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Spencer glowered at Pete's satisfied smirk as Patrick switched on the electric current that ran through the bars of the cage.

“This is going to hold you Spencer, until we figure out what you really want,” Patrick announced.

“What do you mean `What I really want'? You know what I want! Beckett dead!”

“I believe you,” Patrick replied evenly.

“Then what...?”

“But I don't believe that's all you want.”

“I let you go when Beckett had you prisoners!” Spencer argued.

“Spencer, let's not pretend that was for any other reason than to bring Brendon down.”

“Don't think I'm going to help you with Wentz now! No way!”

“I didn't think you would anyway,” Patrick shrugged. “Or could, for that matter. Since when has a Dandy ever tried to help someone get off blood?”

“Then why did you invite me in?” Spencer asked, puzzled.

“So we know exactly where you are and that you can't do any harm,” Patrick explained, much to Pete's delight.

“You can wipe that grin off your face, Wentz!” he yelled from within the cage. “Don't you think you've got control!”

Spencer grew angrier as Pete remained silent but his grin widened as he stood, arms folded, watching the ex-Dandy become increasingly irate.

“You've made the mistake of your life, or death! I can't believe you actually invited me in. Do you really think I won't be able to get out of this pathetic little cage?”

Pete grinned still further. “Oh, please try!”

“Pete!” Patrick scolded, but was half laughing himself.

“Oh, but I really want to see him try, Trick.” His grin faded to an angry and bitter scowl as he stared at their erstwhile enemy, now claiming a truce, but furious at being locked up for their safety's sake. “Go on, Spence, try it. Try to escape,” he growled.

The certainty in Pete's taunting was enough to shake Spencer's confidence and he found himself trying hard to maintain the determined expression and resolve he had previously displayed.

“Well,” he shrugged with a level of hesitation that was enough to bring back faint traces of Pete's smirk. “Even if I can't, I can always get a human to let me out. Unlike you, Wentz, I mastered controlling minds. I can easily make Joe or Andy do exactly what I want, whenever I want and then I'm out of here.”

Pete waited; his expression remaining unreadable until Spencer's sense of smug arrogance returned and he stared at him with undoubted superiority. If there was one thing that Pete enjoyed more than bringing Spencer down to earth with a resounding thud, it was bringing a very self-satisfied Spencer down to earth with a resounding thud.

“Yeah,” Pete replied dismissively as he turned to walk away. “Good luck with that!”

“Wentz!” Spencer yelled as Pete and Patrick walked away, heads close together and whispering to each other. “Wentz!” he yelled again, furious to be ignored.

*

Patrick sighed deeply as they reached his office; it was obvious to anyone that he seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. In truth, he felt as though he did. Still coming to terms with his own vampirism, he was almost forced to put his own confusion and distress aside to consider Pete's more pressing and urgent concerns. Taking a seat at his desk, Patrick scanned the shelves crammed with journals, each one well used and dog-eared with the spines torn back at the top and bottom from repeated removal from their places. Reaching up, he finally selected a volume before pushing it back and retrieving the two beside it.

“That's it is it?” Pete asked cryptically.

“That's what?” Patrick asked puzzled by the comment.

“The answer to all my problems is in one of those books?” Pete's reply could have been assumed to be sarcastic or bitter, but his tone told a different story. He was afraid; afraid, nervous and unhappy.

Patrick smiled sympathetically before taking a deep breath. What could he say? This was his best friend, suffering the worst crisis in nearly two years, possibly even his life and he really wasn't certain if he could find the answers he was looking for. He wanted to be honest, he wanted to be positive but he knew he would find it hard to be both.

“We didn't know if we'd find a blend to hold off your bloodlust when you were first turned and we did, didn't we?”

“Well, you did,” Pete nodded. “But this is different. This time...”

“We'll take it slowly, we'll figure it out, Pete. I promise.”

“You can't promise, Trick, not this time.”

Patrick frowned; something in Pete's tone told him that he had already given up.

“This isn't like you, Pete. You're a fighter, we can do this.”

Forcing a faint smile, Pete all but confirmed Patrick's fears. “Be honest, Trick, you haven't got a clue what to do, have you?”

“That's where you're wrong,” Patrick smirked as he opened one journal to a blank page and the other to a page heavy with writing, addresses, phone numbers and small several small sketches of logos. “Not only do I have a clue, but I have a plan. It's all arranged.”

“Trick, I just told you about my addiction, how can it possibly be all arranged?”

From a small cabinet at the side of the desk, Patrick removed a small folder and pushed it towards Pete. Gingerly, he opened the flap and pulled out the papers inside. Reading the contents, Pete was, at first, confused then astonished at what he was reading.

“You set up as a company?” Pete gasped as he continued to read the papers.

“As a clinic,” Patrick corrected. “It's all legal and I think it's time to place our first order for blood and… a few other things.”

“You… you never said anything,” Pete finally managed.

“How could I tell you that I was preparing for the possibility that one day you'd be drawn to human blood?”

“You... You could have...”

Patrick shook his head as Pete tried to form unconvincing sentences.

“You would have been angry, Pete, you know you would. You would have assumed that I didn't trust you, that I thought that one day you'd slip... or worse.”

“I did,” Pete sighed forlornly.

“You didn't slip,” Patrick corrected.

“No, it was worse.”

“Don't, Pete,” Patrick frowned unhappily at his friend's insistence on torturing himself over turning him. “It's not worth beating yourself up over.”

“Not worth...!”

“Pete! This isn't about me!” Patrick interrupted, taking hold of Pete's arms and shaking him lightly.

“Of course it's about you! If I hadn't... if... Trick it was your blood, your life and I took it. I don't deserve any help, let alone yours.”

“Stop it!” Patrick yelled in his frustration. “We're going to deal with what's happened and that's all! Do I have to punch you out again?”

“No,” Pete smiled and almost laughed. “So...”

Both vampires turned their heads sharply at the sound of the warehouse door opening. Closing the file and both books, Patrick placed them back on the shelves in the blink of an eye.

“Joe and Andy.”

Pete nodded thoughtfully. “But not Andrea.”

The pair stared at each other concerned until the inevitable call came.

“Pete!” Andy yelled, his tone furious. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“I guess we've got some explaining to do,” Pete frowned. “But, if not him, at least they'll be happy to see you.”

“Until they find out I was the one who invited him in.”

“I'll say I did,” Pete nodded solemnly. “Nothing to do with you.”

“Pete, they already…” Patrick cut himself off sharply and wished he hadn't begun the sentence.

“Go on, you can say it - they already don't trust me.”

“I wasn't going to say that,” Patrick lied.

“Okay, so you've had a few seconds to think of something, what were you going to say?”

Patrick looked away, unable to lie again. “I don't know for sure, I'm just sensing it from them, maybe it's just because of Spencer?”

“Well, there's no point them mistrusting both of us, is there?” Pete sighed.

“You think Spencer's gonna keep his mouth shut? Any chance he gets he's gonna try to place doubt in their minds. Do we really want to add to that ourselves?”

“Can't we just kill him?” Pete asked with annoyance.

Patrick stared back, at first waiting for some sign that Pete was joking, but he wasn't. In itself, it wasn't so strange, after all they were vampire hunters, they had killed before, but somehow, it was the way he said it that rang alarm bells in Patrick's head. Pete was changing.

“Pete!” Andy yelled again, this time the voice closer as Pete and Patrick heard the accompanying footsteps.

Stepping out into the corridor, Patrick readied himself for an argument about Spencer, forgetting initially that Joe and Andy were unaware that he had been rescued.

“Patrick!” Andy called; elated to see him. Rushing forward, Andy threw his arms around his friend. “How did…? Pete?”

Pete nodded, distracted to see Joe, half run, half walk to join them.

“Andrea?” he asked as Andy released Patrick from the hug.

Joe lowered his eyes and a heavy silence fell across the corridor.

“I'm sorry, Joe,” Pete said flatly.

In his mind, Joe's thoughts were whirling. Part of him wanted to lash out. Pete had been so angry with him claiming that he cared too much for Andrea and not enough for Patrick. That he would risk Patrick's life to save his precious girlfriend and yet, here was Patrick and Andrea was gone. Lashing out wouldn't help. Pete had been wrong about him, but it wasn't going to change anything to say so.

“Yeah,” Joe choked out.

“What happened?” Patrick asked. Pete had alluded to an attack, but he wasn't certain of the details.

“Brendon attacked Andrea in her office,” Joe sighed deeply. “She never recovered.”

“Her office?” Patrick cocked his head to one side. “How did he know where she worked?”

“The Mayor's office,” Pete blurted. “Where you were. That's more than a coincidence! They must be living there.”

“They're doing more than that now,” Andy announced. “They've killed the Governor and probably the Mayor too. Beckett's invested himself as Governor and put a dusk till dawn curfew on humans!”

“He's what!” Pete cried, astonished by the news. “People aren't…”

“The only humans outside were us,” Joe confirmed.

“They're gonna hate us,” Patrick's brow furrowed at the sheer calculated guile.

“No, Trick, they're probably gonna kill us,” Andy replied, his expression as grim as the prediction.