Vic wrapped his leather coat tight against his body and kept to the shadows, not because he needed to but because he found the gloom satisfying. There weren’t many people out at this late hour and he eyed the few he encountered critically, getting a good sniff as he passed them on the pavement. No one appealed, though, and he wasn’t really hungry. For all Ricky’s complaints about his transparent motives, this nighttime mission was, for once, not about food.
He found the door, passed a hand over the lock and slipped inside, ignoring the alarm. It took only a moment to find the display, and he had to kneel to unlock the storage cabinet, but at last he had the item in his hands. He could’ve bought it, but human money was so worthless, what was the point? Besides, human stores weren’t open at convenient times for a vampire.
Vic tucked the box under his coat and slipped outside, with the alarms ringing a clarion as he went back into the night. He, of course, had no use for a pocket-sized DMB television with MP3, JPEG and video capability, but sometimes one had to make sacrifices. He ducked into the shadows as a cop car screamed past, then pulled the box closer and continued walking.
It crossed his mind that maybe he should stop for wrapping paper, but he dismissed the thought as frivolous. There were limits, after all. He chuckled to himself, thinking how surprised the human would be, and murmured to himself, “Happy Birthday, Ricky.”