 
CAPTIVE

(Blood Bound Book 1)

By Jennifer Leigh

Copyright 2013 Jennifer Leigh

All Rights Reserved

Discover other titles by Jennifer Leigh at  www.smashwords.com

Cover design by  Ally Thomas

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Adult Content

In order to protect minors from viewing inappropriate material, please know that this book may contain language, situations or images inappropriate for children under 17 years of age.

Dedication

First, thank you to my family, who has always supported me. Jessica, who suffered through many late night read throughs. My friends, for putting up with me. Ally Thomas, for all of her help with final edits, and for my lovely book cover. You can reach her page, and read her works, at Allythomas.com. And lastly, the people who download and read this book. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

CAPTIVE

(Blood Bound Book 1)

By Jennifer Leigh

Copyright 2013 Jennifer Leigh

Prologue ~ London 1764

I stumbled down the busy street, weaving my way through a sea of never ending bodies, my stomach grumbling and my body shaking. I hadn't eaten anything more than rotting cheese and raw potatoes for the last week. I felt weak, and sick to my stomach, the world spinning around me, my wobbly legs barely able to support the weight of my frail body. I pushed myself to keep going.

To where? I didn't know. To who? I didn't have anyone left.

I pictured my parents faces in my mind: my Mother's kind eyes, my Father's stern but loving features, and I felt the tears began to fall.

Not fair. Not fair.

I wiped away the tears with the tattered and dirty sleeve of my dress. The smell of urine and dirt clinging to it sent a wave nausea crashing over me, and I stumbled forward, crashing into a man. I heard him curse and rage in a language I didn't understand, and then he shoved me away from him. I fell backwards, my head slamming against the ground. Starbursts of light blossomed behind my closed eyelids as pain shot through my head like a rampaging bull. I felt the bile rise in my throat, threatening to choke me. I rolled onto my side, the pain in my head causing me to cry out, and I vomited into the street. My head pounded with each heave of my stomach, and I felt as if my skull would split open at any second.

I cried.

And even though I knew she couldn't come for me, I cried for my mother. I sat in the street vomiting, and crying for parents that would never come, until the pain in my head subsided to a dull throb and my stomach had completely emptied itself. When the nausea had finally become bearable again, I opened my eyes. My vision was blurred from tears, but I didn't dare wipe them away.

Everything looked blurry, but I could still make out the people on the street, they were ignoring me, skirting around me like I was nothing more than a rotting carcass in the street. I saw several children my age, clinging to their mothers dresses as they passed me, as if they were afraid I would jump out and bite them.

Again, pain tore through me.

Not physical pain, but the kind that rips you apart from the inside out. Loneliness. Anger. Despair. Why couldn't I have just died with my parents? Why had I been left alive to suffer?

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, I managed to push myself to my feet and carry on.

I walked in a daze, oblivious to the world around me, as I drowned in my sorrows, wishing death would find me and take me to my parents. As a light rain began to mist everything in it's wake, my stomach again began to growl. So hungry. I passed several women selling breads and fruits from wicker baskets, the overpowering scent of the food made my mouth water with anticipation. I had to fight the urge to look at them. The sight of the food would just make me hungrier, and I had no money, or possessions to barter with.

All around me the city was alive, a cacophony of sounds ringing in my ears. The sun, which had been previously blocked by dark rain clouds was now a bright orange orb in the sky. I passed a church, and considered taking refuge there. But to my dismay, I saw that the doors were boarded shut, preventing entry. With a sigh, I fought off another wave of tears, and continued down the street, hopelessness consuming me with every step I took. I walked until my legs screamed in protest and my knees wobbled beneath me, my bare feet sore and burning.

I walked until I reached the Thames river, and collapsed onto the bank. I sat on the ground, my legs trembling, as I watched the wooden ships sail into port. Hunger pains twisted my stomach into knots as I watched boxes and boxes of food and spice being unloaded, and carried towards the city. I wrapped my arms around my legs and rested my forehead on my knees. I was tired, but sleep had evaded me for the last several days. I closed my eyes, and let my mind drift. I saw memories of my father bringing me to the river, me sitting on his shoulders and pointing excitedly to the ships that were sailing in. I'd watch, enraptured, as people from all around the world emerged from the ships in order to make their wealth. I'd enjoyed watching it all, watching as life unfurled around me. But not now. Now I just felt hollow and empty.

Then it suddenly hit me, a way I could be done with everything and finally be with my parents.

Slowly, I got to my feet and ignoring the pain, I limped towards the waters edge. Again, the people ignored me. Their voices meaningless noise in the background. I stood looking down into the murky depths of the water, the wind blowing tendrils of my dirty hair into my face.

Just do it, I thought. It'll be over fast enough.

But God wouldn't like that, a voice argued back. It is a sin.

But God is the one that took my Mummy away, I thought angrily. He can't keep me from her, it isn't fair!

I stepped forward.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you little one." A voice said suddenly, startling from my stupor. "The water is very dirty."

I spun around to see who had spoken, but I could see no one, just the men working. I scanned the bank, my heart pounding in my chest, and then I saw him. He was sitting on the ground several feet away from me, his back leaning against a pile of stacked boxes. I blinked once, twice as I tried to take in what little I could see of his appearance. Most of his body was draped in a thick gray cloak that completely covered his face and clothing. His face was turned towards me, but all I could see beneath the cloak was darkness. My eyes rested on him for a few minutes, and then I looked around to see if I had been mistaken. Maybe he had been talking to someone else? After all, no one else had bothered speaking to me after I had fled from my parents funeral, weeping.

"I am talking to you, little one." He said, answering my unspoken question.

I turned back towards him, and stared, stupefied. Everyone else in port was seemingly ignoring this peculiar man. Was he all alone like me?

"I am," again he answered my question without me having to ask it. "I have no one." He sounded sad.

A part of me knew that I should have been afraid of this strange man with wicked powers, but a part of me was also drawn to him.

Despite my fears, I found myself walking slowly towards him. And even though I couldn't see his face, I could feel him watching me intently, studying me as I approached him.

I knelt on my knees besides him, and tried to peer past the darkness that engulfed his face. As if sensing my curiosity he reached up with a gloved hand, and pulled several dark and soiled bandages from around his face. They fell to the ground, and I stared at him, entranced. He was deathly pale, his skin stretched tight over his bones. His bright blue eyes were sunk into his head, and strands of pale blonde hair were stuck to his forehead.

Was he dying?

Was he dying alone?

I looked down, and was startled to see two long teeth poking from between his cracked lips, they looked like snake fangs. Curious, I reached out with a slow, tentative hand and touched the tip of one of the fangs with my finger. It felt cool against my skin.

"You are not afraid?" He asked curiously, and I realized with a start that his lips weren't moving.

I shook my head. "Are you an angel?" I asked.

He laughed, and the sound rang in my head like bells. "No one has ever asked me that before." He paused and then said slowly, "you are peculiar, little one. Tell me, what is it that causes you to despair so?"

"I wanted to see my parents," I said meekly, my voice hiccupping.

"They are dead?"

I nodded in response.

"Do you have no family to care for you?"

I shook my head, tears pooling in my eyes. "Alone."

He closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the box. "As am I little one, as am I."

I stared at him for a little while longer, taking in the sickliness of his appearance. "Are you waiting here to die?" I asked suddenly, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Why would you think that?"

"You sound sad, like me." I noted. "And you look sick."

He smiled, flashing more of his sharp, pointed teeth. "I am not sick. Though, you are correct about one thing, I am waiting here to die."

"Why?"

"I am tired. I would like to find peace."

He is a monster! A voice in the back of my mind nettled. He is a bad demon! They tell lies and eat children!

Yet, despite that, he was the only one that had paid any attention to me.

"Can I stay with you until you leave?" I asked him suddenly, surprising even myself.

He opened his eyes, and looked at me curiously. He looked even more confused than I did about my question. "Stay with me? But why? Why would you want to do that?"

"So you don't have to be alone." And so I don't either, even if it is only for a little bit.

With a start I had realized how lonely I had been over the past few weeks. I'd had no one to talk to, no one to hold me, and no one to comfort me. People either looked at me with pity, or completely ignored my existence. But nobody had actually stopped and tried to understand, or even tried to help me in the smallest. I'd been alone in the truest sense of the word, and it had felt like a hole punched in my gut. Even if he was soon to die, it would be nice to have the interaction, even if it was only for a little bit. And even if he was a monster, no one deserved to die alone. No one.

He just stared at me, shock clearly written all over his gaunt face. For a moment I was afraid that he would reject me, tell me to go away and I found more tears prickling at the back of my eyelids. But finally he said, "you are perhaps the strangest child I have ever met. However, I find that I take comfort in your companionship. If you so wish it, you may stay with me until the time comes."

With a smile, I wiped away several tears that had fallen.

Finally, someone had noticed me.

Chapter One ~ Present Day

My eyelids fluttered open, and I was greeted with a familiar and welcoming darkness. Mind still foggy from sleep, I tried to pick through the events of my dream. I hadn't thought about that day in a very long time. In fact, most of my memories of that time were now just bits and pieces, scattered fragments too small to be pieced back together again. Even my beloved parents faces were now a blur to me.

I have little to no recollection of the time and place I had once called home. And even as I contemplated the dream, the images began slipping from my mind, like sand through my fingertips. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, my dream almost now completely forgotten. Oh well. I never liked to dwell to much on the past anyways.

"Abel?" I asked with a yawn. "Are you awake?"

Silence was my response.

Despite, the fact that I could not see my hand in front of my face, I could feel him next to me, his body lying parallel to my own, his back pressed against mine.

"Abel?" I nudged him with my elbow.

Nothing. Still dead. The sun had not quite set yet.

Great.

Sighing, I wiggled my way onto my back, and pushed up with my hands. The hinges groaned as the lid lifted, filling my nostrils with much needed air.

I sat up, and stretched my muscles, taking a deep refreshing breath of cool air. I blinked several times, trying to adjust my eyes to the dim light that illuminated the room.

Familiar white washed concrete walls lined with black metal scones with red tapered candles greeted me as I swung my leg over the edge of the coffin and pushed myself to my feet. My eyes scanned the room, taking in every little detail. There were no decorations, or furniture, just the sconces that lined the wall, and the mahogany wood coffin smack dab in the center. A single metal door bolted shut was the only entrance in to or out of the room.

"And good evening to you," I said aloud to no one.

I ran a hand through my tousled hair, and turned my attention back to the coffin. Abel was lying perfectly still, his back towards me, his long blonde hair fanned about the red velvet pillow. I padded slowly towards him, the painted concrete of the floor cool against my bare feet, and shut the lid of the coffin. There was no windows in the room, and it was sealed against any light intrusion, but I still felt that I was leaving him vulnerable if I left the lid propped open.

I unbolted the lock to the main door, closed it behind me and jogged up the stairs.

Despite, the fact that the main house was wired with a state of the art security system, Abel insists on keeping his coffin room (originally the basement) locked away behind two main doors. The first being a thick oak wood door, locked from the inside. The second, the metal door. If someone did manage to get inside during the daytime, it was unlikely they'd get past the oak door, as all the locks were on the inside. Same with the metal door. However, his greatest defense was not the doors or the alarm, it is his natural defensive reflexes to protect his resting place. If any unknown persons were to attempt to open the lid while he was sleeping in it . . . Well, lets just say, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes.

Over the years, I've learned much about vampire lore, but no one has been able to tell me how vampires can perceive threats to themselves while they are dead to the world. I'd seen a vampire protect its coffin once, and believe you me, it is not a pretty sight. She'd looked like a puppet being controlled by invisible strings. She had lashed out at the unlucky man with her razor sharp teeth, ripping his throat out, her body still lifeless, no spark of life behind her cold, dead eyes. The moment his last breath had left his body, hers fell back into her coffin, as if someone had cut the invisible strings. I'd had nightmares about the incident for weeks.

After I unlocked the oak door, I stepped into the hallway and immediately headed into the bathroom across from my mostly unused bedroom. I stood in front of the mirror, and switched on the light. My reflection stared back at me. Despite, the fact that I'd had well over eight hours of sleep, I still looked tired. My pale blonde hair was tangled, and slight bags were starting to form under my eyes. My skin was chalk white, but that was nothing new given the fact that my sleeping hours kept me from having absolutely any sun exposure. Even if I wasn't a vampire, I could probably pass for one in certain circles. Before I headed into the kitchen, I ran a brush through my hair, washed my face and hands, and gargled mouth wash to get the 'morning' breath taste out of my mouth. I bounded through the living room, opening the curtains as I passed them, and into the small kitchen. Since Abel doesn't eat food in the sense that I do, our kitchen/dining room is very small. The fridge and pantry stayed stocked with foods and drinks of my preference, along with blood bags in the crisper, and only the necessary appliances on the counter. There was no dining table, only several stools set up next to the bar counter. The only thing taking up space in the small dining area, a large liquor cabinet filled to the brim with every kind of alcohol imaginable.

Anyone ever tell you vampires don't drink? Don't believe them.

Even though they can't get drunk like normal humans, they seem to enjoy the taste of it. The only way for a vampire to get truly intoxicated is for them to drink the blood of a completely soused human. And even then, the buzz really doesn't last very long.

I threw open the curtains over the kitchen sink, and opened the window. Through the forest of trees that surrounded our home, I could see that the sun had nearly set, the sky a vibrant magenta with dark rolling clouds that stretched across the horizon. The usual sounds of birds, cicadas and crickets greeted me. Today, however, I could smell the scent of rain carried on a cool breeze. We hadn't had rain in a while.

I whipped up a 'breakfast' of sausage, and bacon on the little electric griddle next to the stove while I buttered several biscuits I kept stashed away in a Tupperware container. As the bacon sizzled, I poured myself a large glass of milk and walked into the living room to turn off the alarm system.

When the food was done cooking, I piled it all onto a paper plate, and headed out to sit on the back porch. Abel's backyard consists of about 40 acres of forest. There is no fence to mark his property lines, but we are far out enough into the country that we hardly ever get any unwelcome visitors.

Most of the land he owns consists of trees, trees and more trees. However, there is a small lake about a mile or so from the house. It's good for swimming in warmer weather, and during winter when the weather falls below freezing, it is good for ice skating (or in my case, attempting).

I sat down on the small porch, letting my feet dangle over the edge and scanned the tree line. Nothing. Before I dug into my breakfast, I whistled loudly for Etienne. I was popping a piece of bacon into my mouth when he came bounding through the thicket of trees in front of me, green leaves clinging to his midnight black fur. He padded towards me, his head held high, his golden eyes shining in the light of the setting sun. He leapt up onto the porch and nuzzled his wet nose into the crook of my neck.

Etienne, is a black wolf, and he is Abel's familiar. He's also somewhat my guard wolf, and also our first line of defense against intruders. For most vampire familiars, their main task is to guard their charges during the day, and so vampires mainly prefer animals with a bit of oomph and power. Wolves, and large cats are particularly popular animals. They are bonded to their vampire masters by blood, and are able live very long lives.

When I had first met Abel, Etienne had been about fifty years old. He didn't take to me, at first. I actually think he was kind of jealous. But he warmed up to me after a while, and after that, it didn't take very long for him to consider me as part of his and Abel's 'pack'. And like Abel, Etienne can be a tad over protective. He gave me one last playful nudge in the shoulder, before I pushed my plate of leftovers towards him. Like me, he has a soft spot for bacon. He devoured it greedily, and then curled up next to me, resting his head in my lap.

And as the sun set over the western horizon, I scratched Etienne behind his ear as I thought absently about my long forgotten memories.

Chapter Two

Abel emerged from the house several minutes after dark. He was wearing what he had slept in, a blue button down shirt, and black slacks. He was carrying a tumbler of brandy in one hand, his other shoved into his pants pocket. He flashed me a lopsided grin before he turned to stare out at the scenery.

"You had a very interesting dream last night," he said, as he swirled his drink.

Another interesting side effect of my blood bond to Abel is that when I'm sleeping, and he is dead for the day, he sometimes experiences my dreams as if they were his own. Though, that only seems to happen when the dreams incite a strong emotional response in me.

"I was surprised," I told him truthfully. "I haven't thought about that day in a long time. It was something I would have preferred not to think about." Meeting Abel had been the best thing that had ever happened in my life, but the emotional turmoil that had preceded it had been a storm of depression that I never wanted to have to repeat. Being only ten years old at the time, my parents death had shaken me to my very core. And being alone on the streets the weeks before Abel had found me, had been hell. If he hadn't stopped me that day, I would have no doubt thrown myself in the river out of despair.

"'Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.'"

"Who said that?" I asked curiously.

"Buddha," he answered and then took a sip of his drink.

I had to stifle a giggle. A vampire quoting Buddha? Then again, in all the long years that I had known him, Abel still never failed to surprise me.

I sat in silence patting Etienne's head while Abel stood, sipping his drink and staring out at the peaceful scenery before us. Standing there, his long silky hair blowing in the wind, and his pale luminescent skin glowing in the moonlight, he looked like a painting come to life.

Abel, is what many would call the quintessential vampire beauty. His wheat blonde hair which, is several shades darker than my pale blonde, reaches to just past the middle of his back. He's tall, standing at just a little over six feet, and all lean muscle. His facial features are soft, and somewhat feminine. Though, no one in their right mind would ever mistake him for female. His best feature? Almond shaped cerulean colored eyes that are framed by long blonde lashes. To me, he has always looked more angel than vampire.

Well, an angel of death, maybe.

"I've some business to attend to this evening," he said suddenly, shaking me from my thoughts, "do you have anything to occupy your time?" Translation: I need the house, and you need to leave.

Despite, the fact that my bond to Abel is well known in the vampire community, he still liked to keep me separated from his 'vampire business'.

I thought on it, I hadn't really planned on doing anything at all except lounge around the house, catch up on my reading, maybe do some spot cleaning.

"I guess I could head down to Ragnarok," I said with a shrug, "Scarlet Angel is playing tonight and drinks are half-off. I haven't been dancing in a while."

Ragnarok, is a small club in the heart of the city, and one of the only places in the world where vampires can mingle freely with humans. Though, most of the human population isn't aware that vampires even exist, there are some that are privy to the information. These humans are sworn to secrecy by a group of vampires that have dubbed themselves as 'the protectorate'. I suppose you could say that they are the vampires ruling government. I don't really know how their "government" functions, as I haven't had to deal with it much myself, but it seems to have been running successfully for far longer than I've been alive. Abel, on the other hand, has dealt with them on numerous occasions. Though, he has always kept me distanced from the dealings.

"Alice. ." There was a warning note in his voice as he turned to look at me, his eyebrow cocked. "You know how I feel about you frequenting that den of iniquity. I do not like you being around that many vampires at once, there are too many wild-cards."

"Abel," I said rolling my eyes at him, "no one talks like that anymore. Besides, Marie will be there. She works there now, or did I tell you?" I thought about it . .Oops, I had forgotten to tell him. "Marie works at Ragnarok as a bartender," I said meekly. "She told me to tell you when I saw her last week."

He sighed, as he reached up and massaged his temple with his free hand. "What am I going to do with you?" He raised his glass to his lips, and finished the rest of his brandy in one giant gulp. "Very well. Go to your club, and have your fun. But do try and stay out of trouble while you are there."

I smiled, and nodded. "Of course!"

Excited about the turn my evening had taken, I gave Etienne one last pat on the head, and then bounced to my feet as he gave an exasperated snort. I grabbed my plate, and rushed inside, giving Abel a peck on the cheek before I closed the sliding glass door behind me. I tossed my trash into the trashcan, and bounded up the stairs to my bedroom, humming happily as I went.

My bedroom is big. In fact, it's two rooms merged into one. When we had first moved in, Abel had the wall between the two rooms knocked down so I could have more room for my stuff. My king sized canopy bed was set up in the center, sheer curtains surrounding it. There was also a large cedar chest, chest of drawers, dresser, large bookshelf and metal vanity table. Because I never slept in the bed, every inch of it was covered in clothes. The vanity table piled high with make-ups and different perfumes. Over two hundred books were lined up in the bookcase, and stacked next to it in haphazard piles. I pushed my closet door open, and switched on the light. My closet, like my room, is big. It's one of those giant walk-ins. Clothes lined the walls, were tossed onto the ground, and over a hundred pair of shoes lined the floor. I scoured through them trying to find the perfect outfit for the night, adding more clothes to the pile already on the floor. In the end, I decided on a fuchsia sequined racerback tank top, black leggings and my favorite lace-up platform booties. I dressed in record time, and then plopped down at my vanity table.

For me, a little makeup goes a long way. Black eyeliner, mascara and cherry flavored lip gloss. As for my hair, I simply ran a brush through it, and let my natural waves run wild.

I gave myself a once-over in the mirror. Despite, the fact that there is absolutely no familial relation to Abel and myself, a lot of people and vampires have remarked on our similar appearances. Like him, I have long blonde hair, but while his is straight, mine is usually a mass of pale blonde waves. My eyes, instead of being blue, are hazel, the kind that can never decide on if they want to be green or brown. I have a small button nose and bow shaped lips. Standing at five foot five, I'm somewhat tall, and like Abel, I'm thin and willowy. I don't think I'm drop-dead gorgeous, but I know that I'm pretty, and I don't have qualms about using my natural womanly wiles on occasion.

When I was done prepping, I grabbed my purse from the bed, tossed my keys inside and rushed down the stairs. Abel was standing by the front door waiting.

"You look lovely," he said as he handed my cell phone.

I took my phone from him, and tossed it into my purse. "Thank you," I told him and he leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the lips. I could smell the metallic scent of blood on his breath.

"I do not know how long this business meeting will take, so call before you come home, or I will call you when it is finished."

"Gotcha!" I reached up, wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a quick hug before I hurried outside.

My baby, a refurbished black 1946 Lincoln continental, was parked in the driveway. Abel had bought it for me as a birthday present in 1947. We managed the upkeep over the years by being extremely careful, and only allowing the most able mechanic, an eighty year old vampire named John, to touch it.

In fact, he cherishes the car more than I do. Every time he does a tune-up, he acts like he's refurbishing the Mona Lisa.

Ragnarok, is about a forty-five minute drive from the house, a little over half an hour if the traffic is light and I don't mind chancing a speeding ticket or two. Tonight the traffic was light, but I decided to drive slow, rolling down the windows, and taking in the scenery. A large full moon was shining brightly in the cloud filled sky, as raindrops misted the windshield. A little under half of the drive is through country. And by country, I mean, fields with cows and horses, rolling hills, giant bales of hay and corn fields as far as the eye can see. There is also masses of moss covered oak trees, and long winding dirt roads. I enjoy it. The solitude, being surrounded by nature. The country smells different than the city, and it feels different to. Not to mention, we don't have to worry about nosy neighbors poking around.

When I finally reached the city limits, the roads crowded, and I had to speed up to keep with the flow of traffic. I drove the main highway most of the way, and then turned off into the heart of downtown.

Ragnarok, though not frequented by many humans, is a bustling hot spot at night. So I wasn't surprised to see a line forming out front. The bouncer, a vampire named Jett, was standing next to the door, his beefy arms folded over his massive chest. I drove the car behind the club to the VIP parking area. There were a few other cars there, some I recognized, and some I did not. I parked, leaned across the seat and opened the glove compartment. I grabbed a can of mace, and a bottle of coconut pineapple scented body spray. The mace can is my first line of defense against feisty vampires. It's actually filled with holy water and a tiny consecrated cross. It has saved my ass more than a few times. I stowed it in the front pouch of my purse for easy access, and then proceeded to spritz the body spray on every inch of my bare skin. Humans can't entirely hide their natural body scent from vampires, but they can slightly cover it up. I tossed my purse over my shoulder, and stepped out of my car, locking the door behind me. Before I headed into the club, I checked my reflection in the mirror one last to make sure my hair and makeup were still in place. It was. Since the rain was starting to pick up, I sprinted to the club entrance, careful not to trip in my heels.

Because it caters to vampires, there is no windows anywhere on the brick and concrete building. A red neon sign with Ragnarok spelled out in cursive is the only decoration the building has. I pushed my way past a group of goth girls that were giggling hysterically, and checking their makeup in small compact mirrors. From a quick head count, I guessed that there was about fifty or sixty people standing in line. I estimated that about forty percent of them were humans, that had no clue about the vampire clientele. They would be turned away at the door. To get into Ragnarok you have to present a special card to the bouncer on duty. Either that, or they all had to know you by face and association. Though I have a card, thanks to Abel's connections, all of the bouncers know me by face and name. Abel is a longtime friend of the clubs owner, Annabelle. A raven haired vampire beauty, with emerald green eyes. I like Annabelle.

Jett recognized me instantly when I approached him. He acknowledged my presence with a small head nod. To me, he's always looked more like a wrestler than a bouncer. He's tall, burly and bald with a dark goatee and coal black eyes.

"Alice," he said, his deep, gruff voice matched his appearance perfectly. "Go ahead."

He pushed open the metal door to the club, and I could hear several of the customers waiting in line loudly express their displeasure at my immediate entrance. Jett ignored them, and so did I, as I waltzed into the club, my head held high.

Though, the outside of the club is drab, the inside is anything but. The ceiling is lined with blue neon tube lights, as is the glass counter top of the bar, and the round tables that circle the dance floor. Rainbow colored tube lights also snake through the clear tile of the floor. Though, how they accomplished that, I have no clue. The walls are black, and the carpeted areas near the booth seats are splattered with glow in the dark paint. Black lights spaced throughout the area help add to the ambiance. There is a medium sized stage set up at the south end, near the bathrooms and storage closet. Instruments were already set up for the band. I scanned the crowd on the dance floor, the people crowded at the bar, and the ones stowed into booths, looking for a familiar face. Marie was not present. Though, I had not lied about her working as a bartender, I had conveniently forgot to mention to Abel that she did not work on weekends.

As I pushed my way towards the bar, I kept my eyes open for a friendly face. I took a seat at the end, and waved for the bartenders attention. I recognized her immediately, she was a baby vampire named Charlotte. She finished mixing a drink, slid it towards the waiting customer and turned her attentions towards me.

"What'll you have Alice?" She said in her thick southern accent, her fangs poking from between her lips. Young vampires often have a hard time hiding their fangs when they speak. Though, from what I've been told, it gets easier over time.

Charlotte is pretty, and she dresses the part of modern goth vampire. She's short, standing at about five foot one, with a round face and big gray, kohl rimmed eyes. Today she was dressed in a pleated plaid skirt, black mesh tank top, black thigh high boots and fishnet hose. Her dark brown hair was streaked with bright pink, and tied with red ribbons into pigtails.

I thought about it momentarily. "I'll have a blue heaven." My preference for mixed drinks is sweet and tropical.

Charlotte nodded, her pigtails bouncing. "So did you come to see the band?" She asked, as she grabbed a cocktail shaker from beneath the bar.

I nodded. "Do you know when they are going to start?"

She checked her plastic watch, a pink number with black skulls and red hearts, "in about fifteen minutes. But they headed backstage a few minutes ago to prep for the show. Ash is in a mood, as usual." I saw her roll her eyes at the declaration. She filled the shaker with ice, and then proceeded to add the liquor.

"When is Ash never not in a mood?" I asked fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "What is it this time? Someone stand too close to her or something?"

Like me, Ashlynn Summers, or Ash as she likes to be called, is a bonded human. She also happens to be the singer of Scarlet Angel, and one of the most annoying humans in existence. Spoiled, and self-centered, she is notorious for her easily triggered temper tantrums, and holier-than-thou attitude. Her one redeeming quality is that she has an amazing singing voice. Without that, I imagine she would have been chucked out of their band a long time ago.

Charlotte shrugged. "I don't know. Something about one of the bartenders not making her drink properly. Honestly, the little bitch is such a prima donna. I mean, I know she has this incredible voice and all, but I really don't see how they can put up with her, I really don't. If it was up to me, I would have drained the stupid little brat dry a long time ago." She topped my now ready drink off with a wedge of pineapple, and placed it in front of me with a black square napkin.

"I know what you mean," I said as I grabbed the cocktail glass, "but alas, Nanette wouldn't take to kindly with that. And I really wouldn't want to get on her bad side." Nanette is Ash's vampire master.

"That's true," she relented with a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't see how she puts up with her either. I swear, she must have been a saint in a previous life or something."

I giggled as I took a sip of the delicious fruity drink. "You know what, Abel actually told me that she was a nun before she was turned."

"Really?" Her eyes went wide with shock. "You're jerking me around?!"

I shook my head, "scouts honor."

"But why would a nun want to be turned into a vampire?" She asked curiously.

"From what Abel told me, it wasn't really her choice. It was forced upon her as a cruel joke. The story goes, that as a person, she had thought vampires were cruel and evil, and led many crusades against them. Her maker thought it would be funny to turn her into the thing she hated the most."

"Damn," she said with a tsk. "That's a fucking cruel joke."

I nodded in agreeance. "Yep. No offense or anything, but a lot of you guys are dicks."

"None taken. And no offense to you, but a lot of you humans are yummy."

I raised my glass to her. "None taken."

She laughed, a deep throaty laugh, flashing even more of her fangs.

"Excuse me bartender!" A man several seats down snapped at her. "I need a refill here!"

Charlotte rolled her eyes and said in her usual chipper tone, "be right there sir." She looked at me and mumbled under her breath, "that guy is such a jerk. I hope someone rips his throat out before my shift is over." With those words, she turned and left.

I grabbed my drink, and napkin and headed towards the booths, searching for an empty place to sit before the show started. I found an empty spot directly across from the stage, an overly excited vampire couple ravishing each other on one side of me, and an equally over excited human peeping on them from the other side. The vampire couple looked oddly mismatched. He was tall with spiky blonde hair wearing khaki shorts, and a Hawaiian print shirt. She was short, and curvy with fire engine red hair and bright blue eyes, wearing nothing but a leather bustier and a tiny mini skirt.

Their creeper didn't look like Ragnarok material. In fact, he looked more library, and pencil protector type. His dark hair was tussled with that I just rolled out of bed look and he was wearing dark slacks, a while polo shirt and thick coke bottle glasses covered his large dark eyes. From my estimation, he looked early to mid twenties.

His drink untouched in front of him, all his attention was focused on the vampire couple. Drool dripping down his chin. Pervert. I put my drink down on the table, and scooted into the booth, placing my back against the wall, and my purse down by my feet, wrapping the strap around my ankle. There are no thefts in the club, but old habits are hard to break.

As I waited for Scarlet Angel to take the stage, I scanned the crowd around me. Couples were grinding on the dance floor, bodies pressed together as they swayed to music only they could hear. Several vampires were already feeding on willing humans. One such pairing was sitting close enough to me that I could hear the pleasured moans of the human being bitten.

One of the little known facts of vampire bites is that they are orgasmic for humans. They can also be addictive, and highly dangerous for the simple fact that a human can be so enthralled with pleasure, they'll let the vampire drain every last drop of blood from their body.

For this reason, Abel has always refused to drink from me directly. However, in order to keep our bond strong, it is necessary for him to ingest my blood, and me his. Though I take his through blood draws, and he takes mine diluted in wine. In the old days when that wasn't possible, we used knives to spill my blood. Luckily for me, vampire saliva also has instantaneous healing properties. It's why I don't bear any scars from the bloodlettings.

By the time Scarlet Angel took the stage, the human had already orgasmed twice, the couple next to me was practically naked, and I'd downed three more blue heavens, the alcohol singing in my veins. The lights dimmed, the noise quieted and one by one they took the stage.

Chapter Three

First came Ash, her mahogany brown hair shaped into a bun at the nape of her neck. She was dressed in a short black lace dress and spiked high heel shoes. Ash, despite her off putting personality, is a very attractive girl. Though, her looks are more girl next door than aspiring rock star.

She has extremely large brown eyes, caramel colored skin and a wiry figure. Her round face, and bow shaped lips make her appear childlike, and surprisingly innocent. She hopped up on the stage, and took her place in front of the microphone, several of the males whistling their approval as she flashed her purple cotton underwear to the crowd. Unable to help myself, I rolled my eyes. Ash adores attention. In fact, I have no doubt that if it had any nutritional value, she'd probably live off a steady diet of it.

Next came the drummer, Akio. Akio is a tall Asian of Japanese descent, he's also a vampire. He'd been turned a little over fifty years ago, at sixteen, leaving him forever frozen in time at the awkward phase of not a child, and not quite yet a man. Akio is tall, and thin with chocolate brown eyes and spiked black hair. He was dressed all in black, black pants, black boots, and a black short sleeved shirt with the bands logo on the front. Out of all the members, I know the least about him. He is very private, and very reclusive. He took his place at the drums, and scanned over the crowd.

The pianist, Angelique or Angel, also a bonded human followed Akio. Angel is tall, blonde and voluptuous. Standing at nearly six feet, she is the tallest girl I know. She sauntered her way up to the stage dressed in a tight leather dress that hugged her body like a second skin, and left her overly large cleavage nearly busting out of the v-neck collar. Her platinum blonde hair was let loose to hang down her back, several black strands braided and left to frame her face. Angel is model material. She has high cheekbones, milk white skin, full lips to rival my own, and beautiful moss green eyes.

Her makeup was done in her usual style, kohl rimmed eyes, heavy black eye shadow, and ruby red lips. Angel is a good friend of mine, I've known her for several years. She also happens to be my favorite shopping companion. She leapt up onto the stage and took her place in front of her keyboards.

Lastly came my favorite member of Scarlet Angel, a vampire I had been in lust with for several years, the guitarist Rémy. He was dressed in black leather pants, black boots, and a button down long sleeve black shirt, the top bottoms left undone to show off his pale chest, and a patch of curly dark chest hair.

I could see his muscles flex beneath the silky material of his shirt, and his leather jeans hugged everything in the front and back, not leaving much to the imagination. He has straight, shoulder length, silky black hair, the customary pale luminescent vampire skin, and a constant five o'clock shadow. His strong jaw line is only accentuated by his dark stubble. Piercing blue-gray eyes top off the package nicely. Standing at six foot five, he is taller than Abel, and mostly everyone I know. He's not to beefy, and not to lean. Just the right amount of muscle, and fat. Though, my favorite part of him would have to be his lips. Pouty, kissable, lickable.

Rémy, no pun intended, is drop dead gorgeous, and he's stared in my daytime fantasies more than once. Thankfully, Abel hasn't dropped in on any of those yet. I've known Rémy for a while, we are pretty good friends, and we'll have drinks on occasion. Well, he drinks, I mainly just eye strip him the whole time. Like Ash is a notorious bitch, Rémy is a notorious flirt. If you don't see him surrounded by women, he's probably dead to the world, or the last man standing on earth. The guy has more groupies than I have items of clothing. He's also probably got more notches on his bed post than a dictionary has words.

After Rémy had taken his place, they fine tuned their instruments and started their set.

If you asked me to describe their sound, I'd have to say it's classical goth rock. Akio pounded on the drums, while Rémy wailed on his guitar, Angel's fingers glided effortlessly over the keyboard, and the sound of Ash's raspy voice filled the club. Most of the people at the booths, and tables had moved to the dance floor, and were now dancing and swaying to the music, grinding their bodies together in unison with the rhythm of the music. The tune was catchy, and I found myself nodding my head.

Though, I was far more interested in watching Rémy, his long fingers strumming the strings of his guitar. I watched him, fascinated by his movements as I sipped my drink. He kept his eyes closed, as he rocked back and forth. Despite the fact that I have seen the band numerous times, I don't really know any of the lyrics to their songs. The first song ended, my eyes still glued to Rémy, and Angel announced the second song, Requiem.

They were only a few minutes into the song when I noticed something peculiar in the periphery of my vision. My eyes snapped to the dance floor, and my heart nearly leapt from my throat. A vampire was gorging himself on a female, a young teenage girl from the look of it, blood dripping down her neck, and soaking her white cotton shirt. She wasn't moving, her skin chalk white, her arms hanging limply at her sides. The vampire, a wild-haired older looking gentleman held her up by her neck, her feet dangling in the air, as he sucked greedily at her neck.

The next few events happened so fast, that I barely had time to register all of them. A girl on the dance floor screamed, the sound ringing in my ears. The music died, and others joined in, screaming and rushing from the dance floor towards the door of the club, tripping over one another as they scrambled to get away from the vampire and his victim. I saw a blur of color, and Rémy appeared next to the feasting vampire, his eyes blazing with fury and the unmistakable look of blood lust.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

If someone didn't get the situation under control soon, there would be a feeding frenzy. And though, I was unable to tear my eyes away from Rémy, I could see other vampires inching closer and closer to him and the bleeding girl, their fangs extended as they licked their lips. In the thrall of blood lust, young vampires and those with poor self-control, have a hard time differentiating between friend and foe.

They will attack indiscriminately, biting, ripping, clawing.

A vampire in blood lust is one of the most dangerous beings alive. The scent of blood lures them, and ensnares them. If this indeed turned into a feeding frenzy, every human in the bar was fair game, including myself.

Rémy's hand shot out, and he grabbed the feeding vampire by the back of his neck, and with a sickening crunch that I'll never forget, he ripped his spinal cord from his body. My mind was unable to process what I was seeing.

Blood, lots of blood, chunks of flesh and bone littered the dance floor, as the vampires body fell to the ground. Rémy caught the human before she hit the ground. "Akio, you and Angel take her somewhere safe, the storage room maybe. Lock yourselves in if necessary." The two complied without protest. Akio appeared next to Rémy in a blur of movement, and took the girl in his arms.

"You smell good, little human."

My head turned towards the sound of the voice, and I had to stifle a slight gasp of surprise. The vampire couple that had been sitting next to me, was now looking at me with hungry eyes. My heart thudded loudly in my chest.

My body was frozen in terror, while my mind was screaming at me to take action. If I panicked, I was done for.

My only hope was the can of mace in my purse.

"Believe you me," I said, my voice shaky, "if you lay a finger on me, you will regret it with every fiber of your dead being."

The male smiled, and I stared at him with defiant eyes. An ear shattering scream rang through the club, giving me the distraction I needed. When the two vampires turned their heads to the sound of the scream, I slid down the seat, and fell to my knees under the table. I grabbed at my purse, trying to untangle it from around my ankle, as I silently cursed myself for my fear of being robbed. Tears stung at my eyes as I fumbled in the front pocket of my purse looking for the spray can. I felt my hand close around the cool metal, as I saw the table being lifted from the ground, and thrown across the room. My mind barely had time to register duck before a hand shot out and grabbed me by the throat.

Fear paralyzed me, but I managed to keep hold of the can in my hand. The male vampire held me in his vice like grip, his fingers digging into the delicate skin of my neck. I choked for breath, as his hand crushed my windpipe. He bared his fangs at me, hissing as his lover cackled beside him.

I only had a moment to act.

Without waiting for a better opportunity to present itself, I fumbled with the spray canister, placing my index finger on the squirt trigger. I raised it to his face, and pressed down hard. I sprayed inside his mouth, his nose, and his eyes. The effect was almost instantaneous. His skin sizzled, and smoked wherever the holy water touched him. He let out a low guttural scream as he tossed me aside like a rag doll. I hit the wall hard, knocking the air from my lungs, and I crumpled to the ground.

Pain blossomed in the back of my head, pinpoints of light dancing in my vision, temporarily blinding me. I blinked several times. My throat burned as my lungs tried desperately to take in air. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I had to swallow the bile that rose in my throat. I would not be sick all over myself. I would not. Blackness began creeping in around the edges of my vision, and I fell into nothingness.

"Alice!? Alice?"

My head was throbbing something fierce, and I felt like I was swimming through a thick fog.

"Alice? Are you okay?"

"What happened?" My voice was hoarse, it felt like someone had shoved a cheese grater down my throat.

"Thank god you're okay! I thought for sure we'd have to take you to the hospital!"

I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the brightness of the light. Angel's face slowly came into focus, her eyes wide with fear, her hair plastered to her forehead, sweat dripping down her face. I swallowed the spit pooling in my mouth, and nearly choked on it from the pain.

"Careful," Angel soothed. "That guy did a pretty good number on your throat. I'm surprised you can still even speak."

"S'going on?" I asked, trying to speak as little as possible.

She sighed. "Well, the frenzy was contained, but Annabelle had to call in the protectorate. Several humans were killed, one of them bonded. A couple of vampires had to be put down, the couple that attacked you was among them. Rémy pretty much ripped them apart after he saw that they attacked you. Not a pretty sight, I can tell you that. Some of the vampires are still in blood lust, so they are chained up in the basement. The club is pretty much trashed, and Annabelle is in a rage. The protectorate is going to be pissed."

Mind still foggy from the throbbing pain in my head, I could only pick up bits and pieces of what she was saying. I did, however, hear protectorate. And if the protectorate knew, that meant Abel was on his way.

"My head hurts," I said. Understatement of the year.

"I can imagine. From what I heard, you hit the wall pretty hard. Rémy said he healed as many of your wounds as he could, but you're going to have to ingest some of Abel's blood as soon as possible. Rémy thinks you probably have a concussion, and your throat is bruised pretty bad."

Curiosity winning out, I decided to chance sitting up. "Help me sit?" I asked Angel.

She nodded. "Yeah, sure."

I sat up slowly and I felt Angel's hands on my back pushing me into a sitting position.

The world spun.

I closed my eyes and waited for the nausea to pass. When it did, I opened my eyes and looked around. Tables and chairs were strewn across the blood splattered dance floor. Broken glass, and splintered pieces of wood and metal littered the floor. Blood was smeared across the walls, and over half of the liquor bottles on the cabinets behind the bar were smashed. No wonder Annabelle was pissed. Several sobbing girls were huddled around the body of a dead girl, their make-up smeared and their clothes stained with blood. Others were huddled into corners, some sitting on the floor. Though, they all shared one similar feature, they all had shell shocked looks on their faces.

"It's horrible isn't it?" I heard Angel whisper.

I nodded, unable to find the words to speak. I looked to my left, the remaining sane vampires were all convened on the stage. They were huddled together in a circle, speaking in rushed tones. I could barely make out what they were saying over the hysterical crying of the girls next to us. I stared at them, trying to make out their conversation, but to no avail. Rémy looked up, and his eyes met mine. He smiled, jumped off the stage, and walked towards us. His black shirt was shredded, and there was dried blood on his exposed skin. His fangs were elongated, but his face was clean of any blood.

He stopped, and crouched down in front of us. "Are you okay, Alice?" He asked.

Rémy is French, though his accent is very watered down, and hardly noticeable. But you can hear it sometimes when he says certain words or syllables.

"Could be worse," I croaked, my throat still throbbing.

He smirked. "That little can of yours is quite the ingenious invention. I didn't know they made that sort of thing. Holy water in a mace can. Brilliant. It saved your life, you know. If that vampire hadn't been raising such an awful commotion, I never would have seen you. Lucky you, no? Had I been any slower, that bitch of his would have torn you to shreds."

"Thank you," I replied, still trying to process my thoughts. Had the female vampire tried to attack me while I'd been unconscious? I felt my heart speed up in my chest. Just exactly how close had I come to dying?

Rémy must have heard it because he reached over and patted me on the arm. "No worries though, kitten. I handled it. Even took care of those little booboos of yours." Kitten is his pet name for me. He'd given it to me when I'd first met him, said I reminded him of a kitten he once had. I had wanted to ask him if the kitten had been pet or dinner, then I had thought better of it. Did I really want to know?

Booboos? "What?"

"Had a gash on the back of your head, a nasty cut on your forearm. Nothing I can do about your throat though, not without feeding you a Rémy blood cocktail. . . I doubt Abel would appreciate that."

Next to me I heard Angel snort. "I also doubt that he'd appreciate you licking her up like a human flavored lollipop."

Lick me up? Oh god. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks. He'd licked my wounds healed. "Th-thanks."

He gave me a lopsided grin, flashing his fangs. "No problem, kitten. It was my pleasure." And with that, he got to his feet, spun around and walked back towards the stage.

I groaned my embarrassment. I didn't know whether to be offended that he'd tongue washed me in my sleep, or pissed because he hadn't waited till I'd been awake.

Angel giggled. "I know you're injured and I shouldn't be teasing you, but damn . . . You have the worst luck ever, getting tongued by Rémy and you weren't even awake to experience it."

I heard the doors to the club open, and I turned to see a group of vampires swarm into the building.

Abel, at the forefront. He scanned the carnage around him, and then his eyes fell on me. He was in front of me faster than I could blink. Relief washed over me like a tidal wave.

"Alice," his voice sounded shaken. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. "I'm okay."

He let out a deep sigh, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me into a tight embrace, kissing me on the forehead. Finally, after everything that had happened, I felt safe. As long as I was in Abel's arms, nothing or no one could hurt me.

Chapter Four

To speed up the healing process, Annabelle set me up with an IV drip of Abel's blood. It was working quickly, my headache had pretty much gone, and my throat was only a little sore.

"So what do you think they'll do with the ones downstairs?" Angel asked.

"The hell if I know," I said with a shrug. "And quite honestly, I could care less."

We were both at the bar, Angel sitting Indian style on it, a bottle of half empty tequila next to her and me sitting on one of the few remaining intact bar stools, the IV stand stood next to me, and an empty glass in one hand. We'd been nursing the bottle of tequila for a little over half an hour. After everything that had happened, we both figured we deserved a drink . . or ten.

The protectorate had arrived, and sorted everything out. Annabelle raving on and on about reparations for the damage to her club, while Ash was throwing a tantrum to anyone who would listen. Which, was nobody. All the while Rémy flirted with any female that was still walking and talking. I recognized a few of the vampires that had arrived with Abel's entourage: Katerina, Luke, Camille, Samuel and Gabriel to name a few. In a situation like this, the protectorates job is to determine who is guilty of breaking the laws they imposed on the vampire community, and punish them accordingly. Killing a bonded human is one of the most grievous offenses. As is taking the life of another vampire.

Rémy, as he was defending the humans, bonded and alike, had been cleared of all charges. As were the other vampires that had defended the patrons of the bar. Though, they were deadlocked on what to do about the chained vampires in the basement. Half of them wanted to let them go, they argued that even the most stoic of vampires can get caught up in blood lust. The other half were refuting that if they could not control their blood lust, they shouldn't have been in a club that catered to both human and vampire, and should be punished for the carelessness. I agreed with the punishing group. Abel did, as well. The protectorate had convened in one of the storage closets, and Abel though, he's never technically been a member, went with them. Despite the fact that he was never inducted, he's always had an influential hand in everything they do.

The protectorate is ruled by a single person, a vampire by the name of Wilhelm. Personally, I've never met him. But he and Abel seem to be close, and over the years he's placed a lot of trust in Abel's judgment.

"This has been an absolute fucking mess," Angel declared suddenly, her voice shrill. "I talked to Viv on the phone, and she's already talking about keeping me under house arrest for the rest of my life. I'm surprised I managed to convince her not to come storming down here to chew Anna's ass off."

I grabbed the bottle of tequila and topped of my glass. Vivienne or Viv, as Angel likes to call her is Angel's vampire master, and also her lover. "I'm sure you'd find something to do under house arrest," I said as I took a sip of my drink. It warmed my insides, burning my throat. "Besides, at least, you are still alive to bitch about it."

She sighed. "Yeah, that's true. I mean, did you see that guy? I wonder if that's what its like for all vampires who lose their humans."

I let out a deep sigh, instantly sobering at the thought. "It was pretty horrible, wasn't it?"

The vampire master of the bonded human that had been killed had arrived about an hour after all the commotion had been cleared. The moment he had seen her lifeless body, he had went into a blind rage. I'd never seen a vampire cry so many blood tears in my life. The protectorate had managed to restrain him, then Gabriel had led him out of the club, and I'm assuming, took him home.

There is a very deep connection between a bonded human and vampire.

Strong.

Unyielding.

Breakable only by death.

Vampires are also very selective about who they bond with. People they knew and trusted in life, or people they love above all else. I'd spent over ten years with Abel before he had decided on bonding with me.

A vampire will protect his bonded human like he does his resting place, ferociously and without remorse. They consider the human as part of themselves, separate but one.

There are benefits of bonding for both human and vampire. From the bond, vampires gain human emotion. A little known fact is when vampires are turned, they keep most of their human emotions and memories.

Essentially, they retain their identity. However, the older they get, the more they lose touch with what made them human. The emotions, the memories, all start to fade and they become empty husks, unable to feel anything except the blood lust. Those vampires, the old ones that kill indiscriminately, are usually hunted down and killed by the protectorate. Being bonded saves the vampire from that fate. For the humans, the pros are far more beneficial. Vampiric immortality without the blood cravings and sunlight aversion. Well, not true immortality. It is possible to kill a bonded human. And though we are immune to old age, disease and infection, the list of things that can kill us is far longer than the list of things that can kill a vampire. We aren't granted any superhuman powers like the vampires have, we don't have super strength or cat-like hearing or anything, we are just plain old frail humans with a very, very long life-span.

Also, to keep the bond strong, every so often a vampire has to exchange blood with their human. If for some reason, blood exchange is impossible, the human will die. And not slowly either. When all of the vampire blood has been cleansed from their system, the human will begin aging. The older the human, the faster they age and die. I'd once seen a bonded human go from twenty to sixty in a matter of weeks after their vampire had been beheaded. However, the same does not stand true for the vampires. If a vampires human is killed, they can go on living (so to speak). Even bond with another human if that's what they fancy.

When Abel had first introduced the concept to me, I had been terrified. The thought of eternal life had scared me. My first thoughts had been, what would God think? Or even my parents? I'd thought that if I accepted his offer, I would be committing a grievous sin, one that God would never forgive me for.

But the more I thought about it, the more it felt like the right thing to do. After all, if vampires were such an abomination, surely they wouldn't be allowed to exist? And why would God, as knowing and loving as he is, deny someone like Abel the chance to save his humanity?

Not to mention, I couldn't stand the thought of parting with him, even in death. Bonding with Abel had been the most important decision I'd ever made in my life. And it is one that I do not regret to this day. He is more than my vampire master, he is my father, my brother, my best friend, my protector, my soul-mate. He'd noticed me when the whole world had ignored my pain, and cast me aside like a broken doll. He took me in, gave me a roof over my head, food in my belly and a place to call home. He gave me love, acceptance and guidance. He gave me the family that I had so desperately desired after my parents death. He had saved me from my pain. I would gladly lay down my life for his any day, no questions asked. Are all vampire/human bondings like ours? Honestly, I have no clue. But I do know this, if I hadn't of met Abel that day at the river, my life would have been very short and very tragic.

"You know," Angel said suddenly, shaking me from my thoughts, "I wonder what would happen to the vampire population if they didn't have us. Bonded humans, I mean."

I thought about it. "I don't know. Don't think I want to either."

"Yeah," she paused, and I saw her take another huge gulp of tequila. "I'd hate to think of Viv without me, you know? She can be a little eccentric at times, and hard to handle but she's my whole world. I love her more than anything."

Funny, I had been thinking pretty much the exact same thing. "I know what you mean. But thankfully," I said raising my glass, "we are here, and so are they."

She smiled, and we raised our tequila in a toast. "To us," we said in unison.

I threw back my head, and finished off my glass in one fell swoop.

"You girls aren't drinking without me, are you?" I turned to see Rémy walking towards us, his arms folded over his chest. He had changed his clothes, swapping out leather and silk for blue jeans and black cotton.

"So what's the verdict?" Angel asked as Rémy swiped the bottle from her.

"They are still undecided, so they called Wilhelm. They are waiting for his verdict now, but apparently he's not answering." He shrugged, "sometimes democracy is a bitch." He raised the bottle to his lips, and finished it off in a matter of seconds.

"Do either of you know what happened to Charlotte?" I suddenly remembered that I hadn't see her since before the incident. I felt horrible for not thinking about her before.

There was a momentary silence, both of them sifting through their memories. "Come to think of it," Angel replied. "I haven't. I saw her when we were playing, but I just sort of lost track of her after the shit hit the fan. Haven't seen her since."

Rémy frowned, and his eyebrows furrowed. "I haven't seen her either, she isn't part of the bunch down stairs, and I know she wasn't one of the vampires that had to be taken down."

I sighed. Strange. "Oh well, maybe she couldn't stand the blood and booked it? We'll probably hear from her sooner or later."

Rémy nodded. "I suppose." He set the bottle down on the bar, and then turned and walked back towards the storage closet, "you two have fun, and try not to do anything I wouldn't do . . Or if you do, don't do it without me." He disappeared through the door next to the stage. He'd acted nonchalant about the whole thing, but I had seen a flicker of something in his eyes before he had left. What it was though, I had no clue.

"I'm sure she's okay. She's a tough girl, and she wouldn't get herself into trouble." Angel declared. Though, she sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than she was me.

I reached over and gave her a gentle pat on the arm. "Yeah, I'm sure she's fine. She'll probably come waltzing in when the place opens back up, talking about how she single handedly saved the day."

Angel giggled, but it was uneasy. "She does like to spin tall tales, doesn't she?"

I nodded. "We have nothing to worry about. I'm sure by the end of the week everything will have gone back to normal and we can all go back to our regular lives."

Chapter Five

"Didn't I tell you, there is nothing like shopping therapy to cure all that ails you." Angel spun around in the ensemble she had picked out, a spaghetti strap zebra print dress with gold gladiator sandals. On me the dress had nearly swept the floor, on her it was just under the knee.

"You did say that sexy mama, but I still think we need to do some more testing. What about hitting up Gloria's Accessories? I need something to go with this dress." The outfit I had settled on had been an olive green shirt dress with quarter sleeves that stopped just above my knees. I partnered it with black suede knee high boots.

She gave one last twirl in the dress, "yeah okay, sounds good. Viv loves jewelry and she'd kill me if I didn't bring her anything back. You know how she gets."

Vivienne is one of a kind. She is a vampire with agoraphobia. Honestly, I don't know how she's lived so long with the fear, without it driving her completely gaga. Though, I imagine Angel has something to do with her not going completely off the deep end.

We gathered up our things, and headed to the checkout counter. Angel rang up first, and then I did. Both of our outfits came to a little over a hundred dollars. We left the clothing store, and headed back into the mall. All around us we could hear the hustle and bustle of a busy shopping weekend. Children screaming, elevator music playing on the loud speakers and hundreds of voices mingled together in endless chatter...

"You know its weird," Angel said suddenly, as we began walking towards the accessory store. "I heard Viv talking to someone on the phone earlier, and she was saying that several bonded humans have gone missing."

"I heard Abel talking about it also, I think he was talking to Wilhelm. He wouldn't tell me anything about it though, just that I had nothing to worry about, and that the protectorate would handle it." I brushed several stray bangs from my eyes with my free hand. "Of course, that made me worry all the more. I mean, don't you think that's a little creepy? All this stuff happening just a week after that blood bath at Ragnarok, and with Charlotte still missing and all . . . Well it's hard not to think the worst."

"I know what you mean. Viv is having a right freak-out attack. She's acting even worse than usual. Hell, she won't even let me go out on the terrace at night unless she's looking over my shoulder."

"Well, at least it's easy to sneak out with them." I said and then added, "had to do some serious stealthing to get past Etienne, though. I swear, I think that wolf can read my mind sometimes."

She giggled. "I seriously didn't think you'd come. Abel's got you wrapped around his pretty long finger."

I groaned. I hated lying to Abel, but he'd been practically keeping me under house arrest ever since news of the missing bound humans had popped up. "Don't remind me. I feel so guilty. But I'm going stir crazy in that house! And besides, what can go wrong? We're out in the open, surrounded by thousands of people. Plus, Abel says that Wilhelm thinks vampires are responsible for the disappearances, so we have absolutely nothing to worry about." Right, nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Exactly!" Angel chimed in, her voice ten octaves more chipper. "And really, it's cruel and immoral to keep me from shopping. I need retail therapy to keep me sane, and healthy. Plus, me looking good does the world a favor. They have something beautiful to look at. So really, it's like I'm performing a charity service."

I laughed. "Vain, much?"

"Not vanity if it's true, Al."

We passed by a cookie kiosk, and I felt my mouth water. I'd been so busy planning my escape that morning that I had forgotten to eat. "You hungry?" I asked Angel. Please say yes, please say yes.

"Famished," she answered. "I thought you'd never ask. Lets head to the food court after we hit Gloria's."

We passed other clothing stores, pushing our way through the hordes of shoppers, and up the escalators. Gloria's was next to Victoria's Secret, and to my surprise, Angel just passed it over with an interested hmph at the store display of pink lacy panties. We parted ways in the store, each headed in opposite directions. I headed towards a display of glasses first, a pair of gold plated aviator sunglasses catching my eye. I grabbed them without a second thought. While I perused through the hair items, my mind wandered to thoughts of everything that had happened the last two weeks. The events at Ragnarok, the dead vampires, the missing bound humans. They had to be connected somehow. It couldn't just be a coincidence, all of these events happening so close together.

Or maybe it was?

Maybe the killings at the club had just been a horrible accident? And maybe the bonded humans had just run off together? Gone on an out of town trip or something? Or maybe something bad was happening?

Gah! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

I shook the questions from my head. Speculating on things wasn't going to get me anywhere. I browsed through a small display case of hair accessories. I grabbed a glittered double headband, several stacks of elastic ponytail holders and headed to find Angel. A flash of movement outside of the store caught my attention as I emerged from the display cases. A man dressed in blue jeans, and a buttoned denim jacket was standing in front of the store, his cell phone held out directly in front of him. He was wearing dark shades, and a beat up baseball cap, dark curls peeking from under the brim. I stared at him, curious as to what he was looking at. Noticing me, he looked over from his cellphone. His gaze caught mine momentarily, and I felt a weird feeling of deja-vu sweep over me. He looked familiar. I was about to approach him, and ask for his name,, but before I could take a step, he flipped his phone closed, shoved it in his pocket and disappeared into the crowd. Strange. With a shrug, I headed to find Angel. We finished our shopping, and then put on our new trinkets.

"I think someone was watching us in the store," I told her as we headed to the food court.

"Watching us?" She stopped walking and turned to look at me, "what do you mean?"

I stopped, and switched my shopping bags from my left to my right hand. "Well, he was standing outside with his cell phone, it sort of looked like he was taking pictures or shooting a video. When he saw that I was looking at him, he left."

Angel sighed, and patted me on the shoulder with her free hand. "I think you are getting paranoid."

With a giggle, she turned on her heel, and continued on her way.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I was getting paranoid.

I let out a frustrated sigh, and jogged after her. Despite the fact that I agreed with her paranoid statement, I still couldn't help but scan the throngs of people around us as we headed to the food court, my eyes instantly drawn to any flash of denim.

We reached the food court, and the mingling scents of so many different mouthwatering smells shot away any thoughts of would be stalkers. A little over twenty restaurants lined the north and east walls, ranging from Chinese to Cajun from Italian to American. Numerous round tables were set up in front of them, and grey trashcans were set up sporadically around the area. Most of them were overflowing with trash. Several feet from the tables a small indoor playground was set up for the smaller children, benches set up around it for parental supervision.

"Split up and meet back at one of the tables?" Angel asked.

I nodded, and again we parted ways, Angel heading towards the Italian food place, Angelo's. I scanned the restaurants, trying to see what place struck my fancy. Finally, I decided on a little Cajun place, Crawdaddy Corner. The line was long, so I killed time by reading the menu. Dirty rice, gumbo, boudain, crawfish ettouffe, red beans and rice. When my time came, I ordered a carton of dirty rice ala carte, a small bowl of gumbo and a large Coca-Cola. Angel was waiting for me at a table near the playground, she'd ordered a Chef Salad with all of the fixings, and a large glass of lemonade. I took my seat across from her, putting my bags and purse on the extra chair to my left.

Angel glanced up at me as I took my seat. "Did you seriously order all of that?" She asked as I put my food down in front of me, and took my seat.

"No, I rolled some random guy for his food. Of course, I ordered it." I opened the dirty rice, and greedily dug in. Spicy, and delicious.

She rolled her eyes, "I can't believe you are eating that stuff, or that soda. Do you know how fattening it is?"

"Do you know how delicious it is?"

She took a bite of her salad. "You know, immortality may keep you from having crows feet and saggy boobs, but it won't save you from thunder thighs."

"Hardy har har, Jenny Craig. Since when did you become such a calorie counter? I mean, last I checked, alcohol was the number one cause of beer belly, and you drink that like it's water."

"That's different," she argued. "Alcohol is good."

We continued our meal, making small talk while we ate. We talked about how we were both enjoying the spring weather, what we would shop for next, and the bands upcoming gig at a club called, Jokers.

"We've never played there before," Angel said excitedly. "It's supposed to be really big in the rock scene. Apparently, some really big names have played there." Because of their undead members, the protectorate would never allow Scarlet Angel's fame to really blossom. After all, one of their hardest jobs is keeping the human population ignorant of their existence.

"Have you see Rémy lately?" I asked her curiously.

She arched an eyebrow at me, a knowing smile on her face. "Looking for a hot night out?" Angel was one of the few people that knew about my ongoing lust for Rémy, and she never passed up a chance to tease me about it. Then again, what are friends for?

"No." I could feel my face turning red. "Yes. Shut up."

She laughed, her green eyes sparkling mischievously. "I really don't understand why you just don't ask him out. You and I both know he'd say yes in a heartbeat, and he'd say yes even faster to a wham bam thank you, ma'am."

I rolled my eyes, "and you and I both know that him saying no to pretty much any girl that throws herself at him is slim to none."

"That's true," she said with a grin." So what's stopping you from asking?"

"That is," I said, eager to make my point. "I don't want to be just a number. A good lay one day, and then pushed aside for someone else the night after."

"Aww, that's sweet Alice. So you want a steady relationship."

I nodded. "Yes. Abel is and always has been a good companion, but I want a relationship. I mean, damn, the last time I had a steady relationship with anyone was over five years ago. I miss that interaction."

She looked at me, eyes wide in wonder. "So you haven't had sex in over five years? Geez, how are you even still alive?"

"Shut up!" I tossed my empty soda can at her, and she swatted it away with her hand. It clattered to the floor, and rolled under a nearby table. "You don't have to announce it to everybody."

She laughed. "Come on, Alice. No one cares. But now I see why you are so cranky all the time." I let her finish her fit of laughter. When she was done she wiped several tears from her cheek. I sat staring at her, my face flushed with embarrassment and anger. "Come on, Al. Don't be mad. I didn't mean anything by it. You're just so easy to tease."

"You're horrible," I mumbled under my breath.

"I know," she said. "But you love me anyways."

That I couldn't deny. We finished eating, grabbed our belongings and tossed our trash into one of the trashcans. "Don't worry," she told me as I went and retrieved my soda from under the table, "I'll make it up to you. How about I set you guys up on a date next time I talk to him?"

"Really?" I asked excitedly as I tossed the bottle into the closest trashcan.

"Yeah," she handed me my bags, and we continued on our way. "I'll call him tonight, and see if he answers."

"You sure he doesn't have other plans? I mean, I haven't heard from him for several days."

She shrugged. "You know Rémy, he's probably shacked up with some chick."

"I'd like not to think about that." I said, a pang of jealousy flaring through me.

We spent the rest of the day shopping, a welcome distraction from everything that had been happening. I forgot about Rémy. I forgot about Abel, and the possible conspiracy theories that had been floating around in my head for the last week. It was fun to just get out, and have fun. I didn't see our possible stalker anymore, and that made me feel better.

Though, I still couldn't shake that odd feeling of deja-vu. I picked up more books, several new DVDs, and a new IPOD. By the days end, our arms were loaded with shopping bags, and we had to waddle out of the mall. Angel followed me to my car, and we parted ways, her promising me that she would call Rémy first thing. After I waved her goodbye, I stowed my newly acquired booty in the trunk, and walked around to open the drivers side door. A flash of blue fabric caught my eye, and I spun around to see my not so fictitious stalker standing several parking spaces away from me. Again, he was staring at me through the lens of his phone. Hands jittery, I unlocked the door, threw my purse into the passenger seat, and crawled into the car. I started the car, and then drove out of the parking lot as fast as I could, my stomach doing nervous somersaults. I didn't want to have to admit to Abel that I had snuck out against his wishes, but I couldn't not let him know about the creepy stalker. After all, what if it had something to do with what was happening?

But what if it didn't? What if I was just overreacting?

It's not like it would be the first time. I drove home, numerous questions chasing tail in my mind. I turned on the radio to distract me, but not even that worked. The main question, should I call Angel and tell her? I imagined the conversation going something like this, she'd tell me that I was overreacting, I'd agree, we'd laugh, she'd make a joke about my five year abstinence, I'd get pissed, she'd apologize and then we'd hang up. In the end, I decided I wouldn't tell her, but I'd still mention it to Abel. And as much as I didn't want to admit deceiving him, I didn't feel comfortable withholding information from him. Decision made, I drove home humming along to Love Shack.

Chapter Six

Abel sat on the couch, sipping blood from a glass cup as I sat on the coffee table directly in front of him. He watched me intently as I recalled the days events, beginning with Gloria's, and ending with my speeding escape from the parking lot. He listened patiently, nodding occasionally as I rambled off my several conspiracy theories to him. When I was finally finished, he just stared at me. It felt good getting it all off of my chest, but I also felt guilty because I knew I had disappointed him, I could see it in his eyes.

Finally, he spoke, his voice slow. "So you think that this man was following you?"

I nodded, thankful he hadn't rebuked me. "Angel said I was being paranoid, but what are the odds of the same thing happening twice? And even though I couldn't see his face, I know I recognized him. I know I did. Something weird is happening, Abel. I know there is. I have this feeling," I paused, trying to express how I felt in words. "I think something bad is happening. What happened at the club, and the missing humans. Something in my gut is telling me they are related." I couldn't explain it more, because I really didn't understand it myself.

He nodded, and then he leaned forward, his hair spilling over his shoulders. "I want you to hear me, Alice and this time, I want you to listen to what I tell you. I do not want you leaving this house again, not unless I am with you, and especially not in the daytime. Do you understand?"

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from his gaze, his blue eyes holding me in a trance. "I didn't want to have to tell you this, but I need to stress the importance of why what you did was a very dangerous thing." He paused, and then licked his lips, running his tongue over his elongated fangs as he did. "The protectorate does not think vampires kidnapped the bonded humans that have gone missing. Whoever is responsible was able to get to them during the daytime, when their vampires had gone to ground."

My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. So our brilliant plan of going out in the daytime thinking we'd be safe, had actually put us in more danger? Guilt twisted my stomach into knots. How could I have been so stupid and reckless? If I had gone out by myself, it would have been one thing, but what if I had inadvertently put Angel in danger, as well? I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to her.

Abel reached up, and lifted my chin with his free hand so that I was staring at him face to face. "Do you understand now why you cannot leave? Promise me that you will not."

I nodded. "I promise."

He leaned forward and as he kissed me on the cheek, I heard him mumble something indecipherable under his breath. When Abel gets upset, or angry, he reverts back to his native tongue.

What that is? I have no clue. His life before me remains a mystery. I don't know where he is from, who made him a vampire, or even how old he is. I'd asked him before, of course. But he would always just shrug me off, and tell me the past was the past. Eventually i'd learned to stop asking. Though my curiosity never abated.

Abel had me repeat the days events for him, making sure I went over every little detail, no matter how miniscule. He wracked my brain for every little detail, grilling me on the appearance of my baseball capped stalker. How tall he looked (maybe about six foot?), the clothes he was wearing (denim: denim jacket, green shirt and faded black baseball cap, no logo), his skin color (pale, a little darker than mine), what kind of phone he had (no clue), his hair (dark and curly) and any other little thing I could think of. When we were finally done, he dismissed me to my own devices, and disappeared into the basement with the house phone. I called Angel first thing to make sure she had gotten home already, she had. I also told her what Abel had told me, and instructed her to relay everything to Vivienne.

Naturally, she didn't want to.

However, given the gravity of the situation, I convinced her it would be for the best. She hung up with me, and I sat on my bed feeling useless and helpless. It annoyed me. To help keep my mind from swimming in circles, I decided on cleaning while Abel talked on the phone. I started with my bedroom, putting away my spoils from the shopping trip, and then proceeded to move the clothes from my bed into the closet. Halfway through, however, I became daunted by the monumental task, and headed down the stairs and into the kitchen to wash the few dishes in the sink, and start a load of laundry. The menial chore of cleaning had the desired effect of keeping my mind busy and worry free.

By the time Abel had finished his call, I had completely cleaned the kitchen, dining room, living room, main bathroom and folded and sorted the clothes in the dryer. Because there are no closets in the coffin room, Abel hangs his clothes in the closets of one of the guest bedrooms.

The moment he entered the room I could tell that something was not right. It wasn't that I could see emotion on his face, but more the fact that I couldn't. It was a complete blank. When he shows absolutely no emotion, something is wrong.

"What happened?" I asked him, almost too afraid to know the answer.

He walked over to the bar counter, and hung up the cordless on the receiver. "I do not want you to get upset," he told me, his voice careful, guarded. "And I also do no want this information to spread, but it is possible that Rémy has gone missing."

I sucked in a deep breath. Rémy missing? My Rémy? No it wasn't possible. It couldn't be. "I don't understand," I said slowly, unable to wrap my mind around the thought.

"He hasn't been seen in a few days, and he hasn't been to ground in his home. Wilhelm himself has checked several times."

My heart sped up in my chest. What if something bad had happened?

What if ...

No! I refused for my mind to give shape to the idea. Nothing bad could ever happen to Rémy, it was just that simple.

Abel must have seen the panic in my eyes because he added, "we are just being careful because of the situation, but I wouldn't worry to much if I were you. You know how he is, more than likely, he found a new conquest and is getting swept up in his victory. He'll probably show up in a few days, exuberant as always."

I nodded, hoping that was true. "You're right, you're right. Besides, if it is humans that are doing this, there is no way one of them could have taken down Rémy, that's just absurd."

"Yes, of course." Abel replied with a smile.

And thus began my house arrest. I'd like to say that I put my time to good use, that I learned something new, had some sort of epiphany or bettered myself in some way. But the truth is, it was just me killing time any way that I could. Reading was my main distraction, the others were television and cooking. The television also spurred another addiction, home shopping. I splurged on more clothes and shoes, home furnishings, jewelry and kitchen gadgetry (thankful that Abel and his many years of accumulated wealth was able to support my expensive tastes). We received a few visitors from the protectorate, and they would usually fill Abel and myself in on the situation at hand. Because the events indirectly involved me, I was allowed to sit when Abel conferred with them. Gabriel and Katerina were our main sources of information.

A little over a week, and our house was full of many new things. Several paintings that had tickled my fancy were hung in the living room and foyer. A new juicer and pasta maker on the counter, and a whole new set of plates and bowls in the cupboards. As a joke, I'd even ordered a new coffin shaped coffee table (with a liftable lid for storage space). Abel had gotten quite a laugh from it. I also bought new curtains, red wine velvet. They went perfect with the decor in the living room )black leather sofas, dark hardwood floors and dark sponge painted walls). I also bought more clothes for Abel, and a large coffee mug from the internet that read, 'I vant to suck your blood' with a picture of bloody cartoonish fangs on the front.

Charlotte had been found, and returned back to work. She'd bailed the moment the blood hit the floor, and stayed gone. To my dismay, Rémy remained missing. The protectorate had decided to launch a full on search for him, and another vampire, by the name of Sasha Valentine. A name i'd heard a few times in passing. Several more bound humans also went missing, and the vampire community was in a frenzy. Not that I could blame them. I spent many hours on the phone with Angel discussing our numerous theories on the matter. Zombies, super-powered humans, government testing, alien abduction.

Our theories ranged from wild to completely and totally bonkers.

Abel spent as much time with me as he could, but to my dismay, and great discomfort, he spent a lot of time out and about for the protectorate. Though, the times he was gone, there was always another vampire and Etienne guarding the house. When he left, I would find myself counting the hours till his return, the fear that he might not come back always at the forefront of my thoughts. I'd end up imagining different scenarios in my mind, all of them horrible and nail biting. He'd always find me a nervous basket case upon his return. To ease my fear, and to prevent any future gray hairs, he started carrying his cell phone with him so he could check in with me at regular intervals.

With raindrops battering the windows practically every night, April showers had started to take on a whole new meaning. If it wasn't raining, it was thunder storming, or on the verge of raining. Etienne, who like me, enjoys the rainy weather, could often be found running the forests on these days.

It was on one of these rainy days that I found myself staring wistfully out the window at the rain drenched forest. I was feeling particularly morose as Camile Saint Saens, Danse Macabre blared from the stereo (another of my recent purchases). A lot of thoughts were dancing around in my head as I waited for the sun to rise. Most of them concerning, Rémy. I was thinking about the night i'd seen him at the club, when Abel walked into the living room, dressed in his custom black pants and a long sleeved white shirt. His long hair tied back into a ponytail.

"Alice, are you okay?" He asked. I heard his soft footfalls as he approached me.

"I'm fine," I answered automatically. "Just thinking."

"I know this has been hard on you," he told me, his voice soft. "I apologize."

"It's not your fault."

There was a momentary silence, the music and the rainfall like static in my brain. Finally, Abel spoke. "Dance with me."

I turned to look at him. He was staring down at me with a content expression on his face, his hand extended to help me to my feet. I smiled, as I let him help me stand.

When I'd been a teenager, Abel had taught me how to waltz. It had been a long time since I'd last danced with him. He took my hand in his, and put his other hand on my hip while I placed mine on his arm. He led me gracefully through the spacious living room, dipping and twirling me on occasion. And despite my worries, I found myself lost in the dance.

"We'll figure this out," he told me. "I promise."

Abel is honest to a fault. One of the kindest vampires I know. I smiled at him, and leaned forward, laying my head on his shoulder. He smelt of laundry detergent, shampoo, and under that the scent of vampire. Sweet and earthy.

"If Rémy is anything, he is a survivor. Even as a human he was very. . . stubborn. I have no doubt that if anyone could come out of this unscathed, it is him."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know him, and I know how strong the will to survive can be. Rémy is a fighter, a survivor. Like you, he was born into harsh times and had to fight for what he had, he had to fight to survive."

I'd never heard either Rémy or Abel talk about their past before. Though, I knew from bits and pieces of conversation, that Abel had been close to him before he'd been turned. I had been curious as to the nature of their relationship, but I had never pried. It was none of my business.

Abel led, as we continued our slow dance.

"I'm scared, Abel," I admitted. "I'm scared of what's happening, what could be happening. And i'm worried about you. I'm worried that something might happen to you, and that you might not come back to me one night."

"You have nothing to fear, Alice. I will never leave you. Not even death can separate us."

I sighed, and he pulled me closer to him. "My dear, you know that there is nothing in my life as precious as you are. It would take an act of God himself to ever pry you from my side."

"You mean it?" His voice exuded confidence, but I was still weary.

"Have I ever lied to you?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No. Not ever."

"I would not start now." The music faded to silence, and we ended our dance.

We stood silent in the living room as Abel held me. Truthfully, I didn't want to leave the safety of his arms. I felt safe, and loved, and nothing else mattered. Abel has always made me feel like the most important person in the world. We've never been lovers, or anything near that sort of relationship. But what we have, it's deeper. More profound. Our relationship isn't really something that I can sum up in words, but I can say this with all certainty, Abel is my world.

"Dawn is approaching," he said suddenly, his voice oddly subdued. "You have almost always slept next to me, but it would make me feel immensely better if I could feel you curled up beside me this morning."

"Just let me finish cleaning, change into my pajamas and i'll climb in," I told him. "You know I don't like going to sleep when the house is dirty."

He gave a slight chuckle, "naturally." With one last tight squeeze, he released me from his hug. He brushed several stray bangs from my face with his hand, "come to bed soon." He turned on his heel and disappeared into the hallway.

I let out a deep breath, switched off the stereo and proceeded to finish cleaning. Not much was left to be done, just a few dishes to be washed, a load of laundry to be folded and put away, and a little tidying up. When I was finished, I bounded up the stairs, and into my bedroom. I sifted through my pajama drawer, and finally decided on a large white tee shirt, and polka-dotted boyshorts. There is no air and central heat connected to the basement, and though it usually stays very cool, it does tend to get quite warm sleeping in a coffin. To help keep myself cool, I tied my hair back into a ponytail before I headed back downstairs.

As I drew closed the living room curtains, I noticed that the sun was starting to rise over the eastern horizon. Abel was already undead to the world. For some reason the thought unnerved me. I went through the house closing all the curtains, and making sure all of the doors were locked. When I came to the kitchen, my eyes fell on a paper plate of crumbled up hamburger meat. For dinner I had made a hamburger soup, and saved the left-over hamburger meat for Etienne. He loves hamburger meat. Then again, he loves just about any meat. I unlocked the sliding glass door, opened it, and peeked my head outside to see if I could see him. He wasn't sitting on the porch. I placed my forefinger and thumb in my mouth, and whistled loudly for him. I turned, walked back into the kitchen and scooped the plate of meat into my hands. When I turned to walk back outside, I felt my heart plummet to my feet. A man was standing in the open doorway, dressed all in black, a dark ski mask covering his face. Fear gripped at my insides, my heart threatening to burst from my chest.

The plate of meat fell from my hands, and spilled onto the floor. My head was screaming at me to run, but my body refused to respond. He threw himself forward, and I screamed. Body finally responsive, I turned and threw open the drawer, grabbing the first knife I laid eyes on. My fingers wrapped around the handle, when I felt the man wrap his arms around my stomach and heave me into the air. Still screaming, I began kicking at him with my bare feet and slashing at his forearms with the knife. The harder I fought, the tighter he squeezed. Tears blurred my vision as I fought to free myself from the strangers vice-like grip. My feet kicked out, and I used all of the strength in my legs to push backwards on the cabinets in front of me. I heard the man let out a growl, as he tumbled backwards, and slammed into the counter behind him. I heard the sound of shattering glass a second before he threw me to the ground. I landed on my side, pain shooting through my arm. Gathering my wits, I rolled to my stomach and then nothing.

Chapter Seven

I flitted in and out of blackness, unable to hold onto consciousness for very long. I remember rushed voices, harsh and vulgar. Dim lighting, and black walls. I remember coarse material scratching against my skin. There were smells also: gasoline, dirt, mold and something else I couldn't quite place. In my short waking moments, pain and fear would consume me, and I would always sink back into nothingness with great relief.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

My eyes fluttered open, and I struggled through my hazy memories.

I'd been attacked.

Abel. Abel!

I shot to my feet, and the world swan around me. I sunk to my knees, my weak legs unable to support my body. I could feel the bile rising in my throat, and I had to fight not to be sick all over myself.

"You should move slowly," I heard a soft feminine voice say. "I think you hit your head pretty hard. You might have a concussion."

As I struggled with the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm me, I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. Concrete, dirt, metal bars. It took a minute for my mind to register what I was seeing. It looked like I was in some sort of prison. Fear bubbled to the surface, and my heart began thumping loudly in my chest.

Where was I? What was going to happen to me?

My eyes darted around nervously looking for any sign of my attacker, and the owner of the female voice. I only needed a single sweep across the room to memorize the simplistic layout. Cells lined the northern and eastern side of the walls, they were all small like mine, with metal bars, and dirt floors. At the southern end, two large metal doors were set into the wall, next to them a darkened stairwell leading up into blackness. There were chains and manacles affixed to the western wall, dried blood staining the concrete wall. Aside from my own, there were three other occupied cells. Two side by side on the eastern wall, both sleeping on the small cots. The owner of the voice was one cell down from mine. She was sitting on the ground, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Where are we?" I asked, my voice shaky.

She gave a small shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know. They never let us out of here."

Mind still whirling from the culmination of events that had happened, something inside clicked, and I felt myself reeling from panic. "You're bonded, aren't you?"

"We all are," she answered slowly.

I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself from the fear that was threatening to paralyze me. Abel at the forefront of my thoughts. Was he okay? Had my kidnapper gone back and attacked him while he slept? No. He couldn't have. Abel would have protected himself in his sleep. Abel was fine. He had to be.

Abel is fine. Abel is fine. I kept repeating the words over, and over in my head like a silent mantra. Hoping that the more I said them, the more truth the statement would hold. Besides, if anything ever happened to Abel, i'd be able to feel it, right? I'd know.

Abel is fine. Just concentrate on the situation at hand. Focus on getting out, and getting back to him.

"Who took us?" I asked, trying to affix my mind on my current predicament. "Do you know who they are?"

There was a momentary silence, and then she spoke slowly, "we don't know. All we know is that they are humans. Humans that hate vampires, and bonded humans. They never show their faces, and we only see them when they feed us, when they bring another of us down or when . . ." Her voice broke, and I could hear her sniffling back tears, "or when they feed them." There was no mistaking the fear in her choked voice. It was palpable, almost tangible.

Feed them? I didn't want to know, but I had to ask. "What do you mean, feed them?"

"Do you see those two metal doors over there?" She said, her voice still shaking, and laced with fear. "There are vampires in there, both of them. They are chained to the wall with silver. I don't know," she swallowed, and continued, "I don't know how long they've been in here, they were here before I got here. But I do know that they starve, and drain them. And sometimes, they'll unchain them and stick one of us in there with them. If the vampire is strong, they'll let us back out, and put us back in our cells. . . but if they aren't." She broke off her sentence, and I could hear her muffled cries.

I didn't need for her to finish her sentence, if a vampire couldn't control their bloodlust . . . . Well, it was all too obvious what would happen to the human. Fear clawed at my insides. Was that the fate that awaited me? Ripped to shreds by a rabid vampire?

Deep breaths.

"I've only seen it happen once," she hiccupped. "There was a girl here, about my age. Her name was Irna. They feed her to one of them. The door was closed, but we could still hear her screaming. It was - it was horrible."

Oh god! What had I gotten myself into? What kind of sick people would do something like that?

"Do you know them?" I asked her, trying to keep her talking. "The vampires, I mean. Have you seen either one of them?"

She sucked in a deep breath, then spoke slowly, her voice more calm, and sure. "There is a woman, I've seen glimpses of her. I don't know her though. But the man, I recognized him immediately. I don't know his name, but he plays for that band Scarlet Angel. You know, the one that is always playing at Ragnarok."

My heart plummeted to my feet. "Rémy? You mean Rémy is here?"

"That's his name," she agreed. "He's in the left cell. I've only seen them open it twice. Dahlia, she's in the other cell, was put in there with him for a little over an hour. We'd thought she was dead for sure. But somehow he managed to restrain himself. When they let her back out, she was completely terrified. She'd said that he'd never made any move to attack her, that he just stared at her with that hungry look in his eyes. She said he looked horrible, all skin and bones. Didn't even look human anymore."

Anger bubbled to the surface, mixing with the fear, and I had to count backwards from ten to steady my already frayed nerves.

Rémy, the missing bound humans, and me smack dab in the middle.

I wiped away several stray tears from my cheek, and got slowly to my feet. I was still a little nauseous, my legs still a little shaky, but I managed to stand tall, and have another look around. My cell was small, dirty, and smelt of dirt and mold. There was what appeared to be a small army cot in the corner for sleeping, two soiled green blankets thrown on top of it. I made a mental note to never sleep on it. There was a porcelain toilet across from the cot, dirty and chipped from age and weather. It was flushed, but there was no mistaking the scent of excrement that wafted from it. Several rolls of toilet paper were thrown onto the ground next to it. The first thing I noted was, no privacy. I'd have to use the restroom in front of complete strangers. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. One problem at a time. I looked over my cell again, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. The cot was chained to the metal bars of the cell, making it impossible to move. The metal bolts welded to the steel frame. Making sure to hold my nose, I walked over to the toilet. I didn't want to touch it. But what other choice did I have? Cringing, I tried to pull the lid off of the cistern, but it wouldn't budge.

"We've already tried that," the girl said. "We think it's glued on or something." She sighed, "they don't leave anything in the cells for us to use against them."

Frustrated, and afraid I began pacing my cell. The adrenaline boost the fear had given me earlier was starting to wear off, and panic was starting to set in again.

Think. Think. Just think.

My jumbled thoughts were chasing tail in my head, and I found myself struggling to hold on to them. What the hell was I going to do? How was I supposed to get out of this?

Calm down.

Rémy.

If I could talk to Rémy, maybe we could formulate some kind of plan of escape.

"What's your name?" I heard the girl ask suddenly.

"Alice," I answered her. "Alice Sutton."

"My name is Leila," she told me. "And those two over there are Matthew, and Dahlia."

I walked over to the bars, and peered through them at Leila. She was small, with pixie-like features. Her short auburn hair was tangled, and sticking in all different directions. Her blue jeans, and shirt were torn, and dirtied. Her skin caked with mud and scratches. Her bright green eyes wide with fear, and resignation.

"How long have you been here?" I asked her.

"I don't know," she replied timidly. "You sort of loose track of time here."

I scrunched my nose up, trying to figure the math in my head. I'd been under house arrest for at least two weeks, and they had been missing before that. So, two weeks, maybe more. I replayed Abel's and my conversations of the previous weeks over, and over in my head, fishing through the overload of information.

Sasha Valentine! That had been the name of the missing vampire!

Not that her name mattered much in the long run. Sighing, I glanced over at the other two cells. I couldn't see much, just bare feet sticking from under the dirty blankets. "Are they okay?" I asked.

"Just sleeping. We don't get much of that in here. They always leave the lights on, and well . . ."

"Hard to sleep with the threat of imminent death hanging over your head?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Questions ran wild in my mind. "Aside from the other girl, how many of you have been in here?"

"Five - that we know of."

"Are there any other vampires aside from them?"

"No . . . I don't think so."

"What about the humans who bought us here, do you know anything about them? How many of them are there? What they want with us? Anything at all?"

She thought for a moment, her face set into a serious expression. "No. Like I said before, we only see them on certain occasions, and even then, their faces are covered. They never talk to us either. So far it seems their only motive is torture."

"No ransom demands or anything?"

"Not that I know of."

I thought on it. If money wasn't their objective, and torture seemed their main goal . . . What was their purpose? Or did they even have one? Maybe they were just some sick bastards who got off on this sort of thing?

Leila, and my conversation lapsed into silence as I contemplated plans of escape in my mind. I fished through my memories of mystery novels, and action movies, trying to adjust their daring escapes to my own current predicament.

Feigning sickness to lure a guard in? Doubtful. If their ultimate goal was to make us vampire kibble, why would they care if we expired ahead of schedule?

Seduction?

Play dead until they came in to remove my body?

Both of those scenarios also fell under very unlikely. Even if I could lure one of these people into my cell, what would I do then? Put them into a sleeper hold? Beat them unconscious with my dirty blankets? From what I remembered of my kidnapper, he'd been burly, and very strong. In a one on one fight, I wouldn't stand a chance.

Fashion a lock pick out of bobby pins? Negative. All I had in my hair was a ponytail holder.

If I could somehow get to Rémy, and set him free, maybe we'd stand a chance . . .

Of course, that plan was completely contingent on his self-control, and how much of his personality hadn't yet been lost to the blood lust. My mind flashed back to the events of Ragnarok, and I pictured the male vampire that had attacked me in my mind. I saw the hungry look in his eyes as he loomed over me, his fangs flashing menacingly. I imagined Rémy in his place. Looking at me with that hunger, that hate. I shivered at the thought, and pushed the mental image to the back of my mind.

Rémy would never hurt me. Never.

Not purposely.

I turned, and looked at the two metal doors. They loomed ahead of me like two menacing behemoths. I imagined him in there, chained to the wall like some sort of animal, and I felt my conviction waver. He was less than twenty feet away from me, and yet for all intensive purposes he might as well of been standing on the moon. Would he even recognize me? Or would he be too far gone? I swallowed back several tears. I would not, could not give in to hopeless despair.

Time passed slowly, and when I wasn't plotting daring escapes, or wallowing in self pity, I was talking with Leila. I told her about my life with Abel, and she told me about her life with her vampire, Thomas. She'd been bound to him for a little over sixty years. They'd been lovers for going on ten.

"I've seen Abel before," she told me. "He's really very good looking, and a lot of the vampires seem to know his name." She paused, as if she was trying to word her next sentence. "Are the two of you lovers?"

"No," I told her truthfully. "We've never had that sort of relationship."

"Oh, I see."

We reverted back to silence.

Dahlia was the first to awaken, and I introduced myself to her. She merely acknowledged my presence, and greeting with a nonchalant grunt. Her dirty and disheveled appearance mirrored Leila's, but whereas Leila was thin, and willowy, Dahlia was curvy, and robust with dark hair, and even darker eyes. Her caramel colored skin, and high cheek bones eluded to some sort of exotic background.

Matthew, her next door neighbor, woke up a little while after her. He was decidedly more friendly, though morose, and a little crabby. However, given the situation, I couldn't fault either one of them for bad manners.

Matthew had shoulder length, dirty blonde hair, and mahogny brown eyes. He was tall, and thin. His round boyish face sporting faint stubble. I pegged him as late teens, maybe early twenties.

Neither one of them seemed to want to engage me in conversation like Leila had. In fact, they seemed to go out of their way to avoid me. Especially, Dahlia. Matthew, at least, acknowledged my presence. Even if he did only talk to me in two word sentences.

I don't know how much time passed before I heard the sound of a door unlocking, and the slow creak of groaning wood. My heart began racing wildly as I heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. A figure emerged from the darkness, dressed in black, face covered in a dark ski-mask. They were tall, but smaller than the man that had attacked me. They stepped onto the dirt floor, and from the corner of my eye, I noticed the others cowering into the corner of their cells. I got to my feet, standing tall, and stuck my chest out in defiance.

I would not cower like a beat puppy.

The figure walked slowly towards me, carrying a large covered tray in one hand. It looked like something a restaurant waiter would carry.

They walked past me and Leila, towards Dahlia, and Michael. I watched angrily as the masked figure set the tray on the ground and proceeded to shove food into their cells through a small flap above the table. My eyes darted to the table in my cell, and I noticed the same flap. I hadn't seen it before. The masked figure then continued to do the same for Leila, and lastly myself. Adrenaline surged through me as my captor approached my cell. They opened the flap, and shoved a small paper plate through, and then a small styrofoam cup.

Do something! A voice inside my head screamed.

Do what? The flap closed, and they walked back to pick up the tray. Frustrated, scared, and angry with myself for not taking any action, I walked towards the plate of food. There was chunks of meat, and potato in some sort of thick brown gravy. My stomach growled as the scent of the food hit me. The small cup was filled with clear, and delicious looking water.

What if it was poisoned? Or drugged?

My eyes darted back towards the masked figure, and anger flared through me. Anger, and hate.

"Hey you, asshole!" I shouted angrily.

I heard the others sharp intake of breath as our captor turned slowly to face me. Before I had time to over think what I was about to do, I grabbed my plate of food, squeezed it through the bars, and tossed it directly at them. Meat, gravy and potato flew through the air, and splattered our masked captors clothes.

"Go fuck yourself," I seethed through clenched teeth.

I couldn't see his face, but I could see the hate, and anger burning in his eyes. It was directed towards me like a laser beam. My bravery faltered, and I felt myself shrinking away from the malice in his dark eyes. Despite my fear, I stood my ground, refusing to back down. He stared at me, and I stared right back, unflinching and resolute.

With one last sneer, he turned on his heel, marched up the stairs, and slammed the door behind him.

I let out a sigh of relief, and nearly sunk to my knees.

"You shouldn't have done that," I heard Leila say.

Dahlia snorted. "What are you stupid or something? If you go pissing them off, we are all going to be punished for it." She muttered under her breath something that sounded suspiciously like dumb bitch, and I had to bite back a snappy retort.

I heard Leila let out a weary sigh. "You really shouldn't have done that," she repeated. "They might not feed you again for a while."

"I don't care," I mumbled. "If they want to starve me, they can go right ahead."

"Just remember," Matthew chimed in, "you won't be getting any of my food."

Chapter Eight

As it turns out my resolution wasn't as strong as I would have liked it to be. Three meals came and went, and I received nothing but a small cup of water for my troubles. It served to wet my dry mouth, but only strengthened my hunger. Leila occasionally conversed with me, tossing me bits and pieces of her food through the bars of the cell, but the other two continued to ignore my presence.

Which was again, fine by me.

Lack of food was making me grouchy, weak, and shaky. I don't know how much time passed, and without a window to the outside world, it was impossible to tell.

When my meals started being served again, I successfully managed to reign in my anger and frustration. I had no more outbursts. And despite my fear of being poisoned and drugged, I greedily devoured all of my meals. They were simple, with three or more ingredients, no spices or salt to add to the flavor. But I was thankful for them. I estimated that they gave us about three meals a day, and so I began counting my days like that.

A day turned into a week, and I found myself wallowing in despair. Little of my time was spent talking, most of it sleeping and laying on my cot, lost in my own thoughts. I thought about Abel, and Rémy. Angel, and my parents. Charlotte, and Wilhelm.

Sasha and Rémy's cells were never opened, and my mind wandered more and more to what lay behind them. How much of his mind remained? Would he even recognize me when, and if I finally saw him?

I liked to think he would, but doubt was starting to worm its way in. From what I knew, he'd been without blood for a while, and if he was indeed chained with silver, it would be depleting his strength even further. Without blood, his injuries wouldn't heal, and his need to feed would be increased tenfold.

I spent most of my time sleeping, depression sinking further and further in. In my sleeping hours, I was besieged by memories of the past, and nightmarish visions of a blood crazed Rémy ripping, and tearing into my flesh. Mostly, I dreamt of Abel, and our past together.

I dreamt about our short time in Romania in the 1800s. We had posed as father, and daughter, and had lived as simple farmers for nearly ten years. At the time, I had been dating a Professor's son, a handsome man by the name of Grigore.

Grigore had been tall, and well muscled, with dark hair and tanned skin. He'd been a gentleman in the truest sense of the word. Admittedly, I hadn't spoke much Romanian, just enough to get by on a daily basis, but I could always recognize sweet words being whispered into my ear. I'd only spent several short years with Grigore before Abel, and myself had had to flee due to war, but I had loved him.

And in my lonely isolation, he haunted my dreams more and more. I thought of the times that I had spent nestled in his arms, safely cocooned in his strong embrace.

Grigore had wanted a family, a dutiful wife, and dimpled children. A son to carry on his trade, and daughters to dote upon. My love for Grigore had been strong, but our relationship had been built upon a falsehood. To him, Abel had been nothing more than my over-protective father, and me the love of his life. He'd even asked Abel for my hand in marriage. Abel, had left the choice up to me.

The prospect of a family had enticed me, and for a short time, I had found myself lost in the fantasy of a married life, and children. Abel had been adamant that he supported me no matter what decision I made, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He'd been terrified of losing me.

In the end, I had chosen Abel over Grigore.

I always chose Abel.

We fled Romania during the Russian-Turkish war when Osman Nuri Pasha had set up defenses in Plevna. I'd left Grigore in the night, with a note of farewell, and a lock of my hair. I never saw him again.

Though, I did find out later that he had in fact, married and his wife had bore him five children. All of whom survived into adulthood to bear children of their own. He died of pneumonia in his bed, his wife, children and grandchildren standing faithfully at his side. He'd been sixty six years old.

Between the life I had chosen, and the one I had left behind, Grigore had been one of my few regrets.

And for the longest time, I had begrudged him his happiness, and the life that he had forged without me. Deep down, I had even been a little jealous. Grigore and I never would have truly worked. We were just destined to walk two different paths.

Of course, there had been others in my life. Some of their faces blurs to me, others crystal clear. Some had stayed in my life, but most had wandered out of it. I stayed the same, while everything changed around me. But that had been my choice, and no one elses. A choice that I could never bring myself to regret.

Death, a prospect that had eluded me for over two hundred years, was now a menacing beast at my back, its hot breath on my neck. The thought terrified me. I'd lived several lifetimes, done so many things, but there was still so much more I wanted to accomplish.

However, what I worried about most was not my own life, but Abel's. When I had first me him, like me, he had been in a state of despair. We'd both been looking to end our lives that day. But through coincidence, or fate, we had found each other. Saved one another.

What would Abel do without me?

Would he live on, and make a new life for himself like Grigore had? Or would he follow me into death?

I shook the thoughts from my head. I didn't like to think so negatively, but it was getting harder to stop myself from sinking deeper, and deeper into an inconsolable depression. My silent companions were of little consolation. Not that I wanted someone to hold my hand, and tell me everything was going to be okay.

Well, maybe I did.

It would have been nice to have a little comfort in my loneliness.

Our captors remained masked, and silent. Coming one at a time to deliver our meals. I wracked my brain trying to guess their motives. But without so much as a peep from them, it was really hard to figure out. The most obvious reason was ransom. But as far as I knew, no contact with the outside was being made.

Leila and I often found ourselves conversing on the subject while Matthew and Dahlia slept.

"I don't think it's money," she said one day. "I mean, if it was, one of us would have been traded for a ransom by now."

She had a point. "That's true. And if they wanted money, they wouldn't be in such a hurry to feed us to the wolves."

There was a momentary silence, and I heard the rustle of sheets as she moved around in her bed. "To be perfectly honest with you, sometimes I think they just brought us here to kill us."

I'd been thinking the same thing, I'd just been too afraid to say it out loud. "But if that's the case, why are they feeding us? Why not just let us starve? Or for that matter, why go through the trouble of kidnapping us at all? It would have been easier to kill us in transport, or for that matter, just kill us. Why go through all of this? It just doesn't make sense."

She sighed. "Maybe they're just psychotic. Maybe there isn't a reason."

"I suppose," I mumbled.

The thought of dying disturbed me. But the thought of dying for no reason, just because some psycho decided to kill on a whim, shook me to my core.

Why? I had no clue.

No matter the means, or the motive, the end result remained the same. Though, just because, just didn't seem like a good enough reason to me. At least, not a reason that I wanted to die for.

"How did you meet Abel? Leila asked suddenly. I could tell that she was trying to derail the conversation from its depressing course.

I shifted in my bed, the coarse material of the blankets scratching my bare legs. And again, for the millionth time, I cursed myself for not dressing more suitably. But really, how do you dress for a kidnapping?

Pants, definitely pants. "I was only a child when my parents died. They took a fever, and never recovered. I didn't have any other family to take me in, and none of my parents friends wanted me. After the funerals, our house was ransacked, and I was left with nothing. I wandered the streets for weeks, eating scraps of whatever food I could find. Anything I could steal, or beg for was fair game. But for the most part, no one noticed me. No one cared. There were so many others on the street, dead, dying and starving. There was just too many people, and I was just one little girl. Sometimes I would sleep in churches, but mostly I just slept on the street. I lived like that for weeks. Alone, starving, and sick. One day, I'd just had enough."

I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and closed my eyes. "I had nothing left. No one was waiting for me. There was no one to care for me. I was lonely. I was scared. But mainly, I was just tired. Tired of being alone, tired of being sick, tired of being hungry, tired of hurting all the time. I just wanted it to be over. I just wanted it all to stop."

I paused, and swallowed back several tears. "Abel stopped me from killing myself. And the funny thing is, I stopped him from doing the exact same thing. Though, honestly, I don't know how. We talked for a while, I told him about my life, my parents, and the weeks I'd spent on the street. When I was done, he just swept me up into his arms, and held me. He promised me that I'd never be alone again, and we've been together ever since."

"How old are you?" She asked softly.

"Old enough," I gave a slight chuckle. "Two hundred and forty seven, almost two hundred and forty eight. My birthday is in a few months." If I live that long. "What about you?"

"I was born in nineteen thirty six, right here in the states. My father was a reporter, and my mom a housewife. My dad made good money, we weren't well off, but we lived good. When I was seventeen, my father promised me to his bosses son. I was angry, and hurt. In retaliation, I ran away. I stole some of my mother's jewelry, and some cash from my dads secret stash, and hit the road. I worked as a waitress for a while, lived with this older couple. They were really sweet. I liked them."

She paused, as if she was gathering her thoughts. "I was walking home one night from a long shift, my feet hurt, and I was tired. They jumped me out of nowhere. I didn't even see it coming. They dragged me into the street, robbed me, and almost . . . He saved my life, Thomas. He killed my attackers, and then carried me to his apartment. I knew I should have been scared, but I wasn't. There was just something about him that entranced me, sucked me in, like a fish on a hook. I stayed with him while I recovered, and he told me he'd been watching me for a while. Said he'd never met anyone like me."

She chuckled. One of those smitten school girl chuckles. "Been with him ever since. Best decision I ever made."

I smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

We fell into familiar conversation. What we missed, what we would do or eat if we ever made it out alive. Leila was leaning towards a long hot bath, and a big bowl of chocolate ice cream. I agreed with the bath part, but my stomach was screaming for carbs. Namely, pasta. A big bowl of spaghetti, raviolis and maybe a plate of lasagna.

We were discussing books we'd read when I heard the door at the top of the stairs creak open. We both immediately fell silent. Was it already time for our meal? Our masked captor emerged from the dark of the stairwell, hands suspiciously empty of food. I felt my stomach plummet to my feet. What the hell was going on? I watched afraid, and entranced as they walked over to one of the cells that held the starving vampires, and proceeded to unlock it.

My heart sped up in my chest, threatening to burst from my ribcage. Was this it? My time to die?

I saw movement from the corner of my eye, and turned my head slightly. Dahlia was peeking over her covers, now wide awake.

The fear in the room was tangible, I could feel it pressing down on my chest like a heavy hand.

Too afraid to move, or speak, I watched as the captor walked towards me, the door to the vampires cell now standing wide open. My body began trembling more, and more the closer they came to me.

If I was to die now, I would not go quietly.

I would fight with every last ounce of strength I possessed.

I could feel my muscles tense as they neared me, and I began formulating plans of attack in my mind.

The captor stopped in front of my cell door, and I stared at them, defiant. Challenging them with my eyes.

Do not show fear.

Do not show weakness.

Stand tall.

They stared at me from beneath the dark mask. I couldn't see their eyes, as they were clouded by shadows, but I could feel the weight of their gaze on me, watching me, studying me.

I stared right back at them, eyes unflinching, hands balled into fists.

We stood like that, challenging each other for what seemed like an eternity. Until finally, they turned and walked away. I released a breath I didn't know i'd been holding. I closed my eyes, and breathed deeply as several tears escaped.

My relief, however, was short lived as I heard Leila began crying frantically. I opened my eyes, and spun around to see her being dragged from her cell, kicking and screaming.

I ran to the cell bars, and banged on them angrily with my fist. "Stop! You can't do this! She hasn't done anything!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs, as Leila cried and begged for her life.

Dahlia and Matthew remained silent, cowering under their sheets.

I watched helplessly as she was thrown into the small cell, her cries of terror ringing like bells in my ears. I screamed, pleading for her life, as I shook the immobile bars of the cell.

I tried frantically to peer into the darkened cell of the captive vampire, but it was impossible. All I could see was a smothering darkness.

Leila screamed and screamed, her anguish becoming more and more evident as the large door was pushed slowly closed.

By the time the door was closed, and locked, my throat was hoarse from screaming. But I could still hear Leila crying, as she banged relentlessly on the door.

The masked captor gave me one last glance before they walked up the stairs, and disappeared.

I stood in my cell, stupefied.

Had this really just happened?

Was this really happening?

Couldn't it all just be a dream?

I had to be dreaming, right?

This couldn't be happening!

Leila fell silent momentarily, and I found myself listening, and waiting with baited breath.

Maybe the vampire wouldn't attacked?

From what she had told me earlier, she was in the cell of the girl vampire, the one I had deduced was Sasha Valentine. Maybe Sasha would be able to resist? Maybe she wouldn't.

My train of thought was cut short by more of Leila's screams. Only these were different. They weren't just screams of terror, they were screams of pain. She screamed, and screamed, her voice becoming more shrill, more broken.

I imagined her in there, being slowly ripped apart by a blood crazed vampire, and I couldn't stand the thought.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to no one, my pleas drowned out my Leila's torturous cries. "I'm so sorry."

I covered my ears with my hands, and tried to drowned out the sounds of Leila's dying screams.

I couldn't.

They echoed in my brain like the sound of a beating drum.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to imagine myself away. Some place, any place, but where I was.

I imagined myself back in Abel's coffin, curled up next to him as he lay dead.

I'd have given anything to make it true.

I just wanted to be home, with him. Not a care in the world.

Guilt, and fear rushed over me in tidal waves as I listened to Leila die.

Guilt for my inability to help her.

Fear for my own life.

Leila died screaming, and begging for her life.

In reality it took minutes, but to me it felt like hours. To her, it probably felt even longer.

Later, I would tell Thomas that she died quickly, and without much pain. That she had been brave, and defiant up until the very end. Whether he believed me or not, I still don't know. But I do know this, her screams would haunt me for the rest of my life.

Chapter Nine

The rest of the days spent in my cell passed in a hazy fog. Anger, frustration and a newfound sense of resolve were starting to overtake my previous feelings of despair and resignation. I refused to die in such a desolate place.

I refused to forfeit my life without a fight.

I would not die, and leave Abel forever to wonder.

I would make it out, and I would make it out alive to find my way back to him.

Matthew, and Dahlia obviously upset and shaken by Leila's demise, retreated further into themselves. Dahlia, even more so when they removed Leila's mangled and bloodied body from the vampires cell. Though, mangled would be an understatement. She was mutilated beyond recognition, limbs torn and bones snapped. She was merely a lump of bloody flesh that my mind refused to register.

My escape began a few days after Leila's demise, when they delivered what felt like my hundredth meal in captivity. I had planned it to fall on dinnertime, when I believed the sun had set.

I didn't discuss my plans of escape with the others, as I hadn't ruled out the possibility our captors had some form of surveillance on us. There was also the fact that I didn't believe they would be of any use to me. In all actuality, I believed they would be more of a hindrance.

The plan was simple, egg my captor into making me the next meal, and fight tooth and nail to get free. It wasn't the best plan, far from the safest, or the smartest, but it was the only plan I had. And if I failed . . . .

Well, I tried not to think too much on that possibility.

I bided my time patiently by trying to conserve what little strength I had, and formulating plans in my head. I didn't have much knowledge of self-defense ( a problem I planned on rectifying if I managed to make it out alive), but I did know how to hit someone, and make it count. The eyes, the nose, the groin. You don't have to hit hard, if you can hit smart.

Two light meals, came and went. The light meals usually consisted of bread, and broth, those meals I believed to be breakfast and lunch. Dinner was usually heavier, vegetables, and maybe a meat.

Nerves were twisting my stomach into anxious knots, and I had to force myself to be still. I didn't want to arouse suspicion by pacing back and forth, and back and forth in my cell, so I sat still. I wanted everything to appear normal until I sprung into action.

When I finally heard the door creak open, every nerve in my body sprang to life, like I had touched a live wire. I felt my muscles tense, and my brain began buzzing wildly. I fidgeted nervously with the hem of my shirt, and waited. They emerged from the darkened stairwell, usual covered tray in hand. I took several deep breaths, to try and calm my jittery nerves. It didn't help.

As they approached the cells, time seemed to move in slow motion.

My cell was first, and I had to swallow back my fear, and jump feet first before I lost all of my nerve.

"I'm tired of this," I said, trying to make my voice sound steady.

My captor looked at me, dark brown eyes visible behind the dark ski-mask. The eyes of a human, but undeniably a monster.

I stared them down, hoping my outsides weren't shaking as badly as my insides.

"You are going to kill me anyways," I seethed. "So why don't you just get it over with? Why don't you just kill me already!?"

They stared at me, confusion evident in their eyes. No doubt, I had taken them completely by surprise. There was a momentary silence, then finally, they slid my food through the flap, and turned around to walk off.

"Coward!" I spat. "Are you afraid of me!?"

They froze in their tracks, and I knew I had them. Just a little more egging on my part. "I'm not going to wait to die, I'm not going to sit here. If I'm going to die, it'll be now. I've had enough of this. Put me out of my misery. . That is, unless you are afraid. Coward."

I heard my captors sharp intake of breath, and then they spun around to face me. "If you want to die so badly, you dumb bitch, I'll be happy to oblige." His voice was angry, seething with hate, and malice.

Again, my bravery faltered, but I stood tall, determined to see my plan through to the end. He fished a cluttered key ring from his pocket, and stormed over to the two cell doors. He unlocked Rémy's, and I found myself sending up a silent prayer of thanks. This made things a lot less complicated.

Matthew, and Dahlia remained silent, but I could feel their eyes on me.

As our captor sauntered towards me, I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My blood felt as if it was on fire.

I could do this.

I had to do this.

They unlocked my cell door, and I had to stop my body from springing into action. The door swung slowly open, and our captor stepped inside the cell.

I took a deep breath, and without thinking, I charged, head first. I heard his sharp intake of breath as I collided with him, and we both tumbled to the floor. I had several seconds of disorientation before I managed to come to my senses, and scramble to my feet. I scuttled across the floor on my hands and knees, the dirt and concrete biting into my skin. There was a loud grunt as I felt the man clasp onto my thigh with a vice-like grip. I screamed, and kicked at him with my bare feet as hard as I could. There was a crack, and groaning sound as my heel connected with his face. He released me, as he swore menacingly under his breath. I bounced to my feet, and dove for the metal serving tray he'd left sitting in the middle of the floor. I snatched at it, spilling food, and drink onto the floor. When he saw me, his eyes narrowed, and he sprinted to his feet. With as much strength as I could muster, I raised the tray, and swung.

Crack.

He fell to the floor like a stone, his body lifeless.

I stood, stunned, my heart pounding in my chest, my breathing labored.

I'd done it!

"What have you done?" I heard Matthew whisper. "They'll kill us for sure now."

Like they weren't going to anyways? I thought dismissively.

Ignoring the two of them I dropped the tray to the ground, and went to fetch the keyring from the floor.

I walked to Dahlia's cell first, and began fishing through the keys.

"No!" Dahlia screamed suddenly, causing me to jump. "Don't!"

I looked up at her, confused. Her dark brown eyes were swimming with tears. "I don't want them to think I had anything to do with this," she hiccupped. "I don't want to be punished."

I stared at her, flabbergasted. In all honestly I hadn't planned on them helping me, but I hadn't planned on them refusing escape all together.

I turned and looked at Matthew to see if he shared her reluctance. He shook his head, "they'll kill you, for sure. But maybe we'll be able to live a little bit longer."

With a loud sigh, I turned on my heel, and walked towards the darkened stairwell.

I crept up the wooden stairs, my bare feet making soft footfalls. Slivers of light shone through the cracks in the door at the top of the landing. I took a deep breath, and made my way slowly to the top.

When I reached the landing, I pressed my ear against the cool wood of the door, and listened.

Nothing.

Silence.

I let out a sigh of release, and tried the door handle. Locked.

My hand still shaking, I fumbled through the keying trying different keys, until I heard the lock click, and the door creaked open. From below, I could heard the muffled sounds of Dahlia's cries, and Matthew's curses. I ignored them, and pressed forward, firm in my resolve.

I crept forward with baited breath, waiting to hear shouts of warning or rushing footsteps, but there was nothing, only the sound of my heart pounding in my chest.

I stepped out into a dimly lit kitchen, and quickly scanned my surroundings. Dirty dishes were piled into the large metal sink, and stacked on the hardwood counters. Flies swarmed around the dirty dishes, and the place smelt of rotting meat and stale water. Numerous empty food cans, and glass beer bottles littered the floor in front of me. I tiptoed my way carefully through the maze of trash, trying to make as little noise as possible. The scuffed hardwood floors creaked under my weight, but there was nothing to be done about it. I stepped from the kitchen, into the equally disgusting dining room. Rats scurried under loose floor boards at my approach. The table was piled high with more dirty dishes, empty take out cartons, and more beer bottles.

The retro wallpaper faded, and peeling from the water stained walls, the beat up furniture, and mounds of trash led me to believe that we were being held in an abandoned house. Either that, or someone really needed to hire a housekeeper. A quick glance into the living room revealed an even bigger mess, dirty mattresses tossed onto the floor, and a darkened hallway that was blocked off by nailed boards, and yellow police tape.

I rushed to the nearest window, and nearly tripped on a wayward tin can. The noise echoed, as it rolled loudly across the floor. My heart skipped a beat, and I froze. I waited. Again nothing. I had to be more careful. I continued to the window, only this time I was careful to do so quietly. It was covered by heavy, moth eaten drapes that swept the floor, and blocked all outside sources of light. I threw open the drapes, and nearly screamed out loud in frustration. Metal burglar bars prevented entry, or escape. But I was also happy to note that the moon was shining bright, and full in the sky. That meant that I had been right in my estimation of the time.

From my limited view point, and the numerous trees, and overgrown shrubs that obscured my vision, I surmised that we were surrounded by woods. It made sense. If you were going to kidnap a bunch of people, and hog tie some vampires, you weren't going to do it in the middle of a suburban neighborhood. It made my situation more difficult, but not entirely possible. If I were to escape, I could easily lose my pursuers in the vast woods.

And go where? A sliver of doubt crept into the back of my mind. You don't know where you are, or even how far civilization is.

That was true, but at least, out there I would stand a fighting chance.

Only instead of being eaten alive by vampires, you could be eaten alive by bears, or lions, or . . .

Enough!

I tried to shake the lingering doubts from my mind, but they wouldn't budge. They stuck in the crevices of my brain, like an unwanted piece of gum on the bottom of a shoe. Deterred but still determined, I crept to the other windows that I could see, checking to see if any of them had been left unguarded, they had not. And to my immense frustration, the front door, my last means of escape was chained and padlocked. Though, one last glimmer peaked through the darkening clouds. . .

The key ring!

Excitedly, I began trying keys in the sturdy metal lock. I could get out! I could get out, and run for help and. . .

I stopped, the realization of the possible repercussions of my actions dawning on me. Sure, I could get out. But how long would it take me to find help? How long would it take for me to bring help back here to the others? How long would it take for my captors to realize that I had escaped, and was on my way with possible reinforcements? Probably not very long. They'd probably pack, up and run . . but the others? No doubt, they would want to clean up as many loose ends as possible. They would kill them. Matthew, Dahlia, Sasha Valentine, and Rémy. . .

I stood on the verge of my escape, indecisive, and tormented. Afraid, and eager. Full of hope, and at the same time full of despair. I could leave now, and escape, possibly even with my life. But the others, they wouldn't stand a chance. If I left now, I was just sentencing them to a quicker death. If I left now, my hands would be just as stained with their blood.

And Rémy . . .

I'd never be able to forgive myself.

In my mind I pictured the bridge that would take me safely across the vast ravine, from danger to safety, quickly crumbling to nothing beneath my feet. With a greater force of will than I knew I possessed, I turned away from the front door, and walked back into the desolate living room.

All of my hope, and courage had now almost completely abandoned me.

But there had to be another way, there had to be . . .

Buzz . . Buzz. . .

I stopped, and listened. Had I just heard? Surely, it couldn't have been. . .

Buzz . . Buzz. . .

A cell phone! I rushed to the sound of the phone, nearly tripping over several piles of trash, as I scrambled to find the source of the ringing.

The dining room table!

Ignoring the roaches, and rotting food that cluttered it, I tossed them onto the floor, and began frantically pawing through the piles of trash.

Please find it, please find it.

Bingo!

I found it wedged between an empty pizza box, and old Hot Rod magazine. The number on the ID read restricted. I clicked it over to voice mail, and with shaking hands began to dial Abel's cell phone number.

Please let him be home! Please, just let him pick up!

He picked up on the fourth ring.

"Who is this?" He said, his voice soft, and distant.

I nearly wept at the sound. "Abel?" I choked, nearly bursting into tears.

"Alice? Alice?! Are you hurt? Where are you?" He started talking in a rushed tone, reverting back to his native language.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." I said, sniffling back my tears. "And I don't know where I am, I. . "

I choked back my tears again, as I tried hard not to break out into sobs. "Rémy's here and another vampire, and the missing humans. Abel, they are starving them, and feeding us to them."

At this revelation, I heard him go silent, and then he began swearing rapidly under his breath. I could hear the fury, and anger in his voice.

"Alice," he said, his voice a little more steady, but no less threatening. "I'm going to see if we can trace the number you are calling from. Just stay on the phone with me."

I nodded, but remembered he couldn't see me. "Okay."

"Is there anything you can tell me that might help us find you, a description of where you are being held? Maybe an address?"

An address? Why hadn't I thought of that?

"Hold on," I said as I began sifting through the piles of trash on the table.

No mail, and none of the magazines had address labels on them. "No address. But i'm in abandoned house, in the middle of the woods, I think. They are keeping us locked in the basement. The windows have burglar bars, and the front door is chained and locked. I don't . . ."

"I'm going to kill you, you stupid bitch!" My captors voice rang up from the basement like a gong.

Fear stabbed through me, icing my insides.

"Who was that, Alice? Is that the person who abducted you?" There was no mistaking the fury in his voice now, it was almost as if I could feel it vibrating through the phone.

"Abel," I whispered into the phone. "I love you."

I pushed the mute button on the phone, rushed into the kitchen, and tossed it into one of the cabinets. If nothing else, it would give Abel more time to track the number. I stumbled backwards away from the open basement door, as I heard my captors angry footsteps rushing up the stairs. They appeared in the doorway, ski-mask matted in blood, eyes darkened with rage. They rushed me, and I cried out in surprise. I spun around, looking for something, anything, to defend myself with, but before I could decide on a weapon, there was a loud crack, and I was temporarily overcome by a terrifying darkness.

My eyes snapped open, just as I was being dragged down the basement stairs.

"You wanted to die bitch?" My captor sneered. "Well, you're about to get your wish."

Chapter Ten

I was thrust forward into the darkened cell, my heart drumming loudly in my ears. I stumbled forwards, but managed to stay on my feet. It only took a few seconds for my mind to register the scene that lay before me: Rémy crouched in the corner, his arms and feet manacled by silver chains.

Paper white skin stretched over bone, clothes tattered and dirty, dirt clumped in his tangled hair, eyes sunken into his skull, fangs bared.

He looked like a corpse in the truest sense of the word.

I stared into his familiar eyes, eyes that had always shone with spunk and humor, and realized with a frightening start, that he didn't recognize me at all.

I tried to call his name, but all I managed was a feeble grunt.

His half-lidded eyes surveyed me, and I felt tremors of fear pulse through my body. There was nothing familiar, or friendly about the way he was looking at me. Nothing of the Rémy I knew was in that gaze.

He was staring at me like I was the helpless gazelle, and he was the lion ready to pounce, eager to tear into my tender flesh. He leaned forward, and sniffed the air around him, his fangs elongating even more.

And in that instant I knew, my plan had failed. I had no doubt that Abel and the protectorate would find me, but in what state? Would I be a heap of bloody body parts like Leila? Abel would be crushed.

And, Rémy? Would Abel be able to forgive him? Would he be able to forgive himself?

No! You aren't going to die like this! A voice in my head shouted angrily.

Spurred by the angry voice in my head, I spun around, and threw myself desperately at the cell door.

My captor barely had time to let out a surprised gasp as my hands shot through the bars, and my fingers tangled in their clothing. With every last ounce of strength I possessed, I pulled them towards me, using the cell door, and my body as leverage.

"Get off of me, you stupid bitch!" My captor growled.

"I might die today," I growled as he struggled to free himself from my grasp, "but at least, i'll be taking you with me, you sick son of a bitch!" If I did this, at least, then the others might have a better chance of survival.

He fought with me, trying to twist and manipulate his body out of his clothes. I fought hard, my hands nearly slipping from the soft material several times. He pushed his body away from the cell door using his arms, and I felt my fingers slipping further, and further.

And then it happened, faster than I could blink, faster than I could move.

I heard the chains behind me rattle, and hit the ground, I heard my captors guttural scream of terror, and then I was pinned to the cell door, my face wedged between the metal bars. I managed one feeble scream before the breath was squeezed from my lungs. Rémy's body was pining mine to the cold steel metal.

I tried to scream, but no sound escaped my lips.

I tried to move, but it felt as if I was pinned between two brick walls.

Pain radiated through my body where the metal bars were biting into my skin.

My captors horrified screams filled my ears, and behind me Rémy's vicious snarls.

And even though I tried to ignore them, I could hear the sickening sound of flesh tearing, and bones cracking. As I began to loose consciousness, I fought desperately for air, but to no avail.

The last thing I remembered before blackness overtook me was the feel of warm blood splashing across my face.

I came to slowly, head throbbing, body aching, thoughts muddled.

I tried to move my body, but it fought back with a vengeance. Why did I hurt so bad?

"Don't move, kitten. You're lookin' pretty bad."

Rémy? Was that Rémy?

What was he. . .

The events came rushing back to me, and I bolted up straight, my head swimming. Rémy was sitting next to me, cross-legged, his tattered clothing soaked in blood.

Blood was caked in his hair, and smeared across his face.

I let out a surprised gasp as I scooted backwards away from him, my back hitting the metal bars of his cell, my hands slipping in the blood that was pooled on the floor.

"I'm not going to hurt you, kitten." He said suddenly, his voice calm, and soothing. "I would never."

I took several deep breaths as I tried to calm my already frayed nerves, his words slowly sinking in. I blinked several times trying to adjust my vision. Rémy was completely drenched in blood, but he looked like himself. He had filled out, no longer just skin and bones. And his eyes. . .

"Rémy?" I asked, almost timidly. "Are you -" Not a blood-crazed, flesh-ripping killer? "You?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Do you mean, do I not have the urge to tear into your jugular? No, I do not. However, there are other things I would much rather tear into. If you are catching my drift."

My body relaxed, and I slumped back against the cell door. Relief washed over me like a rushing tidal wave. It felt like the fist that had been slowly clenching itself around my heart had loosened, and I could breathe freely.

I felt several tears fall, I couldn't stop them. Finally, some light was shining through the dark clouds that had been looming over me. And before I could stop myself, I was laughing. Relentless streams of tears cascading down my cheeks.

"Alice?" Rémy sounded distant, but I could hear the concern in his voice.

"I thought for sure I was going to die," I managed to say between fits of manic laughter. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"A very long while, you would not wake up." He paused, and then continued, "It was a good idea, for you to latch onto that man as you did. You are very cunning, mon chaton."

"More like desperate," I said when I was finally able to catch my breath.

I opened my eyes, and looked at Rémy with blurred vision. He was staring at me intently, his dark curls plastered to his face, his lips slightly parted revealing a peak of white fang.

I felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his heavy gaze.

"Rémy?" I asked, my voice choked. He was looking at me like he had done before. Only now, the hunger was replaced with lust.

"You smell of blood," he said suddenly, his voice was husky, laced with desire. "Blood. Sweat. And beneath that, fear. I can taste you on my tongue, sweet like honey. I can hear your heartbeat, it flutters like a caged bird."

My mind began to whirl, my heart race. Before I would have given anything to hear him say those words to me. But now? What the hell was happening? People were dead!

I had almost died!

I was sitting in a pool of someone's blood for crying out loud!

In fact, I was sitting right next to said dead guys body. .

And yet . .

My body still responded to him. Despite the carnage, and tragedy that surrounded me, my traitorous body still yearned for him. Why was it doing this to me?

I could feel the heat rising to my face. "Please don't look at me that way," I whispered.

"Mais pourquoi pas? You do not think I see how you look at me?"

It's just the bloodlust, I reminded myself. He doesn't really see you this way. Just the bloodlust. The thrill, of the hunt, and the kill.

I turned away from him, and looked down at my blood soaked hands.

"No." I meant for my voice to sound steadfast, but it only sounded shaky and weak.

"No?" He repeated in confusion. "You do not want me? Your body speaks a very different story."

"No," I sputtered. "I mean, yes. I do. I do want you, but . . " I paused, trying to formulate the words in my mind.

"But?" He urged me in a low voice.

My rational mind struggled for a way to reject his advances, while my body called out to his.

"There are two others here. . . still alive."

"We cannot see them, they cannot see us."

Another argument. "There is a body here. ."

"Dead men can tell no tales."

Why was I even having this argument? It didn't make any sense. . How could I even want this in the slightest? My feelings perplexed me. "What if there are others? They might come looking for him, and we . ."

"Precisely," he said, effectively cutting me off. "If I am to die this night, I would much rather die in the throes of passion. Do you not agree?"

I took a deep breath, and willed myself to look up at him.

He was still staring at me, devouring me with his eyes. I felt my knees go weak.

Instead of letting my eyes wander, I tried to focus on his face. The angular lines of his jaw, his long-lashed dark eyes, the pout of his lips. I imagined his lips pressed against mine . .

Not helping! Not helping!

I saw him slowly extend his hand towards me, his chain dragging the floor as he moved. "I would not force myself upon you. You have but to say no, and we shall sit, and await our fate. It is your choice, kitten."

Damn him, I thought. He knows I can't say no to him. And damn me for being so weak.

Before I had time to rationalize my actions, I reached for him with a shaky hand.

He grasped my hand in his, and pulled me towards him with a surprising strength.

I struggled to get to my feet, as I slipped in the pool of blood beneath me.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of our captors mangled corpse.

I ignored it, pushing the image far back into the crowded recesses of my mind.

Rémy pulled me into his embrace, and I collapsed into his arms. I could smell the blood on him.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled my body flush against his, my legs straddling his lap.

He planted a feather light kiss on my collarbone, and one on my neck. I felt my insides shiver at his touch. "I knew you could not deny me," he whispered huskily into my ear.

Manipulative bastard. "Just shut the hell up," I said breathlessly.

He laughed, and I could feel the sound reverberating in his chest. "As you say," he said, and with that, he trailed a line of kisses from my earlobe, to my clavicle, licking the sweat, and dried blood from my skin as he went. I tangled my fingers in his hair, as he nipped at my skin with his fangs. My body quivered at the sensation, and I moaned in pleasure.

"Drink from me," I asked without thinking.

"No," he growled. "He would never forgive me."

He? Before I could think on it any longer, his lips were pressed against mine, his tongue dancing with mine. Wanting. Devouring. His lips tasted of blood, and his mouth of heaven.

All thoughts except for him fled from my mind.

The more he kissed me, the more I could feel his want for me growing, pressing against the inside of my thigh.

As my need for him became more urgent, and my body more impatient, I pulled desperately at his hair to try and relieve my frustration.

I wanted him right then, and there.

Consequences be damned.

I didn't care who was watching, or who might be coming for us. All I wanted was for him to take me, to feel his flesh pressed against mine.

One hand ventured under my shirt to caress my back, the other up my thigh to cusp my buttocks.

Reciprocating, I reached down into his lap with my free hand, and massaged his throbbing erection.

I gave a slight yip of surprise as one of his fangs pierced my lip.

"Alice," he groaned my name, and I found myself weak from the sound of it.

I felt his hands grasp my hips, and he laid me down onto the cold, damp floor. And in the next instant, his body was pining mine to the floor. His hips grinded into mine, his hands began to pull up my shirt, his mouth was latched onto mine . . .

"How nice, a vampire and his filthy blood whore." A male voice interrupted.

I froze, as I felt Rémy's body go stiff above me.

"You, and your kind sicken me," he spat, his voice filled with vehemence, and disgust. "You are parasites, a disease on this world, stealing life from those who deserve it much more than you. You are nothing but a cancer on the face of this earth, a plague that needs to be cured. You, and those filthy humans that bond themselves to you. Traitors to their own kind. I have no sympathy for either one of you."

"Rémy?" I whimpered.

"Do not move," he whispered under his breath.

What was happening? I looked into Rémy's eyes, they betrayed nothing, they looked empty. His face an unreadable mask.

He snarled, his lips curling, his voice a menacing rumble. "That will not kill me."

I heard the man laugh. "Maybe not you. . ."

"I will have you begging for death by the nights end. . "

A loud bang filled the air, Dahlia screamed, Rémy's body was jerked backwards off of mine, his blood splattering my face.

I screamed.

Another shot, and Rémy was thrown backwards against the wall.

I scrambled to my feet, and to his side. A chunk of his shoulder had been blow away, his right arm completely mangled.

I screamed his name, but he remained motionless, slumped against the wall like a broken doll, eyes rolled into the back of his head, blood gurgling from his mouth. Gunshot still ringing in my ears, I cried for him to respond.

"Your turn."

I turned to face my killer, tears spilling from my eyes, my body numb, mind racing.

I was staring down the barrel of a shotgun.

So this was it.

I was going to die.

Would it hurt?

Or would I go quickly?

Would I finally be reunited with the parents that had left me so long ago?

I didn't want to die. .

He cocked the shotgun.

But what choice did I have? My fate was no longer in my own hands.

I closed my eyes, and waited for death to carry me away.

Nothing. .

I heard my captor cry out in pain.

I opened my eyes, and stared dumbfounded.

Abel!

My would-be killer was dangling in the air, Abel gripping him by his throat, the shotgun tossed to the floor. I sat in shock, my mind only able to register one thing, Abel. My Abel.

"Where is my family?" The man choked.

"Dead." Abel replied, his voice full of darkness, and anger. "Every last one of them."

"No!" The man wailed, his voice full of anguish. "They were innocent!"

Abel cocked his head to the side, and stared at the man as if he was an alien being. There was only malice in his eyes, malice and death. His blue eyes sparkled with fury, his being radiated hate.

No.

This was not my Abel. My Abel was not this cold. My Abel was not cruel, or spiteful.

A wicked smile slowly formed on his face, his fangs glistening with blood.

"They were delicious," he said with a voice so cruel, and terrifying, that I refused to believe it belonged to him. And with those words, he slashed at the mans throat, and then tossed him to the floor. The man floundered several seconds, as he fought for breath, his arms and legs twitching.

I watched, shocked, as he took his last breath, and his body went limp.

Death. So much death.

"Alice?" I only vaguely heard Abel call my name.

"Alice?!" He shouted my name, and my head turned towards him.

He was standing at the cell doors, gripping the bars tightly, the metal silver burning into his skin.

Blood coated his clothes, his hair, his skin.

I had to be dreaming. This all just had to be one big dream. It couldn't have happened.

I was dreaming. God, I just wanted to wake up.

I dropped my gaze, and looked down at the floor. I was going to wake up any minute now. Safe in Abel's coffin.

"ALICE?!" He screamed my name, his voice wracked with fear. "Open the doors now!" I heard him snarl.

"She must be in shock," I heard a vaguely familiar voice announce.

There was a hurried rustling sound, and then I heard the cell doors creak open.

Abel was by my side faster than I could blink.

"Alice? Alice?" He called my name frantically.

I looked up into his eyes. They were no longer filled with hate, but with fear. Ruby red tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Abel?" I whispered his name like a prayer.

"I am here," he told me, as he took me into his arms. "You are safe."

Finally.

I buried myself into his embrace, trying to cocoon myself in his being. I never wanted him to let me go. I never wanted to be without him again.

I clung to him desperately, as I sobbed into his shoulder. And again, I felt like that lost little girl on the Thames river all those years ago, waiting for the cruel world to crush her in it's beast-like claws.

But just as he had before, Abel had managed to snatch me from death's clutches yet again.

Chapter Eleven

I sat on the hood of an old beaten down, and rusted car, a warm blanket wrapped tightly around my shoulders. It sufficed to warm my skin, but did nothing for the cold that had seeped into my bones.

I was shaken, but visibly stronger after a blood transfusion. Abel's blood was coursing through my veins, making me stronger by the minute. I tried not think about who else's blood was in there.

The protectorate was scrambling to and fro, erasing all evidence of their transgressions. Bodies were being burned, blood scrubbed clean, houses leveled. Soon there would be no evidence at all that this little settlement of fanatic nut jobs had ever existed.

I'd learned from snippets of conversation that there had been a little over thirty people living in the small, isolated settlement. Men, women.

They'd believed that vampires were demonic abominations sent from hell to cleanse the world of innocence. They had also been trying to recruit others to their cause. Rally their forces. Start a war.

Smoke began to rise in the distance, and I tried not to think about the mass of bodies that was about to be burned to ashes.

They deserved it, I told myself, and refused to think on it any longer. Because if I dwelled on it any more than I had to, the knowledge of so many lives lost would crush me.

Matthew, and Dahlia had been whisked away back to their vampires. I'd seen them on their way out. They look terrified, but relieved. Neither one of them said a word to me, or even acknowledged my presence. It didn't bother me, not really.

Rémy had been fed, and patched up as best as he could be, but the bullets that he'd been shot with, had been silver, and they had done a lot of damage. He would be fine, but it would take a lot of blood, and sleep until his body completely healed itself.

Gabriel, and Annabelle had been among the cleaning crew. Annabelle, had given me one swift, tight hug, and then went about her business. Her black dress, had been drenched in blood, her fingernails caked with it. She'd been mumbling about having to clean up after messy humans before she had went about her business. Gabriel had stayed longer to chat.

"Nice pajamas," had been his greeting.

"Thanks," I said absently, oblivious to the sarcasm.

We sat in silence momentarily, as I watched everything, and nothing all at once.

Finally, he spoke. "I'm glad you're not dead. He would have been beyond devestated."

I turned, and looked at him. Like the others, he was caked in blood. But like Abel, he looked more angelic than devil. His auburn hair was short, and curled into ringlets that framed his face like a halo. He was tall, and slender, with honey colored eyes, and sharp cheekbones. I'd always estimated that he'd been turned in his late teens.

Gabriel was pretty, the kind of pretty that should be plastered on the cover of a magazine. Just looking at him made me feel better, even if it was only a tiny bit.

"You mean Abel?" I asked.

He nodded, and then turned to look out at the distant smoke. "People don't think that we feel like you humans do, but we do. Even more so, if we are bonded. We feel very strongly. Something in the bond we share, amplifies our feelings. No one knows why. It's a mystery really. It's why some of us refuse to bond, we don't want the human part of us to come back, and haunt us.

He paused, and then continued in a low, and melancholic voice. "I've never seen him so distraught. In all the time that I have known him, I have never seen him so utterly. . . lost. It was hard to see him so beaten down like that."

I frowned. Just how hard had my kidnapping hit Abel? "Why are telling me this?"

He shrugged. "I guess I just never realized how much of his happiness depends on you."

He stood up, and straightened the wrinkles from his blood stained suit. "What I mean to say is, try and take better care of yourself, okay? I don't want to have to see such despair on his face ever again. Because if something where to ever happen to you, I have no doubt, that he would soon follow."

And with those parting words, he turned on his heel, and left me to ponder my thoughts alone.

I sighed, and even to me I sounded weary, and downtrodden.

I also felt guilty.

I knew it wasn't my fault that I'd been kidnapped, and torn from Abel so suddenly, but I couldn't help but feel guilty for what it had put him through. The entire time that I had been locked in that cage, one of my only comforting thoughts was that he had been safe, and out of harms reach. But how had he felt? Waiting all the time, not knowing if I was alive, or lying dead somewhere. Had our positions of been reversed, I would have been inconsolable. Frantic.

In my younger days, after I had first found Abel, I had clung to him like a life raft, shadowing him constantly, refusing to leave his side. I'd woken up one day, and he had been gone. Nothing like that had ever happened before. I'd been beyond terrified. I had been so sure he'd left me, just like my parents had. The fear that I had felt that day had been suffocating, and I had been beyond all reason.

He hadn't been gone long, he'd only left to get me some food, but when he came back, I had been a mess. After that day, he promised me he would never leave me again, and I him.

We both had kept our promises.

My poor Abel. I couldn't imagine him in such a dark pit of despair.

I watched as several unrecognizable vampires carried sheet wrapped bodies past me. One was male with auburn hair, he carried a body over his shoulder. The other, a female, with a small body cradled in her arms. My breath caught in my throat, and I choked back several tears.

I squeezed my eyes shut, I couldn't stand to look any longer.

Pain, and guilt floored me.

Somehow, I was responsible this.

It was a stupid thought, and I knew it. I hadn't asked to be kidnapped, and tossed in a dirty cell. They had chose to kidnap me, and the others. They had chose their own path, and the path they had chose had led to a bloody, and tragic demise.

But for some reason, I couldn't shake this feeling of immense guilt that had settled over me like a dark rain cloud.

Was I really responsible for all of this?

Had these people paved their own path to destruction, or had I, with one single phone call, sent them spinning into oncoming traffic?

Had I not made the call, I would have most certainly died, as would have others. More bonded humans would have been kidnapped, and tossed down into that basement, their bodies eventually torn apart by blood starved vampires. Possibly Rémy. But those little ones, their path had been chosen for them.

Innocence lost. Wasted.

I wanted to cry out at the injustice, and futility of it all.

If they had just left well enough alone. . .

"Perplexing little creatures, you humans. I would have expected relief from you, even anger. But not guilt. No. Never guilt. But it rolls off of you in waves. Enlighten me, please."

I jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Out of nowhere the man had appeared next to me.

One second he wasn't there, the next he was.

Sometimes, vampires could have such a disconcerting presence.

"I'm sorry," I stumbled over my words, still trying to catch my breath. "But I don't . .."

"Forgive me," he mumbled. "Sometimes, I forgot how easily you humans spook."

I gaped at him, mouth ajar. He was dressed in a fine Italian suit, paired with a black trench coat that trailed the ground. His short hair was blonde, but looked hauntingly silver in the moonlight. He was tall, very tall, and lean. His face was severe, but uncommonly beautiful. It looked like he had been etched from stone. Large golden eyes accentuated by long dark lashes were the most prominent feature of his well defined face. Sharp cheekbones outlined a ridiculously full mouth.

Something about him struck me as otherworldly, more so than any other vampire I had ever laid eyes on. If Abel was the angel of death, than this man was the reaper.

I stared at him, oblivious to the world around me. He was standing perfectly still, like a statue.

Then, without warning, he turned the full force of his golden eyes on me.

And as I stared into his devastatingly beautiful eyes, I knew one thing for certain, he wasn't just looking at me, he was reading me. Knowing me.

"Who are you?" I asked meekly, his eyes still holding me in a trance.

"My name?" He mused, his lips perfectly still. "I have many. But you, my dear, can call me Wilhelm."

My jaw was nearly dragging the floor at this revelation. "You? You're Wilhelm? But that's not right. You can't be him."

He smirked, and his eyes glinted. "And why can I not be me?"

"Well, because. . ." I contemplated his question, and realized with a start, that I knew absolutely nothing about Abel's elusive boss. I'd never seen him, nor had Abel ever described him to me. In all the long years that I had known Abel, I had never once, in my entire long lifetime, laid eyes on this man.

Never.

But why?

Abel had said it was because he was intensely private, a man that coveted his solitude above all else. He handled the protectorate from the shadows, using others as his eyes, ears, and hands.

He was an enigma wrapped in a mystery.

A strangely intriguing mystery.

Whenever I used to envision Wilhelm, i'd always seen him as more of a . . . tax accountant type. Clean, neatly pressed suit (well, i'd had that part right anyways), dark hair neatly parted down the middle, stern dark eyes, a pair of over-sized glasses, briefcase at his side, an ever present scowl on his face.

Where I had gotten that mental image? No clue. Maybe it was all the crime dramas i'd watched over the years.

But one thing was for sure, I'd never once expected him to look . . . Well, like him.

I stared at him, dumbfounded, taking in the majestic air of his presence.

He was hauntingly beautiful, breathtaking even. But something about him seemed off.

Something not quite right.

"Again, I ask. . . Why is it that you feel guilt? You are alive. Your Abel is alive. What could you possibly have to feel guilty about?"

"How could you possibly know what I am feeling?" I asked, feeling slightly affronted by his brazenly accurate assumption.

There was a slight upturn to his lip. He was laughing at me, I could see it in his eyes. "What's so funny?" I was offended.

"You, You are painfully easy read. You wear your emotions for all to see, on your face, in your eyes."

From the corner of my eye, I saw more bodies being moved, more smoke rising in the distance.

"This doesn't bother you?"

"Does what bother me?" There was a perplexed look on his face.

"They were people. Living. Breathing. People." I took a deep breath, and continued in a subdued voice. "There were children here, and now. . . " Now there aren't.

"So it is the loss of life that anguishes you?"

"Of course it bothers me. How could it not? People are alive, and now they are dead, and it's my fault!"

"I see." He turned and look out at the billow of smoke on the horizon. "You are very egotistical, do you know that?"

I gaped at him. Shocked. "What did you just say?"

"Egotistical it means boastful, vain."

"I know what it means," I snapped angrily. Just who in the hell did he think he was? "What I don't get is who you think you are, coming in here and . . ."

"Wilhelm," he stated calmly. "I already told you my name. And now you listen to me." He turned, and glared at me, a flicker of anger in his eyes. I flinched away from it, but boldly held my ground. "Do you think that this all falls on you? If you think that everything that transpired here today was bought on by you and your actions, you have far too great an opinion of yourself. You are one person, a little girl, nothing more, and nothing less. These people orchestrated their own demise the moment they decided to move against me, and my own. The children were unfortunate casualties of what could have been a far greater and costlier war."

"They could have been left alive! They were not a threat to you! They were innocent! It was cold-blooded murder!" I shouted at him at the top of my lungs, my emotions boiling over.

A tic worked in his jaw, and fury filled his eyes. I shrank away from him, my insides turning to jelly.

He was angry. Livid. I could feel his power, and emotions hitting me like a brick square in the chest.

So powerful. So terrifying.

Terror chased away my other emotions.

This man, this thing. . . Just what exactly was he?

And just as if I'd flipped a light switch, all traces of anger vanished from him. And there was nothing, no emotion, no movement. He stood as still as a statue, his coat tails flapping in the breeze.

"Innocence is subjective," he said, his voice regaining its deep husky baritone. "I admit that what we had to do here today was regrettable, but it was a necessary evil. Had they been left alive, they would have caused us more problems in the future. This point in time would have been a rallying point for them. They would have cried out for revenge, and others would have joined them. None could be left alive to bear witness."

I wanted to argue with him, I wanted to scream at him. But I couldn't, and I hated myself for it. I hated myself for admitting that he was right. Had the positions been reversed, and I had been one of the children, I would have sought revenge as well. I would have focused my entire being on it.

But still. . . That didn't make it any less tragic.

"You are a fucking bastard," I said suddenly. I couldn't be mad at the people who'd kidnapped me, because they were all dead. I couldn't be mad at Abel, because he was the one who had ridden to my rescue. I couldn't be mad at the others who'd been locked away with me, because they had been victims of circumstance, just as I had. And I didn't want to be mad at myself, self-loathing was just way too much work. At the time, Wilhelm, seemed like a decent lightening rod for my wayward emotions.

I needed someone to blame, and he was there. A perfect target.

"Yes, I am." He said simply. His voice subdued, and oddly melancholic.

I sighed, again feeling weary, and beaten down.

I felt tired. The kind of tired that seeps into your bones, and encompasses your very being.

I just wanted to go home, crawl into Abel's coffin, and let the world pass around me.

I didn't want to deal with the protectorate anymore. I didn't want to look at Wilhelm, or see anymore lifeless bodies being carried to the fire. I didn't want to smell burning flesh anymore, or watch vampires lick blood from their lips with greedy lust. I didn't want to think about Leila, or Rémy, or Dahlia and Matthew. I just wanted to run, run and never look back. Just forget everything, erase it all from my mind.

It was cowardice, and I knew it.

I closed my eyes, and said a silent prayer. I prayed for Dahlia, and the children that would never have a life. I prayed for the dead, because I knew no one else would, or even cared to. And lastly, I prayed for myself. I prayed that I would one day have the strength, and courage to bear the weight of my memories, and actions, and I hoped that after all these long years, that God was still listening to me.

"Wilhelm, what is this meaning of this? Why on earth are you here?"

I opened my eyes to see Abel standing before me, his eyes fixated on Wilhelm.

They were staring daggers at each other, something unsaid passing between them.

"Abel!" I stepped from the hood of the car, and my legs crumpled beneath me.

Abel caught me in one swift movement, wrapping me in his arms.

"Alice? What is wrong? What did he do to you?" There was a subtle warning note in his voice, and I knew that it was not directed towards me.

"Nothing. He didn't say anything." I said hurriedly. Despite, my undeserved anger at Wilhelm, I didn't want to cause any conflict. "I'm sorry. I'm just - I'm still a little shaky."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm okay."

I felt his muscles relax, and some of the tension drain from his body. Just what had happened? What was I missing?

"What is wrong, little Abel? You seem. . . what is the word? Distracted." There was a teasing note to Wilhelm's voice, and it was almost as if he was poking fun at Abel. I didn't like it.

"And you seem, how do I put it? Glib, as usual. Now let me repeat my question, what are you doing here, Wilhelm?" Confused, I turned my attentions to Wilhelm. He was staring at Abel with an amused expression on his face.

"You are surprised. Why?"

"Oh, we both know why. It isn't in you to sully your hands with such menial tasks as this."

Wilhelm shrugged his shoulders, the smile never leaving his face. He was enjoying it, their little back, and forth banter. "You know me all too well." He paused, and straightened the wrinkles from his suit. "The reason I came, little Abel, was to finally introduce myself to your better half. I felt that it was time we met."

Abel groaned his disapproval. "And you don't think you could have found a better time for this - introduction?"

Wilhelm smiled, flashing pearly white fangs. "None that I could think of."

Abel sighed, and I looked up at him. His face was drawn, his blue eyes weary. He looked down at me, and smiled. I couldn't help but smile back.

"What I am I going to do with you, Wilhelm? He asked, never taking his gaze from mine.

At this, I heard Wilhelm laugh out loud, and I saw a look of surprise flash across Abel's face. "I should be saying that to you."

There was a momentary silence between us, the other vampires all but silent in the background. It was if the world had paused with Wilhelm's unexpected laughter.

"Well, he said suddenly." His voice no longer teasing, or playful. "Now that introductions have been made, I think I'll be taking my leave of this place."

Abel frowned. "Don't do anything stupid, Wilhelm."

"I make no promises, dear friend." I could hear the gravel crunching beneath his feet, as he walked away. "Oh, and Miss Sutton." I turned my attention from Abel to him. He was standing several feet away, hands in his pockets. Hair tousled from the wind. "A little bit of advice, from me to you. If you want to survive in this world, and not merely exist in it, grow strong enough to walk on your own two legs."

And just like that, he disappeared.

I stared at the empty place he once stood, flummoxed.

His words had struck a chord.

Weak. I was weak.

"Don't let him bother you, my lovely Alice. At his best, Wilhelm is eccentric. And at his worst, he's well . . . Lets just say he's perplexing, and leave it at that."

Walk on my own two feet. "Please, put me down Abel."

"Alice. . ."

"Please," I interrupted him. "Please. Just humor me."

"If that is what you wish." He set me down gently, and I was surprised to find that my legs were sturdier than I thought.

Walk on my own two legs.

He was right.

"Wilhelm thinks relying on others is a sign of weakness. But he is wrong, you know, and he is wrong about you. You are the strongest person I know. And it doesn't make you any less so, if you let me carry your burdens every so often. In fact, I shall always do it gladly, and without protest. You, my Alice, are my salvation, and I would gladly shoulder, any and all of your burdens, now and until the end of time."

I couldn't help but smile at the love, and sincerity in his voice. He meant it. My Abel.

"I know. I know." I walked over to him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him close to me.

"Abel, please take me home now. I want to go home."

Epilogue

Joseph Heller once said, "I want to keep my dreams, even bad ones, because without them, I might have nothing all night long."

I envy him those words, especially the courage it took to say them.

I wanted nothing all night long, to sleep peacefully without hearing Leila's dying screams ringing non-stop inside my mind. Her face haunted me like a phantom, her death clawing at my insides.

Somewhere deep inside me, a piece had been broken. A piece I didn't know if i'd ever be able to fix again.

I was a different person. My experience had changed me somehow. My old self had dried out like a husk, and new person had emerged from the tattered cocoon.

And though, I had selfishly expected the world to stop turning because of my ordeal, it moved along as it always does.

Rémy healed in record time, and returned to his philandering ways, not that I was surprised. Our almost rendezvous forgotten, the memory tossed aside. To him, at least. Try as I might, I couldn't forgot his touch, or the way he tasted. The memory of what could have been, and what I had almost done, haunted me. I'd merely had a nibble of the cake before it was ripped away from me, leaving me with an unsated appetite. And what I feared the most, was the he would never look at me that way again.

With hunger. With lust.

But deep down, I knew the truth, I just didn't want to admit it to myself. He had simply used me to sate his own blood fueled hungers. And now? Now I was back to being Alice again, just Alice.

But truth be told, I didn't mind it so much, being me.

I was alive, as was Abel. I still had Angel, a world of possibilities, and many long years ahead of, and behind me.

It took me weeks to come to that realization on my own, but once I did, I awoke with a newfound sense of purpose, and resolve. Wilhelm had told me to be strong, to walk on my own two legs, and that was exactly what I planned on doing.

I dressed quickly, and bounded down the steps (Etienne faithfully by my side), with a pep in my step, that I hadn't had in a long while. I stepped on to the first floor landing, and froze. Wilhelm was stretched comfortably on the couch, a tumbler in one hand, and a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

He raised his glass to me. "It is nice to see you join the land of the living. . . So to speak."

I was thrown by his sudden appearance.

"Alice?" I heard Abel call from the kitchen, "I am glad you came down. Would you like some breakfast?"

"No thank you," I called to him, and then looked back to Wilhelm." What are you doing here? I mean, can I help you? Sorry, I mean . . . " What did I mean?

Again Wilhelm laughed.

Abel stepped into the living room, a tumbler of blood in his hand. "Alice, I believe you have reached a milestone. Very few people have gotten him to laugh once, let alone twice. It is a monumentous occasion."

"What can I say? She amuses me." I amused him? Really?

Abel took a seat next to Wilhelm. "As interesting as I find that, you said you had urgent business to discuss. "

"Yes, of course. Directly to business, as usual." He stared at me for several more seconds, and I felt myself squirm under the scrutiny of his gaze. Then he turned to Abel. "I've got a job for you, my friend."

Abel raised his eyebrow. Apprehension written clearly on his face. "And what would this job entail, exactly?"

"Merely an investigation. There have been several reports of vampires running amok in Europe. It has even made the human news, if you can believe that."

"I can not." He took a swig of blood. "And what is it that you want me to do about it?"

"Confirm or deny the rumors authenticity, though I highly doubt there is any truth to this rumor. But after what happened recently, we can not afford to be lax about this sort of thing, and you are the only one that I can trust with this."

"I'm sorry," Abel said without hesitance. "But I cannot do this for you. My place is here, and so it shall remain."

By my side. He didn't need to say the words out loud, but I knew what was holding him back, and I was grateful.

"Don't be daft, Abel. Of course, you'll go." He turned towards me, "and of course, I'll expect little Alice here to be right by your side. You see, as of today, I am officially naming both of you as members of the protectorate."

The End

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A Texan, born and raised. Jennifer Leigh has been immersed in the worlds of science-fiction, horror and fantasy ever since she was a child. She has a boundless love of books, and an even greater love of writing.

Her first book, Captive is live on Smashwords. Learn more at  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/supernaturalsoiree or her Facebook Author page at

https://www.facebook.com/jenniferleighauthor

