Someone to Watch Over Me

Though it had been Cara's hope that after killing her, Angelus would find no reason to return to the Pear Tree, after placing Cara in the cargo hold of the ship and setting her adrift, he did just that. First however he paid a visit to the local police department. Declining to give his name, he told authorities that he had witnessed John Williams committing the recent murders, both at 29 Ratcliffe Highway, and at The Kings Arms that night. Angel writes:

I told the police I had gone to the Arms to visit my niece, Brigid. When I arrived, I heard the commotion upstairs, then saw Mr. Williams leap out the window, covered in blood. I followed him back to the Pear Tree, so I said, where I observed him having an argument with his wife. He hit her a couple times, then dragged her away towards the docks.

 After concluding his business with the police, Angelus returned to the Pear Tree, himself, and watched from the shadows as the scene played out before him. Officers converged on the Public House, and Angelus continued to watch as John was carted out of the house, in handcuffs, one officer on each side. Behind him were two more officers, each carrying a female infant. They appeared to be twins, and each of them had strands of strawberry blonde hair poking out from their bonnets, just like Cara and Brigid.

Angelus knew this could be no coincidence, so he waited while officers hauled them away, then followed them back to the police station. There, he continued to linger about, and listened while the police took down all the pertinent information they would file in their reports. Their names, he learned, were Moira and Rebecca. John Williams, the supposed murderer, was their father, and Cara Penn was indeed their mother. His suspicions confirmed, Angelus continued to monitor them throughout their childhoods. He kept his eyes and ears open, and studied the diary he had stolen from Brigid with an obsessive quality akin to the way Anna had kept tabs on him all those years ago.

I had a rare opportunity, in January 2001, to interview Angelus' sire and long time paramour, Darla, while she was recovering from a particularly violent encounter of own, with Angel. She seemed all to happy to share with me her recollections and impressions of Angelus during that time. Of course, that could have been because she expected to be compensated with some fresh blood out of the tap (I can't imagine where she could have gotten that idea). In her weakened state, however, there was little she could to collect on such a promise.

I had no idea how deep these obsessions of his ran, until I watched him track those little girls. And I didn't understand why he wouldn't just kill him. If he wanted them that bad, why didn't he just go get them? He knew where they were, obviously. All he would say was that he wanted to wait until they could offer up more of a challenge, when they would know what was in store for them. But he never would tell me what was so special about those girls in particular. There were any number of girls that already fit that bill, but he wanted those girls.

And then there was that damned book. When he wasn't babysitting, he was studying that stupid diary as if he held the secrets to the universe. Everyday he would pour over that thing. And he took notes! I couldn't believe it. It was like he was going completely off his rocker right before my eyes. But that wasn't the worst of it. What was worse, was when he started adding things to it. Newspaper clippings from the Ratcliffe Murders. Sketches he had made of the girls on his stakeouts. Oh yeah, did I mention the sketches? Every night, he would go out and watch them, first at the orphanage, then with their adoptive families. Then he would come home and draw their pictures. Over and over again until he had them just right, the he would painstakingly paste them into that stupid book, like a new mother making her first baby book. It was sickening.

Unhappy Birthdays

Rebecca and Moira's childhood would be one plagued with a seemingly endless stream of bad luck, starting with the night their mother and aunt were brutally murdered, their father arrested for the crime. Placing the children in an orphanage proved difficult as the orphan population of the day, was vastly exceeding the space available to house them. To compensate for the overpopulation, many of the facilities adopted strict requirements for admittance, and as it was feared that accepting children with a stigma such as theirs would be inviting a similar disaster, Rebecca and Moira failed to meet said requirements. They were finally sent to the Coram Foundling Hospital, which was required, by virtue of a government grant, to accept any and all children delivered to its doors.

They remained there until 1814, when they were adopted by a couple in their mid-forties, Thomas and Celia Baker, who had so far been unable to produce children of their own and were excited by the notion of identical twins, though they were not informed of the twins' extenuating circumstances. Had they known, the Bakers might have reconsidered their choice, as in 1816, tragedy befell the Williams girls yet again. Rebecca remembers the day.

It was our fifth birthday. The whole day was like homage to us, and all we heard all day long, was what a "milestone" it was to be five years old. We didn't know what that meant, of course, but it sounded exciting, and we looked forward to the "special treat" we were to receive that night over supper.

That "special treat" turned out to be quite different from what the Bakers had intended. While the family was finishing their evening meal, and preparing to enjoy a healthy helping of birthday cake in the girls' honor, there was a knock on the door. Mr. Baker went to answer it, and finding no one on the stoop, stepped outside to investigate. When her husband failed to return after several minutes, Celia instructed her adopted daughters to remain at the table, then went to see what was keeping her husband. After what seemed like an eternity to the two five-year-olds, and neither Thomas or Celia had returned, Rebecca and Moira ventured to the front door themselves, and discovered the bodies of their adopted parents leaning against the outer door frame, their arms wrapped about each other as if they had simply sat down to admire the view. Closer inspection revealed that their necks had been broken, and that whoever had murdered them, had also arranged them in that position. The only evidence as to who or what might have perpetrated the act, was the twin puncture wounds each sported on the right side of their throats, and the single sheet of paper pinned to Mr. Baker's chest. It read simply, "Happy Birthday, Moira and Rebecca" and was unsigned. The note never made it into the police report, however, as Moira, for reasons unknown even to her, removed it before seeking help.

The twins returned to the Foundling until 1821 when they were adopted again by Philip and Emily House. Philip, aged 35, worked at a printing press, and Emily, 26, was a Sunday School teacher, who also had fondness for playing Bridge on Thursday evenings. On Friday, November 26, 1824 the twins reached another milestone, their thirteenth birthday. Their day was filled aiding in preparations for the lavish party that was to take place in their honor, later that evening. Friends and relatives of the Houses, as well as some of Moira and Rebecca's schoolmates, arrived in abundance to join in the celebration. As will sometimes happen at such events, the twins had an unfortunate encounter with a fruit drink and had to excuse themselves upstairs to change. When they returned roughly fifteen minutes later, they were horrified to discover their adoptive parents, as well as the more than twenty guests in attendance, all dead in the sitting room, and arranged in various positions about the room. More than half of the victims showed evidence of neck trauma. A note was pinned to the front door, the number 13 drawn to resemble a birthday cake with candles. As before, it bore no signature.

This time, when the twins returned to the Foundling, it was to a chorus of nervous whispers, and a sea of suspicious glances and pointing fingers. While the other children were placed together in large dormitory, Rebecca and Moira were given their own room, as the other children in the Home refused to sleep in the same room with them. It became apparent that Rebecca and Moira would never find a proper home. While employees of the Foundling did their best to conceal the girls' unfortunate history from prospective parents, the other children felt no such compunction, and were quick to share the story with any visitor to the orphanage who would listen. After all, they too were looking for families to love and care for them.

So it was that their sixteenth birthday was spent in relative silence, with little in the way of celebration. That was fine with them, given the pattern of horror that had plagued their previous "milestone" birthdays. The day passed uneventfully, and the twins went to bed that night feeling both melancholy and relieved. That relief was to be short-lived, however, for Moira awakened the next morning, November 27, 1827, to find her sister, cold and pale in her bed, her throat marred by twin puncture marks, a tiny trickle of blood issuing from her lips. As before, there were no witnesses to the crime, and no evidence that could be linked to a suspect. There was no note this time, only an ornately wrapped package placed on Rebecca's chest, her hands arranged over the top of it, as if she had merely fallen asleep with it. As you might have guessed, the package contained the same diary that has remained in my family's possession for nearly two and a half centuries.

Book and Release

As this was the third instance of murder in Moira's childhood (forth, if you count Brigid and Cara), and no other suspects could ever be named, authorities and fellow Foundling residence grew to suspect Moira. She was arrested, and would wait more than two years in prison for police to figure out that A) Moira was physically incapable of committing the previous sets of murders, and B) Moira's dental impressions did not even remotely resemble the marks found on any of the victims. Upon her arrest, The Book was confiscated as evidence, but was found to contain nothing useful and was returned upon her release in March of 1830. She reviewed The Book studiously, and upon realizing it was the story of her family, and learning that said family originated in Ireland, began a slow journey in that direction, in hopes of learning more about her birth family, and perhaps locating a long lost relative.

With no money, no marketable skill, and prison record, Moira's journey was difficult to say the least. She quickly realized that her only hope supporting herself and reaching her final destination, was to turn to prostitution. Accepting pointers from other girls in her situation, she quickly learned how to succeed in the profession. Her youthful appearance coupled with her chameleon-like ability to become whatever the customer required made her a favorite everywhere she went, and she crossed the border into Ireland faster than she would have thought possible.

As her nineteenth birthday approached, her first birthday since her release from prison, she worried that her previous tradition of birthday horrors might reassert itself, and went on high alert. Instead of stumbling upon the corpses of loved ones, however, she stumbled, quite literally, upon Sullivan's Pub, in Dublin. While passing by on November 26, 1830, during a moderately heavy fall rain, she slipped on the cobblestones in front of the entrance and lost her footing, falling right into the arms of the Pub owner's son, Daniel Sullivan, Jr. The two hit it off immediately, and the elder Sullivan, at his son's insistence, offered her a job, and a room at the Pub. It seemed at last that her birthday luck was turning around, and she was finally being released from her tradition of tragedy.

Old Habits Die Hard

Moira remained at Sullivan's for the next eight years. By day, and into the early evening, she earned her living pouring drinks, mopping spills, and chatting up the bar's patrons, much as her mother and aunt had before her. In the later hours of the evening, she supplemented these duties showcasing her talents on stage. Every night, after the family men and the other more conservative patrons had gone home for the evening, Moira would stand before the heartier fellows and belt out song after song to wolf-whistles and cat-calls, not to mention an apron full of cash that she would circulate between sets. On occasion, when the price was right, just before Mr. Sullivan closed up for the evening (or morning as the case often was), Moira would consent to receiving gentlemen in her quarters for more intimate, private performances.

Old habits die hard, she told me. And I was good at it. Why should I let good talents go to waste? Oh and did I mention the money? Yeah, that was a big part of it. The money was great, and not just for back then. With the scratch I made doing that, nevermind what I made downstairs, I could have eventually retired from that business, bought my own home, and still have plenty to live on. Except I kept wasting it on things like dresses and shoes, and useless little trinkets I bought 'cause they were shiny. And I'm sorry, but I liked what I did. I didn't really want, or see the need, to give it up. Hell, I still don't. Only now I accept a different form of payment. LiquidAssets, if you will.

Eventually, however, Moira did see a need. She continued seeing Daniel Jr., socially, and on her birthday, 1837, he proposed marriage and begged her to give up the lifestyle. She readily accepted, and agreed that she would retire, at least from giving private performances. It was Daniel's intention to be married before the end of the year, but Moira wanted to wait. She said she didn't want their marriage bed to be tainted by her former career, so they agreed to postpone their marriage plans until the following year. However, old habits do indeed die hard, and though she gave up receiving visitors in her quarters for pay, Daniel was granted private exhibitions free of charge whenever she wanted. As a result, Audra and Alexandria Sullivan were born on August 16, 1838.

Another birthday passed for Moira without the pain and sorrow that had plagued her childhood, and she finally began to believe her past was truly behind her. Her future was looking brighter every day, and she hadn't even thought about The Book since laying eyes on Daniel. 

Peter and Paul

Unbeknownst to Moira, Daniel was a habitual gambler. He was always waiting for the windfall that would change his and Moira's lives forever. With his twin daughters now to support, and his pending nuptials to Moira, his desperation to attain that windfall became increasingly desperate, and his forays to the Poker table more and more frequent. Unfortunately, the game of Poker was not one of his talents, and he found himself owing more money than he won, building up quite a bit of debt. Moira still had quite a bit of her savings, and would have gladly given him every cent, if it would have kept him out of trouble, but he never asked. He was either too proud or too ashamed to even let her know there was a problem. His solution, instead, was to continually borrow from Peter to pay Paul. Rather than relieve his troubles, this only compounded them, though it did keep Paul off his back for a time. Time was short for Daniel, though, and on December 24, 1838, Peter came to collect. Nearly two hundred years later, while waiting for my sister to awaken from a very deep sleep, Angel consented to telling me the story. As in the previous chapter, I've chosen to intercept Angel's account, with Moira's own recollections. Again, for the sake of simplicity, his words are in bold.

I had gone to Sullivan's that night intending to collect on his debt, then. I knew his father owned the Pub, but for some reason I had never been inside before that night. That's when I saw her. After eleven years of searching, there she was, wearing this… slip of a dress, singing her heart out and dancing for a bunch of drunken Irishmen. Well, dancing may have been rather broad term, but you get the idea. She was smiling and flirting and collecting money like it was going out of style. It was clear that she owned the room, and I had a hard time taking my eyes off her. Her eyes flicked toward me for an instant, and I saw her give a slight jolt, like she got a sudden stomach cramp. You know, like Dru gets sometimes? She got over it pretty quick, though, and covered it up with some kind of dance move, like she was just feeling the song. She never so much as looked my way after that, almost like she was going out of her way not to. Even when she happened to be facing that way, she kept her eyes cast down on whoever was right in front of her. And even though she made her away around to every other table, she never touched a single table in the back of the room, where I was standing. She knew.

Yeah, I knew. Even with that ridiculous mustache, I recognized him right away. Even if I hadn't remembered him from the sketches in The Book, which I didn't, my dreams, and that embarrassing stomach cramp would've tipped me off. I wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of there, but I didn't dare risk the lives of everyone in the pub by making a scene. Not to mention Daniel, behind the bar serving drinks, his father and the girls in the kitchen, or myself. So I hid my fear as best I could and went on with the show.

I finally tore my eyes off her and went to speak to Daniel, who was tending bar. He saw me coming and tried to make a getaway, but there was no where to go. So I went to the bar to discuss our business matters. Before I could get a word out, he was setting a drink in front of me and rambling on about the holidays, scared shitless. I took the shot and reminded him that while it was generous of him to buy me a drink, we both knew he owed me quite a bit more than that. He floundered a bit, then said, "Come now, Angelus. It's Christmas. Let me by you a round and we can talk about this. Like gentlemen." I didn't bother to point out that he'd already bought me a drink. I decided to let him pour to his heart's content, and took the opportunity to ask him about Moira.

I made it a point not to look at him, but I watched him for the corner of my eye. He finally left the doorway, which made it easier to concentrate, but harder to follow him. I had to be more creative. Of course, I was. Like I said, I was good at my job. I watched him sit down at the bar and start talking to Daniel. At first I thought he was just ordering a drink, but then I realized that Daniel knew him. I couldn't imagine how they knew each other, but I had enough sense to know that whatever it was they were talking about, it couldn't be good.

I saw him start to turn towards me again, and I quickly turned my head, so he wouldn't catch me looking. Then I casually turned back, and tried to envision him as just another customer, so I could keep an eye on him without interrupting the show. I smiled sorta coyly at him, and did one of my little teaser moves, like I was trying to tempt him back to the floor. Don't ask me to describe it more than that 'cause I can't. You just kinda had to be there. Then I turned again and went back to my paying customers, on the other side of the room. When I looked back again, he was talking to Daniel again, and whatever he was saying, was making Daniel real nervous.

I had him so scared he wouldn't shut up. Seriously, if I could've been there as myself while Daniel was giving up the family farm to Angelus, I would've smacked the shit out of him for not keeping his fool mouth shut. But he just kept nattering on about everything. How he and Moira were getting married that week, that she used to be a prostitute, and how even after they met, she continued to do "private shows" after hours. I took it all in and logged it for future reference, a plan already forming in my mind. Somehow he managed to keep quiet about the girls, but how he did it is beyond me.

Well, that's easy. I wasn't really aware of my powers at the time, but I knew I had this uncanny ability to get what I wanted from people, if I put my mind to it. This time what I wanted was for Daniel to shut the fuck up and get Angelus out of there. Instead I settled for Daniel keeping quiet about the twins. I thought, "Whatever else you do, don't mention the girls, Daniel. Not one word about the girls." I just kept thinking that over and over, while I tried to keep track of things from the floor.

Originally, I was going to try to keep the show going until Angelus left, so I wouldn't have to make up an excuse to beg off early to avoid any contact with him. But as I watched, I noticed Daniel was getting more nervous by the minute, and I realized Angelus wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I got Daniel's eye, and though I couldn't exactly read his mind, his look told me that it was time to close up shop. A voice screamed in my head. "Get the people out of here!" So I finished up my song, thanked my patrons, and bade them farewell. I said, "I'm getting married, you know. Got to get me beauty sleep." I knew sending everyone away like that was gonna draw some suspicion from Angelus, but by then I didn't care. I didn't have time for pretenses.

I implied to Daniel that I would be willing to let Moira work off his debt, and let him walk away free and clear. His eyes got real wide at that, and I saw him flick his gaze to Moira. Shortly after that, she surprised me by ending the show, and sending everybody out. She surprised me again, when she followed the last of the patrons to the door, and locked it, turning the "Open" sign around to "Closed". Then she walked back behind the bar, gave Daniel a kiss, and asked him to introduce me. He did, and I waited for her to react to my name, but she never did. She was already over it.

I smiled and curtsied and played the game, just like I used to on the streets of London. I refused to give any sign that anything was amiss, either to Daniel or to Angelus. Angelus was all too eager to fill me in on Daniel's little gambling problem, and the enormous debt he owed him. It was the first I'd heard of it, and it was clear Angelus was aware of that. Or at least became aware, after seeing my reaction. And it clearly gave him a happy to be the cause of strife between us.

I casually let her know that I knew how she used to earn her living, and that I might be willing to negotiate a trade, of sorts. Again I waited for the fear to register on her face, and again I was disappointed. I mean, I knew she was scared, but she wasn't showing it even little. She was good. I thought Cara had had that act down pat, but she couldn't have held a candle to Moira. Moira was a professional.

Double or Nothing

So Daniel got the bright idea to play yet another game of Poker, instead of any sort of trade involving me. The stakes would be double or nothing. If Daniel won, he would owe Angelus nothing. It would be like the debt never existed. If Angelus won, he would owe Angelus twice what he already owed, to be paid immediately. It was a terrible idea. Noble, but stupid. Angelus was going to kill us both, no matter what the outcome of the Poker game was. And let's be honest, Angelus was going to win anyway. If Daniel was any good at cards he wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. And then what? He didn't have the money, obviously. So then Angelus would just end up doing what he was going to do in the first place, and take it out of his hide. (shrugs) Or my ass. Really, we were just postponing the inevitable.

I didn't really care about the money. And I had no intention of following through on any "deal". I was playing my own game. It was all about the fear, y'know? See how far Daniel was willing to go to save his own life, what he was willing to give up. But I don't think he even realized what he was dealing with. He had no idea. Moira did, though, which is why it surprised me when she agreed to along with Daniel's suggestion.

Daniel Sr. was still in the kitchen with the girls, with apparently no idea what was goin' on out in the bar. There was nothing stoppin' him from comin' out in the middle of it all, and basically serving himself and the girls up on a silver platter for Angelus, who at the moment didn't seem to know they were there. I had to find a way to get them out and as far away as possible before they were discovered. So I smiled real big like I always did when I was performing, and said, "That's a great idea. Let's settle this like men, eh?

Then she grabbed and towel and a bottle of whisky from behind the bar with one hand, then came around the bar and wrapped her other arm around my waist and guided me over to one of the empty tables, and ordered Daniel to bring glasses over. Yes, ordered. Just like she had owned the room when she was performing for the customers, she owned the room now. This was her domain.

I sat Angelus and Daniel down at one of the tables, wiped it off, poured 'em each a drink, then excused myself upstairs to "freshen up". I didn't really expect Angelus to stand for that, but I guess had him so turned upside down, grabbin' him like that, and takin' charge like I was, that he was just like "Yeah, sure, whatever". So I go upstairs, and I pulled out one of my "special" dresses I used to put on for the high rollers, threw that on, brushed my hair out and what not, then I grabbed The Book and ran down the back stairs to the kitchen where Big Dan was babysitting. I handed him The Book, and gave him all the money I had made in tips that night and told him to take the girls away as far and as fast as he could. I said, "Take them where no one would ever find them or even think to look for them." Then I told him wherever he ended up taking them, to make sure The Book went with them. He seemed a little confused, like I'd lost my marbles, but I guess the tone of my voice convinced him I was serious, and he took the money and scooped up the girls and headed out through the back door.

 I waited 'til he was out of sight, then ran back up the stairs, past my room, and back down the main stairs to Angelus and Daniel. Angelus was as calm as a cucumber, just chillin' out like he was in complete control, but Daniel looked like he was about to piss himself, or had already. And he didn't even know what Angelus was, y'know? I mean, what did he think Angelus was gonna do? Beat the fuck out him? Waa, cry me a river. Not like that never happened to him before. Or maybe he thought Angelus was gonna do something real nasty to me, while Daniel watched. Well, boo-hoo! I was a whore, alright? It really wasn't that big of a deal, that he had to act like a giant pussy over it. Whatever it was Daniel was imagining, couldn't possibly compare to what Angelus actually had in mind. I swear, seeing him like that almost made me want to kill him myself.

I thought she had been gone for quite a while, but I wasn't really worried about it. She wasn't really acting like she was gonna make a break for it, though like I said, she was a professional. I couldn't have known her mind, if I tried. So I just took her at face value, and waited 'til she came back. I figured if she did sneak out a back window or something, then I would just kill Daniel, like I was gonna do anyway, and catch up with her later.

But she finally did come back, and then I saw what had taken her so long. She had changed into this bright red number. It wasn't quite as skimpy as the other one, but it definitely showed off her assets better, if you get my meaning. It looked practically new, like she hadn't worn it very often, or for very long at a time. She had taken her hair down, so it fell in soft curls around her shoulders and brushed it 'til shined. It was darker than I remembered last time I had seen her, not strawberry blond anymore, like her mother's but a deep red. She'd also touched up her make-up while she was gone. I knew what she was trying to do. And it was working.

 I went back behind the bar, and got the Poker chips, and a deck of cards we kept back there, and brought them to Angelus to inspect. Y'know so he could see if they were marked or whatever. I waited while he looked them over, then turned to head back behind the bar. My reasoning, or so I said, was so I could keep the drinks coming while they played. Of course the real reason, was so I could keep as much distance between me and Angelus as possible, without abandoning Daniel.

 But Angelus wouldn't hear of it. He insisted keeping me within arm's reach. Literally. I had to sit so close to him, I was practically on his lap. Practically, hell! Most the time I was on his lap. But it's not what you think. We didn't talk about the first thing that popped up. He just held me so close, that I couldn't move. Not that nothing ever popped up. I mean, my leg was right there, y'know, and old habits. But asshole though he may be, I don't think that was what he was going for. That was just, y'know, bonus. [snickers] I said " Bone us". 

I said I didn't want her getting a look my cards and signaling to Daniel somehow. Not that was really worried about him cheating. He wasn't smart enough for that. But I didn't want to give him any kind of an edge either. Plus, you know, watching him squirm like that while I had my hands all over his woman was well worth the price of admission. You know how I like a good squirm.

He gave me a sort of half smile, then, like we were sharing an in-joke, but my glare made it clear to him that I didn't find it the least bit funny, and that if he knew what was good for him, he'd keep his editorial comments to himself and just get on with the story. I knew all too well how much he enjoyed "squirm". Angel cleared his throat and continued.

So then Moira dealt out the chips, making sure we both had exactly the same amount, and I shuffled the deck. I passed the cards to Daniel to cut them, then had Moira blow on the deck. Y'know, just to… uh… twist the knife a little bit. You know what I mean? 

So you know, little by little, Angelus' pot got bigger, while Daniel's got smaller and smaller. Occasionally, Angelus would throw a hand, just to make the game last a bit longer, and give Daniel some false hope. Make him think he might have a shot after all. But still, even with Angelus' little cat-and-mouse routine, the whole thing was over in just a couple of hours, still pretty early in the night. The final hand went down, and even though I could see it coming, it was still a bit of a shock. Daniel had a Full House, and went all in. Not that that counted for much, but it was twos and threes! I mean, what an idiot! Right? And Angelus had a straight flush, ace high. The worst part, was that I couldn't even accuse Angelus of stacking the deck, because he had magnanimously let Daniel deal out every other hand, and that particular hand had been Daniel's doing.

Everything went into slow-motion then. I watched Angelus lay his cards on the table, this huge shit-eating grin plastered to his face, and I saw Daniel's face just crumble. All the color drained out of it, and his jaw just hit the floor. For a minute, he just sat there staring at the cards like he couldn't believe it. Like if he wished hard enough, if he did believe in fairies, the cards would magically change in his favor. I had a hard time wrapping my own head around it. Not because I ever thought for a minute that he was going to win, but because I didn't know exactly what was going to happen. Y'know apart from the fact that we were both gonna die.

Out of Time  

Daniel was inching his way towards the door, but froze when he got a look at the way I was holding his fiancée. I could've snapped her neck at anytime, and I think he realized that. I chastised him for trying to bolt, and I said, "Daniel! You wouldn't be tryin' to run out on us, would ya? We had a deal as I recall. You wouldn't be tryin to welsh on me? Or maybe you'd prefer I took my winnings here."  

I barely had time to register that pain, though, 'cause at the same time he was doing that, his other hand was scrabbling at the hem of my dress, exposing my left thigh. My shoulder popped at the same time I felt his nails digging into my bare flesh. He had long nails for a guy. And sharp. It felt like he was trying to turn my leg into a bowling ball. And succeeding.

He said, "Get your hands off her. Leave her out of this." Or some other George McFly sounding nonsense. I dug in a bit deeper, and said, "Or what, Daniel? What are you going to do? Besides wet yourself, that is?" He stumbled over his words a bit then, and said, "I'll get you your money. I swear it. I just need some time." I laughed at him, and began, "Time? I'm afraid time is yet another luxury--"  

I vamped out, then, and threw Moira across the room. I watched her land head first on the piano, then slump to the floor. Daniel must've assumed she was dead, or else his own self-preservation instinct finally kicked in, because when I turned back around, the door was standing open and he was gone.  

He begged for his life, and pretty much offered me the key to his kingdom in exchange. I told him, "A man playing at cards should have a natural intelligence or a great deal of money and you're sadly lacking in both. So I'll take my winnings my own way." Then I hoisted him by his throat, and got ready to bite, and the coward starts like reading himself the Last Rites. Y'know, all, "The Lord is my Shepherd", blah, blah, blah. I didn't wanna hear that. It was ruining my appetite. So I interrupted him and said, "Daniel! Be of good cheer. It's Christmas." Then I killed him before he could start up again, and went back to the Pub to take care of Moira.