Heron's Office self para
In the quiet office, door waiting to accept the key hidden away in a bundle passed along to Althea Baines in a bundle of files and names and annotated photos and notes, sits an envelope marked simply 'Althea'
Whenever it's found, and opened, therein sits the following letter, written in script that's markedly Heron's, but also notably hurried and shaky; out of sorts.
Althea, If you're reading this, they got me. I'm not sure how, but I can tell it's close to the end for me, hunt-wise. I don't know what will happen from here - God willing, you'll never see me again. I'm leaving my office in your name - paperwork's already been sorted. Keep it, sell it, whatever - I know you don't like to be tied down. The Fellowship is full of holes, Althea. Holes that need plugged. Hunters getting too attached to what they hunt and who see the human masks and take them at face value, ha ha ha. I don't know if I'll see Book or Hadley again before I leave - send them my regards. You can have my stuff. There's another letter, send it for me, will you? There's people in B.C. I'd like to say a proper goodbye to. It's my intenton to leave the city, but I don't know if I'll make it past the next Full Moon. You'll find my address book in the safe in my office - the key's in the packet I gave you when we talked at your camper. Be careful, Althea. Monsters are good at hiding. Be better than them. I always thought I'd go down in a blaze of glory, but I don't want to die, frankly, so I'll take my chances on the run. Do better than we did, Kid. Hunting isn't something you retire from, so you gotta make sure you can pass it to somebody when your number's up. But if you can manage it? Die Human. H.
On the back of the letter, written in an even hastier line, is the following:
P.S. Tell Booker's kid that if she's gonna fuck a Vampire long-term to at least be more discreet about it. Jesus Christ.