel blood vs. fish blood. "Now stand still so I can place a Disillusionment Charm on you."

Edward sucked in another breath--why do I keep doing that? he wondered--and drew himself up straighter. Tom stepped forward, wand out, when Edward saw something coming through the fog. "What's that behind you?"

"Oh, don't try that with me."

"No, really. There's someone coming...." He squinted and frowned. "Is that really....?"

Tom turned halfway so he could see the truth for himself and ward off any attack Edward might try. He was a vampire, after all. Every dimwit knew vampires couldn't be trusted. He was half-surprised to see a figure striding toward them. A garish purple coat came into view, followed by a white face framed by stringy green curls. He frowned, not taking his eyes off the figure.

"Is that....is that a clown?"

A cold shiver raced down his spine as an even colder laugh split the night. Now Tom could see a bright red smile painted over grotesque scars. Dark circles around the figure's eye sockets gave the illusion of him having no eyes at all, merely holes peering into deeper blackness. Tom shifted his weight, training his wand on the clown.

"Gentlemen," the clown said. "So glad I found you. London is a hard city to navigate, I'll tell you that."

"Who are you?" Edward asked.

"What do you want?"

Another laugh. Tom felt his skin prickle. "Want? Well, up 'till now all I wanted was to find you! And now that I have, I guess this is where the party starts!"

"You still haven't told us who you are," Tom said. The clown broke into a wide grin.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I've been rude." He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a glossy playing card. "Here's my card."

Edward took it, studied it and frowned. He handed it to Tom, who also frowned. "It's a joker."

"The Joker," the clown corrected. "Now. Who's ready to hit London?"


Yes, I'm using the TDK version of the Joker. He just seemed to fit better.