Dasvidanya

"Another disappearance," my ever-so-intelligent colleague announced, throwing a newspaper at me.

"Great," I replied, pushing the newspaper on the floor and continuing with my writing. I sensed Jess standing at a loss for words. She hated it when I would blow her off. I don't really know the reason she was surprised by my response. She'd always thought I was odd. Uncaring was part of that.

"Let's get some light in here," she said impulsively. "We need it to be brighter." Self-centered child who loves the sun on her golden blonde hair she was.

"No," I snapped, glaring at her. "Do not open the curtains. Do not go near the curtains." I still do not know the reason for a window in my room.

She backed off instantly. "Fine, fine…" Her eyes were wide, somewhat terrified and suspicious of me. She stared for a second before quietly leaving.

It was only five-thirty. I kept working, but a seemingly short while later, I heard a scream and a long, disgusted, "Eew, GROSS."

I ran from my room to Jess's.

"Niki!" she whined at me. "I'm bleeding!"

I looked at her hand. Indeed she was. I swallowed slightly. "Okay, hold on."

"I hate blood! Especially mine!"

"Understatement," I mumbled. I went to get something to clean her "wound" with, and shortly I was able to go back to my work, after a tearful "thank you" from Jess.

I checked my watch. Seven in the evening. Only a few hours before pure, divine dark. The hour I love. When nine-thirty came, I saved my work, shut down my computer, and went to find something to wear, sexy and stylish, of course. As we did every evening, Jess and I would go out to one of our favorite clubs, only the best, to dance our butts off. Right at the moment I stood up, Jess zipped in, hyper as usual. Damn her sixth sense about me.

"Ready to go?" I looked her over. Tight black jeans, tight red top, blond hair clipped back. She did have a decent sense of style.

"Not quite." I hastily picked out my black top with silver clasps and my tight black leather pants. Always a favorite of mine, especially when I added my black wristbands. I was changed with my hair set perfectly within minutes. "Okay, let's go."

Off for another night of fun.
The next afternoon, when I finally woke up, there was a newspaper sitting next to me on my bed. The first word I saw was "disappearance".

Jess came into my room, her sixth sense letting her know I was awake. I shudder to think what she might know of me due to that sense. "That disappearance was at the same club we were at last night."

After freezing for what I hoped was an unnoticed second, I replied airily, "Coincidence."

She raised an eyebrow. "Right." Was that a nervous look I saw mixed in? Shit. Nervous equals suspicion.

Jess left and I slowly got up. It would all blow over, I was sure. Or at least I thought I was sure. She'd eventually ignore it. I hoped.

As usual, I spent the afternoon and evening working, right up to nine-thirty when I got ready, and Jess and I went out. She was unexpectedly distant and bitchy. Odd. She was almost always in a good mood.

The next day was very similar. Horrible mood, distant, and rude. I cautiously approached.

"Jess, what's up? This isn't like you."

She glared up from her magazine. "Go away, Devil's Child."

Ouch. "Devil's Child" was reserved for those she was thoroughly pissed at, being that she was strict Catholic and all. What was wrong with her? I had no explanation. Having nothing else to do, I pulled my dark, red-brown-gold hair off my neck and went to work

I was early that night for clubbing. For some reason I had gotten ready nearly and hour early. She was ready late. Fifteen minutes late, to be exact. When I finally screamed at her to say I was going to leave her, she bolted from her room. As if bother of us weren't already suspicious of the other. I looked carefully at here. There were tear streaks on her face and here eyes were red.

"Jess… are you okay?"

She rubbed her eyes a little. "Yeah, just let me wash my face, then I'll be ready, okay, Niki?"

I nodded faintly. This was not a good sign.

If I hadn't already been annoyed with Jess, as well as suspicious of her, I might not have wanted to kill her that evening. The bitch blonde hung on me the whole evening.

"Hey Jess, why don't I go get us some drinks?" I was trying in vain to get rid of my leech.

"I'll come." She started to follow me. Damn it.

"Well, only one of us really needs to go." I stopped. Go Jess; just go by yourself, I thought.

"Then let's both go sit down for a while," she said, clearly determined not to leave me. Trapped.

I very reluctantly agreed and we headed across the floor. All the while I plotted how to get rid of her.

A little while later, I stood, saying, "I'm headed out to dance more." Stay, girl, stay. Please stay.

"I'm ready too," she said quickly, standing up to follow me. She still looked tired, but determined.

"Great." I faked a smile. I turned around and a glare crossed me face. I had to get rid of her.

But I had no choice but to let her follow, and continue dancing to lure someone in. It was difficult to do so with a leech grinding practically on me.

"Jess, if you don't cut it out, I may have to kiss you." She backed off, then stalked away. She was very homophobic, and my sexual, mind-in-the-gutter comments always pissed her off. Works like a charm every time.


With my leech gone, baiting some poor idiot was much easier. When one had found his way almost into my pants, I started playing him to believe I desperately wanted him. "Let's go out back," four minutes later was all it took. I glanced around as we were leaving. Jess glared at me disapprovingly from across the room. Shit. I couldn't turn around now, but she'd seen me.

The man looked ready to strip, right in the middle of a damp, cold, New York back alley. How do I always manage to find a complete idiot who's hornier than the devil? I gestured for him to come closer. He obeyed like the good dog he was. I leaned in, as if to whisper sweet bullshit in his ear, my usual tactic. Centimeter fangs grew, and sank into his neck. Sweet, warm blood flooded my mouth. I was so immersed in my meal that I didn't hear the door open. However, I did hear the stifled scream. I dropped my now-dead victim and whirled around, wiping blood off my face.

Jess stood by the door, clearly horrified, but relatively composed.

"I knew it," she said softly. "Everything adds up. You hate light, you sleep till three in the afternoon, at least, you never eat, you go out clubbing every single night, you refused the beach trip in Jamaica, and every single disappearance was at the same club we'd been at.

"I've read everything about vampires. I knew your signs. Slayers know this stuff." She slipped a garlic clove out of her pocket. An angry look had by now crossed her face. "You!" she suddenly screamed. "It was you who did this! A Devil's child you are, no doubt."

I sneered, knowing the image of myself with that particular look and a blood covered face. "No shit, it was I. I'm surprised the Catholic Saint with her sixth sense didn't figure it out earlier. But as a Catholic Saint you'll know that garlic is worthless, and you'll know what vamps to do those who find them out."

Jess dropped the clove. "Vampires to what do their victims…?"

"Niki!" A high-pitched scream and a sweet taste of blood.

Dasvidanya, adieu, my Jess.