Back home once more, I cleaned up the mess the guests had made and polished a few scuff marks in the wood floor until it shone. I really find it hard to concentrate unless everything is perfect. I put up with it for my friends, but it is really disruptive for my concentration.

Once that was done, I went to the local market for some more food. I eat quite a bit, and having a shifter guest isn't going to lower the household food intake. The checkout girl gave me an odd look as I picked up the bags and carried them all out. The weight was hardly noticeable, but the bulk made it very awkward. Still, the odd looks would have been worse if I had used my telekinesis to float the bags in a line behind me. These days, most people just had their groceries delivered, but I had to do things the hard way without a computer or a reliable vid terminal. Maybe I should bring a pallet and tell everyone it’s a lev disk.

As I walked through the door, I saw Jeremy had let himself in and made himself at home. I groaned to myself at the thought of more housework later that night when I could be researching the new circles I had seen. I should get a housekeeper, but I can barely tolerate my friends touching my things, let alone a stranger. A robot would work, but even if it didn't blow up the first day from the ambient mystic energy, the brain-dead AIs that are the only ones legal these days would likely break more things than it fixed.

Throwing off my mood, I mustered a smile and greeted him. “Did you get it?”

“Hello to you too,” he grimaced.

“Yeah, whatever,” I teased him as I set the groceries down in the kitchen and started to put them away. I also started the oven; Jeremy would probably be hungry, and Mei would want a meal too. Shifters always want a meal.

“I got it,” he continued. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I gave him a skeptical look. “I admit I have no qualms about killing a vampire assassin, but if you want to keep the human death count down to zero, I don't have a better idea.” I looked him in the eye, and he started to fidget uncomfortably before glancing away. “Do you have a better idea?”

“No,” he muttered quietly.

I quietly prepared and placed the turkey in the oven and then went over to the tiny sphere the size of my thumbnail Jeremy had placed on the counter. I grimaced when I picked it up, tightening the shields on my aura as much as I could. I really didn't get along with most technology, but it made things a bit easier once in a while. Looking at the object, I suddenly realized that I needed something to keep it in place. Looking around the kitchen, my sight fell upon some mesh that had held some of the fruit. Nodding to myself, I grabbed it and walked outside. Jeremy looked like he might follow, but I asked him to stay inside for his own peace of mind. He glanced at me gratefully as he turned around and went back into the house.

I walked over to the neighboring house and entered inside. No one greeted me. This was to be expected since I had bought all the homes in the area. These houses all had maid service for the nonexistent people that lived in them. The houses were listed for sale, but no offers were accepted. I liked my privacy.

I walked into the barren kitchen, down to the basement, and found the bagged parts of the vampire. It was a minor miracle the body hadn't turned into mist and floated away. It was probably due to the ward I affixed to the floor or the airtight bags, but I was just guessing. I had planned on simply dunking the pieces into a barrel of holy water, but my new idea necessitated that this assassin live. Frankly, this gave me the creeps since the bloodsucker had come so close to cutting my life short. Outside of a dragon that had dwarfed me in age and power, I had never come closer to death than last night. I may be brash and perhaps a bit overconfident, but I would remember that lesson for a bit. My cheek had completely healed, and my index finger had almost reformed, but the memory stayed fresh.

I ripped open the bag containing the torso and used the assassin's own blade to open the abdominal cavity. I suppose I could have just used my psychic surgery trick to place the device, but I wasn't feeling charitable. I used the netting to tie the sphere in place around the organs. I twisted it all around and tied it off. Many supernatural creatures regenerate quickly. This regeneration includes regrowing limbs and expelling foreign objects from the body. I reached into my coat pocket and poured a dash of silver nitrate inside the stomach opening. Hopefully, the combination of silver, impure though it was, and the netting would slow the process down enough to get this to work.

Once I was done with my grisly task, I unbagged the head and placed it next to the body. Once the night had fallen, the corpse's limbs would doubtless transform to mist, the parts rejoin and merge. The torso never showed any indication it was going into a gaseous state, so it was all theory and guesswork. It was my plan that the vampire simply think I was ignorant of how difficult it was to permanently put an ancient vampire down.

I washed my bloodied hands in the upstairs kitchen and thought about the next part of the plan. Looking at the dagger the vampire had almost killed me with, I sighed in sadness. It was a beautiful piece of work. Runes ran the length of the blade and glowed a soft blue even in the daylight. The hilt formed a tightly coiled serpent with the snake’s head open and hissing at the pommel. It was so detailed, it looked like it would spring and bite me. Since it was a rune blade, I didn't rule that out. Like Mei's more powerful sword, it was a rune blade created millennia ago. Probably by dwarves. They didn't seem to be around in this world anymore, but they seemed to have left some very nice things behind. Nice enough that it almost killed me. I stepped outside and moved to where the final confrontation had taken place. Bracing myself, I flipped the dagger straight up and let it land with its blade fully embedded in the sidewalk. The vampire would reform and go looking for the dagger. If I still had it, he may think it valuable enough to attack me once more before he had fully healed. That would put a kink in the plan.

I would miss it, though. I admit that I am not a knife fighter, but it was certainly more elegant than my own youthful weapon selection. You begin to appreciate elegance as you get older. It also crossed my mind that if I one day found this blade embedded in my heart, I would only have myself to blame. With that disturbing thought, I reluctantly walked back to my home. I seemed to be walking away from a lot of magic lately for someone that puts so much energy into finding the damn stuff.

I checked the turkey, and it looked like it was cooking a wee bit slow. I frowned at the meal. I had thought about trying to develop my latent pyrokinesis abilities, for cooking if nothing else, but never had the time to focus on the less well-traveled psionic disciplines. With my segue into the mystical arts, I may never have the opportunity.

So I waited for the food, and I sat down in my favorite chair while Jeremy watched the news in the next room and used his phone to track things down. It was subtle, yet I noticed that the holographic terminal on his wrist would be shut off whenever I entered the room. Obviously, he didn't want to repair another defunct device around me. Occasionally, out of the corner of my eye, I would see his device’s tiny holographic emitter and the images of the tiny humans he spoke to. I did my best to ignore it. If I looked at it wrong, it would just self-destruct.

I was getting ready to go down to the basement to try a variation of one of the minor circles I know, based on what I had gleaned from seeing the zombie king's circles and some exciting books on ancient Nordic runes I had just been examining when the food timer went off. Looking out the window as I finished the dinner preparations, I saw the sun going down. I sped up my work. I didn't want to leave on an empty stomach.

Jeremy and I were just finishing the meal when his phone started buzzing. I glanced over at it, then at Jeremy. He walked to the other side of the room and fiddled with the interface for a bit, then looked at me and nodded. “Looks like he's on the move.”

“Already,” I whistled. “He must be older than I thought to recover from...” I caught myself from going into too many unpleasant details. “...what happened to him.” I just hoped his regeneration doesn't pop out the tracker before it does its job.

A knock came from the front door, and I have to admit I looked over at the floating holographic image Jeremy was studying intently. I didn't understand a thing I saw, but Jeremy seemed to understand my intent. “It's not him. He's already halfway across town.”

I had kind of figured a vampire assassin wouldn't knock, but it was good to be sure. Perhaps it was Conrad.

I opened the door. It wasn't Conrad. “Oh, hello, er...” I jogged my memory to recall the fellow's name. “Eric. Welcome back.” The young vampire was restored to his normal pallid complexion, so the wards’ effects seemed to have worn off. I gestured for him to enter. Maybe this trial, I should time the onset of the effects. That may give me a baseline idea of how strong the wards are. I could invite Eric over if I change something and see how long the appearance of the rashes takes. I looked over to the kitchen clock to note the time.

“So, what brings you here?” I asked as I went into the kitchen to load up my plate. Eric followed me, seemingly unsure of where he should be. When I walked past him with a heaping plate of turkey and a tall glass of milk, he trailed me like a kite on a string. I may have just had a meal, but if I had to talk to the vampire neophyte again, I might as well enjoy a second helping. It's not as if I'll ever run out of room. When we got to the living room, I gestured for him to sit on the couch while sitting in my usual chair. Jeremy looked at me oddly but went back to fiddling with his phone after watching me eat for a time.

“Well,” I grunted as I stuffed my face. “Why are you here?” I asked again.

“The master of the city has asked for your presence,” the vampire told me somewhat hesitantly.

“Has he agreed to give me the resources we would need to track down the nodes?” I prodded.

“I don't know,” Eric admitted reluctantly.

I stopped eating and stared at Eric. His skin had already begun breaking out, and although he didn't really need to breathe, his was coming at a rapid rate. He must be very young. It was apparent that I wasn't going to get any answers from him. I was getting the feeling he was less of a messenger and more of a canary in the coal mine. I would lay odds that he was unimportant in the extreme and probably not very well-liked. Of course, if I was correct, it also meant his leader had an idea I wasn't human.

“When does the master want my presence?” I asked thoughtfully before taking a slug of my milk.

“Tonight at midnight.”

I exchanged looks with Jeremy. That might be a bit tight for my schedule, but vampire participation was vital if we wanted to canvas the city properly. As I understood it, the shifter and vampire population stayed in their own territories and weren't welcome in another's except in extraordinary circumstances. I wasn't aware of any other significant supernatural presence in the city, so we should cover the entire town between the two groups.

“Okay. Where?”

“Tower Plaza. The receptionist will let security know you’re there.”

I grunted to myself. The Tower Plaza was a monolithic complex just on the other side of the Blight. The area itself was for the extremely wealthy, but it overlooked the worst part of town. Pretty much an example of contrasts. I hadn’t realized that the vampires owned it.

“Tell him I'll be there.”

“Of course you will be,” he said with an arrogant look. It didn't match his now blotchy and swollen face, so it was difficult to be offended, but it did do much to support my theory on his popularity.

I scooped up the last of my dinner and walked to the door. “Perhaps I'll see you later tonight, but I have a lot to do before I meet your master.”

“Of course. Until then,” he stood up and may have tried to stroll out the door gracefully. He swayed dizzily, caught his balance, and staggered outside. I liked those changes I made to the wards.

As I closed the door behind him, Jeremy spoke up for the first time since our unannounced guest. “Why do I get the feeling you didn't like him?”

“Must be your undeveloped psychic powers.” The lanky detective just stared at me a moment. “Okay, I guess I wasn't very subtle.” I brought the used plate and glass to the sink and started cleaning. “Where I come from, vampires are a lot more bloodthirsty. Not mindless, but you may call them evil,” I said quietly. Jeremy listened from the door, temporarily putting his toy down. “I know local undead aren't the same, but I'll wait to see how different. The only ones I have had actual contact with are a super ninja and a guy that has to have been brought over in the last few weeks.

“It also occurred to me that our Eric was sent here to test the waters and see exactly how dangerous I am.”

“Well, you are going to see the master of the city,” Jeremy stated.

“Yeah, speaking of which... how screwed are we?”

“It could be worse. Our fellow moves real fast. He is already across the city. He stopped a few times.” Jeremy handed me a paper with several addresses. “Right now, he's at a Mountain High building.” It seemed today was the day to see the wealthy. Mountain High was another complex for the ridiculously rich. It wasn't anywhere near the Blight, and rumor had it that the private security also policed the blocks around the complex to ensure undesirables didn't wander in and bother the residents. It was possibly the safest, most law-abiding area in the city. The irony was killing me.

“So, this is where Kingston may be?” I questioned.

“No guarantees. However, the building he is in right now is owned by an Edward Prince.”

“I think that makes it a good bet. I vaguely remember being proud of that name,” I muttered. Most of the specifics of my time holding Kinston's memories were gone, but some generalities remained. I really would not be surprised if he chose a variation of royalty to reenter society. “Can I bum a ride over to the area? It looks like time is going to be at a premium tonight.”

Jeremy dropped me off at the edge of the patrolled area. I felt tiny on the street with skyscrapers rising on either side. If I looked up, all I saw was blackness; the ever-present lights of the building and streets blocked out anything as mundane as the stars and moon. It was early evening, and crowds still walked the streets as far above us the hum of traffic and lights of the vehicles displayed themselves prettily to the backdrop of a dark sky. Damn, I hated this part of the city.

I had memorized the city map when I first arrived in the town, so finding the address the assassin had stayed at was trivial. The guards ignored me; my dress style was not so low class that I drew attention. When I drew up to the building, I confess I didn't see any difference between its neighbor except the address number. Black paneled glass stretched up as far as the eye could see, and only the first few floors had transparent windows. I closed my eyes at the door, concentrated a bit, then drew an imaginary circle around me and willed energy into it. I stepped up to the door and stepped through, just as one of the pedestrians walked up to the door and almost ran into me. The automated sensors detected our weight and opened to us. The men at the security counter stared at the man next to me, but their eyes almost seemed to slide away from me.

Walking up to the security detail, I carefully examined the man at the desk while miming talking to him. Nodding in imaginary acknowledgment, I moved forward and wandered around looking for the elevator. I found a restroom before I found the elevators and stepped inside. I stepped inside the unoccupied stall, and biting my lip in concentration; I forced my features to mimic the guard I had studied minutes earlier. On the way out, I looked in the mirror to confirm my features were mostly correct and then washed my hands.

All of this may seem like a lot of trouble to go through when you're invisible, but there were fundamental reasons for it. The technique I was using issues a blanket suggestion that I wasn't there. It was advantageous around people, especially when most active psychics had long since left the city. There was a flaw to it, though. Machines and cameras were not fooled. True non-magical invisibility involves bending light and is very tiring, and yet another technique I knew to fuzz the sensors would be like poking a hornet’s nest. My ability to deflect notice was very energy efficient; however, it had a relatively small radius, well within line of sight.

The drawback, of course, was that a building security detail would notice a stranger roaming around the restricted floors, but they probably wouldn't notice a fellow guard. Even if the building had an AI, it shouldn't notice unless it saw two of us. Since the Tinman War, advanced AIs have been outlawed, so it shouldn't be too hard. I am not a security expert, but I had talked about it a bit with Jeremy, who was. It should work, and it was easier than my original infiltration method, which literally took a week and was exhausting as hell.

I waited at the elevator until a well-dressed man walked in, waving his hand in front of the scanner. When he got off, I selected the penthouse as my destination. Resisting the urge to hum to myself, I waited for the door to open. The first thing I saw was four very well-armed men, in black suits more suited for the government, in marksmen poses aiming large handheld weapons towards the elevator door. We each froze in this tableau for a moment before the two closest ran into the elevator, frantically looking around. It would have been comical to see them practically pat down the wall and search the openings of the elevator I wasn't even aware of if I hadn't been so busy contorting my body to avoid two rather large men in a ten-by-ten-foot room.

I finally was able to position myself to exit the elevator and had the time to examine the men more closely. They all had very well-camouflaged implants next to their ear and wore dark glasses, and the FBI’s suits were infamous for wearing... ninety years ago. As retro as their clothing was, the implant and the impressive-looking energy pistols they were wielding convinced me that they might be good at what they did, or at least well-financed.

Shaking my head at the spirited antics of the security group, I concentrated once more and began the more draining task of bending light around me. Now that I was on the penthouse level, there were few enough people that any surveillance would note someone out of place. A dull throb began to gather behind my eyes. Doubtless, it would become worse before the night was done.

Prepared now, I explored the floor and found only one significant door. I doubted that Kingston was sleeping in the restroom, security office, or broom closet. That narrowed it down to the huge double doors with gold filigree that led to the central area of the floor. I should have been a detective.

The door was unlocked. I suppose that is understandable when you have security this heavy. It was also well maintained; it silently eased open the tiny bit I needed to squeeze inside and then closed with only a near-silent click. Apparently, it was noisy enough because when I looked to the center of the room, I noted a man sitting at one of the hugest mahogany desks I have ever seen. He had paused in mid-motion while signing something and was looking to the door.

Even after almost a year, I recognized those features. They were not the strong Italian features you would expect from a mobster... or at least I would expect, having been exposed to too many old-style gangster movies. No, before me sat a slightly overweight man who appeared in his mid-forties, one who obviously had yet to partake of the relatively common anti-aging geriatric drugs commonly available. His hair was thinning, but despite the bit of excess weight and lines that showed every bit of his age, he wasn't a small man, and you could almost feel the confidence oozing from the pores. As I examined him, I knew part of what I had to shake that confidence.

I silently padded over to the guest chair across from the man. It wasn't hard; my feet sank deeply into the carpet, and the slight whir of the air conditioning covered up even that minute sound. I sank down and forced my features to return to my current identity. When I was ready, I dropped the forces bending light and my suggestion field.

“Hello Kingston, been a while,” I said calmly. The mobster scrabbled back in his chair in obvious unpleasant startlement. After that, his first action was to lunge toward his desk, probably to summon security. I could have paralyzed him, but I need him able to interact with me. It took far more energy than jabbing his brain, but I gathered the power to stop him in his tracks telekinetically.

He looked at me and scowled. I could see a wave of anger burning in his eyes, and it set his jowls to a slightly undignified quivering. There was also fear in his expression; I could sense that radiating off him, but his rage almost eclipsed it. Wow, he really didn't like me.

“You...” he growled.

“Yeah, I guess you do remember more than I thought you would.” I was almost impressed. Most people don't recall much once I wipe their short-term memory, and they are catatonic for a week. “But, honestly, can you be that surprised to see me after hiring an assassin to kill me?”

“He failed,” the other man ground out.

“Yes. Indeed he did.” I nodded in acknowledgment. I could feel him strain to escape my mental grasp. It wasn't going to happen. I could lift cars with my mind. A supernatural may be able to break my grip, and the psionically talented were slippery to hold onto, but a mere mortal wasn't going anywhere.

“One word and my people will be in here and wipe you from existence.” I doubted he had that kind of firepower, but it was time to lead him away from this path.

“You can feel my grasp around you.” I theatrically clenched my fist before him and put on what I sincerely hoped was a menacing expression. It hadn't worked on the shifter I had captured, but I was hoping to get it right this time. “At a mere thought, I can grind your bones into a paste.” I was lying outrageously at this. My telekinesis exerts a force on an entire object. It was suitable for flinging things around, even cars if I didn't mind exhausting myself, but it wouldn't crush, cut, or twist. I suppose I could hang him from his necktie if focused on the cloth, but there are limits to the mental gyrations even someone as skilled as I could do.

The emanations of fear were fading. I cursed under my breath. Somehow I had given myself away because his panic was leaving him. “But you haven't,” he muttered as if he had scored a point. He had a point; I could scarcely deny that if I were going to kill him, he would have been dead already.

I sighed as I examined his aura. It looked much like it had a year ago, with an exception. “Hmm, you've changed.” He glared at me. “Last time, you were a flipping loon. Cursing and spitting at me.”

“You'll find me more of a challenge this time. I won't forget anything. I've taken precautions.”

“Hmm, I cured your insanity, but it should have returned without intense therapy.” I stared at him silently while he looked at me in shock. I had expected him to be a lethal nutcase still. I had never heard of someone with the strength of will to hold on to their sanity long enough to get help. This made things easier in some ways and more complex in others.

“It was you,” breathed in the older man. “But why...”

“It wasn't because I loved you,” I muttered. “Your mind was too twisted to allow me to do what I needed to do.”

“Rob me blind,” he huffed, starting to build a full head of steam.

“Actually, you robbed you blind,” I corrected absently. “I had you transfer it to me in ways that even you wouldn't be able to trace,” I told him solemnly. “And you weren't going to do that when you were as mad as a hatter. How did you track me down? I thought you were the best. You sure thought so at the time.”

Kingston scowled at me; his struggling steadily grew weaker as his fear left. He was beginning to think about why I was really here. “There's always someone better. I had to hire her.”

“Well, interesting as that is. The main issue is that you hired a vampire to kill me. And I don't appreciate that.”

“After what you did to me, you're lucky I don't send an army of assassins after you and anyone you associate with.”

An adrenaline rush hit me at that statement. A substantial emotional surge of pure anger followed. “If anything happens to them, I'll kill you and everyone in your organization down to the mail boy!” I shouted, only noticing afterward that I was half lunging out of the chair, and the remains of the chair's armrest were kindling in my hands. I took a calming breath and sat back into the chair, brushing the splinters from my hands. I had subconsciously raised Kingston about three feet in the air during my outburst. “My friends would prefer it if I didn't kill anyone.” I left it unsaid what my feelings were.

“You expect me to forget what you did to me,” the gangster blustered. I could feel his renewed fear radiating out from him. My genuine rage did what my bluster couldn't do.

“No, you're terrible at forgetting things,” I nodded towards him. The very fact he remembered or was able to put the pieces together to figure out that something had been done to him made him an exceptional person.

“So why should I forget that you walked away with almost half a billion credits,” he sneered. Damn, keeping this man intimidated was almost impossible.

I stood up and walked to the wall. I hadn't paid any attention to the room when I came in, but there was nicely framed art hung from the walls, and one side was almost completely covered in shelves and books. Naturally, I ignored the art and headed to the bookcases. I absentmindedly browsed the selections.

“To be honest, when I got here, I hadn't a clue what I might offer you as compensation.” My fingertips glided down the rows of books. No occult books, but an excellent selection of psychology. I haven't had time to study it since I have been pursuing the magical, but I used to love reading about the subject. Most of it was wrong, but it never hurts to see things from another angle. I pulled out a tome with an interesting title, and while I thumbed through it, asked, “But tell me. How much is your sanity worth to you?”

I heard a gasp behind me and turned. The floating man looked at me with the whites of his eyes showing; terror pounded at my senses. Oh, he thought I was threatening to drive him insane. I could, but that would be pointless. Crazy people are even more dangerous than sane ones. “No, I don't mean to return your insanity; I mean I provided a valuable service by curing you.”

A hoarse laugh came from Kingston, “I wouldn't bet it was worth that much.”

“Well, you may be a better judge at that than me,” I walked back to the ruined chair and looked up at the man. “Do you have a use for a favor from someone with my skills?”

“In the occult?”

I blinked in surprise. We had been obliquely talking about psionics so the change of subject caught me off guard. “I was considering my healing talents. I can heal the flesh as I healed your mind. But I suppose my modest skills in the occult seem to be more in demand these days.” I suppose that when modern science can literally resurrect the dead, but backing up a person's memory and reloading it into a healed body is illegal, his disinterest in my physical healing skills is understandable.

“Just what are you?”

“You don't think I'm human.” I smiled wryly but didn't say any more on his question. “Well, can you?” I prodded, returning to the original subject.

“I hardly think one use of your services is worth a half billion,” Kingston said doubtfully. I was impressed he could haggle while dangling in midair, but the very fact he was considering it meant that we might have a deal in the making.

“Well, you can't have the money back,” I reminded him as he snorted in response. It seems the newly christened Edward Prince didn't care about the money. That either meant he was a man of principle and wanted justice or revenge... or what he had now dwarfed what I had taken from him. Either idea was a bit ominous. Just because he wasn't frothing at the mouth anymore didn't mean he was a nice man. “What would you consider fair compensation?”

“Ten uses of your services,” he stated.

“Ten would keep me pretty occupied in your employ,” I shook my head in mostly imaginary disgust. The bartering had begun. “Three services.”

“Bah, you think you’re a djinn?” Kingston snorted in disdain, and I had to swallow a chuckle. “Seven.”

I almost smiled as he exchanged one number of mystical import with another that had a similar meaning. “Seven services that use my healing or occult knowledge only. I will not be used as an assassin if I took a life that lightly; you’d already be dead. In return, all transgressions are to be forgiven. No more assassins and no more threats.”

“Agreed,” he grudgingly acceded.

I slowly lowered him to the ground, and we gingerly shook hands over his desk.