The man that slept beside her was looking at her from over the counter of what she knew to be a diner. All around them, others sat in the buzzing neon lights, Johnny Cash playing on the jukebox. His hair was slicked back, and though it was dark outside, he wore sunglasses.

Nancy leaned over the counter, her note-pad in her hand as she looked at him. "And what can I get for you this evening, Cooper?" She smiled at him, her skirt swishing around her knees. The cut of her dress was flattering, low in front, tight around the waist. "Do you want the regular? With a side of that-" she paused and gave him a roguish wink with a well-defined cat-eye. "special sauce of mine."

Blood. She meant blood.