He looked up. His prey was limp and dead in his arms. Her blood still dripped from his chin. He had thought the streets were somewhat deserted, yet he had heard the sound. Footsteps.

Wiping his face with his sleeve, the vampire dumped his prey unceremoniously into a garbage can. Then he started to creep down the alleyway, pulling himself along the wall, hand over hand, like she used to. He reached the end and peered around the corner. There was someone standing there. The someone was directly under the street lamp, the tall black hat it wore kept its face in shadow, making it impossible to tell age or gender. It wore a long black cloak of and almost, not-quite velvet texture. The vampire cocked his head to one side before stepping out into the street.

"Hallo," said the vampire. "What would a pretty thing like you be doing out here so late?" Since the vampire was not attracted to any human of any gender, he did not feel the slightest hesitation in flirting with a man. "It's dangerous when it's dark, you know."

"I do know," said the someone. It definitely had a male voice, though it was a tenor voice. The someone lifted a cane from within his cloak, twirled it once, and let it rest on his shoulders. "I can smell it from here. You're very sloppy, Ezarius."

The vampire cocked his head the other way at the sound of his name. "Do I know you?" he asked. He felt a twinge of uncertainty, but no fear. He had only been threatened once before by her, and she was certainly not here now.

The someone nodded, and his white-gloved hand tightened around the cane. "I believe I know you," he said. "You may not remember me, though. It seems long ago to me."

Ezarius centered his head on his neck and leaned forward, shoulders arched. "From where are we acquainted?" he inquired.

The someone began to walk forward. He left the light from his street lamp and into the light of the next, revealing his face. It was young, twenty or so, and long, black hair kept falling into his eyes. When Ezarius saw the eyes, he knew he remembered. The eyes were violet, deep and clear and light all at the same time. They seemed to pierce you, go through you, and there had never been innocence in them.

"Now I know you," said the vampire, straightening and tilting his head down at the young man. "You've grown up quite a bit since then, you know."

"I do know," said the young man. "It was twenty years ago. I was five."

"Ah, yes," said Ezarius. "Humans grow faster than vampires, it's true. Well, young Dialus, I do feel terrible about your evading me then only to die now."

"I will not die tonight," the boy said. "I may not even kill you tonight, if you'll permit me."

The vampire laughed. "You? Kill me? A whelp like you? Well, at least you're not as cowardly as you were, but I still doubt that bravery alone will save you."

"I come as a messenger," he said. "From HER."

Ezarius narrowed his eyes. "Don't fuck with me, boy," he hissed. "She's dead. I watched her die."

"Wrong," said Dialus. "She's very much alive." He smiled and turned his back to the vampire, walking away into the night and swinging his cane. "She's watching you," he said in a sing-song voice. And then he was gone.