...into the fire

            Timeaus’ hands were shaking so badly that he couldn’t keep the desk from rattling beneath them. He pulled them back and pressed them together in his lap, trying to focus on the folder of information that Achan had just set on his desk.

            “How bad is it?”

            “Bad.” Achan cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on his master with concern, “The director got back to us with the initial report, and I’m afraid that the entire city of Liberty Cross has been compromised.”

            “How is Ol’ Papa reacting to this?”

            “So far he hasn’t sent any word, but we are assured that his agent rendezvous with our team on arrival.” Achan added, “Are you alright?”

            “I’m fine.” Timeaus set his hands in his lap and scowled, “I need to feed is all.”

            “How long are you going to go this time before you drive yourself to slaughter streetwalkers again?” Achan’s voice held a note of pity mixed with disdain, and when Timeaus lifted his eyes to the man’s face, he saw a nasty sneer forming on his perfect lips.

            “Bring me one of the blood bags and stop your nagging.” he was interrupted by the sudden loud wail of the phone on his desk, which he impatiently snatched up, “Hello.”

            The other end crackled slightly and then the unmistakable voice of Ol’ Papa oozed through the line, “Timeaus. We have a problem.”

            The White Collar vampire sat straight upright, his eyes open wide, “Speak of the Devil,”

            “And he shall appear. Unfortunately, we are dealing with someone far less pleasant.” Ol’ Papa paused for a minute and Timeaus could hear him exhaling a cloud of smoke from one of his cigars, “Liberty Cross. Does it live or does it die?”

            “It is dying now.” Timeaus said softly, “From the initial report, there is little hope.”

            “And what will keep this cancer from spreading if we cannot end it here?”

            His stomach rushed up to meet him, and the shaking in Timeaus’ hands grew into a full-blown palsy. He squirmed in his chair, and tried to ignore the sweat beading on his brow, “It will be contained.”

            There was an ugly silence, and finally Ol’ Papa responded, “We are being watched, you know? There are ancient eyes watching from Europe, and if they sense weakness here they will take advantage of it.”

            “I know. One of their agents is already here.”

            “Yes. Let’s not le this get out of control, friend.” the line went dead, leaving Timeaus to ponder the Southern vampire’s particular definition of the word.