The insistent knocking on the door jolted me awake. "Sergeant Kane!" a voice called out, unfamiliar and urgent.

Noticing Rose's hesitation at the door, I quickly got up, signaling her to wait, and slipped into the crisp uniform she'd thoughtfully washed and dried.

The knocking continued, punctuated by the stranger's calls. I remained silent, my curiosity piqued.

As I approached the door, Rose retreated into the bedroom, leaving me to face the unexpected visitors.

I opened the door to find a plumber and an electrician. Since when did Pinewood County Police send First Realm warriors to fix household problems for their officers?

"How can I help you?" I inquired, my gaze sweeping over them, noting the tension in their posture.

"Sergeant Kane?" the plumber spoke, his voice carefully measured. "We have important matters to discuss. Please come with us."

He stepped back, a subtle signal that triggered a swift response. The electrician lunged forward, his palms blurring into a flurry of motion, fingers like steel hooks aiming for my shoulders.

The attack was powerful, his intent clear: to overpower me and drag me away.

With a guttural cry, he slammed his palms into my shoulders, his fingers digging deep, his entire body straining to force me to the ground.

But I stood firm, my feet rooted to the spot. His strength, impressive as it was, felt like a drop of water falling into an ocean, barely causing a ripple in my body.

In a flash, I retaliated, my leg a piston driving into his abdomen. The electrician let out a strangled cry, his body arcing backward, tumbling through the air before crashing into a sturdy pillar across the street.

The impact reverberated, the entire building shuddering from the force. The electrician slumped against the pillar, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his face contorted in pain.

The scene unfolded before a stunned audience. The plumber's face paled, and the few passersby on the street stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide with disbelief.

The electrician, known for his formidable strength, had been effortlessly dispatched. A wave of unease rippled through the onlookers.

The electrician's face burned with shame. He took a hesitant step back, his bravado replaced by a grudging respect.

With a shaky hand, the electrician reached for his waist, his fingers fumbling for his badge.

What a fiasco. H.A.R.M. had come to this backwater county for a simple arrest, and they had to reveal their identities. It was a major humiliation.

Just then, a hand, firm and cold, clamped down on his arm, halting his movement.

The electrician turned, and saw Ethan Atzmon somehow materialized beside him. Atzmon's brow was furrowed, his nostrils flared slightly, as if he had caught a whiff of something unsettling.

"Is there... someone dead in there?" Atzmon's voice was low and grave, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that sent a shiver down the electrician's spine.

The atmosphere crackled with tension. The others, their faces mirroring Atzmon's grim realization, exchanged uneasy glances.

They had rushed to Pinewood County, not for a routine inspection. but to investigate the disappearance of Colonel Hightower. All the clues pointed to the young man standing before them, an enigmatic figure shrouded in suspicion.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

And now, the unmistakable scent of blood hung heavy in the air, a chilling proof of a life violently extinguished. The kind of blood that could make the seasoned Ethan Atzmon wary was definitely not from livestock.

The group closed in, their bodies tense, their eyes locked on me.

I surveyed the gathering crowd, my gaze lingering on Atzmon's conspicuous black uniform. I had thought they were just a bunch of rats, but it turned out to be the old cat coming to my door.

These people came a lot earlier than expected. And I was no match for the combined might of them all.

I let go of the hilt of my sword and replied calmly, "Sir, it's the body of a vampire.”

The tension dissipated as I released the sword. The H.A.R.M. agents, their initial apprehension replaced by a collective sigh of relief, exchanged puzzled glances. The sense of embarrassment was palpable. They were the elite, the hunters of the night, yet they had been unnerved by a mere police officer. If word got out, people would laugh at them.

"Why would there be a vampire in your home?" Atzmon's voice cut through the silence, his tone sharp and accusatory.

I met his gaze, a flicker of annoyance crossing my face. The interrogation was unexpected, but I understood their suspicion. These were men and women who lived on the edge, their lives a constant battle against the darkness. Gentleness was a luxury they couldn't afford.

I stepped aside, a silent invitation for them to enter and see for themselves.

Atzmon's frown deepened, his lips parting to unleash a torrent of questions. But before he could speak, the electrician, his face still pale from the earlier encounter, bumped his shoulder, a silent plea for restraint.

Atzmon looked up, his displeasure momentarily forgotten. His eyes widened in shock, mirroring the expressions of his companions.

Emerging from the bedroom, Rose Hightower, a vision of unexpected beauty, held a lamb shank in her hand. The oversized shirt she wore, clearly borrowed from me, hung loosely on her frame, accentuating her curves.

She blinked, her eyes filled with surprise and a hint of amusement. "Why are you all here?" she asked, her voice light and melodious, a stark contrast to the tension that gripped the room.

Ethan Atzmon's jaw worked silently, questions burning in his eyes, but he held his tongue. With a stiff bow, he addressed the woman, his voice laced with newfound respect. "I am Ethan Atzmon, subordinate of H.A.R.M. Greetings, Colonel Hightower!"

The others followed suit, their earlier arrogance replaced by a deferential silence. The electrician, his face still flushed from his earlier defeat, stammered an explanation, his eyes darting between Rose and me. "Seattle hasn't received a message from you for a month, Colonel. We were sent to ensure your safety."

"You've gone to so much trouble," Rose replied with a warm smile, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "I'm fine."

"We'll escort you back to Seattle immediately, Colonel. The admiral is eager to have you accompany him to the capital," Atzmon urged, his concern palpable.

"If you don't mind," Rose said, a hint of disappointment and helplessness coloring her cheeks, "I'd like to go home first. And... could you wait until I finish my dinner? I just started cooking some mutton soup."

The tension in the room eased. A couple H.A.R.M. agents went to examine the bloody flesh on the floor, and swiftly cleaned it up. The other agents exchanged relieved smiles. The renowned Vampire Hunter was, as rumored, approachable and kind.

But their smiles soon faded as they watched Rose bustle about the kitchen and I stood silently, hands clasped behind my back. An awkward silence descended, broken only by the clinking of bowls and the simmering of the soup.

Finally, the meal was ready. I sat at the table, acutely aware of the dozen pairs of eyes watching my every move. The weight of their scrutiny made the simple act of eating feel like an ordeal.

Rose's fork hovered over her plate, the once-tempting mutton now a lifeless lump. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mirth, were downcast, a veil of sadness clouding her features. She glanced at me, a flicker of longing and regret crossing her face before she quickly averted her gaze.

Mirroring her dejection, I pushed the food around my plate. My jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in my cheek, betraying the turmoil beneath my stoic facade. I reached out, my hand hovering hesitantly over Rose's, a silent plea for comfort.

Our fingers brushed, a fleeting connection amidst the watchful eyes. A silent apology, a shared ache of parting, passed between us in that touch. The weight of our unspoken words thickened the silence, a poignant counterpoint to the forced cheer of our companions.

With a sigh, Rose put down her bowl. "Take care of yourself," she said softly, her eyes meeting mine.

"You too," I replied, my voice gruff.

I watched as Rose joined the H.A.R.M. agents, their figures fading into the night. The room felt empty and cold.

After a long moment, I shook my head and let out a humorless laugh. In the short time Rose had shared my home, she had managed to spoil me with her cooking, her smile and her very presence. Now, the silence was deafening.

I finished the meal, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. I mechanically cleaned the dishes, hung my damp coat to dry, and finally collapsed onto the bed, summoning the familiar panel as a distraction from the turmoil within.