Michael's body craved blood. He had been working non-stop for the last few nights, cross-referencing, writing, communicating with his colleagues. He needed to get that grant to break away from relative powerty in which he lived since his Embrace. And that was why he had neglected feeding for far too long.

When he left home he probably looked like a walking corpse. Which wasn't far from the truth.

First a dog, then - a human.

It took him half an hour to reach one of the spots where stray dogs sometimes appeared in the city. And it took him a great effort of will to not drain the poor thing completely after convincing it to get closer with the power of his Blood.

And he was still quite hungry. Not enough to impair his judgement, but enough to understand that he might as well continue with the hunting.

Michael didn't command an especially strong presence or some kind of amazing beaty. But he was a Doctor of History and with some people it could get you farther than looks or natural charm.

And so he hunted students. Preferrably female. Preferrably slumped over an assignment in some cafe struggling with some obscure (for them) academic problem, ready to accept any kind of help as long it didn't entail having sex with the helper later. And that definitely wasn't needed anymore. Not that he didn't enjoy it, even in undeath, but there were other, more interesting things to do with eternity instead of seducing young women with your knowledge of Roman road-building.

He saw her in a small caffee by the road. Thick books on the table, half-empty cup of coffee, hunched over a notebook and trying to concentrate hard enough to finish her essay.

"I hope you understand that you are completely wrong in assuming such similarities between the French Revolution and the Russian Revolution of 1917. Although the reasons were somewhat similar both the ideologies and consequences were completely different." - he says approaching the girl.

"What? Who are you?" - she looks somewhat bewildered and a lot more drowsy. Must have stayed behind after a session of brain-storming the assignment.

"A bored historian who desperately needs to refresh his memory on the topic of social change." - he gives her a warm smile and pulls a chair to her table. She is far too distracted and desperate to question him, which is good.

And after that it is only a question of technique. Help, explain, teach, offer to walk her home because it's late. Eat, wait, tell her she fainted and probably shouldn't study that much.

Really, it's just an exchange, nothing more. You give me blood and I give you knowledge.