THE INCREDULITY IN WILLIAMS' VOICE WHEN I radio that I've got The Ghost and the look on his face when he approaches the car and sees him unconscious against the steering wheel bring a smile to my face each time I think of them.

But what follows over the next two days is not funny.

Williams is mortified that he hadn't bothered to ask for identification when the unfamiliar officer presented himself as his driver. But why would he? He was in the basement of his very own police department among a swarm of officers, not all of whom he could be expected to know personally.

Compounding the humiliation is guilt because a police officer was killed. There are questions from the press, from the officer's family, from the mayor and members of the city council. No one except those involved in the operation knew about The Ghost. The press is outraged that they were tricked into thinking David was dead. Now, the way Williams handled the situation is put under a spotlight and his every decision examined. The spotlight is not a comfortable place for an old-soul vampire to be.

I almost feel sorry for him. But while he is busy defending his choices, I am free to make some of my own. He leaves me a telephone message that he won't be going back to the park for a while. The press is hounding him and while he doesn't come out and say it, I know he can't take a chance that a reporter might see him disappearing through a magic doorway into an invisible underground facility. On top of everything else, that would be hard to explain.

Receiving the message is a relief. I'd already decided I'd had enough of the Watchers. Telling Williams that, though, is not going to be easy. I feel as if I've been granted a reprieve, even if it's only temporary.

After the capture of The Ghost, I returned to the hospital to welcome David back to the land of the living. Once the story got out, he had reporters camped at his bedside, too, until the hospital administration put a stop to it. Max and I were the only visitors allowed in to see him.

Then, Max left the hospital. He left without seeing me. I guess it's just as well. He knows what I am. I thought for a fleeting moment he might accept it. Since he didn't bother to say good-bye, I guess he doesn't.

I went back to the Kona Kai once, to return the clothes. I kept the shoes though. Seemed like a just reward. Maybe I should have checked out, too, but Williams can afford to pay for the room. I just want to put this last week behind me.

Seven days. It's hard to believe all that's happened in a little over one week. I know I should go see Culebra. Make sure he doesn't try to go after Burke alone. I never found out what happened when he tried to follow me, either. Considering we took off in a helicopter, I can't imagine he got very far.

But for a few days, I decide to cling only to the human side of my nature. I visit David at the hospital every day and we actually laugh again and talk the way we used to. There's no more discussion of dissolving our partnership.

And no Gloria. I still can't believe it. I try now and again to bring up the subject, but he insists he doesn't know where she is or why she hasn't come to the hospital. He is curt and abrupt when he talks about it, but I see the sadness in his eyes. I hope I get the opportunity to make the selfish bitch pay for his pain. I look forward to it.

Today David is being released from the hospital. I plan to pick him up and bring him to the loft. I've decided to stay with him a few days, mindful that I'll have to avoid mirrors and be careful around the windows at night.

Next week, my family returns from Europe. I can't wait to see them. I've been so busy taking care of the vampire Anna, that I almost lost track of the human.

I don't intend for that to happen again.