Bronwyn slipped among the humans reveling around and in the bars on Bourbon Street. Surrounded by humans as she was, she fought constantly not to lose control completely and go on a bloody feeding spree. She was getting dangerously close to the edge. If she didn't find suitable prey soon, she would just pick off a random drunk and deal with the guilt and conscience issues later.<br/>Her haggard appearance was drawing a few looks. The brief rain had rinsed most of the salt away, but her jeans and shirt were ragged and stiff, and her boots were literally about to fall off her feet. Once she had fed, she would have to find a bank and withdraw money. She found the constant access to emergency funds extremely convenient, and had money stashed in nearly every country all over the world. Her wallet was ruined, but her plastic cards were durable.<br/>Bronwyn peered down a narrow alley and caught a glimpse of darker shadows slithering across the brick walls. She crept closer, silently rounding a corner, unnoticed by the two figures standing further down, well out of sight of the street.<br/>Her sensitive eyes made out every detail with exquisite clarity. An older, bearded man in a long leather coat was handing a smaller man, a boy really, a small baggie filled with fine white powder.<br/>"This stuff is pure Colombian snow." the older man lied. "You're lucky, today I gave you a discount. Next time it won't be so cheap."<br/>The boy took the baggie. He couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. He was sweating and wide-eyed, obviously nervous. His eyes darted up and down the alley, completely missing Bronwyn hidden in the shadows not ten feet away.<br/>"How much will it be next time?" He asked, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right, then back again.<br/>"We'll talk about that next time, now won't we?" the dealer said dismissively. "Now you remember where you got that, and remember I got plenty more."<br/>The next time the boy bought coke, he would already be so addicted that he wouldn't care about the price. The dealer knew this, and undoubtedly gave all of his first time customers a "discount". Bronwyn's lip curled. This was perfect prey.<br/>Quicker than a blink, Bronwyn raced from the shadows and seized the dealer by the neck, cutting off whatever sound he would have made. The boy took off running down the alley, fear and adrenaline spurring his steps, not looking back. Bronwyn let him go, knowing the boy would think this was some drug-related fight, nothing he wanted to get involved in.<br/>The ancient vampire sank her fangs into the dealer's neck, pleased to find his rich blood clean and thick. She detested the taste of drugs of any kind, and apparently this was one of those dealers who didn't sample their own products. She drained the man completely dry, then rummaged through his pockets to find the weapon she was sure he carried. She found a long wicked-looking knife in his coat and used it to slit the dead man's throat, obscuring her distinct fang marks. There was no blood left in the corpse to bleed out, but Bronwyn didn't care. She doubted the police would care enough to do an autopsy.<br/>Thirst finally sated, for the moment at least, Bronwyn flung the body aside and headed back to the street.