Blindz hopped carefully out of the shadows and glanced around the deserted alley. The rich, heady smell of garbage floating thickly on the warm night air beckoned, and he bounced quickly to the rim of the open skip. The loud crash as a door slammed open had him scuttling into the relative safety of an empty corn can. The large bull-faced bouncer who thought it was fun to chase him with a broom appeared in the open doorway, and Blindz shrank further into the empty can. He heard a loud scuffle and peered cautiously around the jagged edge of the can in time to see a black and white shape hurled into the alley to land hard in a puddle of last night's rainwater and filth.

“Your kind’s not welcome here, Spike. I see you in here again and you’re hist’ry,” Bull-face announced, slamming the door behind him as he re-entered the club.

He watched the vampire pull itself up from the ground and swear inventively as he wiped the muck from his coat.

Not much larger than the average rat, the scavenging Galcuk demons were of little interest to most vampires, who generally preferred human blood over anything else; however, exceptions had been known to be made, and Blindz hadn’t survived over 230 years by being careless. He held himself motionless, not daring to breathe as the vampire stumbled over to the skip and leant back against it, muttering colourfully about lost winnings and broken bottles as he pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it.

The vampire slid down the side of the skip until he was seated once more in the damp muck of the alley floor, limp hands and bright white head hung listlessly between his outspread knees as he continued to talk quietly to himself. The dull glow of the cigarette shining forgotten between the vampires fingers lent a red sheen to the pale skin and hair, and cast the hollows of the vampires eyes and cheekbones into deep shadow, making the creature appear even more the walking cadaver than was usual for his kind.

“Can’t do it, love. Tried. Barely cold an’ I’ve failed you already—again.” The vampire tossed the cigarette and swiped roughly at his face.

The sharp tang of salt floated on the breeze and, curiosity getting the better of him, the little Galcuk abandoned his refuge. Inching carefully forward, he strained his hearing to catch the vampire’s words.

“Tried to do right by you...by her. Tried to keep my promise, even if it is too late. Didn’t know she was sneakin’ out. Anythin’ coulda happened an’ where was I? Lost in a sodding bottle, that’s where.” He drew a flask out of his pocket, lifting it to his lips and upending it, swallowing greedily before dropping it empty to the street, the irony of his actions obviously lost on the drunken vampire as he continued his self-flagellation. “Shoulda been there, watchin’ over her.” He sniffed and swiped once more. “Was too busy wallowing...’s all ‘m good for. Can’t be a vampire. Can’t be a man. Can’t be anything without you.”

Blindz blinked in amazement when the vampire lowered its head, abandoning all pretence as it gave in and sobbed openly, its slim form shaking with the intensity of its pain.

“If I’d just been fast enough,” the vampire muttered to itself. “Smart enough. Too bloody cocky ‘s what I was—what I always am. Wish I could do it again. Do it right. Then you wouldn’t be...” Another chocked sob interrupted the vampire’s tirade. “God, I wish I could do it all again.” Blindz made out between the sobs.