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January 19, 2003

Marshall plunged his eyeteeth into Mr. Barnes' thick neck. Drained her quickly. She never woke. Sated, he pulled a silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket, dabbed the corners of his mouth, and replaced it.

Having no time for shock or horror I tried indignation. "You've not right to my victims!" I shouted. "Isn't this against protocol, the rules, or something? I haven't been at this long but isn't it dangerous for us to be together – let alone compete for prey – away from home?"

"My dear boy," he replied, "you have no idea what you're doing do you?"