Leif strolled down the crowded street with all of his senses open and alert. The cop side of him had him instinctively looking for trouble from the human faction. His vampyre side was searching for the signatures of the rogue's two minions. Dressed in an old, tight pair of jeans and a torso-hugging black T-shirt, his military-cut hair back to its natural black rather than the Aryan blonde it had been dyed for a recent undercover job, he looked very different from the way he had the previous evening at the club.
He had chosen the area around the club for his first foray into finding the minions. His hope—and fear—was that they were indeed keeping an eye on Kemp and wouldn’t stray far from the area as a result.
Angry voices came through the open doorway of one of the clubs and he started towards them before realizing that it wasn’t his business to do anything. Not home, he told himself sternly. Not my job. But he did look around for the locals and saw a pair of cops on foot patrol watching the same doorway.
Moving on, he turned the corner onto a side street, heading to the alley that ran behind the various clubs and strip joints. A quick glance down it showed that it was vacant of anything that concerned him. A few loafers catching a smoke of the illegal kind, one pair of men getting it on in the shadows of a large dumpster, but no vampyres—minions or otherwise.
And so the night continued—long and essentially boring—but he was used to that. At one point he’d thought he felt the signature of one of the minions and started to track it. If it was the vampyre in question, he vanished before Leif could get to him.
Just before sunrise he was ready to call it a night. He spotted a young woman, a club employee he figured, heading down the nearly vacant street towards him, probably on her way home. As he watched her, he realized that with all he’d been doing he’d neglected to feed. He paused, turning to look at a poster advertising a new local band, until she came closer. He could sense her wariness and smiled at her, taking over control of her mind as he did so. After that it took nothing to lead her to the deep recess of a doorway and feed. When he’d finished, he wiped her mind of the memory, healed the wound, and sent her on her way.
Afterward, headed back to his hotel, where he called Trevor to tell him he’d had no luck. Then he sprawled out on the bed, after making certain the heavy drapes were tightly closed and the door locked and bolted. Soon he was deeply asleep.