Author's Note:

Hello again =)

I've promised a sequel and here it is. I hope you will like it...

For this story you need to know the prequel, or at least it'll make it much easier to understand this story's background if you do.

As usual this is slash and if that's not your kind of thing... well you wouldn't know the prequel anyway, so why bother reading this?

And of course once again a big „thank you" to oceanlover4evr for being the beta-reader for this story. Because I'm still no native speaker. ;-)


Thunder rolled over Ankh Morpork, greatest city of the discworld.

In the distance, bolts of lightning split the sky apart. Rain fell in streams down the streets, cascading from the rooftops like transparent curtains.

It was a dark and stormy night, from the likes that kept everyone at home, even the ones who were supposed to be out on the streets at night doing their jobs. No thieves or assassins were out on the streets or the roofs on a night like this.
As the storm approached, the lightning strikes illuminated the dark streets. One particularly impressive bolt of lightning dominated the sky over the Unseen University for a second, before everything went dark again.
Inside the library the Librarian was sitting on top of a large bookshelf, many feet above ground. It wasn't that he was afraid of the storm– or in fact anything else– but lately there had been too much trouble around the old, mighty books. The Librarian didn't want to take any risks.
No one else was around the library, though, during the night; the Librarian wouldn't allow it. So he was quiet surprised when he saw a figure striding through the passages between the shelves. It was a dark figure, slim with an elegant attitude, and nearly invisible, but the Librarian knew what to look for.
Curious, the ape made his way down to confront the intruder. He landed right in front of the stranger, who merely stopped but showed no sign of surprise.
"Ook?" the Librarian asked accusingly.
The other gave him a doubtful look, but still he answered, "I was just leaving."
"Ook ook?"
"Through the door."
The librarian didn't like smart answers, especially not when his books were concerned.

„Ook?"

"Is it important who I am? As I said, I was just leaving."
The stranger walked around the Librarian and continued onwards. Surprised and a bit angry the ape followed him. He wanted to at least make sure the man would leave immediately. Normally, the Librarian would have already used violence to force the intruder to answer, but the thought of hitting this man didn't even manage to cross his mind. The stranger had the air of a predator to him, like he was something really, really dangerous, despite looking like a youngster.
They had almost reached the door, when the stranger suddenly stopped and turned towards the Librarian.
"Well, maybe you could help me," he said hesitantly. "I am searching for a man. He must be nearly forty years old, brown hair, with a scar around his right eye."
The Librarian just shrugged. There were over a million people in this city, and hundreds of brown haired men with scars.
"He is a watchmen," the stranger continued.

„Ook..."

"With a stony expression."
"Ook! Ook ook ook."
"Commander of the City Watch, you say? And his name is Vimes?"

„Ook."

The stranger lifted his head to nod, and for the first time the librarian could see his face. The man was quite young, nearly still a child, with dark hair that hung onto his forehead.
"Thank you," he said quietly, and then he turned to leave.
"Ook?" the Librarian asked, puzzled.
The other stopped once again and replied, "No, I don't think so. I have never seen you before."
Before the Librarian could say anything else, the stranger had disappeared through the large wooden door into the stormy night.


Three days earlier

Fred Colon and Nobby Nobbs patrolled through the streets of Ankh Morpork. It was their usual walk to get a beer or pastry from the various shopkeepers and tavern owners. No one actually considered them to go on patrol to look out for crime. Commander Vimes knew that, of course, and had given them a route that would provide a sufficient number of people who could be blackmailed for food and allowed them to return to the watch-house as soon as possible, but also offered the two very few chances to run into a real crime.
Maybe it was that knowledge that made Colon too confused to run away as a man came running towards him, calling out something the sergeant couldn't quite comprehend nor understand.
He stood still, as if rooted to the ground, until the man reached him. Corporal Nobbs, on the other hand, had shown certain tendencies to vanish as soon as he noticed that a problem was running his way, but Colon's stillness had him wondering which was the right thing to do.
Both policemen needed a moment to understand what the agitated man tried to tell them. All they could make out were broken fragments of his sentences. "...my daughter... something... happened..."
Since they could not get the man to form clear sentences they decided to follow him.
The man led them to a small bakery only a few meters away. The shop's door was opened wide and some people were already sneaking out of the shop, their pockets filled to the rim with pastry, but no one seemed to care about that. Voices were to be heard from upstairs, the loudest belonged to a crying woman.
They hurriedly made their way through the shop and up stairs that were leading them into the living area of the small house. The noises were getting louder and louder as they stepped into the flat. By now it was clearly noticeable where they came from. At the end of a small corridor there was an open door which led into a small bedroom.
A girl lay on the bed. Completely still, her skin had turned utterly white and all she was wearing was a long nightgown. All those details and the fact that she lay on top of the blankets, allowed only one conclusion. The girl was dead.
A crying woman, obviously the mother, sat at the edge of the bed, holding one of the girl's hands in her own.
Fred and Nobby hesitantly entered the room. As they approached the bed they could see two tiny holes in the girl's neck where a few drops of blood had escaped from the wounds. In a city like this, it was obvious what had caused such injuries. Those were the bite marks of a vampire.


A few minutes later, the two watchmen and the baker sat together in the tiny living room, which was also the apartment's kitchen and most likely the main room as well. The atmosphere was deadly serious and tense, like the air was before a thunderstorm started. This wasn't good and they all knew it. It wasn't your run-of-the-mill usual kind of murder, it was one of those cases that just got bigger the more you got to know about them.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Colon asked seriously, trying to cover his anxiety up with professionalism.
The baker gave him a doubtful look, as if he was considering whether or not to answer. "How should I know what has happened?! I already told you that I found her like this!" he finally said, agitated.
"You may want to calm down, sir. There is no reason to be so agitated," Corporal Nobbs interjected, eying the man with a suspicious glance.
"Of course there is! My daughter is dead!" the baker exclaimed. Restlessly, he stood up and started pacing through the room although he had to turn quite often since the room didn't offer that much space to walk.
This silenced the two policemen for a while. The man certainly had a point there.
"You don't have a clue who might be responsible for this, do you?" Colon inquired carefully, as he finally couldn't stand the uncomfortable silence anymore. The baker's face hardened and even Nobby and Colon could see that the sergeant had hit a nerve.
"Actually I do have a clue," the man said, his eyes glowing with the fire of rage. "A few month ago a young man started working for me. I knew he was a vampire, but he was the only one who applied for the job, so I couldn't complain about it. That bloodsucking bastard must have used the chance he was offered! Gods, I knew that something was wrong with him!"
The baker hadn't stopped pacing while he was talking, which had caused the two watchmen to follow him with their eyes. Hands shook as he mumbled something which sounded like "My little girl". Suddenly he hit the wall with his right hand and growled through his clenched teeth, "Damn it, I should have known!"

Colon and Nobby both made a quick movements backwards upon the sudden outburst.
"Could you tell us his name?" Colon inquired carefully, feeling even more uncomfortable than before. He knew they should possibly offer comfort or something, but he couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound completely pathetic.
"It's Jonathan... forgot about the rest... but he lives in the Shades at Mrs. Cake's guesthouse," the baker took a breather and afterward continued, "I was worried this morning because he hadn't shown up for work. Thought something might have happened to him. Then I heard my wife scream and..." there, he stopped. It wasn't necessary to say more, as both watchmen could imagine what he had found.
"All right, we will go back to the watch house now. Someone will return soon and save the evidence," Colon said hurriedly, sensing that he had somehow gotten himself into something he would rather not be a part of. He wanted to talk to someone who knew what to do in such a situation. This was surely going to become one of those political cases, and Colon knew he wasn't good at them, so he would have to find someone who was.


Back on the streets, Nobby turned towards Colon and asked, "What are we going to do now?"
For a few moments they walked on in silence while Fred tried to think of an answer. He was still very sure he had to find someone who was better suited for political cases. However, he also knew that he couldn't return to the watch-house with nothing but a vague description of a murder and the assumption that something was wrong. They would have to do a bit more research or people back at the watch house would laugh at him!
"I guess we'll have to visit the vampire," Colon reluctantly said, shuddering all the while. It was a most unsettling thought for him.
"Really?" Nobby asked, confused.
"Well, what else are we supposed to do? If the Commander asks us about this, we can hardly tell him that we couldn't investigate because the suspect is a vampire. He'd go postal!"
They considered this for a moment and came to an unanimous conclusion.
"Mrs. Cake's guesthouse, right?" Nobby asked.
Colon only nodded.


It would be great if you'd write a review, so that I know what you think, or whether I shall continue this story.