A/N: We do not own Companions of the Night. We would love to steal the copyright….but I don't think that that will be happening anytime soon…

Written By: ME, of course, but also VampLoverNight92.

Chapter 1: Blocked Exit

"Good-bye, Michel," she said. She walked down the stairs, past Marsala's body, and out the door, heading for home.

And, Kerry might have made escaped, if it weren't from the tall, dark-haired, pale skinned statue of a man blocking Marsala's front door. Despite seeing a dangerous determination in the man's preternatural eyes that had sent her into anxiety, Kerry knew better than to look or even run away. First, this handsome man was obviously a vampire.

Whether good or bad, Kerry had yet to decide. Secondly, Marsala's corpse was within eye sight, and Kerry, fully aware of that, refused to avert her eyes from this man to the dead one sprawled on the carpet, immobile, that'd she had inadvertently murdered.

"Seems he's missed one." murmured the towering vampire, darkly eager.

His eyes trained on Kerry' neck, and in response, she began to fumble backwards as she attempted to keep her back opposite from the vampire. Kerry's overwhelming dread and scrambling only encouraged his predatory instincts as he stalked forward forebodingly.

Definitely, Kerry thought, not a good vampire. In seconds, the vampire had Kerry pinned to the back of Marsala's couch with hands both on her neck and gripping her hands painfully. Kerry's breathing restarted, first not working properly at all then only allowing her short, shallow, ragged breaths as she hyperventilated. The vampire's fangs made a slow approach to her Kerry's exposed, pulsing throat as if reveling in her fear with a murderer's appreciation. Kerry's mind whirled, wondering how to handle it.

Suddenly, Michel who had disappeared after Kerry's sentimental exit, transpired. Leaning casually and nonchalantly against the wall near the banister, directly in Kerry's line of view, Michel stood. His face was carefully guarded, only letting an expression of mild interest and amusement which only fueled Kerry's edgy, panicked composure. Is he going to let me die? Kerry wondered frantically as she made ineffective efforts to release herself. When she felt the vampire's fangs settle close to her neck, Kerry writhed wildly, and the vampire responded by lunging forward, almost catching Kerry's jugular vein lethally.

"Michel!" Kerry shouted, petulantly, and the vampire subduing her instantaneously wrenched himself away from her shivering form then gave the other vampire, observing the mortal girl with highly peaked interest, a peculiar glare.

The vampire in question, Michel, pushed himself gracefully from the wall and bent down in front of Kerry who was heaped, limbless, on the ground in shock. Extending a hand to her, Michel regarded her warily.

"…you were going to let him…" trailed on Kerry in a whisper as she ignored his outstretched hand, and then looked up at his intense, cobalt blue eyes for anything—repentance, amusement, anger. Seeing nothing, Kerry sighed moodily.

"Michel…" called the vampire, standing back cautiously, with a dangerous, accusing tone, "That girl knows your real name?"

"Is that why you stopped, Vince?" laughed Michel, who appeared now to have a rather atrocious amount of hilarity invested in the situation. Kerry's facial expression hardened.

"What was I supposed to assume? You stand there, not lifting a finger, and you certainly didn't say not to kill her. I guessed she was in league with the hunters that you mentioned in your email. I mean, she's recognizably a mortal." began Vince defensibly, the other vampire, who had slightly tanner skin than Michel and very deep, liquid brown eyes. He had a skinny head of dark brown, almost black, hair that just cleared the end of his jaw. He was lithely build, almost skinny in statue, but with clear strength hiding underneath his demeanor. "Who is she?"

Kerry shakily resumed standing, and looked Vince over appraisingly as he did the same. Michel, crossing his arms, glanced at Kerry.

"This is Kerry." He introduced unceremoniously with a curt smile. When Michel stared over at Vince, he noticed that Vince was not whatsoever entertained.

"You didn't kill her?" demanded Vince harshly. Michel took a quick step, so he was posed at Kerry's side, and retorted, "You didn't either." Kerry started to shrug away from Michel before she noted Vince's now murderous glare, and thought better of it. She turned to Michel with wide eyes, then spoke, "So, you planned on him killing me, is that it?"

Michel, for the life (or lack of it in him, looked honestly innocent which was undoubtedly at odds with his character.)

"No," he denied, more forcefully, "I intend to let you go." He paused, then considered Kerry with a superior look and a brash tone.

"Kerry, I don't need Vince to kill you. I could have done it myself."

"I'm sure you could have," Kerry mumbled lowly. Michel responded by giving her a sharp glare. Glancing back at Vince with his murderous glare made her cower more towards Michel.

"Michel," Vince's voice was harsh, "You can't let her go. The girl knows too much. Kill her and let's go!" he demanded forcefully. He took a step towards Kerry, in which Michel stepped right in front of her.

"Are you protecting her?" Vince asked shocked and surprised.

"She saved my life." Michel said in a forceful tone.

"I'd love to stay and chat on how you got your sunburns and your close call, but we have hunters on our ass. Kill the girl. Drain her. I don't care. She can not leave here alive."

"I intend to let her go." Michel growled.

"She knows too much! You don't know if she can't keep her mouth shut!" Vince tried to point out.

"I won't tell," Kerry said abruptly. They both looked at her, Michel having to turn around. They both glared; Michel's glare was demanding; Vince's was murderous, still. "Promise," she squeaked as they both just looked at her.
Michel looked almost wary of her, then sighed, "You're coming with us Kerry."

"NO!" Kerry demanded louder and more forceful than she meant it to be.

Michel glanced Vince's way and than back towards Kerry, "It's either that or I kill you." Michel made it so straightforward for her, THAT almost killed her.
"God Michel! I love how blunt you make that sound." Kerry waved her hands in the air to add to her sarcastic effect. Michel just looked slightly amused as he caught both of her hands with his firm grip.
"She's not coming," Vince said.
"Is too," Michel replied childishly, not taking his eyes off of Kerry.
Michel than pulled away physical and eye contact, turning back to Vince, "I have to set something up here."
Michel than clasped onto one of her hands and pulled her forward unexpectedly. He practically dragged her towards the stairs.
"Don't trust me with her?" Vince asked smugly.
"No I don't, Vince." Michel stated as a fact, "Not when you don't trust me."

Vince's smug laugh echoed as Michel pulled Kerry to the kitchen. Michel had Kerry's hand in a firm grip and kept it in that grip as he awkwardly winced to bend down and grab the gun laying on the floor. Kerry, catching on, bent down quicker than Michel's pace; but only because of his sunburns. Just as Kerry touched the gun with her fingertips, Michel clasped onto her wrist and pulled her down. Kerry stumbled downwards and hit the floor. Michel got the gun and stood again with Kerry sitting on the floor, looking up at him in shock. Michel acted overly cautious. He held his hand out to help her up with a smug smile on his face. She sighed as she took hold of his hand. As he pulled her to her feet, Kerry mumbled, "You don't trust me, do you?"

Michel just gave her an insincere laugh and gripped just one of Kerry's hands, with the gun in his other, facing downward. Michel than dragged Kerry down the basement. He grabbed a can of lighter fluid and a box of matches. Then it was back up the stairs.

Michel poured lighter fluid on some of the rugs and then lit some matches. After the flames died down, Michel just stared down one of the burnt rugs.

He had a firm grip on Kerry's hand, so when he didn't move or say anything, curiosity kicked in, "What?"
"I have an idea," he said in a neutral tone.
Then, silence.
"And that would be..." Kerry pushed.
He looked at her smugly, "You're not going to like it."

Kerry just looked at him, almost exasperated with him. When he didn't say anything, Kerry shifted nervously with her feet, "What is it?"
He gave her an insincere smile and pulled her towards the kitchen. He opened one of the drawers that was already halfway open. He pulled out a normal-sized steak knife.

"Michel," Kerry said worried, wanting to pull back, but her hand was practically attached to his, "What is that exactly for?"
He just looked at her and smiled smugly. He pulled Kerry back into the living room where the burnt rugs were at. When he put the knife against her arm, she screamed at him. Michel's face went from being amused to blank.

"I'm only going to spill a little. AND I'll even heal you when I'm done." he paused as he pulled the knife back towards Kerry's arm, "The police will believe for you to be either be injured or dead. But personally," he looked at her smugly, "I'm going for dead."

"Michel, please, no!" hissed Kerry, attempting not to scream and inadvertently draw the neighbor's attention, and not be sliced open at the same time as Michel also retracted some clear, plastic gloves from a nearby drawer before donning them.

Michel spared her a reproving look, and told her, "Kerry, you won't feel a thing. Close your eyes, if you must." Tossing her head repetitively in dissent, Kerry jammed her eyes closed tight and cringed in anticipation. With no sight, all Kerry could recognize was the suffocating smell of the smoke that had singed off the rugs and the feel of Michel grasping her arm, gently but firmly, as he contemplated over where to cut. As he skimmed the blade on the surface of her forearm, Kerry inhaled in pain as the stinging pang of a newly occurred slice increased. She peeked open an eye and Michel was staring at her inquisitively.

He shook his head, then pulled her through Marsala's house, stopping briefly repeatedly to press her arm to random objects to bloody them. The whole house had imprints of Kerry's blood, as well as her forearm and a new one on her wrist, before Michel was satisfied and came to a halt besides Marsala's corpse. Kerry studiously turned her attention elsewhere while Michel stared down at the perpetrator of Regina's murder. Marsala was limp, no breathing or heartbeat, and he was becoming paler and grey complexioned by the minute. Michel sideways glanced at Kerry, who was occupying herself was staring at the walls adored with framed pictures, and gave her a tug on the hand.

"Kerry," he said softly, "You'll have to look. I need you to put your blood on his shirt." Kerry steeled herself from one minute, then kneeled down beside the dead man and dripped her body onto the front of his shirt so she wasn't required to touch the corpse. Michel positioned the knife in Marsala's hand, careful to discern that he was indeed dead, and snapped off his gloves with an appeased expression.

Kerry stood up, looking away from the corpse mutely, and ventured towards the stairs where, at the bottom, Vince impatiently waited while tapping his foot before he suddenly jerked around.

Without warning, the front door burst open, and the wood exploded everywhere from the impact of a motorcycle crashing through it.