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Paul awoke to a pounding on his door that startled him awake. He looked around confused for a moment before hearing the pounding again, and his father's voice from the other side of the door. He uttered a swear and looked around the room. Pox was nowhere to be found, “Thank the gods for small favors," he muttered as he got out of the bed and pulled on a dressing gown to make himself decent, before opening the door.

His father pushed into the room immediately, and before Paul could react, the back of a heavy hand struck him across the face, sending him reeling back. “You fucking little shit, how dare you embarrass me like that?" Jonathan growled as he grabbed the front of Paul's robe.

Paul's head was ringing from the blow to his face and blood was starting to ooze from a cut in his temple, “What? What the hell did I do?" he asked, grabbing his father's wrists, if not to pull them from his robe to keep the man from striking him again.

His father shoved him back, “The young lady Vanessa told everyone how rude you were, going on and on about drinking blood or some nonsense, and then that you abruptly left without saying a word. I was mortified!" The older man began pacing about the room, going to the open balcony, and looking out over the back garden.

Paul went over to the dresser and pulled a kerchief from one of the drawers, holding the cloth to his bleeding temple, “I left because I realized I have hardly anything in common with the young woman. As for the drinking blood, she started it, boasting about how their gardener uses blood magic to-"

Jonathan spun around on his heel, “Who bloody well cares? Yes, she's a foolish little girl, but you shouldn't be interested in her for what's in her head!" he growled at Paul, “She's young and pretty, and you having a girl like her on your arm when you start campaigning would do you well for your political career."

Paul rolled his eyes and dabbed at his temple, “And her father being one of the partners at the rail yard has nothing to do with it? Come on Father, I'm not stupid." He shook his head, “Besides, we both know it doesn't matter how much or little campaigning I do, the council is going to have the final say on who becomes the next Arbiter, not the people. That's why everyone treats me like I already have the job."

Jonathan opened his mouth for a moment and then closed it again, thinking on his words. “Well, yes of course getting an in with her family would be advantageous to us, we could get better rates on imported materials, and with the coal shortages…" he trailed off and shook his head. “There are a number of advantages, but not if you keep throwing them away like that!"

Paul grumbled, “I'm just not ready to settle down yet. Besides, I have a few years before you are going to retire anyway, so I don't see what the hurry is."

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “You need to hurry up and get ready, preparedness is the most important thing for a politician." he muttered. “Tomorrow morning I want you to go back to the Carter house and apologize to the young girl, and her father. If you can do that without fucking it up, perhaps we can salvage some of our reputation," he hissed.

Paul sighed heavily, “Yes, father," he said, “First thing in the morning."

Jonathan nodded and then turned to leave, “And have the servants change your sheets again before you leave. This room still reeks of sickness."

Paul closed the door and locked it once again, before sighing heavily. He heard a grunting and then a thud and looked back to see Pox laying on the balcony, clutching her chest and wincing heavily. Paul went over to her, “So that's where you hid…why didn't you just duck under the bed or something?"

Pox shrugged, “Balcony seemed easier, could slip away in the dark," she said sitting up.

Paul helped her to her feet and then went over to one of the wall lamps, adjusting the knob to turn up the gas, bringing it from a dull orange glow to a brighter white. “I suppose you were eavesdropping on us."

Pox moved up behind him and looked at his head before licking at his temple and rubbing her wrist on the cut, before seeming to be satisfied it wasn't very big. “Yes. I don't like that human," she said, going back over to Paul's bed and stretching back out on it, wincing still from her broken ribs.

Paul moved over to sit on the edge of the bed next to her, “I can't say I don't feel the same way." He sighed and closed his eyes. “When dealing with him, he makes it abundantly clear that I'm just a pawn in his game."

Pox tilted her head, “What game?"

Paul sighed and then shifted over, laying down on the bed next to the rat, looking up at the ceiling and closing his eyes. “It's not an actual game…he is an influential man. He often has a lot of sway when it comes to decisions the city council votes on. Power, influence, appearance. Those things all matter to him more than anything."

Pox turned onto her side, grunting softly as she adjusted her position and she rested a hand on his chest, rubbing gently. “Stupid things to matter. All Pox need is full belly and cozy bed and maybe cute human to cuddle with. All else just extra."

Paul glanced over at her, “Well sorry I don't have any extra food on hand," he said sticking his tongue out.

Pox giggled and then leaned in before he could react and licked his tongue with her own, grabbing him to keep him from recoiling too hard. “You have cozy bed though. Two out of three not bad." She turned him around and pulled his back against her chest, her tail looping around his waist once again as she nuzzled into his long hair.

Paul shuddered slightly, but soon forced himself to relax. The rat had grown more and more affectionate towards him and while he was first kind of put off by how physical she was when expressing it, he was starting to get used to it. He sighed softly, “I can't believe my father is making me apologize to that stupid girl," he said grumbling, before closing his eyes again and sighing, “I'm going to get some more sleep…"

Pox yawned and nodded, tucking her muzzle under his neck. “Pox glad, human talk too much, worry bout stupid things too much."

Paul chuckled a bit at that and then sighed again, closing his eyes, and letting sleep take him once more.

† † †

The next morning Paul woke to find Pox already gone. He sighed a bit and got out of bed, cleaning himself up and going down the stairs toward the kitchen. He saw that his father had already gone. He sighed, “I wonder if James had to deal with this…" he muttered, before making his way out into the morning air. The sun was rising, a large blood red globe bathing the world in a crimson cast.

Paul sighed and ran his hand through his slightly damp hair as he walked down to the street and then along it, “Ugh…I hate these stupid social games…how do I apologize? I don't know anything about the girl…" he muttered, continuing to walk along. He paused when he neared the alley where he was attacked by the vampire. The body was gone, and the area cordoned off by the police. Paul could see a black trail where he had dragged the body and he shuddered a bit, before hurrying along his path.

He eventually came to the house owned by the Carters, and with a sigh he went up to the door and used the knocker to rap on the door. A few moments later the door was opened, and a thin wiry old man poked his head out, “Yes, may I help you?"

Paul gave a nod, “Yes I'm here to see Mister Carter, and the young Miss Vanessa, are they available?"

The man nodded, “They are, and you are…sir?" he asked.

“I'm Paul Hawthorne. I was here last night," he said, swallowing.

The man gave another nod, “Very good sir," he said and then closed the door.

Paul waited a few moments and swallowed, before reaching out and pushing on the door, feeling it give way and he stepped inside. It was a common practice, no one invited anyone into their homes, as vampires couldn't cross the threshold. If he wasn't allowed in, he would be told to leave. The older man then gave a nod and turned, “This way, sir." He said, leading Paul to a well furnished sitting room, “Have a seat and I will fetch the Master and young Mistress," he said before turning and leaving.

Paul settled into one of the overstuffed chairs, and swallowed some, waiting for the other two arrived, looking around the room. There was a large beast head on one wall above a fireplace and several oil paintings.

He was pulled out of his examinations by a voice speaking up, “Good morning, Mister Hawthorne." There was a man around Paul's father's age standing in the doorway. Robert Carter was a large man, heavy set, with a balding head and a large salt and pepper beard. He had a frown on his round face, “What can I do for you today?" he asked.

Paul swallowed hard, and got to his feet, walking up to the man and he politely offered his hand to the man, “Good morning. Master Carter, I have come to apologize, my behavior last night was very unbecoming, and I am ashamed to have insulted you and the young Miss Vanessa."

Robert nodded, running his thick fingers through his beard, “Good of you to have seen the error of your ways." he said, turning as the young woman entered the room, and gave a polite nod in Paul's direction.

Paul swallowed and nodded his head, offering a deep bow before her, “Miss Vanessa, I wish to offer my sincerest apology, my behavior last night was unacceptable." He righted himself and swallowed, “If you will, I wish to make it up to you by taking you out for tea."

The young woman looked to her father and then back to Paul, frowning with her pouty lips, “I suppose that tea would be an acceptable apology, Daddy is that alright with you?" she asked.

Robert glared at Paul and then softened as he looked at his daughter, “Of course sweetie, you two have a good time."

Paul bowed again, “Thank you sir." and he then offered his arm to the young woman, “Miss Vanessa, if you will?" he asked. She took his arm and he led her out of the house, taking her to a small tea shop on the corner. They took to a table, and he pulled her chair out, and she sat down in it, before taking his own seat. Paul sat quietly for an awkward moment, “Um…please have anything you like…they have some lovely sweets here," he said.

Vanessa smiled and nodded, “Why thank you, that's very polite," she said, and a waitress brought them some tea and left a glass eye dropper full of liquid coal sugar. Paul poured the tea into Vanessa's cup, and then his own, before offering her some of the sugar. “Three drops please," she said and then took her cup.

Paul sat back and nodded, “So…um…" he shrugged, “I never asked, do you do any gardening yourself?" he asked, figuring that was a good starting point for a conversation.

She sipped her tea and then frowned shaking her head, “Oh by the gods no! I would never soil my hands with such menial work!" she said.

Paul nodded slowly, “Um…what about…baking or cooking? Do you do any of that?" he asked.

She giggled once more shaking her head, “Of course not, that's what my servants are for!" she said.

Paul gave a slight sigh, “Well…um…what do you like to do? What sort of hobbies do you have?"

Vanessa smiled, “Oh, well I do like doing needle point crocheting, I'm told I'm very good at it," she said and giggled.

Paul nodded some, “Oh, my mother used to Crochet," he said, “We have a lot of doilies that she made to decorate our house with."

Vanessa giggled at that, “Doilies? How quaint!" she said, “I make scarves and hats and things for my girlfriends. Daddy makes sure that I have plenty of pretty colors to use. The same with my needle point work."

Paul nodded slowly, continuing to listen absentmindedly as she talked, nodding now and again as his mind drifted, and he found himself wondering what Pox was up to that morning.

† † †

Pox pounded loudly on the back door of the pesthouse, kicking with her foot as she cradled a severely weakened and injured Ticktock in her arms. The smaller rat's hands were bound in dirty, bloody, rags and she was wrapped in a moth eaten blanket. Eventually one of the nuns opened the door and peeked her head out before letting out a shrill shriek at the sight of the large rat standing there.

The commotion caught the attention of others, many were too frightened of Pox to stop her from forcing her way inside, shoving past them. She looked around, “Please, need help! Where is short nun, or beak doctor?" she asked, looking at the group of frightened women, each one wearing thick white robes and coverings over their entire bodies, and an identical rat-faced mask. Dressed as they were, Pox couldn't tell them apart even by scent. One stepped forward slowly, “I know you. You are the rat that brought us Silverthorn a few weeks ago," she said, “I'm sister Jasmine."

Pox nodded emphatically, “Yes! Yes! Short fat nun say Pox could come if need help and Pox does," she said, hefting and nodding toward the bundled up Ticktock. “This Ticktock, Pox's sister. She need help bad, lost lots of blood, hands torn up."

Sister Jasmine looked at Pox and then the bundle, and lifted one of Ticktock's hands, un-wrapping it for a moment, before turning to Pox, “Those are nasty lacerations, what happened to her?"

Pox growled angrily, “Elder punished her, made her feed familiar dog with her blood, it did this to Ticktock!"

Jasmine nodded and without missing a beat she said, “Come with me and hurry. We have a surgical theatre up stairs," she said, clapping her hands and pointing to two of the scared nuns, “You two, go ahead of us and close every door on our path, I don't want any patients knowing we have rats in the building," and then to a third, “And you, tell Sister Margaret and her pupils to get ready for surgery," she said and when they didn't move fast enough she clapped her hands, barking out, “Hurry!"

The two nuns did as they were told, breaking out into a run to start slamming doors while Pox was lead in their wake, up a flight of stairs, and then down a long hallway before coming to a room with a single bed in the middle and a myriad of tools and trays around the room. The nun gestured to the table, “Lay her out there," she she said, and Pox did so. Several other of the nuns came in and they began tending to Ticktock, while sister Jasmine, who had led Pox to the room turned to her, “I need you to remain calm, please step over here and sit down. How well related are you two?"

Pox shrugged, settling into the chair as directed, “She Pox's sister, we have same mother, she three years younger than Pox."

The nun nodded, “I'm going to need to extract some blood from you to test with your sister's, we may need you to give some blood to heal your sister, will you agree to the procedure?"

Pox nodded, “Yes, Pox will give all her blood if it will help Ticktock."

Jasmine nodded, “It won't come to that, but that's good you are willing," she said going and fetching a small syringe, “Let me see your wrist so that I can find a vein," she said, taking Pox's arm and felt over it, looking for a spot to insert the needle.

While this was happening, two smaller nuns came in. They were only about waist high to the others and were dressed differently as well, with red robes instead of white, but they had the same porcelain masks. Step ladders were put next to Ticktock's bed for them to stand on. Another nun with red robes followed and stood at the head of the bed.

The lights in the room were dimmed and several bright lime lamps above were lit, shining a brilliant white light down on Ticktock's bed and the six nuns that were now crowded around it. A rag was placed over Ticktock's face and nose, and an apparatus was moved over that dripped a liquid onto the rag. Pox watched all this with curiosity, “Who they? What that cloth?" she asked Jasmine.

“The tall one in red is Sister Margaret," Jasmine said, “and the two smaller ones are her pupils Hannah and Claire. The young ones will be performing the surgery to fix your sister's hands, while Margaret directs them. The rag is being dosed with ether. The vapors will help your sister sleep while they work on her." She then produced a small blade, “I'll need to shave a spot your arm so I can get through your fur."

Pox nodded and continued to watch while Jasmine used the blade to shave the fur off of a spot on her arm and wiping it with a wet cloth before inserting the needle and drawing out a sample of blood, before going over and doing similar with Ticktock. Both needles were emptied into a small vial that the nun shook around for a few moments.

Margaret looked to the two smaller ones, “Alright you two, I hope you have been studying your hand anatomy. Let's begin," she said and then began directing the two smaller ones in their work as they began to repair the damage that Gnarltooth's hound had done.

Jasmine took Pox's arm, “Come on, you don't need to see this," she said but the rat wouldn't budge. “No, Pox want see," Pox said and continued to watch. The nurse nodded, “Alright…so you said it was a dog that did this to her?"

Pox nodded her head, “Yes, it was shaman's familiar. It evil devil dog," she said, “It eat blood, but is rough and likes to bite hands, several rats punished by elders lost theirs."

Jasmine tilted her head, “Why was your sister punished like this?"

Pox sighed, “She got me nasty juice herbs that Pox brought. Elder shaman Gnarltooth tricked her, was hoping I get killed by humans. Elder rats don't care about food or keeping rat pups safe, so clan likes Pox better. When Pox came back, elders decided Ticktock would pay in blood at full moon, and Pox got ten lashes from a barbed whip."

Jasmine nodded, “How gruesome," she said swallowing, “Well Margaret and the others are going to do their best to save Ticktock's hands. I need to warn you, she may lose a finger or two, but we'll take the best care of her we can."

Pox closed her eyes and swallowed, “Please, Ticktock means everything to Pox," she said.

The nurse looked at the vial in her hand, holding it up to a lamp. “It looks like your blood is compatible with your sister's," she said and looked back to Pox, “I'm going to extract some from you that we will give her," she said getting a thicker needle that was connected to a tube and a bottle. She inserted the thicker needle into Pox's arm, “Just relax and flex your hand a bit."

Pox settled down and did as she was told, watching as the blood flowed out of her arm and filled the bottle. It looked like it could hold a quart of the red fluid. She glanced back at her sister as the two smaller surgeons worked, cutting and stitching skin under the direction of the taller woman. “Those small humans?"

Jasmine looked up from where she was drawing the blood over at the two, “Yes. Hannah is 12, Claire is 11, both have been training as surgeons since they were six years old," she said, and looked to Pox, “We train children because their hands are more delicate, but don't worry, both are very skilled at what they do." She then went back to tending to the bottle before removing the needle and bandaging up Pox's arm. “There, that should be enough blood for us to transfuse into your sister. Do you need anything? I can get you some gin to drink If you like."

Pox shook her head, “No no, Pox fine. Thank you," she said and just continued watching as the nuns worked on Ticktock. They fixed and patched up her hands, sewing muscle and tendon and skin back together. Fortunately, they didn't have to remove any of her fingers from what she could see, and they wrapped Ticktock's hands in splints and bandages to immobilize them.

They then shaved a patch on Ticktock's arm, and then connected a fresh needle and the bottle of blood to her and waited for it to drain completely. They then put Ticktock onto a stretcher and lifted her up and carried her to a private recovery room. Jasmine walked with Pox as they went to join her, “I'm guessing you will want to stay here with her. That's fine, but you don't have to. It's going to be a few days maybe weeks, but we'll look after her the whole time."

Pox nodded, “Pox want to stay for a little while. Make sure Ticktock wake up," she said, going over and sitting in a chair next to Ticktock's bed.

Jasmine nodded, “Of course, we'll check on you in a few hours, and when food is ready, I'll bring some up for the both of you," she then turned to leave and closed the door behind her, leaving the two alone.

Pox moved her seat close to Ticktock's bed and she reached out to pet the smaller rat's head gently, “I'm so sorry, Ticktock. I didn't know your punishment would be so bad…" she sighed and settled into the seat, watching Ticktock's slow breathing.

† † †

Paul sighed as he arrived back at his home, rubbing his head. He had spent several hours listening to Vanessa Carter drone on, but he finally got through breakfast and dropped her off back at her home. He had then wandered around for a while, before finally returning home. He pushed open the door and made his way through the main hall of the manor house.

He then went to the library, looking over the walls of collected books. He was about to grab one when he heard his father clearing his throat behind him, and Paul turned, seeing the man in another furious state. Jonathan narrowed his eyes, “My office. Now!" he said.

Paul swallowed and followed the man to his office. It was a room he hardly ever entered and where his father spent most of his days when not at the council hall.

Jonathan settled into the seat behind the desk and pointed to a chair on the other side. “Sit. You have a lot of explaining to do," he said with a growl.

Paul swallowed some and then settled into the seat, spotting one of the maids, a young woman named Rebekah, as she moved into the room and stood near his father. “What is the meaning of this?" he asked, gripping the arms of his chair nervously.

Jonathan looked to the maid, “Tell him what you told me."

She swallowed hard, “Th-this m-morning I was out in the b-back of the house getting ready to do the wash. I-I h-heard a sound…behind me…" she closed her eyes and turned her head down, “I saw a…a huge rat…leaving from Master Paul's balcony…"

Paul listened to what she said, and his face blanched, and he looked back from the maid to his father, his fingernails digging into the wood of the chair he was sitting in.

Jonathan, glared at Paul, “This isn't the first time I have heard this. One of the cooks saw you skulking in with someone. There have been comments about the smell of your sheets and clothing, and how often you send them down to be laundered, about how many baths you take." He rested his elbows on the desk and leaned forward, interlacing his fingers, “Explain yourself," he growled out.

Paul shrank back in his seat, his mind racing. His father knew about Pox, “I… she…" he swallowed, “She forced herself on me," he said, his mind going back to that first night in the alley. “I was drinking, and she took advantage when I ducked into an alley to relieve myself. Forced me to…" he trailed off. “She's been doing it since."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes, grinding his teeth, “So you mean to tell me, you have been fornicating…with a filthy beast?" he snarled.

Paul shook his head, “It's not my fault! She's so much bigger and stronger than I am!" he swallowed. “I try to fight her off, but she overpowers me."

Jonathan growled again, shaking his head, “Pathetic," he said, before getting up and starting to pace behind his desk, “How often does this beast show up?" he asked.

Paul swallowed, “I…don't know…once or twice a week?" he said, “It's not anything I can predict." He sat there, his mind reeling and feeling like he was caught between a boulder and a mountain. He had tried to keep Pox a secret, but it seemed he wasn't as careful as he thought. “She will attack me in alleys or empty streets…or she'll come when I'm sleeping."

Jonathan sighed, “Ugh…miserable… Fine! I will go to the rat catcher's guild, and have them send a man to watch for this beast and slay it, since you are so worthless you can't even protect yourself."

Paul shook his head, “No, you don't have to do that!" he said swallowing, “I…I can handle it."

Jonathan stared him down, “This has been going on for over a month! I'm almost tempted to believe you like degrading yourself with that animal."

“No, I swear! I had been weak with illness, and I hadn't made up a plan to get rid of her yet." Paul said, “The next time I see her I'll take care of it and make sure she never comes back. Give me this chance," he said. He wasn't entirely lying, though he did feel a twinge of guilt for casting Pox under the rickshaw.

Jonathan regarded him for a long moment, and it was clear to Paul he had lost a lot of respect in his father's eyes. “You better, I will not have you drag this family's good name through the muck. Get rid of that beast, or I swear by the Holy Sun, that I will get rid of you instead."

Paul nodded and swallowed, “Yes father."

Jonathan turned away, “Get out of my sight."