"Okay," says Cam blandly, and he goes up to the second floor bathroom, puts plastic bags on his legs, steps into the tub, removes offending appendages, and leaves them and the plastic bags there when he steps out again, now with added T-shirt.

He passes some bedrooms and a common area with a battered couch where a boy and a girl are making out. No one bothers him. 

Uh-huh.

He goes downstairs, sticks a small tracking device in Zach for future reference, waves to everybody politely, departs from the frat house, and makes himself a motorcycle, which he proceeds to ride around looking for a public library.

Sunnydale, California has one of those. It's closed because it's late at night.

Cam notes its location for future reference and looks for a pawn shop.

Several of those. Some of them are open despite the hour; they are named things like "CA$H QUICK NO QUE$TIONS" and "CA$H 4 GOLD".

Cam would like to pawn (he peeps in the window for ideas of the range) this violin and this string of pearls, here, and these articles of gold jewelry, there.

Cam can have a couple hundred dollars in cash from wary proprietors who have bars between him and them.

Cool. That will probably come in handy sooner or later.

Cam wanders around, puttering slowly on his motorcycle, assessing the place.

It seems like a deeply unpleasant sort of place. It goes on forever, one or two stories tall. There are a lot of vacant lots. Most of the streets don't have sidewalks. None of them have pedestrian crossings. He passes at least six different cemeteries and like twenty churches. A billboard advertises cigarettes. A strip club has a neon sign. 

He doesn't see any vampires. 

Apparently that's what most people see when they go looking for vampires, so. He'd still really rather like to figure out the vertebrate vampire situation before he does anything complicating with the invertebrate vampires. He can't think of a way for vampires to interact with the eradication of the malarial mosquito, but then he knows about two thirds of a thing about vampires from very unreliable drunk sources.

Putter putter putter. Eventually he pauses to sit on a bench and consume a chicken sandwich.

That gets someone to walk up to him. Girl, maybe his age, not very dressed. "That looks tasty," she says.

"Want some?"

"I think so." And her face transforms. It gets bumpier and - fangier - and she lunges forwards faster than anyone should be able to move and bites his neck.

How suggestive.

Cam waits to see if she will react in some way to how unbiteable he is.

She is startled by it. She tries again a couple times, then pulls back, snarling, and punches him in the face instead.

"Is punching also nutritious?" he asks mildly, when his sandwich goes flying and he has sat back up from being knocked against the back of the bench. "It doesn't seem like it would be."

Snarl! 

- and she turns to run off.

Her legs are tied together now. "Was it something I said?"

She violently attempts to free herself.

It's just rope, but there isn't a knot in it and it's very snug, which might make it hard. Cam gets up and wanders over to her. "Look, are you really hungry?" he asks.

With some apparent effort she un-snarls her face. "What are you?"

"I'm a -" Hm. "-n apsel. You, I'm assuming, are a vampire, have I got that right?"

"What do you want with me?"

"You're really gonna have to start answering questions at some point here or I'll still be standing over you at sunrise without any reliable information on whether you are about to die of that in some way."