As I entered my room, I first took note of its current condition. I only had a few things: a full-sized cot, a dresser, and a desk with a chair. My closet was closed, with a large bag in front of it. It was filled with my dirty laundry from the last week.

After I assessed, nothing changed. I looked at the girl sitting on my bed. "Francis," I said, letting her name nearly steal my breath.

"Lexi," she called back as if the same were happening to her. There was an air of awkwardness between us as we exchanged a bewildered stare.

Her beauty enraptured me, from how her sun-kissed olive skin stood out from her pale white nightgown to how her voluminous black hair hung over her shoulder. Her striking emerald-colored eyes darted up and down as she looked me over. She may not have been as well endowed as most women, but I never found the appeal in that. She even had the most beautiful name I'd ever heard. Francois Abreo...

I rubbed my face trying to snap myself out of the trance Francis nearly put me in. I opened my mouth to say something but couldn't form words. Usually, two people would say hello to each other in this situation. Then ask, "How was work?" or say, "I'm glad you're back." But I remember our last conversation. We both said things that we didn't mean, and now was the time for one of us to apologize. I could see her open her mouth to speak before stopping herself as I did. 

It was at this moment I recalled something my elder brother taught me. "You should never allow a lady to apologize first, even if she is in the wrong," he said. "Be the man and show her you can acknowledge your hand in her sorrow." Thinking of those words made me feel as though I had to be the one to say something. 

"I'm sorry," I said, leaning against the door, crossing my arms but not taking my eyes off Francis. "I know the work I do is dangerous... But it's for my family."

Her gaze fell, and she didn't say anything for a moment. I could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to think of something. I removed myself from the door and took one step forward. She didn't look up but didn't seem like she would protest my approach. In fact, by the time I made it halfway across the room, she'd scooted closer to the head of the bed, giving me space to sit down. Accepting her little invitation, I sat on the bed, careful not to invade too much of her room if she changed her mind. But I didn't take my eyes off her. 

For a moment, I could hear the hastened beat of our hearts. I avoided looking at her exposed neck for fear that I might lose control. When she still hadn't said anything, I decided to move away. But when I tried, she grabbed my hand. "D-Don't... she said in a hushed tone. "It's alright..." 

"I'm sorry too... I'm glad your back home..." She was so quiet it was almost like I'd been listening to a ghost. As I turned to face her, I could see her eyes watering. Even though she'd been on the brink of tears, she cracked a small smile. "You didn't get hurt, did you?" 

I shook my head, "I made sure they didn't have the chance." I almost hated how that sounded. I'd never given a line like that any thought to anyone else. But with Francis, I never liked showing her what a monster I could be. My gaze fell, my attention turning to her hand. It was soft and warm. Whenever I held it, I remembered the one time Father spoke of Mom. One of the few times, the man's cold heart seemed to melt. 

Francis took hold of my chin with her delicate fingers, raising my head to look at her. She flipped her hair, exposing her neck to me. "You must be hungry," she wondered, "I can't imagine a blood bag is very filling." 

I didn't want to look at Francis again, not as she offered to feed me. I adored looking at her like I did when I entered the room. Now, all I could see was the blood flowing through her body. My throat suddenly became so dry. I felt like I'd been walking through the desert with an empty canteen. Francis could see my hesitation clear as day, but knowing her, she likes to look out for me too much. She inched closer to me, momentarily taking her hands away before wrapping her arms around my neck. She pulled me down, resting my head on her collarbone. She smelled so sweet it became incredibly intoxicating. "It's ok. "She whispered in my ear, "Drink." 

My mind became clouded with thirst. As I inched closer to her neck, I opened my mouth, revealing my fangs. I could feel her blood dripping into my mouth as I bit down her neck. I could feel veins pulsating as I fed. Even hearing her whimper from the pain made the meal even sweeter than it was. Of all my life as a Paradigm, Francis's blood tasted unlike anything I'd ever had. As I drank, she held me tightly, her hands clutching my back and head for dear life. An embrace I was sure to return. But I began to lose track of how long I'd been drinking. Francis's blood became too sweet to give her any relief. If she was telling me to stop, I didn't know it. The craving for blood began to overpower my senses. 

"Cease..." I finally heard, and the craving suddenly stopped. I opened my mouth, removing my fangs from Francis's neck, and after, I couldn't feel anything anymore. "Careful," she playfully said, lips close to my ear. "I'm a dangerous snack to have." My body suddenly regained its feeling, and the first thing I did was let go of her. 

"I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't mean to..." Francis cupped my cheeks into her hands, showing me her smile again. "Don't worry, Lexi. I know how to get you to stop." 

She shouldn't have had to force me to stop. I should've been able to control all on my own. I felt so frustrated at myself that I wanted to bash my head against the wall until I died. But I knew she'd use Weird magic again to stop me. 

Francis reached under the bed and pulled out a small med kit. She pulled out some gauze and medical wrap. She also pulled out a small water container, then handed me all the items. Using the first bit of gauze and water, I cleaned her wound. Then used another patch of gauze, pressed it down onto the injury, and began to dress it. Once I was done, Francis put the kit back under the bed. She then crawled to the corner and patted the space next to her. I moved over beside her and lay down. She joined me, reaching her arm across my chest and positioning her leg on my thigh, coiling around me. 

"Who was your mark?" she asked, her eyes shining in the moonlight. 

"An Irishman. The Rotterdam family wanted him dead 'cause he was working for the feds." I shook my head again. "Typical rat problems." 

"Did you have to kill anyone else?" She asked, her voice trembling a bit as she did. 

"Yeah... The guy's nephew. He was trying to get his uncle out of the city." The events in Barkley played again in my mind. I didn't want to kill the kid, but I couldn't leave any witnesses. "He was just trying to do right by his family... Same as me." 

For a few moments, the room fell silent again. With Penny, it felt like I'd accidentally spilled coffee on her bed or let the cat get out again. Telling my sister about these things felt a lot easier than telling Francis. 

"Probably a good thing that you think that way," Francis said, breaking the silence. "Paradigms aren't supposed to be heartless monsters like Vampyres. Murdering without feeling remorse makes us better than them." 

"I don't know if I like the concept of being compared to a blood psycho," I chuckled, "But I guess it's nice to think like that. Though, being super strong and fast would have its perks." 

"It's not good to dance around with such dangerous thoughts," Francis warned. "You'll give me wrinkles from all the worrying I'd be doing." Her saying that made me wonder how much she'd worry if we met during the war. 

"Trust me. I don't plan on becoming one of those blood psychos. Besides, Acolyte agents would swarm on me like flies to feces." I'd come to regret that statement as Francis would tighten her grip on my jacket. There I go again, making the poor girl worry. "T-Thanks, by the way," I said, attempting to break the tiny bit of tension I had created. "That silence rune worked like a charm." 

"It was either that or you get found out by the cops," Francis said, "I seem to remember you saying that you'd figure it out as you went." Ouch... She went for the gut on that one. I couldn't blame her, considering how far south that conversation went. 

My original plan involved me following the guy into an alley and putting him down there. But that was a little more risky, given I had to operate at night. I asked Francis to help, but that almost didn't go so well. I felt terrible guilt-tripping her into making me the rune, which got me thinking of how to make it up to her. 

"Well, I did think of a smarter idea," I said as it popped into my mind. "Would you like to just go for a ride?" Francis sat up, looking me in the eyes with as much skepticism as a detective looking at a strange clue. "You don't even have a car," she said. 

"Well... My Sister just got the Duesy from my old man," I said. "I'm sure she'd let me borrow it for a little night on the town at least once." Francis took some time to consider the idea which popped into my head because I remembered when we first met. Unlike me, the only parental issue she had was her lack thereof. Shamans usually only stick together briefly, so Francis came here when this place was still a boarding school.

"Wouldn't that be dangerous, though?" She asked, "Wouldn't you be a target?" She was right to assume, but we could handle things. "My family isn't very well known yet. Plus, we work for the biggest family in town right now." 

"The bigger the fish, the more satisfying the catch," she said. Again with the valid points? I was starting to think she didn't have that much faith in me. 

"You don't have to worry about a thing Franny. As long as I got Wanda and a steady hand, we shouldn't have any problems." She covered her mouth, but I could see her cheeks poking out as she smiled underneath her hands. She looked to the closet and then down at her gown. "I wonder what I should wear. When would we go?" 

"As soon as I'm free from the family work," I answered. "Provided everything goes alright with the old man." My free time was due anyways since it was near the end of May. I always got some time off for myself. 

Francis laid back down, now excited for our little car trip. She rarely got to explore the city, so diving into Iscariot's nightlife would be alright. It'd be a while until she fell asleep, leaving me with my thoughts for the night. This brought me to what the Irishman said. 

"There's an even bigger rat than me. Rotterdam... Huang... those big fish don't even realize they are being played."

These are the final words that I neglected to share with anyone yet. I knew the fourth time I'd have to tell the story of what happened would be with my Father. Dismissing those words would've been stupid. Plus, this came from someone who turned rat to the human governments. The only fish bigger than the humans were the Romaniconti Order and their Acolytes. Even though they mostly leave the hive cities alone, could they be attempting to make a move on us? 

Then there is the sudden increase in Vampyre activity. The headline in the Irishman's newspaper wasn't the first these past few months: Sanguine-Psychosis, a dangerous affliction. 

As my thoughts raced over the information I was given tonight, I noticed I clutched Francis tightly. As I looked at her sleeping face, my worries began to quiet. I knew that no matter what the future brought. As long as I had her, then everything would pan out alright.