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</div><br/>The world was a different place after midnight.<br/><br/>It was the first thing that Leah had learned when she'd started working in the secretive, underground world of the supernatural. The steadfast rule was that you never trusted anyone by their appearance, and it carried over from her after hours nightlife into her day to day functioning. The things she'd seen over the years really made it impossible to carry on a normal social life, and while surviving in shady bars such as this one was the least preferred method of socialization by most people, for Leah, it seemed to suit her needs just fine.<br/><br/>The Windy City had been her home for most of her life, but the streets of Chicago had eaten at her until she'd sought an escape. Her solace came in the form of a smaller southern city, and it was here that she found the true meaning of 'Southern Hospitality'.<br/><br/>Insomnia had been the beast that she'd never been able to defeat, and while her experience had been full of vampires, werewolves, witches, and the like, there was something about this monster that continued to evade her until she was red eyed and angry three nights in a row. Not even the strongest pharmaceuticals touched her sleeplessness, and for that reason alone, she became quite good friends with some of the patrons in the darkened dive bar.<br/><br/>At first, it had been hard not to target 'them', but when you're retired, you're not exactly supposed to work so she'd made a good effort. She'd hung up her hunting gear almost a year ago, but it was still a day to day struggle to transition from one of the most skilled huntresses in the Midwest to that of a day to day citizen. No matter how hard she tried, the blood that had been passed down through her family for generations ran through her veins, and pinpointing the supes around her was practically second nature and thoughtless. It was the urge to kill that she had to suppress. It was the biggest change she'd had to go through.<br/><br/>The blood of her best friend was on her hands, and the nightmares of his death would forever plague her. There was no traveling back in time to save him, and the thought of Jonathan Steele being alive was something that would only become a reality in her dreams. But they'd promised one another that if either sustained a bite from an infectious source, the other would end the possibility of them remaining alive. To be a supe was one thing, but to be a supe with Hunter knowledge was another entirely. It had been their code - the code that their families had followed since the start of the extermination movement - but it was a code that broke Leah and forced her into the world of the mundane, regardless of how much she missed her old life.<br/><br/><b>"What'll it be, Miss?"</b>The grayed bartender inquired for the fifth time. She'd shrugged the last few times with disinterest, and he'd given her a few shots of bourbon to tide her over. She'd had better in Louisville, where the local bourbon was a bit more smoky and the burn a bit more slow, but bourbon was bourbon, and it still carried that thick flavor that she loved regardless of the cost. Leah replied with yet another shrug, to which the man sighed and slid her a double. She could drink more than half the bottle if she tried hard enough.<br/><br/>The door to the bar opened and closed many times throughout the night, but Leah didn't pay attention most of the time. Tonight was no exception to that rule, except for when a cool breeze tousled her hair and a man entered at quarter to two. He looked around before his eyes landed on her, and he angled his body so that he moved through the slightly crowded front toward the empty bar stool next to her. Leah said nothing as he took a seat next to her. She sipped her double of bourbon until that grew tiresome, then downed it like it was the last drink she'd ever have.<br/><br/>The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she placed the empty glass on the counter top with a hard drop. The sound echoed only slightly around the music playing in the bar, but it was there nonetheless. Leah kept her eyes averted from her neighbor, withdrawing her wallet and placing a wad of cash on the counter to pay for her drinks. Something made her uneasy, but removing herself from whatever situation this was might be for the best. With that in mind, she slid off the stool, almost oblivious to the soft sound of a name coming from the man's lips. Her name. Her family's name.<i>Donatelli.<br/>
</i><br/>Then his fingers grasped her wrist and tugged her back into her seat.