She exited the precinct into the back parking lot. Thankfully, there did not seem to be anyone else around. Immediately, she saw Vachon, leaning casually against the front fender of her car, concentrating on the coin he was repeatedly tossing skyward and then catching.

Why am I so nervous about seeing him again?  She took a slow, deep breath. "Thanks for coming by on such short notice," she said, announcing her arrival, as if he could not hear her boots crunching over the ice on the ground.

Short notice? Overdue is more like it.  "You forget: time is relative," he replied offhandedly. She had left so suddenly that night, with only a quick, "I gotta go. I'll call you later, okay?" She never had called... well, not until tonight. If he lived another five hundred years, he doubted he would ever understand women!

Time is relative? What the hell did he mean by that?  She sighed silently. Just stick to business, Trace.  "The guy who owns the Raven, LaCroix..."

"Uh-huh?" Uh-oh! Don't go there, Trace. You do not want to know anything about LaCroix. 

"We got a tip about a murder there. All we found was LaCroix and a victim whose head had been severed from its body. We're holding LaCroix as a material witness."

Tracy turned when she heard the door to the precinct open. When she turned back, Vachon was gone.

Dammit, Vachon!  She sighed in resignation. Why do I bother? 

Before heading back inside, she glanced around one last time. That's when she caught the glint of something on the ground at her feet. She bent down and picked up a coin - the coin Vachon had been intently flipping, just moments before. It was a Loony, a one-dollar piece, and he had just dropped it without a second thought before taking off.

Well, no one could ever accuse Vachon of being a skinflint!  Tracy shook her head slightly. Behind her, a sudden, sharp, double-rap against glass her made her jump. It was Vachon - inside  her car. How does he always manage to get past locked doors anyway? 

Vachon flashed a quick smile at her as he beckoned her inside. He thought that the extreme temperature must certainly be bothering her. "It's warmer in here," he called through the windshield. And far more private. 

Tracy climbed into her car. As soon as she had shut the door, she blurted, "Is LaCroix one of you?" Oh, God! Do I really want to know the answer to that? 

How did I know she was going to ask me that? What can I tell her? LaCroix will have my head if I tell her the truth. So lie, Vachon, it won't be the first time. Oh, but I hate to lie to her. How important is it that she know? LaCroix certainly wouldn't have left a body lying around if he had murder someone. He can't possibly be the killer they're looking for. Besides, Nick already knows about LaCroix, so... sorry, Trace. 

"No."

"Well, there was something there. It was a presence. It felt... evil." Yeah, evil. I'm sure of it. The captain felt it, too. If it wasn't LaCroix, then what was it? 

Great, Jav, now what do you tell her?  "Tracy, it's natural to get a little rattled by severed heads." Oops, I shouldn't have said that. 

Tracy rolled her eyes at Vachon. Why does he do that?  "Don't run me around here, Vachon. You know what I mean. Evil's a part of you." I saw it that night last week at the church. His eyes had gone that feral yellow colour after he'd kissed her. I should have been frightened that a simple kiss would do that to him, but I wasn't. Oh, God, how I wanted him at that moment. Yeah, and that's what terrified me! What am I gonna do? How can I have a relationship with a vampire and expect to stay alive? 

"Maybe that's why we'd never work."

Vachon was stunned. What was she talking about? Last week? That kiss? And what a kiss it had been! It was the first time since they'd met that she hadn't been the one to pull away. The first time she gave as good as she got. Oh, the adrenaline rush adding spice to her sweet blood, the quick pounding of her heart, the desire plain in her eyes... sublime. And now she says I'm evil? Like that makes any sense? 

"What?"

"It's in you. I can feel it. And it scares me." It scares me that it makes me want you even more.  The memory of his lips on hers flashed through her mind; followed by the image of those eyes. The eyes of a predator - wild, dangerous, unpredictable. Alert, intelligent, powerful.  She felt a complete honesty from him when he was like that; no veiled emotions, no hidden thoughts. Not like those fathomless brown eyes he usually wore, the eyes that hid all from her. Like a hundred acre wood I could easily get lost in. 

It scares her?  I scare her? No, that definitely wasn't fear I saw the other night.  "What's that got to do with what happened at the Raven?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I was hoping you could tell me." Why did I say that to him? How could I have told him he was evil? You are screwing this up so badly, girl. 

Tell you? Tell you how much I care about you? How much I wish I could show you how deeply I care? How much I want to hold you, kiss you, be with you as only mortals can?  He reached over and stroked her chin with his thumb in the most tender and intimate of ways. I'm so sorry if I hurt you, if I scared you, if I wanted more than you could give.  A small, sweet smile graced his lips.

"Sorry."

Bewildered by the reason for his touch, Tracy's hand instinctively closed over his. She almost pulled away, but suddenly an odd feeling clutched at her heart. But was it fear... or confusion...? No.  Was it... foreboding?

"Will you do me a favour?"

He smiled tenderly at her. Despite everything, I'll do anything I can. All you need to do is ask. And, maybe, one day you'll ask me to do the one thing I've wanted to do since I first met you. 

"Sure. Anything."

I fling that accusation at him, throw up that wall, and this is how he responds: with a smile, saying he'll do anything? God! Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I doing this to him? Well, what are you going to ask him? Huh, Tracy? Never to touch you again? Because you're afraid? Afraid that you'll give in to what you're really feeling for this guy? Afraid that you'll get yourself in too deep? Well, go on then. Tell him never to stroke your hair, never to caress your chin, never to kiss you. Tell him that you don't want to want him as badly as you do, because you don't know if you're strong enough to give him everything he really wants. Go on... 

"...Uh, give me a call when you get home."  Chicken! 

He knew that couldn't possibly be the favour. Will I ever figure out what runs through that pretty, blonde head of yours, Tracy Vetter? OK, one last chance to say something, querida. Well, anything? Nope? All right, then; maybe next time. 

He got out of the car and waved. No hard feelings.  "See ya later." And then he walked into a patch of shadow before taking to the air.