"How far will you go?" by Jenny Collyer

Sophie looked up from the invoice she had been holding in her hand to glance out of her open office door out across the outer office. She seethed silently and tapped her exquisite, manicured blue-painted fingernails on the desk. She silently ground her teeth together behind her pink lips. Her cool, blue eyes watched as William Colin walked up to the cheap, scantily clad secretary and kissed her sickeningly. Sophie shut her eyes and clenched a fist on the papered desk. When she opened them, William broke away from the bleached secretary. He looked up and smiled cheerily at his boss and waved a jaunty hand.

Sophie smiled back but did not wave. Her heart thudded in her chest at the sight of his silky brown hair that carelessly fell in his dark blue eyes. The suit kept little concealed of his slender, though well built frame.

William walked out of sight back to his desk and Sophie gazed thoughtfully after him, a lazy smile on her lips and tapping her ballpoint pen on the surface of the large, redwood desk. The secretary had gone back to her work, though Sophie could definitely tell there was and air of smugness in the way she typed. Sophie rose to her feet, straightened her tasteful designer suit. She tucked her naturally blond hair behind her ears as she strolled forward to pointedly shut the door of her office. She ground her teeth again and paced up and down the tidy office in her black stilettos on the expensive Serié carpet.

"Bitch," she mumbled to herself. "She has no idea what she is getting herself into!" Sophie stopped her pacing and told herself to calm down. She strolled back to her desk and sat down in the leather chair. She picked up her cordless phone and swiftly dialled a memorised number. It rang a while.

"Wright’s International Martial Arts, Central Office," chirruped a pleasant voice.

"I need to speak with Miss Wright immediately," said Sophie, examining her fingernails.

"Miss Wright is with a class right now, Madam, can I help you?"

Sophia growled softly. "She’ll come, just tell her it’s Anderson."

"Very well, Madam," the voice replied, slightly strained. Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony presently sang in her ears for a brief period. Sophie clicked the command on the phone to speaker and poured herself a drink at the mini bar in the corner of her office. She quietly observed one of the paintings hanging on her wall until she heard Alison Wright’s voice chime from out of the speakerphone.

"Hello, Sophie, what’s up?"

Sophie swilled her drink around in her glass. "Sorry to drag you away from your ass-kicking, Ali, but I swear that damn tramp is driving me mad."

Sophie heard Alison give a knowing sigh. "Why don’t you just fire her?"

"That’s not bad enough," said Sophie absently, her delicate brow creased in thought and slight anguish.

"It’s just not good enough being the head of Anderson Corporations Ltd, is it?" said Alison with a slight laugh. "You have to have everything else you want beside."

"Alison, you know perfectly well that all I want is Will, then I shall be happy," Sophie sighed and leant against the wall. "I almost had him too, until that tart came in with her implants and her skirts not fit to be belts."

"Soph, you’ll get him, don’t worry. As soon as he comes to his senses. What man has ever refused the illustrious Sophia Ruth Anderson? Johnny is still heart broken, I heard. He’s retired to the country and shut himself away from the world."

Sophie waved a hand. "Johnny was nothing serious," a smiled spread over her lips. "Though it was fun."

Alison laughed.

Sophie sat back down in her chair and shoved a few files in a drawer. "But what am I to do, Ali? What if I do it the same way you dealt with that girl when you were after her boyfriend?"

"Sophie, really," chided Alison’s voice playfully. "You can’t go and beat your staff in, it’s just not right."

"Well, it worked for you."

"I knew all the moves," said Alison with no small hint of pride. "Founder of Wright’s Martial Arts International your talking to here."

Sophie finished off her drink and smiled. "Oh well," she said, slightly lightened by her conversation with her friend. "I guess it can’t be helped for now."

"Ah, now," said Alison. "That’s not the Sophie Anderson I know. Where’s your British bulldog spirit gone? I hope your not going soft like the Americans. I’m afraid that city is making you back down! Fire the bitch! Go on! Toss her out onto the street, back to the whorehouse from which she came."

They both laughed. Then something occurred to Sophie as she watched the sun set over the skyscrapers of New York City. "No, I have a better idea. When’s your next visit to the states Ali?"

"About three weeks away, I think."

"I’m sure I’ll have caught him then. Do drop in when you land, won’t you? I’ll arrange a limo."

"Ah, now," said Alison. "I know that tone, you’ve got something planned."

Sophie chuckled and got up to pour herself another drink. "I’m going to go and see Jenny."

Alison laughed knowingly. "That’s more like it. The killer instinct."

Sophie parked her sleek black Porsche and climbed out, pulling her long leather coat around her, though it was not cold. Coming ‘to see Jenny’ always gave her the creeps; no matter how long she had known ‘Jenny’ for, which was many, many years, she could never dispel this fear.

She swiftly went through the busy, echoing lobby of the skyscraper, past the various reception desks, her sensible heels clicking on the marble floor. She clasped a small pendent that hung at her neck to make sure it was still there. The symbol of goodwill.

She skipped into a crowded lift just as the doors were closing. She reached forward and pressed the button which no one else in that lift had pressed. The very top floor. The first dozen or so floors in this building were business, offices and so forth, and it was to these that many of the people departed out of the lift. Soon she was alone in the mirrored elevator, and still travelling upwards. She glanced at her reflection. She knew that her appearance would not effect her host in anyway, but even so, she did like to show off some of the qualities in her form that her host did not possess, merely to try to show both of them that they were so very different. Sophie had combed her wavy hair into a neat tail and wore only a touch of make up that was all that was needed to enhance her beauty. Her already impressive height was pushed above the six-foot mark in her boots and her long black leather coat also emphasised her elegant height.

The lift pinged to a halt on the very top floor. It had taken nearly ten minutes to reach the floor and it was deathly quiet. The door slid open on silent hinges. Sophie stepped forth, her feet sounding unnaturally loud on the floor. She swallowed and crossed the small hallway, which she felt Jenny had included in the design of this floor merely to give visitors that last chance to change their mind. Sophie felt sure however, that it was only she, and occasionally Alison when she was in town, who ever came up to this floor willingly.

Sophie stepped forward to the apartment doors, which were not locked. But Sophie new Jenny did not fear intruders. Sophie was also quite certain, due to the look of this door, which still looked brand new, that the apartment’s occupant never used the door to enter or exit the building.

Sophie screwed up her courage and paced forth into the apartment. It was absolutely huge, bigger than most houses. The ceilings were so high she might have been in a church. But there was no echoing. It was very, very dark, but that did not mean that its occupant was absent. In the gloom, Sophie could see large and rare paintings that hung on the walls. There was parquet wooden flooring that was polished. Expensive rugs lay about at intervals.

Every time she came here, she thought that the resemblance to a church was uncanny. It was so quiet, but not peacefully so: eerily so. She took a deep breath and strode forward, knowing she was welcome here, no matter how unwelcoming the house felt. Out of the entrance chamber, she came to an almost crossroads in the middle of the rooms. To her right through a huge arch that showed most of the room beyond was a dining room with a long wooden table, of the kind she often imagined lords of old seated at with their ladies and guests. But to her knowledge, this table was rarely ever used. The room was still beautiful with fine dressers hidden in the dark full of antique crystal. There were also paintings hung on the wall within, but there was no light in there, so she could not even make out the outlines.

To her left was the room she was heading for, the lounge, which was also almost biblical in proportions. If she had not known that she was on the top of a building she could have sworn this was a mansion of ancient Britain. The living room was also large with half of its walls dedicated to books. Shelves and shelves of neat volumes collected over hundreds of years. There was also a large desk with nothing on it save a small wooden holder that held some fine fountain pens and a computer monitor and keyboard. Large chairs were arranged and sort of circle around a fireplace, which was empty and swept clean. A large crystal mirror hung over the mantle and the remaining walls were also given over to various paintings.

The only light in the whole mansion of an apartment that was coming from a small lamp glowing on a table beside one of the chairs.

Sophie jerked herself from examining this amazing castle of an apartment and went forward into the empty living room. She settled herself in a chair by the fireplace, closest to the lamp, and felt the expensive fabric mould itself around her. She looked around the room, wondering whether Jenny was actually in. Jenny would know how to deal with Sophie’s problem in her own, unique way. Sophie listened to the eerie quiet with a smile on her face. William would soon be hers.

She looked up and there was a figure sitting in the chair opposite. Sophie shrieked. "Bloody hell, Jenny!" she cried, clutching her chest. "I wish you wouldn’t do that!"

"Sorry," the figure replied quietly, but with no emotion. The woman sitting opposite would have been terrifying in herself even if she had not just appeared from nowhere and seated herself without a sound right under Sophie’s nose. Her skin was so pale it seemed to almost glow with its own incandescence. Her face seemed like a statue of marble, as if every contour was polished stone. Her hair was long and fell to the middle of her back and was a dark brown, with a slightly unnatural glimmer of dark red to it. It did not shift at all as the woman sat there. She was like a photograph. Her lips were white like her face with a faint tinge of red. Each eyelash could be distinguished from the whiteness of her eyelids that never seemed to blink. And her eyes! They were the most terrifying of all. They seemed to glow within the shadows in which she sat, and yet that did not. They were eyes that knew the horror, the pain, and the violence of many lifetimes. Their colour was an unnatural shade of blackish brown with streaks of blood red that seemed to exude their own light. They seemed to tell the tale of many years and yet at a second more careful glance, the woman seemed like a girl no older than sixteen.

"So to what do I owe this unexpected visit, Miss Anderson?" her voice was quiet like the apartment, and yet seemed deafening. She spoke like a woman, but not a human woman. Sophie had to watch carefully to actually see her lips move as she spoke.

It took a while for Sophie to find her voice. "Jenny," she said, leaning back in the chair. "How are you?"

"Same as ever."

Sophie looked at her. "Lucius not in?"

"No. He went to Europe some time ago for a few months."

"Are you planning to follow?"

"No."

Sophie ground her teeth.

The girl smiled, knowing she was annoying her guest. Sophie could see the small, but deadly sharp fangs as the girl smiled in this awful manner.

"Would you like a drink, Sophie?" she asked quietly, getting up without a sound and seeming to walk without touching the ground to a small drink stand. Jenny’s clothes were as curious as the rest of her. Black jeans that seemed pretty normal, but also a black silken shirt that was a little too big for her and yet seemed to fit her perfectly. It seemed modern, but the cut of it seemed slightly to reflect the style some forgotten century. Also a black satin waistcoat that looked right for a man, with black thread tracing snaky patterns about the hem. It made Jenny, from the back, look like a young eighteenth century lord. All she needed were white stockings and knee-length breeches. Her movements were uncannily accurate as she poured a scotch for Sophie and seemed to appear again in her chair. The drink was on the table next to Sophie.

"Jenny, please just sit still for a moment and listen to me," Sophie said, eager to get onto her reason for being there. Jenny inclined her head ever so slightly with that eerie smile, which meant she was amused, playing on her bloody lips.

"It’s William," Sophie said with earnest, sitting forward.

"Ah, yes," replied the vampire, still smiling. "The mortal boy whom you wish to capture, yes?"

Sophie nodded. "Well, he’s got this infatuation with one of my secretaries."

"Arleen Roacher." The vampire stated.

Sophie did not bother to ask how she knew. "I know you can help me, my friend."

Jenny laughed slightly, covering her mouth with a white hand with creepy sharp and glassy fingernails. "I cannot help but admire your approach to problems, Sophie Anderson."

"You know how I feel about Will, Jeniva," Sophie scolded.

"All too well, my friend, all too well," the girl was silent for a moment. "Alison’s in town soon, no?"

"Yes, she is,"

"Ah, we must go out somewhere one night."

"Jenny!" said Sophie standing up. "Will you help me, or will you not?"

That awful laugh again. Jenny stood without a sound. She was shorter than Sophie in her flat shoes, but that made her none the less intimidating. Jenny flicked the dark hair behind her shoulder and patted Sophie on the shoulder companionably. Even through her leather coat, Sophie shuddered at the coldness of her hand. "All but done my friend, all but done."

Sophie smiled herself this time. Sometimes it paid to be friends with a vampire; provided you are on the right side of them, that is. The bleached bitch had no chance in hell.

"Thanks, Jen. What do you want in return? A couple million?"

The girl shook her head and seemed almost human for the moment in her amusement. "Money is of no use to me, old friend." The red streaked gaze glanced at Sophie’s neck. Sophie quickly covered her throat protectively with a hand before she realised the girl was looking at the pendant.

Sophie frowned. "Jenny, really, I would have thought that you think better of me than to check I’m still wearing the pendent," said Sophie. The pendent was nothing special in itself, but it symbolised an oath that Sophie had taken to ensure she told no one about the whereabouts of Jenny’s daytime lair or even her existence. Sophie had thought that she and Jenny had been close enough to have no need of the oath, but it was difficult to get any vampire to fully trust a mortal. Jenny was only truly in danger during the daylight hours when she disappeared somewhere in this apartment to sleep away the light and Sophie knew the location of this apartment.

Jenny said nothing. She was just ensuring that Sophie understood their odd association was still strictly controlled.

"Just checking my friend," her silken voice said.

Jenny turned and paced deliberately slowly and almost human like, to the books on the shelves. She pulled one off the shelf and glanced through the old scripted pages in the scanty light of the one lamp on the table. Without looking up, she spoke in that quiet yet loud manner. "You are welcome to stay for the rest of the night. You know where the bedroom is."

Sophie pondered for a moment, but she still felt uneasy in this place. "No, thank you Jenny, I have to get to the office early tomorrow."

The blood-streaked eyes moved from the pages to look at Sophie. "You still don’t trust me?"

"You don’t trust me." Sophie pointed out.

"Touché," said Jenny with another ghastly smile, snapping the book shut and placing it back on the shelf.

Sophie circled around the chair and leant against the back of it with her arms crossed and gazed, without fear, at Jenny, extremely puzzled. "You don’t think I’d really try to kill you, do you?"

"No," said Jenny. "But many things can change a mortal’s mind unwillingly, especially in this day and age. And there are other people in this city that might be glad to get their hands on a vampire."

"Really, like who?" said Sophie, interested. "I didn’t think anyone knew about you except me, Alison and Charles."

"There are others." Said Jenny quietly as her eyes took on a murderous look. She gave no further information.

Sophie nodded, accepting, but not understanding. They were both silent for a long moment. Sophie glanced at her watch and realised how late it was. "So you’ll do me this favour then, and do it discreetly?"

"Of course."

Sophie smiled, finished off the drink Jenny had offered and moved to leave. Jenny was standing at the front door when Sophie got there, though she could have sworn the girl had still been standing by the bookshelf.

"Say hello to Lucius for me when he returns," said Sophie as Jenny opened the door for her.

Jenny nodded, her dark hair shimmering around her head as she did so. "I’ll find you after it’s done."

Sophie woke next morning with an enormous sense of well being. By tomorrow at the latest, all her problems would be over and she and Will could be together. Sophie smiled the entire morning as she showered and dressed in her luxurious apartment that was almost as big as Jenny’s, though not quite as medieval in appearance. She left her wavy hair down and put a touch of make up on her face, grabbed her handbag and car keys. She took the lift down to the car park and climbed into her Porsche. She sped through the city streets with skill and soon arrived at the office building.

She strolled past the secretary’s desk, not looking at the woman but smiling. She opened her office door and turned as she entered. The secretary was staring at her from under fake eyelashes, glaring suspiciously at her boss’s unusually happy mood.

"Good morning, Arleen," said Sophie sweetly and shut the door, knowing that she would probably be saying good morning for the last time. She chuckled to herself as she sat at her desk to begin work.

Later on in the day, when her door was open, she saw Will come and visit the little whore. Sophie watched in the mirror on her desk with her back turned. Will looked a little flustered this morning, but none the less gorgeous. He bent over and talked to the secretary quietly. She seemed agitated and pulled her collar down to show William something on her neck. Sophie saw what she was pointing out to him: a row of fresh wounds that looked like…teeth marks. Sophie smiled. It was Jenny’s little indication that she was ready to carry out her task.

Will looked at the wounds in puzzlement and the girl seemed equally confused. Jenny had found the right house whilst the bitch slept. Sophie could not stop grinning in satisfaction.

Later that day she took and early lunch to go to the theatre. Her friend, the famous Charles Arrowsmith, was putting on one of his plays and Sophie had been invited to see it.

It was another exquisite achievement and it was a long time until the thunderous applause had finally died down after its finale. Sophie then ventured backstage to congratulate Charles and to tell him about her little scheme.

Charles was in his dressing room, taking off his stage make-up. Sophie walked in and slapped him on the back. "Another triumph, Charlie," she said, smiling.

"Why thank you Sophie," he said with a smile, turning around in his seat to face her. Sophie had known Charles since they were at the Corbet School together in England and was also one of her most trusted friends. He was middle-height with brown hair brushed into a side-parting and elegant glasses which he now took from his desk and set them over his blue eyes. He had a phenomenal mind and it often made Sophie wonder why he was not a scientist of some sort. But instead he had prospered in his own way by founding Arrosmith Plays and Pictures. "I trust you are well?"

"Never been better, Charles," said Sophie sitting down. "And do you know why?"

"No, why?"

"Because Will will soon be mine." Sophie grinned and sighed.

Charles regarded her coolly. "I thought he was going out with that secretary of yours?"

"He still is, but won’t be tomorrow," Sophie took off her coat, crossed her legs and looked at him, glad to see the look of puzzlement in his eyes.

"And why is that?"

Sophie leant forward and uttered a single word: "Jeniva."

Realisation dawned in Charles’s eyes and he smiled in understanding. "That’s evil, Sophie."

"Yeah, well," said Sophie dismissively. "I like to do things thoroughly."

Charles laughed softly. "How is Jenny?"

"Still as damn terrifying as ever," said Sophie, shuddering slightly.

"And Lucius?" said Charles, in a different tone, unconsciously rubbing a scar on his neck.

"He’s gone to Europe, Charles," said Sophie with a smile. "No need to worry."

Sophie could not help but laugh at the look of relief on Charles’s face. Charles glared at her.

Sophie threw her hands up in innocence. "Hey, how can I help it if he has a taste for the theatre?"

"You know the fiend," protested Charles.

"No, I don’t," said Sophie, shaking her head. "No one knows him really, except Jenny. And I think that is definitely a good thing."

Charles agreed. They talked together for a little while longer. When Sophie finally got up to leave it was almost an hour later. She kissed him fondly on the cheek and sauntered back to the office.

3 She could not wait for the next morning. She felt great as she watched the sun go down out of the office window.

The nightlife of New York was one that cannot be compared with the rest of the world. Shouting, screaming, laughing were noises in abundance. The ever-present roar of traffic, screeching sirens and the distant throb of music that came from the numerous clubs and discos.

From where she stood in the damp alleyway outside a common, heaving disco, Jenny could hear the entire city. She could her the throbbing mass of human bodies within the building she leant on and could smell the inticing scent of human blood, hot and energetic, on the midnight breeze. And, from the heaving throng, she could pick out her prey.

A thin, gangly waif who danced and kissed anyone she could grab. Her bleached and brittle hair was twisted painfully up on the top of her small head and her face was caked with pastes and powders that all smudged and ran together in the heat of the disco. Through her bloodstream ran drugs that made her giddy and wild, but they were destroying her body. It made Jenny sick to listen to the pained thrust of her poisoned heart in her body as it pushed the chemicals around in her veins. The girl had such little appreciation for her life; Jenny would enjoy destroying it.

Arleen staggered out of the hot disco with her arm latched around some boy’s waist. She laughed, drunk and hysterical ad she pulled him along towards his car. She giggled madly to herself delightedly; she had her evening planned. He laughed with her as they lurched down the street.

Arleen stopped suddenly. Through the haze of drink and drugs she thought she heard her name spoken. But she dismissed it as the boy pulled her along impatiently. But then she heard it again; it was no more than a whisper, but she could clearly define her name. She told the boy to carry on to his car and, intrigued, investigated a small damp alleyway, which she thought the sound was coming from.

She almost tripped over many times in her drunken state as she slowly explored the smelly, shadowy alley. She could not see straight, but she carried on, and presently she made out the faint outline of a figure leaning perfectly still against the dirty wall.

"You callin’ me, bastard?" she slurred, trying to focus her eyes. She thought it was a man, but she could not decide exactly. She was not thinking straight, so was not alarmed…yet. It wore a long black overcoat and its hair long. It did not move.

A car suddenly screeched past in the street and the light from the headlights was thrown momentarily on the figure’s face. Arleen cried out and stumbled backwards a few steps. It was a woman, but not like any woman she had ever seen. "What the hell are you?"

"Nothing you need worry about for much longer,"

It’s voice sent shivers down her spine and she found herself wrapping her arms around herself protectively. She backed off, heading back to the lighted street, not liking it there in the dark with that strange woman.

"Oh, don’t go Arleen," the woman said softly, standing upright away from the wall with one fluid movement.

Arleen felt those chills again. She said nothing and continued backward, slowly trying to gather the courage to turn her back and run. But she felt running would not help.

"I’m leaving," she stammered, trying to convince herself more than the woman. "What do you want?"

The figure continued to approach slowly and languidly, yet Arleen found it impossible to get away from her in time. She suddenly found herself pressed against the wall by a hand that was clasped at her throat. The hand was colder than ice. The woman’s white face was barely inches away from her own.

"Get your hand of me!" she screeched. "I’ll call the cops! Get away from me!"

"Shh," the terrifying creature soothed her. A horrifying smile spread across the ghostly face and the white fingers of the free hand eased Arleen’s hair behind her ear. "It’s very unladylike to scream in such a fashion."

"Freak!" Arleen whispered, her voice breaking, growing terrified. "Get away from me!"

"You insult me?" The woman’s head cocked to one side in the shadows, her white brow creased in puzzlement.

Arleen clawed desperately at the hand that held her throat firmly. "Who are you?" she croaked.

"You don’t remember me? No, I don’t suppose you would," she said thoughtfully, smiling in a ghastly way. "We met last night, but you were asleep." The woman’s thumb, that was pressed against Arleen’s throat, gently rubbed the mysterious wound Arleen had found on her neck that morning.

Arleen gave up struggling; her blood froze in her veins. Her eyes grew very wide and her mouth dropped open in terror. She tried to shake her head in denial but she could not move.

The woman leaned forward. "You’ve hurt a very dear friend of mine," she whispered, her lips close to Arleen’s ear. The woman’s soft dark hair was feathery against the skin of Arleen’s face. "She’s in love with William, and you know William is in love with her, don’t you? And yet you refuse to release him."

"I don’t know what you’re…" Arleen choked, but her voice gave out. Tears of fear and anger ran down her face.

The strange woman laughed delicately in Arleen’s ear. "Yes you do, little girl, little bitch. Unfaithful and frivolous whore that you are."

"William? William?" she tried to comprehend. "Anderson!" she croaked, understanding. "She’s paid you to do this! Let me go! I’ll pay you double what that stupid, jealous…" the hand tightened on her throat. Her nerve broke again.

"Oh, no. I’m not getting paid," the vampire whispered, so quietly.

Arleen hated not being able to see the creature’s face, but feel it so close to her. All she could do was stare at the wall opposite and pray. She pressed herself against the wall, praying she would just slip through it, escape this, escape it now. Everything seemed so simple, everything had been fun. It should not end this way! It should not end at all! "Please," she begged.

"You don’t appreciate your life at all. You don’t deserve it."

"Who are you?" Arleen cried again desperately.

The hand tightened and pulled Arleen’s head over to one side. "They call me Jeniva."

Jenny sat in her dining room at the empty table and listened to the city outside the apartment. She loved to do this, just sit in silence and let the noises of the city lap at her hearing. She would listen to mortal’s conversations in the streets or buildings surrounding her, wonder idly what they were talking about, and then move onto someone else. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her skin was slightly less pale than usual, now that she had just recently fed. The night was still young and she planned to go out again soon, possibly to find Sophie, or Charles, or whatever took her fancy. She did not take commitments too strictly. She told Sophie she would find her afterwards, but she did not say immediately.

She suddenly felt a presence behind her chair, although she had heard no one approach.

"Ah, my dearest Lucius," she said, reaching up for the hand she knew was resting on the wooden chair back. She eased it down and gently kissed the white palm, feeling the hard coldness of the skin against her face.

"Jeniva," Lucius’s voice soothed her like cooling waves. She felt his other hand gently stroke her hair. "You’ve fed?"

Jenny nodded. "You’ve come back to me?" she asked, hopeful.

"No, ma cherie," he said softly. "I’m not staying long."

Jenny felt a faint pang.

"You know you can come back with me," he said. "I wish you would."

"No," she said. "Not yet. I couldn’t."

She could sense Lucius’s understanding. She held his hand and he pulled her up onto her feet and turned her away from the table to face him. She smiled and put her hands on his face. "You have not fed," she said gently.

He gathered her into his arms and grinned. "I was hoping to eat with you."

"I’m not full," Jenny replied, also smiling. She brushed his blond wavy hair away from his face and kissed his cold lips.

"No luck in finding him, then?" she whispered into the soft curls of his hair.

"No, not yet, but I can’t give up so soon. You know me, I’ll never give anything up without a fight," he smiled.

"Yes, you stubborn fool," Jeniva replied, smiling against his neck.

"But that’s why I have to return for a while longer. I came back to try and persuade you to come back with me. I can’t let Christian’s trail go cold. I go back tonight."

Jenny did not answer. The smile dropped from her face. He knew she would not go back to Britain, not yet. She just revelled in the sense of having him back for even this short while. Her hand cradled his smooth face as she rested her head on his shoulder with her face resting against the crook of his neck.

His sigh was soft and he buried his face in her hair.

Some happy hours later, Jenny and Lucius parted silently at some docks on Manhattan Island. She held him in her arms, reluctant to let him go again. He pulled away, and with a sad smile, was gone. Jenny wandered the docks in silence.

The security guard in a room high up within a warehouse looked up from his small TV set because of something that had caught his eye down on the draughty warehouse floor. He picked up his torch and flashed the beam around the empty warehouse from his vantagepoint, but could see nothing. But something compelled him to flash the beam up at the rafters. And there…he could not believe his eyes. A woman was standing, upside down on the ceiling of the warehouse. Actually standing on the ceiling. Her black greatcoat hung down behind her head and dark hair hung from the white face. The guard gasped and blinked, but it was gone.

"Gotta lay off the beer a bit," he muttered as he once more scanned the warehouse floor and ceiling, but it was completely empty.

Icy fingers grabbed him from behind, and he knew no more.

Sophie turned on the radio the next morning to hear the report of a murder of a young woman named Arleen Roacher in a downtown alleyway that was baffling the police. She almost yipped for joy. She did not listen to the rest of the report that commented on some ‘higher involvement within the case’ and that the police were giving no extra details. If she had heard this however, she would have become very worried very fast.

When she arrived at work the secretary desk was empty. She suddenly found that she was extremely fond of this desk now it was empty. She wandered into her office and called for Will.

He came in looking rather distraught.

"You wanted me Miss Anderson?" he said.

Sophie observed a light come into his eye as he looked at her.

"I’m so very sorry about Arleen, William," Sophie said with as much sympathy she could muster.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"You seem really upset,"

"I just feel so guilty, Miss Anderson," he replied looking her in the eye. Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. "I never got the chance to tell her…" he stammered.

"Tell her what?" asked Sophie, getting worried that it was going to be about undying love.

He collapsed into the seat she offered and looked at her with that same pleasant light dancing in his eyes. "That I did not love her."

Sophie contained her excitement. "Oh?"

"Yes," he looked up at her. "It’s just that her desk was outside your door and so it gave me an excuse too…" he paused awkwardly. "It’s just I think I…I…" he fumbled with his fingers.

Sophie sat forward in her chair.

"I’ve always loved you…Sophie."

He looked at her out of his sea-green eyes. He slowly stood and leaned over the desk towards her. He pressed his lips to hers and Sophie grabbed his tie and pulled him onto the desk.

It was several weeks later, and Sophie was happier than she ever had been. She woke up every morning in the warm bed with Will by her side. Every morning for the past three weeks, both she and Will had been late for work, but they did not care. A new, male, secretary was hired and he was certainly more competent than Arleen had been. But Arleen had not entered into Sophie’s thoughts for a long time, and she was certain that she was not missed by Will anymore either. She forgot completely, also, about Jenny and was therefore not suspicious when Jenny never turned up to talk.

Alison flew in then. Sophie was delighted when she received a call from her friend in advance and arranged the limousine to pick her up from the private terminal at the airport. Sophie invited Charles over that night and she put some champagne on ice.

It was not long before all four of them were sitting the large lounge on various chairs and sofas. There was a fire burning in the grate and it was snug and warm in room. They chatted for some while and the night was quiet and still.

Will was sitting on a deep plush sofa with Sophie when he suddenly stood and stared. He pointed out the French windows.

"There’s someone sitting on the balcony!" he stammered.

All looked. Jenny was perched on the rail, one arm draped over a knee brought up to her chest, and the other leg dangling out of sight over the wall. She was staring into the room. No one knew how long she had been there, but she looked troubled, as far as it was possible for her to look troubled.

Charles glanced at Sophie, and she nodded, taking Will’s hand. Charles rose and went to the windows whilst Sophie explained:

"She’s a friend, Will. Don’t be scared."

"How the hell did she get there?"

Charles opened the window and Jenny raised herself upright and walked slowly into the room. Sophie eased Will back down onto the sofa beside her.

"Hello Sophie," said Jenny, trying to sound human. "Alison, Charles," she added nodding at each in turn. Her eyes came to Will. Sophie felt him stiffen, but eased him.

Charles shut the window and Alison rose to her feet.

"My friend…" Sophie began.

"I’m leaving," Jenny interrupted. "I’m going to Europe, now."

Sophie blinked. "Very well. Any particular reason?"

"Someone knows about me," she said quietly. "Someone in this city, and they’re after me. I’m going away for a while, a few years, maybe more."

"But Jenny," said Alison. "I thought you hated Europe. I thought Europe was where…"

"I know, I know!" Jenny screeched in despair, shattering an empty champagne glass.

Will took his hands away from his ears and stared. Jenny collapsed into an empty chair and Charles and Alison both also resumed their seats. Jenny was bent forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands clutching her hair.

"Who knows, Jenny?" asked Sophie, sitting forward in her seat. "How could they possibly…?"

"I don’t know," she said. "If I knew that I wouldn’t have to leave!" She let her hair go and sat upright to stare at Sophie. Her face was horrifying in its fury. Her mouth was open and her fangs bared, her eyes were blazing. Sophie unconsciously recoiled.

The vampire’s face softened. "I’m sorry," she looked at them all. "I’m sorry my friends. I’m just very scared…very confused, and very worried."

The blood streaked gaze flicked to the speechless Will, who was now gasping to himself like a fish out of water. "I’m sorry, young sir," she said, inclining her head. "I did not want to frighten you."

Will eased somewhat and Sophie felt better, though still slightly angry at Jenny’s rude outburst.

Charles chipped in, "Jeniva," he said softly. Jenny looked to him. "Do you have any idea why they’re after you?"

Jenny sighed and shut her eyes. "I think they had suspected my existence for some time and then Arle…"

Sophie held her breath. "Don’t mention Arleen, don’t mention Arleen!" she prayed silently. Who knew what Will would think? Jenny glanced at him and Sophie and continued. "And then that girl they found sort of confirmed their suspicions."

Charles sank into thought. "Do think they will try to kill you?"

"I don’t know," she said, standing. "But I’m not waiting to find out. They’re clever people, and they’re angry. People laughed at them when they said ‘Vampires’; they feel obliged to prove themselves, no matter what." She paused. "And there are a lot of them."

All stood, except Will. Alison, Sophie and Charles all looked at each other. How did they comfort a vampire? They had all thought of Jenny as a friend, but not a human friend. They had never even guessed that she would ever need their help.

Jenny looked out of the window. "I don’t want to go to Europe my friends. I don’t want to return to Britain!" She turned back to them and Sophie swore she could actually see tears in her eyes.

Alison laid a hand on her shoulder. "You must go somewhere, Jenny! You mustn’t allow them to catch you!"

"Can’t you go anywhere else?" asked Sophie, coming forward to stand with Alison by the window. "Russia, China?"

Jenny shook her head, wiping her eyes. "I need my Lucius. I have to find him. And who knows, maybe Christian’s there too. God knows what I would say to him though."

It amazed Sophie to see Jenny so despairing. Sophie had never seen Jenny so scared. It awoke a human compassion within her. She knew how much Jenny hated her home country, and she also knew why.

Charles joined them and took Jenny by the hand. Jenny looked surprised at this gesture and met his eyes.

"You’re strong, Jenny," he said. "You can do this, you can return. You need to."

Alison agreed.

Jenny looked at them all with a blank face. None of them knew what this meant. She suddenly wiped her tears away, hugged Sophie, Alison, then Charles. She gave Charles a kiss on the cheek and looked to Will, who had given up being scared and was merely staring with sad eyes. Jenny smiled to him and gave them all one final look.

"I hope I will see you again someday, but I do need to disappear for a while."

Sophie nodded and smiled. Alison opened the door in the French windows. Without a backward glance, Jenny walked outside and jumped over the rail silently.

There was silence in the apartment. All four of the friends went out onto the balcony and looked down over the rail to the ant-like people and cars below crawling along on the lamp-lit street far below. The night breeze tugged at all of them gently and Jenny was nowhere to be seen.

The stared, all affected in different ways. Sophie felt for Will’s hand and took it. He hugged her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Sophie," he said softly. "What the hell was that?"

Sophie and Alison glanced at each other with a smile. "A very long story, Will," said Alison.

Charles laughed sadly. "Well, who’s for more champagne?"