Ulysses couldn't believe he was doing this. It was dangerous for both of them, and maybe she didn't know it was him, so there could be nothing to do with him about her being a Kindred…thus exposing himself to her like this would be totally reckless. He used a mask after that night, that should have been a remedy enough.

Eventually, he still decided to come and look for her, and he was so glad that he did. He couldn't imagine the consequences if he hadn't been there at the gallery.

He jumped across several roofs, carrying Leona, until he found a safe, empty storage place and put her in there. He was hesitant about whether to just leave her here or not, but when the image of those bruises and blood on her face was projected into his eyes, he just couldn't help but grit in wrath.

Camarilla bureaucrats. How could they put a new-born Childe…put her through this? And then he started to blame Leona for a little, couldn't understand why she did this to herself. Didn't she know this was no child play, not some dark romance in TV shows? Ulysses stood at the entrance of this warehouse, wrestling with his mind, like a father that was both hurting and angry for his battered daughter, who didn't listen to him and ran away with bad guys.

But all these conflicting thoughts stopped when he heard coughs behind him. She was awake. Ulysses glanced back, seeing her open her eyes and turn her head towards him, as if trying to make out who he was.

He realized his one last chance of leaving was gone. Now he couldn't walk away, not with her watching him like this.

Ulysses calmed himself down, forced his face back to his usual coldness, and returned to Leona's side. He kneeled, thought for a while, then sat down on the ground and helped her up with his arms, took out all the blood bags he had on him, bit one open and put it beside her mouth.

But Leona wasn't interested in food even for one bit. She raised her arm, reached to his mask and touch the edge of it, with her eyes fixed on his face. Ulysses knew she was trying to take his mask down, but she was so weak that she couldn't even grip her fingers properly, so her attempts ended up soft strokes across the wolf face, leaving an trail of red.

He tried to ignore Leona's doing and directly dump the blood into her lips, but she didn't swallow it, just kept putting her fingers back on his mask. She had always been a stubborn girl.

So Ulysses gave in, sighed and took off his mask himself. He was now Zack again.

She already knew. If she knew…then it was all his fault.

"Drink." He said, again squeezed the blood in between her teeth. His voice was still chilly just as always, but somehow gentle and comforting, like the ice used on swollen skin.

Leona froze for a moment, looking at his face with her lips shaking, as if she was trying to say something. But probably because the excessive hunger and tiredness, she didn't react further, just kept her head down, took that bag of blood into her own hands, and sucked it up, little by little. Her fingers sank deep into the plastic package, and deeper into her palms. Finally, she couldn't hold it anymore.

She sobbed. First it was merely the convulsive breath and the snivels in and out through her nose, then the whimper came, too, from her throat, and louder and louder, until it was totally uncontrollable, with tears all over her face, like a kid who felt wronged about the critics she was receiving.

"I'm…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry Zack…" Leona curled up her body, kept wiping her eyes messily with her sleeves, couldn't even speak a complete sentence, "What have I done…what have I done…"

Simply unable to bear and deal with her crying, not knowing what to do, Zack tried to help her cleared up those tears, but she just pushed him away, tried to tidy herself up repeatedly and failed. All those maturity, tolerance and composure she put up before others for so long crushed in an instant, because those defences were just that fragile in front of him.

"I'm not blaming you." So he said. How could he?

But Leona meant it. Without the need to convince herself to accept anything right now, she finally realized what she gave up and what she got in return—She could have just thought it was an illusion she saw in Chicago that night, left it, moved on, got the promotions she was due, saved the money to buy a big house, then Zack would just be a treasured memory, and if…she ever had her own family, he could also be a story she shared.

Instead, she had this. They were both now stuck in this…incubus.

The notion of this cruel reality calmed her down, like a bucket of cold water right on her face. She took a few breaths, finished her drink and picked up another bag, gaining her rationality back, and asked: "How did you…become this?"

Seeing her get some strength and no longer need his support, Zack sat straight, pondered for a second and replied: "After sending you away, I…waited for them at the house. I took them all down so that no one came after you, but I was dying, too…then somehow she found me before I was totally out."

"Your Sire?"

"Yes. Reverence Lucia, leader of Lasombra clan in America." Zack sneered, finding the appellation "Reverence" quite an irony, "She just turned me without asking, and before I realized it was done. I didn't have a choice. She said she need a professional."

Leona's face darkened. That's what they all said when they approached him. So she looked up at him, went to her topic directly:

"How do you get out of the Sabbats?" She assumed that since it was an organization—based on what others told her—there would always be a way to leave it.

But Zack laughed upon her question, bitterly: "You think it would be that easy? They've been doing this for forever, and they have a way to make sure you won't betray them…The Reverence feeds me her blood every month and blood-bounds me like a ghoul, even if I don't want to take it, she will just force me. That's what this blood-bound's for."

"Then we run." Leona persisted.

"We tried to run before, remember? And we failed." Zack looked at the dying light of hope in Leona's eyes, almost felt guilty of telling her this, "If we couldn't even outrun humans, how are we supposed to outrun these…monsters?"

But this was the cold fact, Leona knew that. For seven years Zack must have tried everything he could, more than Leona could imagine. Came to think of it, she didn't even know she could survive that long like he did.

Then…that was it? She did all this for…nothing?

No. No way.

"I will find a way…" Leona said, but even she couldn't believe herself.

"Stop. Stop thinking about saving me, think about how to survive." Zack held her head to let her face him, "Now that you are already here, there's no reversing for this vampire thing, so just pass this test, go back to your clan, find a job and some allies, but don't get into troubles and don't stand out, do you understand?"

To his surprise, Leona wasn't really paying attention. She just stared at him, and tears in her eyes have stopped dropping out, for she just realized she forgot one very important thing, and she smiled:

"Nothing." She shook her head, "It's just…nice to see you again."

Even with his bloody eyes and pale skin, he's still that same guy, so eager to lecture her about what to do and full of worries. When he did that, the little Leona would sometimes get impatient, replied "Yes mom" and walked away, and Zack would exactly hold her face like right now to force her to listen. That was the only way to keep that bullheaded little girl listening.

Zack was a bit startled at first, then he thought of the same thing. He smiled, too, though not as natural as Leona's—hadn't smiled like that for seven years, he felt very…out of practice.

"God, you've grown." And he exclaimed.

They both laughed a little, then quickly the storage house went back to silence again. Zack stood up, strolled back to the entrance and paused, said:

"Don't die, I don't want to lose my family again…and the name now is Ulysses."

Putting back that silver face of wolf, Ulysses walked out of the door, and before long, Mercurio drove his car here by tracking Leona's cell phone signal. He walked into and was astonished at the damages to her body—though he was already looking at her much better shape, gasped and asked: "What the hell happened?"

He should have asked the tech guy to stream the real footage onto his laptop, too, when he paid him to rewind the security cameras. Mercurio regretted a little bit. Otherwise he could have come sooner and knew what happened…he just didn't expect it to be that bad.

"Hell happened." Leona stood up, "There was some…angry spirit in that painting. I killed it, and I needed some rest, so I came here."

"Really? Did you destroy the painting, then? Did the guard notice…"

"No…it all sort of happened inside the painting, so there was no fight in the gallery, and no, I didn't destroy it since it's already safe without the spirit—in that way it's better, I think, people won't notice anything happened."

"Then how did you…"

"I'm tired." Leona stumbled out of the warehouse, leaned on his car, gave him a weak, heart-rending smile, "Can we talk about this tomorrow night?"

Mercurio didn't question her further, just helped her onto the front seat and took her away. This was a quite fancy, well-maintained Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione he was driving, and Leona's blood was all over the interior, but he didn't complain, just asked if she needed some patch-up, only to find out she was fast asleep, and literally carried Leona back to her haven in her dream.

She was having a really weird dream.