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Faith grimaced as she opened her eyes and groggily glanced around. Then her eyes widened and she got up, ignoring the slight dizziness she felt.

“What the hell is this?” she demanded looking around the room that was covered in cling-wrap. The guy she met at a club was just wrapping up some sort of table, but what bothered her more than the whole cling-wrap shit were the knives and saws next to him. She probably shouldn’t have asked questions and instead knocked the weirdo out before he knew she was awake, but she seriously wanted an explanation. Besides, she was a slayer, she could take him.

At the sound of her voice Dexter turned around, staring at the young woman in disbelief. How the hell could she be awake already? Had he messed up the dosage? How could he have been so sloppy?

“Surprise,” he muttered as he grabbed a knife. It looked like he would have to change his plans.

As he lunged at her Faith blocked his attack and pushed him back hard, making him knock down his bag of knives as he fell to the ground.

With a frown on her face she watched him get up, a mad look on his face.

“You seriously abducted the wrong girl, asshole,” she called. If he wanted an easy prey he sure as hell was in for a big surprise.

“Oh I don’t think so,” Dexter said, briefly glancing at the wall with photos of her victims. He had done his research. He had a file of all open cases involving serial killers and when he saw Faith he knew he had seen her face before. One look into his files and bingo. It hadn’t been hard to find evidence of her guilt either. She had a bag full of weapons stashed in her motel room.

Faith followed his glance and saw her weapons bag on the ground.

“You broke into my room?” she asked feeling annoyed. But then her eyes locked on the photographs that were hanging on the wall above her bag. She gulped, her face paling.

“Don’t like to see your victims?” Dexter asked.

Faith stared at the pictures before turning to him.

“Is this why I’m here?” she asked silently, anger and resolve leaving her body.

Dexter stared at her. This so wasn’t what he had expected. Most people pretended not to know who the people in the pictures were or tried to make him believe that they had nothing to do with whatever crimes had been committed. Not her.

He didn’t have to answer, she saw it on his face. Then he attacked.

He was a really good fighter, but it didn’t take long and Faith knocked him out cold.

Grabbing her bag she then knelt down beside him.

“You know, a few years ago I would have let you go through with this,” she told his unconscious form.

“But now... well, let’s just say I still have things to make up for.”