AN: Mad props to the Co-Creator and Ideas Smith for this little story, naynay1963

Little known fact: mosquitos fucking love vampires. If I go a while without feeding they'll start to leave me alone but the instant I find a fresh victim it's like Bam! Fucking dinner's up for the flying fiends from hell. Maybe it's the mix of vampire and human blood that attracts them; some additional chemical or heat that I don't understand. Maybe the mozzies just love a chance to drink from their own kind. Filthy little freaks.

With that in mind you might wonder what the hell I'm doing in New Orleans or Louisiana for that matter. I know I'm wondering that. Twenty goddamn years in this hell hole and for what? Quinn thinks the pack is safer here. We're hiding in plain sight. Anne Rice did us a solid by turning our reality(or some white catholic bitch's version of it) into fiction. Now if people see us and suspect something they usually think we're just fans that take ourselves a little too seriously.

Whatever the reasons, they aren't mine and now I'm leaving. I'm sick of the bugs, I'm sick of my pack mates and most of all I'm sick to (ironic)death of the temptations. They're everywhere. These blonde, blue eyed, chocolate treats on legs. They're my weakness and I swear every year there's some kind of mass migration of Norwegians or some shit into New Orleans and into my immediate vicinity.

I've been trying to keep kosher for the last few years(if I had to guess I'd say 23 years?). You know, no humans if I can help it. I mean, sometimes I buckle and get a rasher of bacon(read: blonde tourist) for my breakfast instead of my usual animal blood but I've mostly stayed on track.

It's the 'mostly' that I hate. That last girl I killed is the final straw. She was just cute as a button; eighteen, blonde, crystal blue eyes and a hot body I just couldn't walk away from. Staying here with a pack of vamps that hunt freely and without remorse is not something I can do anymore. I want something else in my life and I can't get that here. I have to leave the pack. I have to leave her.

My maker Quinn Fabray, who will always love me; who always has loved me is terrible for my self control. She just pushes all of my buttons and always has done. She can make me do anything. Everything, except love her back. No matter how I break and bend under her will, even under her thrall she can't create emotions in me that were never there.

"You can't keep me here Quinn. I'm not your possession." My chest is heaving, even if I don't need the oxygen. It's a habit from a life I left so long ago, to breath heavily when I'm upset.

"You'll always be mine Santana." Quinn points into my chest for emphasis. "That's the point."

I shake my head, tears of frustration in my eyes. We've had this conversations more times in the past 23 years than I can count; more times in the past three hundred years than I can even fathom.

Quinn just keeps at me, every word punctuated by an insistent tug at our connection. I feel every word of my Sire pull at the eternal ache in my heart. "You leave now, you know we'll just have to follow you."

I try to laugh. "Well I do have that animal magnetism."

"This isn't a joke, San."

"It should be. Haven't you had enough of me rejecting you yet?" I try to joke but everything about her draws me to her and makes me recoil at the same time.

"You can't reject what's in your nature," she spits out with all the spite I recognise from the centuries we've spent together. "You belong to me, not yourself. You're nothing on your own." Quinn's eyes become cold and hard as she watches me finally act on the decision that will rip apart our pack.

I turn my back on her for the last time. "I won't be seeing you again. Please, if you care at all just…"

"Just what? Remember to come get you when you fail at your little experiment?" She's getting desperate. I guess she never thought I'd finally follow through with this.

"Leave me be okay?" I heave my oversized duffle higher on my shoulder and look back at her.

Quinn is pissed. I've finally, completely rejected her. "You can't stay away forever," she shouts after me. "You know that. Even if I have to drag you back here by your hair, kicking and screaming, we'll be together again."

A shudder runs through me hearing my maker's anger. I can't stop though. I need this. I can't keep on like I have any more. I need more than this existence. I needs a life; my own life.

{S&B}

"You don't have to go Brittany. It's not too late to call and tell them you changed your mind. You can stay here with me." Scott's voice is getting that high, whiney quality that I've come to absolutely hate in the last couple of months. I wonder if his balls actually recede in the moments his voice reaches that high.

"I can't just cancel. This is everything that I've been working towards my whole career. You know that better than anybody." I keep gathering up the last of my things and checking everything off my list.

I suppose Scott could send me anything that I leave behind but I'd honestly prefer to just never have to deal with him after this. I triple check my list; I need to make sure my disconnect from Lima is as complete as possible. Even Mom is moving to Florida at the end of the year with her new sexy-times-fellow so with any luck I won't even have to come back to Ohio ever again.

"You know I'll miss you Beetle-Bum. And the dogs aren't going anywhere are they?" There's that ball-break again. How this guy ever got into my pants, let alone my life, I'll never know.

"Wolves." I correct automatically. "And they're nearly extinct so actually yeah they are going somewhere."

I can't help but wonder what would happen if I actually kicked him in the nuts at the same time that he's whining. It would be awesome but I wouldn't want all the dogs in the neighbourhood to get freaked out and start barking. Mr Boots, the Shitzu next door would most definitely be upset with me.

I sigh in relief as the last thing is ticked off and I can zip up my bag. I check the Daisy Duck watch on my wrist. Daisy's looking pretty uncomfortable with one arm pointed at the 4 and the other a little past the 5. I chuckle as always at her posture since it always seems Daisy has to pee at twenty past five. Then I remember my flight time and realise I'm running late.

{S&B}

Alaska is of course as far from Louisiana as I could get without technically leaving the country. Sure it would have been easier to just go to Canada(I can make Visas happen if need be obviously) but they have that whole killing baby seals thing that I just can't deal with so… Alaska. There's perks of course. For most of the year it's frozen and dark enough for so much of the time that I can just kinda wander around. I can keep a low profile and even appear human for a while.

I think it will be good for me to be human for a bit. Keep me on the straight and narrow and all that shit. I've set up an account with the tub of lard that is the local butcher. I had to get persuasive in my own way but nobody else needs to know that do they. Not even the butcher. For now all that matters is that I have a healthy, steady supply of pig's blood and occasionally veal for when I'm over that swiney after burn. None of it really compares to human blood but it'll do. I've subjected my body and my tastebuds to worse things. Especially when I was human.

Keeping up the human colour and human image is important since I'm holding down an actual job now. Me, an actual real life fucking paid job. Who'da thought it right. I guess the 18 months I spent just existing without my Pack got old pretty fast. The oil rig that employs me runs all night and day, pumping hard(wanky). I'm kinda the muscle now. I rocked up in December when half the normal crew had fled for warmer jobs down South and made my demands. Again, I had to get persuasive to pull the job but only cause all the men in charge are sexist fucks who wouldn't even give me the chance.

Now I'm just one of the boys and they don't even think twice about it. Except for when I have to strip down cause of the heat coming off the machines. Yeah, vampires sweat too. I guess my body still needs some kinda temperature control even if there's no actual organ maintenance going on. I try not to think about it too much. For the most part it helps me look more human when I sweat. Plus it's sexy as hell, even if I do say so myself. I mean, come on. I'm a hot latina with great boobs and a rocking, toned body. Picture that covered in dirt and sweat and oil…yeah, exactly. Plus unlike the unwashed miscreants that I work with, I don't smell. I just glisten.

It's only been three months but I'm starting to see a pattern to my day(it's interesting cause I've never had any structure before). I read at night, emerge for work during the day, get blind rotten drunk with the boys and then go to pass out in my own bed like the rest of them do. It's not the most satisfying existence but it works for me.

{S&B}

The one Bed and Breakfast in town is that creepy kind with too many cats. Like, I love cats but when there's already at least four live cat's running around, why is the playful kittens wallpaper needed? Why are all the pillows and throws cat related? Why, oh why is every cupboard decoupaged with yet more cats? It's insane, and not in the good way.

Two days isn't quite enough time for me to become desensitised to the cats and I'm actually worried about the day that I don't even notice the excess of cat decorations. I'm thinking that it's a good thing that I'll be spending eighty percent of my waking hours with wolves. The subspecies of gray wolf that inhabits this area is no more aggressive or masculine than any other but it's gotta be better than all the cats.

"I still like you though Tubbs." I scratch under Lord Tubbington's chin. He must have been tuned in to my less than sympathetic thoughts toward felines. "You're the most noble of all these other animals that's for sure."

Lord Tubbington purrs his agreement.

"I should get out though right?" I ask him seriously. "I should go out and meet new people or something?"

Lord Tubbington's approval is tacit but clear.

"You're absolutely right. If nothing else, then I need to go out if I'm going to get laid at any point in the next two years."

I sigh, trying not to think of my twenty-four months in this little town as a negative thing. I'm here with a purpose and a mission and even a decent pay check for a change. I can't be feeling sorry for myself at only two days in.

Lord Tubbington looks very displeased that I stopped rubbing his fur.

"Don't look at me like that. It'll be better with a few drinks. And I'll be tracking down the wolves tomorrow. I get to learn all their names and record descriptions and characteristics. Doesn't that sound like a blast?"

Lord Tubbington lets out a jaw cracking yawn then proceeds to lift one leg and lick dramatically at his crotch.

"Well, I think it's fun." I pout at him but since he's clearly done with this conversation I go get myself ready. I've heard the Pig Swill Tavern goes off on a Saturday night.

{S&B}

Puck lets out a dramatic sigh when he sees me, "Always a miserable fucking waste when I see you dressed up like this, Lopez. A chick as hot and fuckable as you and you're only down with the taco?"

I roll my eyes and slap at his chest. "Eye's are up here Fuckerman," I say pointing at my face.

He whines pathetically as he finally pulls his eyes from my chest. He's not a bad sort really. He even opens the door for me.

"Ungh! The things I could do to that ass!"

Idiot.

I smirk at him over my shoulder. "You think about touching me again tonight Puck and I will break your pinky."

Puck raises his arms above his head. "I'll be good, honest. I got plenty a wood just with looking Lopez, cause Damn you got that fine—"

"Jesus, let it rest would ya?" I nudge him with my shoulder as he catches up to me on our path to the Pigs Swill.

He's an idiot and I could snap him like a twig(chances are I'll end up breaking his pinky) but it's nice having something like a friend among the humans. I haven't had a human friend in a long time.

"You aiming to score tonight? You've been almost three months you know. You gotta have your eye on someone right? I mean it doesn't even matter if they're straight right. Cause you got all a this working for you." He gestures to my general physical self.

I laugh, wiggling my eyebrows in a way he can take as he pleases. The truth is that for all that I dress up on nights like these, for all that I look like I'm on the prowl with my tight, short dress, leather fuck-me boots and jacket it's actually the opposite that's true. I aim to look like a player so that no one will try and play me. I look like I have my choice of anyone in the bar which means I can chose to leave alone. I can be close to peoplewithout being available to a single person. It's perfect. It's safe. Safe for everyone.

{S&B}

I actually flat out laugh when I get inside the bar. It's just a hokey as I'd expected and I love it. I know I'll be telling the wolves about it tomorrow. Wolves always have the best laughs. There's one long bar with a row of stools in front of it. Every one is filled with patrons. Some are drunk, some are flirting, some are all kinds of desperate. Some are all three. The most important thing though is that there is a half decent sound system, a passable DJ and a reasonable dance floor. More than I need to get my boogie on.

Step back Bitches I think, only wishing I'd ever say it out loud. I am the hottest dancer in here. I can already feel it and it's usually true. I make a beeline for the bar anyway. An icebreaker can only help after all.

"What are you after?" the bartender asks, his eyes roving up and down my torso.

I resist the urge to chuckle since I'm not exactly wearing anything very nice or even revealing. It's pretty damn cold outside and I'm not ready to let go of my jacket yet even if it is warm inside.

"I think I need something warm and alcoholic." I cringe inwardly, just waiting for the smart ass that's going to take that for an opening. I seriously didn't mean anything by it but…

"I think you just just described me to a T." A guy with a ginger mullet has his arms around me.

"I don't know you," I point out.

"Yeah but wouldn't you like to?"

"Fuck no." The words slip out before I can stop them.

Mullet kid looks decidedly offended. "You little—"

"Get fucking gone Nelson. She obviously isn't interested in pale little gingers with unfortunate haircuts." A new guy arrives and he at least is a bit nicer to look at. Even if he is wearing a member of the Sciuridae family on his head.

"Puckerman," Mohawk guy extends his hand toward me in introduction.

It takes me another beat before I realise he's offering me his name as well as his blackened hand.

"Brittany," I finally return, grasping his hand.

Puckerman grins as he squeezes my hand. He only holds on a moment longer than necessary which I'm grateful for. His hands are warn and more than a little rough. Looking him over I can only guess that he must work on the oil rig that this town is essentially set up to support. I ask him as much and he grins as though glad that I picked it straight away.

"It was the guns wasn't it." He says.

I look down to his waist but can't see any weapons.

Puckerman laughs, "Oh yeah, these babies barely get through airport security." He lifts his arms and kisses one bicep then the other.

He's talking about his arms as guns…

Idiot.

The bartender saves me from having to answer as he finally brings me my shot.

"What is it?"

He doesn't answer just winks at me and refuses to let me pay when I ask him how much. I take my shot without complaint, satisfied regardless of an explanation.

I throw it back and then shake my head back in a loose semblance of a howl. It's not a voluntary response. It's just the burn that runs through me demands a proper tribute. It feels like liquid heat and tastes like cinnamon. It's awesome.

I ask for another shot and then Puckerman orders a whole tray. The bartender winks at me and now I know why I got the free drink. Sometimes it pays to be the only hot, blue eyed blonde for a thousand miles. Although the guy behind the bar is doing alright for himself.

I down my second shot, further savouring the burn. I look over Puckerman again. His arms are bare and his muscles twitching as he makes an obvious effort to keep them tensed at all times. All I really care about is the fact that he can't possibly have gotten here without a jacket yet all he's wearing now is a tshirt. I ask him where the coat check is and when he points out a small windowed office at the other end of the room. I leave him without a backward glance.

{S&B}

For some reason Puck brought over a tray of the girlyest shots ever. Okay, maybe not ever but the girlyest shot I've had the displeasure of consuming in a while. It tastes like cinnamon for fucks sakes. Like, a sweet spice you use in deserts. But whatever cause it's hella alcoholic, Puck is buying and that's the only two things I care about.

"What the hell possessed you to buy this monstrosity?" I ask him going in for my fourth shot from the tray.

"Not what. Who. Is the question that will bring your answer to the place that you want to know the question which is your thing… you wanted to know." He blinks at me blearily. Apparently this stuff hit him pretty hard.

"Okay, so who is the answer to my question which is the why for the drinks that is the ones that you brought here for us. Just now." Apparently I'm a little drunk as well. And this stuff we're drinking is actually pretty fine.

Puck gestures toward the bar then looks confused. "She was right there only a minute ago." He looks back to our tray of drinks which is almost empty. "Or, I guess it was a little—Ooh wait, that's totally her. Cute little blonde."

Oh no. I try to scoff. "There's no blondes for another six towns Puck. Definitely not cute—" and then I see her.

A gorgeous blonde is out on what passes for a dance floor getting all kinds of grind up on three different people. At the same time. There's a couple that I recognise as the husband and wife who run the one gas station in town. The third is the boobalicious brunette I'd indulged in when I'd first moved to town.

The blonde moves in a way that puts every other person in the room to shame. She shines so brightly and moves so fluidly that everyone else moves with all the charisma of a flat, sunbaked roadkill in comparison.

She turns on the spot, hips swaying and arms coming up over her head. Her eyes are closed as she feels the music in the bar like it's swirling around her. I swear I can almost see it. Her eyes slide open and she immediately locks onto me.

Fuck.

"I have to go," I say to no one in particular.

"What?" Puck plutters. "But we just got—ooooh." The sound he lets out is so knowing I can finally pull my eyes away from the dancing, blonde goddess.

"What, Puck?"

"That's your type?" he asks incredulously.

I can't even deny it. This bloodlust, hell this lust is so deeply ingrained in me that there's nothing else I can do. "She's everyone's type Puckerman. Look at her."

"Oh, I'm looking." His eyes rove over the girl who's still eye sexing me from across the room.

I have to resist the urge to rip his throat out for looking at her. If I indulged in that particular impulse I'd have to rip out the throats of every other person in the room.

"Name's Brittany," Puck informs me.

Yeah that fucking helps. Of course she would have an adorably blonde sounding name. I slam down another shot from the tray and get up to leave. The Siren is dancing between me and the coat check so I guess I'll be going home without my jacket. I can't get any closer to her if I want to leave without her blood on my tongue.

Puck just can't take a hint. "Come on Lopez, you can't just leave without—"

The snap of his pinky as I pull his hand from my ass is mildly satisfying. I'm not sure if he actually meant to grab me but with My Temptation still staring into my (questionable)soul I can't really care. I warned him not to touch me.

"I'm out," I say spinning on the spot and moving straight to the door. I might move a little faster than a human should in the crowded space but I can't care. Even amongst all those other hot, sweaty, thrusty warm bloods I swear I can smell her.

{S&B}

"Okay Cornish, I know you want to be the big man some day but fighting with your mother isn't going to help anything. Liza know's what's best." I kneel in front of the young male with a blonde streak down his side.

I'm pretty sure he's listening to me. He usually does, even if he chooses to ignore sound advice. He licks the side of my face and it makes me laugh. He's just trying to distract me but that's okay. I need to get back to recording anyway. I brought my camera and laptop out here for a reason. I'm not gonna risk all this expensive equipment without results.

It took me a solid week to get the pack to accept me being around them. That's slower than I'd like and it was a little disheartening when they'd automatically distrusted me but they came around eventually. I've always been good with animals. I can talk with them and understand them. Not in words of course but we have a certain connection. I can usually bond with even the surliest of critters.

Wolves are my favourite obviously. Which is why after I graduated from my veterinary sciences degree I went ahead and got my PHD on the back of a dissertation on conservation sciences. The fact that I barely graduated high school didn't even slow me down. None of my professors or prac supervisors even knew about my learning disability or the fact that I had to take so many extra credit courses to get into college. All they cared about was whether I got a handle on the material. And since the material was about animals and not a bunch of wars or cooking or anything else I couldn't care about, I was set.

Cornish wanders off to play with his sister Patricia, leaving me to unpack my bag. I've set up a kind of picnic table to keep everything off the ice. I really can't afford to replace another laptop and the University only gives me a budget for one a year. For better or worse the sturdy little machine I've carried into the woods has to last me the rest of the year. One month down and another eleven to go.

I double check the dates as I open a new document to catalogue my images as I take them. I've been running with these wolves for 5 weeks now. It's the most fun I think I've ever had. I document everything I can. If I thought I could do it without dying from exposure I'd sleep out here with them. When things warm up over summer I'll probably camp out in a tent but for now I always have to make the trek back into town before full dark settles in.

I turn on my camera and fiddle with the settings until I'm reasonably confident they're about right.

"Okay puppies, now be good for me and don't go licking the lens no matter how tasty it might look."

{S&B}

God I'm hungover. I've taken to drinking at home since the night I saw that blonde; since the night I saw Brittany. The upside to drinking at home is that I'm not tempted by anyone. The downside is that I don't need to stop drinking in time to stumble back to my own bed. I can just keep drinking until I pass out.

This means that even with my vastly superior metabolism I can actually wake up with a headache and a craving for hot things. It's such a human ailment that I'm actually torn between kinda loving it and being utterly disgusted with myself. A month of nightly binges has left me feeling strangely lethargic and a little broke. I also seriously need to get out of here and kill something.

Lucky for me my day off is a snow day, or it's meant to be. So far it's just cloudy with a chance of snowfall. I can go out and hunt without worrying about totally covering up. I can handle the cold better than the heat which means I can go run through the snow in a t shirt and sweats without freezing. As a vamp it's one of the best feelings—outside of feeding and sex—to have the frozen wind caressing my skin. There might also be a little bit of a rush from the danger of running around in the day with only a shifting layer of cloud between me and the charring sun.

I check out my small window to make sure the street is clear. I don't need to gain any kind of reputation for strange behaviour here. Who knows if they aren't secretly hoping for a chance to pull out their pitchforks and bag themselves a beastie. Walking around in a t-shirt and bare feet in the piling snow is one way to gain all the wrong kinds of attention.

I shake out my arms and legs at my door. I haven't tried for a burst of speed in a while. If I don't stretch first I'm screwed. I twist my torso and stretch out my arms. Balancing easily on one leg I bend the other backwards until I can grab it over my shoulder. Then the other way, using the door to brace against.

I look around my empty little apartment. I acknowledge the mess of empty bottles and general unkeptness but otherwise ignore it. I'm so not cleaning today. Today I'm running with some damn wolves.

{S&B}

I transfer the bulk of my files from my camera to the laptop then shut the whole thing down. It'll be getting dark soon and I don't want the wolves running off on me without a chance to keep up. It's hard with the equipment on my back but not impossible when they're just prowling. That's something I don't necessarily share with the other researchers. When they ask how I can possibly track a pack so far I just give them my most vacant smile and tell them I follow my nose.

The truth is I don't just track or follow the wolves. I run with them. It shouldn't be possible. Maybe if I was an olympic athlete or someone who trained for years it would seem normal but I'm not. I'm just little old me. And little old me can run as fast as any wolf. It's fun and totally threw me for a loop the first time I really put myself into the chase.

The first time it happened, I was tracking a pack through the rockies and they caught the scent of a doe on her own. I chose to follow them on the hunt and I found that I was actually running with them. It was absolutely exhilarating. I don't have any explanation for it but, honestly I don't need one. It's just another really cool thing I have with the animals I love.

Before I can get the bag onto my back Lucifer jumps me, knocking me over into the snow with a happy yip.

"Why you lousy little trickster," I laugh as he steps back with his tail waging furiously behind him.

I take up a defensive position as I lean forward with my hands in front of me. If he wants to wrestle, I'll wrestle.

"Come on kid, make it worth my while. Ten bucks says I pin ya in five."

Lucifer grins his wolf grin.

{S&B}

I can smell the wolf pack nearby. I'm pretty sure they've been chilling in the same spot for a while. They might have a kill too. There's some other scent in amongst the familiar ones that I don't recognise. I haven't run with them in a few months but I don't think there could be any puppies.

I pick up the pace, loving that icy wind in my hair and rushing past the bare skin of my arms. My toes dig into the snow and I take a few longer leaps, even swinging between a few branches of the trees above me before reconnecting with the ground. That's something I definitely couldn't do in Louisiana.

As I get closer to the pack the different smells become clearer. I realise with a jolt that one of them is human. I've never seen or smelt a human among the pack before. How is that even possible. Did they find someone? Did someone find them?

I hear a bark and then a woman's scream. It's almost a yelp of what I can only assume is panic. I forget my playing instantly, running as fast as I can toward the sounds and smells of the pack surrounding one defenceless woman.

{S&B}

I giggle as Lucifer gets the upper hand, yelping in surprise as he nips playfully at me. I can almost feel the exasperation of Lucifer's mom Liza as she watches her pup play roughhouse with the human. It just makes this that much more entertaining.

I feel the wind get knocked out of me as he gets another good hit in and I'm on my back on the ground. Suddenly there is a yelp and Lucifer is gone from my chest. I scramble to my feet expecting to see one of the others coming to take over the fight but instead I find a girl.

It's the one from the bar. I'd spotted her hotness immediately that night. I'd never expected anyone as incredible as her to be in that shitty bar or even the town for that matter. I've barely caught glimpses of her coming in and out town with the riggers yet here she is standing between me and Lucifer in what can only be described as a defensive crouch. A feral growl is coming from her that makes goosebumps rise on the back of my neck. It's totally wild, ferocious and completely inappropriate.

Lucifer looks a little confused and hurt. His mother and the rest of the pack are circling around behind him and it makes me feel tense with worry. No one needs to be hurt.

The Wild Girl looks even more feral than the dogs do. Her hair is a tangle of windswept strands. The bottoms of her sweatpants are soaked from the snow above her bare feet and her back is somehow drenched with sweat. She must be freezing but she's certainly not showing any signs of it.

The growling stops as she turns to look at me. Her eyes go wide as she sees me. "Brittany? What are—run."

"Wait how do you know my name?"

"Really? This is what you—"

Liza shifts so she's standing in front of her pup, the hackles raising on the back of her neck. If The Wild Girl had hackles I'm sure hers would be up to. This is getting out of hand.

"Wait, don't—" I take a step forward and put my hand on the girl's arm. She's just as cold as I'd expect and I wonder if she can feel me at all.

Apparently she can because she flinches from my touch only to press her arm to my stomach to hold me back. "Go now. I won't be able to hold them all off for that long."

I huff out a sigh. "Okay that's enough," I say loud and clear so that there are no misunderstandings. "No one is holding off, no one is biting andeveryone needs to stop growling." I take several deliberate steps around The Wild Girl putting myself between her and Liza's pack.

The wolves' growling cuts off almost immediately as the group goes back to whatever it was they were doing while Lucifer and I were still playing. The girl on the other hand is much more difficult to pacify.

"What are you doing?" her anger is redirected toward me, though she keeps eyeing the wolves warily.

She's nervous and I guess I can understand that since we are kind of surrounded by animals that are quite capable of being vicious killers. Except Lucifer maybe. He's such a sweety.

This girl on the other hand has some explaining to do. "What are you doing out here? Don't you know what they could have done to you?"

"To me?" she splutters. "To m—Are you serious right now? They could still rip you to pieces." She points toward the nearest animal as though to prove her point. Unfortunately the nearest animal is Lucifer who sits happily by my feet and takes that moment to lean in and lick my hand.

I smirk. "Yeah, vicious killers just waiting to rip my throat out."

"Exactly, and you, you're just…um…Hmm." She trails off awkwardly. Her back finally straitens and she crosses her arms over her chest with the most adorable pout I think I've ever seen.

She's still unbelievably sexy(what, it's only cause I have eyes). The wild woman look works just as well for her as the little black dress and boots did. I lean in to pull a twig out of her hair with one hand while the other brushes some stray dirt from her shoulder. I try not to take it personally when she flinches away from both my hands. I can only assume that she's a little skittish. That would be understandable I guess.

"Who are you?" I don't mean it to come out so blunt but hey, I've spent the last five weeks talking to wolves, what can you expect. "And what are you doing all the way out here? Oh, and your feet. Aren't you freezing?" Apparently my bluntness comes in threes now.

All my questions seem to make her pull up short. "I—I'm no one important." her eyes are so sad, they make my heart ache for this beautiful stranger.

"Someone who'd step between me and a pack of wolves seems like someone to me," I say gently. How does someone even go from vicious defender to a mousy reserve so quickly. I need to understand this.

She tries to shrug like it's no big deal, a scowl marring her expression. "A pack of puppy dogs apparently."

"But you didn't know that."

"It doesn't matter—"

"It matters to me." I cut her off firmly. "Today you're my hero and every damsel should know the name of her rescuer." I let my voice go high and breathy toward the end like a fainting disney princess.

The girl's determined scowl flickers slightly at the edge and her crossed arms finally relax a little.

I hold out one hand. "You already know my name beautiful stranger. It's fair for me to know yours."

{S&B}

I try not to let her words effect me. I need to leave now. I need to leave before I rip her throat out. I mean, it wouldn't be that hard to dispose of the body. I really would't even have to since she apparently likes to keep wolves as company. Well, I do to but I can take care of myself. This girl is… well she's something else.

And she called me beautiful.

Despite every logical part of my brain demanding my immediate departure I find myself still in front of her, still breathing in her scent and for some ungodly reason about to give her my name.

"Santana Lopez," I say, taking her warm hand in mine.

Her eyes go wide at the contact. My hand must be a similar temperature to the snow right now. Why would I touch her? I'm not some babyvamp that can't work out how to pass. It's too late now though. Brittany spins away from me and dashes to a backpack lying on a boulder a short distance away.

I chase after her just in case she has something dangerous in that bag. I don't know what could be dangerous to me but you know, just in case. And it has nothing with me wanting to stay close to her. At all. She pulls out an expensive looking camera and pushes aside a laptop in her hunt, eventually coming back up with a tightly rolled, fleece blanket.

I sigh. "I don't actually need—"

"Shit!" she shouts out in surprise. "How did you…?" she trails off looking back to the spot where she thought she'd left me.

I curse myself for yet another rookie mistake. I moved too quickly and too silently to be human.

Brittany's eyes travel over my body again. I honestly can't decide whether she's checking me out or just double checking that I'm definitely there and definitely real. It's possibly a bit of both. I know I got the vibe from her that night at The Pig Swill. In three hundred years I've developed a pretty finely tuned gaydar and this girl is definitely pinging.

Brittany unravels the blanket with a hurried flick as her eyes get to my bare feet and she remembers that she's trying to get me warm not ogle me. I can't seem to move. I'm stuck to her and I don't know how to get loose.

"Stand still," she says unnecessarily.

Suddenly she is so very close. Her breath is on my cheek and her arms go around me as she wraps the blanket tightly around my shoulders. I'm surrounded by her and I don't know what to do. Twenty something years ago I would have drank her dry by now. Twenty something years ago I wasn't in Alaska trying my best to not eat people.

Brittany rubs at my arms and studies my face. I have to wonder what I look like. I can imagine there would be a certain level of panic and maybe confusion visible.

"I'm just gonna try… Don't freak out okay?" Brittany's voice is low and calming.

I don't know what she's going to try but I suspect it can't be anything that's going to be good for her health.

It's not.

Brittany pulls me closer to her until she can circle her arms around me. She invades my personal space and presses herself against me. She holds me in her arms so there isn't a part of my body that isn't in contact with hers. She's trying to warm me up. It's sweet really. Her hands run up and down my back to generate friction heat and maybe even to sooth me. My posture is so stiff against her.

I can't relax, I remind myself. I need to get out of here and go back to my apartment where I can down a bag of pig's blood then drink myself into an alcohol induced stupor to forget about this amazing, beautiful, caring and spirited girl who smells just so damn wonderful.

I let my head turn just a little so I can breath in the smell of her hair. Underneath is the heavenly scent of her warm skin, her hot blood. I keep repeating three little words in my head the whole time, over and over again.

Don't. Eat. Her.