Standing outside the apartment complex, a man trudged, hauling his luggage, a very large very long black box on a pair of wheels. Dropping it on the sidewalk, he grunted uncomfortably, aware that his awkward appearance was amusing a group of bicycle-riding hooligans making obscene remarks as they passed by.

"Obnoxious pups..." growled Chase Ankers, a tall blonde and handsome man who looked to be in his mid to late twenties, at the pinnacle of the mortal life cycle. However, in his case he was no longer a part of that cycle, no longer a living breathing organism. No, he was something much more now, walking a journey that would lead him to unknown wonders and glory. He looked up at the mildly lit structure, the Westwood Vistas, on the West Side of Sacramento, the finest in urban dwelling in his price range and on such short notice. Not exactly an ideal location to begin his journey, was it. Well he would just have to make due.

Because of his disappearance over a year ago his family had made extra effort in tracking him down, their legitimate heir and treasured son; at least for the purpose of ensuring the continuation of their line. A year was a long time though, and with no ransom note or rational trail to follow he wouldn't be surprised if they just endorsed his sister as heiress and chalked it up to bad luck. Until he was on equal ground, however, he wouldn't be able to reinstate himself as heir. If he revealed himself now it would be the equivalent to surrender. They'd demand his return and use any sort of leverage to ensure it. That was the important lessons they bequeathed unto him, how to use people.

But now he had a Haven, a private sanctuary from the world, a place to rest. He scoffed audibly as he continued hauling his luggage to the front door of the complex. He knocked on the office door and patiently waited. A minute later a small man appeared, balding with thick-rimmed glasses.

"Hey there, fella, you that new tenant Daisy mentioned?"

"Chase Ankers, and yes," he replied coldly. This wasn't the woman he had talked to on the phone. Yes, Daisy was her name. She must have been a mere saleswoman, so this man must be the landlord. Charming.

"Well I've got a pair of keys for you. Room 108, on the west side. I guess you said something about the windows being on the west side. Bit of a shame that, you won't get to see the California sunrise."

Chase restrained himself from laughing aloud, that's the point, addle-minded simpleton. This Haven needed to be safe as possible until he arranged more advantageous accommodations and that meant no sunlight, no detection, and close enough proximity to the kindred presence without exposing himself too much. The apartment would satisfy these criteria.

The landlord comically attempted to lift the black box to no avail. Chase stepped over to him, "What are you doing?"

A little overwhelmed, the man panted with a show of fatigue, "I was going to help you with that luggage but I may have to call a couple of my boys to help bring it up."

"That won't be necessary, I'll manage. Just leave it here for now while you show me to my room." The statement wasn't quite a request but the man made no sign that he took offense. It was late and he was just as eager to finish up here so he could get back to his own home. They followed a walkway that ran beneath the complex and split off into the courtyard with an access door with a series of metal mailboxes beside it. He demonstrated his talented use of keys by unlocking it and leading the way to an inner hallway with tacky purple patterned wallpaper and creaky floorboards. At the end was Room 108 just as promised. The room surpassed Chase's expectations. Carpeted in smokey gray with faded turquoise walls and furnished with both a simple wooden dining set and pair of brown leather couches, the 3 roomed apartment made for passable if not sickening.

Chase slowly inspected the rooms while the landlord stood uselessly in the doorway, looking more anxious by the second. He checked the pipes beneath the sinks, the doors and their latches, the windows especially. It hadn't been lived in for a month at least, strange, he hoped nothing was wrong with it that was beyond his perceptions. He looked at the old man curiously, tilting his head this way and that as if he could read it on his expression.

"Everything to your liking I take it?" asked the man meekly, taken aback by the man's thoroughness. He was also surprised to have such a well-dressed tenant take interest in his cheaper rooms.

"I'll be paying by the month as per our contract and I'd like to be informed several days in advance if an unexpected need to enter arises. That is correct?" Again it hardly seemed like a request.

"Yeah, by the month, no surprises. It's easier on everyone that way." The landlord knew this tenant wouldn't be here long. Fancy looking fellow was probably just waiting for a better deal to fall into his lap, though he wasn't making much room for conversation to ask. "Well here's your keys then, Mr. Ankers, rent's due on the 1st, I'll be seeing you around then?"

"Perhaps, thank you for your hospitality," replied Chase coolly as he took the keys in hand and promptly shut the door behind the landlord as he exited.

He was getting a bit thirsty now and was somewhat disappointed that this Daisy creature wasn't the one to meet him. He normally preferred a victim he could toy with beforehand and it felt so good to test his allure on the weak-minded. He would have to go out but not before he retrieved his luggage.

It only took a minute to haul the black box through the complex which was a walk in the park compared to the two miles he dragged it from the hotel. It didn't fit in a taxi or a bus and two miles wasn't that far, he supposed. He opened the box's locked latch with a key of his own and lifted the sleek black coffin out, standing it up and sliding it like furniture into the bedroom. He had already purchased a kit for modifying his Haven to prevent the invasion of sunlight during the day which sat neatly in the coffin when he opened it. For the next few minutes he had blacked out the windows with dense foam followed by wooden boards, duct tape, caulk, and a couple well-placed nails. It would do for now.

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The city lights rebounded off the overcast cloudline, a rarity in this climate, but it was late in the fall and the moisture tended to build up around then. The night air was a bit chilly too but hardly a concern for either vampire or mortal. People walked the streets light-hearted with laughter or stern with purpose, the general masses going about their business. This was the communal hunting grounds of Sacramento, as was detailed to him at the Eternal Court two evenings ago. He had last fed on the train ride from Boston, a grubby train-hopping backpacker, but even his Dragon Coils couldn't fend off the thirst for more than two days. He prowled for targets, passing by the empty Raley Field, home of the River Cats, empty since there was no game tonight. Approaching the river he began to walk over the Tower Bridge. There was a park just north of here that might have some easy prey, joggers or drug dealers pretending to be joggers. The tall buildings of the cityscape spread across the further side of the river like a wall of concrete and light. That was where the kindred of Sacramento hunted, his new stomping grounds.

A group of students walked by, at least he supposed they were students. They were young and paired up as couples. Chase could hear their conversations.
"This guy is supposed to be really funny, like real raunchy and perverse."
"Oh yeah, I watched some of his standup on youtube, he's good enough to be on tv. Hurry up or we won't get a seat!"
Chase turned, curious. He was standing outside a comedy club on the waterfront. He didn't like raunchy humor but he supposed that's what kids were into today. Not much else shocked and awed them, saturated in the exposure to an information society. He spotted a woman, alone waiting outside the club, dressed up in a nice plain dress and flashy earings, looking rather impatient and upset, close to tears in fact. Knowing a handout when he saw one he breathed deep activating the blood in his veins to assume the projection of mortality.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss, but I can't allow this to continue," he said in a voice laced with concern.

She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes wet and doe-like, a face with far too many freckles and orange curly hair. "W..what? What do you mean?" she asked timidly, under the impression she had done something wrong, like she had stood in some unmarked 'no standing zone'.

"I mean, I cannot allow such a young and pretty creature to go unescorted into a comedy club. Do you realize the implications? You think to yourself, 'oh this will cheer me up' and then suddenly he starts chatting up the crowd and low and behold you're suddenly the punchline of some dirty joke and no one around to defend you."

Her face went through a mirage of expressions, uncertain which one to choose. She was a bit abashed for being hit on in an emotional state, but also very eager to recover the self-esteem she had lost and desperate to recover what was left of her evening. "I..I," through gulping sobs that held back a tidal wave of emotion, "was supposed to come out with this guy, but it's been an hour waiting and he wouldnt answer his phone and then I just got a text telling me to stop bugging him, that he's actually out with someone else tonight. It's just so..."

"Enfuriating?" suggested Chase with a comforting pitch. "You'll find that for some men it's not even about hooking up with a girl, but just knowing that he could have if he wanted to. But he's not worth your aggrivation, my dear. You have but to pluck any man from the crowd and he's sure to fall on bended knee for your attention and company. You see, I'm somewhat the same in that I've no date for this evening and I too could use a good laugh. Would you permit me to sit with you, and allow me to defend you should a heckling comedian turn your way?"

The woman was torn obviously, turning her eyes heavenward as if she couldn't believe she was agreeing to spend her evening with some stranger she just met, but he seemed genuinely concerned and genuinely handsome and all they'd do is sit together in a crowded room. So she nodded and her emotions spent she replied levely, "I'm Sandy."
"Chase, a pleasure," he stated and offered his arm like a gentleman. She took it hesitantly and allowed him to take her into the club. He insisted on paying for the tickets and they found a table near the back. Apparently he was quite a popular comedian as the it was a crowded house, but they could still see and hear him just as well as they needed.

"So do you often pick up girls outside of comedy clubs, Mr. Chase?" asked Sandy probingly over the table.
"I'm not truly practiced in it. You won't find a more miserable bunch, I'm afraid. But you know, misery loves company so I thought I'd take a risk," he smiled reassuringly.
"It wasn't even my idea to come here, you know. It was my stupid...date. It just makes me so mad..."
"Completely understandable. You're a victim of circumstance but might as well make the most of it," the smile grew and oddly enough so did hers.

They watched the show from the safety of their table, the mood growing more relaxed and at ease. Eventually the laughter started, first as chuckles and muffled giggles then rising to crescendo in bales of howling tittering mirth. The laughter was contagious and soon both Chase and Sandy were surprised at themselves for getting caught up in it.

After an hour the two came outside amid the crowd still laughing and repeating sections of the standup back to each other. "Oh god, that was horrible!" exclaimed Sandy between snorts. "What kind of depraved mind would suggest putting something carbonated in...there?"
"Yes, but now that you've heard it you must be curious about it?"
"Nooo, you're just as impossible. Must be a guy thing, always curious about what other horrible things you can do to a girl," she said with a laugh, the joy ringing in the air.

He guided her as they conversed, without her quite realizing that they were turning off to more secluded streets. She felt safe in herself, the humor making all fear wash away. The world was a playland, her mind occupied in elation. His hand was more present on her shoulder, sometimes to her waist. She gave no complaint or acknowledgment, the words they shared a drug more effective than alcohol. Finally, as she became tired from their walk she slid up against the edge of an alleyway.
"So, what happens now, my savior?" showing the first sign of openly flirting.

Chase glanced around, a few lit windows still permeated the darkness along with streetlamps. A few feet further and they'd be in pitch black. "Now, my sweet companion, we share a calm and comforting moment in the peace and seclusion of the night."

"Well, aren't we a poet," she giggled softly, her voice dropping to a smooth whisper, "but you should know I don't kiss on the first da..." but he had already kissed her, pulling her against him, inching towards the darkness with her in tow, their mouths pressing over each other, lips sliding wet with the taste of flesh on their tongues. He pulled away a moment, sniffing the scent of her blood, eager for it. She took a breath, "Oh, you're so cold, baby..." was all she managed to say before he sunk his teeth into her neck.

The surge of warmth passing into his mouth irradiated his senses with ecstasy, drinking heavily from the 'lick', her eyes glazing over as her surprised expression turned to one of a trance-like state. He felt her pulse beating in rhythm, feeling its desire for him for his touch. She clutched at him, gasping slightly, her body tense. The river flowed into him, filling him, submerged in it before ripping himself away at its pinnacle.

A deep groan came up from his chest. Oh how exquisite. Give yourself to me, willing victim. You will always cherish me without knowing me, the lord of your dreams. Serve me through blood, fuel my journey through the night.

He licked the blood clean from her wound and set her down carefully against the alley wall. Then he went through her purse and checked to see her name and address. "Sandy Flinn, 410 U Street. Bit of a walk, Sandy, guess I'll be calling you a taxi." Glancing at the street signs he called the taxi service he tried earlier and relayed his general location. By the time the taxi arrived she had begun to stir from her trance. He helped her into the taxi while she made some soft mumbling that was incomprehensible. He paid the taxi driver to head to her address and then watched as they drove away.

Ah, well now that that was over, what else did this night have in store for him, he wondered.