"Relax, pal," Hi said as he stepped to the table. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd check on the plants."

Remer relaxed again, returning his feet to the desk top and locking his hands behind his head. Hi's back was to Remer, who couldn't see Hi slip the syringe out of the front of his shirt.

"I tried not to disturb you," Hi said. "How long have they had you on the graveyard shift?"

"Too long." Hi stuck the syringe needle into the plant stem. Remer, trying to stay awake, was not even looking toward Hi. "It is hard to imagine, your being unable to sleep."

Hi began extracting the dragon's blood with the plunger. "Well, I haven't been a vampire for long," Hi said. "I'm still learning all the ins and outs. It's hard to get used to the hours."

"You're telling me?"

Hi slipped the roughly half-filled syringe back into his shirt. Turning from the table, he saw Remer had his eyes closed. "I'm going to check the palm next door, okay?" Remer nodded without opening his eyes.

As Hi walked through the shadows to the Weinkellar door, he looked toward Crowley's cell to his right. Hi couldn't tell in the dark if Crowley was still there.

Entering the Weinkellar, Hi closed the door behind him. He stepped over to the open door of the small office and looked inside. Müller wasn't there. Hi then hurried to the fridge. He opened it and saw three full bottles of blood. Closing it, Hi turned quickly to the Dracaena palm on the counter. Once he had its extract he could go ahead and put all that he had so far into the three bottles of blood, which he was confident were for consumption that evening. Even if Hi couldn't get back to put in some more extract before the midnight meal, what he had would be better than nothing. Taking the syringe from his shirt, Hi first began emptying its contents into a vial.

Meanwhile Müller walked into the Weinberg. He found Oberschütze Remer sound asleep. Müller would deal with him later. For the moment the Obersturmbannführer looked toward the Weinkellar.

Hi was in the act of extracting dragon's blood from the palm when the door opened and Müller walked in. Hearing him enter, Hi yanked the syringe from the plant and hid it behind his back as he turned. But trying to hide the instrument was futile, for Müller had glimpsed it.

Müller swaggered over to Hi, who smiled, the syringe still behind his back. Hi wondered what to do as Müller, hands clasped behind his back, cockily stood there and rocked on his heels, waiting for an explanation. Hi's first impulse was to stick Müller between the eyes and pump in the juice. But that, too, would have been hard to explain.

"Tell me, Herr Hickenlooper," Müller said, "what is it about your plants?"

"What is it?" repeated Hi, as if the question were dumb, though he still didn't know how to answer. He knew he'd have to start with the truth. Still smiling, he took the syringe from behind his back. "The extract," he said. "Looks like you've caught me red-handed."

Müller, lips pursed, looked at the syringe in Hi's hand, then waited for Hi's further explanation.

"But I'll make a deal with you," Hi told him in a confidential tone. Gesturing with the syringe, he said, "Wanna try some?"

Hi saw the expression change in Müller's eyes. He could see that Müller was catching on. That is, Müller thought he was catching on.

"How about tonight?" Hi asked encouragingly. "You know the best time? Just before dinner. It takes a few hours to hit you."

Müller looked tempted. But still suspicious.

"What's it called?" Müller asked.

"Uh--Dracaena palm extract. D.P.E. That's--'dope' in English." Hi chuckled at the ad-libbed acronym. Müller looked at him curiously. "Don't worry," Hi assured him. "Non-addictive."

Müller considered, his eyes shifting back and forth between the syringe in Hi's hand and Hi's eyes.

"Pretty good stuff, eh?" asked Müller.

" 'Pretty good'?" Hi almost laughed. "It'll blow the top of your head off."