A/N: NYAAAA. Hi. I'm back from vacation with a new chapter. Back to the hunter and failpire now. And a nice little cameo from a green-eyed punk.

ALSO: today is Doma's birthday! Give her presents and candy! D8 DO EEET. [/shot]

[/so hyper] Okay, ignore me, we have a chapter to read.

Don't forget to review!

GOLDFISH AND OATIES BELONG TO WHOEVER MAKES EM.

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He had a clear shot. But he had the misfortune of forgetting that Finas was a bit more observant than most.

A tight frown formed from behind his mask as the bulky man managed to pull the dark skinned one out of the way of danger. He had good reflexes. He fired again, this time aiming for the bearded fellow, but he was too late. At that point they were already bats and very small targets. The bullet whizzed in the air harmlessly into the air as the two leather rats with wings flew away to safety- leaving behind the third, rather betrayed looking vampire.

This was unusual for Abner because vampires rarely left behind one of their own. They tended to stick together like some sort of undead family. This was touching to a certain extent- but they were still dead, and they still routinely killed innocent people every day. Or god forbid, turned them.

They were a problem that had to be dealt with.

But first…

The one that was left behind.

He continued to advance on the pale young man, already raising his shotgun up to eyelevel. This one wasn't moving. He was crumbled against the ground looking absolutely awful.

That… and familiar.

He lowered the gun, now only a few feet away from the vampire and looked over his appearance. Yes, those strange new age clothes that seemed better fit for a teenage hipster, those glasses, that tuft of neatly cared for hair… This man, he had met before.

He tried to kill him before.

He was Adelaide's fledging.

He was in the same car as a back-alley doctor who healedmonsters and a black market delivery boy.

He was Adelaide's fledging.

He lowered the gun, drawing out a confused 'Dook?' from his loyal pet. It hissed warningly at Conrad, but eased down as Abner reached around and stroke his little head for a moment. Kneeling down, he kept his eyes locked on Conrad's face, faintly seeing a bit of his own reflection in his glasses. He saw the blurs of blues and grinned slightly from behind the mask and wondered if Conrad would recognize him.

After all- he never really had a much of a chance of introducing himself. Honestly, the boy was lucky that he escaped with his life.

Conrad Achenleck was left to stare after the vampires, contemplating his predicament, recognizing that mask anywhere. He scrambled back, his black hooded coat hitting the wall. Wonderful. Left to be killed by the obsessive man who had been part of the reason he'd almost died several seconds before (if that made any sense). Staring up at those terrifying goggles approaching him, almost glowing, no, they were glowing.

He was going to die, wasn't he?

The artist squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately not to shake. Well, this might be less painful than what Casimiro might have had in store for him, or heaven forbid, what Hanna might have caused. (Wait, was he even criticizing Hanna now, the minutes before his death?)

Hearing a small "dook" from the ferret made Conrad aware that he was still alive (or at least, his version of alive), as did the small hiss that quieted down. Peeking one eye open frantically, Conrad was surprised and frightened to find almost nothing but blue in his vision (those damn goggles). Giving a small gasp (despite not needing to breathe), Conrad pushed even farther into the wall vainly. "Nuh, God, no-"

Shifting the gun in his arm, the hunter raised the barrel and thrust it into Conrad's face. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're Mr. Achenleck aren't you?" His voice was even, though the mask that protected him from the nastiness that these creatures of the night tended to carry with them made it muffled slightly. Not enough for him to not make any sense luckily enough.

The barrel of the gun was thrust in his face, terrifying the vampire further, barely hearing the question and, when it finally registered, hardly capable of responding (why the hell would he say yes anyway?).

"…You seem to have been abandoned by your own kind. That's rather unfortunate. I'll be frank though. You're likely to die tonight, as dead as someone like you can possibly get."

As the man continued to speak, Conrad forced himself to listen, almost instantly regretting it. Like he didn't know he'd just been abandoned! He really didn't need to hear it again, and it was both rude to repeat and painful to hear. Like he didn't know, odds were he was going to die. Some gutsy part of the vampire wanted to snort at that, he wasn't a complete idiot.

He paused.

Obviously, what the hunter was about to suggest wouldn't be too much of a threat to his own well being. It was clear, so clear that Conrad couldn't pose any sort of threat to him even if he tried.

But this…

This feeling of dread…

The hunter (what was his name anyway?) paused, and Conrad waited for the trigger to be pulled, for that familiar darkness to come over him (would a vampire death be the same as a human death?)

He waited.

And waited.

The shot he had expected was replaced with words, words he had never expected but never believed he could find so much comfort in.

"…But I propose a deal of sorts."

Conrad let out his breath, not realizing he had been holding it since the masked man had paused. Out of nowhere, he felt a choked laugh slip past his half-clogged throat. "A-A deal?" In the words of a poet, such sweeter words a man never did hear. Or something like that.

The laughter died quickly, however, as he recalled whose company he was in, and he realized he still had to give the man an answer.

When the vampire laughed, Abner thought for sure he was laughing at his offer. Which was expected, most vampires were proud fools that would rather die than to make a deal with a lowly human. But he was prepared to take a more aggressive approach, prepared to force the vampire into doing what he wants. This vampire was the best lead since… ever for finding the infamous Adelaide. He could imprison him, torture him…

"Y-Yes! Fuck yes!" Conrad grinned almost gratefully, his snaggletooth exposed momentarily (a tick board popped to mind, shoved away quickly by the problem at hand). He could live.

He had to slow down, he didn't know for a fact what this deal was. Then again, did it really matter? Anything to keep him alive another night was enough for the man to grasp at.

…

What?

The expression from behind the mask was positively priceless. Alright, not only did the vampire agree on taking the deal, he seemed damned eager to take it. No, no surely this was just… sarcasm. No vampire would be so…

"I'll do anything!" he breathed at the man. "Whatever you want!" Just please let me live. Please.

…awful.

He stilled for a moment. He at least maybe anticipated some sort of hesitance, so… this was interesting. He was interesting. "Alright Mr. Achenleck," he said with a slight pause. If the hostage is willing, then shouldn't the lack of resistance be rewarded with a lack of violence?

As the hunter stilled, Conrad panicked for a moment; had he done something wrong? Had he just signed his own death sentence somehow? Oh, what had he done now?

But he spoke, and Conrad felt his body relax where it was on the wall (oh ew). Did this mean he wasn't going to be harmed? He paused, cocking his head slightly as he listened.

"I'll explain it as simply as I can. For the past few years, I've been hunting down your sire. I know you are her fledging, and I know that you're her childe." He knew this because word spreads quickly in the underworld. And many, many seemed to have a difficult time understanding why she sired some tawny artist that never did anything all to worthy of her attention. Abner was convinced that there had to of been some kind of… accident. Because on top of this clearly weak and unmannered less-than-vampire, there were gaping bite marks, unhealed still, and an obvious lack of training.

Most Sires tend to take in their Childe, to train them to mold them into worthy successors.

Conrad was yet to even be touched still.

He nodded to that, a small frown succumbing him as he was reminded of how thatcame about. He hadn't been aware how long Adelaide had been a threat to society; his relationship with her hardly expanded farther than her hijacking his room, stealing his clothes, and draining him dry, the bitch.

"It's unheard of, for a Sire to ignore his or her fledging. Adelaide will eventually make contact with you once she comes to terms with your… existence. The nature of this contact will come in the form of her ether training you, or to eliminate you from her bloodline." He wasn't trying to strike fear into the vampire- he was simply stating facts. But if he did frighten him that was a good thing. He'd want to trust Abner to protect him which in turn would allow him to get closer to him, which would heighten his chances of getting to kill Adelaide.

Though he fully intended to dispose of Mr. Achenleck once his usefulness was no more.

Conrad visibly flinched at this; she'd already seen him, hadn't she? The hunter might be right about her trying to remove him; after all, she had been trying to kill him, not create him! How long would it be fore that happened? She already knew where he lived (oh, irony)!

"It really boils down to when she makes contact. When she does, I kill her and my business is done with you. Of course…" Ugh, no, no, this was the worse part. Necessary. NOT the first time. But it never got any easier.

Conrad had been nodding weakly at the hunter's words, but that pause caught him off guard. Why did he pause, whydid he pause? That could not mean anything-"…I'll have to stake out at your place Mr. Achenleck"-good.

Stakeouts- the hunter hated them but he knew when one was necessary. But god, god how did this vampire live? Never mind the vampires bit- others in general lived so comfortably today in utter filth!

He wanted to add more, but opted to wait for a reaction from the vampire instead. After all, would he be so eager then to make the deal?

Well, shit. Of all the bad news this man could give him, why that? Why ask that, of all things? And Conrad couldn't say no, he didn't want to be shot! The artist squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard into the empty pit of his stomach that still hurt. Suddenly this wasn't such a good idea.

Well, it was a bit late for that, now, wasn't it? He'd already given his consent, he couldn't back out now, could he? He was stuck in his apartment with him and- shit. Veser. Veser was still at the apartment. Veser was still at the apartment.

He nodded furiously, clearly uncomfortable with the situation but he'd have to make do. "A-Alright. You can stay there, I suppose. But-" how was he supposed to explain to him that there was a fucking kid back at his apartment who'd lost his best friend and was a pain in the ass with nowhere to go? "I- There's this kid at my apartment. He- He's been needing a place. I-" he swallowed again, dryly. "I need to make a phone call. Just-" At that very moment, the iPhone in his pocket rang the familiar Kooks song, his favorite. Mr. Maker. It was kind of ironic how poorly it fit into his own situation.

The vampire was frozen for a moment, then scrambled for the phone nervously, giving a sigh of relief at the home number (oh thank god, it wasn't his mum, he was afraid it was his mum). He wasn't sure why Veser was calling him, and odds are it wouldn't be a good reason, but it didn't really matter right now. What mattered was that he needed to get Veser out of the apartment as soon as possible, and his timing had been impeccable.

Conrad stumbled with the phone for a bit, trying to get the keys to move with his cold fingers. He ground his teeth furiously, finally warming his palms with friction and moving the answer key with relief. "Veser?" He tried to keep his tone at its usual pitch, rubbing his throat lightly. "I-Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, Conrad? Quick question." Conrad narrowed his eyes. "What did you do?" There it was, that tone that was normal and angry. It came so naturally when it was Veser. Veser or Hanna. They were just so irritating, he couldn't help himself.

"Wha- Nothing! Fuck, why is that the first thing you think?" Conrad rolled his eyes, quickly shooting a glance up at the hunter that stood above. He pulled away quickly to mutter his apologies but this was the kid before pulling it back to his ear and catching something along the lines of "-'sides, I cleaned up the water last time." He gave a groan. "What, then?" The artist's voice was slightly strained, tense. Of course Veser would never notice.

"Where are the goldfish?"

…Seriously?

Seriously?

"What? Wh- You- Is that it? You had to call me?" Conrad would have been infuriated had it not been so perfect that he called him now, of all times. Thank god. "Look, whatever. Veser, you need to get out of the apartment. I have some important people coming, and I'd really rather not have to deal with them and you. Is that clear?"

"What? But, dude, you can't just kick me out! I ne-"

"Quit your whining and go to Ples's place or something. God knows you like it more there anyways."

"…Good point."

"Yeah, so just take your things and leave, I'm begging you."

"But- The goldfish-"

"Upper left side of the pantry behind the Oaties box, take them with you if you want!" Conrad blew on his finger and hung up quickly, casting frightened looks up at his captor (how long was too long on the phone? Was he going to die now? Did he even have a chance?).

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but he's leaving, and the place'll be empty soon, I'm sorry." He swallowed madly, gripping the phone to his chest like a life source. If any creature ever terrified him, it was this man in front of him. Nothing else had ever seemed so nerve-wracking and sickening to the gut. Did he ever have a choice in his fate at this point?

Well, he was doing this, wasn't he? It was keeping him alive a little longer.

One could only hope.