Streetlamps and neon signs illuminate the busy downtown avenue Heathcliff finds himself on tonight. He watches so many people walk by, blissfully unaware that he is, reluctantly, choosing which person he will stalk and feed from. The Beast is close, anxious for the rare indulgence of human blood, and Heathcliff knows he can't procrastinate forever. I better get this right, he thinks, I've already got the police sniffing around, not to mention Arnold might just end me if I can't hunt on my own without getting into trouble.

...he's been walking up and down the same six blocks for half an hour before he realizes that no one has made eye contact with him, which isn't terribly unusual, but he also hasn't noticed anyone looking quickly away to avoid his gaze, either. And he begins to wonder...Can they see me? A middle-aged couple walking arm approach, and he starts walking backward in front of them, waving his hands in front of their faces, and...nothing. They don't notice him at all. Heathcliff steps away to allow them to pass, and laughs to himself. I did it. I'm invisible. Oh, the possibilities...

Heathcliff, grinning like he hadn't since he was a carefree undergrad, stumbles upon a charismatic, young street hustler running the cup game. If I watch him long enough, I bet I can figure out how he does it... Heathcliff leans on the wall behind him and watches his hands intently. They move so fast, it's hard to see, but, after a couple of hours, Heathcliff gets the general idea.

The crowds have begun to clear out, and the young entrepreneur reluctantly folds up his table and takes his shortcut back to the garage he parked in, a short series of alleys. Heathcliff follows close behind, and as he feels his Vitae invigorate his muscles, he pounces. As the man falls, the neonate slips an arm around his neck and applies a chokehold. The hustler tries to buck Heathcliff off of him, but the vampire's strength overwhelms him. Just go to sleep, man, and this'll all be over...

"What the fuck, man!?! Wuudufuhh..." The man's eyes grow wide with terror before rolling back into his head. Heathcliff quickly relinquishes his hold and confirms that he's resumed breathing before descending on the con man's jugular and taking his sweet blood..."You're a predator," he hears Arnold tell him, and his heart sinks, the enthusiasm he had felt earlier ebbing...

Several moments pass, then Heathcliff pulls away, his fangs retracting as his tongue passes over the wound, removing any evidence of his theft. Heathcliff props him up against the alley wall and vanishes...

...later on, in his apartment, Heathcliff sets up his own cup game, and tries to develop his own sleight of hand abilities. Even knowing what he's supposed to be doing, it's hard to convince his hands and fingers to do their part, but practice makes perfect...