A/N: Okay, so I got the idea after reading Clez's "Crimson Kiss." That one is awesome. I've been toying with it for a little over a week…here it finally is. If you read it once already, read it again. . . I changed some stuff, I hope that it makes it better. I also tried to tie it up better. I hated the other ending. I may someday write a sequel, not sure about that though. I am very flattered that I got two reviews in the 48hours since I posted it, thank you. I hope that you guys enjoy the changes that I made. This is my first ever LXG fic, so please to be kind. . . Not my first fic though. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own LXG or any of the characters. I'm not sure who does. Sorry don't mean to step on anyone's toes.

Blood Lust

"Mina," a silken voice purred in a whisper that seemed to fill the corridor of the Nautilus, as Wilhelmina Harker took in a midnight stroll through the vast submersible ship. "Mina," the voice called again in a slow sing song way that instantly put her more on edge than she already kept herself.

"Who's there?" Her usually soft voice sounding as a shout in the empty corridor. "Mr. Skinner, if that's you lurking in the shadows playing a ghost, I will take great pleasure in throwing you over board the next time we surface." I sincerely hope that Mr. Skinner is the culprit behind that voice, she thought combing the corridor carefully with her vampire eyes in hopes of finding Rodney Skinner hiding just behind a corner with Special Agent Tom Sawyer tucked neatly behind him, both enjoying the joke they were playing.

Soft glow from the sconce lamps lighting the corridor was all the Mina found in her search for the ever cheeky Mr. Skinner and sometimes -and new found- partner in crime. No sounds of snickering or snorted laughter came from either end of the long passageway; silence greeted her throughout the hall. Watching her shadow standing tall against the wall of the passageway, Mina began to scold herself for such foolishness.

Ghosts, indeed. If there were such a thing, she had yet to come across one. Ghosts. Don't you have one you carry with you? she thought as she resumed her casual stroll through the corridors of the Nautilus.

"I'm hurt, Mina," the silken voice began anew the moment that her soft foot falls echoed around the empty passage, "you don't remember me."

"Who's there?" she asked allowing her voice to take a harsher tone than she had only a few moments before. This game was not in the least bit amusing to her. She had only ever known one man who had a voice that sounded as if it were made of the finest silk known to man, and he had been dead for a long time; longer than her beloved husband Jonathan.

"Dead yes," the voice continued as though it could read her very thoughts, "gone, no."

It cannot be. She thought making quick steps for her stateroom. We killed him.

She thought making quick steps for her stateroom.

Throwing the heavy door to her room open, Mina rushed in. Closing the door with speed more speed than she intended, Mina pressed herself into the metal door as though by leaning against the door she could keep the intrusive memories at bay. She was there when the Professor and Jonathan destroyed the monster of a man who'd stalked and haunted her, there was no way that he could've survived.

"I'm in you," the voice said, reading her mind again.

"No," she breathed, still holding fast to the frame of the door. "No."

"Yes, Mina," it echoed with a boom through her room--or was it her mind?

Yes it was. He was dead. Her mind was tricking her. . . playing a game in the late hours of the night. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Mina willed her muscles to relax and let go of the door frame she'd been pressing herself into. She had played these games with herself for the first year after that monster had been defeated. How Jonathan had stood for her behavior that first year, she did not know. She had barely escaped with her sanity let alone her soul. She spent the first few years after all that had happened to her and Jonathan making amends for all she had done while under his spell.

"Do give me more credit than that, Mina."

"All right," she said, pulling herself up to her full height and taking a stiff step away from the door she'd been guarding. "If you are him, what do you want?"

"More importantly I know what…should I say who you want."

"That's quite enough," she almost whispered as the voice continued to mock her.

"From that moment in Venice when you first touched him, you wanted him. No, not his body. You wanted his blood. Wanted to taste of his sweet essence and touch his soul. You wanted to bring him to the brink of death…to hold his very, meager life in the palm of your ever so delicate hands. You wanted to feel power. "

"No," she objected, her voice quivering as she spoke. That was not true. She could never harm someone just to feel powerful. He was no match for her. There would be no challenge in taking him. And what would she gain in harming a team mate--newly made friend. No, what the voice was telling her simply was not true.

"Is that why you walk the passage that runs past his room every night? Really, Mina, you must work on being a better liar."

"I do not lie."

"Ah, but you do. You want him even as we speak." It was wrong. The voice was wrong. She did not want him. He was just a boy. "Or perhaps you want him to be strong for you. His brashness appeals to you, Mina. It appeals to you more than Gray's experience did."

"No," she gasped, nearly bringing her slender hands up to her cover her open mouth.

"Do not deny it, Mina," the voice cooed, sounding as though the source of it were standing next to her speaking softly into her ear. "Go seek out his comfort. Make him shut out the voice that you cannot."

"I can't." She felt weak. She longed for her knees to buckle and the tears to flow, but she knew that it would not happen. Deny it though she tried, what the voice said was true. She did want to take him that night in Venice. Oh what his bravery would have tasted like that night. The sweet taste of his anger at Dorian for the betrayal, the rush of adrenaline from his brush with death would have been much sweeter than the salty mess of the men she'd sampled that night. Slowly her tongue slid across her rapidly drying lips at the memory of his disheveled blond locks still covered in dust from the building that he'd crashed the car into, and the small cut just above his right eye. She'd smelled it then-- the sweetness of his anger and valor.

"Go," the voice commanded. "Go to him. Taste him."

Pushing the voice's command out of her mind, Mina all but wrenched the sturdy door open and headed with purposeful steps toward his room. Seeing him was the only way to silence the torturous voice reverberating around her skull. It was the only way.

The voice was wrong, and going to him would prove that once and for all. How is that going to prove anything, Mina? she scolded herself harshly as she approached the passageway leading to the American's room. Seeing his young handsome face . . .leaving him alive with no marks after visiting him would be her proof.

No. . .before she could stop herself Mina brought her hand up and rapped on the door to room she'd been pacing by for a month. He's sleeping. She let a sigh escape her lips, as she began to back away from the closed door and the silence of the room on the other side.

"Wait," the silky voice said, halting her retreat. Coolly she watched as the door was slowly pulled open and a still sleepy Special Agent Tom Sawyer filled the frame. His green eyes still heavy with sleep and his blond locks falling in rebellious waves about his head.

She watched in cold horror as he licked his dry lips and ran a slim hand through his hair. "Mina?" he questioned softly, staring out from the blackness of his room to the beauty standing with her back nearly pressed into the metal wall of the dim hall. "Is everything all right?" She could hear the sleep clinging to his slightly dry voice, making his southern lilt seem thicker n it had before.

"Yes," she said quickly. "No…can I come in?" Her voice was shakier and faster than she thought possible.

Without a word, Tom smiled and stepped aside allowing her access to his room.

Quickly taking his invitation, Mina moved past him--breathing in his sweet scent as she went past. He was a mix of light sweat, confusion, disbelief and lust. "Go ahead, Mina, enjoy his scent. Enjoy his taste," the voice said as his scent brought a light smile to her reddening lips.

She could feel as every fiber in her being began to change. Her teeth began to sharpen and grow, despite her mental protests. She did not want him. He would be the same salty mess as those men in Venice. No he would be sweet. He would be tender.

"Mina?" Worry laced his voice as he stared hard through the dark of the room at his late night visitor. This was all that he'd ever wanted, but she didn't seem herself.

"I'm sorry," she breathed into his ear as she pulled him closer--a startled yelp was all that escaped the young man as she wrapped her arms around him.

"That's it, Mina, give in to me," the voice murmured through her head, as a low moan--growl--escaped Mina in her small struggle with the young man she'd come to visit.

"Shhh," she breathed, releasing an arm from around Tom's chest to cover his mouth--preventing him from crying out. Peeling herself away from him, slightly, Mina smiled at her young captive. Oh how sweet he will be, she thought, seeing the horror in his clear green eyes. Feeling the tips of her fangs against her lips, Mina understood what she saw in his expressive eyes. "Don't be frightened," she purred, pulling him in close to her again.

The warmth of his tender flesh was electric to her, as she slid her cool porcelain like cheek along the skin of his jaw. Barely suppressing a shutter of excitement, Mina gently began placing soft kisses down his neck.

He knew where this was going and what she was going to do; his ever quickening heart beat and intoxicatingly growing perfume of fear told her that he knew. Smiling a little more, she watched in silence as the blue vein in his that she'd been lusting after grew and bulged more.

"Mina, no!" he managed to scream into the palm of her slender hand.

She wanted to reassure him that it was all right; that she wouldn't kill him. All she wanted was a taste. Just a little taste, she thought lowering down closer to the pulsing blue line of sweet bliss that lay just beneath the delicate skin of Tom's neck. Quickly subduing his renewed efforts to free himself, Mina tipped his head to the side, allowing her greater access to her goal. Growling softly she sank her sharpened teeth into her young friend turned victim.

Tom's hand shot up instantly to pry himself away from Mina, or rather the monster she'd become, the second that her fangs bit deep into his flesh. A scream that the rest of the ship would sure to have heard, had it not been for Mina's smothering hand covering his mouth, ripped from Tom at the same moment.

Ignoring the rigid, unwilling body in her forceful grip Mina pulled Tom's warm essence from deep within him. It was pure sugar to her. . .no sweeter. The fear, betrayal, helplessness that he was feeling, it was sweeter to her than she ever had imagined. Slowly her tongue played the warm salty liquid across her lips and swirled it around her mouth before sending the wondrous fluid down her willing throat. Is this what he would've tasted like that night? she wondered, losing herself in the taste of Agent Sawyer. Eliciting a pained moan from the man she held fast in her arms, Mina pulled him ever closer to him. The sound of his ever slowing pulse filled her ears as she continued drinking of his sweet rare wine.

Feeling Tom's tensed body relax in her grip, Mina released her hand from his mouth, using it to cradle him closer to her. Supporting his head against her chest she could just feel the fabric of her dress begin to dampen. Playing another swallow of him around her lips, Mina knew that the substance saturating the front of her gown was his tears.

She had to stop. No, just one more swallow, one last taste.

As carefully as she'd entered him, Mina unsheathed her imposing fangs from the now abused flesh of Tom's neck. Licking the last bit of him from the tips of her glistening teeth, she stared down at the lax form in her arms. His pulse was weaker than she'd intended to leave it. Stroking a warmed hand against his tear stained face, she could feel how clammy he'd become. He was dying.

No, she thought firmly, shifting his body in her arms she lifted him up like a small child. Keeping his soft lean body close hers, Mina moved with haste to her room.

"You know how to save him, Mina," the silky voice said thick with desire.

With ease she laid the unmoving form of Agent sawyer on top of the quilt that adorned her bed. Every breath that his lungs attempted to draw caused him to wince in pain.

It'll be all right, she thought leaving his side for a moment. Quietly Mina retrieved a cutting tool from her workspace. Bringing the instrument to the now warm pink flesh of her wrist, Mina pulled it hard and fast through the skin making a thin line of crimson blood appear instantly. With a tear in her eye, Mina brought her wrist over Tom's slightly gaped mouth while her other hand slipped behind his head and brought it up to meet her freely seeping wound.

She could feel his tongue make a tentative sweep of the blood on her wounded wrist, and then move more eagerly across the edge of the now sensitive skin. She smiled at the strength that he was regaining, as his hands made shaky contact with her small arm.

Closing her eyes, Mina willed him to take more.

Beneath her wrist, Mina felt him smile for a brief second before he sank is newly formed teeth deep into the flesh of her arm. Hissing in pleasurable pain, Mina opened her bluing eyes and watch the boy suckling at her wrist. A mournful growl escaped her as she watched him claim his new life. He would never be the same again. He would always fight the lust. He would forever be bombarded with the intoxicating scent of fear, misguided trust and always be left wanting more.

Weakness beginning to take her, Mina pushed Tom away from her wrist.

A thick silence filled the room. Mina sat on the edge of the bed and watched Tom lay still on it. Slowly he opened his green eyes and rolled his head to stare at her. A small fire of anger burned there as he stared at her. She didn't blame him for his anger. She'd felt the same when Dracula had claimed her all those years ago.

"Why?" his voice was thick, horse and accusatory.

"I am so truly sorry, Tom. I. . ." what words were there to explain to him why she'd taken him after promising herself that she wouldn't touch any member of the League.

"What happens to me now?"

His question broke what was left of her heart. What was there for him now? He could never go back to who or what he was before? She'd never been able to, though she did try. Damn you woman, she reprimanded herself harshly. Where was he to go now? She stared at him. You at least had Jonathan to help and pull you back. Who did he have? You stole him, you broke him and now you have to put him back together. Squaring her shoulders Mina pushed aside her guilt and grief over what she'd done to her young friend and said stoutly, "you stay with me."

"Mina," he whispered, a small smile etching across his ashen face.

"Shh, rest now." She bent down and placed a warm kiss on his forehead. "There'll be time to learn and be angry later."

The End