His eyes roamed the alley. A large dumpster stood less than twelve feet from the fire escape. He walked to it and inspected it. There were no rollers underneath it, and while he could have moved the heavy thing with his vampire strength to shift it closer to the fire escape, the noise of the metal scratching against the concrete underneath would wake the entire neighborhood.

Oliver climbed the dumpster, pushing the lid closed with his foot, then stepped onto it. He was almost eyelevel with the ladder now. He assessed the distance quickly and decided it was worth a try. Taking one step back, he lunged forward, jumping toward the fire escape, his arms reaching upward and forward. His fingers connected with the metal platform, instantly tightening around a rod as his body continued to swing.

“Gotcha!” he murmured under his breath and swung his legs up. Helped by his strong stomach muscles, he was able to lift himself onto the platform and stand up.

He looked up and took the two flights of the metal ladder up to the fourth floor, then stopped there. He pressed himself against the wall, making sure that he couldn’t be seen from the window of Vera’s anteroom. As he looked across to the small balcony in front of room 407, he realized that he had underestimated its distance to the platform he now stood on. There was no way he could jump from his current position and land on the balcony.

Looking for another solution, he glanced up. If he could get to the roof, he could jump straight down to the balcony. He focused his eyes and noticed several short metal rods sticking out from the wall, where at some point another ladder leading to the roof must have been affixed. For some reason it had been removed, but some of the metal rods that were anchored in the brick facade—and were no longer than three inches—had been left.

Oliver ducked to pass by the window and get to the other side of it, then lifted himself up onto the railing that surrounded the fire escape. From there, he stepped onto the first rod, gripping a higher one with his hand. Like a cat burglar, he worked his way up, careful not to lose his grip and fall and draw attention to himself.

Within seconds, he reached the roof and pulled himself onto it. Trying not to make too much noise, he treaded lightly and walked over to where the window to Ursula’s room was. He looked down. He was right above the slim balcony.

Oliver jumped, bending his knees all the way into a crouch to absorb the shock and sound as he landed squarely in the middle of the balcony. He quickly tossed a look toward the fire escape, but nobody had seen or heard him. The curtains were drawn in Ursula’s room, and the windows were closed. However, Oliver knew from experience, that the building was old and that many of the windows didn’t lock, since the old sash windows had warped over the years.

Praying that this was the case with this window, he gripped the frame and pushed upwards. It moved. As fast as he could, he lifted it and squeezed inside, knowing that Ursula would have already heard the noise. He couldn’t allow her to scream.

Frantically he parted the curtains. The light in the room was muted. Only a small bedside lamp was lit, the TV was running. Ursula had jumped up from the bed, the remote control lifted over her head as if she wanted to strike him with it.

“Ursula, it’s me. Oliver,” he announced himself.

She gasped and opened her mouth wider as if she wanted to scream. Out of instinct, he leapt and grabbed her, bringing them both down onto the bed, while he simultaneously pressed his hand over her mouth.

She struggled against him, beating her small fists against his chest.

“Shh! Ursula, stop, I’m not here to hurt you.”

She glared at him, fury blazing in her eyes. A second later, her teeth dug into his palm. She was biting him!

“Ouch! What are you doing that for?” He didn’t release her mouth though. “Are you promising not to scream if I take my hand off your mouth?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, then her leg suddenly wedged itself between his thighs and kicked up. But he was faster, shifting his weight and imprisoning her legs so she couldn’t try again to kick him in the balls.

“What was that for?” He let go of her mouth.

“You jerk! You betrayed me! You told them about my blood!” she spat.

“It wasn’t me! I never told them a syllable of what you confided in me.”

“Bullshit!” She hit him with a defiant glare. “Now get off me or I’ll scream for Vera.”

“You try to scream, I’ll kiss you! And trust me, I’m faster than you.” He was, and he wasn’t bluffing.

Ursula stilled under him. Slowly he shifted his weight onto his knees and elbows, making sure he wasn’t crushing her. But he had no intention of releasing her until he could be certain that she wouldn’t scream or escape him.