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"How quickly do you need to be there?" Seal spoke in clipped German, almost as fast as Adrian. I lumbered along behind them both linguistically, German not being a language with which I'm very familiar, trying to follow the conversation without getting too lost.

"Before dawn."

Seal shook his head without even glancing at the cracked and broken clock that clung drunkenly to the wall over the table. "Impossible. It takes at least three days to make a passport that can get through international security."

"We don't have three days. We need to leave tonight." The muscles in Adrian's jaw tensed. I touched his arm, more as a way to remind him not to lose his temper with the forger than to assess how angry he was.

"That is no concern of mine. I'm telling you how long it will take me to make the passports."

"Do you have any idea who I am?" Adrian snarled, his fangs flashing wickedly sharp as he grabbed a handful of the stained T-shirt that drooped off Seal's chest, lifting him up and slamming him against a wall. A tendril of wallpaper drifted down at the impact, following in the path of a piece of disattached plaster.

"Yes, you're a Dark One," Seal squeaked, his arms and legs flopping around helplessly as Adrian held him a good foot off the ground. "A very big Dark One."

"I am the Betrayer," Adrian answered, his voice a low hiss that promised retribution if he was crossed. "I do not have three days."

"I might be able to do it in one," Seal gasped as Adrian lifted him higher against the wall. "Tonight! I could have it for you tonight! Twelve hours, that's the fastest I can make them."

Adrian snarled and let go of the man, who promptly fell in a whimpering heap. "To delay an extra day does not please me."

"Twelve hours is the fastest." Seal dragged himself to his feet, dusting off already filthy pants and unbunching his dirty tee with an odd sort of dignity. "It's not just a matter of putting pictures on existing documents. First I must find the names of people who've died recently, in order for the computers to register a history. Then I must create the holograms, and those take time. Twelve hours is barely enough time to do the background research, but as you are in such a hurry, I will make an exception for you."

Adrian grunted an acceptance.

"Now, shall we talk reimbursement for my services?" Seal asked, rubbing his large hands together.

"I have money," Adrian said stiffly, lying through his fangs as he took up a protective stance next to me. I leaned against his leg and tried to look wealthy.

Seal smiled. It was an awful thing, that smile, filled with black and yellow broken teeth, but the worst part was what the smile did to his eyes. He might not be one of the weirdo immortal beings who hung around Cologne, but the avarice that flashed in his eyes sent shivers down my back. "The lady, she is your Beloved?"

"The lady is none of your concern beyond making her a passport," Adrian growled.

Seal's smile grew broader until it was like looking at a grinning death's-head. "So she is your Beloved. The Betrayer has found his Beloved. And if I am not mistaken, she is a Charmer as well. How very interesting." He held up his hand quickly as Adrian took a menacing step forward."I meant no disrespect, of course. My price, ah, yes, my price. For this special rush job, for the exacting nature of the work you demand, my price is naturally higher than a lesser job."

"Naturally," Adrian said dryly.

Seal transferred his grin to me. My creepy shivers went into overtime. "You would not want me to provide your Beloved with a product that would not pass the scrutiny at the airports."

"Get to the point," Adrian snapped, moving closer to me.

"My point, Betrayer, is that my time, my expertise, and my resources do not come cheap. My price is not payment in coin, but payment in service."

"Service?" I asked, my German sounding thick and awkward in the strained atmosphere of the apartment. I cleared my throat. "What sort of service do you want? I can't charm anything, and my ward drawing is limited to a slippery containment ward and a binding ward."

Seal's smile dimmed significantly. He glanced quickly at Adrian before looking back at me. Leaning against Adrian's leg as I was, I knew the minute he picked up the scent of fear that Seal was exuding. "I find myself in the unenviable position of having attracted the attention of a member of the Eisenfaust. A most unwelcome attention, caused by a minor financial transaction gone awry."

"I told you I have money," Adrian said.

Seal's gaze slid away from Adrian as his large hands waved expressively. "The nature of the man in question has driven me to take drastic actions. He will no longer be satisfied with a mere repayment of the amount I owe him. He must be destroyed."

"Destroyed?" I asked suspiciously. "Financially, you mean?"

"Destroyed as in destroyed," he told me, his murky brown eyes meeting mine for a moment. The avarice still glowed behind their depths, mingling with a cruel satisfaction that had me even more worried.

"Killed," I said.

"Destroyed," he repeated, emphasizing the word. He glanced at Adrian again. "Killed would lead directly back to me. The rest of the Eisenfaust would come after me. The trail must not lead to me. He must be turned."

"Turned? What's that?" I didn't like the way Seal was looking at us any more than I liked the way Adrian moved away a step so I wasn't touching him. The fact that he didn't want me to feel his emotions was suspicious in itself.

"I agree to your price," Adrian said. "You will give me the man's address now, then you will begin work on the passports immediately."

"You will not get them until I have proof that the matter has been taken care of," Seal warned, scurrying around Adrian to unlock the many locks on the door.

"I will attend to it by sunset tonight," Adrian agreed, his voice as grim as the flat blue of his eyes.

I held my tongue, not wanting to grill Adrian in front of the creepy Seal, but the second the door closed I turned on him, clutching the arm of his coat. "OK, dish. What's this turning business?"

A glossy eyebrow cocked. "I'm surprised, Hasi. You seem to be so knowledgeable about vampire lore, I assumed you would know what it meant to turn a person."

"You're a Dark One, not a vampire," I said, poking him in the chest. He captured my hand in his, his fingers stroking mine. "And, as has been pointed out, I can no longer rely on Buffy to keep me au courant with matters vampiric."

He shooed me down the hallway. I skirted the pile of garbage that rustled ominously, racing down the stairs to the next floor before I added, "If you mean turning the way I think you mean turning, the answer is no. I won't let you make someone else a vampire."

"Dark One."

"Whatever. I won't let you do that. It'll screw up the whole soul-retrieval thing we have going on. Besides, I thought you told me Dark Ones could only be created by a demon lord or born to an unredeemed vamp."

"That is so."

"Then how does Seal expect you to turn someone?"

Adrian gave me a short, piercing glance. "I will turn the man over to a demon lord."

"Absolutely not!" I said quickly, giving him a fulminating glare. "Not on your coffin, you won't!"

He sighed. "I don't have a coffin, Nell."

"Well, thank heavens for small favors."

Adrian stopped on the landing to the floor below, taking my arm and turning me so I faced him in the dim light of the bulb overhead. "Hasi, we do not have a choice. I do not like this bargain any more than you do, but it is a price I can pay. We must have those passports. To delay will bring disaster upon our heads."