I flattened myself into the shadows of the stairwell a level below them. I'd come close enough to hear voices, and ones very familiar to my new memories at that. I cleared my throat and closed my eyes, fixing the sound of my last victim's voice in my head. "Mike!" I called, letting my voice fray almost to breaking. "Please, Mike, you've gotta help me, man!"

I heard them stop on the stairs. "John, what the hell are you doing here?" Mike called down.

"That chick I was following messed me up," I moaned. "I barely got away. Please, you gotta help me. There's so much blood...."

"If we don't get that girl, Luke is going to rip our heads off," one said seriously. "Mike, go see what that idiot did to himself. We'll grab her."

I grinned fiercely, stepping into the blind spot of the corner where the stairs turned. One biting the bait would likely get me all of them. I just had to be quick if I was going to prevent them from breaking into Olivia's home.

Mike came down the stairs in a rush, moving right past me. "John, where are—?"

I caught him in a sleeper hold. "John's dead," I whispered in my own voice as he tried to struggle. I killed him with a sudden twist and dropped the body to make an intentionally loud thud.

I heard someone force open a door, breaking the lock with a sledgehammer. I sprinted up the stairs, taking out the second guy at the knees and slamming him against the wall so hard I broke his ribs inward. He dropped his gun, so I grabbed it and spun towards the sound of a struggle.

The would-be kidnapper managed to grab an evading Olivia by the arm, but she snagged a thick ceramic vase from beside the door and swung it at him with enough force to concuss the bastard. He dropped, cursing a blue streak. I stomped down on his ankle to be sure he wouldn't get up, breaking bone with a sickening crack.

Wide amber eyes focused on the gun in my hand first, then my face. "Malle?" The terror in her eyes as she looked down at the bodies was of a deep seated fear coming true.

I felt a stab of sympathy. After all, the same people had rudely interfered in my own moment of weakness as well. "This place is not safe. More may come soon."

A normal woman might have said she wanted to call the police. Instead, Olivia swallowed hard, weighing my sincerity. "How do I know I can trust you, Malle?"

I offered her a faint smile and then turned the gun in my hand, offering her the weapon. "Will this help?" It was a mostly empty gesture, as a shot from it wouldn't kill me, but she would be able to defend herself from anything else.

"Yeah," she said, something hard and empty flashing across her face. She gripped the gun tightly and then pointed it down at the one she'd already struck in the head. She sucked in a deep breath and then squeezed the trigger. The unsilenced gunshot rang through the halls, leaving the man dead from a shot through the heart. The reality of what she'd just done hit her instantly, tears welling, but she moved towards the other man with the gun still in hand.

I grabbed her wrist. "Olivia, you do not need to do that."

"I'm not going back!"

"Whatever you wish, but he is already dead." I could tell that his heart had stopped, probably from the crushing blow to his ribs.

She looked sick, but nodded. "Give me a minute to grab what I need." She vanished back into her apartment and reappeared almost exactly sixty seconds later with a packed gym bag slung over her shoulder and a coat in her hand. "Let's go."

I led the way, stepping over the body of their accomplice that was on the lower stairs.

"Who the hell are you?" Olivia asked quietly, staring down at my handiwork for a moment.

I flashed her my faint smile. "I will answer that question when danger is less immediate. Does that sound fair to you?"

She nodded and followed me out f the building. We hugged the shadows as I led the way towards the car. "Who are those guys?" she hissed, looking at me.

"Old friends of mine. They were just going to drop me off so I could visit you and take Charles back to a hotel so he could sleep, but no plan survives contact with the universe."

Dieter got out of the car when he spotted us, spitting something into a bush. "You know how to use that thing, Miss van Dijk?" he asked as Olivia followed me over with the gun still clutched in her hand.

"Yeah," she said, bristling under his scrutiny.

He opened the door behind the driver for me, then walked around and opened the door behind the passenger's seat for her. "Hey, C-Man, she says she knows how to use it."

Olivia was probably expecting derision, but instead Charlie turned and gave her a nod. "Good to hear it, miss. Just do me a favor and please don't shoot me. I like to think Malle would be real put out if I bit a bullet."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I would be crushed," I assured him as Dieter pulled us out onto the street.

Olivia held the gun tightly with it pointed at the floor between her feet, finger off the trigger. "Who are you people?"

Dieter sighed. "Well, you know Malle. Charlie is the Q to her James Bond, which I would normally say makes me the plucky female sidekick, but apparently that job is also taken." He sighed when he caught her expression in the rearview. "We're very bad people who do very bad things to other bad people....and sometimes good people."

"Very reassuring," Charles said sarcastically.

"Look, I just think it's important to set realistic expectations in a new relationship," Dieter said irritably. He glanced in the rearview again. "I'm Dieter, by the way."

"I recognize you from the hotel. Where are we going?"

"We're renting a place for a couple nights. Somewhere safe and quiet. At least, it'd better be," Dieter muttered.

"They will have to regroup and reconsider their approach. Their employer is not a fool."

Dieter laughed at that. "He picked a fight with you, Malle. That's pretty stupid."

"You don't know who you're talking about," Olivia muttered.

"Probably better fill us in, then," Charles said reasonably before Dieter could object, settling into his seat a little more comfortably.

"Luke Byron. He's a lunatic."

"How do you know him?" Charlie asked, no doubt to check her story against the facts that he had researched.

The jazz singer hesitated. "He's my ex, and...well, it's complicated. He wanted me to be something I couldn't and he was getting so crazy that I just...I had to get out before he killed me."

"Crazy, huh?" Dieter murmured. "What makes you say that?"

"He had all these people around all the time. The weird kind, like real fanatics who just drank up everything he said. And he...at the end, he wouldn't even call me by my name."

"What'd he call you?" Charlie asked.

Olivia sighed. "He used to call me 'Sirje' and kept insisting that I was some sort of reincarnation of someone. Crazy shit, like out of his books. They're all vampires and past lives and all kinds of creepy stuff."

Dieter slammed on the brakes when he realized we were about to run a red light. He looked over his shoulder, back at my still form. "You okay, Malle?"

I realized that he had made an excuse to check on me without revealing too much. "Fine," I said, inhaling deeply. There was no trace of Sirje in Olivia's smell, no hint of aged power or the cold of undeath. I wasn't certain I believed in past lives, but....

Was that why I had found Olivia so compelling? Because some piece of my own maker flowed through her veins? Was I any different than Luke Byron, then?

"Sounds rough," Charles said. "Sorry, for what it's worth."

Olivia sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, fingers covering her tattoo. "It wasn't always that way. He started out so sweet, but they always do."

"Yeah," Dieter said. He kept his eyes on the road, but I knew he wanted to look back at me again. "You sure you're okay, sweetheart?"

My thoughts churned like the North Sea during a storm. "Fine."

Olivia went red and tried to shrink down in her seat. "I didn't realize...."

Charles chuckled. "They're not a couple, kid. Dieter's just a fussy mother hen sometimes."

"Yeah, well, Malle can't fuss over herself. Or won't, anyway," Dieter muttered. "Until I am relieved of duty by someone better at it or death, I'm gonna fuss."

"What he means is 'until death'," Charles stage whispered to Olivia, who slowly relaxed.

"Charlie Boy, has anyone ever told you to shut your goddamned mouth?"

Charles chuckled. "You want to take a left up there."

"You're not my real dad!" Dieter snapped even as he signaled to take the left where our forger had indicated. His shoulders relaxed when I laughed.

The rental was a decent little condo near the beach, with north-facing windows. It wouldn't be nearly as comfortable as the Internationale, but I could feel dawn coming on and just wanted to sleep without interruption. Dieter pulled up into the on-the-street parking. He got the car door for me while Charlie and Olivia got out and headed for the front steps, trapping my hand on the door.

"Malle, look at me," Dieter said firmly.

When I complied, I could see his exhaustion and determination in open war. It reminded me that his sleep had been interrupted just like mine. "What is wrong?"

"Whatever this Luke asshole said to her, let's agree that she's not Sirje unless proven otherwise. For your sake. I don't want you getting hurt, you know? If you tell yourself she is and she turns out not to be."

I straightened his tie. "Agreed." I gave him a small but heartfelt smile. "What would I do without you, Dieter?"

He sighed. "Find a sexy lounge singer and settle down? You could pour Glenlivet Winchester on my grave every decade in memoriam or something, I don't know."

"I have a restless heart, Dieter."

"It just hasn't found its new place yet. There's a difference," he said firmly. "Now come on, before I pass out and you crispify. I'm sure you want a shower before bed."

I trailed after him into the house, not certain what to make of that commentary. I tried to put everything out of my mind. "Two bedrooms," Charles said after investigating, locking and barring the front door. "Plus, the couch is a fold-out."

"I'll fight you for the couch, old man."

"Nah. Go to bed, Dieter. The girls can share," Charlie said. "They'll be good."

"Only if Olivia promises she won't open the blinds," I said smoothly. "I am a very light-sensitive sleeper."

Dieter opened the door to the room for us, to discreetly check the windows. The blackout curtains that we'd requested were indeed in place. "Let us know if you need anything, Olivia," he said, looking over at her with a sympathetic eye. "I'm sure you weren't planning to be on the run, but you've got the three of us for back up now. Just be good to Malle, okay. Let her sleep. If you get restless, you can always come get Charlie or I. Capeesh?"

She smiled at him. "I will."

"Good. Now get your ass in bed." Dieter padded over to the other bedroom and vanished inside.

Olivia looked over at me. "If you don't want to share the bed, Malle, I can—"

"It is fine," I promised. "I am going to take a quick shower, but feel no need to stay up on my account."

"Thanks." She sighed. "I guess I really lucked out when I met you."

"Hardly," I said dismissively as I grabbed my suitcase off the bed and carried it into the bedroom. "Sleep well."

I stripped down in the bathroom and turned on the hot water. Once it was steaming, I stepped in and scrubbed myself down thoroughly. It was nowhere as comfortable as the Internationale's bath, but I had lived for centuries without that kind of self-indulgence. Luxury was a momentary privilege, not a right.

By the time I emerged clean and ready for bed, Olivia was already asleep. I tucked the box of earth under my side of the bed and climbed in. I could feel her warmth radiating through beneath the blanket, offering a strange tinge of life to my skin. There was a certain temptation to it, though not the Hunger. That, at least, was sated.

I closed my eyes when I felt the stirrings of dawn and slept, dreaming the old implacable dreams.