All right, this chapter's a little long, but it's got some important stuff in it. So, bear with me, if you could.

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The rest of the day was uneventful—no new cases, so I left early in order to get back to the vampire as quickly as possible. I felt better if I could keep an eye on her, and besides, my curiosity about her had been intensifying with every hour that had passed that day. I had the opportunity to find out more about a creature that I spent my life dealing with, and I was going to use it.

I entered my apartment cautiously, and heard, "So, you're back?"

It was coming from the living room, and I found the vampire where I had left her, immobilized. "Thank God," she said. "It's been so tedious here, and I'm getting really sore."

I gestured to the TV, which was off. "Did you watch anything?"

"Some," she responded. "But I got bored. Besides, too much can hurt your eyes."

"Keeping your hypnotic powers sharp?"

She changed the subject. "You know, I'm sore from sitting here for eighteen hours or however long it's been. Can I get up?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Get up? You think I'd fall for that?"

"No, seriously." She turned to me, looking annoyed. "You haven't fed me anything, and I've still got this damn necklace on. I'm too weak to be able to do anything."

She had a point. But how did I know she wasn't lying?

"And I haven't showered," she added.

"You shower?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What, you think I bathe in blood before I drink it?"

"Well, you weren't living in an actual house with bathing facilities."

She shrugged. "I break into other houses. A lot of people who go out don't have much in terms of security."

She broke into houses? I wondered if she had done anything else besides just shower… Had she stolen things? Stolen people? I shuddered at the thought. "You did this daily?"

"Almost. Wasn't always easy to find a good place."

I considered for a moment. Should I let her shower? On the one hand, it would be risky to free her, even if she was weakened. She could still try something. What if she took off the necklace, or worse, did something to it? On the other hand, it did seem rather unfair to keep her like this without ever allowing her to get up once in a while. "Fine," I said after a couple more moments of pondering. "But with some conditions."

"What are they?"

"First, I keep this on hand," I said, holding up my gun. "So you won't try anything."

"Perish the thought," she said dryly.

"Second," I went on, "don't do anything to that necklace."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Third, you get five minutes."

That elicited an animated response. "Five minutes?" she said. "Do you know how long it takes me to get myself all clean?"

"No," I said, "and it doesn't matter. You don't need to get 'all clean,' you just need to keep a basic level of hygiene and get up for a bit. And I don't want to let you out of my sight for long."

She scowled. "Fine."

"And lastly, I'll be checking in every so often."

She looked alarmed, and drew back. "Checking in? What am I, eye candy for you? That one of the reasons why you agreed to let me shower?"

"I didn't mean come in! I meant call in. I will call in every few seconds to make sure you're still there and not up to something."

She looked a little more relaxed, but kept her frown. "Good to see you trust me so much."

"What reason have you given me to trust you?"

She didn't have an answer for that. "So, you gonna let me up or what?"

I frowned and drew closer to her chair. Dropping to one knee, I began to untie her legs. My wounded arm made it difficult, but not impossible. When I had finished, I worried that she might kick me suddenly, but her legs remained still, and she allowed me to free her hands, as well. Once she was completely untied, she rose and stretched. "Ah, that's better," she said.

"Good to hear it," I said. "Now, time to shower."

"Hold on a minute," she said, looking around. "I kinda want to get a look around the place."

I frowned. "That wasn't part of our agreement."

"You never said I couldn't. Besides, the five minutes only applied to showering, right? So, why not use this opportunity to know where it is I'm staying?"

She gave me an almost pleading look, and I scowled. "Fine, you can have a quick glance around."

She smiled, and walked out of the living room. "I've seen enough of that place," she said. "Ooh, here's the kitchen." She opened the fridge. "Got any blood? I'm starving."

"I'll pick up some rats for you from an alleyway," I said.

She looked at me, her face scrunched up. "Rats? You're not serious, are you?"

I grinned. "Well, blood is blood, right?"

"But rats are disgusting. They've got all sorts of disease and filth and…ugh." She grimaced.

"Disease? What are you talking about? You can't get sick."

"They're still gross."

Leaving the kitchen, she continued her tour, as I thought about what she had said. Sooner or later, I would have to feed her. But how? I wasn't going to kill anyone for her, and blood wasn't an easy thing to come by. Maybe I could get some sort of other animal blood somehow?

"Nice dining room," she commented, jerking me out of my thoughts. "I see the bathroom down there." She indicated the open door at the end of the hall. "Which means…" She turned to the last door, which was closed. "That's your bedroom."

"What of it?"

She turned to me, grinning. "Well, now I know where you sleep."

…That bitch. She was deliberately trying to rattle me. Even though she hadn't tried anything so far, this bit of knowledge, she knew, would unsettle me. Well, maybe two could play at that game. I raised my gun at her. "Well, then, maybe I shouldn't let you live."

She looked dully into the barrel. "Yeah. 'Cause I'm just a murderous vampire, right?"

Again, I was reminded of the pain in her eyes that morning, pain that had seemed genuine, when I had called her that. Feeling guilty (and being angry that I felt guilty), I lowered my gun. "Just get in the shower."

I gave her a towel and saw her into the bathroom. Soon, I heard the water running, and, for the next five minutes, checked in with her—that is, called in to her—at regular intervals. Each time, she called back, and I felt slightly better. When five minutes were up, I called, "Time's up!"

The water ran for a few more seconds, then turned off. I heard her get out of the shower and dry off, and tried desperately not to match an image to the sound; the last thing I needed was to start having fantasies about my vampire captive. "I need new clothes," she called.

"Wear the same ones."

"What, underwear, too? Gross."

I shrugged, although she couldn't see me. "It's either that or nothing."

She sighed heavily, but I heard her putting her clothes back on, and resolved to get her a couple more things. "Coming out now," she called, and the door opened. I stepped back, putting distance between the two of us. She did look cleaner, though maybe that was just because of the wet hair. "There you go," she said. "I didn't try anything. And your damn necklace is right where I left it."

"Watch what you say about that necklace," I warned.

She raised an eyebrow. "Special to you, is it?"

"More than you can imagine. And don't get any ideas."

"Your mom would get mad if something happened to it?"

"My mom's dead."

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "Oh…"

I nodded back at the living room. "Time to go back." I led her back to her chair and redid her bounds. "So," I said, sitting down, "you've learned some things about me. Now it's my turn to learn about you."

She reverted to her attitude-filled self. "Not likely."

"We'll see. First, what's your name?" When she didn't respond, I said, "Come on, there can't be any harm in telling me that."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"You already know my name."

"No, I know your first name. I don't know your last."

My eyes narrowed. Truth be told, I wasn't entirely comfortable with giving her my last name; I still hadn't entirely stopped considering her an enemy, and information about me was best kept to a minimum. "Then let's get on even footing," I said. "Just tell me your first name."

"Okay. It's Violet."

I frowned. "That was too quick. And that's another flower name. What's your real name?"

"Daisy."

"That's just a different flower."

"April."

"Still flower-themed."

"Chris."

I raised an eyebrow. "Chris?"

"Short for Chrysanthemum."

"Is it really that hard to tell me your name?"

"I told you, once you tell me yours. We're going all or nothing here, Sora. You tell me your full name, and I'll tell you mine."

"You're not calling the shots here."

"Apparently, I am." She grinned smugly. "You can't make me tell you anything."

"I could withhold food from you until you tell me."

She cocked her head. "I don't think you would, though. You don't seem the type to let someone starve."

Damn, she was right. Perceptive of her. "You're right, I'm not," I said. "So, in return, why don't you tell me what your name is?"

"Why? I wouldn't get anything from it."

"You forget that I do have the power to treat you as I please. While I wouldn't starve you, I could make things very uncomfortable. Or, I could make them less uncomfortable, if you do what I ask."

She looked mildly interested. "Less uncomfortable, you say? How?"

"Well, I could take that necklace off every once in a while," I offered. "And let you get up a little more often." I shrugged. "All sorts of ways."

She thought for a moment, then said, "You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine."

I scowled. "Maybe I'll just waterboard you instead."

"I think that would qualify as cruel and unusual."

"No one would know."

"Your conscience would."

"So, what, you're playing on my conscience now? Trying to manipulate me?"

Well, of course she was trying to manipulate me. That's what she did.

"No," she responded.

"I don't believe you."

"Well, if you don't trust me, why should I trust you?"

"I've kept you alive so far, haven't I? I could have just killed you at any time, and no one would have known."

"How do I know you don't have something bigger planned for me? Maybe you're using me as a pawn in some grand scheme."

I frowned. "That's rather far-fetched. Besides, you think that just your name would be some big piece of information that would let me get away with whatever I wanted?"

"You tell me your name, I'll tell you mine," she repeated.

I threw my hands up and walked out of the room. Who would have thought that, when I captured a vampire, she would be so exasperating?

I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

The rest of the night passed similarly. I made dinner for myself (and tried to tempt the vampire with it, but it didn't have the desired effect), then went back to interrogating her. Yet she remained stubborn, and would not tell me a thing. Even when I tried switching subjects—for instance, I asked her where she was from, or what movies or books she liked, or even what her favorite color was—she remained silent. Finally, I gave up and spent the rest of the evening listening to relaxing music on my computer. It settled me down, but I felt frustration flare up in me again after I went to check on her before going to bed. Taking some deep breaths, I returned to my room, set up my precautions from the previous night, and went to bed.

Sleep provided a much-appreciated respite from the vampire, but it seemed all too short, as I woke up with the reality of having to face her again—a potentially dangerous vampire who, even when she wasn't a threat, drove me crazy. "You know, I'm going to need to go to sleep one of these nights," she said when I went to check on her.

It was true—while vampires did not require as much sleep as humans, they did need some every few days or so. "You can sleep in the chair," I said.

"It's uncomfortable."

"Then tell me what your name is, and I'll set you up with something better."

She fell silent, and I left to perform my usual morning routine, the wound on my arm reminding me what she was capable of. This might be a way to get her to talk, I thought hopefully. But then, She's already turned down a similar offer. Why should this one be any different?

She hadn't changed her mind by the time I returned and had breakfast. "Don't forget to get food for me," she called.

"It's not very high on my list, given your level of cooperation," I called back.

"But you can't let me starve."

"I can leave you hungry for a little while."

"Not for much longer. I need blood soon."

Unfortunately, she had a point, so I would most likely have to find a way to sustain her within the next day or two. "I'll give it some thought."

"What's 'some thought?'"

"I'll get you something eventually."

"When's eventually?"

I ignored her and finished my breakfast. "See you later," I said, getting my coat and briefcase.

"No TV for me today?"

"Well, you didn't seem to like it too much yesterday."

"But it's too boring otherwise."

"I'm sure you'll get along."

She scowled at me, but I ignored her again and left, hoping that she wouldn't get into too much trouble when I was gone.

We had arranged that day to visit Hayner in the hospital; he had expressed a desire to see us himself, and I was curious as to what he remembered from his experience. When we arrived, we asked to see him, and were shown to his room. He was alone, sitting up in his bed, clad in a traditional hospital gown. "Hey," he said when we came in. "You Sora Parker?"

"I am."

He grinned broadly. "Great to meet you; I'd get up if I could."

"No worries," I said, walking over to him and taking his outstretched hand.

"I've heard what happened, what you did," he said. "I can't thank you enough, man. You literally saved my life."

I told him what I had said to Pence. "I'm just glad I got there when I did."

"You and me both." He nodded at my bandaged arm. "Battle scar?"

"Of sorts." I introduced him to Donald and Goofy, and he offered them his thanks, as well. "So, how are you feeling?" I asked, sitting down.

"Hell of a lot better than before," he said.

I leaned forward. "Do you remember anything? About the person who kidnapped you?"

He shook his head. "Not much. I remember meeting her, vaguely…but the rest is a blur. Next thing I remember is waking up here."

I nodded. Good, he hadn't noticed anything suspicious. "She must have used a pretty powerful knockout drug."

"I guess so." He shifted slightly. "What do you think are the chances of catching her?"

"Uh, I really couldn't say. She's clever, but we've got a lot of talented people out there on the watch." Of course, none of them would ever think to look in the apartment of the investigator who had reported her.

He frowned. "I hope they do. I don't want her out there again."

"Neither do I." That wasn't entirely a lie; I certainly didn't want the vampire out attacking people again.

That brought a new thought to mind. What was my end goal in all of this? Find out more about the vampire…and then what? Convert her? Make her unwilling to take another life, and let her go? Would I keep her indeterminately? Would she turn out to be too dangerous to be left alive? Would I end up becoming friends with her, and trusting her?

I snorted. That wasn't very likely. And yet…it seemed to be the preferable option. Thinking about the other possible results brought all sorts of possible negative consequences to mind. But if we became friends, if we managed, through some miracle, to earn each other's trust, then I could let her go without worrying about her too much.

"Mr. Parker?"

"Huh?" I snapped back to reality. "Oh, sorry. My mind went off on a tangent there."

He grinned. "No worries. That happens to me a lot. Especially during class."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I remember when I had trouble keeping up in school."

We got into a conversation, and as we talked, I saw Hayner relax, and become more of the confident, loud person that Pence and his fencing friends had described. It made me feel very happy that Hayner was recovering from the ordeal he had faced.

Yet again, my thoughts strayed back to the vampire. How could she do this to someone like Hayner? Was she even worth sparing, or had I let my emotions get the better of me?

Hayner noticed that my face looked troubled. "Is something the matter?"

I sighed. "Just wondering what kind of person could do this." I glanced at Donald and Goofy.

Hayner's face contorted into a scowl. "Yeah. I really hope they catch that bitch—oh, sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You have every right to be angry." And, so did I.

We visited for another several minutes, then took our leave to let the hospital staff do their thing. Fortunately, Hayner was due for release the next day. We wished him the best, and left.

After getting back to the office and seeing that no one else had come, Goofy turned to me. "I saw your reaction back there, Sora."

"Reaction?"

"You were wondering what kind of person could do that to Hayner."

I frowned. "Yes. Yes, I was."

"I'm with you on this, Sora," said Donald. "I think she's a murderous scumbag, and you shouldn't waste your time with her. Just turn her over to the police."

"Hold on, now," said Goofy. "We're still not sure what her thoughts are, why she did what she did, or if she regrets it. I think you should try to find out more."

"That's easier said than done," I said. "She's a real pain. She's incredibly stubborn, and very unwilling to tell me anything. Not to mention needy. Which reminds me, I need to find some way of feeding her."

"Feeding her?" Donald looked disgusted. "You don't mean…"

"Unfortunately, yes," I said. "I don't want to give her actual food, because then her digestive system might work on it, and she would be left with waste, which she can only get rid of if I'm there." I made a face. "I don't want to deal with a mess if she needs to go when I'm not available."

"Blood's the only option, then?" said Goofy.

"Yeah. It doesn't have to be human blood, though, and I'm gonna go with that; there's no easy way to get human blood that I can think of."

"What about a blood bank?" asked Donald.

"I don't think you can just take blood out," I said. "You have to have a reason, like needing it for a transfusion. And I don't think having a vampire cooped up in your apartment is a valid reason."

"So, animal blood?" said Goofy. "Well…I don't like to suggest it, but if you have to…"

"What?"

"Could you just, like, capture some squirrels or something and use them?"

I thought. "Possibly. Though I don't think trapping is allowed in the parks."

"You might be able to do it subtly."

I sighed. "Well, that's as good an option as any." I opened my computer. "Let's see what the Internet has to say about simple animal traps."

We spent the rest of the day going out into the woods, setting up basic snares, and catching animals. I was actually surprised with our success; we managed to get two squirrels. But, then again, there were a lot of them in the area.

Then came the unpleasant part. "I'm not cutting their throats open," I said. "I'm put off enough by the sight of dead squirrels. Besides, my left arm's wounded."

"Don't look at me," said Donald. "This is your problem, not mine."

"You seemed okay with helping me catch them."

"That was different. That wasn't gross and disgusting and something I really don't want to do."

I sighed. "Goofy?"

"Gosh, Sora…I mean, I didn't even want to suggest it in the first place…"

I heaved a large sigh. "Fine. I'll do it, but you both are helping me."

Donald raised an eyebrow. "Helping how?"

We strung up the squirrels on a tree branch (a good distance away from anyone who might see us), upside down. Then, I got out a knife and gloves (we had stopped at Goofy's place on the way to the woods), and Goofy brought a small bowl. "You ready for this?" I asked him.

He grimaced, but said, "Well, we've got to do it, haven't we?"

"Unfortunately." Gritting my teeth, I gently raised my left hand and grabbed the head of one of the squirrels, held it steady, and quickly slashed its throat. Blood flowed from the wound, down into the bucket Goofy held.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," said Donald, taking a step back.

"Hey, if chicken farmers can do it, so can we," I said.

When the first squirrel was drained, we moved on to the second, and did the same. When we had finished, we had a small but fair amount of blood—not pleasant to look at, hold, or smell, but we had it. "Donald, cut the squirrels down," I said.

"Why me?"

"Because you didn't help with the collection itself. Besides, you don't even need to touch them."

He grumbled, but did it, the squirrel corpses landing with a thump on the ground. "Let's hope no one sees them and starts wondering," said Goofy.

"Doubt it," I replied. "This place is pretty out of the way. Anyways, let's not stay here for any longer than we need to."

No one argued against that.

I returned later that afternoon to my apartment, the squirrel blood, slightly chilled, in a plastic water bottle. "I'm back," I called.

"Great," came the sarcastic response from the living room.

I walked in. "Here's your blood," I said, holding up the bottle.

She eyed it. "Not a whole lot, is it?"

"It's what I could get. Don't complain."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm curious as to what kind of blood it is. Some tastes better than others."

"Well, you'll have to find out, won't you?"

I set the bottle down and undid the ties on her hands. As she stretched them out, I handed her the bottle. She opened it, sniffed it, and recoiled slightly. "The hell is this?"

"Blood."

"What kind?"

"Drink it and find out."

She made a face, but drank. I grimaced and looked away. "Ech," she said. "What is this, squirrel blood?"

I nodded. "Precisely."

"That's the best you could get?"

I turned back to her. "Hey, it took some effort to do. We had to set up the traps—"

"We?"

I paused. "The people I work with."

"The one whose house I went to?"

"Maybe."

She peered at me. "See? If you're not willing to tell me anything, the feeling is mutual."

"That's because I'm concerned for the safety of my friends." I gave her a hard look. "You don't have any friends."

"How do you know?"

"Do you?"

"Maybe."

I glowered at her. "Just finish your blood."

"But it's gross."

"It's what you've got. Take it or leave it."

She returned my scathing look, but finished off the bottle. "Barely wet my throat with that," she said.

"Deal with it." I wasn't in the mood to be sympathetic.

She frowned. "What's your problem?"

"Well, I just spent a couple of hours catching squirrels, then draining the blood from their dead bodies. It can put a damper on things. Oh, and guess who I saw today?"

"Who?" she asked, looking and sounding uninterested.

"His name's Hayner, though you might know him as your most recent victim." I leaned in to her. "He's a nineteen-year-old college student. Got a fencing scholarship. He's got a lot of friends, and he's a very lively and likeable person. He's got a kind family, who loves him a good deal." My look became burning, and I felt my anger growing. "But you didn't care about any of that, did you? No, to you, he was just some gullible young man in a bar, soon to be a source of your sustenance. Tell me, how many other people have you done that to? Hypnotized and made your victims without even thinking about them and their loved ones? How many hearts have you broken by killing someone they cared about? Or have you just lost count, not even caring?"

It was unkind, but I meant every word. Did she have any idea what she had been doing by killing people? Did she give any thought to the consequences for others?

She stared back at me, a mixture of indignation and shock on her face. "I'm a predator," she finally said. "And predators hunt their prey. It's the natural order of things."

I shook my head. "You never had to kill anyone. Just hypnotize them, drink a bit of blood, and let them go. But you decided to keep them as your own personal blood banks." I peered at her. "Why? What demented thoughts go on in that little head of yours?"

"You want to know?" She said it shakily, though whether it was from anger, sadness, or a combination of the two, I couldn't tell. "I'll tell you what's going through my head right now. I'm fantasizing about sinking my teeth into your neck, and draining all your blood in one gulp, shutting up you and your self-righteous tirades forever. I'm imagining hanging your dead body from the window of your apartment, so that everyone can see it, including your stupid friends. Just add it to the list, hm? And at least you'll be able to join your mother."

I snapped. Before I could think, I was in motion, swinging my fist as hard as I could at her face. As she didn't have anywhere to dodge, it made contact, striking her cheekbone with a great impact and sending her to the floor, along with her chair. "Don't you ever antagonize my friends or even mention my mother ever again!" I yelled. "You dare to dishonor them by speaking about them? I don't even know why you're here. I should have killed you when I had the chance. You're not worth knowing about, and you're beyond redemption."

"So go ahead!" she yelled back at me. "Better late than never, right?"

She turned to me…and I could see tears in her eyes. Was she crying? Did I make her cry? Suddenly, I felt guilty. Not looking at her, I propped her chair back up and tied her hands again. "Not gonna do it?" she asked, and this time I could hear how upset she was.

I needed to get out. Grabbing my coat, I strode towards the door and left.

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Hm...what did you think? Was either of them out of line, and deserved what they got? And what do you think will happen next? Let me know!