Tribulations

by mscatmoon

Sequel to Half Breed. Mick and Beth face even more challenges on the road to eternity. Nothing is ever quite what it seems, and there are no coincidences in the universe...

1. Resurrection

AN: Sequel to Half Breed. Summary: Mick and Beth honeymoon in Alaska. Of course, they just can't avoid getting involved in a case while there… Here's my wedding present to Mick. :kiss: Buckle your seatbelts folks; it's going to be a bumpy ride…

Cast of characters: Yeah, it just so happens for this story I've got these images in my head of what some of the characters look like, so I thought I'd share with y'all. Randy -- looks a little like one of the Darryls from Newhart. Doc Haliday -- old creepy looking undertaker from some movie or TV show. I can see him in my mind's eye, but I don't remember who or where. Shane -- Bret Michaels of Poison.

Tribulations

By Cat Moon

Chapter One:

Resurrection

I once said that when you live forever, the past catches up with you. Sometimes, though, you catch up with the past. "Don't let the past remind us of what we are not now…." Don't quote me on that one though; I stole it from Crosby, Still and Nash. Or was that Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young? Amazing song. Life is amazing, even undead life. As you get older and wiser you realize that the horror and pain exist right alongside the joy and happiness. If you're lucky you experience more of the latter than the former, but you can't escape it. In fact, it's the pain that makes the pleasure so sweet. If you don't know the darkness, you can't appreciate the light. My light is Beth. The darkness is no match for her love. It finds all my dark places and erases the shadows. When I can't find the strength to have faith in myself, her faith will carry me through. My soul mate.

My wife.

XXX

Beth looked at Mick. Mick looked back. Beth looked at the door. She waited. He shifted almost nervously. Beth looked at Mick again.

Beth nodded toward the doorway in front of them. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to sweep me off my feet."

"I thought I did that a long time ago," he said, but he obligingly picked her up in his arms, luggage also slung over his shoulder.

"Show off," she commented as he carried her over the threshold.

Mick raised one eyebrow at her as he put her and the bags down and kicked the door shut. "That's not showing off," he answered, advancing on her as she playfully backed away. "This is showing off." Using vamp speed, he had her pinned against the wall with his body before she could take another breath…

It shouldn't have ended there. Hindsight is 20-20 of course. He'd seen the fatigue around her eyes and mouth; he was in need of some rejuvenation himself, it had been a long night and it was nearing dawn (well, if dawn was came at the normal time in Alaska). So he'd suggested they both get some rest, and officially start their honeymoon later. The fact that she agreed told him he was right about how tired she was. It turned out to be the only thing he was right about. Too bad he didn't know himself as well as he knew Beth.

Seemed like a good idea at the time. Road to hell, and all that. Good intentions.

XXX

Coraline and blood. So much blood. White sheets now red, pretty white wedding dress with grotesque splatters in a random pattern fit for some obscene Rorschach test. It's running down the walls, and I can feel it in my hair, and running down my body like rain. It never rains in California, but baby it pours. And it's pouring down me now. Blood, tears, sweat, semen. Some things you run out of, never to make again. Others return, refusing to let you go, reminding you of your lost humanity. And the rest…the rest you borrow, buy, or steal. Monster, creature. Killer. A thousand horrible images from movies and books, flashing in my mind like a neon sign, except there are no neon signs yet. Damned. What did I do that was so horrible, what sin did I commit to deserve this fate? Someone… someone has to tell me…

Coraline?

Confused, I stared wildly around, trying to make sense of the unreality. There's no way to explain how it feels to be blissfully happy one moment, and filled with horror the next. Unless you've been there, you can't know, and I wouldn't want anyone to ever be there. You think, I'm dreaming, I'll wake up soon. But as the moments tick by, and you can't hear or feel your heartbeat, and the sheets are soaked with blood, the horror chokes you. You realize you simply can't bear it; you will go insane. The betrayal that cuts into you is as bad as the agony cramping your stomach, and you realize with a sickening lurch that nothing will ever be the same again. Life, as you knew it, is over. Forever.

Till death do us part?

Gradually Mick became aware of his surroundings. The cold wind blowing around him and the darkness enfolding him like a cloak brought reality back into focus. His gaze flew to the balcony window, sight zeroing in between the parted curtains and locking on the view of Beth, sleeping peacefully in the bed. A wave of intense longing washed over him, but the shame that accompanied it kept him where he was. Rising to his knees, he rested his palm against the glass, wanting to be inside with the warmth and Beth, not outside in this frozen wasteland. The difference between worlds, the one he'd been so careful to learn to ignore the past few months, hit him now like a blow to the solar plexus.

Emotion choked him, and he remained like that, as frozen as the ground beneath, hand glued to the door. What kind of husband am I to her, that I can't even sleep in the bed beside her on our wedding night?! She deserves so much better… Self revulsion of a kind he hadn't experienced in a long time stole his breath. It would have been painful – if he'd needed it. I'm dead. She married a dead man. It's not even a real marriage… Tears slid down his cheeks, only to begin to crystallize in the frigid Alaska air. Logic, rationalizations, comforting phrases, hope and faith… they were all beyond him at the moment, the emotions of the nightmare held him prisoner.

Vampires don't dream.

Mick stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, self pity and self indulgence won out. His desire to be close to her overruling his self punishment, he silently opened the door, and slowly moved across the space between them until he was next to the bed. Carefully, so as not to wake Beth, he settled himself on the floor, leaning against the night stand. He was content to sit like that, just to be allowed to watch her sleep.

XXX

Beth opened her eyes in the darkness of the room, waiting and listening. She had that feeling like something had awakened her; a sense of something being off. Turning her head, she was surprised to see the dark form of her husband huddled on the floor next to the bed.

"Mick?" She automatically reached out to him.

He shrank back from her. "Don't. I'm cold."

"Mick – what's wrong?" she demanded, alarmed. Everything was off; his posture, his voice.

"Nothing," he answered, but he wouldn't look at her.

"Bullshit!" she declared vehemently.

That got him to look at her, as his eyes met hers in surprise at the word and tone of her voice. "I…" he faltered, "I had a nightmare."

"If they're anything like the ones I used to have…" she shuddered in sympathy, holding out her hand again. "Come to bed."

"I'm cold," he warned again.

She smiled at him lovingly, promisingly. "You'll warm up."

After a long moment when she worried he'd actually refuse, he finally climbed into the bed with her. She wrapped as much of herself around him as she could. Once there though, his arms tightened around her like steel.

"Tell me," she asked, stroking his hair comfortingly.

"I can't," he whispered, his face close to hers.

And then he was kissing her, kissing her with a desperation that she'd never felt in him before. She went boneless in his arms, wanting only to give him what he needed. His hands tangled in her hair as he devoured her mouth, lips caressing, teeth teasing her lips.

Hands, cold and rough over her body but trailing fire in their wake. Her underwear was slid off, tossed carelessly in a corner. In the dark she couldn't see much, but she could feel. The hardness of muscles on his glorious body; the touches somehow both gentle and demanding. How could one man be rough and gentle, cold and hot, all at the same time?

"Please… please," he murmured between kisses, his large, possessive hands cupping her breasts, fingers brushing over the nipples. She wasn't sure what he was pleading for, but whatever he wanted was okay with her.

Beth spread her legs apart, encouraging him, inviting him.

His eyes flew open when he entered her, staring into hers with an intensity that sent tingles through her whole body. The moonlight shining into the room seemed to find him just so she could see those eyes. They looked like a strange combination of vampire pale and human. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. Then his eyes closed in pleasure as he slid deeper, robbing her of the intriguing sight.

She bit her lip at the pleasurable burn, a moment later felt his tongue touching the spot. That simple gesture was hotter than such a small thing should have been. She felt lightheaded, floating. – But came back to earth with a jolt as he started thrusting harder. No man had ever played her body like this, the pleasure building until she didn't think she could stand it anymore… but still it continued. She cried out, and he reacted to the sound, pulling her to him, closer, deeper.

"I need…" an agonized whisper, face buried in her neck.

"Take what you need."

The anticipation was enough to trigger her orgasm, but instead of feeling fangs pierce her neck as she'd expected to, she felt him turn his head away. Her scream of completion was echoed by Mick a moment later when as he followed her.

In the darkness and silence that followed, all she was aware of was the harsh breathing. With one last caress, Mick got up from the bed and went over to the fridge in the corner. Beth reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, watching as he pouring himself a glass of the blood they'd picked up before checking in. He kicked it back in one swallow like it was a shot of single malt.

"You are going to tell me what's going on."

"It's a long story."

"We've got time."

As she waited for his response she saw his eyes fasten on the bed with something like panic – and the glass slipped from his fingers to shatter on the floor. She followed his gaze to see a few specks of red stark against the white sheet. Only he hadn't bitten her. This time when she looked at him she noticed his forearm, and the marks that were in the process of healing.

Before Beth knew what was happening, he'd yanked her off the bed and was frantically stripping the sheets off the mattress.

"Mick, what's wrong with you?!" she demanded, but got no response as he finished his job and threw the sheets into a corner. She finally managed to grab his shoulders and get his attention. "Mick!

He seemed to come down from whatever had a hold of him, looking at her with recognition and something she didn't want to identify. "Forgive me."

"Jesus, Mick, just tell me what's going on? I thought we were passed this 'pull away from me' shit."

"You swear a lot now," he observed with just the beginning of a slight smile.

"Maybe you drive me to it." She took his arm, looking down at where the bit marks had now completely healed. "Wanna tell me what that was all about?" she said, more gently.

He looked away. "I was…hungry. I should've fed before we went to bed."

"You know I'm okay with that. More than okay." She led him back to the bed and coaxed him to lay down with her on the bare mattress.

Mick ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't. Not tonight. "She waited. "The nightmare was about my – my first wedding night."

"When she turned you," Beth said, not inclined to even use the woman's name. Some of the pieces started falling into place, and she was beginning to understand what his strange behavior was about. If anyone had a reason to have PTSD, it was Mick.

"There was so much blood," he whispered. "In the dream it was everywhere, I couldn't get rid of it."

"And in real life?"

I went to bed a happily married man and woke up a monster.

Beth knew there was more to it than that.

Mick laughed, but it was a hollow and unpleasant sound. "She did a number on my neck. Maybe I fought her, I don't know. My memories of the actual turning are blissfully hazy. I woke up and knew something was horribly wrong. Coraline was going on about how we could now be together forever, and I was thinking she's just destroyed my life. I can't even describe to you the feeling of craving blood. The gnawing in your gut that is different from any hunger pain you've ever had. My only experience with vampires before this was from the movies and books – not exactly comforting images." He barked another false laugh. "It was over. My life was over then. That's how I felt… for a long time." He turned his head on the pillow to look at Beth, and she could hear his unspoken words.

Until you came along.

"Coraline tried to reason with me, but I ran away from her. When she found me I begged her to kill me. Instead she brought me a woman. My first meal," his laugh this time was a sob, and Beth pulled his head down onto her shoulder. "She was so scared," he whispered. "I didn't want to do it, but I…god, Beth!" He crushed her to him and she held on just as tightly.

Mick cried for just a few moments, then pulled away slightly, wiping his face. "The crazy thing is, here I am now, and if she hadn't… hadn't raped me of my humanity, I would never known you or Josef." He rested a hand on her cheek. "The two most amazing relationships I've ever had. I'm so blessed to have both of you in my life. How do I reconcile that?"

"When you're a reporter you see a lot of tragedy, and most of the time the people it happens to don't deserve it. Some let it destroy them; others find a way to make something good out of it. Maybe that's all you can do. And you have done that." Beth covered the hand that was still on her cheek, squeezing slightly.

"Is that what you call me killing some poor woman whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time? A tragedy for me?" he asked demandingly.

Beth understood she was being baited. He was pushing her, trying to see if her love and understanding had limits. Despite the fact that they'd been together for awhile now and she had some idea of the personal demons Mick kept locked inside, they hadn't talked about the brutal facts. Maybe they should have. There were no limits where Mick was concerned. He should know that by now.

"Yes. It was a tragedy for both of you." I wish that bitch was alive, so I could kill her again. "You didn't know there was another way, did you? She never told her. All you knew about vampires was from horror stories – no wonder you thought you were a monster! Remember what Robert said – when we believe something about ourselves, we tend to act based on that belief." He was thinking, turning it over in his mind. She could see it in his face. She mentally crossed her fingers. "When you know better, you do better," she added.

"I don't remember Robert saying that," Mick told her; the hint of amusement in his expression telling her his guilt was receding. For now.

Beth shrugged, embarrassed. "He didn't. That's what Oprah always says."

"Oprah." he repeated with raised eyebrow and she knew her Mick was fully back. "Well then, it must be true."

Beth shoved his shoulder, secretly pleased. If he was teasing her again, all was right with the world. "Don't diss Oprah."

"The divine Miss O? I wouldn't think of it."

Beth giggled, slipping her arms around him. "Good."

"Dick Clark is a vamp you know," Mick announced suddenly, apropos of nothing.

"Huh?" she gaped at him.

"Didn't you ever wonder why he never looks any older?"

"He's aged… well, recently he has," she argued.

Mick shook his head. "Faked."

Beth stared at him uncertainly. "Are you pulling my leg?!"

"Can't tell, can you?" he quipped, echoing a similar conversation they had after she'd first met Josef.

"Now that's scary."

XXX

Mick watched.

Every move the woman made was avidly taken in by starving eyes. Even the mundane movements held a fascination he couldn't resist. Simply preparing herself a bath was the most exotic thing he'd ever seen. Turning on the taps and running the bathwater, pouring some oil into the tub, setting the candles on the counter, getting a washcloth…

She was aware of the scrutiny of course; indulgently allowed it without comment. Showing no self consciousness as she let the robe fall from her shoulders onto the floor, she allowed his eyes to have their fill of her naked form.

He allowed himself the freedom to stand there watching openly, as she settled into the tub. When it's been so long since you've been around a human woman, you get used to not missing it, it's normal. Then times like this it hits you anew. Each little moment filled with life, infinitely precious.

"There's just something about a good old fashioned tub soak," Beth began, leaning back to relax. "I mean, the hot tub is great and I intend to spend a lot of time there, but a bath is kinda like comfort food."

"If you say so."

"What, you've never taken a good soak?"

"Not that I can remember."

"You should try it sometime then," she said, eyes sparkling in invitation.

It was of course, entirely impossible to resist. Mick started removing his clothes, his eyes not leaving her. He didn't know about the bath, but she was his banquet: comfort food, and sustaining meat and potatoes, rich decadent dessert, and the most intoxicating fine wine. He knew he'd never have his fill.

It was a big, claw foot bathtub, perfect for two. Mick stepped into the opposite end, settling down with his legs on the outside of hers. The water was warm, but not hot. For him, or the way she preferred it?

She wiggled closer and he slid his hands over her sides, noticing how the oil slicked her body, making his hands slid sensuously. It was a turn on, and his hands couldn't get enough of roaming over her wet skin.

Beth glanced down at his lap. The wicked grin she gave him alone sent shivers of pleasure through his body. "I see you do like taking a bath."

His eyes darkened with lust. "That's not what I'm thinking about taking right now."

"I can see that," she said, and wrapped her hand around his hardening length, stroking him at a maddeningly slow pace.

Mick retaliated, mapping her body with his hands, bending to nip and lick at her breasts. He pulled her head to him so he could kiss her properly.

"God, you get me so hot so fast," she said when he let her breathe.

"I know," he said smugly.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" she challenged.

His hands slid down into the water behind her, moving under her butt, lifting her easily, as they maneuvered themselves into position. Her hands on his shoulders helped guide her down onto his lap, and let him know when she was ready for more. They fell into a rhythm, moving to their own private soundtrack.

Mick licked a trail down her neck to the valley between her breasts, enjoying the salt of sweat on his tongue. She shivered at the sensations, and her internal muscles tightened around his shaft, pulling a growl out of him. She shivered again. He reveled in his heightened senses, in the ability to feel every response from her body reverberating through his own.

When they were both close to the edge, Beth stopped all movement and took Mick's face in her hands, somehow reminding him of that time at the no star motel. They could screw up as well as anybody, when miscommunication and misunderstanding wrecked havoc, but times like this, when they were two people somehow connected beyond the physical, it was almost eerie.

"Don't hold back this time," she told him, trying to guide his mouth to her neck.

And then, just like that, the spell of psychic connection was broken. "Shut up Beth," he told her with a smile, then took her mouth in a passionate kiss intended to short circuit her brain. His hands lifted and lowered her, using his vampire strength to best advantage. Ignoring her neck, his mouth moved to her ear instead. "Touch yourself for me," he whispered.

She moaned at his words, head falling back, fingers automatically obeying his directive. At the sight of her exposed, bared neck, Mick smiled secretively, placing an almost chaste kiss there. For some reason he didn't understand, the small gesture pushed her over the edge, and she cried out. As usual, seeing her like this, coming apart for him, with him, triggered his own orgasm. His head flew back, hitting the tile with a resounding bang that shook the wall. He momentarily saw a few stars, but rather enjoyed the combined sensations of release and dizziness.

Mick held Beth close, in no hurry to move or leave the haven of her body, enjoying the intimacy of the embrace. He placed soft kisses at the edge of her mouth. "That would have hurt if I wasn't a vamp," he chuckled. "Give me a minute for the crack in my skull to heal, will ya baby?" he quipped.

"Why didn't you bite me?" she asked, her voice sounding a bit plaintive, confused. Upset? Her arms wrapped around his neck. "I want to be what you need," she admitted into his ear.

"Oh Beth, you are what I need, never doubt that. I didn't because I didn't need to," he told her.

"Because you – fed earlier?" She was clearly trying to understand.

Mick sighed, for some reason not wanting to have this particular conversation. "Before, after the nightmare, was the first time in a long time I've even had the urge."

"Isn't that… unusual?" she asked, finally pulling back slightly to look him in the eye. "Or was I misunderstanding something?"

He nodded. "So I've heard. I guess I just didn't wanna jinx it by trying to analyze it or anything." Their conversation was carried on in quiet tones, influenced by the intimate position and their mutual desire to prolong the mood as long as possible.

"What do you mean, so you've heard?"

He would have squirmed uncomfortably at the new direction of the conversation, if not for the weight pinning his body. "It does with vamp to vamp sex. I've never… I mean, this is my first, uh… Since I was turned I haven't had a relationship with a human. Till now."

The look of wonder in her eyes was almost worth the price of admission. "Why? I mean, let's face it, you could probably have any woman you wanted, vampire or human."

He had to grin stupidly at her compliment, unable to answer.

"Okay, don't let it go to your ego."

"I guess, after the first wife, I wasn't anxious to have a relationship with anyone."

She processed that in silence for a few moments, but he knew more was coming. "So I'm your first," she said coyly, bouncing a little in his lap.

"Don't let it go to your ego."

"If it's not normal to have sex without biting, should we be concerned?"

"No, I'm not concerned about the fact that I can make love to my wife like a normal man," he said, unable to keep the harsh tone from his voice.

Beth ran her hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you, I can't help but worry about you. You seemed to want it that night in Newark, when I finally got you to really... "

And Mick couldn't decide whether her worry was heartbreakingly sweet, or more-than-mildly annoying. "I shudder to think what you would be like if I was human instead of an almost indestructible vampire."

"Have you noticed anything else unusual lately?"

"Beth…" he began, frustrated.

"Humor me. "

Women. He couldn't believe they were locked in a lover's embrace and she was off on an investigation.

"Unusual. Strange."

Mick rolled his eyes, complying with her request. "The nightmare," he said after thinking for a moment.

"What about it?"

"Vampires don't dream. So that was kinda weird."

"Mick," she said, very quietly, and the tone set off butterflies in his stomach. "The last time you had the urge to bite was the last time you really fed from me. If my blood is the cure, what if there are long term effects from drinking it? What if it's turning you… more human?"

Mick stared at her. "Vanilla!" he exclaimed in sudden remembrance.

"What??"

"Was there vanilla in the wedding cake?"

"You tasted the wedding cake?!"

The chills he felt running through both their bodies were both frightening and erotic. "Sorta."

"Oh my god."

"We can't do that anymore!" Mick blurted. "It's too dangerous. If there's a possibility that it could turn me human…"

There was silence for a few moments as they both processed the unbelievably incongruous words that had just left Mick St. John's lips.

Was that really him? Horrified of the possibility of becoming human? Mick examined his feelings, and had to conclude it was. He'd been in a bizarre and brutal tug-of-war, pulled in two different directions. Mortal life, vampire undead, each one having benefits and drawbacks. However, to protect Beth and help all the other innocents, he needed the edge being a vampire gave him. Not to mention that he was beginning to feel the press of fragile mortal years in his life; if he could have only 50-60 years with Beth would he chose that over having hundreds? An eternity?

Beth grabbed his ears and planted a big kiss on his mouth, giggling. "Damn, I wish I had a tape recorder! I can't wait to tell Josef this one!"

"Please don't mention another man when you're having sex with me."

That wicked look on her fact again, Beth looked down at their joined bodies. "Oh. We are having sex, aren't we?"

"And if we stay this way much longer, little Mick is going to wake up again," he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"What wrong with that? We are on our honeymoon. We're supposed to have lots and lots of sex."

Mick sent out a silent prayer of thanksgiving for vampire… stamina. "Think you can handle it?"

"Have I ever not been able to handle you?" she said, and they both knew she was talking about more than sex.

"Handle me, baby."

XXX



The Last Resort was little more than a rundown shack on the outside. On the inside, it was your typical small town bar. There were a few tables and chairs scattered around, and a couple of pool tables. There was also a small stage off to the side. It was fairly warm inside compared to out; Beth took off her coat while her eyes adjusted to the dimness. The flannel shirt she was wearing over a tank top was enough.

As the couple claimed one of the tables, a man walked over to them. He was solidly built, as tall as Mick, with long blond hair that was tied back. Rather than the dark vampire persona favored in L.A., he was wearing faded blue jeans with several tears in them, a light blue denim shirt, and a cowboy hat. He looked like a cross between a rock star and a good 'ol country boy. He was the Sheriff of the county, and the contact Josef had arranged for them.

"You're the only strangers in town, so you must be Mick and Beth," he announced with a grin, holding out his hand for Mick to shake. "I'm Shane Alexander."

"Nice to meet you," Beth said as he pulled out one of the chairs and joined them.

"So how do you know Josef?" Mick asked when they'd settled in.

Shane grinned. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." He grinned again, to soften the joking threat, and they got the impression it was something he did a lot.

Mick nodded toward his wife. "She'll only get it out of Josef later."

Shane turned his raised eyebrows to her, seeming to reassess her in light of this new information. If he knew Josef half as well as they did, he'd know getting secrets out of him would take a rare talent.

Sheriff Alexander called the barmaid over. "Bring me the usual, Daisy," he told her. She nodded and then looked at the others inquiringly.

"What's your usual?" Mick asked Shane.

"Jack, of course. What else is there?" Another grin.

"Sounds good to me."

"I'll have whatever's on tap," Beth told Daisy, who nodded and left to fill their orders.

"Did you find Silas okay?" Shane asked.

Mick nodded. "Yeah. We stopped there before checking into the lodge." Silas was the local blood supplier for the town of Resurrection, Alaska, providing sustenance for the vamps that preferred to go bottled. Unlike Guillermo at the morgue, he worked at the local hospital.

"So how many of you are there here?" Beth asked after the drinks had been served and the waitress was gone again. The bar was loud and distracting enough, so it was safe enough to talk if particular words were left out of the conversation.

"Oh, about one hundred, but that's in the whole county."

"That's a lot," Mick observed in surprise. "There's only a couple hundred in L.A."

"Well, I could be wrong, but I wouldn't think L.A. would exactly be a Mecca for our kind. All that sun and daylight," he shuddered melodramatically. "The weather here is perfect, most of the time."

"Yeah but that midnight sun part's gotta be a bitch," Mick observed.

Shane shrugged. "Better than the desert heat of L.A. Plus we get folks on the fringes of society – of both persuasions."

"Is that why they need a sheriff with your, uh, special talents?" Beth guessed.

Shane nodded. "Somebody has to keep the peace. Some come up here thinking they won't have to follow the rules anymore. Alaska is the last frontier. "

"Must keep you pretty busy then," Mick said.

The sheriff nodded. "There's more crime up here than what gets reported." The unspoken message was clear; he was talking about the kind of crime that can't be reported. The vampire kind. "You two up for a game of pool?" he asked, motioning to a table that had just been vacated.

"Sure," Mick answered, looking at Beth for confirmation. "Ever played?" She shook her head, her eyes gleaming in excitement. "That's okay, I'll teach you."

Ten minutes later, the lesson was progressing nicely. Both were enjoying it, since it involved Mick being pressed up close behind Beth, holding the stick with her to show her the proper technique.

"This is called a pool cue, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Mick answered, while Shane snickered. He began pointing out the different parts. "This is the tip, and the shaft, the butt and butt cap."

"Wow. I never knew pool was such a dirty game."

Mick barked a surprised laugh. "I never knew you had such a dirty mind, either."

"You know now, don't you?" she asked, as Shane tried to pretend he wasn't privy to their conversation.

"Amen," Mick responded reverently. "Ready to try it on your own?" he asked, reluctantly letting go of her.

Beth nodded. "Okay, but I don't want you to cut me any slack just because I've never played before."

"Meaning?" Shane asked, intrigued.

"Let's make this interesting. Say, a dollar a ball?"

Shane looked at Mick for his okay; he shrugged. "Long as it's not my money she's spending this time," he served.

"California is a community property state, remember," she volleyed.

"That's property acquired during the marriage, darlin'."

"I happen to know a really good attorney in high places," she returned. District places…

"Don't make me kill him," Mick responded, deadpan, knowing she wasn't talking about Aldo.

"Are you two always like this?" Shane asked, having been looking from one to the other during their exchange as if at a tennis match.

"Nah, it's a honeymoon," they said at the same time, both looked at each other, then shared a laugh at the coincidence.

Beth quickly chalked the tip of her cue. "Okay, the game is straight pool, boys, and lady's break first. 9 ball in the side pocket," she declared as she pushed her fedora back on her head, took expert aim and the cue connected, scattering the others and sending the ball in question exactly where she wanted it to go.

Something about the seamlessly fluid way the shot was executed sent suspicion through Mick. Too late. Without pause she lined up again and this time all the balls disappeared, one after another, leaving no shots for the others.

"Have I been had?" Shane wanted to know.

Mick put up his hands in supplication, to let Shane know he'd had nothing to do with the hustle. "You're a pool shark!" he exclaimed to her.

"Hah!" Beth said in victory. "Something you didn't know about me!" She began to re-rack the balls. "Shame on you, some stalker you are. My boyfriend in college taught me."

"I must have been out of town on a case that week."

"Maybe we should switch to shuffleboard…" Shane suggested warily.

"Ooh, I haven't played that in forever!"

The two vampires were saved from responding by the sudden, blood curdling scream that was audible over the noise in the bar even to Beth. They were out the back door in a flash, as Beth grabbed her coat and threw it on, following behind.

In the alley behind the bar they found a red headed girl of about nineteen standing over a dark form on the ground. She stood frozen to the spot, transfixed by the horrific thing she had stumbled across. Hugging herself in reaction, her eyes were glued to the sight as if she couldn't look away.

It was the dead body of a woman, about twenty five, with her throat ripped out. The dark pool on the pavement was blood. It stained her clothes and was smeared across her face and blond hair.

Shane grabbed the girl by the shoulders and forced her to look at him, turning her away from the grisly sight. "What happened? Are you okay, Sara?"

"I was cutting through the alley on my way home…" she began, clearly pulling herself together. She looked down at the body again and the others followed her gaze. "Was it an animal?"

"Yeah, like the others. Probably that mountain lion again," he shared a look with Mick; they could both clearly smell vamp on the body. "Listen Sara, what have I told you about taking short cuts? Stick to the road from now on, got it?!" he demanded, fear for her making his voice harsh.

"I will," she promised in a small voice. "I was just going to…I thought I might stop in and say hi…"

Shane hugged her briefly, tightly, then let her go and gave her a hard push towards the back door. "Go inside and stay there, tell Daisy to put whatever you want on my tab – no booze! I'll call Greg to come and drive you home." He was on his cell calling his deputy before the door had even closed behind her.

The next few minutes were spent waiting for the team to arrive and convincing the crowd forming to go back inside.

"Others?" Beth asked when the crowd was gone and the police car and hearse were pulling up.

The deputy ran up to them, sparing a quick glance for the body before looking to Shane for instructions.

"Greg Barrister, this is Mick St. John, a PI friend from L.A., and his wife, Beth."

Greg nodded and shook Mick's hand, tipping his hat politely to Beth. "This one like the others?" he asked Shane.

Shane nodded. "Listen, Sara is inside, I want you to take her—"

"She might have seen…something," Mick cut in meaningfully.

Shane's eyes told the story of how he felt about that, but he nodded in understanding. "Take her to my office. I'll be there in a bit."

Greg disappeared inside, and another man joined them. He was of indeterminate age -- but looked to be really old, could have been in his 80's or even 90 plus. His craggy face was a mass of wrinkles, his white hair cut severely short. He was dressed in a black suit. He nodded to the sheriff without speaking, and bent down to examine the body.

"This is Doc Haliday," Shane told them. "We don't have a fancy crime team up here in the boonies, he's our local undertaker. But don't underestimate him, he knows his stuff."

"Doc Holiday??" Beth queried, her eyes wide.

"Not that Doc Holiday. Well, at least I don't think so…"

"Okay, I need a scorecard. Is your deputy—"

"Human," Shane explained, "And no clue. Same for Sara. Doc is one of us."

Doc straightened and turned to Alexander. "Looks to be same as the other two, but I'll give you a more detailed report once I do the exam." He snapped his fingers and two assistants appeared with a gurney to load the body. He nodded to the sheriff and Mick. "Ma'am," he nodded to Beth and walked back to his car.

Creepy guy, she thought with a shiver.

Mick crouched down for a closer look, closing his eyes to get a whiff of the attack. Beth peered over his shoulder and scrutinized the body.

"Feral?" she asked, clearly not buying the mountain lion story.

Shane looked at Mick with raised eyebrows questioningly.

"She's seen a few," Mick explained, shaking his head at Beth, taking her arm and leading her away as the team got to work on removal.

"Not here," Shane silenced the topic of conversation in a clipped tone.

XXX

Shane sat behind his desk, leaning back in the chair, watching through the windows as Sara sat waiting on a chair in the outer office, tapping her fingers on the arm in either nervousness or impatience. Probably both, knowing her.

"This is the third one in two weeks," he told Mick, his eyes still not leaving the girl.

"Mountain Lions aren't indigenous to Alaska," Beth stated. "The few that are spotted once in a blue moon are down near the border, not this far north."

"She does her homework."

"She's a reporter, it comes with the territory."

Shane abruptly let his chair fall forward. "You married a reporter?" he asked incredulously.

"You'd be surprised how useful it is, having somebody on the inside to do damage control."

"That's me, your spy on the inside," she said, irritated at the implications.

"The spy who loves me," Mick misquoted. "I think I'd make a good James Bond, don't you?" he grinned cheekily at her, trying to diffuse her anger.

"Nobody does it better," she quoted back, apparently his charm held and she was unable to maintain her mad. While she'd never seen the Thin Man till recently, she obviously had watched the old Bond movies and was familiar with the titles and songs.

"Look, I'm sorry for questioning your loyalty, but this is a delicate situation," Shane explained.

"Then it is a vampire, right?" Beth guessed.

"Yeah, but he's not feral," Mick told her.

"Another vampire serial killer? Is this a common thing among you people?"

"Is murder a common thing among you humans?" Shane shot back. When she looked away guiltily, he continued. "What you have to remember is that whatever you have in the mortal world, you're going to find in ours – only less because there aren't as many of us. If you have one hundred serial killers, we'd have probably about ten. Here in Alaska it's maybe a little more intense. A lot of vamps that don't wanna follow the rules come here thinking it's going to be wild and woolly, anything goes. Actually, we're stricter here."

"I would think you'd have to be."

"Exactly." He turned his attention to Mick. "What'd you get from the scene?"

"Rage. Hatred. She never knew what hit her, and he wanted revenge."

"I was hoping maybe you'd get something I didn't pick up on."

"Revenge for what?" Beth asked.

Mick sighed. "No clue."

"What about the MO?" Beth asked.

Shane apparently gave up on being surprised by her jumping into the investigation and answered easily. "All three were women between the ages of 21 and 31, blond, and were residents of Resurrection. And probably a dozen other things in common, since this is a small town. But the other two were found in the woods outside of town. This one… this one was right under my nose." And his expression said he was taking that personal.

"So he's escalating. What's our next move?"

"Our?" Shane wasn't through being surprised by Beth after all. He glanced at Mick.

"She's pushy. You'll get used to it."

"It's a good thing I love you," she groused.

"I've got to go question 'the usual suspects,' and possible informants. First stop, crazy Randy."

"Want some company?" Mick offered.

"Why not, I could use the extra help with this. But Beth will have to sit this one out," he said as she picked up her coat.

"Why, does he have a problem keeping his fangs to himself?" Mick asked.

"No, not that. He's just… well, it's hard to explain. You'll see."

"In the meantime I can talk to Sara and look over the reports on the murders. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will pick up on something you missed," Beth told them.

"That's my Nora," Mick patted her on the head in passing on their way out the door. Then jumped as she pinched his ass hard enough to leave a bruise, if he hadn't been a vamp.

Instead of leaving right away as Beth expected, Shane made his way over to Sara and plopped himself in the chair next to hers. He sat there a moment while they waited.

"Tell me exactly what happened," he told her.

"Not much to tell from my side. I was cutting through the alley on my way to the bar, when I heard this horrible scream. By the time I got there, she was… uh…" she faltered, her composed act slipping a bit.

He put a hand on her arm, rubbing comfortingly. "It's okay. Are you sure you didn't see anything at all? Hear anything?"

"It happened so fast, and I was pretty freaked out," she admitted.

Shane blew out a breath and rubbed a hand across his face. "Okay, listen, this is Beth," he nodded toward her. "She's a reporter doing a story on the uh, animal attacks. She wants to interview you, and then Greg will take you home. Stay there."

She looked at him through narrowed eyes as he rose. "Wait a minute. All these questions, an attack in town in the alley, the police escort… do I have stupid tattooed on my forehead?"

"Sara," he began warningly. "Just go home with Greg. It will be okay," he promised. Then sighed in capitulation. "Tell Ethan I'll stop by later."

"Okay," she said, finally satisfied.

"And behave yourself!" was his parting shot as he left with Mick.

"Why would I want to do that?" she joked back.

XXX

It was weird being out and about in the middle of the daytime hours – and having darkness around you. Even for a vampire. A vamp born and raised in L.A. Mick actually found himself missing the sun. For most vamps it was something to be tolerated because they had to. Showed how much he lived between the worlds? The glimpses they'd gotten of the scenery during the few hours of daylight were stunningly beautiful. Mick felt bad Beth was missing that, even though she assured him she didn't care. Maybe he'd bring her back during the summer…

Shane pulled the police car into a dirt driveway beside a rundown shack and cut the engine. They got out of the car.

"Hey Randy!" Shane called. "It's me, Sheriff Alexander."

Mick blinked in confusion, not quite sure he'd really just seen the vampire sheriff run and hide behind his cruiser.

"You might wanna duck," Shane suggested, just as the bullets started whizzing by.

Mick dove over the hood and landed next to Shane. "Silver?" he whispered urgently, trying to assess the risk.

"Nope, just regular ammo. "

"He knows we're vampires," Mick sought clarification, even more confused than before.

"I told you he was a bit… eccentric." Shane raised his head a few inches. "Now, Randy, you know that's not gonna hurt us."

"Git off my property!" came the disembodied voice from the shadows of the house, along with more gunshots.

"C'mon Randy, I'm tired 'a picking buckshot outta my butt. It's embarrassing!"

Mick ducked a little further down at the words 'buckshot' and 'butt' in the same sentence.

"We just wanna talk with ya. I brought a friend, from L.A. We don't want him to think this is Alaskan hospitality, do we?"

There was silence, no bullets. "Sheriff, is that you??"

Mick looked at Shane in disbelief. "My ex-wife was crazy, but in a cold calculating, screw with your head kinda way. This is a whole new level of crazy I've never seen in a vamp before. This is rubber room kinda crazy."

"A friend??" A moment later the screen door banged open and Randy was on the stoop, no gun in sight. "Well why didn't ya say so. Come on in!"

Mick followed Shane dubiously, but he strode forward with confidence, allowing Randy to pump his hand enthusiastically. Then it was Mick's turn for the friendly greeting. Randy ushered them inside, where they sat on a dirty, worn sofa while Randy perched on the edge of an old rocker.

"What can I do for you sheriff? Anything for you, you know that!"

"You know about the mortals who have been drained. We got another one today, this one right in town. I was wondering if you heard anything about it."

"Mortals drained, in town. Not good. Not good at all."

"Have you heard anyone, bragging, or acting strangely?"

He's asking Randy about vamps acting strange, Mick thought, but kept his opinions about that to himself.

"Hmm… bragging… nope. Not yet. But I'll keep my ears open for ya."

"Randy makes the wickedest moonshine in the whole state," Shane explained to Mick. "It's so potent it'll get a vamp three sheets to the wind. So he gets a lot of customers with loose tongues."

"Maybe that explains it," Mick muttered cryptically.

"Thanks, Randy, as always." Shane reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a box of ammo, handing it over to Randy as his 'payment.' "If you hear anything at all…"

Randy snatched his prize happily. "I'll give ya a shout, count on it."

"Thanks buddy."

The goodbyes were another round of excited hand pumping, then they were outside again and walking to the car.

"So basically, you're providing Randy with the buckshot he's shooting you in the butt with, is that right?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

They were almost to the car when one, lone shot rang out through the cold Alaska air.

"SON OF A --! " Mick's voice echoed through the trees as he limped the rest of the way to the car.

XXX

Mick lay on the bed on his stomach, naked, biting the pillow his face was buried in. Beth was straddling his legs, bent over as she carefully cut into the skin of his buttock to remove the bullet. He had a high pain threshold, but some areas were just more sensitive than others. This was definitely one of them. Not to mention the embarrassment factor. Even if she was his wife.

"Contrary to what one might think, this is not sexy," she commented as she fished out the bullet with the edge of the knife and tossed it in a glass on the bedside table. She leaned back and watched with interest as the cut healed itself, then wiped the leftover blood with a washcloth.

Hmm… missed a spot.

Giving into an impulse, Beth bent over and touched her tongue to the spot, licking it clean then giving the cheek a kiss. Hmm, coppery, no different from…

"What the hell are you doing back there?!" Mick squeaked, having almost levitated off the bed at the touch.

Practicing. "A kiss to make it better," she explained.

"Uh huh," he responded in a shaky voice as if not convinced.

She leaned over him further. "Do vampires like massages?"

"Who doesn't?" Now this could be turning out to be worthwhile after all, he thought happily.

"Close your eyes," she whispered into his ear in the sultry voice he always obeyed.

Beth made a quick trip to the bathroom for some massage oil, and stripped off her clothes before settling back in the bed on top of Mick. This could turn out to be sexy after all, she thought, surveying the expanse of his broad back before giving into the desire to touch. Having this man laying there before her, at her mercy, was more than a mere mortal could resist. She poured a small amount of oil on her hands and began stroking the muscles, hands gliding over his smooth skin, reveling in the feast spread out for her taking.

She wiggled down closer to the foot of the bed, so that her hands could roam lower, over the swell of buttocks, kneading and squeezing. It wasn't enough thought, she had to place more kisses there, little bites that made Mick squirm and moan.

"Do you have a… a butt fetish I should know about?" he managed.

"Only for yours," she replied, nipping at his right cheek. "Like it?"

"I'm about to drill a hole through this mattress."

"And I'm about to scandalize you again," she warned.

"Huh?"

"Ever been spanked?"

Mick made a gurgling sound.

"You know, I really wasn't at all happy with that comment you made about me being pushy," she told him, punctuating it with a sharp sting of slap. The sound was loud to his ears, echoing in the room obscenely. He wondered if he was dreaming again. "And the line about marrying me because I could do damage control…"

"I didn't mean that's why—"he managed before another slap stopped his voice cold, this one to the neglected – I mean, the other cheek.

"Oh, and that condescending head pat??"

If this kept up one more minute he was going to totally embarrass himself, and come – not only without biting, but without so much as touching his wife.

Mick used his vamp speed to flip over and pin Beth under him instead. "Turnabout is foreplay," he growled.

"Uh—"she said momentarily distracted by the hardness pressing into her stomach. "I think that's fair play."

"Oh, I don't intend to play fair." He told her in silky promise.

"Good, we'll be even," she said, reaching down to cup his balls in her hand.

Mick felt his eyes alter, his control dangerously close to slipping. Too far gone to focus enough to sense if she was ready for him or not, he grabbed the oil from the nightstand, poured a handful over himself to be on the safe side, and slipped insider her body. Mick let himself go, giving up some of the control that was always a part of him with he made love to her.

Beth screamed her pleasure, wrapping her legs around him and encouraging his thrusts. The pleasure was so intense it was almost pain, an ache that had him striving desperately for release but conversely willing it to last forever. In the end it was the sounds his mate was making, for him, because of him, that tipped the balance. The world turned inside out as the pleasure peaked in white hot release.

XXX

The winter festival was one of the highlights of their trip they were most looking forward to. It was an old fashioned, small town event, charmingly quaint for the two big city natives. They had dog sled races, ice sculptures, vendors selling foods and crafts, and the evening was to end with a spectacular fireworks display.

Mick and Beth wandered around, Beth sampling everything, soaking up atmosphere. They strolled arm in arm through the street. It felt so comfortable and normal; Mick could almost forget he wasn't just another human enjoying an evening out with his wife -- if it weren't for the fact that she was the only one pigging out on the food.

"How's the fudge?" he asked.

She grinned at him mischievously, breaking off a tiny piece and popping it into his mouth before he had a chance to protest.

The surprised/confused/comical look on his face was priceless, and she laughed delightedly.

Mick cautiously chewed for a moment, screwing up his face in concentration. "Mint?" he finally guessed.

"Chocolate mint fudge," she confirmed.

He couldn't help grinning; it had been a long time since he'd tasted mint. "Do women really think chocolate is better than sex?" he asked.

"They haven't slept with you," she told him, claiming a kiss.

He decided he liked the fudge mixed with the taste of Beth, best.

He had Beth, and he had blood. Food really wasn't high on Mick St. John's priority list, and he didn't mind it that way.

"The fireworks are about to start," Mick announced.

"Oh – I gotta make a pit stop first. I'll be right back." She grabbed a quick kiss and ran off to the bathrooms set up off to the side.

"That's another thing I don't miss," Mick said to himself as he waited for Beth to return, contemplating starting a list. The "being human is lame because…" list. That way he could take it out and read it whenever his mind kept reminding him why being a vampire sucked.

He'd come up with five more reasons, but Beth still hadn't returned. He waited, but with each agonizing second that ticked by on his wristwatch, his concern grew. Then the fireworks started, with a loud boom that rattled his eardrums.

How long had it been? Only a few minutes that seemed like hours. He ran over to the bathrooms, but there was no sign of Beth.

All the victims were women between the ages of 21-31. Blond… First two were found in the woods, this is the first one that's been right under my nose… Escalating.

Blond.

"BETH!" Mick screamed her name, the fireworks drowning out his voice except for those closest, trying to sound like just a man who lost track of his wife in the crowd and not a desperate vampire who's sensed his mate is in mortal danger.

How could he be so STUPID, should've known she was in danger. How could I know? Vamps, attracted to half breeds, they don't realize why…

He almost plowed Shane down before he realized it was the sheriff standing there.

"He has her!" he yelled, grabbing Shane by the arms.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Beth is gone, she was right here a minute ago – he's got her, I know it!"

Shane's eyes widened in alarm. "We'll split up and search, you take the north area and I'll take south. We'll find her!" he reassured before they ran off in their separate directions.

Fireworks exploded, leaving blinding spots before his eyes as he tried to scan for her through the crowd of people in the darkness. Smells of explosive and sickening stench of greasy food assaulted his nostrils as he tried to get a fix on her through scent. Hearing felt like his eardrums were going to burst as he tried in vain to listen for any trace of her heartbeat, ringing in his ears so loud it was impossible. Straining to catch a scent of her perfume. He bought it for her, loved the way it mixed with her own personal scent to tantalize his senses, especially when the hint of arousal was overlaying all the rest of her unique smells… His senses were on overload, screaming for a respite as he ignored them and forced himself further. Never happened before, not since he'd been first turned and had to get used to everything being more intense. Everything was a whirl of color and sound and smell and nothing was working right and he needed them to goddamned work right, just when he needs the vamp abilities…

Finally, Mick came upon the edges of the festival, away from the people. Things quieted down but his senses were still reeling. He thought he saw movement through the trees and almost blindly followed on instinct alone. Chasing shadows. The shadows blended into the night and vanished, but still he continued on. Was his sight… there she was – a dark shape on the cold ground. Not moving.

Not moving.

"No…"

It was a whisper on the wind that no one heard. He ran to her side, skidding and sliding to the ground before her. Afraid to look. Listen – was that a heartbeart or his imagination? Echoes of explosions. The world coming to an end in fiery damnation. Was it there, faint, slowing? He lost track of it, then there it was again. Slowing. Stopping. Dying.

He was going to have to do it. Right here, right now. His biggest fear, the thing he dreaded: he was going to have to turn her on their honeymoon. His worst nightmare made reality.

The white snow would be stained red, just like the sheets in their hotel room. His wedding, his honeymoon spent in agony of bloodlust. Coraline, forever? He lifted his head to scream at the heavens.

"No, God please no. Not here, not now!"

It was still his wedding night. Eternal night never ending here in the frozen wilderness. The ground beneath his knees was cold, he was shivering but he shouldn't be cold, monsters don't get cold…

"Not now," he begged.

Tears streaming down his face, he ripped open his shirt at the sleeve, baring fangs and was about to sink them into his arm, to offer his damnation to his bride as it had been given to him… When he felt the shaking increase. Only it wasn't coming from his body. Someone was trying to pull him away from Beth.

"NO…" he growled, trying to fight back. But the force held. The noise finally registered as words.

"Mick?! Mick! Get a hold of yourself man, listen to me!"

It was Shane, holding onto him, shaking him.

"I have to save her!" he tried to reach his arm with his mouth but was blocked.

"SHE'S OKAY – SHE'S NOT DYING, DO YOU HEAR ME? SHE'S not DYING!!"

Finally, the words made sense and the hurricane assaulting his senses stopped. The woods were quiet and still. The fireworks over. The loudest sound was Beth's heartbeat. His body was throbbing in time.

"Bit of post traumatic stress there, buddy?" Shane quipped in relief at Mick's returning awareness.

Mick broke free from his grasp and lunged, cradling Beth's head in his hands.

"She's unconscious and I think she's got a broken arm, but she'll be okay."

Mick saw the way her arm hung and knew Shane was right. He checked her over quickly, finding a good sized bump on her head, then running his sensitive hands down her arm.

Beth groaned and her eyes fluttered open.

"Baby…" her blue eyes were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, perfectly clear even in the dead of Alaskan night. "It's okay. You're okay, baby…" he kissed her sloppily, tears mixing with spit.

She reached up with her good arm and touched his face. "Are you okay?"

He laughed till he almost started crying again.

Shane came around other side and helped her to a sitting position. "Careful," he warned as she was about to automatically brace herself. "Your arm is broken." He took his jacket off tore it into a strip to bind the arm and keep it immobilized.

"Thanks. What happened??"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Shane said. "You disappeared from the festival. Scared the shit out of poor Mick here."

She looked questioningly at him.

"Let's get her to the hospital," Mick said, getting up – a bit unsteadily at first but no way would he ever let anyone else hold her – and lifted her into his arms mindful of hers.

"I was just coming out of the, uh, porta potty," she began slightly embarrassed as they started back. "Just as I was passing them someone grabbed me. He dragged me away. I remember trying to get away, and then I was falling. I felt the pain, then nothing."

"Did you see him?" Shane questioned.

"I… not really, he grabbed me from behind."

Mick carefully bundled her into the passenger side of the rental car.

"I wanna stay here and see if I can pick up the trail, any trace of him," Shane told Mick. "Are you okay to drive?"

"I'm fine now. Thanks."

"Why wouldn't you be okay to drive?" Beth asked, confused. He didn't answer. "I'm okay, don't need the hospital."

"Sorry sweetheart, you're not a vamp and that bone isn't gonna set itself."

"Don't rub it in, buckshot butt," she complained, cross from the pain.

XXX

Now, the hospital wasn't one of Mick's favorite places, although he spent too much time in them. Most people hate the scent of antiseptic and bleach, for him it was the overpowering aroma of blood. O, B, some AB, a hint of Rh factor on the air… Especially to a tired, hungry, stressed out vampire. Mick was not a happy camper. He held back a growl as he inadvertently bit the inside of his mouth with his fangs for the third time since arriving.

Beth sat on the exam table, her arm encased in plaster, swaying a little from the pain shot the doctor had given her (that Mick had insisted she accept). Watching him pace the small room like a caged tiger. Neither said anything.

When his cell phone rang, they both jumped. "Yeah," he barked into it.

"Mr. St. John, this is Doc Haliday over at the funeral home," came the surprisingly soft and melodious voice of the undertaker. "I can't get a hold of the Sheriff, and I think I've found something here you need to take a look at."

"I can be there in an hour or so," Mick told him. "I'm in the middle of something right now."

"I really think you need to see this right away," Doc insisted. "I think I know who your murderer is."

"Tell me," he said voice turning to ice.

"Not over the phone. I need to show you the evidence."

"Okay, fine. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you."

Mick hung up, scowling at the phone in annoyance.

"You can go ahead," Beth told him. "I'll be okay here, I'll wait for the doctor to finish up and then wait here for you to pick me up."

"There's no way I'm leaving you alone," he told her with finality.

"It sounded important," she insisted.

"It is." Finding this vamp and literally tearing him apart with bare hands was #1 on Mick's to-do list. The blood boiled in his veins at the thought that anyone would dare to touch His Beth. He needed to be made a lesson of. Vlad had the right idea: maybe after he ripped the body apart he'd stick the head on a pole and put it outside the town as a message to any who might even think of messing with what was his.

"You know Vlad the Impaler is living in North Hollywood?" Mick said casually to make conversation.

Beth put out her palm in a 'stop' motion. "I don't think you have to introduce me to him."

"He's not really as bad as they made him out to be. He was quite the military strategist. He knew how to freak out his enemies so badly they'd think twice before messing with him."

She leaned forward, peering at him intently through drugged eyes. Almost fell off table if his fast reflexes hadn't shot out a hand out to steady her. "You're just kidding me, right?"

"He and Liz are loyal and generous people –as long as you don't mess with their own."

Beth regarded him through narrowed eyes. "Does he know Dick Clark??" After a moment, she apparently found this the funniest thing she'd ever heard and began laughing so hard Mick had to catch her again before she took a header off the table.

"That's some good shit they gave ya, huh?" he queried.

"Dick's like: me and Vlad, we're like this," she giggled, held up her hand with two fingers crossed. Abruptly, she yawned. "I'm tired, Mick."

"Yeah, I think it's definitely time for some sleep." Although he had to say, she was cute like this, all stoned out and silly. "Tell you what. I'll go find the doctor myself, make him sign the release papers and we can leave so I can meet with Doc."

"Sounds like a plan."

He made her lay down on the table so she wouldn't fall off in his absence, and stalked off to drag the doctor back from whatever coffee or nookie break he was on. First the doctor's lounge, then if that didn't pan out, the supply closet.

XXX



Beth hummed to herself as she waited for Mick to return. The pain was a dull echo, easily ignored as she daydreamed about being back at the hotel, in that comfy bed. This room was too cold, the table too hard. Right now that was more annoying than the arm. She missed Mick; missed his deep comforting voice and his solid body close to her. Vampires were supposed to be cold, but when he was near she felt his presence like a warmth surrounding her. She wondered if he'd be okay to stay with her all night, she was usually fine with the necessary arrangements but now she wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her as she slept. The way he looked at her, like she was the only woman who existed for him, the love shining out of his beautiful eyes so strong it was more powerful than another man's physical caress… She wiped the tears from her face angrily. Beth hated getting weepy, she'd be glad when the crap they'd forced on her had worked itself out of her system.

The door opened and she turned her head, happy that Mick had returned already…

It wasn't Mick, and the happy smile faded. Doc Haliday moved into the room, and through the haze in her drugged mind she identified this as a threat. She sat up quickly, her good hand holding onto the edge of the table in support as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

"What… what are you doing here?" she asked, trying desperately to will her head to clear, pretending to be more lightheaded than she was hoping it would cover her eyes darting around for a weapon she might use.

"I think you know, my dear."

"Mick will be back any minute," she warned, cringing away as he came closer.

"You're lying to frighten me off, but it's not going to work I'm afraid. I know that right now he's on his way to the funeral home to meet with me. By the time he gets back…"

Doc reached out and touched her neck with one finger, his long nail almost, but not quite drawing blood. She flinched violently.

"Why are you doing this? At least you could tell me before you…"

He regarded her a moment. "No one's ever asked me that before."

You never let them live long enough, Beth thought, but was wise enough not to say it out loud. "Who was she?" Beth tried, noting his surprise at her question. She had to stall to give Mick time to realize something was wrong. "She must have hurt you very badly, for you to be so angry with her."

"Hurt me?" His voice rose. "She turned me! They said that she was trampled by a horse. She was so beautiful, blond, like you," he reached out and ran his fingers through Beth's hair as she forced herself to remain still. "I was the only one in the funeral home that night, just me and the body. I was old, nearing the end of my life but I was ready for that. I'd lived a long and full life. I was ready for the Lord to take me home. Instead, I heard a noise from the coffin. I went to check it out – the next thing I knew my death was stolen from me! She made me like her!"

Doc leaned closer, so close Beth could feel his breath on her face. "Do you have any idea what it's like to live for eternity looking like this?! To be so old and repulsive that you're doomed to a life of isolation, no woman wanting to touch you, to love you? You're man is young, he's handsome. Would you open your body for me every night as you do for him?"

His words sent shivers of ice through Beth's body, and her drugged imagination started sending her images that terrified. She was as close to panic as she'd ever been. Whenever she was in danger she'd always held the belief deep inside that Mick would save her. Just like he always did. Maybe it was the drug messing with her mind. But what if it was a premonition, instead? She could feel a scream building like bile in her throat, and held it back with all her strength, knowing it would only hasten her demise.

Or maybe that would be a good thing?

"Did you kill her?" Beth asked, her voice shaking so badly she barely recognized it. "Your sire? Or are you too much of a cowardly weakling, you only pick on human women who can't fight back?!"

Okay, when the hell did the plan change? And what the fuck am I doing baiting a psycho vampire?

His eyes turned to pale blue, and he hissed at her, fangs seeming almost to glow under the fluorescent hospital light.

"Mick is going to kill you." Please, Mick. Where are you??

Doc laughed, the sound of insanity. "You don't get it, do you my dear? Why do you think I'm doing this? I want to die."

"Good," a dangerously guttural voice came from the doorway, almost as unrecognizable to Beth as her own was moments ago. For the first time in 23 years, the sound of Mick's voice was chilling, not comforting. "Because I'm the Reaper."

Doc had spun around at the sound of the voice. With a look that was almost pleased, he moved faster than Beth could track. The vampires both leapt at each other, their collision sending them careening towards the exam table where Beth sat. With a small cry she got out of the way just in time before they crashed into it, sending them both sliding across the room to hit the wall under the window.

She could have run for the door, she should have gotten the hell out of the room. But for some reason Beth would never be able to figure out, she instead scrambled into the far corner, huddling there for the duration.

The older vampire wasn't as strong as Mick – or maybe he wasn't trying to fight back much. After a short struggle Mick managed to hold him off with on hand long enough to rip apart the table with his hands, the jagged metal leg providing the stake he was looking for. He plunged it into Haliday's heart so violently, it embedded into the floor underneath, pinning him there.

All movement, all sound stopped, save for Beth's harsh breathing. Mick looked up and their eyes locked across the expanse of the room. Their voices were unused, their eyes speaking to each other instead, 

the intensity like silent screams. His strangely beautiful, pale vampire eyes staring into hers without wavering, not looking away, for the first time not hiding from her human ones. They blazed with pale fire, and she took the heat into her soul.

You have to leave now.

I'm not leaving.

Please. I don't want you to see this. My darkness.

I have to bear witness.

No, Beth. No.

Yes.

Understanding flowed between them, acceptance. Still, his eyes pleaded with her. Finally, finally, with a tiny nod, Beth rested her head down on her folded arms. She closed her eyes.

But the sounds. She heard the sounds.

Beth only noticed the silence had returned again when she felt a gentle touch to her face. She opened her eyes and raised her head, looking at Mick. His face was a human mask again, deceptively normal, worried, sad. She'd never really realized, not until this moment, all the things Mick had been trying to tell her. The reality of what he was stood out in stark relief. Mick St. John was not human.

She rose to her feet unsteadily, supported by his hands on her elbows. Somebody had had an accident with some red paint, it was splattered everywhere, some even running down the walls. The smell of it blood was rich and permeating. There was a lump of some dark fabric in the corner, but she didn't look there too closely.

Her legs bucked under her again and Mick caught her in his arms, going to his knees himself, too exhausted from recent ordeals to hold either of them up.

"Are you okay?" he demanded, pleaded.

"I love you," she whispered a benediction. As his eyes lowered in relief she kissed each closed eyelid in turn. Then she passed out.

XXX

Beth nursed her beer, watching the two men enjoy their game of pool with a jaundiced eye, unhappy to be on the sidelines. "It's just not fair," she complained for the millionth time. "You guys get hurt and – zip – thirty seconds later it's not even a scar. I've got to wear this thing for weeks."

Mick looked up from his shot, into Shane's amused gaze. "And she's making me pay for it, believe me."

"You are so not getting any tonight," she warned, and Mick was glad he hadn't been taking a drink at the time. He was also glad vampires didn't blush.

He pulled the black magic marker out of Beth's denim jacket pocket, and wrote "bite me" on her cast. Satisfied, he returned to the game.

"Juvenile," she pronounced.

The game broke up shortly afterwards, as it was nearly time for Shane's band to play their set on the small stage. As he left to make last minute preparations, Mick and Beth settled into a front row table.

"Are you really okay?" he asked, touching her hand in the familiar gesture they'd both used so often in their past.

"Are you okay?" she countered.

"I am if you are."

"We'll just file this one away for later."

His eyes smiled, only a little lingering sadness behind. He turned her hand under his so he could clasp it. "I wanted to tell you something." He let her wait a moment, questioningly, before he continued, lowering his voice for only her. "In all my 85 years, I've never known a woman as brave as you are. You're amazing, did you know that?"

She crooked her finger, motioning him closer as if to share a secret, and they both leaned forward across the table to meet in the middle. She stroked the side of his face. "Everything I am is because of you," she whispered. "You created me."

His eyes widened slightly, but once again he didn't hide from her. "And you created me," he answered, and then their lips met too.

"Ahem," a loudly clearing throat interrupted their kiss, and they broke apart to see Shane standing there. He shared a conspiratorial glance with Beth, then placed a guitar in Mick's hands.

The message was clear, and he knew who was behind it, even if he hadn't seen the gleam in Beth's eyes.

Mick stared down at the guitar for a long moment before raising his head again, meeting Shane's waiting gaze. Could he really do this again? Another look at the excited expectation on his beloved's face and he knew he was lost.

"I'm really rusty," he warned nervously.

"That's okay," Shane told him with a grin. "The band sucks and the audience is drunk off their asses. Trust me, no one will notice."

"Gee, thanks, that's really comforting." He stared at the guitar again, thinking of ghosts. Maybe it was time to put this little piece of the past to rest, for good.

He nodded.

XXX

"And now, it's time again for your favorite Resurrection band – well, okay it's your only Resurrection band, but tonight they have a special guest singing and playing guitar with them. Without further ado, here's Shane and the boys, with special guest Mick St. John."

The band took their places on stage. Mick had the center stage, Shane at his right and the rest of the band slightly behind. Silas was on the drums, Greg was playing bass, and their lead guitarist was a Real Estate agent named Freddy.

Beth clapped and gave a loud wolf whistle, sharing a grin with Sara, who'd joined Beth at the table to watch her favorite band. She couldn't seem to stop smiling, or shake the butterflies in her stomach as she waited to see her Mick perform on stage for the first time in over twenty years. It was a huge step for him, to pick up the guitar and sing again. He'd abandoned almost everything he loved from his human life after being turned, punishing himself with the losses he felt he deserved. Something had prompted him to pick up the music again for a short time in the 80's, but it had ended badly, leaving him even more skittish. Slowly, he was embracing the things he loved again. Allowing love into his life.

Mick looked adorable, just slightly this side of terrified, and Beth gave him a reassuring smile and thumbs up. Then the lights dimmed as the first melodic strains of The Marshall Tucker Band's "Can't You See" began. Mick concentrated on the strings under his fingers, and his head began bobbing slightly to the music. He shared a smile with Shane, who nodded encouragingly. As his confidence grew, and the magic of the music filled him, his face and whole being seemed to transform. It sent chills down Beth's spine, but these were the good kind.

That she could give him this, give him his music back, was so huge, she didn't know how she'd be able to contain it all. Her love for this beautiful man, this noble vampire rose up inside her until she felt like she'd burst from it. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over.

His singing voice was as rich as his speaking voice, captivating. "I'm gonna take a freight train down at the station, Lord, I don't care where it goes. I'm gonna climb a mountain, the highest mountain, Lord, I'm gonna jump off ain't nobody, ain't nobody gonna know."

Shane joined the vocals on the chorus, their voices blending harmoniously. "Can't you see, oh can't you see, what that woman Lord, she been doing to me."

The lyrics couldn't help but make me think of Coraline, and I was surprised to realize that it was the first time since…

There were plenty of days back in the beginning where I wished it was as easy to end it as jumping off a mountain. Somehow, some reason, no matter how much I hated what I'd become, I never did get around to taking any drastic steps. Thought about it. Dreamed about it. Even prayed for it. But I survived. And what did my dark haired siren do to me? I look over at my beautiful Beth, smiling at me with undisguised pleasure. She brought me the love of my lifetime. She killed me, and then somehow she resurrected me by bringing this purifying love into my life. I went from thinking my life was over, to realizing it's only just begun. Funny how things turn out.

"I'm gonna buy a ticket as far as I can now, I ain't never coming back. I'm gonna take me that southbound all the way to Georgia now, till that train runs outta track. Can't you see, oh can't you see, what that woman, she went and done to me."

I wanted to run away from myself, from what I'd become, and yeah, even the human I'd been. He was no prince, believe it. I turned my back on everything that reminded me of my old life because I couldn't bear the reminders of what I'd lost. By some miracle I'm still not sure I understand, I got a second chance. A chance to realize that I hadn't lost them – I'd thrown them away. I don't wanna run away anymore. Even if I'm afraid, even if it fucking terrifies me. I want it. I want it all.

"Can't you see, oh can't you see, what that woman has done to me…"

They wrapped up the song to enthusiastic applause; maybe the audience wasn't as drunk as Shane had implied. Didn't matter, Mick almost felt alive again, the blood and energy coursing through his body. Alive, reckless. Happy.

When the clapping quieted, Mick spoke into the mike. "Thank you. It's been a long time. This next song has a special meaning to me, I'd like to dedicate it to the woman who gave my life back to me. Beth. My wife."

Beth almost squealed, clamping a hand over her mouth just in time to avoid embarrassing herself. But really, what woman doesn't love her man making a dedication to her? She wondered what the song would be…

From the first notes, Mick's eyes locked on hers and never wavered as he sang the words to her. His expressive eyes spoke to her as well, a promise, a vow. The future.

"I see forever when I look in your eyes, you'll all I've ever wanted, I always want you to be mine. Let's make a promise till the end of time, we'll always be together, and our love will never die."

Oh my God. Forever. The end of time. He's saying it. I'm not dragging him reluctantly, forcing him to accept that he'll have to do what was once unthinkable to him. He's choosing it. He wants it as much as I do. Always.

"Here we are face to face and heart to heart, I want you to know we will never be apart. Now I believe that wishes can come true. When I see my whole world, I see only you."

I didn't even cry at my own wedding (Mick was the emotional one all day), yet here I am with tears streaming down my face, in front of a bar full of drunk strangers. The fact that some of the vampires here might actually get exactly what he's singing about doesn't help either. Maybe that drug is still in my system. As I drown in Mick's eyes I realize the truth: he's my drug. Our eyes are locked, and the room has disappeared. There's only the two of us in this whole world. What else could we possibly need?

"I looked for you all of my life, now that I've found you we will never say goodbye. I can't stop this feeling and there's nothing I can do, 'cause I see everything when I look at you."

When I Look Into Your Eyes, by Firehouse. I remember the song well. I was fifteen when it came out, and it was one of my favorites. I'd listen to it and imagine… I knew he was there, I've always known. I looked for him on every street corner, and in every song and movie and I knew someday I'd find him and

we'd never have to say goodbye again.

"When I look into your eyes, I can see how much I love you and it makes me realize. When I look into your eyes, I see all my dreams come true, when I look into your eyes."

Mick is my dream come true. The emotions overwhelm me and I almost want to jump up on the stage and demand that he turn me right there and then... but I know it's not time yet. Not anywhere near. Somehow I sense I'll know when the time does come. I can wait. We'll share many years of love together, human and vampire. Then when the day comes, we will begin the next part of our journey as equals.

When I was little I used to dream my prince charming would come riding in and carry me away to his kingdom to live with him forever. Little did I know he was just waiting for me.

We were waiting for each other.

XXX

The northern lights are breathtaking; I can see why she wanted to see them so badly. Undulating across the Alaskan sky like a lover's gentle caress, bringing color to the darkness. The body in my arms is warm and alive; the love bleeds out from her and pours into me. It strengthens me more than any fresh blood ever could. We don't speak for a long time, communicating without words, letting nature settle around us and listening to what She has to say. Still, I can't help the words that finally come out of my mouth. Sometimes, old habits die hard. Living for her is one I have no intentions of kicking. The fact that she also lives for me, well, that…complicates things. We butt heads, vying for first dibs. I have a feeling eternity is going to be… interesting.

Maybe even a giant thrill ride that never ends.

"Not exactly the honeymoon you expected, is it?" I asked, rubbing her cast comfortingly. "You didn't even get to go skiing."

Beth spoke quietly, the mood of the night keeping her voice low. "It's two dreams come true. I'm finally getting to see the Lights, and I'm with my guardian angel. What else could I ask for?" She twists around in my arms so that our lips are almost touching. "We can always come back for our one hundredth anniversary. I'll ski then."

We kiss, and my body is already anticipating the love we will make under the lights of heaven. I find it's a subjective thing; my heaven is in my arms. I've faced a lot of my demons lately too, and come through on the other side stronger for the battle. I feel invincible as I slowly peel off the cloth covering the perfection of my angel's body.

But I wonder, as I still do, what demons will I have to deal with next??

End of Chapter One: Resurrection