Disclaimer: I do not own Blood Ties or any of its characters. They are Tanya Huff's creations.

Characters thoughts in italics

Thanks to my beta, Lena!

Chapter 3

Henry's chest wounds had begun to heal but the 480 year old vampire was still unresponsive.

"He's healing. That's a good sign." The Goth said trying to sound convincing but not really succeeding.

The PI gave Coreen what she hoped was a reassuring smile. They both yawned. It had been a long night. Vicki glanced at her watch. One minute until dawn.

As darkness surrendered to the first rays of sun, dawn arrived. Henry's normal gasp was barely audible as he entered vampire sleep.

Vicki rose from the bed, retrieved her jacket from the floor and slid it on.

"Where are you going?" The Goth asked.

"To get some answers."

As Vicki gingerly closed the door, she scrutinized the lock. No tampering. Henry's attacker must have a key. The locks would need changed. The PI walked down the hall and rode the elevator to the first floor. She walked to the front desk. A young man resembling Clark Kent was on duty.

The private investigator smiled. "Do you know when Greg's shift starts?"

The doorman returned her smile. "He's not due in until 4:00 p.m. Is there something I can help you with?"

She handed him her business card. "Vicki Nelson, private investigator. I was hired by Mr. Fitzroy. He believes that someone tried to break into his apartment."

"Do you want me to call the police?" The young man asked with concern.

"You don't need to call the police. I have it covered."

She glanced at his nametag. "Brian, were you on duty yesterday?"

He nodded his head. "Yeah."

"Did anyone come to see Mr. Fitzroy?"

His blue eyes searched for an answer. "So many people come through these doors. It's hard to keep track of them all. We have security cameras to take care of that."

"Would it be possible for me to view that footage?

"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to show it to you. It's company policy."

"If you remember anything about yesterday, give me a call."

"Sure."

The PI turned to leave and then swung back around. "Mr. Fitzroy's going to need a new lock. Who would I speak to about that?"

"I'll call maintenance and they'll take care of that right away."

Brian picked up the phone.

"On second thought, Brian, that's okay. I know a good locksmith. Thanks anyway."

He hung up the phone and began reading the Toronto Sun.

Vicki walked to the elevators, reached into her jacket and dialed.

"Mike. It's Vicki. I need a favor."

Staring at the yellow ceiling of his motel room, he replayed his latest job in his mind, analyzing every action for mistakes.

Walking into the condo, he pretended to be an acquaintance of Henry Fitzroy. He had worn a Toronto Maple Leaf hat and sunglasses to obscure his appearance. As soon as he boarded the elevator, he slipped on a pair of black leather gloves. When the elevator arrived on Fitzroy's floor, he slowly walked down the hallway to Fitzroy's apartment, inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. All the lights were off so he pulled a small flashlight from his jacket before closing the door. He wandered over to the sword stand, retrieved the weapon and opened the bedroom doors. The young man was sleeping. He raised the sword and imagined Fitzroy's eyes flying opening as he thrust the sword into him. He shook that thought from his mind and plunged the sword into the man's chest. He repeated the same action several times until he was sure the wounds were fatal. Double checking his work, he felt for a pulse. Nothing. Then, he left in as unobtrusive way as he came in, leaving the sword protruding from the young man's chest.

Now all I have to do is meet my client for my final payment. She paid me a million upfront. Once the other million is in my hands, it will be Hello Cayman Islands. She'll have to be dealt with. No loose ends. He checked his guns before drifting off to sleep.