After the clothes had been bagged up and tossed into the furnace and two of the five bodies had been laid out in the cast iron trough and covered with Mix—the trough wasn't big enough for all five at once—and the garage floor had been washed clean of all traces of bodily fluids, Bethalie turned to lead the way to the elevator.

"You go on, Tuck," Noah suddenly said, taking hold of her shoulder and bringing her to a halt. "We'll be up a minute."

Mace cast her a questioning look. "Bethalie?"

"It's okay. Go on up," she said easily. "Tell Evyn I'll be there in a minute."

Though he was uncertain about going, Mace went on to the elevator and closed the gate, disappearing as the old lift noisily ground its way upward. As soon as Mace was out of sight, Bethalie let out a breath and her legs just...disappeared from beneath her.

Noah was too quick to let her fall and she was lifted into his arms and whisked out the small front door in between the garage bays and into the cool air. She was annoyed that he had to carry her, but there was nothing she could do about it. She just had no strength left after the torturous hour she'd just spent.

Effortlessly, Noah carried her across the empty street and sidewalk beyond and down the small set of concrete steps that led to the hard packed, rock strewn beach stretching all along Shore Front Drive. Carefully, he sat her onto the cold sand, facing the vast grey ocean, and dropped down next to her. And then she put her elbows on her knees, put her head down, and tried to focus on drawing in deep breaths of cool, salty air, letting the hiss of the waves fill her ears so that everything else was blotted out.

She absolutely refused to faint twice in one day! She was not that weak!

"I am amazed at your strength, Bethalie," Noah said, putting a large arm around her shoulders. His warmth was welcomed because she was suddenly shivering.

She had to say that she was amazed at her own strength, too. Then again, her Granny was always accusing her of being as stubborn as a stalled ox and filled with piss and vinegar. And thank god for all that.

"Whatever I've done to you, it's obvious you're still half Ward. No newly borne could have done that and kept it together," Noah whispered in her ear, running his hand over her hair. "I don't think Tuck had an inkling that anything was wrong."

Good. She didn't want him or Evyn to know what was happening to her. But, she knew. The last hour had been...strange and awful and confusing...and brutal. The blood covering the floor and soaking the clothes of the felled Vampires had tormented her the entire time they were cleaning up. The scent of that blood, which had been practically unnoticeable to her before, had hit her in the face as soon as she'd stepped off the elevator.

The scent of the synthetic stuff had been nice, but the real thing had caught her completely off guard.

The aroma of real blood was one she couldn't describe because she had nothing to compare it to. It was simply very, very...appealing. Her reaction to that luscious, velvety bouquet had been hard and fast and she could admit that had she not been as stubborn and bull headed as a Sanderson, she would not have been above falling to the floor and lapping it up.

However, she wasn't about to give into that disturbing desire, so she had gritted her teeth and gotten her hands dirty. Every breath had been torture, though, like smelling something mouth wateringly delicious after not eating for weeks...yet being forbidden to taste it. She had to keep her every nerve in check, though her every nerve had been on fire as she yearned for just one single drop. She wanted it so badly it hurt.

She'd kept checking for her fangs every few seconds, almost compulsively, but nothing had appeared. She didn't know if her eyes had shown what was happening inside, but she'd tried very hard to remain stoic and calm, so that even if Mace had seen what she'd seen in the mirror, he wouldn't be freaked out because she wasn't freaking out.

On the outside.

On the inside, however, she was a twisted ball of agony. And yes, she had been freaking out! She'd gone from someone who couldn't eat a hamburger...to wanting lick up the blood on the floor. That was something worth freaking out over! She wanted to lick up a dead Vampire's spilled bodily fluids!

It was just too much. She didn't know whether to laugh, cry, faint, or just pack up, leave Port Angeles, and go home.

"You'll be alright," Noah assured her. "You didn't give in. You didn't even take on your death mask. I know you'll be fine."

She shrugged listlessly.

"I'm sorry," Noah said quietly. "I wouldn't have done this to you, or to myself, if there'd been another way to keep you alive."

She looked at Noah then, knowing just what he meant. By feeding her from himself, he'd attached himself to her, the same way he would be attached to his chosen mate. And now, he was bonded with a Ward who had no desire to be a Vampire's paramour.

However, her unwillingness to be Noah Grey's mate aside, she was feeling what he'd done to her. To them. She didn't mind him being next to her now, she didn't feel as smothered and angered by his presence. Looking at him, he seemed so dark and brooding and ruggedly handsome that it almost pained her somehow. Of course, he'd been ruggedly handsome before, but now she seemed to care. And she couldn't even dredge up the annoyance she wanted to feel because she simply did not possess the inner strength.

"I think I should get you inside and get some food into you," Noah said, getting to his feet and taking her with him. "You did lose a lot of blood a very short while ago. You're probably weak from lack of nutrition."

She didn't argue. She would stuff herself with human food to bursting if it meant getting the scent of blood off her mind. Noah tried to keep his arm around her as they walked, but she forced herself to shrug him off. She wasn't an invalid. She'd always looked after herself. That was not going to change just because of a slight transfusion.

Forcibly, she tried to pull herself together before reaching the loft, for Evyn's sake. She didn't want to upset the woman any more than she already had been. As they stepped into the living space, her gaze swiftly found Evyn, sitting at her desk and pecking away at her computer. Mace was sitting in a chair next to her.

"Is everything alright?" Evyn questioned, eyeing them suspiciously as they approached. It was obvious she'd been crying.

"Everything's good," Bethalie told her as Noah put a hand on her back and swept her toward the kitchen.

"Bethalie needs to feed. She's weak," he said to Evyn, who was instantly on her feet and hustling to nourish everyone.

Noah sat her in a chair and the next thing she knew he, Evyn, and Mace were all in the kitchen, busily preparing enough food for an army, while she did nothing but watch. And that wasn't because she was too helpless and ill to pitch in. It was because she was just too domestically challenged and would be more of a hindrance than an asset. So, she stayed out of the fray.

Once the cooking was done, the smorgasbord was set before her and her plate heaped with fresh salad, steamed veggies, brown rice, and a plethora of fruit cubes, along with a glass of coffee.

She instantly honed on in the frappé, taking a big gulp and thanking the heavens that it still tasted like sweet nectar. The food was up to Evyn's usual standards, of course, and she dutifully filled her belly, but it was the coffee that most interested her. Almost, it seemed a balm to her overwrought nerves.

"Do you want to hear about work?" Evyn asked, a little more relaxed now that everyone was seated and eating the food they were supposed to be eating.

"Of course," Bethalie answered. Work was exactly what she needed to focus on.

"I found what information I could on Lance's three still living friends. And I've ordered all the supplies and contacted Waste Management for a pick up and barrel drop off in two days."

"Perfect," she said past her mouthful of fruit. "So, what have you got on our three charming men?"

"What we have is...William Black and Nate DeKirk both live in the Waterfront District. William works nights at a call center, poor guy, and Nate works for the city, doing sewer maintenance. I have an address for William, but only a post office box for Nate. I can't find a place of employment or an address for Jürgen, but he does have a bank account and I can tell you that every evening between six thirty and seven o'clock, he buys a newspaper and a pack of Camel Lights at a store on the corner of 8th Street and Broadway, also in the Waterfront District. I have photos of both Black and DeKirk from the DMV, but Van Cleeve is off the grid."

"It's three thirty, so I'll try William first. He'll probably still be asleep," she said, finishing off her fruit salad.

"I think you should rest first," Noah put in. "You've had a rough day."

"I'm fine," Bethalie told him, wishing the words had sounded as snippy as she'd intended. "I can't just sit here on my thumbs when I have a job to do."

"Maybe you should take a few hours to rest, Bethalie," Evyn suggested. "You're as pale as paste."

"I agree," Mace put in. "You don't look well, Bethalie."

"Thank you for the input, Tuck," Noah said coldly. "But, I can look after Bethalie."

She let out a breath. "Bethalie can look out for herself, but thank you all for your concern. Now, I'm going to get ready to have a chat with our friends from Stoney's."

That said, she pushed away from the table and stood, heading towards her weapons cupboard to get her coat, feeling slightly irritated. A woman dies for a few minutes and suddenly everyone treats her like she's completely enfeebled!

"I'm going to call my family first, Bethalie," Noah said from right behind her. "I have to try to get my father to call off his men."

That would be helpful, but she doubted it would happen. She'd been through the whole family vendetta thing before. It never stopped until the family got tired of losing the people they sent after her, or she got tired of the family and snipped the head off the beast. And she certainly wasn't above flying to New York and snipping the head off Bartholomew Grey.

Noah walked away to make his call and Bethalie slipped on her coat, making sure everything was ready to go before retrieving her keys, phone, and remote from Evyn's desk. It was then that a thought struck her, making her stomach feel uneasy.

"Evyn," she called across the space. "Grab a jacket and your laptop."

"What? Why?" the woman called back, confused.

"Because I don't want to leave you here alone. It's not safe." Doors and locks were human deterrents. None of those things would stop the Vampires that would undoubtedly be coming for her. Maybe not in the same day, but why risk it? "Until they stop coming after me, you'll not be staying here alone."

"Bethalie, I'll slow you down," Evyn protested, walking over. "You don't need the extra worry of watching out for me."

"Grab a jacket," she repeated firmly. She already had two people following after her. The third one was actually one she wanted with her.

Mace appeared beside Evyn. "I'll get your computer. You can keep me company in the backseat."

Evyn, knowing when she was beaten, nodded her head and went to finish clearing the table. Cleanliness and order came first, no matter what might come after.

Once Evyn was away, Mace turned his gaze to Bethalie. "Are you sure you should go out, Bethalie? I mean, I don't know anything about Wards, but you've been through some pretty serious stuff today."

"I'm fine," she assured him, dropping her remote into her pocket and handing him her phone. "Call whoever you need to. Let them know you're okay."

Mace's brows shot up and mild shock registered on his face. "Really?"

"Really. Tell them you'll see them as soon as you can," she said in a tone that let him know he wouldn't be uttering comforting lies to his friends. "I'll figure out something for you. I promise." And she didn't give her word unless she knew she could keep it.

Mace stared at her for a moment, clearly not wanting to believe his ears. But, then he turned and walked toward the living room space, punching buttons as he went. She had no earthly idea just what she thought she was going to do to keep him from getting put down. To her knowledge, a human had never been allowed to live once they were attacked. But, she'd figure out something...no matter what.

She walked over to the front door to wait for her ever growing band of ride-alongs to join her. Noah was the first one to meet her there and by his dark expression, she could tell that his phone call had not gone well.

"Bad news?" she asked unnecessarily.

"You might say that," Noah answered. "My father won't call off his people."

"I never thought he would," she shrugged.

"I tried to reason with the stubborn mule's ass, but he has a skull as dense as a tree trunk!" Noah growled out. "I told him I was with you and that if he killed you, he'd been killing his own blood."

"How did that go over?" she questioned

"Eh. I'm to be killed on sight," he shrugged unceremoniously.

Bethalie couldn't keep her mouth from falling open in shock. What the hell kind of father would order a hit on his own son!

"Don't worry about it. I've been ordered dead a few times over the years for disobedience. My father will eventually call off that order, but I don't think he'll call off the order on you. He does enjoy revenge and my sister...was the apple of his eye."

"Would you hate me if I put him down?" she wondered. "If he doesn't come to his senses, that is?"

"I've...half...sired you, Bethalie. You're mine to look after. If my father doesn't come to his senses, I'll have to put him down."

She didn't want to deprive anyone of his father, but having to evade Vampire assassins was already interfering with her work and her life span.

Noah let out a hard breath. "I've asked my mother to try and reason with him. I'll give her a couple of days. If we're still not dead and my father refuses to stop behaving like a petulant child, I'll see that he's dealt with."

"If we're still alive in a couple of days, I'll give you a chance to put him down. If you can't, I will," she said, finding it rather strange that they were discussing ending the life of Noah's father in such a casual, conversational way. "I assume your family's business will fall into good hands?"

She didn't want the world's supply of synthetic food to be harmed or halted, but if it needed to be done, then Daddy Grey was going down.

"It'll fall to me. I'm the only heir now. My mother has no idea how to run things."

"You do?" she asked him.

"I do. I hope he'll see reason, though. I don't want that business," Noah stated.

"Why?" she queried, honestly confused. It would seem like a nice, cushy job.

"Too many enemies. Someone's always trying to get their hands on the recipe, so to speak. It's a nuisance," he explained.

She could see how that might be an annoyance...

"I'm ready," Evyn said, appearing with her computer and wearing her favorite jean jacket with the weird little studs on the collar. "I still think I should stay here, though."

Noah gave his head an adamant shake. "No. You really shouldn't."

Something in his tone caused a shiver to tingle up Bethalie's spine, prompting her to wonder just how many Vampires were coming after her?

Mace walked over and handed Bethalie her phone. "I called my family and my producer. I told them everything's as right as rain."

Evyn shot her a surprised glance. "Well, we're just breaking all sorts of rules now."

"You aren't going to hand Tuck over?" Noah asked, slightly offended.

Bethalie ignored him. "Does everyone have everything they need? Mace, your batons? Evyn, all your techie stuff? Does anyone need to pee?" Why did she feel like a mother trying to herd her kids out the door?

"We're good," Mace said, grinning crookedly.

"I'm going to try to keep you alive, Donovan, so I expect you to pull your weight in this little operation," she warned. "It's your job to watch out for Evyn. Keep her safe. That's your only concern."

"I'll keep Evyn safe. You have my word," Mace swore, lifting his fingers in the age old Scout's salute.

"Thank you." He could watch out for Evyn, Evyn could watch out for him. Two birds, one stone.

"Are you really refusing to hand Tuck over?" Noah demanded as they all trooped out the front door and into the elevator.

She declined to respond because she did not want to discuss the issue with Noah. It had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

"Bethalie, are—"

"Drop it or I swear to God..." she warned, not wanting to whip out her batons and beat him into a pulp, but fully prepared to if need be.

"Fine!" he grumped, folding his arms and shrinking back into the corner of the space.

Vampires! They bring a girl back from the dead and suddenly they're all clingy and involved!

The elevator landed in the garage and Noah was suddenly past her, standing guard as he opened the gate and not stepping out until he was satisfied that it was safe. Once he was certain the garage was clear, he allowed everyone to exit and head toward the van. The air was thick with the scent of lye and another scent that choked the air right out of Bethalie's lungs. It was absolutely the scent of bodies being burned by The Mix, but usually the lye and herbs kept most of the odor at bay.

Burning flesh had not been a pleasant thing to smell or taste when she'd been...completely her. Now that she was...half something else, it was overwhelming. That bitter, rancid odor was repulsive and it assaulted her sense, filling her nostrils and landing on her tongue, coating her taste buds, which caused her stomach to revolt. Before she could try and stop it, she doubled over and retched onto the floor, losing all the food she'd eaten.

"Bethalie!" Evyn cried in horror.

"Get her outside!" Noah ordered. "I can't touch her."

Evyn and Mace each took hold of her shoulders and pulled her across the garage, out the front door, and onto the sidewalk. The cool, clean air struck her in the face and she drew in several long breaths, trying not to throw up again.

Damn. She was falling apart. That was all there was to it. What good was a Ward who fainted, threw up at the first gross smell that she encountered, and had to fight not to lap up any blood she spilled from her targets? None! That kind of Ward was not a bit of good to anyone!

"Bethalie, what's the matter?" Evyn asked, her voice unsteady. "What's going on?"

"We should get her back upstairs," Mace said. "She can't go out like this."

"No. I-I'm fine," she croaked hoarsely, trying to shrug their hands off, but they were holding her as if they thought she might fly apart if they let go.

"You are not fine, Bethalie!" Evyn scolded. "This is not you being fine! You're sick!"

"I am not sick. I promise. It was just the smell. It hit me kind of hard," she said, still trying to shake them off.

"The smell of lye? It never bothered you before," Evyn accused.

The tremor in Evyn's voice made her refrain from telling her that it wasn't the lye. "It's been a long day, that's all. I'll be alright."

A horn honking from inside the garage made everyone jump. Bethalie fumbled for the remote and hit the garage door button, allowing Noah to back the van into the street.

"Bethalie, you can't work!" Evyn argued. "Not like this!"

"Evyn, I'm okay," she said sternly. "Get into the van."

Evyn heaved a frustrated sigh and let go of her, stomping away toward the van. Bethalie and Mace started after her, Mace keeping his arm around her as they walked. And it was a good thing because her legs felt as weak as water. Grrr! She could slice the head off a Darksider with a pocket knife and never even bat an eye, but throwing up nearly took her out! How sad was that?

Evyn pulled open the door and climbed into the back, while Mace made sure Bethalie got into her seat in the front passenger side. He pulled the seat belt strap out, but Noah suddenly snatched it from his hands, a menacing growl erupting from his throat.

"Take care of your own woman, Tuck!" he rumbled through his teeth. "I will care for Bethalie!"

Mace, seemingly taking no offense, heaved a sigh and climbed into the back, shutting the door behind him, and Noah clicked the seatbelt into place, carefully avoiding brushing against her coat.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he questioned, his tone brusque.

If she was asked that one more time, someone was going to bleed. "Evyn, give Noah directions to William Black's."

She was going to question a Vampire who worked the graveyard shift at a call center. She wasn't heading out to fight an army of hungry, flesh eating Narloch Demons. She was pretty sure she could manage.

She was pretty sure...

*  *  *  *  *  *

William Black lived on the outskirts of a residential section north of town, just a stone's through from the boat harbor, in a tiny little house with a well-kept yard, white curtains at the windows, and a black Prius sitting in the driveway, leading her to figure that this particular Vampire had to be cool on a tight budget. Noah pulled the van into the driveway and cut the engine and she jumped out before anyone could try and stop her.

"Everyone stay here," she said, slamming her door shut. A bare second later, she heard another door slam, and Noah was on her heels before she took ten steps. "I told everyone to stay put!" she snapped, making her way across the lawn and toward the front door of the house.

"They aren't getting out," Noah said, falling into step beside her.

"I meant you, too," she pointed out through clenched teeth.

He let out a chuckle—or was it a snort—and didn't even pretend to feel bad about disobeying her direct order and she decided then and there that the whole Vampire sire/defender thing was swiftly becoming a pain in her ass!

Bethalie stomped up the three concrete steps and knocked on the front door, trying to elbow Noah away from her, with only minimal success. "He might not open the door if he sees you looming out here behind me," she said, reaching back to swat at him.

"Then I'll kick the door in," Noah said casually.

"Or you could go wait in the van and let me handle this!" she suggested none too amicably.

A terse humph was Noah's riposte.

When no one answered, she knocked again, harder. Several minutes and much annoying knocking later, the door opened a crack and she was greeted by a very handsome, albeit suspicious, face with wide brown eyes that ran over her and then flickered over her shoulder to Noah.

"William Black?" she asked.

"What do you want, Ward?" he demanded in a scratchy voice.

"I need to speak with you about Adam Turner and Jack Dunning," she stated, getting right to the point.

"Sorry. Haven't seen them in weeks," he replied, stepping back and slamming the door in her face.

Anger zipped through her belly and she gave the door a couple of hard bangs with her fist. "Open up before I lose my patience, William!" she called out.

There was no response from inside the house. Anger turned to rage in a flash. She hated repeating herself! Adrenaline surged through her limbs and before she even realized what she was doing, she stepped back and smashed her boot into the front door. She heard the crack and splinter of wood and felt the impact in her body...and then the world seemed to get all scrambled up.

There was a blur of motion and sound that she couldn't quite grasp and she could feel her body being jolted and jarred and then, just as fast as the world disappeared, things abruptly sorted themselves out...and she found herself standing over William Black, her boot on his throat, his wide eyes staring up at her in utter astonishment. Her batons were clutched in her hands and she could see harsh burn marks on William Black's face and naked upper body.

For an instant, her brain tried to make sense of what had happened, but all she could come up with were a few quick images of herself striking William with her batons as he was running away, and that was as far as her memory went.

"Bethalie? Are you with me?" Noah asked from beside her, his tone rather...uneasy.

She couldn't answer that with any amount of certainty just then, so she offered him a shrug, keeping her attention on the shocked Vampire beneath her boot heel.

"What the hell is going on here!" William demanded as he gaped up at her. "I thought you were a Ward!"

"I am," she told him, her voice surprisingly normal. "And I just came to ask you some questions. This wasn't necessary."

"You kicked my door in! You don't have the right to do that!" William growled, enraged.

"I actually do," she replied, taking her boot off his throat, which allowed him to jump to his feet and stumble backward, away from her. "Now, tell me about Adam Turner and Jack Dunning."

Now that he was standing, she realized that he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts, of course, because he'd been slumbering. And then she realized that all along his torso, on both sides of his ribcage, were more garish burn marks left behind by her assault on him.

"I don't have anything to tell you! I said I haven't seen them in weeks! Are you deaf!" William Black snapped at her.

"I'm not asking whether or not you've seen them lately. I know you haven't. I want you to tell me why, the last time you did see them, you decided to kill them," she stated matter-of-facty, tapping her baton against the side of her thigh.

"What!" he hissed at her, his blistered face registering disbelief. "Are you out of your mind, Ward!"

That seemed an unfair question, given her current situation, so she chose to ignore it. "I have information stating that you met with them regularly at Stoney's Pub. Why don't you tell me about those meet ups, William."

William Black gaped at her...though, she could clearly detect a flash of fear behind his wide eyes. "I-I don't know what you're talking about!"

She didn't want to do this the hard way, but clearly William Black was not in a co-operative mood. "But, of course you do. Now, about those little gab fests that led to you snuffing out two of your buddies--"

"You are out of your mind!" William cut her off, looking at her as if she was speaking a long dead language. "I didn't snuff out anybody! And I don't have anything else to say to you!"

Bethalie let out a breath. Why could things never be easy? "Oh, William, you might want to reconsider your position--"

"I'm finished with this! Now, leave my house, Ward!" William commanded, his dark eyes going milky and his lips curling back as he showed her his fangs.

Well, she'd tried. The hard way it was.

Her batons were swinging, slicing through the air and striking William's bare thighs, sending him reeling backwards. She followed, striking his right knee with one baton and his left ankle with the other. William roared, as much from the pain of the strikes as from the pain of the silver blistering his skin on contact, but the strikes didn't put the Vampire on the ground, and surprisingly, he managed to launch himself at her, his clawed hands clamping down onto her shoulders. That action brought a gutteral scream up from his throat as the threads in her coat singed the flesh of his palms, forcing him to release his grip.

Almost instantaneously, Noah was seizing hold of the Vampire and bodily flinging him across the room. William flew through the air like a rag doll, crashing against the farthest wall of the living room and falling to the floor amid a hail of sheetrock and dust. Almost before he could touch the carpet, Bethalie found herself on top of him, the blade of her Bowie knife pressed to his neck and the barrel of her .45 against his forehead. The scent of his burning flesh assailed her nostrils and her stomach rebelled, but she fought it aside.

"You'll talk to me or you'll die right here," she told him, putting pressure on the knife blade and sending a waft of smoke rising up from the Vampire's skin.

William howled in agony. "Get off me, Ward! This hurts like hell!" he rumbled through gritted teeth.

"You're going to cooperate, William. Otherwise...I'm going to lose my patience," she warned, lifting a brow at him.

It was the last chance she would be giving him.

Something akin to terror washed over William's face and his milky eyes were suddenly back to brown. "Fine! Just get the hell off me!"

He was pretty feisty for someone with a big old .45 Recon jammed into his face. But, she obliged, standing up and swiftly holstering her gun and sheathing her knife. She didn't even remember pulling them out or putting her batons away...

William was then on his feet in front of her, covered in sheet rock dust and dark, purple-ish blisters, his shoulders sagging as he huffed out a breath of relief. "I don't know what you want to hear from me, Ward, but you're out of your head if you think I've killed anybody! Let alone Jack and Adam!" he spat gruffly, giving her something of a death glare.

"Well, someone killed them both, William. And the only common thread I've managed to find between them is you and your bunch from Stoney's," she pointed out.

"So, I have a few drinks with them now and then! Stoney's is a public place! I cross paths with a lot of people in there!" the Vampire grumbled at her.

"Oh, I happen to know that you've more than crossed paths with Turner and Dunning," she pointed out. "I'm aware of the little club the six of you are involved in. And I'm thinking that's what got them both dead."

William stared at her for a few seconds, his mouth hanging open...and a good amount of discomfort wafting through his eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about! I didn't know they were dead!"

"So you say. But, I say that Turner and Dunning were running their mouths about what you and your buddies get up to, so you decided to shut them up," she lobbed that accusation at him, watching his reaction.

She figured she wasn't giving anything important away by revealing that the two Vamps were dead. Word would get out sooner rather than later anyway. It always did.

William looked blank for a moment. "The last I heard, you were out for them, Ward. Didn't you put them down? And I'm not getting up to anything!"

"Someone else got to them first. And I'm pegging you or it," she posed that possibility to him.

A scoffing snort flew out of the Vampire. "Come on, Ward! If someone out there is doing your job for you, that's on you! It has nothing to do with me!"

"I disagree, William," she said. "And you're skirting around the main reason as to why I disagree with you."

"And what reason is that, Ward?" he shot at her, suddenly sounding rather casual, despite his present circumstance.

She heard herself let out a breath. "I hate repeating myself, William. It makes me testy." She felt her hand on the hilt of her .45. "Both you and I know that Turner and Dunning were part of the circle jerk you and your buddies have going. They knew about every offense the lot of you have committed. Keeping them quiet so you don't get put down isn't outside the realm of possibility."

William, some of the fear returning to his expression, stiffened his shoulders. "If you're here to put me down, Ward, then make sure its something I'm guilty of. And I am not guilty of killing Adam or Jack!"

"Well, maybe you didn't do anything to them. Maybe one of your other friends did. Or maybe the lot of you threw in together. That'd make it more difficult to point the finger at anyone in particular." She was just pulling stuff out of her ass...but it seemed to be rattling William.

"Look, I had nothing to do with whatever happened to those two!" William insisted, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "But, if you think its got something to do with...with our social circle, then go talk to the others! Talk to Jurgen Van Cleeve or Nate DeKirk!"

Bethalie caught just a whiff of something in William's tone that tickled her senses. "You think your friends would snuff out one of their own if it came down to it?"

"Not all of us would. I wouldn't. Lance Morgan wouldn't. He's just a Warlock. A weak little oik who's scared of his own shadow. But, Jürgen, he's got a temper. He's gotten kicked out of Stoney's a few times for brawling. If he thought someone crossed him, he might put them down," answered William, seeming very forthright.

He might put them down, but would he drain them? Van Cleeve was a Vampire, so he wouldn't need to slit wrists in order to kill. Frankly, none of the other Vampire's in the group would need to do that. Not unless they were into maiming and torturing. But, would a pissed off Vamp who'd offed his buddies out of retribution be so careless as to leave the bodies just lying around where any human might stumble upon them?

"So, you do think its possible that Turner and Dunning could have crossed the group? Maybe they were blabbing about your offenses or thinking of turning you in to make a nice payday for themselves?" she wondered.

"Anything's possible," was the Vampire's riposte. "Someone obviously turned them in. I wouldn't have thought one of us would have done anything like that, but...the Narc-line does pay well, I hear."

The man sounded incredibly forthright as he spoke and if she didn't know better, she'd have to think he was telling the truth.

"There's no honor among thieves, I reckon?" she posed. "Or, in this case, offenders."

Her words caused William to stiffen with overt dread. "I-I...you have no proof that I've committed any offense—"

"Its alright, William," she cut him off, waving his words away. "I don't have time to worry about you right now. But, at this point, you are on my radar, so the smart money lays in keeping your nose clean."

He gave a halting nod, clearly not sure whether he could believe his luck or not.

"So, are there any other helpful tidbits you can cough about your buddies, including Turner and Dunning?" she went on. "Do they have mutual friends or date in the same circles? Do they hang out at the same clubs or frequent the same parties?"

If Turner or Dunning were put down for running their mouths, it could have been that they were boasting about their own offenses, as well as their friends. Which could have led to a bit of vigilante justice. Perhaps because...they had chomped on someone they shouldn't have, someone connected to the people they running their mouths to. Darksiders did sometimes befriend and couple up with humans, after all.

"I can't tell you anything about any of them!" William snapped, annoyed now that he knew he wasn't about to meet his fate. "I don't talk about anything personal and I don't ask about anything personal. Its not a luncheon club!"

Letting out a long breath, Bethalie knew that she wasn't going to get anything more out of William. Not that she'd gotten anything overly useful anyway. But, had he known every detail of his friends' personal lives, he certainly wouldn't have offered them up to the likes of her. Not without a bit of...physical coercion. And she just wasn't in the mood to spend the hours that it could take to loosen a stubborn Vampire's tongue.

"Well, I suggest you stay visible, William," she stated. "If you run and hide, I might think you had something to do with those deaths after all. And if I have to chase you, there's no telling what I might do when I find you."

That said, she turned and walked across the room, a little surprised to see the front door hanging from one hinge and the door jamb sagging away from the wall. She did not remember kicking the door that hard...

Noah stopped her at the bottom step by suddenly appearing in front of her. "Bethalie," he began, but she held up a hand to cut him off.

"This isn't the time, Noah. I-I...we'll discuss it later." She sidestepped him and headed for the van. Whatever the hell it was! Well, she knew what it was, she just didn't want to think about it at the moment!

Bethalie climbed into the van only to be met by concerned stares from Evyn and Mace, who had obviously seen her little entrance into William's house. Evyn opened her mouth to speak, but she shook her head at the woman. "I'm not discussing it right now. I'm working."

Why did everyone suddenly want to talk about every little thing! So, she'd died—briefly—and Noah and brought her back! So, she wanted to lap blood up off the floor! So, she could suddenly burst through a door with one effortless kick and could move so fast that even she couldn't keep up with herself! So, what! Did they have to pick it to death! Clearly, she was slowly becoming a Vampire!

And talking about it wouldn't change a thing.