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interrogated him right there on his own front porch, and he covered it all perfectly.
                "Apparently, he told them a couple of his lights exploded in the house.  Claimed it could have been a power surge.  He even showed them the remains of several lamps to back it up.  The report states that they looked around and didn't see anything else suspicious aside from multiple exploded light fixtures and the unusual odor, which they attributed to the electricity and shattered bulbs."
                "But what about the smashed back door?  There's no way he could have claimed that was from a power surge."
                "Good point.  I'll check," Ren says and goes back to the police report he has up on the screen.  After reading several lines, he speaks up.  "Ah, here we go.  The police noted that several windows and doors were open to air the place out.  Morrin claims that was how he knew the police were out front.  He was opening the front door to get some air flow when he stumbled into them.  It doesn’t look like they ever went around the back of his house.  And if the door was open, then they probably didn’t notice anything wrong.
                "There's no record of you being there or any explosion from the grenade," he continues with a sigh.  "He had a perfect cover story for what happened.  He executed the whole thing with precision, and it was flawless."
                "Fine.  He's really smart," I concede.  "And after talking to him and witnessing him shrug off my attacks, he has definitely climbed a few rungs on my Nasty-Evil-Dude ladder.  But you heard what he said when I was in there.  He knows about the girls, and they aren't dead.  He's responsible, Renny.  I don't know for exactly what, yet, but he is definitely deep into this." 
    Remembering Chadwick's responses to my questions in his kitchen gets my blood worked up, and I don't have enough energy in me right now to keep control if it starts to overwhelm me.  I need to feed again.  That quick snack earlier healed some damage and kept me sane, but it isn't going to hold me over for long.
                "I want him, Renny," I say and embrace the stirring of the darkness in my gut.  "I mean he may be smarter than us, and whole lot more evil than we could ever be," and for a second I get flashbacks of another man who I had once thought of as completely evil but eventually was forced to reassess.  "But I'm faster, stronger, meaner and a big ol’ slice of something he's never experienced before.  He may be prepared for a lot of things, but he can’t be prepared for me.  He doesn’t know me…yet.”  I let those words sink in before continuing.  “He doesn't get to win this fight, Ren.  I do."
                Inhaling the calming scent of my friend (Whose blood is too poisonous for my brain to even consider sampling, let alone drinking from.  Being around a person that I can't possible feed on has helped me find a happy place in life.  I almost feel normal being around him.), I smile and pat the hardened muscles of my abdomen.  "Now let's find me a place for dinner."

CHAPTER EIGHT
                As Ren brings up information on the computers about our most recent suspected Den of Druggery (Bringing suspected child abusers to justice has only been a recent endeavor on our part.  I'm still focusing on making the city a safer place one rotted out building at a time.), I head over to the wall to grab one of the prepared backpacks off a hook (I've learned since my first ventures out into the world.  Now I come prepared.).  Looking over my shoulder, I shout to him, "These are all stocked and ready to go, right?  No surprises?"
                Ren looks up and glances at me.  "Yeah, they're good to go.  You don't have to keep checking on me.  It was one mistake.  Learn to forget, forgive and move on."
                A month ago, he