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tragedy took place on a business trip to London more than ten years earlier.
    That certainly explained all the anger and rage she hurled at him the last few times they met. “Hmm. It seems she’s got vengeance on her mind. But why me?”
    “Andreas, don’t be so naïve. You’re the leader of the New York City vampire coven. This has everything to do with you.” Natasha cocked her hip to the side and shook her head in disbelief.
    She smiled and let out a slightly wicked laugh. “And it gets worse.
    Much worse.” The sadistic woman got off on feeding him the ugly truth.
    “Come on, you’ve got to be kidding me. How could it possibly get worse? There’s a beautiful vigilante on a mission to kill me. Isn’t that enough?” Andreas shrugged his shoulders, and feigned skepticism.
    “Beautiful, huh? Your beautiful Miss Sambucco works for BPA. She’s a huntress, Andreas.” Natasha crossed her arms and scowled at him.
    Fuck! No wonder she’d kicked his ass all over town.
    Andreas’s jaw dropped to the floor in shock. An intelligent woman, Natasha would quickly put two and two together and figure out why.
    “I knew it! Andreas, when are you going to learn to keep it in your pants? Un-fucking-believable!” Natasha threw her hands up in the air in frustration and stomped out of the room.

    ****
Eva pulled open the heavy wooden door and moved in silence toward the fountain of holy water set inside the entrance to the church. She dipped her index finger into the frigid water and made the sign of the cross on her forehead. Eva always admired the exquisite architectural masterpiece that was St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Originally built in 1879, this jewel of the Catholic Church was designed in the classic neo-gothic style. Its pointed monoliths of black and white marble and elaborate golden accents set it apart from the surrounding community. A refuge for prayer and personal reflection, St. Patrick’s was her private haven. Her home away from home.
    Eva made a b-line toward the confessional box, opened the door and sat down. She exuded the confident tranquility of a well-acquainted parishioner. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been six years since my last confession.” Eva whispered the traditional phase and tried not to disturb the other people worshiping in the pews directly outside the confessional.
    The pastor, Father Luigi Mancini, watched her. He almost certainly took note of her fatigued posture and the dark circles underneath her eyes. “Good evening, Miss Sambucco. I am glad you have finally decided to relieve yourself of that heavy burden.” Sin had a way of wrapping its tentacles around a person’s soul, wearing on the body and mind. Eva must have looked like death warmed over. She took a deep breath and began to relate the sad story of her existence to the priest.
    “Father, I am a huntress. I seek out and kill the undead lurking among us. There is no other choice than to rid our world of their evil.” Eva peered down at her feet, afraid to look the priest in the eye. It pained her greatly to admit her transgressions. But the toll on her conscience, of keeping her secrets locked deep inside, wrecked havoc on her ability to distinguish the difference between right and wrong.
    Eva had gotten to know Father Mancini fairly well over the last few years. The slightly-rotund, elderly man with soft gray eyes and a bald head had a way of making her feel safe. His gentle nature and broken Italian accent reminded her of her parents. The sense of peace and tranquility he instilled in her was the only reason she was able make such a confession.
    “But the Bible says, Thou shall not kill ,” he replied in earnest.
    “How do you reconcile this with your actions?”
    “Vampires are murderers. They don’t deserve to live. Besides, they are soulless creatures, so killing them isn’t technically a sin, is it?” Eva needed absolution, not only for the sins she’d already committed, but for what was