KNOCK. KNOCK.
I hesitate for a moment, my fist suspended mid-air, then knock firmly on Miss Lazar's door. It's been about a month since the blood baptism and, damn it, that woman was right! Something in me has changed—and not for the better. It's like being consumed by an insatiable torment, fiercer than the usual blood cravings that have haunted me for years. I don't need just blood. I need her blood.
Why? I don't know. I couldn't explain it even to myself. And yet, here I am, standing in front of her door, driven by a mysterious force I can't ignore.
More than a minute passes. No answer. Obviously. It's two in the morning and i just finished my patrol shift—fortunately, Rebecca is too young, and her parents too strict, to let her join us on night rounds. At this hour, Miss Lazar is probably fast asleep, but the burning need inside me won't let me wait until morning.