The subway train came to a screeching halt at the stop, jolting Béatrix back to the present. Now alert, she stood up and got off at the stop, only having to walk a few blocks to get to her apartment. 

Upon opening the door, Trixy was greeted by some of her favorite smells. The warm vanilla-like scent of her perfume lingered in the air, the crisp scent of spiced cinnamon potpourri complimented it well. The interior of the apartment was rather luxurious, and much like Béatrix herself, it was a mix of Victorian era style with a healthy dose of modern flair.  The living room had paintings on the walls; one was a portrait of her very own late soul mate, Francis, as well as plants, cherry wood end tables, a flat screen tv, and a black leather couch –easy cleanup for when her meals got… messy…

Before collapsing into her bed, Trixy heated up a mug of bagged blood in the kitchen. She really didn’t prefer the stuff, but it cut the craving when she wasn’t able to fulfill her need in person. Plus, since vampires came out of the coffin, bagged blood was pretty easy to come by at human blood banks, as long as you could pay the hefty price.

Trixy walked to her bedroom with the warm mug in hand. She sat and began removing her makeup at her antique vanity, adorned with an ornately hand-carved mirror. The vanity was from France, and one of the only things in her apartment that was as old as her. In no time, Trixy was prepped for bed and found herself sleeping as deeply as only the dead can manage to do.

[center]~~~ The next morning ~~~[/center]

Béatrix went through her morning routine as she usually did, hardly taking a single moment to remember any details of the day before, or of her new found soul mate. They would do what was best for them, live fruitful lives apart from one another. If you don’t know love, you don’t have to know the pain of loss, a pain they had both come to know all too well in the past.

Trixy headed to the office to have her usual morning meeting with Carl. He always gave her updates on crime in the area, more so info about the criminals and their potential whereabouts. Although Béatrix was one of their best investigators, the NYPD used her as an attack dog first and foremost – which made perfect sense, given her inhuman constitution. Carl informed her that there were two more murders overnight, both thought to be victims of the rogue vampire she had failed to apprehend the day before.

Anger flashed in her crystalline blue eyes, “I’ll fix this.” She said in a defensive hiss “He’ll be staked by dinnertime. I got his scent yesterday, that’s all I’ll need.” Carl was about to say that this wasn’t her fault, and he wasn’t in any way blaming her, but Trixy had already turned on her heels and stormed away to gear up for her mission.