Moonlight: The Next Chapter

by North021884

Once upon a time, Moonlight was a much-loved, but short-lived TV show. This full-length novel picks up where the series left off & expands the story to include both OCs & new characters - & as always, the romance between a vampire & a human is at the core of the story. P.S. Would LOVE to read comments/reviews to improve the story. PSS. I don't own Moonlight

3. The Devil's In The Details

Josef is worried that our secret is in danger of being exposed. His paranoia has hit an all-time high. I've tried to convince him that everything has been taken care of at the Monaghan house, that our secret is safe, but...

I get Josef's concerns. He has seen a lot over the past 400 years.

After his 15 minutes of fame as a pirate, he witnessed and survived the slaughter of thousands of vampires in Spain. Memories like that don't just disappear over the years – and they leave a mark. Me, I'm only 85, a mere baby. I haven't lived through anything like that. And, I have something he doesn't - I have Beth. I trust her with my life. It's a good thing she works for ADA Talbot - although, there's something about him I just don't trust.

Wow, now who's paranoid?

Speaking of Beth, she called my cell while I was meeting with Josef – and the news wasn't good. Not good at all.

Just as he seemed to have calmed down a little, I had to tell Josef that the Cleaners have overlooked something.

Josef's paranoia is peaking again. "Go do your job, Mick"

Chapter 3

The Devil's In The Details

INTRO: "The Mission" by 30 Seconds to Mars

Mick St. John floored the accelerator of his Mercedes convertible, desperately trying to take advantage of the small gap in the midday Los Angeles traffic. As his car hydroplaned slightly, he cursed the unusual storm that had dumped torrents of rain on the road off and on all day. Easing up on the gas slightly, he shot through the narrow opening, drawing irate shouts from his fellow drivers, and a cacophony of horns. Mick winced at the close call – his car didn't have the recuperative powers accorded vampires.

His mind raced as he tried to process what Beth had said in their too–brief conversation. She had sounded panicked on the phone – and panic was definitely NOT her style!

Beth said The Cleaner had missed something. I've never known her to miss ANYTHING. I hope Beth's mistaken.

His eyesight suddenly blurred. Pushing up his sunglasses, he rubbed tiredly at his eyes; the lack of freezer time was starting to catch up with him. He shook his head to clear it, frustrated with his apparent weakness. This was no time to be acting like the 'delicate flower' Beth had once teasingly called him.

Adjusting his sunglasses and stomping on the accelerator again, Mick went roaring down the highway toward the Monaghan house – and Beth.

At that moment, Beth Turner was pacing up and down in front of her car, oblivious to the fine mist still falling from the pale gray sky. The bad feeling she'd been harboring all morning now had a focus. How could these mysterious 'Cleaners' have missed something out in plain sight like this?! She remembered that Mick had once said that 'The Cleaner is very good at what she does.'

Beth shook her head, fuming. Maybe it's just me, but this certainly doesn't look like a job done by someone who was 'very good at what she does'!"

Her phone rang, interrupting her train of thought. She had to smile to herself as the display popped up her favorite picture of Mick. Relieved, she hit the icon to connect the call. "Mick! How close are you?!"

"Nice to hear your voice too, Beth!" His tone was sarcastic – Beth had a tendency to plunge right into a conversation, completely skipping over any pleasantries. "I've parked on a back street a couple of blocks away – just in case."

"Just in case of what?"

"The way this day has gone so far, 'just in case' could be pretty much anything!"

She had a hard time disagreeing with that. By the time she disconnected the phone and put it back in her purse, Mick was by her side.

"Wow that was fast, even for you! Looking into his clear, direct gaze, her stomach did a quick flipflop. It already felt like an eternity since they had slept together, and she had to resist the urge to throw herself into his arms.

He felt no need for such self control. "Before we discuss this emergency..." he began, and grabbed her for a quick, passionate kiss, his eyes darkening with feeling. Reluctantly ending the kiss, he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"God, I've missed you today," he murmured huskily.

Beth put her arms around his neck and hugged him back. "Me too. It seems like it's been days since we've seen each other." The contact made her realize that he felt uncharacteristically warm. Slowly breaking their embrace so that she could get a good look at him for the first time, Beth took in his pale, haggard appearance. His eyes were shadowed, with deep circles under them and his lips were chapped.

"Mick, you don't look good. What's wrong?" She laid her hand on his cheek. "You feel warm!" There was a lot she didn't know about vampires, but she had enough knowledge to understand that this this wasn't good.

"I'm fine." Mick brushed off her concern. "I just need some freezer time."

"When – I mean, how soon?" Beth prodded.

"Yesterday would be good," he replied dryly. "But, since time travel is not one of my special abilities, I'll settle for as soon as possible."

"OK." Beth mentally regrouped. "Let's get this taken care of then, so you can get out of here. We need to get inside so I can show you what I found. I hope you'll tell me I'm overreacting, but I'm really worried."

The two lovers faced the Monaghan residence, the gloomy light giving it a faintly threatening appearance.

Mick sighed tiredly as he dropped the duffel bag he had brought. "I don't suppose you have a key?" He looked at Beth hopefully.

"No, I don't think Talbot trusts me. Everyone seems to have a key but me!" Beth shrugged, discouraged. Brightening, she added hopefully, "But, you can do your 'sexy vampire jumping thing', right?"

The last thing I feel like doing right now is any 'sexy vampire jumping'. Running his hands through his wavy hair, he flashed a brief smile at Beth, "OK, 'sexy vampire jumping thing' it is." Handing her the duffel, he looked around carefully to make sure they were not being watched, then flexed his knees and jumped straight up into the misty air, long coat flapping in the breeze he created. Landing on the balcony above, he stumbled slightly, realizing that he was weaker than he thought. He really did need to get some freezer time - and blood - soon.

Hurrying now, he opened the French doors and entered the room inside, stopping dead in his tracks to take in the pictures and mementos scattered around what had obviously been a shared room for Emma and Jackson Monaghan. Since they slept in a double–wide freezer together, they would have had no need for a master bedroom, but this room must have been a personal sanctuary for them. A quick look around assured him that what he was seeing were personal souvenirs of vacations and times together. None appeared old enough or unusual enough to arouse any interest or suspicion.

Mick was hit again with the weight of knowing that his 'testimony' about Emma's threat to expose the vampire community had led to her execution. He reminded himself that Emma was a brilliant lawyer and had known what she was doing when she made those threats - and Jackson had shared her fate at his own request. Still, he couldn't help but feel sadness and remorse for how things had played out. He shook his head to clear his mind of those thoughts, knowing there could have been no other choice, and headed for the door.

Bounding down the long, elaborate staircase, he had to pause briefly, putting his hand out to touch the wall to keep himself from falling down, as another wave of dizziness swept over him. OK, seriously?! No more nights like last night for a while! After the dizziness passed, he continued down the stairs to the foyer, opening the massive front door for Beth, who slipped inside with a relieved look. Studying his face worriedly, she grabbed his hand and guided him to the study with her, still carrying the duffel he had left in her care.

"Remember when we talked to Jackson in this room? I was looking at their collection of marriage certificates and noticing how there was a new one every 20 years or so – with a new set of names." Reaching the study and turning to face the wall, she made a sweeping gesture with her arm toward the incriminating wall of frames in front of them. "These certificates, Mick! They are all still here – right out in plain sight for someone like Talbot to find. Someone who doesn't like unanswered questions."

Mick cursed softly under his breath.

Beth was right. This IS bad!

"What should we do, Mick?"

"I don't think we need to worry about the average cop noticing them – hidden in plain sight is sometimes the best thing to do. But, I agree with you – we need to get them out of here before someone like Talbot comes in for another look - he might not miss them. Let's bag them up and get out of here," He bent over to brace his hands against his knees as his strength abruptly left him.

Beth looked at him, her eyes serious. "How can I help you, Mick?" Her concern was mounting with each passing moment.

"Let's just get this stuff out of here." He straightened, staggering slightly.

Immediately, Beth set to the task at hand, dropping the duffel on the ground and dragging a chair over to the wall to reach the certificates mounted higher than she could reach. One by one, she carefully placed each into the large bag - the last thing they needed was broken glass scattered around the room.

While Beth dealt with the collection of marriage certificates, Mick prowled the room, using both his heightened vampire senses and his finely honed detective skills to look for any additional incriminating evidence. Finding nothing, he dragged his phone out of his coat pocket and punched in Josef Kostan's number to give him an update. No doubt, Josef was ready to rip someone's head off by now – and he didn't want to be responsible for any more deaths today!

---

Somehow, Ben Talbot had survived the morning...barely. The District Attorney's press conference had gone smoothly enough - considering that a first-degree murder suspect managed to escape on his watch.

To his chagrin – and occasional regret – the reality of the job didn't match what he had envisioned when he'd lobbied for this position. Today, for example, the young assistant district attorney had spent the day fielding calls from the press, officers, his boss, damned near every city official, and several others who were all either angered by, or interested in, the Monaghan situation. As he glanced up at the clock, however, Talbot realized that there was indeed at least one person left in Los Angeles he hadn't heard from. The ADA picked up his phone to dial Beth Turner's cell, but the new incoming call light beckoned for his immediate attention. "Talbot," he answered tersely.

"Davis here." Lieutenant Carl was equally brief. "I'm on my way back to the hospital. Is Beth with you? I can't reach her on her cell and I wanted to have her check on something for me."

Confusion crossed the ADA's features, as if he'd somehow missed part of a prior conversation. "What do you mean? Isn't she still with you?"

"No, I... she's not back yet?"

Ben noted with concern the surprise in the detective's voice. "No. She hasn't called me either – and she was supposed to report in to me as soon as she finished going over the house."

"That's strange. I left the Monaghan house just under an hour ago, give or take. Last I saw her, she was sitting in her car making a call. I thought it was to you."

"No. She didn't call me," Ben replied tightly, almost accusingly. "Did she say anything - do anything - while you were with her?"

"You know…there was something else." Carl thought back to Beth Turner's actions at the Monaghan home. "The last room we looked in at the house was the study. I went outside to get some air, but I was watching her through the window. Beth started acting strange in there all of a sudden – like she'd seen something. Fixated, if you ask me – I startled her when I came back in. She said she was just tired, lack of sleep..." He paused. "Look, I've known Beth for a long time now…something's up."

Talbot's jaw clenched tightly as he mulled over what Davis had said. If he was accurate – and Carl was nothing if not that – then he had a good idea of what was happening. Or at least, who was involved. "Carl... gotta go. Thanks for calling. Give the officer my regards."

Talbot hung up, not waiting to hear anymore from Carl Davis. Grabbing his jacket, he exited the office, heading toward one of the administrative assistants on the floor. "Ms. Sommers, please forward all calls to my voicemail, except for the DA – if he calls, put him straight through to my cell."

"But... Mr. Talbot... where are you – ", the young brunette started to inquire, her puzzled expression clearly visible behind her glasses. All she got was silence, as ADA Talbot hurried through the floor's main entrance and rounded the corner, finally disappearing from sight.

---

Josef Kostan paused in his pacing to grab the ringing cell phone off his desk. Seeing Mick St. John's ID come up on the screen, Kostan muttered, "It's about friggin' time" under his breath and activated the call.

"What?!" he demanded of his best friend and confidante.

"Josef, it's OK!"

"It'd better be, my friend, because this has not been a great morning!" Kostan growled. "Logan still hasn't located Ryder – did you know there was a massive earthquake in Chile overnight?"

Startled, Mick dropped heavily into a chair across the room from Beth. What next?!

"No, Josef, I've been kinda busy here. But given the way this day's been going, I'm not the least bit surprised!" Quickly, he filled the 400-year-old vampire in on what Beth had found, and the steps they were taking to fix the situation.

"Without Beth, this could have been very dangerous for us all, Josef," Mick pointed out. His mentor was often disparaging of human relationships, and, while Kostan had encouraged him to take the plunge and start a relationship with Beth, he also cautioned him about disclosing too much to her. Mick couldn't resist the opportunity to reinforce her value to his kind, especially to Josef.

"OK, OK, I get it. Remind me to thank her. As a matter of fact, I'll send her a little something from the latest Stella McCartney collection. Paul and I go way back – I like to throw his kid some business whenever I can."

"Wait, Josef. You know Paul McCartney?!"

"Mick, who do you think introduced Paul to John? You have me to thank for 'My Life'," Josef teased, referring to St. John's favorite Beatles tune. "OK, Stella it is. Maybe Beth can replace some of those tacky 'public servant' clothes she wears," he added slyly.

"I'll be sure to mention that to her sometime when I have a death wish, Josef." He didn't want to think of the revenge Beth would exact if she heard a comment like that from him... I can imagine her response – and the picture isn't pretty. It involves blood, stakes, and screaming – all on Josef's part!

Josef brought him back to the present, snapping, "OK, you and our new best friend, Beth, get everything cleaned up there – and get some freezer time. I want you both here for a meeting tonight at ten."

"You want Beth there too?!" Mick was incredulous. "Why, Josef?"

"Ten o'clock, Mick. Be there. And bring that evidence with you." Josef said, breaking the connection. He turned to the vampires who had been waiting uncertainly in his office while he finished his conversation. "I want everyone here at ten tonight," he emphasized, "and that includes The Cleaner!"

St. John stared at the phone in his hand, as if contemplation of the polished screen could somehow help him decipher Josef Kostan's intentions. Sighing, he shoved it in his coat pocket and started over to where Beth was just climbing down from rescuing the last of the marriage licenses from the wall. His eyes fell on the wedding photo of Jackson and Emma that Beth had pointed out that time on their last visit there and he lifted it off the wall. He closed his eyes, lost in the terrible vision of the couple going up in flames together, executed at the hands of The Cleaner. The vampire didn't notice Beth until she laid her hand on his sleeve.

"Mick, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I was just thinking about Emma and Jackson..." his voice trailed off as he looked down at the wedding photo again.

Knowing how Mick tormented himself over his decision to disclose Emma's threats, Beth was firm. "It wasn't your fault. You told me yourself – there have to be rules for you to survive. Emma knew that. I didn't understand at first, but I'm beginning to. It wasn't your fault." She was more forceful this time. "We need to get out of here, Mick."

Mick nodded his assent, picking up the now–heavy duffel. Glancing at the bare wall, he frowned. "We can't leave it like that, Beth, with all those nails and nail holes showing – there may as well be a neon sign that says 'Evidence Removed'. We've got to figure something out."

Her eyes lit on the tall, antique secretary next to the spot on the wall that had, until just a few moments ago, held a collection of incriminating marriage certificates. The exquisite piece of furniture would easily hide the wall space where the memorabilia had hung and it wasn't positioned in an area where it would have been part of any pictures of the scene that the police might have taken.

"Mick, do you feel well enough to move that cabinet over in front of that section of wall?" She gestured at the out–sized piece of furniture.

"I'm not that far gone!" Mick snorted, dropping the bag and walking over to shove the secretary into place, concealing the bare wall space where the certificates had been displayed. Turning back to Beth, he started to form a sarcastic comeback, but suddenly staggered and slumped limply against an upholstered chair.

"Mick!" Beth shouted, jumping to his side. "Mick!" For an anxious moment, the P.I. didn't respond. When he finally opened his eyes, he looked at Beth blankly, his eyes ice-blue, fangs showing. "Mick!" Beth cried again, bending over him.

For a split second, all St. John could see was the throbbing carotid artery in front of him. Forgetting where he was and who he was with, he began to raise his head, the pulsing now an almost irresistible call to feed.

"Mick, you have to get up!" Beth was frantic now, unaware of his struggle to control his vampire instincts. The words brought him back to his senses. Horrified, he retracted his fangs, and leaning heavily on Beth, climbed to his feet.

She helped him sit in the armchair he'd been leaning against, and then knelt down in front of him so that she could get a good look at his face. His color was grey and, frighteningly, his eyes were beginning to take on a sickly yellow cast. She had seen that look before...

Beth's phone rang suddenly, freezing both of them. "Oh, God, it's Talbot!" Beth groaned, looking at the display.

"Let it go to voicemail," St. John gasped, struggling to muster the strength to get out of the Monaghan mansion with their stolen evidence. Beth wasn't sure that was the wisest course but followed his direction as she looked searchingly into his face, trying to assess his condition.

---

"Beth, this is Ben. Please call me as soon as you get this message."

Talbot disconnected in a huff, concentrating instead on the road and traffic ahead. He prided himself upon his ability to remain calm and unflappable, regardless of the circumstances. This situation with Beth Turner, however, was unnerving him more than he found acceptable. Logically, there could be any number of reasons why she wasn't reachable – a problem with a cell tower, dead battery... or even something wrong with her.

What was making him increasingly angry was that none of these seemed as likely as the one possibility that trumped all others – that a certain private investigator had once again violated the sanctity of his investigation.

Aside from his personal dislike of the man, Talbot had several reasons for his welling animosity toward Mick St. John. As he'd reminded both the P.I. and his civilian investigator, crime scenes were sacrosanct – evidence integrity, chain of custody and all related issues must be above reproach. Private investigators such as St. John, were not officers of the court and therefore had to be properly approved and supervised to prevent legal complications.

Even if Beth didn't understand the seriousness of this transgression, St. John should. Talbot grimly contemplated the possible negative outcomes in a worst-case scenario. All evidence found at the Monaghan residence subsequent to the first official search could be deemed inadmissible. Without question, Ms. Turner would, at the very least, be disciplined, and possibly terminated.

And St. John... As a licensed private investigator, willfully trespassing on a crime scene could carry a very steep penalty, up to and including incarceration. Of course, should it come to that, Talbot would perform his due diligence to ensure that he would serve the maximum possible sentence under the law.

Ben considered attempting to call Beth one more time, but just as quickly dismissed the idea, pressing down on the accelerator a little harder instead. He wasn't far from the house now. He'd get his answers soon enough.

Beth remained uneasy after Talbot's call to her rolled into voicemail. Why is Ben calling from his cell? He was supposed to be at the office, tracking the Monaghan investigation and dealing with the political fallout.

Following her instincts, she called the D.A.'s office, where the administrative assistant picked up the phone.

"Jamie Sommers here."

"Jamie, Beth Turner. I work for ADA Talbot as a civilian investigator."

Oh, yes, Miss Turner. Mr. Talbot told us you'd be working with him."

"Please, Jamie, call me Beth. Do you know where I might reach the ADA? He left me a voicemail and I'm trying to catch up with him. It seems like he called from his cell, but he had told me he was staying in the office to head up the Monaghan investigation. I really need to speak with him."

"He didn't tell me where he was going, Miss... Beth," the administrator admitted. "He took a call from Lieutenant Davis after the press conference, and then left here in a big hurry. The only thing he told me was that he could be reached on his cell. I'm sorry I can't be of more help – it's been crazy here today after the Monaghan escape."

"I know it has, Jamie. Don't worry about it. Do you remember how long ago he left?"

"I think it was about 20 minutes ago, but I can't be sure."

With a sinking feeling, Beth said hurriedly, "I'll just keep trying him on his cell. If he calls in, let him know I wanted to talk to him, would you?"

"Sure, Beth. I'm looking forward to working with you."

Shoving her phone back in her coat pocket, Beth eyed the vampire, whose color had improved slightly. "Mick, do you think you can get up? Talbot is on the move and I have a bad feeling that he could be on his way here. If I'm right, and he finds you here, there will be serious hell to pay!"

St. John nodded, getting to his feet – and staggered again. Beth grabbed for him but he shook her off. Without acknowledging what had just happened, he retrieved the heavy duffel bag and croaked hoarsely, "You're right, we have to get out of here. Let's go!"

As Beth started out of the study, a glint of light caught her eye. To her horror, she saw one more certificate, larger than the rest – she'd missed it because it was situated in a place of honor over the entrance to the music room, away from the others, a single spotlight shining on it. Walking over underneath it, she could read the information and the date: Emma and Jackson Monaghan, February 18, 1858.

"Oh my God!" Beth breathed.

"What?" Mick's eyes narrowed with the effort to merge the two Beth Turners he was seeing into one image.

"We missed one. This is Emma and Jackson's original marriage license!"

"Beth, get out of here. If you're right and Talbot's on his way here, he can't find you in here! I'll get it."

"You can barely walk! I'm not leaving you in here, Mick!"

At that moment, Mick raised his hand to silence her, training his extraordinary vampire hearing on the road outside. "There's a car coming! Get outside to your car. If it's Talbot…stall him! Now, go!" he urged, forcing a smile for her sake as he gave her a small push toward the front door. "Remember, I'm not a 'lame' human. I'll be fine."

Beth gave him a long, searching look, then kissed him quickly on the lips and ran for the front door. Locking the door from the inside, she pulled it shut behind her, her last view one of Mick standing in the study staring at her. Get going, Mick!

---

In Los Angeles, one often noted travel in terms of time, rather than distance. A commute that required half an hour to complete early in the morning could take twice as long at a different time of day. Ben Talbot arrived in the Monaghan neighborhood about forty minutes after he started, an acceptable time frame, given that it was now late morning, with people gearing up for the lunch rush. The assistant district attorney made his final turn onto the block where the Monaghan residence was located. Slowing to a crawl, he surveyed the area, looking for two specific automobiles – especially a certain vintage Mercedes convertible.

Talbot had briefly considered calling Lieutenant Davis for back up… just in case…but dismissed the idea. If anyone was going to face St. John, it would be him, alone. And he would have the law on his side. He was so intent on finding the private detective that he almost didn't notice a familiar Prius that was now coming into view, parked at the curb across the street from the Monaghan mansion.

Beth, remembering her story to Carl Davis, quickly ran down the steps and across the street, hopping into her car just moments before Talbot's car appeared in her rearview mirror. Being in her car would buy Mick a few more precious seconds – and from the look of him, he might need them. As an afterthought, she put her phone on standby and plugged it into the car charger.

Surreptitiously, she slid her notebook into her lap, opening it and making a few quick notations. She offered up a silent prayer that Mick was able to get out of the house.

"BETH!"

She didn't have to fake being startled at the sound of her name being shouted, accompanied by the sudden and forceful rapping on the car window. Talbot! Beth relaxed and rolled down the window.

"Ben?" she asked innocently enough, "Wha... what's going on? What are you doing here?"

Talbot bypassed even the most basic pleasantries. "The question is - why you are still here? Why aren't you back at the office?"

"I just decided to work on my report here, while the details were still fresh." Beth tried to keep her tone careful, measured, with just the right hint of puzzlement. "I- I wanted to get a jump on the work." She waved her notebook for emphasis.

"Then why didn't you answer my call?" It more of an accusation than a question.

Beth sighed heavily, and indicated her phone, which was obviously plugged into the car charger. "Sorry Ben, this hasn't been my best day. It died on me. It didn't charge last night for some reason. I rushed out the door so fast this morning, I forgot my laptop so I'm just writing everything out so I can type up the report when I get back to the office."

Talbot considered what his investigator had told him. It did make sense – Beth was nothing if not efficient and thorough. Still, the earlier comments Lieutenant Davis had made about her behavior in the house could not be so easily dismissed. There was one simple way to put any doubts to rest.

"Tell you what," he began, trying for a more relaxed tone, "how about you give me a quick tour of the residence? Just ... for my benefit." That explanation sounded unconvincing, even to his ears, so he added, "I don't need any more static from the higher–ups - or questions I can't answer. Plus," he smiled, "this gives me an excuse to get out of that freakin' office for a bit. The phones were driving me crazy."

Beth slowly tucked away her things, both in an attempt to stall for time and to collect her thoughts. "OK," she finally conceded, "if that's what you want. After all," she managed a smile, "you're the boss."

"OK then, let's go", he prompted, holding the car door open for her.

The ADA and his investigator walked in silence across the street and up the driveway towards the Monaghan residence. Beth deliberately strolled slowly, doing everything in her power to ensure that Mick had the time he needed to disappear.

Just as they reached the porch, she stopped suddenly, causing Talbot to bump into her. "Sorry, Ben! You do have the key, right?" The question was genuine. "I don't have one. Lieutenant Carl had to let me in, remember?" Maybe he forgot to get it!

He reached into one coat pocket, then the other, finally producing the object in question, dangling it in front of her in acondescending fashion – or at least that's how it appeared to Beth. "Yep, right here. Shall we continue?"

This time a hint of irritation crept through Beth's response. "So, quick in, quick out, right? I've already been here all morning, and there isn't anything still here that's noteworthy. Lieutenant Carl was right – the investigators were thorough."

Ben again smiled thinly. "Then you get to show me how well they did their jobs. We can both admire their work."

Mick stood just inside the heavy front door, listening to the sounds of the two of them talking outside. It appeared clear that Ben Talbot was distrustful of Beth, insisting that they search the house together.

Moving at vampire speed, he ran back into the study, jumping up to grab the offending marriage license from its spot high on the wall. Landing as lightly and silently as a cat, he put the last certificate in his duffel bag, zipped it up and headed back upstairs, faster than a human could track. Reaching the second floor landing, he had to pause for a moment as another wave of lightheadedness washed over him, and his vision darkened. He refused to give in to the weakness, taking deep breaths until it passed.

He couldn't go back out the way he had entered unless he timed it just right – the master bedroom balcony opened out on the front of the house. Normally, that wouldn't be a major problem, but the waves of dizziness and weakness were becoming frequent enough that he didn't dare risk it. It'd be just his luck that he'd black out while he was waiting for the right moment to jump and run. He would have to find another way. He went down the hall, quietly opening and closing doors, looking for the best exit strategy.

Opening the last door, he saw through the room to another balcony, this one overlooking a spacious pool, beautifully landscaped with a waterfall and lush greenery. Perfect!

Heaving the strap of the duffel over his head, he strode out to the balcony, climbed over the railing and gracefully floated down to the ground, his long coat billowing out behind him like a cape. Taking a quick look around, he adjusted the bag's strap and sped off to his car – a blur in the wet, gray day.

---

"Okay, but if we don't find anything – which we won't – no report, and I don't go back to the office today. Deal?" Beth negotiated with Ben, injecting what she hoped was an air of teasing. It was partially to get out of writing a report – but mostly to stall for time.

They stood in the open doorway of the Monaghan house. Ben had been just about to cross the threshold when Beth stopped him and proposed this bet. His brows furrowed as he looked at his feisty new assistant, who stood facing him with an unflinching stare, her hand outstretched. "Okay, deal." He finally shook her hand and started over the threshold.

"No welching, right?" Stall, Beth, stall.

Ben stopped, frowning down at her as he said, haughtily, "Of course not. I don't welch on a handshake deal. Unless you are a criminal, in which case all bets are off." He peered at her from under thick eyebrows. "You aren't a criminal type...are you, Beth?"

Only if you count hiding evidence, lying to the police, breaking and entering, arranging to have a photographer done away with... With a grim smile, she shook her head. "Nope!" It was all she could trust herself to say. Their agreement in place, and several more minutes helpfully wasted, Beth walked in the house toward the staircase. "After you," she insisted, allowing Talbot to climb the stairs in front of her. She cast a worried glance toward the study, hoping that Mick had made it out safely. Taking a couple of steadying breaths, Beth said a brief, silent prayer and started her own ascent up the stairs.

Talbot entered the first room through heavy double doors, adorned with oiled bronze handles, their surface carved with elaborate figures. After close scrutiny of appeared to be the master bedroom, he conceded to himself that the room had yielded absolutely nothing of value. The same result was repeated over and over in rooms, closets, and drawers: sundry personal effects but nothing of any evidentiary relevance that he could see. Minute by minute, the ADA felt more like a fool, as if fate and karma were somehow in collusion just to toy with him today. But... Carl Davis was not one given to idle chatter... and Mick St. John had a solid history of showing up where he shouldn't...

"Ben, are you OK?"

Beth's inquiry snapped Talbot back into focus. "Yeah... fine... guess I'm tired too," he confessed. Exhaling loudly, he pinched the bridge of his nose. What am I doing here? There was nothing of use in the investigation in the various rooms, drawers, closets or other storage spaces that he'd examined, and, combined with a long day, and nothing but coffee in his system, he found his attention wandering. He had to admit, Beth being tired and a bit 'off' didn't sound so far–fetched after all.

"We're done up here," he finally conceded. "Let's get downstairs. And yeah... this is going to be quick."

The civilian investigator tried her best to hide her pleasure at the fact that Talbot appeared to be giving up. See, asshole? I told you there was nothing to see here, she thought. Thanks to Mick, that is. Outwardly, she simply nodded, and led the way back to the main floor, her worry about Mick and where he might be, her only thought.

Back downstairs, ADA Talbot repeated his earlier actions. Kitchen, living room area, and all other nearby areas... all disgustingly normal. In under an hour, he'd gone through the place, without finding even a hint of anything overlooked.

All except the study.

Standing in front of its closed door, he turned to look at Beth. He had deliberately saved this room for last because of Lieutenant Davis's report. As far as he could tell, though, she seemed nonplussed about the situation. "This room's all that's left," he stated matter–of–factly. "When we're done here, we're done for the day – or at least you are," he added with a wink.

The span of time between Ben's hand touching the knob and the study door's actual opening felt like forever to Beth.

"After you," Ben insisted, carefully watching Beth's demeanor as she entered the room.

A forced smile plastered on her features, Beth fought a wave of nausea caused by dread and worry. She walked into the study, careful not to broadcast her inner turmoil to the ADA whom she knew was watching her closely, despite his best efforts at obfuscation. How does he suspect that there's something in this room? Did Davis rat me out?

Most of her tension dissipated as she realized that Mick had, indeed, managed to get out with all of the potentially problematic evidence of supernaturally-long lives. A quick glance at the previously offensive wall now yielded only the sight of a cabinet – not even one scrap of paper remained. Her immediate worries abated, Beth turned to Ben, re-arranging her features into a perplexed expression. "Well, are you gonna just stand there, or help me go through this room... again?"

Mumbling under his breath, Talbot entered the study and immediately began rifling through the desk drawers, venting his growing sense of impotence with each pull and subsequent slam. Were it not for her continuing concern for Mick's welfare, Beth would have been smirking. Instead, she allowed herself to take a small measure of pleasure in Ben's disgruntlement. He'd rightfully earned it in her estimation.

"Do you need my help with anything?" Beth offered innocently. Judging from his dismissive grunt, she took that as a "no". She stood by, arms folded, watching her boss go through every conceivable crevice. Yep, Carl definitely ratted me out.

"Nothing," Talbot muttered, not attempting to mask his wounded pride.

The silent stand–off between the house's lone occupants was shattered by the sound of a cell phone ringing.

Ben reached into his coat and answered, "Talbot here." He already knew the call had to be important.

Beth couldn't quite overhear the conversation, but, judging from the looks of surprise and sudden realization, accompanied by rapid nodding, something had hit.

"Okay, got it, I'm on my way now!" Talbot all but beamed as he ended the call. "We got a pop! Los Angeles International Airport – the Monaghans are listed on an American Airlines flight manifest. Destination is Arturo Merino Benitez International Airport, Santiago, Chile. Gotta go!" As quickly as possible, the duo left the study, closing the door behind them, and hurrying to exit the house. Talbot locked the front door, and sprinted down the driveway, Beth trailing behind. Ben had almost reached his car when his cell phone rang again. "Talbot," he answered abruptly. "WHAT THE HELL?! Call American Airlines – I need to talk to someone IN PERSON. Tell whoever it is I am en route to LAX, and SOMEONE from the airline had damned well better be there! Call me back with the details!" he ordered, as he fished his keys from his pocket.

The ADA noticed his investigator standing in front of him, looking confused. "It seems the manifest was from a past flight. It looks like the Monaghans have fled the country," he explained over his shoulder while unlocking and getting in his vehicle. Before he could drive off, yet another phone call interrupted him. This time Ben remained silent. "Really? And when did that charge hit? Where do you think they're headed?" Another brief silence. "Okay, text me the summary information ASAP." Ben slammed his cell phone down on the empty passenger seat. He looked straight ahead for a moment, deep in thought, then seemed to realize that Beth was still standing next to his car.

"Credit card activity in Santiago, and then about 50 miles out, headed south. There are a lot of areas where they could disappear, but according to our intel, the most likely destination is Los Angeles, Chile – it's a major conduit between Santiago and Southern Chile," he finished his explanation with an irritated snap of his seat belt.

"That's good news that you've located them, Ben. Well-done! Sooooo, no report, right?" Never hurts to praise the boss...

Cranking up the engine, Ben answered his investigator's question regarding their deal. "See you Monday, Turner."

Watching Talbot pull away, Beth sighed. Would this day never end?

"Mick!" she suddenly gasped. Did he get to his car in one piece? She grabbed her phone and hurriedly called his cell. Listening to it ring, Beth pleaded with it, "Come on, Mick. Pick up!"

After what seemed like an eternity, Mick answered, his voice hoarse and weak. Alarmed, Beth exclaimed, "Mick, Talbot's left. Where is your car? I'm coming to get you!"

Sitting in the driver's seat of his Mercedes, St. John tried to respond to her question, but after his superhuman efforts to get out of the Monaghan home and back to his car with the evidence, he was completely spent. Try as he might, he was too weak to formulate a coherent answer for Beth.

"Mick, hang on. I'll find you!" Beth sat in her car, staring at the phone in her hand while she ran through possible options in her head. With his vampire speed, Mick's car could be blocks away in any direction. Driving around randomly would lose precious time in reaching him. Dammit, why hadn't they set up their phones to share locations with one another?!

Suddenly, it hit her. "Logan!" The vampire geek had helped them track people before through their cell phone signals. "Mick, I'm going to call Logan, he'll help me find you! Just stay with me, OK?" Beth's voice cracked slightly on the last word. Taking a deep breath to steady herself and saying a silent prayer that Logan wasn't asleep in a freezer somewhere, she dialed his number.

"Calrissian here. What can I do for you, Princess Leia?"

Beth had to smile despite the seriousness of the situation. Logan Griffen was a curly–haired, overgrown teenager who rarely left his basement lair, spending his time obsessing over Star Wars trivia and playing endless games of Guitar Hero and World of Warcraft. He was also a vampire who did a lot of high-tech work for vamps in L.A. Mick St. John used his services frequently in his investigations and it was he who had introduced Logan to Beth.

"Logan, this is important. Mick's in his car somewhere nearby, and I've got him on the line, but he's sick and I don't know where he's parked. Can you track his location from his cell phone signal? I need to get to him right away!"

"For my favorite human and vampire, anything! Give me a sec to set this up..."

Beth could hear the rapid-fire stroke of computer keys in the background as she waited impatiently, drumming her fingers on her steering wheel.

"OK, up and running," Logan announced. "What the hell has he been doing this time?" He didn't wait for an answer. "OK, here we go. I can pinpoint both of you – he's about five blocks south of your location, on a side street - Goldman.

"Logan, thank you, thank you! I love you!" Beth cried.

"Well, you could show me how much you love me by...oh, wait, I forgot. You're Mick's human – and he doesn't share!" With a laugh, Logan broke the connection.

Beth clicked back over to St. John's line. "Mick, Logan found you. I'll be right there!" Without waiting for a reply, she sped off, scanning the side streets for the distinctive car.

After traveling a half-dozen blocks, she spotted it and pulled in behind the old Mercedes. Jumping out of her car, she ran up and banged on the window, startling Mick out of his daze. She gasped when he looked up at her, the sclera of his eyes now totally yellow. The sight immediately took her back to their encounter in the desert.

Mick had risked his life to rescue a key witness for an important case to help Josh Lindsay, Beth's boyfriend at the time. In protecting Leni Hayes from almost certain death at the hands of a ruthless arms dealer, he had ended up stranded in the desert with her, arguably one of the worst possible places for a vampire. Despite being near death from the heat and sun, he had resisted his instincts to feed on a pregnant Leni. When Beth found him, he was delirious, sitting in a tub of cold water and ice that had done little to bring down his core temperature.

Beth had saved his life then, demanding that he feed on her. It hadn't been easy to overcome his reluctance; in his eyes, death was preferable to drinking her blood. She was an irresistible force that day, however, and he had fed enough from her to save himself. The experience had almost separated them forever. Mick had a difficult time overcoming his guilt. He later told her that the thought running through his head at the time was that the one thing he needed to save his life was the one thing that would make life unbearable for him - using her for his own needs.

His eyes now were the same sickly yellow that she remembered from that terrible day in the desert. Quickly, she circled the car, opening the passenger door and sliding into the seat beside him. "Mick, let me help you. You need blood," she exclaimed.

Mick shook his head in an emphatic 'no'. "My place... blood there." he whispered.

"No! I'm not waiting – you're not waiting!" Beth was adamant. "Mick, you have to trust me. I am offering because I want to – because I love you!" She put her hands on his cheeks, turning his head so that he was forced to look into her eyes.

"Please, let me help you," she begged, pulling him toward her and leaning over to press her forehead against his.

Mick gave a deep, shuddering sigh, as if the weight of the world had suddenly been heaped onto his shoulders and he was fighting to keep from being crushed by it. She's right, I need this – but I don't want it. Or maybe...I want it too much.

"Please, Mick." Her voice was a whisper.

Reaching a decision, his left hand slowly moved up to caress her cheek, then sliding down to her neck, stroking it. Without saying another word, he bared his fangs, puncturing the sensitive skin of her neck where he had caressed it as gently as he could. He slowly began to feed, trying to make the experience as pleasurable for her as possible.

Beth quivered when Mick touched her, gasping involuntarily when he bit her neck. It stung! Almost immediately, however, the stinging was replaced by overwhelming pleasure, warmth seeming to radiate down from her neck into the rest of her body. She relaxed into the seat, tilting her head back against the headrest and exposing her throat further as she rode the wave of sensation. This is very different from the desert!

Mick also felt the difference. While he desperately needed to feed now, it was nowhere near as critical a situation as he had experienced in the desert when he had been so near death. He could maintain enough control to give both of them an intimate experience. He was also more confident this time that his feeding on her would not repel Beth or drive her away. He always fought the urge to feed on humans - especially Beth - but the reality was that the experience could be extremely sensual, for human and vamp alike.

After what felt like only a few moments to Beth, but a lifetime to Mick, he pulled back. Looking into her dazed eyes as his fangs receded, he smiled slightly and kissed her with such tenderness that she barely felt the touch.

Reaching up, he ran his thumb lightly along her lips, then did the same with his own, as if savoring the feel and scent of the kiss left behind. The yellow cast to his eyes was fading already, his color improving, as Beth's blood pumped through his veins. "I think we can leave now," he whispered, his voice still hoarse.

With a sigh, Beth sat up. "I think I've found something I like even better than the sexy vampire jumping thing!" She pulled down the sun visor to check herself in the mirror attached to it, tilting her chin to see the bite marks on her pale skin, which were already receding. She remarked on that to Mick and added, "That's pretty wild, you know."

"Pretty weird, you mean." A slight smile pulled at the edges of the vampire's mouth. "Look, Beth, I can't tell you how much I appreciate what you just did for me. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but we are not going to make a habit of this, so don't get any bright ideas. Now, let's get the hell out of here."

Beth reluctantly climbed out of his car and shut the door as he started it. Leaning in through the passenger window, she smiled sweetly and purred in her best imitation of a phone sex voice, "This isn't over."

Mick cocked one eyebrow at her and shook his head, starting his car as she walked off. I could get used to this...and that's what scares me.

Beth followed Mick's lead back to his penthouse on Drexel, carefully watching the car ahead for signs that he might be weakening again. Mick was doing the same thing with her, his sharp gaze trained on the rear-view mirror to make sure she was in no danger. As he drove, he glanced at his phone and realized that he had missed two calls from Josef while he was...incapacitated. He sighed. Damn it! Josef would be having a cow by now and he did not feel up to dealing with another round of the Kostan paranoia hit parade. Well, may as well get it over with.

Mick hit his speed dial and hadn't even gotten the phone up to his ear before Josef was shouting at him.

"What the hell happened to you, Mick?! The last thing I heard from you was that you and... Beth...were taking care of the situation. I've been calling for the past hour! What's going on?!"

"Everything's fine, Josef. We got everything and got out of there before Talbot showed up – but it was close. Without Beth, we would have been in a world of hurt."

"Aren't we supposed to have super–crafty vampire powers?" Josef's tone was sarcastic. "I would have thought that would make things easier for you."

"Yeah, well, I need some freezer time, so I was a little slow on the draw."

"Don't tell me, let me guess. You and Beth stopped off for a 'quickie' on the way over to Monaghans'"

Exasperated, and in no mood for banter, friendly or otherwise, Mick snapped at his friend. "Josef, the situation is taken care of. That's as far as we need to go with this discussion." Change the subject. "Have you heard back from Logan or Ryder?"

"Actually, I've talked to both of them. For once, Logan has been some help." This admission was made reluctantly. He went on to explain that Ryder had been briefly trapped in a collapsed building after the massive earthquake devastated the Chilean area, losing his phone in the process. "If he hadn't been a vamp, he'd probably be dead – he was on his way out of the building when it hit." It's a good thing vamps have a 'sixth sense' about that sort of thing… "It took him half the morning, but he found another phone and got hold of Logan."

Josef didn't add that Ryder had called Logan – and him – from the air. When he heard that Ryder had chartered the private jet – using his, Josef Kostan's, emergency account – he had been speechless, a condition that did not often afflict the elder vampire. The conversation had not been a pleasant one.

"I tried to call you, but there was no time..." Ryder had begun, adding lamely, "I didn't think you'd mind! It was the only way I could get back! The major airports here are all damaged from the quake; nothing is flying in or out."

Kostan had sighed. Why did all these problems seem to be landing in his lap? The only thing he liked in his lap was a beautiful freshie... "I forgive you, Ryder. I'll take it out of your paycheck for the next 20 years or so, but I forgive you. Just get your ass back here."

Returning to the present, and his conversation with Mick St. John, he continued, "I don't know what they did or how they did it, but the two of them have created the electronic trail to make it look like Emma and Jackson fled to Chile. Ryder got to the hotel and planted some physical evidence. As a matter of fact, that's where he was when the earthquake hit. The building that fell down on him was the Hotel Diego De Almagro in Los Angeles." Josef stated dryly, "I've actually stayed at that hotel. It has the misfortune of being right next to the Antuco Volcano – not someplace you want to be when an earthquake hits."

Exhausted and still feeling the effects of his long, grueling day, Mick was having a hard time following Josef's narrative. "Wait, here in L.A.?" He was confused - that made no sense!

"Mick, snap out of it! Los Angeles, Chile. That's where, I believe, we sent the Monaghans – in spirit, at least. You told me that yourself! It was our very good fortune – and the misfortune of the poor souls that live there – that they had a major earthquake there last night. 7.7 on the Richter scale, I believe. A very good number."

Mick ended the conversation as he pulled into the parking garage under his penthouse building with Beth right behind. "I told you it would work out. Now, I have to get some freezer time if you want me at your little soiree this evening."

"I definitely want you there. And listen, you have to take care of yourself, Mick. You're no good to anyone dead. Undead, yes. Dead, no. After all, Beth doesn't have a copy of 'The Proper Care and Feeding of Vampires' to refer to when you pull one of your stunts and try to kill yourself off."

He paused, and Mick could almost hear his wheels turning. "Hmmmm. Maybe I should get her a copy – as a housewarming gift, perhaps. After I hire someone to ghost write it for me, of course." Mick heard the vampire snicker.

"I'm glad you are able to amuse yourself, Josef. Thanks all the same, but I can take care of myself." This last comment elicited a snort from his friend. After a moment's pause, Mick asked with a casualness he did not feel, "You still want Beth there tonight?"

"I wouldn't dream of having it without her," Josef retorted smoothly. "Ten o'clock. See you both then, Mick." With that, the phone fell silent.

Beth was at her lover's side before he had even hung up with Kostan, insisting on helping him with the duffel.

"Beth, I'm fine!" Mick protested.

"I'll believe you're fine when I see you drink some blood!" Pausing, she raised her eyebrows. "Wow, I did not just say that did I?"

"Yeah. You did." Mick smiled wickedly. When she says things like that, it almost feels like this could work.

Entering the elevator, Beth pushed the button for the penthouse level and sank back against the steel wall, smiling at Mick, who had assumed the same position against the opposite wall. She exhaled loudly. "It's been quite a day, hasn't it?"

Mick held out his arm so that she could see the watch on his wrist. "It's not even three o'clock!" She groaned in response.

The elevator slid smoothly and silently up to the top floor, depositing them in the long, gleaming hallway. Beth remembered the first time she had walked down this hall to visit Mick. She had been blown away by the modern art, marble trim, and polished surfaces, and remembered thinking, Wow, the private investigator business must be pretty good! Hard to believe that was just a few short months ago - so much had changed in that time.

They made their way silently down the hall, Beth insisting on lugging the heavy duffel bag containing the framed marriage certificates from the Monaghan house. Mick acquiesced, knowing full well how stubborn she could be when she was set on something. He triggered the electronic key to swing open the reinforced stainless steel front door, which appeared to invite them into the sanctuary beyond. And it was indeed a sanctuary. Beth had once teasingly called it the 'Fortress of Style'. Mick could only hope that Josef never got hold of that particular piece of information. He could only imagine the ridicule Kostan would generate over it.

The interior of the penthouse was as modern as the hall that led to it. The lighting was indirect and discrete except for two floor–to–ceiling pillars that flanked the demarcation between living area and the office area beyond. The pillars boasted thin horizontal bands of pale red light girding them, adding to the intimate feel. Tasteful, modern artwork lined the warm tan walls, and the sectional seating in the living area was all caramel–colored leather, as soft as butter.

Beth set the duffel down just inside the door and headed for the inviting couch. Dropping down onto it with a sigh, she watched as Mick locked the door and slid the duffel into a cabinet. "I don't know what I want to do first – order food, take a shower, or take a nap."

"I think you deserve all three," Mick smiled, coming over to lean down and give her a long, lingering kiss. His lips traveled down from her mouth to nuzzle her neck and gently kiss the small wounds, the only signs of his recent feed. Looking up, he held her gaze intently. "Thank you, Beth. I mean it."

"It was my pleasure – and I mean that!" Beth smiled up at him, reaching up to try to pull him down on the couch with her, but he resisted.

"Oh, no you don't!" he protested. "This wasn't part of that list you just mentioned. You need food and rest, in that order."

"So do you, Mick!" Beth admitted defeat. "I'm going to order some food, then take a shower. You need to get some blood in you – now." Getting up and heading toward the phone, she asked, "Do you have a shirt or something I can put on after I shower?"

Mick leered at her. "Why do you think you need anything?!"

"I don't want to give the delivery boy a heart attack when he delivers my Chinese takeout." She held up one finger to silence the response he was formulating, as she placed her order, then switched off her cell phone. "Never mind, I'll find something." She spoke over her shoulder as she headed toward the stairs to shower.

"Umm, you know where everything is, right? I mean, you've been in that shower before." A fleeting image of Beth, soaking wet in a form–fitting black slip dress as he held her under the water, slipped across his mind. He had been trying to wake her up from the effects of the Black Crystal that she had unwisely sampled. Black Crystal - dried, distilled vampire blood - sold to unsuspecting people by Lola. "Or don't you remember?" That was the sexiest shower I've ever taken! I wonder if she even remembers it.

"Oh, I think I know the way," she retorted, without committing to having any memory of the infamous incident.

St. John sighed, watching her go up the stairs. He would love nothing more than to go shower with her, but he desperately needed more blood – and freezer time – if he was to be in any kind of decent shape for Josef's meeting this evening. And he had the feeling he might need to bring his 'A game' to that event. He had yet to break the news to Beth that her presence was also mandatory at this meeting, and he wasn't looking forward to her reaction.

Heading into his ultra–modern kitchen area, he slid back the brushed steel door that hid his refrigerated supply of blood. Grabbing a glass, he filled it with A-positive blood, his favorite, and gulped it fangs, which had started to descend again, immediately retracted. He could feel it happen – a sensation he wasn't sure he would ever grow accustomed to. Refilling the tall glass twice more, he finally began to feel more... well, human wouldn't exactly be the right term, but he certainly felt more like himself.

The knock at the door signaled the arrival of Beth's food. He had just finished paying for it, closing and locking the front door behind the delivery boy, when Beth bounded down the stairs. Mick drank in the sight of her, wet blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her face clean of any makeup except bright red lipstick. He winced when his eyes traveled down to her neck, and the puncture wounds there. They were growing smaller by the hour but were still damning evidence of his recent feed.

She was wearing one of his collared dress shirts, a dark brown pinstripe. He realized, with a start, that it was the same shirt he had put her in that fateful night of her Black Crystal experiment.

Pulling at the hem of the shirt and answering his unspoken question, Beth said slyly, "I think I recognize this shirt. And I definitely remember that shower!" His glance at her neck had also not escaped her notice and she decided to distract him. Slinking up to him, she used her sultriest voice, "Do you remember it, Mick?"

Mick St. John flat out laughed at that. "Beth, I can honestly tell you that it was the most memorable shower of my life!"

He escorted her to the table. "Now, you need to eat if you want to be able to repeat that shower anytime soon." Settling in beside her as she dug into her Kung Pao chicken, he debated on how to bring up the topic of Josef's gathering that night, and decided that the best approach was a direct one.

"Josef has called a meeting for tonight to discuss this whole situation with some key members of the vamp community here in L.A."

"Sounds like vampire business. So, you're unavailable tonight. I get it."

"No. I mean... that's not all there is to it," His tone of voice was enough to cause Beth to stop eating and look at him. "Josef wants me... wants both of us... there tonight."

"He wants me there too? Why?"

"He wouldn't say, but he was very insistent. He's probably just going to go over the whole situation and wants you there to fill in any gaps. I wouldn't worry about it. But," he added, "I would plan on being there. Josef doesn't require command performances very often. It isn't his style."

"OK." Beth picked at her food, "Command performance it is."

She surprised him with her quick capitulation, but she had an agenda of her own. "Listen, Mick, I wanted to talk to you about something else." She laid down her fork to look intently into the ocean-colored eyes next to her. "If we are going to be together – and we are," she hurriedly added emphatically, "then I need to understand what goes on with you."

"What do you mean?"

"You know – what happened to you today. I need to understand vampire physiology better. I know what it means when a human runs a temperature and I know what to do to help. I felt so powerless today because I didn't really understand what was going on with you. I love you and we are going to be spending a lot of time together. At least I hope we are," she added. "So I need to know! About all I really understand is that it isn't good if you're hot. Today made me realize that I don't know nearly enough. And it certainly isn't something I can find on the internet. Not even a TED talk about it..." She smiled up at him.

"There really isn't too much to tell you about." Mick shifted his gaze evasively.

"Come on, Mick. It's all or nothing!"

He raised an eyebrow at the comment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just mean that we have to trust each other – and that includes your telling me about how things work for you," Beth was not about to take no for an answer. Exasperated, she blurted, "Look, I already know that you're a vampire. The hard part's over!"

St. John sighed. He knew this Beth well - and she would not relent. He just hated conversations that, to him, emphasized the gulf between human and vampire. Still...he gave in.

"OK, OK, you're probably right," he conceded reluctantly. "Look, you know vamps are usually cool to the touch – like this." He picked up her hand and held it to his cheek. "We aren't able to regulate our internal temperature very well, so, we have to spend time in freezers – or a really cool place – every day, to bring our core temperature down. Usually, about four or five hours a day will do it, unless we've been doing something that requires us to be in the sun a lot or when we have a lot of strenuous exercise."

"What happens if you don't?" Rather than being repelled by the information, Beth was fascinated.

No surprise that Beth would have a ton of questions...

"Well, it isn't good. You already know that my being exposed to sunlight is dangerous. As soon as it hits me, I start to feel like I have a bad case of the flu – you know, hurt all over, tired, nauseated, dizzy. It feels like tiny knives are cutting into you wherever it touches you when you are exposed to full sunlight. When our core temperature goes up too high, it feels a lot like that - plus, we get really weak and disoriented. That's why I had such a hard time telling you where I was today. Eventually, if a vamp's temp goes up enough, he or she goes into a coma. The only ways to recover are to drink blood or get into a freezer – and preferably both. But, like I said, usually a few hours a day in a freezer will take care of it. The more exposure you've had - or you know you will have - the longer the freezer time. There's also a theory that, because vamps so often do things at a speed that humans can't, that ability may contribute to raising core temperature too."

Beth's quick mind was shifting into high gear now, the questions coming fast. "So, in other words, when you rev your engine, you burn more fuel? How did you find all this out? What did people – I mean vampires – do before there were freezers?"

He shifted in his chair, obviously the only one uncomfortable with the conversation. "Well, that's where the whole coffin mythology came into play. Vamps slept in coffins below ground because being underground was the easiest way to get someplace cool to lower their body temperature in those days. The rest was pure myth – the whole dirt from the homeland thing or having to sleep in a coffin. Coffins were just the most easily obtained container for use underground."

"OK, this is going to sound really weird to say – but that all makes sense!"

"I admit it was kind of amazing to me too how much the myth and the reality of vampires are intertwined."

"So, how did you figure out what you needed to do when you were turned? Did Coraline help you? Or was it Josef?" Beth's questions continued to flow.

"Look, we both need some rest, and I definitely need that freezer time we were just talking about, so why don't we finish this later? And I'm not trying to dodge your questions," he added, seeing her mouth open to lodge a protest. Beth would be asking him questions all day and into the night if he didn't stop her - and he really did need that freezer.

They got up from the table simultaneously, standing so close together that their bodies were only inches apart. Beth quickly closed that gap, standing on tiptoe to kiss the much taller St. John, burying her hands in his hair.

Needing no invitation to return the kiss, he wrapped his muscular arms around her, lifting her easily and depositing her on the edge of the table. He bent over her, hands flat against the table on either side of her to take his weight, as he kissed her deeper and more passionately, intensifying the contact.

Finally breaking the embrace, Beth took her hands out of his hair and placed her palms against his chest. Throatily, she said, "Much as I would like to have dessert right here – you need to be in your freezer."

Still leaning on his arms over her, his chin dropped to his chest. While he would have liked to resist, he had to concede that she was right.

This is one of those times when being a vampire sucks!

"OK, naps it is." He kissed her one last time – a quick peck. He didn't trust himself to stop once he started kissing her. "You can crash on the couch, if that's OK."

"It is, for now." Beth teased him. "Eventually, though, you may have to invest in a real bed." With that, she sauntered over to the couch and plopped down on it, stretching out cat-like as she did so.

"Sweet dreams, Mick."

"You too, Beth." Mick hesitated, as if debating on saying more, then bounded up the stairs toward the lonely cold of his freezer.

---

It seemed just a blink of an eye later that the couple was arriving at Josef Kostan's luxurious Hollywood Hills mansion. In actuality, each had had several hours of 'power napping', Mick in his high–tech freezer, Beth on the soft couch. They'd driven to her apartment for a change of clothes and now were on their way to Josef's. On the drive over, Mick had done his best to prepare her for the night ahead.

"Beth, I want you to stay close to me tonight."

"Oh. Well, okay!" Beth snickered slightly. "Are you going to escort me to the bathroom too?"

"No, Beth. Listen." Mick took his eyes off the road briefly to make eye contact with her, hazel eyes meeting blue, trying to impress upon her the seriousness of what he was saying. "This is important. There are going to be a lot of vamps at Josef's tonight, and very few humans, if any. There is going to be a lot of interest in you and I want to be sure you're safe."

"Interest in me as a human at a vampire function – or interest in me as a meal?" Beth was curious.

Mick hesitated before answering honestly. "Both, unfortunately," he replied gravely. "That's why I want to be able to keep an eye out for you. They haven't seen you before so they won't know you're with me. I plan to make that pretty damn obvious though, so once they see that, it'll be better. Beth, you have to understand though, you will never –," here he paused, then repeated the word for emphasis, "never be safe in a large group of vampires."

"So, what would they do? Think you brought 'take–out' and have a snack?!"

The vampire was serious, and becoming increasingly irritated that Beth, apparently, was not. "Yes. They might." He caught her eye again. "I've said before that I have rules and boundaries – but you have to understand, a lot don't. You've only met the most civilized of our kind so far, but the vamp world is full of all kinds of...," he paused, searching for the right word, "...vermin! If I had my way, you wouldn't be coming to this at all, but Josef insisted."

"Why does he want me there then?" She adjusted the scarf looped stylishly around her neck. The real reason for it was not style, however, but to conceal the evidence of her recent encounter with a certain vampire.

"I'm not sure, but knowing Josef, it involves awkward situations and ugly scenes..." Silence fell inside the Mercedes as the duo maneuvered through the cars lining the spacious drive, pulling up in front of the Kostan mansion.

One of Josef's many employees came forward to park the car among the others. Mick, ever protective of his vintage automobile, held the keys up and away from the reach of the young man. "I want to impress upon you," he said in a deadly quiet voice, leaning threateningly toward the clearly intimidated attendant, "that if there is so much as a scratch on this car when I come out, I will find you and I will rip your heart out."

He dropped the keys into the outstretched hand, leaned into the car to snag the duffel bag filled with the evidence from the Monaghan residence, and strode off with Beth at his side.

Nothing was said for a long moment until Beth piped up with a sidelong glance at Mick, "Gee, I'm sure glad that I'm with a vampire who has rules and boundaries, not some crazy, out–of–control vamp that would kill someone for no apparent reason."

They both burst out laughing, a welcome release to the tension that had built up during the drive, as they entered through the ornate front door.

"Well, well," a familiar voice said. "I'm glad to see that at least some of my guests are in a festive mood."

Josef Kostan approached them across the marble foyer, his dark brown eyes shining in the light from the hand–blown modern glass chandelier overhead, the illumination reflecting off the highly-polished bamboo floor. "I've been waiting for you – most of my guests are already in the study. Beth! You are looking particularly lovely tonight. Is that Chanel?"

As he spoke, Josef smoothly escorted them through the entry hall and the formal living room, to a set of towering six–panel wooden doors. "Oh, and nice scarf, by the way – is it cold or did you have a particular reason for the wardrobe enhancement?" Before either could respond to this teasing, Josef pulled open the doors and motioned them into the room beyond.

The large, glass–walled room with a spectacular view of the city below, was almost full, ambient lighting and flickering candles throwing a soft glow on the occupants. Mick put his arm protectively around her shoulders as they followed Josef into the crowded room.

Beth remembered his comments about 'vermin' in the vamp community and did her best not to make eye contact with anyone. She couldn't help noticing, however, the gleaming white–blue eyes of several of the vamps they passed by, with at least one of them licking his lips as she walked by. She shivered slightly. It appeared that Mick hadn't been exaggerating.

St. John, ever sensitive to her well–being, gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and stopped directly in front of the lip–licking vampire. Looking down from his 6-foot, 2-inch vantage point at the much smaller vamp, he growled, "See something you like?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do! Thanks!" Eagerly licking his lips again, the vampire bared his fangs as he reached out toward Beth, who instinctively shrank away. Mick almost casually stepped in between them and grabbed the offending vamp's shirt, fangs bared, his eyes suddenly the icy blue–tinged white of an angry vampire, his fangs. With a snarl that was frightening to Beth, he lifted the smaller man off his feet effortlessly. Pulling the now terrified vampire's face to within inches of his own, he growled, "If you ever so much as look at her again, I'll stake you and then pull your head off with my bare hands." With a roar, he flicked his hand and sent the offending vampire sailing across the room, where he landed on a sleek chair, snapping off a leg and overturning it. Sprawling on the floor, ignominiously, he glared at the private investigator, his eyes full of loathing.

Beth noticed that the room had suddenly gone quiet, all eyes upon them. St. John looked slowly around the room, his white–hot glare taking in the other vampires who had been watching the scene with interest, many of them also baring fangs.

Raising his voice, he proclaimed, "That goes for anyone in this room! If you so much as touch her, I will take you out!"

"So! Thanks for the warm–up, Mick. Let's get this show started!" Josef Kostan could always be counted on to make the most of an awkward situation. Striding over to stand in front of the wall of windows, Josef motioned Mick and Beth to a position near him and began.

"You are probably all aware by now of the execution of Emma and Jackson Monaghan. What you may not be aware of, is why this was done." Pausing to make sure he had everyone's attention, he continued. "Emma Monaghan killed a human." There was a murmur around the room, as vampires wondered out loud about the execution of a member of their community over killing a human – a commonplace occurrence for these creatures.

"That was not," Josef emphasized, "why she was executed. She was executed for treason because she threatened to expose the entire vampire community if we did not get her out of jail immediately – and she had the names to do it." Now, the room exploded with the outrage of vampires, men and women alike. Josef raised his hands for silence, waiting for the uproar to die down.

"Mick St. John orchestrated an operation that freed Emma and kept her from exposing all of us. Emma did not have to threaten us to be rescued. I want to make that clear to everyone here. No one is at risk for killing a human – with certain notable exceptions." He nodded his head toward Beth in acknowledgement of her presence. "But if that kill puts the community in jeopardy, all bets are off. If you want to put yourself at risk, that's your business – as long as it doesn't threaten to expose the rest of us." After a short pause, he added in a threatening tone, "That will not be tolerated!"

Beth felt her mouth drop open as Josef stood in command of the room. This was a side of Josef Kostan she had never before seen – nor even imagined. She noted uneasily that his eyes were also now the threatening white–blue of a vampire, his fangs showing under his slightly curled lip. She glanced at Mick, who seemed uneasy, shifting from foot to foot. Catching her eye, he shrugged slightly as if to say, "Who knew?"

Kostan had the complete attention of every vampire in the room now. He looked around slowly, his icy stare meeting the gaze of many in the room, holding each contact until the vampire dropped his or her eyes. "You all know it is not my style to meddle in your affairs or dictate how you live. We haven't had a meeting like this for several years. But we are not going to do this – we will not destroy this community from within. It isn't going to go down like that." He snarled, showing his fangs, to make his point.

"Now," he continued in a calmer voice, "I also want to make clear that Jackson Monaghan was not executed for the crimes of his wife. He chose to die with her rather than live without her. That was his right. But had we found that he had been involved in her treason, he would not have had that choice. I want everyone in this room to understand and learn from this situation. Your destiny is your own – unless it impacts the rest of the community – and then I step in." After a moment's pause, he added in a lighter tone, "I hate stepping in. Please don't make me step in." There were a few chuckles in the room, immediately improving the atmosphere.

"There's one last thing I want to address. I mentioned Mick St. John's role in Emma's rescue – which ultimately saved all of us from exposure. You all owe him a vote of thanks. All of you!" he emphasized, looking directly at the surly vampire that Mick had hurled across the room earlier. "I also want to thank Logan Griffen and Ryder England for their help in deflecting the investigation by local authorities." It wasn't until Josef mentioned him that Beth noticed Logan in the room crowded with vampires. Catching his eye, she mouthed 'thanks' to him for his help in locating Mick. Logan smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

"And one more person." Josef paused to make eye contact with Beth. "I'm sure you all noticed that we have a human among us. If you didn't see her when you came in, I know Mick tried to bring it to your attention with his little – umm – workout earlier. Thanks, Mick." Josef turned toward his friend and mock–bowed. "Always the life of the party!"

Kostan grew serious again. "Beth Turner has been a friend to Mick – and to me – for some time now. Today, she was a friend to the entire vampire community. She risked her job – and possibly her freedom – to help us keep the lid on this situation. Everyone in this room has been helped by her today. I want to make it clear that not only do you owe her your thanks, you also owe her your protection. I will personally hold anyone accountable that does not act accordingly. Have I made myself clear?" He stopped, eyes glowing, and growled threateningly again, baring his fangs. The message was unmistakable – mess with Beth Turner at your peril.

Mick smiled inwardly. So that was why Josef had been so insistent on Beth being present for the meeting. He was marking her with his protection for all to see. No one in that room would dare to cross him and try to harm Beth. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he said, "Remember what I said about your never being safe in a room full of vampires? This room is now the exception." Later, he would make sure she understood what an unusual step this was for Josef.

That vampire, fangs now retracted and his eyes once again a dark, velvety brown, said, "OK, I've said what I called you here to say. Have a drink if you like ..." Here he stopped to gesture at a broad table set up with bottles and carafes of various types of blood. "...and then get the hell out of here. The night is still young."

Stepping away from the fireplace, he motioned to Mick and Beth to follow him as he quickly left the room. Mick noticed that The Cleaner and her assistants also followed him out. Reaching down, he took Beth's hand and held it as they walked out.

The group trailed Kostan as he walked back through the foyer and entered through another set of imposing double doors into what appeared to be a large music room. Unlike the rest of his ultra–modern home, this room had an 1800s ambiance, with a highly polished old baby grand piano, an antique harpsichord, and a full–size harp all positioned on an exquisite Persian rug. At one end of the room, a small fire simmered in a large fireplace embellished with an ornate carved mantel, also obviously old.

Beth took it all in as Josef paused next to her. Catching his eye, she gestured around her. "This is unexpected, Josef."

He looked around the room, smiling crookedly. "An homage to my past. What can I say, I'm a romantic." Beth had to laugh.

Josef waved toward the seating arranged in front of the fireplace. "Everybody take a seat." An assistant appeared to offer drinks – blood for the vampires, brandy for Beth. She accepted the drink gratefully. This had already been a surreal evening, and it was clearly not over yet.

She sat down on the couch, close to Mick, not yet convinced that all the vampires in the room were her friends. This was reinforced by the stare she encountered from one of the younger-looking Cleaners. While not the icy vampire's stare, there was clearly malice in those eyes.

What Beth didn't know was that this particular Cleaner had long had a 'thing' for Mick St. John and had encouraged him to call her on numerous occasions – and not just for clean–up. Her nostrils flared as she took in the scent of the private investigator on the human female, her eyes glinting. The idea that he would choose this weak, insignificant human over her did not sit well. The Cleaner sighed. Well there's nothing I can do about it – right now. Reluctantly, the vampire turned her attention to their host.

Mick, ever attentive to anything involving Beth, noticed the interplay and slipped his arm around her, giving the woman a threatening glare and a quick show of fang as he did so.

Josef strolled up to the fireplace, facing it for a moment before turning around to face the small group, ignoring the interplay between his friend and the female vamp. To Beth's shock, he was again in full–on vampire mode, face pale, fangs fully extended, and eyes glowing with ice–blue irises as he stared at The Head Cleaner. The transition was terrifying in its abruptness, even though she knew that Josef's wrath would not be directed at her. Talk about a blood–sucking hedge–fund trader... The inane thought crossed her mind, unbidden.

"What I want to know…" Kostan's tone was low and threatening as he started again. "What I want to know is how – when your whole job is to 'clean up' unfortunate situations – how you could miss something like this!" He gestured down to the now open duffel at his feet. The offending documents filled the large bag, a clear statement of the magnitude of what had been left behind.

Beth wondered briefly how Mick had accomplished the sleight–of–hand to get the bag in this room without her noticing it. Her attention, though, quickly shifted back to Josef, who was now pulling out frame after polished frame, each surrounding a marriage certificate with a different set of names on it – but all representing Emma and Jackson Monaghan.

"This... and this... and this..." Josef continued to pull out the damning evidence of a cleaning job, botched.

"This is completely inexcusable. They were out in plain sight – hanging all over a wall! You need to explain how you could be so careless – because I really don't see how." He folded his arms and waited, glaring menacingly at The Cleaner.

Frowning, she began to speak, but Kostan raised his hand to stop her. "Before you begin, you need to think very carefully about what you are going to say." She paused uneasily, seeming to rearrange her thinking, then started again. "I'm sorry. You are right; we made a mistake that could have been very costly to the vampire community. As The Head Cleaner, I am responsible for the actions of the entire team."

Josef nodded. "That was the right thing to say. I have no patience – or tolerance – for excuses on this. You were in the wrong. Your whole reason for existence is to keep this sort of thing out of the realm of humans. If I can't count on you to do that job well... then there is no need for you. Do I make myself clear?"

Understanding the thinly–veiled threat, The Head Cleaner swallowed hard, and nodded, looking down to avoid Josef's stare. She would never know how close she came to losing her life that evening, that Kostan had already decided he would kill her then and there if she started in with a litany of excuses. There was no margin for error here.

"You all also owe Beth Turner a thank you for saving your asses on this." The vampire stared at each of the three Cleaners in turn as they sat, stone–faced, on the long couch flanking the fireplace. Shifting uneasily, The Cleaner looked up at Beth, who had been wishing she were invisible through the whole exchange with Josef. "Thank you…Beth. It was inexcusable of us and I appreciate your help."

"Alright. Now, I want you all out of my sight." Josef finished, turning away from the intimidated women, who immediately got up and fled the room, moving with such speed that they were a blur to Beth.

"Not you two," he said, as both Mick and Beth started to get up.

Moving to the couch recently vacated by the Cleaners, he sat down heavily and sighed. Beth was relieved to see that the vampire Josef had retreated, leaving in his wake, the auburn-haired, boyish financial wizard she was more comfortable with.

"I'm glad that's over. I hate getting medieval on their asses! So, tell me, Beth - how did you enjoy your first vampire get–together?" he asked teasingly.

"It was certainly… it was...well, it was scary as hell, Josef, to be honest," Beth admitted, as Mick gave her a reassuring squeeze.

Josef laughed out loud. "To tell you the truth, if you'd had any other reaction, I would have been really worried that my friend here," nodding his head in Mick's direction, "had hooked up with some loony psycho chick who had a death wish. I'm glad to see that's not you."

He leaned forward in his seat, rolling his glass between his hands. "Beth, in all seriousness, you did good. You both did."

Glancing at Mick, he said, only half–joking, "Well, except for that chair you broke in there, my friend. You do know that was an original Charles Eames, right? One of the first ones made. I bought it from him directly in 1956; the only other one I know of is on display at the MoMa. Priceless. Nice job."

The elder vampire considered his next words carefully. "Look, I know this hasn't been an easy couple of days – and, I admit, my genetic predisposition toward paranoia doesn't make matters any easier. I want you to know though, Beth, I meant everything I said tonight. Others may not be your biggest fans, but for what it's worth, I'm glad to count you as a friend." This last was said with his dark eyes locked on hers, telegraphing the sincerity of his words.

"Now, I think you two need to get out of here too... If my senses were correct today – and they always are – then you have some personal business to conduct – and I think I could use a little recreation too." With that, Josef Kostan dismissed them; as they rose and headed for the door, Beth heard him say, "Simone! Hey, it's me. You up for somethin' tonight?"

Mick and Beth needed no further invitation, practically running for his car. The cowed attendant who had parked the car made a point of giving the keys back to Mick personally. "I made sure no one got near this car, Mr. St. John." Mick nodded, feeling a little embarrassed about his extreme behavior earlier in the evening, and pressed a large tip into the attendant's hand. Amused, Beth watched the interaction, but said nothing.

The drive back to Mick's penthouse was quiet, and mercifully brief because of the late hour, as they reflected on the eventful day and evening. Mick glanced at Beth frequently, looking for some sign that she wasn't completely overwhelmed by the experience she had gone through tonight at Josef's.

Josef sure knows how to stage things. I hope tonight wasn't too much for Beth – that was a lot to... get.

Pulling into the garage, they made their way to the penthouse apartment, still quiet. Closing the reinforced door behind them, Mick pulled Beth into his arms as soon as they were inside the apartment.

He kissed her – a long, deep, hard kiss that tried to convey his feelings for her. Running his fingers through her hair, he pulled away slightly to give her a lecherous up–and–down look. "Is that Chanel you're wearing?" he teased, echoing Josef's label–obsessed words. "Or, is this Chanel?" he asked, pulling her shirt away from her body slightly to peak inside at her bra.

Beth laughed for the first time in the long, admittedly terrifying evening. "Yeah, because I can afford Chanel on my salary…" Giving him a brief peck, she broke away. "It was certainly an...," she paused, searching for a word that would adequately describe the night's events, then gave up and finished, "...experience." After a long pause, she put her hand on his chest. Evading his eyes, she said, "You know, it has been a very long, very eventful day – to cap off a week full of eventful. I think I need to go home tonight and get a good night's sleep."

Mick, stunned, took her hand and pulled her over to the couch. "Beth, sit down. Talk to me."

"I'm fine, Mick. Really I am. It's just that..." She paused, then her words tumbled out, spilling over each other in a rush, as if she were trying to drown his objections with logic. "It's just that, I need a change of clothes... and I have to check the mail... and I'd like to be in a bed and not feel like I'm crashing here... and, we both need rest..." Her words trailed off as she looked up into his eyes and saw the hurt there.

Beth, please don't leave me. I know you're afraid and overwhelmed. Just don't leave me. Grabbing both her hands, he blurted, "Beth, stop. We have to talk about this. Those are all just excuses. Be honest with yourself – and with me. Please. I know tonight was scary – seeing all those vamps in the room, looking at you like that. The Cleaners... The scene with Josef..."

"And you." Beth's voice was a whisper and she avoided his gaze.

"Me?" Mick was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"Seeing you like that, Mick." She looked down at their hands, the fingers intertwined. "I mean, I know you're a vampire and you have abilities that humans don't have, but this was different. Whenever I've seen you vamp before – is that even the right word – it was because of some really bad guy. Totally justified. When you attacked that man, one of your own, in Josef's house…it was... frightening."

She had trouble getting the last word out, as if she were ashamed to utter it. Looking up, she saw his eyes, those beautiful, soulful eyes, fill with tears as the words cut straight into his heart.

He dropped his own gaze now. "He was a bad guy, Beth. I- I attacked a vampire, not a man. A vampire who was prepared to feed on you in front of me. It was justified, believe me! Look, I'm sure it was a shock to see that many vampires in one room - I know it had to be scary. I told you I was a monster, but you've never wanted to believe it. I guess now you've seen it. If you can't live with that, I'll... I'll understand. But, I need you. I ‑" He sat there, feeling like all of the air had gone out of the universe. I wish I could wipe away her fears, but I can't. And how could I live without her? I can't go back and erase what we've become to each other...

Seeing his devastation, Beth was immediately ashamed of her reaction. She leaned over to lay her hand on his cheek. "You are more a man than anyone I've ever met – a good, decent man, trying to help people, and make a life for himself in spite of more obstacles than most of us could ever dream of." She waited for him to raise his eyes to hers. "Mick, I don't see a monster when I look in your eyes – I never have. So, I guess if you can sleep in a freezer, I can put up with a couch."

Mick felt as if he had just stepped out into the sun with those words – a welcoming sun that warmed, rather than harmed, him. He hugged her tightly to him.

"I will never hurt you. I promise." he whispered. "And I won't let anyone else harm you – ever." He rubbed at his face, regaining his composure. "I tell you what. Can you 'couch surf' for just one more night? Tomorrow is Saturday, we can shop for a bed – it's about time I got one. We'll make a day of it, just you and me. No bodies, no crises...we'll just do boring couples' stuff – furniture shopping, hanging out, maybe a movie, eating – well, you eating. Whatever you want."

"That," Beth smiled, "sounds like heaven. And, speaking of heaven..." She shifted on the couch and straddled him, sliding into his lap facing him. She was rewarded by his moans, which turned quickly into deep, intense growls.

Leaning back, she unbuttoned his dress shirt, sliding her hands inside it to feel his cool, hard chest, then moving them further down as he leaned back against the cushions, surrendering to the sensations she was causing. Beth got up on her knees to lean over him, kissing him, each kiss longer, harder, than the one before. Moving to nuzzle his ear, she whispered, "Of course...this is just to help us relax... help us sleep... you understand..." She caught his earlobe in her teeth and that was it for Mick St. John.

Grabbing her, he pulled her down to lie stretched out on the soft couch with him, both of them undressing frantically.

Yeah, about not having another night like last night... I didn't really mean it...

---

Friday night typically marked the start of the weekend. For most people, that came around 4:00 PM or so. It was now well after eight in the evening, and Talbot was just wrapping up this god–forsaken day. He gave his official report to the District Attorney one last review before filing it, the slam of the desk drawer serving to mark the day's end. It was a credit to his abilities that, somehow, three sheets of paper managed to wrap up the last 24 hours; the facts themselves were relatively simple.

Murder suspect Emma Monaghan had escaped while in transit to the women's jail due to a crash that somehow managed to spring open the transport's bolted steel doors. The subsequent manhunt and searches of the Monaghan residence yielded nothing, until the pop from a flight database revealed information that Ms. Monaghan, along with her husband Jackson, had fled the United States for Chile. Soon after, banking information revealed charges made within, and several miles outside of, Santiago, with expert opinion deducing that their movements would be towards Los Angeles, Chile. A massive earthquake in the region would make tracking and extraction all but impossible. With the chaos, devastation and death toll that were the reality of the aftermath of such a powerful earthquake, especially in a poorer country, it was impossible to know if they would ever be found – alive or dead.

The ADA took a moment to stretch and relax in his chair, locking his hands behind his head. At least some good came from this situation. Instead of the anticipated reprimand, or even feared firing, the DA had instead given him high marks on his handling of this crisis, especially considering that he was still very new to the department.

Though the suspect was still at large, the Monaghan case was now technically a Federal issue, thanks to their international flight. His boss' conclusion was to let the Feds have it out with the Chileans – who, with the distraction of the earthquake aftermath, now had their own emergency. Realistically, they would probably not even consider the matter seriously for some time.

Talbot had absolutely no problem with the logic. Though this was a murder case, there was only one civilian victim involved. The equation was cold and hard, but necessary. One person's demise, albeit a soon–to–be NBA star of some renown, did not warrant eclipsing cases involving major drug rings, gang activity, fraud and other regularly scheduled mayhem that were hallmarks of the megalopolis. The policeman being killed in the accident was an unfortunate byproduct of the normal hazards of the occupation, but, as far as he could tell, it was just that – an accident. The Los Angeles County Office of the District Attorney did not have the staff or resources for the Monaghan case at this point, and the matter, though officially "ongoing", was internally classified as "back–burnered," code speak for "in the fridge you go!"

All in all, Talbot should have been extremely pleased with how everything turned out. For him, however, that was the problem. His brow furrowed deeply as he contemplated the enormity of lucky coincidences that had given him this overall good outcome – and he was not one who believed in luck.

Why had the data popped with past flight information? Why didn't he get notification when they checked in? Even allowing for the slight misspelling of their surname on the manifest – "Monahan" instead of "Monaghan" – given the first names were intact, that should have still registered... shouldn't it? Ben sat up suddenly in his chair. Minor quibble with last names aside, he could not abide unanswered questions. As a former law school buddy was known to say, "Every question has an answer – it's only a matter of time until you find it."

The young ADA shook his head sadly at the memory of his late predecessor. Joshua Lindsey was an all–around great guy, and a good friend, a guy who had everything going for him, including his impending engagement with Beth Turner – and it all went sideways when she met a certain private investigator. How had Josh put it when he spoke with him? "I told Beth that, since she met that guy, screwed up was starting to seem normal. He's trouble, Ben."

His face tightened with anger. It seemed that one particular private investigator specialized in causing chaos for assistant district attorneys. Almost reflexively, Talbot reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the now–familiar Mick St. John case file. Already stuffed with information when he'd inherited it, Ben was adding to the pile. At least this time, there had been no sign of St. John at the scene, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the P.I. was still tied to all this somehow.

Acting on an urge, Ben reached across to the pile of unmarked files, and took out the mysterious list of names, once again examining it carefully. That billionaire financier Josef Kostan and St. John were both on it. Even before this latest Chilean twist, could it be a coincidence that Emma and Jackson Monaghan were on it too– and had already been crossed out? They had to all be related – there was no other possible conclusion. How? Why? What did it mean...? So many unanswered questions. St. John seemed to be involved in all of them... he had to be the key to everything...

Ben stopped his mental gymnastics, bringing his fingers up to massage the bridge of his nose. Your tinfoil hat is too tight, Talbot. Lindsey used to joke about his tendency to smell a cover–up from a thousand paces. Maybe the lack of sleep, combined with the stress of this case, had gotten to him.

But that same Josh Lindsey had started the file on St. John, and that man had not been given to wild imaginings. And yet he's dead – and St. John was there. And now he's with Beth…

Talbot just could not ignore the niggling feeling that the P.I. was somehow tied to this... as he also seemed to be with several prior cases. The ADA allowed himself a particularly deep sigh as he glanced at his watch. He had promised himself that he would leave before the clock actually struck nine.

First, though, he wanted to have one last conversation with the person who would hear him out and not consider his musings the delusions of an over–stressed public servant who desperately needed to eat, sleep, and get laid – not necessarily in that order.

Scrolling through contacts list, he touched the desired selection and waited for a response.

"Carl? Hey, this is Ben. I hope I'm not disturbing you on a Friday night." Then came the laughter. "Yeah, I know... city never sleeps. Listen, I got something I want to discuss with you. Do you have time to meet next week? No, not urgent, just... something that's been bothering me about this whole case," Talbot added, opening Mick's file yet again, rifling through the pages. "And a few other things..."

Benjamin Talbot trained his eyes on the pictures the file contained. Pictures of an accident victim who should have been dead, or at least waiting for an ambulance, not jumping up and walking away. Yes, some other things indeed...

End Song: "Truth" by Seether