It has been a week and a half since I was kicked out of my own home. In all this time, I have not done a single thing to accomplish my goal of returning. I was busy, chasing some insignificant vamps because of Blake, the ghost from my past. Moreover, I was so careless, I let some CNS bastard gain leverage on me. It`s a disaster, if I were to speak plainly. However, I realize my mistakes now and I am not going to repeat them. From now on, I`ll focus every minute of the every night to a single task: harvesting enough power to take on the whole Coalition and beat that impudent government dog. It would not be easy, though. I`ll need information, for starters.

That is why I am now sitting before a chubby man with balding head and glasses, Mark Beeko. Donna claims that he is an expert on surveillance and there might be something true to the statement: the man looks like the kind to spy on all the women in the neighborhood.

"So, can you do it?" – I ask him.

"Find someone without knowing whom I looking for?" – Mark nags me, his little eyes full of greed, - "Well, that depends…"

I open the drawer, pull out a white envelope and put in on the desk.

"Three thousand Reds there." – I tell him and see his creepy face bright up in joy.

Three thousand of Red Coins is a lot of money. Enough to buy a decent house, probably.

"Sure, no problem." – Mark brags, examining the envelope, - "Describe the target."

"Women, platinum hair and faces that display no age."

"Friends of yours?" – he wonders, pocketing the envelope.

"Witches."

"Wow." – Mark gaspes, - "Do they really eat children?"

"Once in fifty years." – I clarify.

"Cool." – he nods, before continuing, - "Give me a few hours, yea?"

He stands up and extends his hand. I hesitate for a moment, before shaking it.

"Goodbye, Mr. Beeko." – I say, while wiping my hand from the grease.

Witches are the best when it comes to supernatural gossip. It`s a professional hazard for them, know everything about everyone. Since I`m new to the city and its paranormal community, it`d be good to have a chat with them. Besides, they might have something on the Inspector.

While waiting for Mark to report in, I decide to visit Charlie. It`s always good to create an image of the caring boss. The boy is still in infirmary, his injury not healed yet. Vampiric regeneration works in rather confusing ways for half-bloods. Wounds from bullets anywhere, except for the head, would be gone in a matter of hours, but blade and blunt weapons of melee combat would leave traces for days to come.

When I step into the infirmary, first thing I see is a thirteen-year-old teenager reprimanding Charlie, who looks extremely uncomfortable. It`s Isabelle, his sister with long black curls.

"You could have died, you idiot." – I hear her say, simultaneously punching Charlie on the arm.

"Calm down, Isabelle. Master would`ve saved me."

"I think you put too much faith in this Master." – she tells him, folding her arms across her chest.

"And I think you`ve got too big of a mouth, little girl." – I decide to join the conversation. It just won`t do for this rebellious child to undermine my authority.

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Isabelle turns to me with fire in her eyes, but keeps quiet. She surely would be a lot of trouble when she grows up. When that happens, I wonder if it would be more efficient to just get rid of them both.

"I`m sorry, Master. She didn`t mean anything by it." – Charlie quickly apologizes for his sister, while trying to sit up in his bed.

"It`s fine.", I reply and flash a hideous smile towards Isabelle, - "What are you doing here, anyway? Weren`t you supposed to be at the movies?"

She narrows her eyes and sigh exasperatedly.

"As if I don`t understand that Charlie is hurt whenever you come up with an activity for me."

"Smart girl." – I say, - "Couldn`t your brother be the same?"

Charlie laughs at that.

"Didn`t know you could joke, boss."

"I have my moments." – I reply.

"Did something happened, Master? I can walk already, if you need me." – he asks me, signaling Isabelle to go. She looks undecided for a moment, but then leaves.

"Calm down. I am just checking up on you."

"Thank you. You`ve done so much for me Master…" – he praises and looks at me with an absolute respect, - "I really can`t put into words."

It all began about a year ago. Charlie was sixteen and as poor as one can be. He was just deemed mature by the orphanage he lived in and let go into the real world. Let go only with his passport and his knowledge of the streets. In the Union, if you work hard enough, everything would be provided for you: food, electronics, a roof over your head. However, who would hire a troubled kid with a record and lacking education? He had to steal, just to survive. That was not the problem though: Charlie always lived in a similar way. What was troubling him, was the fact that Isabelle was up for adoption. That would be incredible, with Isabelle having a better life that she could ever hope for with him, except that the family had a reputation. A bad kind, known for abusing the kids they fostered. The father was an assistant to the local Partyman, so, naturally, no one could stop it. Charlie did the only thing he could then: he broke into the orphanage and destroyed all the paperwork, freezing the adoption for some time. Not two weeks had passed and the new papers were made. Charlie was getting desperate and that is when I found him.

For every pure blood, it is extremely important to ensure the loyalty of their halflings. They are the ones protecting us during day time, after all. So, when I heard about this situation, I immediately set out to find such a promising prospect. A lonely kid, with nothing to lose, everything to gain and a perfect lever to keep him in check – what more could a vampire ask for? I dealt with the foster family, gently suggesting leaving the girl alone. The sight of a seven feet tall, disfigured creature with glowing red eyes and marble skin can be quite persuasive. In return, I gained a pup second only to Donna in his dedication to me.

"Don`t mention it.", - I tell him, - "Just keep an eye out for Isabelle. She might get herself in trouble with such an attitude."

"I`ll do my best, Master."

I nod at him and leave the infirmary.

Quarter of a night has passed and I find myself in the company of Mark, the surveillance expert, once again. He wears flip-flops, knee-high denim shorts and a checkered shirt with a stain on it.

"Did you know" – yaks Mark, falling into a chair, "that the government constantly watches us?"

"Cameras are everywhere, dude. I wonder if they would soon place recon devises into our TVs and form a division to control our thoughts somehow."

"Would be easier to do your job that way, wouldn`t it?", I tell him with a pout.

"Yep." – he answers and gives me an envelope, similar to that which I gave him, "Look inside. That’s who are you looking for?"

I open it and take out the photos. There are ten of them, all of two different women. The first one is tall and blue-eyed, in every shot looking with unhidden contempt at her surroundings. The other is of average height and emits kindness from every angle.

"That`s them. You got the address?" – I answer him, putting the photos back.

"Of course." – he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, - "Maybe, add a little something for a work fast done?"

"Do you truly have gigantic balls, Mr. Beeko? Or are you just a fool, trying to haggle with me for mere money?"

He examines me, as if for the first time. He gazes into my eyes, radiating their unearthly red light. His breath quickens and his forehead begins to sweat.

"My bad.", - says Mark, "Here, take it."

"Nice doing business with you."

"Uh-huh." – he replies and leaves, with an admirable speed.

"Funny guy." – comments Donna, stepping out of the shadows.

"I hope I haven`t scared him too much." – I tell her, inspecting the paper with printed coordinates on it, "He is quite capable, despite his looks."

"Don`t think you have to worry about it." – Donna reassures me, giggling. - "From what I`ve heard, the man will work even with the demons, if they offer enough cash."

I smile at her.

"Do you want to go on a hunt, Donna?"

"Are you serious?" – she asks, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Yeah." – I answer, - "Witches might need your delicate touch."

"What are waiting for, then?", - she practically yells, "Let`s go!"