The next day, while scrutinizing myself closely in the mirror mounted on the back of my bedroom door to see if I could see the mysterious, invisible energy Zil spoke of radiating off of me, Rhys called. He hadn't found anything more about Cemetery Raven or Cortland Bridge than I had. He'd also asked to hang out. I declined, promising we would later.

I needed to be alone to think about, and absorb, everything Zil had told me about his life. Because of what he was, I had no other choice but to believe him – and it was a lot to take in!

Knowing him for what he truly was, was a privilege, but it was a burden, as well – and in carrying his secret, I was, by default, caught up in his lie. But I was determined. Even if it was more than I could handle, I'd withstand it, just to see if I could. To know Zil was a vampire, and to look him in the eye and not be afraid ... mind blowing! It was more than what any other mortal could claim. And as crazy as it might be, my new-found knowledge had strengthened my belief that my friendship with him could make it possible to experience places no other ghost hunter had ... and to one day see my parents. Even if I was wrong, it brought me peace to think I might.

But despite that, in the end, I knew it had been difficult for Zil to reveal his secret. He'd sacrificed a lot by telling me – and I respected him for it.

Prepared to test myself, and despite not making plans to meet with Zil, I left my house at nightfall for Cemetery Raven. But when I'd nearly reached the end of my street, I could see he wasn't there. Undeterred, I crossed the road to wait for him at the graveyard gate.

After some time had passed, and Zil still hadn't come, I looked behind me to the tomb. He wasn't outside of it. Assuming his absence meant he regretted sharing that part of his life with me, and had chosen to avoid seeing me because of it, I left and headed for downtown, specifically for The Paranormal Shop to look for ghost hunting equipment.

The little bell above the door tinkled cheerily as I entered the store and walked to where the investigative devices were. At first, nothing caught my attention. But when the employee behind the counter picked up something resembling a walkie-talkie and gazed at it with exaggerated interest, I paused.

Casually, he said, "This is an EMF detector. Hunters of the paranormal use it to measure a spirit's energy."

"Do you have anything I can use to communicate, you know – in real time?"

"A recorder can do that, but ..." He reached down into a glass display case, removed three devices, and placed them onto the counter. "These can help." Pointing to each one, in turn, he began his sales pitch. "A thermal detector. It shows an object as blue or purple for cold, and yellow, orange or red for heat. A Rem Pod. This can be placed on the ground or on a table. It lights up if a ghost is nearby and can measure the spectre's energy. Finally, the Ovilus. This beauty is hand-held and has a screen where you can read what the ghosts are saying." Smiling slyly, he said, "Huge hit for paranormal seekers. Interested?"

Because the possibilities were limitless with equipment designed specifically for ghost hunting, I bought all three, ready to test them all out. But when I stepped outside, I was undecided which cemetery to go to. If by going to Cemetery Raven, Zil saw me, he might think I was using ghost hunting as an excuse to look for him. Instant disqualifier. That left two others – Wildwood, which was close, or the more remote Greenwoods Cemetery, located at the edge of town. Deciding in favor of less interference for better outcome for my investigation, I started down the sidewalk in the direction of Greenwoods.

Halfway down the block, I caught sight of Zil. He was ahead of me, across the street, headed in the same direction I was. I started to hurry to catch up to him, but he turned left into one of the alleyways of the seedy section. Given its reputation, and the possible dangers one might face, I couldn't understand why he'd go there, but allowing impulse to override good judgment, I crossed the street and took the same corner he had.

The moment I entered the alleyway, I hesitated. It was vacant and quiet and, because of its close, sleazy space, there was very little light to see by. Zil had said there were others like him, and in a place like that, being undecided for too long whether to go further in, or leave, might not bode well for me. I made my decision ... to enter into a fool's mission and follow him like a self-sacrificer – and all for curiosity's sake. Hopeful I'd come out of it alive, I started in, headed toward an unknown destination.

Startled by a loud scraping sound of a metal object breaking the eerie stillness, I watched the pipe I'd accidentally kicked skitter across the pavement and hit an opposite brick wall. Cursing under my breath, I waited to see if anyone would come to investigate what had caused the racket. But when no one did, I continued to the next turn and slowly rounded the corner.

Up ahead, in a street partially closed off by other brick buildings, people were milling about. Unsure of who, or what, I'd find, I kept close to the wall as I cautiously approached the opening and peered out from the shadows.

Like a stereotypical, broken-down urban drag, the place was the epitome of grimy desolation; littered with newspapers and filth. Partially cloaked in darkness due to the only few functioning streetlamps among other useless poles with cracked bulbs, the sparse light added to the forsakenness of the place. Shadows cast into alleyways and alongside buildings, many with broken windows, made it so anyone, or anything, could remain hidden from view.

But in spite of it, in the center of the ruin, ambling aimlessly and filtering in and out of the gloom, 'The Forgotten Ones', those who would create a scene by their presence, degenerates all of them, moved and mixed together. Zil wasn't among them, but in the center of the street, in the middle of passersby, stood an unusually tall man juggling many odd things; a pan, bricks, balls, and even a shoe – all astoundingly, inhumanly fast!

Stepping closer to the edge, I looked to my right. Leaning against a building with broken windows, diagonal to my hiding spot, was Zil. Casual and at ease, he watched the crowd. But I knew it was a façade. Someone like him, a vampire, wouldn't go to a place like that for the scenery, or just to hang out. He had a darker, more sinister reason – and it scared me to my core. But in spite of that, as demented as it was, I wanted to see what he'd do as much as I feared seeing him do something that would change my mind about still being his friend – and then get the hell out before I fell victim to someone else's bad intentions.

I heard someone muttering. Headed in my direction, a short, heavy-set drunken man was lumbering along the sidewalk. To avoid being seen by him so he wouldn't alert those there of my presence, including Zil, I backed into the shadows. Slurring his words, he halted at the center of the opening to the alleyway I was in, thrust his hand into his pants' pocket, and pulled something out. After staring at it with disgust for a moment, he dropped fabric lint to the ground and then continued in his stumbling way down the sidewalk and into the murky darkness, out of sight. I moved back to the edge of the building.

Zil was no longer where he'd been. Urgently, I searched ...

"Ashe?"

I whirled around, defensively swinging the bag I still held at ... Rhys! He was behind me.

"Whoa! What the ...?"

"What are you doing here?" I whispered hoarsely.

"I saw you and followed." With clear disapproval, he added, "Did you bring your equipment here to try to ghost hunt with, or have you given that bad habit up for one that's worse, and more dangerous?"

"Not exactly. I ..."

"Is this why you've been so scarce? This about the French guy, isn't it?"

"No, and his name is Zil."

With a quick glance at the crowd, Rhys said, "We don't need to be here. Let's go."

I turned to look for Zil again ... and found him. Standing in the middle of the street very still, he was staring straight ahead, eyes locked.

I followed his gaze.

Two men, near a large dumpster at the opening of an alley, were arguing. Suddenly, the larger man advanced on the other, and something flashed as he jabbed the smaller one hard to the stomach, making him cry out. With his hand over his abdomen, the smaller man stumbled into the light – and I could see blood oozing from where he'd been stabbed. As the bigger man watched coldly, his victim crumpled to his knees. Then, with obvious struggle, and still clutching at his seeping wound, he got to his feet and staggered away into the crowd and out of sight.

Smiling smugly at the brutal crime he'd just committed, the bigger man started to saunter away, but slowed when he saw a small, black dog with its tail tucked and ears flattened crouched near a fence where it was chained. As it watched the crowd, the canine noticed the man standing a few feet away. Staring at him with enlarged eyes, and visibly shaking, the dog kept close to the ground as it tried to back up.

"Out here all alone, are you, pup – and with no one to care, or protect you? Well ... easy pickin's ... and just when I needed something to kick around. C'mon, little runt – let's play!"

Leering at the dog, the brute began to circle it like a lion slowly stalking its prey. The small canine rose slowly and started to rotate away from him the best it could, being tethered until, laughing cruelly, the man pretended to lunge. With a loud yelp, the dog pulled on its leash hard enough that it might cause serious injury, and as it continued its fight to free itself from the restraint, the man laid his head back and began to howl. Others, walking by, laughed. But no one, including the dog's absent owner, attempted to stop him. Finally, he quit. Eyeing the terrified pooch, he kicked at it – but missed. Over the dog's pitiful cries, almost drowned out by the noise created by each desperate pull on the metal fencing as it shook back and forth, the man began to swear loudly. He kicked out a second time, but lost his balance, and as he stumbled backwards, the dog began a frenzied barking. Finally, it stopped. Panting heavily and shaking severely, it watched the man closely.

As he stared back at the cowering pooch, the man's expression turned hard. "Now I'm gonna have some fun. Stabbing that scumbag wasn't as much fun as kicking you like a football will be."

My mouth opened in a silent scream as his leg swung out again at the dog – it'd jumped aside to avoid being kicked ... but to the point of near-strangulation!

A sudden fury took over. I no longer cared who saw me. Searching the alley for something I could use as a weapon against him, I spotted a long, narrow piece of metal near the opposite wall. I dropped my bag, stalked over to it, and snatched it up. Gripping it tightly, I started out of the alleyway.

Rhys pulled me back.

I tore my arm from his grasp. "Let go – now!"

"Wait." He pointed.

Zil was already headed in the direction of the man and the dog.

Rhys slowly released me as I watched Zil closely to see what he would do, prepared to still go out there if it wasn't enough. He approached the man and started to speak, but it was hard to hear him over the crowd.

"You need to stop what you are doing."

Clearly irritated by the interruption, the man stepped up to Zil. "And who's gonna make me?"

"Leave the dog alone, or unchain him so he can fight back," Zil replied calmly.

With his eyes locked on Zil, the man reached behind him to his waistband and slowly brought out the knife he'd used against the other man. He waved it in the dog's direction, and the dog groveled lower to the ground. "First this flea-bitten bag's gonna get it, and then ..." he waggled it in Zil's face. "you."

Zil didn't flinch. "Show mercy and turn him loose."

Through gritted teeth, the man snarled, "Why?"

"Because he is one of God's creatures."

"He ain't nothin'! He's just a mangy-assed mutt. Why should I care what happens to him?"

Zil, brazen and unrushed, reached down and snapped the dog's chain, setting it loose. Tail tucked, the dog tore off down the street.

Flushed with anger, the man leveled his knife at Zil. "Say your prayers, champ. You picked the wrong place to be a Good Samaritan and now you're going to die!"

With his lip slightly curled, Zil was insulting. "Is that your only weapon?"

"It's the only one I need. You got somethin' better?"

"I think so."

"Then let's see it," the man challenged.

Caught up in the moment, I stepped out from the alley. As scary as it'd been for me to see Zil as he truly was, I wanted to watch as closely as I dared the man's realization the very second Zil lost the illusion of what looked so human, his mortal face – and compare the man's horror to mine. But that wasn't all I wanted. Though sick and wicked, and knowing I'd be forever scarred by it, I wanted to bear witness to Zil's punishment on the man for his cruelty with no censor and no shield to protect me from the truth – his truth, knowing that whatever he did, it would be enough.

Vampire ... Zil had morphed. His skin, the color of snow. His lips, blood red. His eyes – piercing and silver – stared fixedly at the man like a hungry, wild animal.

Gone were the defiance and rude mockery – the man had unwittingly fallen victim to someone much more dangerous. His eyes bulged ... the knife bounced along the ground as he fell back heavily against the wall. Taken by the front of his shirt, he was powerless to stop it as Zil yanked him forward, and then slammed him back so hard that the brick cracked and caved in and small shards of hardened red clay crumbled to the ground. Wheezing, he stared at the monster before him as Zil released his hold and then took him by his throat ... and moved forward so that barely an inch was between them.

Zil smiled slowly, his fangs on full display ... but only for a moment before it faded again. Somberly, but with clear mock boredom, he said, "Such an unfair advantage. I have two, while you only have one."

Suddenly, his victim began to struggle to free himself. He rasped, "Let go of me!"

Zil's only response was to stare at the man with a wild viciousness and push him harder against the wall and lift him so his feet were off the ground. He reached up and tried to pry Zil's hand from his neck. He couldn't – and no one seemed to notice or care.

Rooted in place, I ignored everyone and everything. But when Zil put his face to his victim's and said something in a voice too low for me to hear, an involuntary shiver went through me.

Gradually, the man stopped struggling and seemed to listen. A moment later, Zil moved back slightly so all the man could see was the vampire before him ... and the lout began to sob. Then, in an incredible display of power, Zil, still holding his captive suspended above the ground, dragged him across the rough brick surface and down into a nearby, dark alley.

It was deeply frightening, and I was immersed. I'd even forgotten Rhys was there, until he said, "Breathe, Ashe, or you'll pass out, land in something disgusting, and then be volcanic because you missed your mercenary hero."

He was talking too much, ruining the horror of the moment! I dropped the steel pipe and dashed through the crowd with one thing on my mind – to find Zil and his victim!

I went to the alley and found them within the shadows, mostly hidden from view – and I understood why Zil had taken him there, separated him from the crowd.

No witnesses.

The suspense was terrible as I waited for the man's fate to unfold.

"What are you doing?" Rhys whispered hoarsely from behind me.

I didn't answer – I couldn't. It was all so ghastly ... and incredible.

The man whimpered and started to beg.

Zil placed his hand against his captive's forehead and slowly moved the man's head back until it came to rest against the roughened wall. Then, Zil put his finger to his lips. "Shhh ..."

Lightening fast ... the man's head came forward and then bashed against the wall – Zil bit into his neck.

I didn't look away. Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't.

Zil straightened. Keeping faced to the wall, he released the corpse. It slid down his body and slumped to the ground at his feet.

There were no words to help explain how I felt. No matter how hard I'd ever try, Zil's primal side, his savagery, would forever be burned into my mind – worlds apart from the Zil I knew. He was complex – a vampire, who could kill without restraint, yet he was good, too, having somehow maintained a sort of humanity that allowed him to feel and to care for others.

I glanced behind me at Rhys. His expression was so many things – disbelief, shock, and horror. He broke away and dashed out of there.

I looked again to Zil. He turned – and his eyes met mine. Suddenly my arm was in his firm grasp and we were leaving. His voice was gruff, "I need to get you out of here."

As he hurriedly led me away from the alley, I craned to look behind us. With two holes in his neck, and soaking in his own filth, the man lay on the dirty ground staring lifelessly after us.

The second we exited the slum onto Main Street, I tore free of Zil's hold and ran in the direction of home.

I could see Rhys ahead of me, still running. Outdistanced, I raced after him, but only when we'd reached our street, I yelled for him to stop.

Panting, he halted and turned to face me with unfriendly eyes.

When I caught up to him, I wheezed heavily, "I can explain."

It was a lie. I couldn't – there was no way to justify what he'd seen, even though he had seen it, and knew what Zil was.

"Explain what? Was that him?" he practically shouted, his arms waving in the direction of town.

"Yes."

"Zil bit that guy and killed him! Jeez-us, Ashe – that's who you've been asking around about?"

"I didn't know at first, but I met him and found out he's ... not like you and me. He's ..." Bracing against what Rhys' response might be, I said, "He's a ... vampire. Unbelievable, but true."

His gaze turned slightly more hardened.

"Like ghosts, Zil ... vampires, exist. I wanted to tell you, but I know how preposterous it is, and ..." I paused. "I'm sorry you saw him like that."

"How did you find out? Did he just say it, or did he introduce you to the ghosts he's created from his victims?"

"I watched him walk into a tomb. The next night, I followed and when he got up, he looked like ... what we just saw. I thought he'd kill me, but – he didn't."

"You ... stalked a vampire? You're certifiable!"

"In my defense, I didn't like that he knew where I lived and I had no clue how to find him. Sort of unbalanced there. Besides, I thought he was breaking in. I didn't know he lived there."

"One has to be alive to live, Ashe. And as far as being unbalanced ..." He snorted. "You just walked in? You could've ended up as his carry-in food! So, that wasn't bullshit? He's really ...?" Rhys looked skyward. "I can't even say it."

Rhys' anger and shock were understandable. But there was another side to it – Zil's. He'd protected me, even when I wasn't aware of it. Knowing it would make things worse if I said that to Rhys, I kept it to myself.

"It